Be My Baby

The Baby Saga, # 3

AIRICKA PHOENIX

It started with a drink and ended in a night neither will ever forget.

Calla McClain had done a great number of questionable things in her past, getting drunk at a friend's wedding and winding up in bed with the man she loved should have been a dream come true. Only their one night of mind blowing sex wasn't the only mistake she'd made in her intoxicated stupor.

Waking up hitched to the girl he'd been in love with since they were sixteen suited Jared just fine. He was in no hurry to cut those papers up, no matter how hard the new Mrs. Dumont insisted she was no good for him. He wasn't going to let her keep them apart, and he sure as hell wasn't going to let her walk away now that she belonged to him.

But can Jared accept the demons snapping at Calla's heels? Can he convince her they were perfect for each other? And what will happen when they learn that getting married was the least of their problems?

Be My Baby ©2014 by Airicka Phoenix

All rights reserved.

www.AirickaPhoenix.com

This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical,

photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without prior written permission of the copyright owner and/or the publisher of this book, except as provided by United States of America copyright law.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Beta Readers:

Kia Stone

Jaime Radalyac

Krystal Marlein

Kimberly Schaaf

Editor: Kathy Eccleston

Illustrator: Airicka’s Mystical Creations

Interior Design & Formatting: Airicka’s Mystical Creations

ISBN-13:978-1508948940

ISBN-10:1508948941

Published by Airicka Phoenix

Also available in eBook and paperback publication

Also by Airicka Phoenix

Games of Fire

Betraying Innocence

TOUCH SAGA

Touching Eternity

Touching Smoke

Touching Fire

THE LOST GIRL SERIES

Finding Kia

Revealing Kia

REGENERATION SERIES

When Night Falls

THE BABY SAGA

Forever His Baby

Bye-Bye Baby

IN THE DARK SERIES

My Soul For You

Kissing Trouble

SONS OF JUDGMENT SAGA

Octavian’s Undoing

Gideon’s Promise

Dedication

The love of a mother.

There is nothing greater.

Be My Baby

Prologue

It was the agonizing pain that woke her the next morning. It was the violent drumming inside her skull and the taste of carpet in her mouth. The world was a sickening smear of white that burned the eyes and wrenched at the pit of her stomach where the cute, and very tasty, cucumber cups were making a comeback. Across her chest, a weight crushed her lungs. Another had settled over her thighs. She was pinned to the mattress by her own weakness.

Dear God, I swear never to drink again if you let me get through this without choking on my own vomit.

It was a promise she was almost certain she would keep, simply for the fact that the previous night had been a unique situation captained by memories of days when she actually knew how to have fun, when it hadn’t been a chore.

For a moment, there was nothing but the grinding shrill of a cement chipper chiseling away at the cavity of her brain and her own miserable suffering. Then there was a grunt, a low, husky grunt that, any other time, would have been damn sexy. But in that moment, in her bed, it was so very out of place.

Calla’s eyes popped open. She stared at the ceiling, ignoring the screams of her eyelids and retina. It was incredible that even her eyelashes hurt. Yet that didn’t stop her from sliding her eyeballs ever so slightly to the left in hopes of glimpsing her bedmate without looking directly at him.

As subtle as her movements were, her partner shifted. The pressure on her chest eased as the weight was lifted. Something long, hard, and unmistakable prodded her hip. And that was the last straw.

Calla wrenched free and gracelessly tumbled out of bed, taking the sheets with her.

“Get up!” she shrieked. “Whoever you are, get up and out of my bed!”

By the time she had shoved tendrils of lank, blonde hair out of her eyes and straightened the sheets securely around her aching body—not all the aches bad, she noted—her partner had flopped onto his stomach and lay sprawled across the mattress like he owned the whole damn bed.

He was naked and he was fucking hot from what she could make out. Everything from the taut globes of his behind, to the long, corded lengths of his legs and the enormous, muscular width of his back was designed to make a woman purr. The arms he’d bunched around her helpless pillow strained with unrestricted bulges and thick corded veins. The head nuzzled into her pillow was capped with a mop of neatly trimmed, sandy brown hair and there were claw marks, long, jagged welts along the back of his neck and down the entire span of his spine. There were even little half-moons gouged into his ass cheeks.

Dear God, she’d owned him, or he’d owned her. It was impossible to tell, because with the way her body was thrumming, like it had just run a very insane, very satisfying sex marathon, they had done some serious damage to each other.

“Okay.” Forcing a tongue over her suddenly dry lips, she shoved four fingers back through her tangled hair and ogled him a moment longer. “You need to leave. Like now. Before my husband gets home and beats the hell out of you.”

For several long seconds, there was nothing. Not even a twitch to indicate he hadn’t passed right out again. Then there was a sound like a snort, followed by a quiver that ran down the back she was watching. It took her alcohol violated brain a full minute to realize he was laughing.

“Husband?”

Long arms unwound from their death grip on her pillow and strained as they anchored into her mattress with bunched fists. The ropes along his back bunched and rolled as he heaved all that magnificent-ness onto one side. And Calla’s whole world dipped.

“You?”

Chapter One ~ Calla

ONE WEEK EARLIER…

“Are you even listening to me anymore?” Calla jabbed the big toe on her left foot into her sister’s ribs, right where she knew she would get the most reaction. “Earth to Willa! Come in, Willa. Earth needs you.”

Giving an ungraceful yelp, Willa slapped at the appendage. But at least her focus was no longer on the front door.

“What?”

Calla arched a brow at the sharp bite in her sister’s tone. “I’m sorry. Was our sisterly bonding cutting into your busy schedule?”

Instantly, the scowl was gone and regret softened Willa’s almost pixie features. In that moment, she looked most like their mother. They both shared the delicate chin and narrow nose. In a past life, with their sheet of silky blonde hair and fine attributes, they could have been fairies, Calla thought. Willa even had their mother’s tiny stature whereas Calla towered over both by a full head. She guessed she got that from her father and her Uncle Sloan.

“I’m sorry,” Willa said hurriedly. “It’s just…” She ripped up the sleeve of her sweater and peered at her watch with dismay. “They should have been back already,” she muttered. “I think my watch is broken.”

There was nothing wrong with the watch. The problem lay with the owner.

“Your watch is fine. Why don’t you give it a minute to tick before checking it again?” She paused as her own words replayed through her mind. “Ha! Get it? Give it a minute to tick?”

Willa was not impressed by her sister’s wittiness. She sighed with aggravation and peeked at the glass face of her timepiece again.

“They’re never late,” Willa went on with her one track mind. “You don’t think something happened, do you?”

Calla rolled her eyes. “Seriously?”

“Well, it’s snowing and the weather report said it was supposed to get worse later tonight…”

“Yeah, later tonight. It’s not later tonight. It’s…” She let her words fade into the silence.

There was just no point arguing with the younger girl when her mind wasn’t even in the present, never mind in the same room. She wouldn’t be able to focus no matter what was said to her, or what happened. It was like ADHD, but in reverse; all Willa cared about was that door opening. It was the only thing that mattered once four o’clock struck. There was just no getting through to her after that.

Calla sighed. She peeled her exhausted body up out of the sofa and set her coffee mug down on the coffee table with a clink. She strained the kink out of her lower spine and started across the room.

“I’m going to find something to eat,” she grumbled. “Since my only sister won’t even talk to me.”

Willa seemed to bring herself to hear that. “We are talking.”

“Grunts and mumbles are not conversations, unless you’re a caveman … or Damon,” she said over her shoulder.

Willa bristled. “Damon doesn’t grunt.”

“Maybe not to you, but that’s only because you’re the fabulous and wonderful and darling Willa. The love of his life.”

Pink flags rode high on her sister’s cheeks. “Stop that.”

Calla laughed. “When are you going to put that boy out of his misery?”

“It’s not like that,” Willa mumbled quietly.

