“Maybe she got sick and didn’t want to ruin anyone’s night, Jack.”
“I went there with her expressly to be with her, Woody. She knew that since I told her that categorically. No, she bailed on me and I want to know why.”
The not knowing what set her off is killing me. I can’t fix shit if I don’t have a place to start, and getting to that point is proving impossible since I can’t get her to respond to my calls or texts.
I’ve turned into a pussy-whipped chump who depends on his woman for emotional support and that’s sticking in my craw because obviously Callie does not feel the same way.
Not yet.
“Ask. I find with women that the easiest way to keep things from going to a place that will hurt them, I just get right to the point and don’t play games. Look, Jack, I’m going to be really straight with you because you’re my buddy and I like Callie. The woman has been through the ringer for the last five months. First she was humiliated, both personally by you skipping out on her and then publically when they made her leave the hotel. She laughs about it now and pretends that the video doesn’t bother her, but I am not amused by it and know she has to be embarrassed.
“Then there’s the whole search she had to endure. Can you imagine her emotional turmoil when she had to go through all those men trying to remember what her lover looked like? It must have made her feel so terrible about herself and her judgement.”
Shit. I never once considered all that because Callie’s been such a rock star about it all that I just assumed she was solid. I should know better. As tough as she is, she is just a person and she has feelings. They’re buried deep but they’re there.
“Wood.”
“Let me finish. Now I know that when you met her you were upset that you lost a chance with her before you even tried. I get that, dude. I may not have met my one yet, but I’m not emotionally fucked like Freddie. I know she’s out there and I know I’ll know her when it’s time. Imagine what she must have felt when she saw you and got knocked down. To hear your mom tell it, Callie just about passed out when she saw you and you insulted her. She was already hormonal and body conscious from all those rapid changes. Add to that the fact that she was feeling like a heel already, and I am utterly amazed that she even gave you the light of day after that.”
“Don’t.”
“She’s a sweet, funny, vulnerable woman who’s carrying another human being inside her right now, Jack. Be a little more patient with her, and for God’s sake, man, do not go to her looking the way you did a few minutes ago because it will just scare her and she doesn’t need that right now.”
My hands are in my hair as I take in his words and accept that he may be right. I’ve been moving so fast trying to nail her down and assure myself that I won’t lose her again that I haven’t considered her feelings or needs once.
What a jackass, Jack.
“I need to talk to her and fix whatever it is that went wrong.”
“Thatta boy. Now, tell me about Luci again.”
His laughter cheers me up a little, and by the time Freddie strolls in and falls into a seat looking like he went ten rounds with Jack Daniels and lost, I’m feeling ready to face this new challenge and beat it into submission.
At least I can now see a light at the end of the tunnel.
Chapter Fifteen
Love at First (or Second) Sight
Callie
I’m done crying. It’s official. I am now ready to face life with a better, calmer attitude.
It took me the better part of the night and spooning with Indie, but I really do feel like I can face the shitstorm I’m dealing with and move the hell on. I have to. I can’t spoon with Indiana another night. She’s a sleep farter.
Perversely, now that I want to kill every smiling asshole in sight, Luci’s flitting around humming. Humming! Like there’s a damn thing to be this happy about when I know for a fact that she’s still crying over Freddie.
“Stop bloody sulking and come over here to your granny, Callie. I want to know why you look like a prisoner made you her lesbian lover and rode you all night.”
Sheesh. This one.
I trudge into the kitchen just as my eighty-year-old grandmother waggles a bottle of scotch at me and raises a brow.
“Pregnant here, Gruff.”
“Oh what nonsense. Why I had a nip or ten when I was pregnant, to relieve the stress, you know, and it was just fine,” she scoffs, replacing the bottle and bringing over a cup of tea and chocolate cookies.
“I think that may explain Mom,” I mutter, dunking a cookie.
Hmmm. Chocolatey medicine. My favorite.
“Stop your infernal prattling and tell your gran why I have to listen to my poor Jackie moaning on the phone while you’re hiding away like some bloody ninnyhammer. I thought I taught you better.”
“Leave it alone, Gruffy. I just need some time—”
“To lick your wounds like a whining little bitch, Calliopeia? What nonsense.”
“To save a little pride before I talk to him!” I yell back, gobbling another cookie while she purses her lips and shakes her head.
“We Landrys don’t do pride, Callie, it’s an emotion too dear for us to bother with. Bloody pride gets a body nowhere but alone and bitter. We do moxy and bloody well brave our way through the hardships like true women should. And anyway, what are you talking about, saving your pride? The man damn near adores you, girl. What do you have to cry about?”
“I, he’s not the one, Gruff.”
“Shite! Of course he is, love. Anyone with eyes can see the two of you are besotted. He’s your one, girlie, and you know it, so don’t go telling me you don’t love him because I will call bullshit and slap some sense into your thick pate.”
Save me. Please Jesus, just save me from this old battle ax.
“No, Gruff,” I whisper, tearing up. “I mean he’s not the one.”
