Copyright © 2020 by Kelli Callahan
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No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Epilogue
Kiss My Boss
Join My Mailing List
Kelli’s Voracious Vixens
About the Author
Also by Kelli Callahan
Prologue
Abigail
One year ago
A blanket laid over my shoulders to keep me from shivering. There was snow on the ground. It was pretty. Light, fluffy, and cold. So cold. It was hypocritical. Something terrible had happened, I felt it, and the snow was so beautiful it contradicted the horrible feeling. It wasn’t fair. Whatever happened, the situation deserved to have a light shone on it. Instead, it wasn’t taken seriously.
“Abigail?” an officer said my name and squatted low to the ground to meet my eyes. I stared at my hands. Blood.
So much blood.
“Abi,” I corrected him in a monotone voice. “I don’t like my name. Call my Abi.”
“Sure,” he nodded. “Abi. Is there anything you need?”
“My parents,” I breathed out, and the air froze in front of me, creating a small cloud.
He placed a hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “We want to talk to you about that. Think you can give us a statement on what happened?”
“Where are my parents?” I asked, unblinking as I stared at him.
“Abi, do you know why we are here?” he questioned me, and when I didn’t answer, he glanced up at another officer, concern lining the middle of his brows. “How about we get you something warm. You want some coffee or hot chocolate?”
I shook my head. Blue and red lights swirled around me, striking the darkness with the word emergency. What was the emergency? I didn’t know.
“She’s in shock,” a voice said to the officer who tried to help me. “We need to get her away from here before they−−−” her voice dropped to a whisper. I couldn’t hear anything besides a hiss from her speech, but I couldn’t make out the words.
I didn’t care. It wasn’t important.
“I need to go home,” I said, dropping the blanket off my shoulders. I was only wearing a nightgown. “My parents will be looking for me. It’s really late.”
“No, honey,” the woman said. “You have to stay here. Your mom and dad aren’t home anymore. Do you remember what happened? Tell me what day it is. What do you think is happening?” she asked with a kind smile, one full of patience and understanding. “Take your time.”
“It’s Saturday. I just got home from school yesterday for the weekend. I come home every weekend from college.”
“What did you do today?” Why did she have to keep asking?
I didn’t answer her because I didn’t know what happened today. I remember waking up, having lunch, going to the movies with my parents, and then everything else after that was black. I didn’t remember anything.
“Are my parents okay?”
She took my hands in hers. Gosh, her fingers were cold. It made sense because of the weather. The officer tossed the blanket back over me, and a few pieces of snow froze my skin and wet the blankets. “No, honey. They aren’t okay. Do you remember anything?” she asked again.
I glanced at my hands and saw they were stained red. Blood. I’m not too sure how I got blood on me; I shook my head again. “No, I’m sorry. I don’t remember. Are they going to be okay? Are they on their way to the hospital?”
“Do you remember something?” she repeated the same question, and it was getting annoying. Did I look like I knew anything?
“No, but I feel it. I feel it,” I finally looked up from the spot on the ground I was looking at and see my house in front of me. I was home. I could walk inside and go to sleep, maybe shower first to get the blood off me. I stood again, and my vision blurred, and a sharp pain pierced my skull, throbbing. I lifted my hand to feel the back of my head and brought it in front of me to look at it.
Red.
Wet.
“We need an ambulance! Right now!” The officer yelled over his shoulder, and I heard the racing boots of the paramedics behind me. It was too late. I was falling. My eyes rolled to the back of my head, and my body gave in. I was limp. The officer caught me before I hit the ground, and the paramedics got there right as I was laid on the ground gently. The back of my head was cupped by a large palm, making sure I didn’t injure myself further.
That was nice of him.
A young man’s face filled my vision. He had brown eyes and messy blonde hair. He was cute. “Hi there, I’m Josh. I’m going to take care of you, okay?” he shined a bright light in my eyes and winced, turning to his partner. “Right pupil is blown. We need to get her to the hospital now. How did no one see this injury? It’s massive!” he shouted at the cops as they rolled me onto a gurney.
“We thought it was a surface wound. Head wounds tend to bleed a lot,” the uniform said in defense.
“Ignorant,” the paramedic said. “You better hope she makes it, or it is on you for waiting too long for her to get examined.” Josh poked the officer’s chest before he climbed in the ambulance and slammed the doors. He sat beside me and hooked me up to a bunch of medical equipment. “I need you to do everything you can to stay awake. Can you do that for me?”
My eyelids were fluttering. I wanted to sleep. I couldn’t stay awake. I shook my head. “Tired,” I mumbled.
“I know, but I really need you to talk to me. I overheard you say you were going to school? What for?”