“Uh huh.” She paused and turned to face her sister, who was now giving Calla her undivided attention, especially since the topic was on a subject she actually loved. “So, if he were to walk through that door right now and tell you he had a date with another woman, you would…”

Willa hesitated and it was all the answer Calla needed.

Damon Comb was an enigma wrapped in a mystery wrapped in Willa. The broody, dark-haired pain in the ass had all but been glued to her sister’s side since they were children and, oddly enough, that hadn’t changed an ounce once they’d grown up. Damon was still all about Willa and Willa was all about Damon. The only thing that made Calla want to hit them was the fact that they were madly in love with each other and were both too stupid to see it.

“He can go out with anyone he wants,” Willa murmured at last, her gaze never quite touching on Calla. “We’re only friends.”

My. Ass! Calla was tempted to blurt.

“So, it wouldn’t bother you?”

Willa sprung up off the sofa and began to do the thing Willa did best when she was upset: she began to clean. Her small, pale hands moved restlessly over the stack of magazines on the coffee table and set the remotes in a neat row. She was fluffing the pillows when she finally spoke.

“No, why would it?”

“Not even if he married this person and had babies?”

The moment she said it, she wished she hadn’t. Willa’s fussing stilled and her face morphed into one of heartbreaking sadness. She drew one of the pillows into her abdomen and cradled it close.

“Aw, Will.” Calla went to her. “I’m sorry, sweetie.” She pulled her sister into her arms and held her. “I’m such a bitch.”

“Does he like someone else?” The words were a muffled mumble into Calla’s shoulder.

Calla laughed. “I don’t think he knows other women even exist. I’m pretty sure he thinks you’re the only one.”

Willa sniffled. “But what if he does?”

“Then you need to step up to the plate and let him know you want to be the one to have his babies.”

Will jerked away and smacked her with the pillow. “You’re such a loser!”

Chuckling, Calla grabbed the pillow and wacked her back. “Me? I’m not the one who’s been dating the guy for the last fourteen years.”

“Calla!” Willa snatched the pillow back and sat with it hugged to her chest. “We’re not dating.”

“What do you call it when two people only ever see each other?” She narrowed her eyes. “Have either of you even dated, or been with other people?”

Willa frowned, guilt turning her bottom lip into a pout. “No … I mean, I haven’t.”

“Trust me, I’m pretty sure Damon hasn’t either, which is a bit strange considering he’s twenty-one.”

“Do you think he wants to?” The uncertainty was back in her sister’s big eyes. “He does, doesn’t he? He’s a guy. They always want sex.” She nibbled anxiously on her bottom lip. “He’s going to find someone to…”

The front door opened before Calla could respond. Light punctured the shadowy corridor, followed by raised voices, stomping feet, and then figures ambling into the sitting room.

Willa was on her feet so fast, she was almost a blur. Her big eyes moved straight past her father and the second figure that moved in after him to rake over the empty space beyond.

“Where’s Damon?”

Shaking snow off his scarf and toque, Sloan McClain glanced at his daughter with a wiry grin.

“Hello, Willa.” He yanked down the zipper of his coat. “Why, yes, I did have a long day. Thank you for asking.”

Jared Dumont chuckled low over the thud of his boots hitting the mud catcher.

Willa didn’t seem to be listening. “Is he parking the truck?”

Uncle Sloan sighed. “Yes, he’s parking the truck.” He shook out of his coat and hung it up. “Where’s your mother?”

“She’s not home,” Calla answered as Willa hurried to the window and shoved back the lace curtains. “It’s just me and Miss Antsy-Pants over there.”

Shaking his head, Uncle Sloan stomped into the kitchen. Jared followed, but not before drilling intense gray eyes into Calla in passing.

Damn the man was big. Almost seven feet of insane muscles and a face that made women’s nether regions weep. He even moved like a man not to be trifled with, with a grace that was laced with warning. Calla’d had more than one earth shattering orgasm at the mere thought of him. Not that that was something she would ever tell him. While he was delicious and she was more than happy to lap him up like a strawberry sundae during a heat wave, she wasn’t good for him and he deserved someone not as damaged as she was.

“Calla,” he murmured in that deep, husky rumble of his that skated along her spine in rivulets of pure, unadulterated lust.

“Jared.” Months of practice kept her voice smooth and absent of the turmoil raging inside her.

He moved into the kitchen after her uncle. Calla carefully watched the slow amble of his legs, the shift of his wide shoulders beneath his coat and his ass … dear God, the man had one hell of an ass.

“Damon!”

Willa’s enthusiastic gasp nearly sent Calla out of her skin in fright. She whirled around just as her sister hurried away from the window and the sound of the front door slamming shut echoed through the room. A moment later, Damon stood stooped in the doorway, breathing hard. His cheeks were flushed from the cold and he looked exhausted, but he broke into a wide, lopsided grin that sparkled in his blue eyes when he spotted Willa.

“Fucking cold out there,” he said as she undid his scarf and yanked off his wool toque to reveal a mop of unruly black hair. All the while, he watched her like she was some incredible piece of art he couldn’t tear his eyes away from. Willa was smiling, clearly delighted he was home. Yet he saw straight through to the lingering shadows darkening the corners of her happiness. “What’s wrong?”

Willa stilled. Her smile slipped and she stood before him, small and vulnerable. Big, blue eyes peered up into his face with an uncertainty that tugged at Calla’s heart.

“Will?” His large hands reached for her before he realized he had them encased in thick gloves. The gloves hit the ground at their feet and his bare fingers cradled her sister’s chin, smoothed back her hair, and tipped her face back. “What is it?”

Willa’s mouth opened and Calla held her breath, wondering if this would be the moment Willa finally told the guy how she really felt. Willa’s throat muscles moved rapidly in a swallow. Her gaze darted to Calla, pleading for help.

Damon followed the line of her glance and his eyes narrowed. “What did you say to her?”

Calla’s jaw dropped, thrown completely for a loop by the sudden accusation. “Me?”

“No, she didn’t say anything!” Willa planted her hands, still bunched around his scarf and hat, against his chest. “Damon—”

But Damon had no reason to believe either of them when it came to Calla, and Calla didn’t blame him. She’d spent many of their younger years terrorizing her sister just for kicks and Damon had spent the same number of years standing between them, because Willa was too much of a gentle soul to retaliate. His reaction was really no surprise. Plus, it really was kind of her fault for bringing the whole thing up.

“She’s leaving the day after tomorrow,” Damon snapped. “Why are you upsetting her?”

“I wasn’t!” Calla retorted. “We were only talking.”

Damon shook his head. He started to speak, but Willa cut him off.

“It wasn’t her. Damon.” She waited until she had his full attention. “It wasn’t Calla. I promise.”

Calla wondered if either of them noticed they were pressed together, or that his arm had slid around Willa’s tiny waist and she was leaning against him like she could stay there forever.

“What is it then?” he demanded. “Something’s wrong. I can feel it.”

Calla decided she’d leave them to sort it out. If Willa was about to declare her undying love for him, the last thing the younger girl needed was an audience.

“I’m okay,” Willa whispered.

And the last thing Calla saw before she ducked into the kitchen was Damon lacing his arms around her sister and tucking her into his chest.

“Come on.” Willa drew back and took his hand. “I want to show you the new pictures I took today.”

Most men who moved furniture for a living would have told the pint-sized blonde to give him a minute. He didn’t even have his boots off. He only just walked into the house after moving and lifting things for the last six hours in freezing cold weather. But not Damon. Willa could have asked him to build her a stairway to the moon and he would have moved heaven and earth to make it happen. Their absolute love and adoration for the other was the kind every romance junkie begged for.