She looks all annoyed for a minute before her eyes round and her mouth flaps toothlessly. Bingo. We have a winner.
“Oh bloody hell.”
Yeah. I guess that’s pretty accurate.
“Tell your granny everything and don’t leave a thing out. Here have a hanky, love, your face is a mess.”
I take the snowy-white embroidered square, blow my nose loudly, and proceed to tell her every harsh thing about last night and the ordeal I suffered.
Throughout the telling I have the overwhelming need to have Jack near so he can hold me and comfort me through it all. See what happens when a man goes all squishy on you and then makes you lose the protective shell.
You start needing him, and right now I do not have the right. And oh God, how am I supposed to break this to him when he’s already named his little guy and gotten into the habit of talking to him?
Life. You unfair old crone. I hate you.
“Well fackit, love, that just about sucks baws, as you young ones would say,” she breathes raggedly, her hazel eyes, so like mine going sympathetic and soft on me.
She hasn’t looked at me this way since I was a kid and started getting up to mischief with my fellow Naughty Ones. Knowing that the situation is so blown that old Gruffy feels the need to go soft just slams home how hard this is going to be for me.
“You need to tell him, love. The poor boy is near mad with worry for you and that bairn and he does not deserve to be left out in the cold with nothing but fear and doubt. God help me, it breaks my heart, it does, to see this happening. The two of you are so perfect for each other. It’s almost as if God engineered this meeting of souls. Are you sure you and he can’t come to an agreement though the child is not his?”
What?
Wait. I have not thought of that at all.
Why that would be fucking awesome, and it would really, really go a long way in helping me not want to die of heartbreak. But is that fair? Is it really fair to expect him to take on another man’s kid just to have me?
I have no idea how he’ll respond, and no amount of sitting he
re plotting and praying will get me what I need. I have to go see him and just throw all the cards on the table and pray that he loves me like I now know I love him.
“I think I need some moxy, Gruffy,” I say, pushing the tea and cookies away with a breath and a straightening of my spine.
“That’s the spirit, love. Now get off your fat arse and stop that infernal whining. I thought I’d have to smack you a right good one to get that slow sap of yours pumping again. Bloody mother of yours must have been drinking with you in the womb.”
My snort is full of mirth as I rise and call a greeting to Aggy before I step out of the house and start praying as if my life depends on it. And it bloody well does.
I pray all the way on the ride over, and by the time I get to his office, even the cabbie is rooting for me and little JJ. I pray all the way up on the ride to his floor, and I pray even as I step out and start walking.
I think I’m just about ready to give hope a chance till I walk past the empty desk in the front office and take halting steps toward his door.
And then I see the one thing that kills all hope in its tracks.
“Come on, Les.”
That woman is here. She’s in his arms and he’s rubbing up all over her as if she’s a freaking stripper pole.
I stumble away and fall into the still vacant elevator.
***
Jack
I am no good with crying women, and especially not with women I don’t feel comfortable comforting when I know that it’s giving her the wrong idea.
As Lesley falls into my arms and keeps bawling like a sick cow, I have the urge to shove her away and tell her to grow some pride or something.
“I love you, Jack. You and I were so good together once. We’re perfect for each other. Just give us a chance.”
“Lesley, for God’s sake, please stop this. I told you when we went to dinner and I knew you expected more that it wasn’t going to happen. I don’t love you and I refuse to lie and lead you on.”
She’s getting clingy and it takes a not so gentle shove to pry her hands off me so that I can step away and put the safety of my desk between us.
“Jack.”
I close my eyes against the pleading and ignore the tears as revulsion runs through me. Lesley is a beautiful woman and she’s got the brains and money to accomplish anything she wants in life. I guess a lot of men would look at her svelte figure, caramel hair—professionally done, of course, since just last week she was a brunette—and her blue eyes and think himself lucky for landing her.
I feel nothing for her but sympathy and a large dose of annoyance that she just can’t seem to take a hint. One that’s gone from soft and kind to outright blunt as I try and fail to make her understand that I am not interested.
For a while a few years back, Mom and her mother were tennis partners, but that ended abruptly when Mom cottoned to the fact that the woman was vapid and spiteful, enjoying shoving her wealth in others’ faces.
My mom may be worth a small fortune, but she’s no snob and she despises nastiness. Yeah she’s got a mouth but she has never been unkind to a person a day in her life if they didn’t ask for it.
So she cut that association short and cancelled her membership at the country club.
Unfortunately, in that brief time the Brewsters got it in their head that I and Lesley are perfect for each other. Some bull about our lines and connections being ideal for a marriage that would be advantageous.
I don’t see the advantage to tying myself to a twit whose only ambition in life is lunch, shopping, and gossip. Call me crazy but I’d like to actually respect the woman I marry.
Now see, I respect the hell out of Callie, because not only is she a hard worker, she’s also one of the most loving women I have ever met. I love that she is fiercely loyal to all who have her heart.
“Jack, please. You can’t honestly believe that you love that fat little nobody. She’s not even that pretty.”