“I don’t know,” I said, and panic started to press against my chest, heavy like a boulder or a three-ton weight. “I don’t know. Why don’t I know? I need to know. Where am I? Why am I here?” The monitor beeped furiously as my heart rate rose and climbed higher with every second that passed by.
The paramedic, I couldn’t remember his name, his hands pressed against my shoulders to stop me from thrashing. “You’ve been in an incident. You have a head injury. It is common to have confusion and memory loss with this, okay? The doctors will fix you up in no time.”
Hot tears hit the apples of my cheeks, and I clutched onto his hand, smearing blood on his flawless gloves. “I’m scared.”
“It’s okay to be scared. It means you want to be alive, and I need you to need that right now. I need you to fight to live. You can do that for me, right?”
I nodded, but dark shadows crept along the edges of my vision. “Something bad happened,” I slurred, and the monitors started to race again. “Something—”
“She’s coding!” he shouted. “Come on, Abigail. Don’t let him win.”
Him.
Was he something bad?
I didn’t know. I couldn’t remember.
Chapter One
Logan
Everyone expected Maria and me to be together. It would make sense, considering how jealous I was when she started dating O
fficer Cortez. She wanted me too, and to be honest, I was still a little jealous at the cop for dating the girl I wanted.
Or thought I wanted.
I couldn’t say exactly what happened, but something changed. Maria was feisty and different, unique, and fearless. It was what drew me to her, still did. She was happy with Cortez though, and I knew why she decided to be with him, and it was because I couldn’t get off my ass and ask her out.
Something held me back.
My sister, the one person I had taken care of most of my life, was married and off having a family and being happy. She had someone to take care of her now, and I think that was the root of my problem. I wanted someone to need me. Lucy didn’t need me anymore, and Maria didn’t need me, she never really did. She’s independent, and while some men liked that sort of thing, it wasn’t something I was fond of.
Not that being an independent woman was a bad thing. It wasn’t. Go women for doing their thing; I loved that. I couldn’t help what I wanted though.
I wanted someone to need me, to depend on me, to be taken care of. Maria didn’t need me for that. She could take care of herself, but that still didn’t stop the small string of attraction or this weird connection we had.
Like right now, she had her head on my shoulder, and she smelled like cotton, fresh and clean. She liked to be close to me, but it wasn’t right. If I was Cortez, I wouldn’t be a happy man. So I did what I always did, I pulled away, got up, and sat on the big red chair to the side.
“You have to stop doing that,” I said, reclining the chair in Lucy’s living room. We all live under the same roof, except for Maria. “You’re with Cortez now.”
“I was just laying my head on your shoulder. Friends do that. I wasn’t trying to have sex with you.”
No. She wasn’t, but I knew she wanted me, and she hated that she did. She wanted Cortez more though. She didn’t look at me that way she looked at him, all stars and hearts in her eyes.
“Regardless, he wouldn’t like it.” I knew that because I wouldn’t like it. It wasn’t smart for Maria and I to be in the same room because if she kissed me, I’d kiss her back.
And then we would regret it because she isn’t meant to be with me, as much as that hurt a month ago, I realized that now.
She rolled her eyes and checked her watch on her dainty wrist. “I need to go to work; maybe when I get back, you’ll realize every time I touch you, it isn’t to make a move on you.”
“I don’t want to fight with you, Maria.” That always happened. We fought. All the damn time. We could hardly be in the same room without biting each other’s heads off because she denied what she felt while I tried to move on from it.
“It’s why we could never work,” she said. “We are too much alike,” she raced toward the door, purse in hand, her short blonde hair with a pink stripe in it swayed, and when she turned around, she narrowed her eyes at me. Maria wanted to say something else, but she opened and closed her mouth and then slammed the door on her way out.
I hated to admit it, but I could breathe easier once she left. I considered Cortez, Gabriel, a friend now. While I did what I could to push Maria away, I knew he could see whatever it was between the two of us. It was unsettling, but at the same time, it wasn’t strong enough for me to act on it.
It confused the fuck out of me.
“Another lover’s quarrel?” Godrick said as he stood in the hallway, holding his son in his arms. Lucy napped upstairs, taking a small break from the little fella. She was an amazing mom. I wished our parents were alive to see her, to see the woman she had become. They would be so proud. I knew I was. Godrick had managed to get her pregnant again too.
That was a funny fight to witness.
He said he was going to knock her up again even though she didn’t want another baby so soon after the first one, but Godrick gave her a sappy smile, and she melted in his arms. Lucy would have all of his babies. If he wanted a soccer team, she’d give him one. They were that madly in love, something I wanted with so much severity, I felt an ache in my bones for it.
I wanted something that was mine. Everyone around me was in love, and I was just on the outside, envying it. I had no one to take care of, and it bothered me. It was the only thing I knew I was really good at. Yes, I could build things with my hands, but other than that, I felt like I didn’t have anything else to offer to the world.