Together, the pair crossed the room and disappeared down into the basement that had been converted from a toy room into Damon’s bedroom after Uncle Sloan had hired him on as a mover in his company. Calla had a suspicion part of that reason was Willa, to be closer to her, but she never said as much. She liked that her sister had someone like Damon. She liked knowing he would protect her and keep her safe. More than that, she liked that Willa had that kind of unconditional love. It didn’t even bother her anymore that it was Damon. It had for a long damn time. He had been the boy who had ruined her life at school, had made her the laughing stock and made it impossible for her to find any friends. He and Jared. She had hated them both. But like a wart, they had grown on her until one day, it was just normal to see Damon at the breakfast table. It was normal to see him huddled on the sofa with Willa. It was even normal to have Jared practically move in with them. Being Damon’s best friend, the two were as inseparable as Damon and Willa. Yet despite the tight bond the trio seemed to have, they never neglected her. Maybe that was Willa’s doing mostly, but Calla had always been dragged along to join them on their crazy and sometimes stupid adventures. She used to make a big fuss about it, but she had always secretly liked being part of their little group. There were days she still missed it, missed the simplicity of being a kid.

She missed being whole.

“Cal?” Blinking out of her thoughts, Calla turned to the voice. Her uncle stared back at her, the lines around his blue eyes crinkled with concern. “All right, sweetie?”

It took all her restraint not to walk over to him like she used to as a little girl and have him cuddle her. He may not have been her biological father, but he had always been there to chase away the bad dreams and kiss her fears away.

“Yeah, fine.” She twisted a smile over her breaking heart. “How was work?”

“Good. Fine. Just a routine move.”

Calla watched him closely while he spoke. His rugged features that had only grown more handsome over the years were weary, and slightly grimy. He’d taken to not shaving during the winters and his scruff was flecked with strands of gray that were nearly invisible amongst all the blond. He scratched them now as he stared absently at the fridge. He straightened his back, rolling his shoulders as he did so. It was a gesture she recognized as one that his back was acting up again.

“Mom’s going to kill you if you don’t make that appointment with the chiropractor again,” she warned him.

He grumbled something like, not a stupid pretzel, but it was hard to make out. Nevertheless, probably out of fear of his wife’s wrath, he marched to the fridge and yanked out the chiropractor’s card from under a strawberry magnet. He held on to it like it was the cause of all his problems. Then he shoved it into his back pocket.

“Want anything, Jar?” he asked, jerking open the fridge door and rummaging inside.

Calla noticed he didn’t bend all the way forward, but stooped with his knees bent.

Jared shook his head as Calla wandered her way toward the sink and propped a hip against the worn countertop. She didn’t peer at the man taking up so much space in the tiny room just by sitting at the worn table. But his gaze followed her. She could feel the full, hot weight of his attention like the brush of flames at an open campfire. Fear of what she would see in his eyes kept her focused on her uncle.

“No, thanks, Mr. McClain. I’m just waiting for Damon. Then I gotta get home.”

Uncle Sloan straightened and drew back with a bottle of water in hand. He shut the fridge door and turned to the other man in the room.

“Got a date with Denise?”

Jared hesitated for a split second before he nodded. “Yeah.”

Uncle Sloan unscrewed the top off the bottle and took a swig. He wiped the condensation off his mouth with the back of his hand and focused on Calla.

“What about you? Got any plans for tonight?”

Calla shook her head. “Not really. Probably going to go see how Mom’s doing at the shop, but otherwise…” She let her words trail off to nothing.

Seemingly satisfied with that, he mumbled something about taking a shower and ambled out of the room, leaving Calla alone with a man that liked to hog all the oxygen.

“How are you?”

While his question was polite and normal, it reverberated with an undercurrent she was too afraid to decipher.

“I’m okay.” She forced herself to look at him, to drink him in and ache with so much need to touch what she had no right wanting. “How are you?”

“Tired.” He offered her a lopsided grin that still filled his eyes with weary shadows. “Didn’t sleep much last night.”

It killed her to think he was with Denise, tangled and lost in her naked limbs. But she reminded herself how stupid that sounded, how stupid she sounded, even in her own head. He had offered her the option to be his. He had even spelled it out for her so there was no mistaking that he wanted her. But how could she be what he wanted when she wasn’t even who she wanted most days?

“So things are getting serious with Denise, huh?” she said at last, needing to cram her pain with words.

“No.” The rickety chair beneath him creaked beneath his large frame. “I know she wants them to be.”

“Why don’t you?” It was a stupid question. So stupid.

“You know why.” Sparks ignited behind his eyes. “But I’m fucking trying.”

There was no reason for it, but her heart picked up in tempo. Her breathing increased and she wondered if he noticed.

“You look nice together,” she lied. “I’m really happy for—”

“Don’t.”

Her chest ached under the brutal thundering of her heart slamming into her ribcage. “What?”

Gray eyes rose and found hers. The intensity behind them twisted something in the pit of her stomach.

“I don’t want you to be happy for me being with another woman, not unless that woman is you.”

“Jared…”

Calla could think of nothing to use as argument. Not because she had nothing to say, but because nothing she said would matter. It wouldn’t change anything. As hot and bothered as Jared made her, as much as she would have loved to get a taste of him in bed with those delicious arms banded around her, it would never work between them because he would give her everything and she had nothing to give in return. If Denise made him happy, then that was where he belonged, even if she was left dying inside.

He rose to his feet, taking over the entire room with the single gesture. A tremor coursed through her, making her painfully aware of the three strides separating them. He could cross that in one. He could easily move into her space. He could easily take her waist, lift her against him, and kiss her.

No! Stop it! The scared, rational part of her brain begged. He’s with someone. And that was all the reminder she needed; the fire was immediately smothered.

His low, almost taunting chuckle brought her mind back to focus. He was watching her with something like irony.

“How do you do that?”

“What?”

“Look at me like I’m the only thing keeping you alive and still manage to walk away.” He shook his head slowly. “I look at you and I feel like my soul is breaking and I can’t even function through the pain.”

His words punched her in the chest.

“Stop.” It wasn’t even said. The single word was a mute movement of her mouth.

He sighed and shook his head. “Maybe I’m a masochist, or out of my mind, to love a woman who wants nothing to do with me.”

He had no idea how wrong he was. She loved him with a desperation that kept her up at night. But it was because she loved him that she needed to protect him.

“I need to go.”

Damon walked into the room before she could escape. Willa was pressed into his side, her arm laced through his, her head pillowed on his shoulder. She was laughing at something he was murmuring into the top of her head and Calla wondered if maybe she had finally told him.

“Sorry,” Willa said to Jared, grimacing sheepishly. “I know you guys had things to do, but I got carried away showing him my new shots.”

“I swear they just keep getting better each time,” Damon piped in; the pride and amazement in his voice rang like a bell. “They’re incredible.”

Willa flushed and bumped him playfully with her hip. “You always say that.”

“’Cause I always mean it.”

When Willa finished high school and announced she wanted to take photojournalism and Fine art photography in university, no one was surprised. Like their mother, she had the eye and talent for seeing things no one else saw through a camera lens. A talent Calla did not share. Her love lay in fashion, in the creation of taking something ugly and making it beautiful. She loved matching clothes with accessories. She loved dressing people. It was why she co-owned Libellule, a classy boutique offering the tiny town of Willow Creek more than overalls and floral printed dresses. It was Calla’s baby. It was all she had left after everything had been torn away from her. Her entire heart and soul had gone into building and running her tiny empire. Albeit it would never have happened if her mother and Beth hadn’t offered to co-sign with her. In return, Calla had offered her mother one half of the shop for a studio, somewhere families could get their portraits done.

Occasionally, Beth helped, but they never forced her to. She kept her position as nurse at the hospital and worked insane hours. She took a year off to stay home with Toby after he was born, but went back to work once he was old enough to be put into daycare. She was more of the silent partner than an actual participant. Plus, she wasn’t all that into fashion, or photography.

“I’ll leave those things to the professionals,” she always teased.

Once a month, they had a meeting to discuss how things were progressing and if anything needed to be changed. Beth usually didn’t have much to say, but she did what she could. Willa helped when she was home, but mostly in the studio part. Her photos were hung on the walls next to their mother’s and the contrast was always astounding on that side of the room.