“Lesley, get the hell out of my office and stay the hell away from me. Callie is gorgeous and nothing like you and your shallow little friends. She’s perfect in every way, and I swear to God if I so much as hear you or one of your friends insulting her again I will rain hell down on you.”
My words bring out her true colors and she dries up like a plugged faucet as her face takes on an ugly sneer. Ugliness always shines through, no matter the packaging.
“You are such a fool. You think she’s really telling the truth about that brat she’s carrying? She’s playing you, Jack. Wake up and—”
“Christ, her again? Lesley, get the message already. Jack does not want you, lady. He’s told you that a hundred times and I’ll tell you once more. You’re not it for him and he’s not settling for a shallow little mama’s girl like you. Now why don’t you use that one brain cell in your bleached head and leave with a modicum of what pride you have left.”
I’ve never heard Woody talk to a woman this way, and what’s more, the look he’s giving her is downright cruel as she stiffens and lets out a screech before storming out with a few unmentionable words.
“I think I just found the one woman on earth I can’t stand so much that I don’t even have it in me to pretend,” he says, walking in and reclining in a seat across from me.
“You’re telling me, man. I almost tossed her ass across the room when she tried to kiss me.”
“So, have you spoken to Callie yet?”
“No. I was just about to leave when Lesley barged in. I’ll have to talk to Kim about letting that woman in in the future. I don’t want her coming in here whenever she feels the need or there might be gossip that I don’t need getting back to Callie. That woman is possessive as hell and mean when threatened.” I laugh, recalling entering the club and having some woman hooting at me.
I thought she would rip her eyes out before I could wrangle her back into my arms and kiss her mad away.
“Aw, it must be really nice to have that kind of love, Jack. I envy you.”
“It would be if she loved me but she hasn’t said it yet.”
Woody frowns before shaking his head with a snort.
“Tell me, Jack, do you think if the two of you hadn’t been hit by that love-at-first-sight bolt that a woman like Callie would have let you anywhere near her?”
“Explain.”
“Think about it, man. You two met that night and fell into bed together. Callie is not a one-night stand type of girl, so I’m convinced that even as drunk as the two of you were you knew something that was undeniable.”
“Love at first sight?” I scoff, though I know damn well what he’s saying is true.
I don’t remember much about our night, but damn me if the second look I got didn’t knock me on my ass the minute I saw her.
“You get it, I see. What the hell are you still doing here, man? Go get your girl. You can name the kid after me. You’re welcome.” He grins cheekily, earning a finger.
“Not happening, dickhead. The name is set in stone. Jack Junior.”
I’m grinning even as I grab my jacket and start for the elevator, my heart feeling lighter already.
“Tell her you love her, asshole!” Woody yells just before the doors close, his eyes twinkling.
“Planning on it.”
I just have to find her.
Chapter Sixteen
Catch Me if You Dare. Or I’ll Come to You?
Callie
“I’m car sick.”
“Shut up. We’re almost there.”
“But I need to puke.”
“You’re not even pregnant, I am. Now shut it and just let me think a little,” I mutter as we turn down a dirt track after a two-hour drive and start bumping our way along.
My mission since I walked out of Jack’s building started off as trying not to cry to yet another cabbie. That lasted about one red light before I was using the street psychology system to pour out my woes.
By the time we got to my apartment, Josh, the very un-American cabbie who
I now consider family, had made it clear that I have some serious trust issues that may stem from my paternal abandonment.
So okay, maybe it is true that I shouldn’t have run and I should have faced Jack and that Lesley woman. I get that now and I even got it when I had the bright idea to go on this trip and finally find number four.
I needed to get out of town before I did something that would decimate the sapling that is my pride and turn my moxy to an ash pile.
So I made a call to Doreen at the DMV and she got me what I need. One Jethro Lobe lives a mere two hours from me, it turns out, and so I could have really just looked a lot sooner.
“Dammit, let me out,” Indie grates as the little Delights delivery van rattles and groans over the bumpy road, her hands grabbing at her seat in desperation.
“No. You’re coming with me. You promised.”
My knuckles are white and I’ve sweated through my light pink shirt, but that’s not the main issue here. No what is the real issue is the cute little house up ahead and the four kids running around in the front yard.
I’d expected to meet number four and see him struggling and unkempt, thereby assuring myself that he just wasn’t capable of caring for me and can’t be blamed.
Swear, if good ole Jethro has a whole other family and just dumped me, I will lose my shit and take away his ability to father any more.
When we finally hop to a stop and the kids are all standing staring at us, I hear Indie breathe out a ragged cursed prayer.
“You owe me new tits if it turns out I’ve just churned butter in these bitches.”
“Oh hush,” I hiss as the front door creaks open and I see a middle-aged man and woman come out onto the little porch. Followed by six other adults. “Oh great, look, a public showing.”
“Shut up and let’s go, Callie cat. The sooner we get this over with the sooner you can get your pretty head out of your ass and get back to Jack.”
She’s of the very lofty and vocal opinion that I’m behaving like the brat I am.
THE NAUGHTY ONES: The Complete 5-Books Series Page 10
