“For what it’s worth,” she continued, “while Mateo’s been at the ranch, he’s been as good as gold...whatever that means. Why isn’t it as good as platinum or diamonds since they’re more expensive?” She shook her head when she saw Callen give her that funny look again. “Never mind. Not relevant here.”
It took a moment to get back on track.
“Anyway, maybe there’s a family out there who’ll see that Mateo just needs a safe, loving environment and will give it to him,” Shelby concluded.
An environment that her dad would have almost certainly given Mateo and his sister had it not been for his age. Buck was sixty-nine, and since Lucy was only twelve, it meant Buck would be well into his seventies before the girl even came of age. That was a lot to take on when he should be at a point in his life when he was slowing down. Especially since he might want to enjoy married life with Rosy. Rosy could have taken on some of the child rearing, but she was seven years older than Buck.
After handing Callen the glass of wine, she sat at the table across from him. Shelby didn’t bother with the salad but slid slices of pizza onto both of their plates. Since it appeared they were going to have a meal, she went with some conversation.
“I heard you had coffee with Kace,” she remarked. Best not to mention that she’d heard it from six different people. One, Loretta Lavenhouse, who had been at the table across the room from them and had tried her hand at lip-reading to find out what they were saying. According to Loretta, Callen had either confessed to murder or had mentioned his mother.
Shelby knew Loretta was wrong on the first one and hoped the woman was wrong about the mother mention. That wouldn’t have been a pleasant chat.
“I know you’re only back here for a few more weeks, but maybe Kace and you can reach some kind of...understanding,” she said. Though that wasn’t the right word. They understood just fine, but there was anger folded and blended into it.
“Did Kace really tap his badge when he was talking to you?” she asked. Because Loretta had insisted that’d happened.
“He did. It’s a big-brother thing.” He drank some of the wine after he finished the pizza slice. “What else did the gossips tell you?”
“Nothing much...other than my name came up.”
Now his eyebrow lifted. “It did,” he admitted. And he didn’t say anything else for several moments. “My brain tells me it’s not a good idea to kiss you, that it could lead to sex. And other things. Things you might not be ready for.”
She groaned, pushed back from the table and finished her glass of wine. “I’m not brokenhearted.”
“I believe you, but you’re only a couple of months out of a long-term relationship.”
Great. It was a one-two punch. Either she got accused of the whole broken-heart business or else she was rebounding. There was no getting around it.
Was there?
“Just how long does the rebound period last, anyway?” she asked. “I hope less than three weeks because after that, you’ll be gone.”
He stared at her, set aside his wineglass. “You could get hurt.”
“I could get lucky.” And since that was way more forward than she’d intended to be, Shelby added a smile, leaned closer. “What if I give you some kind of disclaimer, like a business contract? I agree not to hold you responsible for any hurt that might happen when you drive away again?”
She could see him working that out in his mind. Of course, that wouldn’t stop her from getting hurt. Nor would it stop him from blaming himself. That was just Callen. And that meant he was probably going to babble off a couple of reasons why they shouldn’t go at each other again.
He didn’t.
Callen went after her again. He reached out, took hold of her arms and pulled her onto his lap. He kissed her again. Despite the quick maneuvering, the kiss was slow and easy, as if he was giving her a chance to change her mind. As if. He had her exactly where she wanted him to have her.
His arms came around her, not that she had plans to go anywhere, but his grip was as gentle as the kiss. He didn’t urge her closer, didn’t tighten what she was sure would be clever fingers on her waist and back. He just kissed her while she sat there.
Shelby sank into the kiss, letting the feel of his mouth light little flames all over her body. Of course, they didn’t stay little, but that was his fault because he slid his mouth and tongue first to the spot just beneath her right ear. Then lower, to her neck. He might as well have struck a match and set her ablaze because the need quit merely pulsing and took on an urgency.
She was pretty sure Callen was in on that urgency, too, because finally his grip tightened enough to pull her closer to him. It was a safe kind of “closer,” though, since she was sideways on his lap. Not touching the suddenly very needy center of her body to the center of his.
He cursed under his breath, and she thought he was cursing both of them before he buried his face in her neck. Thankfully for her that meant his mouth was buried there, too, and with his breath gusting some, it was creating a very nice sensation. One that sped that urgency along.
“I’m going to hell for what I’m thinking about doing to you,” he said, intriguing her.
“That good, huh?”
And she made him laugh. That was an interesting sensation, too, with his mouth still against that sensitive part of her.
But she had plenty of other sensitive parts, and Callen found a couple of them when his hands went to work. One of his hands slid over her breasts, cupping her and swiping his thumb over her nipple. The other—the one with the naughtiest intention—skimmed up her thigh. She was hoping that thumb could soon do some clever swiping, too.
Shelby figured she was well on her way to experiencing that when his hand continued up, up, up...
And then his phone rang.
She wasn’t sure who groaned the loudest, but Shelby thought Callen had won that particular title. Along with the groaning, he cursed and continued to curse when he dragged out his phone from his jeans pocket.
The cursing stopped when he looked at the screen. “Sorry, but I need to take this,” he said before she could get a look at who was calling.