Their mother liked scenery and abstract while Willa liked portraits, mostly of people. She had an eye for capturing the essence of the person, the true soul inside. Calla remembered the Christmas Damon got Willa her first camera. That same Christmas, their mother had gotten Willa a camera as well, but Calla suspected that was only to keep Willa away from her expensive equipment. Willa had kept them both and used both frequently. Each year since, Damon added something new to her tools, as she called it. A lens. A bag. A tripod. It sucked for the rest of them, because that limited the number of things they could get Willa that she would actually like.

“It’s fine,” Jared told Willa. “I have to run anyway. We can get it done tomorrow.”

Damon frowned. “You sure?”

With a nod, Jared started for the door. “Text me later.”

Calla hesitated a second, knowing he would be there and there would be very little room in the foyer for both of them. She wondered if she should just wait until he was gone. It certainly seemed like the better idea then being confined in tight quarters with him.

Yet her feet drove her forward. She left the kitchen, crossed the living room and stopped at the narrow opening that gave a sharp turn down a tiny hall to the front door. Jared was drawing his boots on, his back to her as he bent forward. Her gaze was inadvertently drawn down to the taut curve of his bum pressing against the fabric of his jeans and she bottled back a sigh. Her body warmed just at the sight of it. Her hands twitched with the urge to skim over the hard lines of his back, to tuck downward and cradle him in her palms.

Calla had never taken herself as an ass person, but fuck she loved his.

“Am I in your way?”

Flinching at nearly being caught, she darted her gaze upward, hoping he hadn’t noticed. His head was still turned away from her as he did up his laces.

“No, it’s fine.”

Saying nothing, he straightened. The floorboard creaked beneath his weight as he faced her. Gray eyes bore into hers and she wondered if he could see her blush. Gingerly, he unhooked her coat off the wall and shook it open for her. The gesture momentarily surprised her before she caught herself. Her insides fluttered with nerves and an anticipation she knew was wrong. Her hand trembled as she pushed it through the sleeve. Following the motion, she turned her body and hooked her other arm through the second sleeve. The material was settled gently on her shoulders by hands that stayed like hot weights. His front brushed her back and she felt it all throughout her body. Long fingers hooked her hair and freed the blonde strands from the collar. They skimmed her neck and Calla shuddered as a flood of heat rushed to her core from the simple and innocent caress. In the silence, her choked gasp echoed like a scream.

“Jesus, Calla.” The husky growl burned the crown of her head where his mouth grazed. “Why are you doing this to me?”

Aroused, lightheaded, and disgusted with herself, Calla tried to edge away, but there was only so far she could go without coming up against him. In the end, all she could do was turn and corner herself with her back against the wall and face the wolf looming over her.

His eyes were hard chips of flint. His face was set in a dark, almost hungry line that made her insides quiver. Her heart cracked in sharp claps that seemed to resonate helplessly between them.

“Denise…”

The other woman’s name burst from her lips like she was throwing up a shield. It was meant more as a reminder to herself than to him that he was taken and off-limits. But it seemed to work for both of them.

He straightened and released her from his scrutiny. His nostrils flared once as he sucked in a breath. Calla watched him try and pull himself together and something dawned on her, something that washed away the hot river of lust pounding through her.

“Would you?” she asked.

His gaze dropped down from the spot just above her head to fix on hers. “Would I what?”

“Kiss me.” She searched his eyes. “Touch me.” It was a dangerous game she was playing and the spark behind his stare warned her to stop, but she had to know. “If I asked you right now to take me back to your place, would you?”

“What are you doing?” he half growled, half hissed.

“I want … I need to know.”

His shoulders lifted, expanding his chest with his sharp inhale. A muscle coiled in his jaw. Against his sides, his fingers bunched.

“No.” His gaze never wavered from hers. “I wouldn’t.”

“Why?”

He pushed away from her, giving her a chance to finally breathe and slumped against the wall opposite her.

“Because as much as I want you, and God knows how much I fucking want you, I wasn’t raised like that. Denise might not be the woman my heart belongs to, but I wouldn’t disrespect her.”

His answer wound around her heart like a velvet robe and squeezed.

“Will you ever love her?”

His gaze dropped to the floor between them. “No.”

As much as his confession relieved her, it hurt to hear him say it.

“Then why are you with her?”

He rubbed a hand over his face. “Because I need to try.” He lifted his face and peered at her with eyes that cut into her very soul. “I would wait forever for you if you tell me there’s even a small chance, but you told me there wasn’t and I need to try and see if I can ever love someone else the way I love you.”

Without giving her a chance to catch her breath, or calm the rampage of her heart, he reached for the doorknob and wrenched it sharply. The door opened under his grip and swung inward. A sharp sheet of bright light spilled into the corridor. Calla expected him to charge through and leave her. Instead, he held it open and motioned her out first.

Dusk was setting in across the snow blanketed fields straining for miles. The world was a faint blush of light that glimmered faintly like some magical kingdom. Calla remembered all the times she and Willa had played fairy princesses in the snow, twirling around and pretending the falling snowflakes were fairy dust. Jared and Damon would watch from the front steps, never interacting, but always close enough to be forced into playing. Jared would always get nominated as the villain and Damon would be the poor, kidnapped prince that needed rescuing. He’d hated it, but Willa would ask and he would submit and let himself get captured and imprisoned. It had always been Calla’s favorite game.

“What?”

She hadn’t realized she’d been grinning until she found Jared watching her with a wary frown.

She chuckled. “Nothing.”

He looked like he wanted to press, but seemed to think better of it.

“Are you going to be okay driving into town?” he asked instead.

Ice cracked beneath their feet as they descended the front steps. Calla kept a firm grasp on the iron railing as she maneuvered to the bottom without breaking an ankle.

Calla eyed her little blue Volkswagen Beetle and shrugged. “I think so.”

“There’s a storm coming tonight,” he told her. “It’s supposed to be real bad. Why don’t you let me drive you?”

She chuckled and her breath plumed out in front of her in a white screen. “That makes no sense. There’s no storm now so if you drive me, I’d be stuck at the shop when the storm hits. Who’s going to drive me home?”

He mulled over her logic and huffed. “I hate your fucking car.”

Calla laughed at the familiar agitation darkening his scowl. “I know, but it’s the only one I have, so…”

“Get another one!” he snapped. “That tiny piece of crap isn’t safe, especially during the winter.”

“It’s fine,” she assured him as she had a million times before. “I’m not staying long. I just want to make sure Mom’s okay.”

He looked like he was prepared to argue, but she was already turning away and making her way to the object of his fury. Her keys jingled in the wintery silence as she flipped to the right one.

The inside was cold. The leather was crisp beneath her. She gritted her teeth to keep them from chattering as she got the engine started. In the halos of her headlights, Jared’s dark silhouette seemed larger than life a few feet away. He was watching her with his hands on his hips and his feet shoulder width apart. The irritation was a neon sign across his face. Finally, he gave up his showdown with her car and ambled to the massive gray truck parked off to the side. She watched the several tons of metal and machine bow to his weight when he heaved himself into the driver’s side. The door slammed shut behind him and the taillights splashed crimson stains across the snow. His window wheeled down and he thrust out an arm. He waved her on ahead of him.

Her tiny car grumbled in protest as the snow mounds grew higher than the frame. The roads that far out of town were seldom ever plowed. Most normal people bought trucks for that purpose, to avoid getting stuck. Her car was illogical, as Jared constantly reminded her.

“It’s death waiting to happen!”

His concern was endearing and sometimes amusing. She liked her car. It was the first big item she’d bought as an adult. She was proud of it. But, if she were honest with herself, she really needed a bigger car. At least for the winter months. Not that she would ever tell him.