But I could love, and I could love hard. I stayed true. I was faithful and loyal. I liked to hold things I cared about. I guess that was why I was so good with my hands because everything I held, I cared for.
I wanted to hold someone with these calloused hands. They were rough, probably seen the sun one too many times, and I had scars on them from nails and things piercing me while I worked. While they needed TLC, they gave love really well. My skin might be worn, but my soul wasn’t.
I rolled my eyes at Godrick and sighed. “She’s just stubborn. I want her to be happy, and as long as she hangs around me, she won’t be.”
“Can I ask why you aren’t dating her?” he asked as he slowly lowered himself into a rocking chair in the corner. His son, Godrick Stoneridge IV, crooned at him, lifting his small fist and placing it on his father’s chin. Godrick grinned at his son and kissed the chubby baby wrist. Damn, the man was hooked.
I didn’t blame him. My nephew was fucking cute. He had flaming red hair just like me. Poor kid, he was going to hear all the clever ginger names people came up with.
“It’s hard to explain.” And I really preferred not to explain it. It was my day off. I wanted to nap, wake up, drink a beer, nap again, watch football, nap, beer, sleep for the night. I had my schedule for the day, and it didn’t involve talking about this.
“Try me,” he said in his smooth, elegant voice.
The bastard.
He was so refined, wealthy, and so well-spoken. He wasn’t an easy man to like at first. Partially because I was jealous of him. Not because of wealth or anything like that, but because he took Lucy from me. It took me a while to let go of that, but now he and I were friends.
I rubbed my hand over the scruff on my face and shook my head. “Something isn’t there. Attraction? Yes. Friendship? Yes. Something else is missing. She’s better off with Cortez. She knows it, and I know it. Simple as that, really. I think if she and I got together, it would be a big regret. She’s kind of part of the family now and that would get ruined. I just think we would slowly poison one another.”
His brows lift in surprise. “Well, it wasn’t that difficult to explain, was it? If it means anything, I think you’re right. You need someone less,” he bounced his head around from side to side, looking for the right word to use, “abrasive? Someone who won’t fight you at every word and turn. Maria is a strong woman, someone who doesn’t need a man to help her on her feet, and she wouldn’t like it if you tried. And something tells me, that’s not the kind of woman you want.”
“I wanted Maria. A part of me still does, and I’m afraid it is going to cause nothing but trouble. I don’t like drama, and I sure as hell don’t want drama with a cop. My luck, he would throw me in a jail cell if anything happened between me and Maria.”
“Probably,” he said with a smug smirk. “That would be fun to see.”
I flipped him off with my finger right as my cell phone rang, and I groaned, tossing an arm over my head with denial. “No, no, no. It’s my day off,” I whined. Godrick gave me my own crew to manage, and right now, I had a few guys over there to paint the walls inside. The house was nearly complete, but I didn’t want to see the damn thing until tomorrow.
“Karma. That’s what happens when you tell your boss to fuck off.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I said. “This better be good,” I greeted when I answered the phone.
“Hey, Mr. Green.”
Ah, Mr. Green. I still hadn’t gotten used to that.
“Why are you calling me on my day off, Jacob?” I deepened my voice to try and show annoyance and authority. I was annoyed.
<
br /> Very annoyed.
“I found something odd inside the house. I thought you’d want to know. I think we have a squatter.”
I pulled the phone away from my ear and took a deep breath. I understood squatters. I couldn’t imagine what they were going through to be put in a position where they had to sleep in a half-built home. The homeless population was growing in New York City, and I knew that this would happen eventually, but right now? They couldn’t stay in the house. It had to be ready in two weeks. So many things could go wrong. They could get hurt from the equipment lying around, which meant a lawsuit, and I wasn’t trying to do that to Godrick.
I did want to bring up to him about building a small apartment complex for the homeless. They could stay there free for a few months, enough to get a job and get on their feet. I wanted to give people a chance at life, and while I didn’t have the bank account to do that with, Godrick did.
“Are they there?” I asked.
“No, but I found a few empty food wrappers and a raggedy looking blanket. Maybe they are gone, but I wanted you to know.”
“You did the right thing.” I was glad it meant I didn’t have to get up and leave to go to the job site. My entire body hurt from lifting those fucking beams yesterday. “Call me if things change, okay? If they show up again, I’ll come down.”
“You got it, and Mr. Green?
I exhaled an annoyed breath, and Godrick snickered from the kitchen. He knew damn well what he was doing when he gave me my own crew. “Yeah, Jacob?”
“If we get done painting early, can we go home?”
“As long as the walls are painted. And I don’t want some half-ass job; if I get there in the morning and see it’s not up to my standards, I’ll have you redo it again, by yourself. You got me?”
Always The Hero (Plot Twist, I'm Pregnant Book 2) Page 1