He eased her from his lap and got up. Not easily. That probably had something to do with his erection that was straining against his zipper. He walked back into the living room before answering the call.
Shelby had zero lip-reading skills, but she knew bad body language when she saw it.
And this was bad.
“I’m on my way,” he told the caller, and he put his phone away before he turned back around to face her. “I’m sorry. I have to go.” He grabbed his coat and put it on.
“Is there anything I can do?” she asked, and she meant it. He looked genuinely distressed.
“No, but thanks. I’ll call you,” Callen said, and then brushed a kiss on her mouth before he hurried out the door.
CHAPTER TEN
CALLEN HADN’T RUN out of curse words by the time he got back in his truck and drove away from Shelby’s. However, he did put a pause on the profanity when he hit the button on his phone to redial the last number.
Buck’s number.
But as expected, Buck didn’t answer. Mateo did. Not a surprise since it’d been Mateo who’d called him right about the time Callen had been kissing and groping Shelby. Talk about a fast way to chill down some lust.
“You need to come. Mr. Buck’s been hurt,” Mateo had said.
Yep, that had got Callen’s complete attention, and when he’d asked the boy if he’d called an ambulance, his response had been: “Mr. Buck said no ambulance, for you to come right now.”
So, here Callen was on his way, but since it’d take him a couple of minutes to get there, he wanted to talk to Mateo and get more details. And then Callen would call the ambulance. It was bullshit if Buck intended for him to keep his condition a secret
when something bad had happened.
“You’re coming?” Mateo pressed Callen, and he could hear the fear and worry in the boy’s voice.
“Almost there,” Callen assured him, trying to keep those same emotions out of his own tone. No use scaring the boy more than he already was. “Now, tell me what happened.”
“I think he fell or something. I saw him go into the barn, and when he didn’t come out, I went to see if everything was okay. It wasn’t. Mr. Buck’s head was bleeding.”
Callen latched right on to that, too. “Bleeding? How bad?”
“He said it’s not bad.”
Which could be just more bullshit. “Is my brother Judd in his cabin?”
“No. I started to go there first, but Mr. Buck said Judd had gone out with friends, that I should call you.”
Yeah, because Callen had established a stupid-assed pattern of keeping things secret that shouldn’t be secret when it came to Buck. “I’m pulling up now,” Callen told the boy.
He ended the call so he could park, and the moment he was out of his truck, he started running. Despite his speed, it seemed to take an eternity to get there. Plenty long enough for Callen to think the worst and reconsider calling an ambulance despite what Buck had said.
The only illumination in the barn came from a single light dangling overhead, but Callen had no trouble spotting Buck. He was sitting on the ground, his back against a stall post, and Mateo was holding something to the side of his head.
“I’m okay,” Buck insisted before Callen even made it to him.
Callen wasn’t so sure about that when he saw the bloody handkerchief that Buck had clasped in his hands.
Hands that were trembling a little.
Beside him on the ground was a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and some paper towels. Some of them had blood on them, too.
“I just had a little dizzy spell,” Buck went on. “Lost my balance and bumped my head.”
“I got the bleeding stopped,” Mateo volunteered.
Callen had a look for himself and noticed that Mateo was using a package of frozen turnips as an ice pack. Since Callen hated that particular vegetable, he thought this was the best possible use for it.
“I know how to stop bleeding,” Mateo added, and alarm fired through his eyes. As if he’d said too much.
Callen eased back the turnips and had to agree with the boy. “Yeah, you do know how to stop bleeding.” He used the flashlight function on his phone to have a closer look. “You could probably use a stitch or two.”
“I’d rather just have a Band-Aid,” Buck insisted.
“I bet you would, and that way you wouldn’t have to tell anyone about this.”
“I won’t tell anyone about this. Neither will you.” Buck was insistent about that, as well.
“Are you still dizzy?” Callen asked him.
“No.”
Taking him at his word—even though it had a fifty-fifty chance of being a lie—Callen eased his arm around Buck and helped him to his feet. Mateo gathered up the turnips, peroxide and paper towels, and his steady movements told Callen the boy had likely done that a time or two, as well.
Callen led Buck to the house and onto the back porch, where Lucy was waiting and holding open the door for him. “I need a Band-Aid,” Buck told her. “Could you get me one from the upstairs bathroom? There’ll be a box in the medicine cabinet.”
With her dark, hollow eyes, she walked away to do that. There was no alarm on her face, which gave Callen a thump in his heart. A bloody head should never be old hat to a kid.
“I have to go to the bathroom,” Buck claimed when Callen started to lead him to the sofa.
Callen frowned, looked down at him to see if there was some ulterior motive other than a full bladder. If there was, Buck wasn’t going to own up to it, and he moved away from Callen to head to the powder room just up the hall.
Both Mateo and Callen stood, watching the door as Buck closed it.
“Is he gonna be okay?” Mateo asked.
“Yeah.” That was possibly a lie, but Callen figured the boy had been through enough tonight. “You did a good job taking care of him. Thanks.”