Jared followed her all the way to the outskirts of town, completely out of his way, just to where the snowplows had done their job. He did a U-turn and drove back once she was safely on clear pavement. Calla watched his taillights disappear from sight through her rearview mirror and felt the familiar pang of loneliness in her chest. She hated that he brought it out in her when she fought so hard to keep it suppressed. It hadn’t done her any good in the past. It was that singular feeling that had destroyed her in the first place. She could never allow it to bloom again.

Bottling it back up, she steered her way to the heart of town and the only reason for her sanity.

The shop was brightly lit when Calla reached her usual parking spot in front. The bay windows shone in the setting gloom, giving the place a warm glow. Willa had stapled fairy lights around the glass, framing the mannequins in their pretty outfits and it only further drew the eyes when dusk fell.

The sign over the door swayed with the wind. The chains creaked in the silence as Calla cut the engine and stepped onto the sidewalk. A few people spotted her and waved. She waved back before ducking inside just as the first sprinkle of snow began falling from the inky heavens.

Her mom was behind the gleaming glass counter tucked just beneath the window. Her sleek, blonde hair was pulled back in a pretty French braid that Willa must have done for her. It left her small, round face bare and made her seem remarkably young. Her blue eyes lifted and widened in surprise when she spotted Calla.

“Hey sweetheart.” She lowered her head back to the photo album she was organizing. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

Stomping the snow off her boots onto the mat, Calla shrugged. “I didn’t either.”

Her mom stopped her rifling and looked up again. “Something wrong?”

It took her a moment to answer. She stalled by unhooking the buttons on her coat and shrugging out of the heavy wool. She walked around the counter and speared the coat up next to her mother’s fiery red one.

“No.”

“Calla.” Her mom straightened and folded her arms. “Talk to me.”

“It’s nothing!” She insisted, turning away and marching deeper through the maze of clothes.

There weren’t many. They carried a very small selection of each item, two or three at the most. Not because they didn’t have the room or cliental for it, but it made each article feel like one of a kind and that was what drew people; everyone wanted to be the only one in town with that pair of shoes, or that purse. Women were selfish like that and it was what kept Libellule in business.

“Was Jared at the house again?”

Calla straightened a row of skinny jeans, putting one finger width of spaces between each hanger.

“Yeah.”

“Did you talk to him?”

“No!” she grumbled, voice dripping with agitated sarcasm. “I ignored him and crawled under the table.”

“You know what I mean.”

She did know.

“He’s seeing someone,” she mumbled. “There’s nothing for me to say to him.” She scowled at a t-rack of cashmere sweaters in soft pastel colors. “I don’t have anything to say to him even if he wasn’t.”

“If you’re worried he might not love you back—”

“That’s not it.” Calla turned away from the sweaters to face her mom. “I know he does.”

Hadn’t he been telling her as much since they’d been sixteen? She hadn’t believed him then, not until the day she returned a year ago, a ruined shell of the girl she used to be and saw it in his eyes. It was too late then.

“So what’s the problem?”

What was the problem? That was the million dollar question. There were days she knew the answer and days when it made no sense even to her. But one thing was always for sure: a guy like Jared deserved someone who wasn’t broken. And that was an answer she couldn’t give her mother. It was a secret Calla would take to her grave.

Chapter Two ~ Jared

It was snowing. Fluffy white flakes swirled to the ground in a flurry, like a child twirling the artificial snow inside a snow globe and making the sparkles spin. Against the black backdrop, it seemed infinitely too bright and endless. The cold frosted the windows of the steakhouse and splintered along the glass like claws trying to get in. Despite the muggy heat sprinkled with the scent of tangy BBQ sauce, fried meat, and steamed vegetables, the chill was unmistakable. But all he could think about was Calla and whether or not she made it home.

“Jared?”

Across from him, her face illuminated by the soft, yellow light dangling over their table, Denise studied him. Her blue eyes appeared oddly black in the shadows, but the concern in them was discernable.

“Sorry.”

He tried to focus … again, but the task was becoming increasingly harder with every minute the storm continued. He couldn’t seem to get the image of Calla in that stupid piece of shit she called a car out of his head. It was always followed by the thought of her careening off the road and headlong into a ditch, hitting her head, and dying of exposure before anyone found her. That was always quickly shoved aside with the reminder that town was a mere fifteen minutes away from her apartment and someone was bound to come across her. But what if it wasn’t quick enough? What if she was hit by a transport and killed? What if…

“Jared!”

He sucked in a sharp breath as that last terror gripped around his chest with serrated fingers. “Yeah, I’m here. Sorry.”

“Are you sure?” Denise chuckled warily. “You seem about a million miles away.”

“No.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “I’m here. I was just thinking about the roads.”

Denise glanced at the window and watched as winter pummeled them with yet another wave of snow. The wind howled, reminding Jared of demons. Between that and the blizzard slamming into the glass, he couldn’t be sure this wasn’t the beginning of some horror movie.

She sighed. “It’s getting pretty bad, huh?”

Jared inhaled deeply, trying to cram as much air into his system as possible to ward back the building anxiety threatening to propel him into a panic attack.

“Yeah…” The breathing didn’t help. “How was your day?”

Denise shrugged a smooth, bare shoulder where her knitted sweater had slid off the smooth slope. Her long, dark hair shimmered in the dull light and long, silver earrings glittered. She brushed a hand through the silky strands, pushing them back from her face and tucking them behind one ear. The gesture was fluid and graceful.

“Uneventful,” she said at last. “My days off usually are, I guess. I sort of just stayed at home and cleaned.” She raised a finely plucked eyebrow in genuine interest. “What about you? How was work?”

His job was how they’d met. Denise was moving out of her ex-boyfriend’s house. She found him leaning against the side of the house during his break and asked if he had a smoke. He didn’t, because he didn’t smoke. But she stayed and somehow he wound up asking her to dinner. That was six weeks ago. Since then, they’d spent one night together. It had been nice, but it hadn’t driven him to want more, which wasn’t Denise’s fault. She had been passionate and wonderful, but it wasn’t fair to her that another woman kept jumping between them. It was his fault. He was trying so hard to accomplish something apparently impossible and it just wasn’t working. Maybe he was meant to suffer in hell for the rest of his life. Maybe Calla was his eternal torment. He’d certainly fucking tried to move on and no matter what he did, she pulled him right back in.

“Jar?”

He’d done it again.

“I’m really sorry, Denise.” For more than she would ever know. “I think I should take you home.”

Denise blinked and jerked back a fraction. “But we haven’t even eaten…”

“I know.” He was already sliding out of the booth. “But I don’t think—”

“Don’t.” It was his turn to blink in surprise. She was staring hard at the table between them, her smile gone. “Don’t do that here.”

Without another word, she climbed out of the booth and grabbed her coat. Jared didn’t ask her what was the matter, or what she was talking about. He wasn’t stupid, and neither was she. He dropped money down on the table for the food they hadn’t even received yet and reached for Denise’s hand. She pulled away and he didn’t push.

At his truck, he helped her into the passenger’s side seat and circled around to get in behind the wheel. His keys sounded ridiculously loud in the deafening silence as he fished them from his pocket and drove them into the ignition.

The drive back took less than twenty minutes and only because he had driven there like the devil himself were on their tail. It was stupid and reckless, but he honestly couldn’t get there fast enough.

“This isn’t the way to my apartment,” Denise murmured, watching the buildings blur by.

“I need to make a stop.”

Calla’s shop was the only one still open when he swerved into the empty spot next to Lily’s black Mustang. Calla’s bug was nowhere to be seen and that only escalated the disquiet in his gut.

“Wait for me,” he told the puzzled woman next to him. “I’ll be a minute.”

Shoving open his door to the blistering cold, Jared leaped out. The door slamming shut resounded through the empty streets. It was followed by the hurried crunch of his boots as he jogged to the shop. Lily’s head jerked up when he threw the door open with a little more force than was necessary.

“Jared?”

His gaze swung over the neatly kempt space, not really touching on anything, but knowing instinctively she wasn’t there.

“Is Calla still here?”

Lily frowned. “No, she left about ten minutes ago. Why?” She shut the album she was working on. “Is something wrong?”

The stubble on his chin scratched his fingertips when he rubbed at his jaw. “The snow’s coming down pretty hard and I fucking hate that piece of shit she drives.” He winced when Lily’s dainty brow lifted. “Excuse my language.”

There was a glimmer of something in the woman’s eyes, but her face remained perfectly neutral.

“She should be home by now.”

Jared nodded. “Maybe.” He drew in a breath filled with the scent of lavender and cleaner. “I’ll drive by and make sure.” He started to leave when another thought occurred to him. “Can I drive you home, Mrs. McClain? No offense to your car, but it would really put my mind at ease. I’ll even come by tomorrow morning to pick you up and bring you back.”

Lily smiled and Jared could see why Sloan had fallen so hard for her. She was a beautiful woman, small and delicate, but strong in a way that reminded him of Calla.

“You’re very sweet, Jared. But I’m all right. I’ve driven through worse in that car.”

“Please,” he pressed. “I insist.”

She eyed him, and for a moment he was sure she was going to refuse again. But her head bobbed once, making the light overhead catch the silky, blonde strands woven along the back of her head.

“All right. Let me grab my things.”

He waited with near patience as she closed the shop down and followed him to the truck. He opened the backdoor for her and helped her up into the warm cabin. She was buckling her belt when he slid in behind the wheel.

Denise met his gaze in the dim light, her eyes filled with confusion, and he felt a stab of guilt.

“I need to make a quick drive by Calla’s place.” He fastened his own belt. “I just want to make sure she got home all right.”

Denise shrugged, but said nothing.

They pulled out in silence. Rubber ground over snow as they maneuvered out of town. The roads could have been empty of other cars, or people. But the absolute whiteout made it impossible to be sure. It also forced him to drive at a near snail’s pace to avoid hitting anyone, or driving off the road. His window wipers squeaked against the glass in rapid sweeps, but all he could make out was just the hood of his truck.

“Hello Denise,” Lily broke the quiet.

“Hello Mrs. McClain,” Denise murmured.

“How was your date?”

“We didn’t have one,” Denise stated bluntly.

Jared didn’t miss the implication, or the displeasure in her tone. He knew he should explain, but what the hell was he supposed to say? The way he felt about Calla, he couldn’t even explain it to himself. It wasn’t right, or fair, not to him, not to Calla and sure as hell not to Denise. But Calla had always been his weakness. Ever since they were kids. The fire and life in her always made him want to draw closer, to feel it on his skin, to bask in it. Then she’d gone to school and returned a completely different person. The fire was there. It reared its head sometimes, but it was always quick and then gone. He didn’t know what had happened to her in the two years she was gone, but the part of him she had taken with her was never returned.

“Jared!”

Lily’s alarmed gasp drove his foot down hard on the brake. The tires growled as they fishtailed ever so slightly on the road before coming to a jerking halt. His heart continued to roar even though they were at a complete stop.

“There!”

Lily leaned between his and Denise’s seats and pointed out the windshield, not that she had to. Even in the obscurity, it was impossible to miss the twin beams of light piercing through the darkness, shooting towards the sky.

His heart slammed into his stomach.

“No…”

The tension in his voice echoed in the grip he had around the wheel. In his chest, his lungs constricted, pleading for him to breathe. But he couldn’t. He could scarcely think as he rolled over onto the shoulder and leaped out of the car.

“Call for help,” was all he could think to tell Lily, who was already struggling with her belt. “Stay in the car.”

He slammed the door shut and sprinted to where he could just make out the faint outline of a car. It must have spun on the road, because it was facing the opposite direction with its butt in the ditch and its nose jutting out. Ice spiked him in the eyes, blinding him to the make or model. He forced an arm up to shield his face as he jogged to where the car rose out of the bank like a great, white shark. The wide front was the first thing he saw and he felt momentarily terrible at the relief that washed over him. A relief that nearly sent him to his knees.

Not Calla.

Exhaling and inhaling deeply, he pushed forward.

“Hey!” he called over the screaming winds. “Anyone in there?”

The driver’s side door opened and a head poked out.

“Yes!”

Jared edged around the side, making his way carefully down the incline. “Is anyone hurt?”

“No, we’re okay.” The woman was as stark white as the snow around her. Tendrils of blonde fluttering around her ashen cheeks from beneath the wool cap pulled low around her ears. He tried not to think how the color matched Calla’s. “We hit a patch of ice and slid.”

“Is someone coming?” Jared joined her and peered inside the car at the tiny face staring back at him from the backseat.

The woman shook her head. “My phone is dead. We were on our way home. My husband’s out of town.”

Jared nodded. “Why don’t we get you guys out of this cold and then we’ll call someone to come get your car?”

Agreeing gratefully, the woman, with Jared’s help, pulled the boy out of the backseat, grabbed their bags, and followed him to the truck.

Lily scooted over as the group climbed into the back with her. Jared pulled out an old blanket he kept under the bench and wrapped it around the kid.

“Okay?” he asked.

The kid, maybe nine or ten, nodded and dragged the blanket closer.

Giving his knee a quick pat, he raised his head to the mother. “I have to make one stop, but I’ll take you guys home right after, if that’s okay?”

The woman nodded, bundling the boy close into her side. “That’s fine. Thank you so much.”

Nodding, Jared closed their door and hurried around the back to his side.

Calla’s car was parked in her usual spot when Jared drove by. There was a mountain of snow around it, but it was there. Safe.

He exhaled what felt like his first breath in hours.

“I guess she made it,” Lily murmured quietly from the seat behind him.

“Yeah,” he said, turning the truck around. “She’s okay.”

He drove Julianne and Landon home first; their house was up the street from Calla’s.

“Thank you again,” she said for the hundredth time. “I can’t say it enough.”

With the ominous visions of Calla hurt gone from his mind, Jared could actually focus. He gave Julianne his name and number.

“Call me if you need anything,” he told her.

Julianne thanked him … again, and propelled Landon out of the car.

Jared watched them sprint up the path to the little, dark house nestled behind a giant oak tree. He waited until the front door had shut behind them before turning the truck around and driving Lily home.

“That was really kind of you,” Lily said. “Helping those two.”

The compliment puzzled him. His gaze flicked for only a split second to the rearview mirror and the pale woman sitting behind his seat.

“I couldn’t leave them out there.”

Lily shrugged and gave a nod. “No, but most would have.”

Saying nothing, Jared focused on the road.

Sloan stood on the steps when Jared pulled into the driveway. He was bundled up against the elements and looked like he was prepared to head out. At the sight of Jared’s truck, he descended the steps and stalked over.

“Thank you, Jared,” Lily said, gathering up her things and pushing the back door open before Jared, or Sloan, could.

“I was just on my way to get you!” Sloan shouted over the shrieking winds.

He took his wife’s hand and gently helped her down before slamming the door shut. With his free hand, he waved to Jared in thanks before leading Lily inside.

At last, it was just him and the brunette in the seat next to him. Denise must have sensed what was coming, because she was unusually quiet through most of the drive. While she wasn’t usually a chatterbox, she had a need to fill silent spaces, even if it was with music, or just the shift of her body in the seat. Jared didn’t mind the silence. It helped him think, so he was almost grateful for the lull.

Pulling into the snow covered driveway, he cut the engine. Denise continued to say nothing as he climbed out and rounded the front of the truck to her side. He gave her his hand, but she grabbed the handle bar on the side instead. He didn’t comment on it. Instead, he led her with a gentle hand on her lower back towards the door.

On the porch, she fidgeted with her keys. There were only three on the ring and her house one was the one with a rubber grip. She was stalling.

“Want to come in?” It was said reluctantly.

“Please.”