“You’re not mad that I called you to come over? Mr. Buck said you were on a date.”
One that would have almost certainly led to sex. Callen was sure of that because he was basically brainless and had no willpower when it came to Shelby. He needed to figure out how to change that.
And how to fix this situation with Buck.
Callen looked over at Mateo, who was giving him some side glances. “You’re not pissed off like your brother Judd,” Mateo said. “I thought you’d be pissed off.”
“No. Just worried.”
“Me, too,” Mateo added quietly.
Lucy came back down the stairs, and she kept her head bent as she handed Callen the box of Band-Aids. “There are different sizes,” she said, her voice as dark and hollow as those eyes. “I didn’t know which one he’d need, so I brought them all.”
“This is fine. Thanks.” But Callen had no sooner got the words out than she was already back up the stairs.
“She’s scared of you,” Mateo explained. “She’s scared of a lot of things.” He paused, glanced at the bathroom door again and then at Callen. “You’re not scared of me. You don’t look at me as if you expect me to shank you. Neither does Mr. Buck, his daughter or Miss Rosy.”
“Well, around here we tend to give folks the benefit of the doubt when it comes to shanking.” And it had the intended effect. It caused Mateo’s mouth to quiver a little. Not a smile but close.
“Are you okay in there?” Callen called out to Buck.
“Fine. I just need a minute.”
A minute, no doubt, to figure out the argument he was going to try to use on Callen to get him to stay quiet about this. But Buck was wasting his time.
Well, maybe.
Callen wasn’t brainless and lacking willpower with Buck, but the soft spot he had for the man made him more susceptible to doing stupid things.
“I didn’t stop my sister from being hurt,” Mateo said out of the blue. “That’s why she’s so scared around everybody. She’s just a kid and I couldn’t stop her from being hurt because I wasn’t there. I should have been there.”
Well, hell. That was more than a heart thump. It was an emotion-drenched punch to the gut. And the flood of memories came. He hadn’t protected his brother Nico. And he’d been just a kid, too. The same age Lucy was now.
“That’s why I’m trying to be real good here with Mr. Buck,” Mateo went on. “You should know that. I swear, I’ll be good. Because I can’t get sent back to juvie or my sister could get hurt again.”
Callen took the long deep breath that he needed. Well, more than just one breath. He had no idea what to say to Mateo to make him feel better about this. Hell, if he knew what to say, he would have already said it to himself.
“Being good sounds like the right plan,” Callen finally managed.
Though he knew that it didn’t always work. Sometimes, nothing did. But it was something he could maybe pass on to Lizbeth, to let her know that Mateo had damn solid motivation for being “good.” That might play in his favor for a family on the fence about taking both kids.
The bathroom door finally opened, and Buck came out. He looked a little shaky, but he didn’t catch onto the wall. Probably because he thought it would only alarm Callen. However, Callen was already alarmed, and if Buck didn’t know that, he soon would.
“Could you give Mr. Buck and me a minute?” Callen asked Mateo.
Mateo nodded. “What should I do with this?” he asked, holding up the turnips. “Should I rinse it off and put it back in the freezer?”
“No. Toss it.” Callen had been eating some meals here at the ranch, and he didn’t want Rosy serving it up.
“P
ut it at the bottom of the garbage bin so Rosy doesn’t see it,” Buck instructed.
The boy gave another nod and headed into the kitchen to do that. Callen chose a Band-Aid and got to work. “You do know this isn’t going to stick so well because of your hair,” Callen reminded him.
“It’ll be fine. I’ll be fine,” Buck added a moment later.
Callen got the Band-Aid in place, and he went back around to sit on the coffee table so he could face Buck.
“No,” Buck insisted before Callen could say anything. “It’s only three weeks to the wedding. After that, I’ll tell Rosy and Shelby, and then I can have the surgery.”
“What’s so hell-fired important that you have to get done instead of tending to your health?”
“I just need more time to work out some things,” Buck said without hesitating. “Paperwork for the kids. Supplies for the ranch. And I want to get something special for Rosy for a wedding gift. I want to spend more time with Shelby and her before they start treating me like an invalid. Plus, I need to come to terms with it, too.”
Until Buck had added that last part, Callen had been about to blow his argument to smithereens. But that was a good one. Not stellar, though.
Callen mentally tested out a couple of salesman ploys that might work. And he discarded them one by one. Because there was only one thing that was going to work now.
“You’ve got a week to get your things and yourself in order,” Callen said, and he made sure he looked Buck straight in the eyes. “Tell them then, or I will.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
SIX DAYS.
That was how long it’d been since her dinner date with Callen. Or what she was calling the near-miss pizza get-together. He’d got a phone call and hurried out. She wasn’t upset about that. He was a busy man, and there’d likely been some kind of work-related crisis. Still, that was no excuse for him taking six days to turn the near miss into a home run.
Of course, he’d called her, and they’d had some shallow conversations about how swamped he was. And again, that was probably true. He had been helping out at the ranch and had even made two trips back to Dallas to tend to some things there. But all the work and trips couldn’t cover up the feeling in her stomach that something was wrong.
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