The last time he’d been in her house, it was to move her stuff in. He hadn’t been there since. It was clean, neatly organized in shades of pale blue and white. The furniture was all wicker padded by various cushions and pillows. It reminded him of a single story beach house. The only thing missing was the sand across the floor and seashells everywhere. There was a narrow hallway with what looked like three doors at the end, which he assumed were the bedroom and bathroom. Possibly a closet, or a guestroom. It didn’t matter. He wasn’t there to redecorate the place.

Denise left him to pick his way around and headed into the kitchen tucked on the other side of the sitting area. A counter with a window separated the two. He could see her puttering around, putting together a pot of coffee.

“Want coffee?” she called out to him.

Jared crossed to stand in the kitchen doorway and watch her. He must have taken too long to respond, because she set the coffee pot down and turned to him, her face drawn.

“This is it, huh?”

He didn’t ask her how she knew. He nodded.

Her throat muscles constricted with her swallow. Her gaze dropped to the floor between them.

“It’s her, isn’t it?”

Again, he didn’t insult her intelligence by asking who, or how she knew.

“No.”

A muscle bunched in her jaw, but she raised her face to meet his eyes. “Why then? Was it something I did?”

“No,” he said again. “It’s not you at all. I thought I would be able to let go and move on, but I can’t and I can’t keep seeing you when I know I will never be the man you deserve.”

“So, it is her.” It wasn’t a question. “You love her.”

Jared sighed heavily. “Yeah.”

Denise chuckled humorlessly. “I knew you did, even before you asked me to dinner the first time. I just thought that since you were asking that maybe…” She bit the inside of her lips. “Does she love you back?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, she’d be a damn fool if she didn’t.” She offered him a small smile. “You’re a great guy, Jared Dumont. Any girl would be lucky to have you. I’m just sorry that girl wasn’t me.”

“I’m sorry.”

She waved his apology aside with a wave of her hand. “I knew this wouldn’t last. It was fun and lord knows I wanted it to, but I’m realistic. You were never mine. You always belonged to her. I was just … keeping you warm.” She chuckled. “Granted, not sure how good of a job I did.”

“You were wonderful,” he assured her, meaning it. “It was never my intention to hurt you.”

“Truthfully?” She turned back to the coffee pot and held it under the faucet. “Keeping this going while you still wanted her would have hurt me a whole lot more. But that doesn’t mean I won’t swoop in if she doesn’t smarten up.” She slanted him a lopsided grin from over her shoulder. “Men like you don’t grow on trees.”

It was his turn to chuckle, though he didn’t feel it. “I’m sorry anyway.”

Her smile slipped. She shrugged. “Yeah, me too.” The pot was shoved under the machine and the red light was activated. She turned to him. “Take care, all right? And if you go to the Cho wedding this weekend, save me a dance?”

He nodded. “Count on it.”

With a wave, he walked out, feeling marginally lighter. He climbed back into his truck and headed home. He was just stomping up the steps to his apartment when his phone chimed deep in the folds of his jacket. It took some digging and cursing to finally unearth the device and check the text massage.

“Hey.” Was all it said.

Jared juggled his keys slightly to better grip his phone and typed back, “Hey.”

It took Damon about a minute to respond. “Shit weather, eh?”

“Yeah.” He paused to let himself into his apartment before returning to his message. “What are you doing?”

“Chilling w/Willa. U? Still on ur date?”

Working quickly, he discarded his jacket over the back of the sofa and abandoned his boots on the mat before shuffling his way into the bedroom.

“Broke up with Denise.”

The response was almost instantaneous in the form of the phone buzzing to life in the palm of his hand. Damon’s sour face, barely concealed by dark sunglasses, giving Jared the middle finger shimmered across the screen. He hit talk.

“Yeah?”

“What happened?”

It took Jared a minute longer to think of that answer. “Just not right.” Something was echoing in the background. The inconsistent bangs reminded him of gunfire. “What are you guys watching?”

“Goonies.”

Jared snickered. “Willa picked?”

“Doesn’t she always?” there was an oomph where Jared suspected Willa had elbowed Damon.

“I like this movie,” she grumbled, and she was loud enough so that Jared suspected he was on speaker phone, and that she was very close.

He had a familiar image of the two curled up on Damon’s bed and wondered, not for the first time, how Damon managed to keep his hands—and boner—to himself. He knew for a fact the pair had never slept together, and he knew Damon hadn’t slept with anyone else, not even once and yet, unlike most boys who struggled the first half of their lives to lose their virginities as fast as possible, Damon seemed in no hurry. Jared knew he had no patience like that. He’d lost his virginity to Sandy Carson when they’d both been fifteen. Sure, he could count on one hand the number of girls he’d been with since, but Damon didn’t even have that. Jared didn’t know whether to be impressed, or a little disturbed.

It wasn’t as though Damon never had admirers. There had never been a shortage of girls in school just waiting to catch Damon Comb’s broody attention. The same went for Willa. There were always boys vying for a minute of her time. But neither ever seemed to notice. It was as though the whole world ceased to exist to them. Jared remembered being in high school and standing in the crowded hall with Damon, waiting for Calla and Willa to meet them. Girls would be everywhere, flocking past in a parade of beautiful smiles and flirtatious eyes. Some would even call Damon and he’d nod in their direction, then he’d return to seeing through them all. Until Willa came into view, and Damon always knew when she would. It was as though he had a sixth sense for her. His head would turn in her direction before she even rounded the corner. It always creeped Jared out.

“Jared?”

Jared blinked and focused on the phone again. “Yeah?”

“Mom says don’t worry about driving her to get her car tomorrow,” Willa said. “Dad’s going to get it in the morning.”

Jared nodded. “Okay.”

“Hey, you coming tomorrow night?”

Jared never said no, not because he couldn’t, but because there was never a good enough reason not to go. Sunday night dinners with the McClain’s were almost a tradition at that point. He’d been doing it since he was a kid. It got to the point where his own parents stopped asking him over to their after church dinners. In the beginning, it was because of Damon. Then it was about Calla. And it still was.

“You should bring Denise,” Willa advised.

“They broke up,” he heard Damon murmur.

“Oh! Aw, I’m sorry, Jared. You okay?”

Jared sat on the end of his bed and stared out his bedroom window at the wall of black painting the glass. The snow had slowed to a simmering rage. The wind was no longer slamming itself against the side of the house like it had something to prove.

“Yeah, fine,” he said absently into the phone. “It just wasn’t working out.”

“Why?”

Jared hesitated, not because he was worried about what they would say, but because it would be the first time he’d voice the truth out loud.

“I’m in love with your pigheaded sister.”

Willa was quiet for a second before murmuring, “I’m sorry.” She sighed softly. “Don’t let her bring you down. It’s not you, or her. She’s just … Calla. She hasn’t been the same since she got back from school.”

No, she wasn’t. He had no idea what had happened to her in the two years she was gone, but neither did anyone else.

“She still hasn’t told you?” he asked.

Willa sighed again. “No, I don’t really want to push either. She always gets really sad when I bring it up. I figure she’ll tell me when she’s ready.” She paused for a moment. “Jared?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t give up on her.”

Despite himself, Jared chuckled humorlessly. “I don’t think that’s possible.”

“Good. I know she won’t admit it, but she really needs someone like you.”

He blinked. “Me?”

“Someone who knew her before. Someone willing to bring that side of her back, even if they have to push through her defenses.” She hesitated again, this time longer. When she spoke, her voice was rushed and tense, like she was divulging things she shouldn’t be. “She loves you, too.”

Jared?” she whispered when it took his brain too long to untangle itself from the excited mess his heart was making in his chest.

“I’m here.”

“Don’t tell her I told you,” she pleaded. “She’d kill me, or worse, she’d hate me.”

“I won’t,” he mumbled, feeling slightly dazed.

He had always known Calla wanted him the way a woman wanted a man. He had always suspected she might even care for him. But it had never crossed his mind that she might love him. That fact changed everything.

Chapter Three ~ Calla

Sundays had always been Calla’s favorite day of the week. Even as a sullen teenager who claimed the whole world was against her, she looked forward to spending the entire day with the people she loved. After starting university, that need to be home had been at its worst. The weekends she couldn’t make it back had been torture. And when she did, leaving had been hell. Then that had changed for what she had thought was for the better. God, she had been so stupid.

“Calla?”

Sucking in a breath, Calla focused on her mother’s face. “Yeah?”

They stood around the kitchen island in her father’s home. Most gatherings were held there, simply because it was bigger and could accommodate the number of people their family had accumulated over the years. Her dad and Beth had redone most of the kitchen so it was large enough for free movement. The living room was done up the same to hold two whole sofas plus plenty of chairs, more than any other house Calla had ever seen. Most of the upstairs was left untouched, but the basement was renovated a few years back. The concrete walls and floors were insulated and boarded up. It was now fully furnished, which worked out great for her dad since he spent the majority of his time toying with computers down there.

Unlike her Uncle Sloan, her dad wasn’t a manual labor sort of guy. He got crabby just rearranging the furniture around the house, never mind moving other people’s stuff. He just had no patience for it. He was the sit and tinker sort. It was why his in-home repair and installation business had practically boomed since opening fifteen years ago. It was the only place where the people of Willow Creek could go to get their electronic devices fixed and updated that was affordable and nearby.

Toby was more like their father. While no one expected him to know what he wanted to do after he left school, at twelve he was already showing great promise in computers, which delighted the hell out of their dad.

“Calla!” Her mother was shouting now, like Calla was across the country and not one marble counter away from her.

“What?” Calla snapped back without meaning to. She grimaced and tried again. “Sorry?”

They stood like a trio of witches around the kitchen island with Beth on Calla’s right, studiously dicing tomatoes, and Calla’s mother straight across. Usually Calla was all ears when it came to talk of business, but her mind had slowed to a snail’s pace, refusing to do more than grasp the simplest snippets.

“Beth was just telling us about the website your dad put together for the shop,” she said very slowly, like Calla was hard of hearing. “He wants us to approve it before he makes it live.”

“Oh.” Calla nodded. “Great. Can’t wait to see it.”

Her mom narrowed her eyes. “Uh huh.” She held out a block of cheese. “You’re in charge of grating.”

“Oh. Right.”

Calla took the cheese and grater and dutifully rubbed one against the other, creating a small shredded pile in a bowl.

“Where’s Willa?” her mother muttered, glancing towards the open doorway.

“Probably up in Damon’s room,” Beth replied, scooping the diced bits of tomato into a small bowl. “That seems to be their secret hiding place whenever they’re over here.”

“Well, she was supposed to quarter the chicken,” Lily McClain grumbled, wiping her hands on her apron. “I’ll go get her.”

Alone with Beth, Calla concentrated on shredding cheese.

“Everything okay, Cal?”

Her default smile worked around her mouth without her thinking about it. “Yeah. Fine.”

Beth eyed her. Calla didn’t look up to see it, but she could feel the scrutinizing once over.

Like Sloan, Beth was a second parental figure to Calla. A second mom. She had helped raise Calla and Willa since they were babies. The fact that her husband shared a child with another woman never fazed her, as far as Calla knew. If it did, she never let that stop her from loving Calla like her own. If there was anyone Calla wanted for her dad, it was Beth. She completed him. She completed the whole family. Plus she was one-half responsible for Toby and Calla adored that boy.

The whole dynamics of the McClain clan was a complicated one to understand unless a person was a part of it. It made sense to Calla, but only because she was raised with the knowledge that Cole was her father. Lily was her mother. Willa and Toby were her siblings. Then there was Damon. Her father and Beth had adopted him into their family despite Calla’s protest. She never called him her brother. He was always just Damon, or Willa’s Damon as most everyone knew him. Even the town. It had started as a joke that caught on and stayed. Damon never seemed to mind.

But like everything else, that too was accepted. There was no blood between Damon and the McClain gang. He was the scrawny, severely abused six year old her father had brought home one day. Everyone knew his story, knew where he’d came from and who he was. But despite everything, Willa had claimed him as hers. He never fought it. Even as children, he chose Willa over his friends, over going out, over every other girl. Love like that made all other love seem insignificant and false. But that was the thing about her family, Calla realized. They had the capability of a love too strong to be real. Her parents were the perfect example.

Cole, Calla’s father, grew up with her mother. They’d been best friends their entire lives. Sloan was Cole’s older brother and the man her mother had always loved. Thinking he could never possibly love her back, her mother had made a pact with Cole to lose their virginities together, which resulted in the conception of Calla. In the end, Sloan and Lily got married and had Willa. Beth and Cole got married and had Toby. And together their family was made.

Sometimes, Calla couldn’t help wondering if maybe her parent’s love for each other, the love she’d grown up seeing every day wasn’t the reason she had so easily fallen for so many lies. If it hadn’t somehow built her up to be destroyed. All her life, she’d had this picture in her head of what love was and she had been so desperate to feel it in her darkest moments that she had thrown herself into the first glimpse of possibility and been obliterated.

Love had broken her.

“But I’m leaving tomorrow.” Willa was forcibly shoved into the kitchen, breaking the silence.

“Exactly.” Their mom followed her in. “We want to spend some time with you, too.”

Grumbling, Willa took the stool across from Beth and began picking at the chicken and eating it until their mother smacked her on the back of the hand.

“Ow!”

“Stop that!” their mother scolded. “We’ll have nothing left if you eat it all.”

Willa crinkled her nose, but stopped eating the chicken.

“How’s school, Will?” Beth asked.

Willa immediately perked. “Great!” she said excitedly. “We’re learning about lighting and how to get the perfect—”

The doorbell rang, interrupting what was sure to be a long retelling of everything Willa had learned that semester. All heads turned to the open doorway looking out into the sitting area and the front door. Calla’s father answered it and for a moment, all they could see was the hulking figure silhouetted against the setting sunset. But Calla would have recognized that shape anywhere.

“Jared’s here!” her father announced.

Calla turned back to the cheese, her hands just a notch too unsteady.

“Why does he keep showing up?” she mumbled to no one in particular.

She knew even before the words hit the air that she was being stupid. Jared was always invited for Sunday dinner. Always. Yet it never made the situation any easier.

“What do you mean?” her mother asked.

Calla shook her head. “Nothing.”

Her neatly shredded bowl of cheese was taken away, dumped into a bigger bowl and replaced in front of her to fill again.

“Jared drove out to see you last night,” her mother said out of the blue. “He cut his date short with Denise and went all over town looking for you.”

Calla fought not to react, to stay focused on the rhythmic motion of cheese raking over sharp ridges. But inside, her heart gave a hard kick.

Beth glanced up, her eyes wide with interest. “Oh? Why’s that?”

“Said he wanted to make sure Calla got home safely.”

There was no missing the underlying spark in her mother’s tone, the amusement and evident wheedling. Even Beth looked impressed and interested.

“Something you’d like to tell us, Cal?”

“No.”

“He saved a mom and her son that got stranded on the side of the road,” her mom went on. “He even insisted on driving me home so I didn’t get stuck in the storm.”

“Well, that was nice of him,” Beth said.

Willa wiggled in her seat, reminding Calla of a child who needed to use the bathroom. Her blue eyes darted from Calla to their mother and back.

“What’s your problem?” Calla muttered.

Willa groaned like she was in pain, but shook her head. “Nothing.”

“I always liked Jared,” Beth remarked evenly.

“Oh, I do too!” Calla’s mom said, like they were talking about a pair of pretty shoes. “I remember him bicycling all the way over to the house, panting and sweaty and asking if Willa and Calla could come out to play.”

“He was such an awkward little guy as a kid.” Beth laughed. “All arms and legs, but he’s certainly grown into a very good looking and kind man.”

“You need someone like that, Calla,” her mom said.

“I’m focusing on the shop right now,” she muttered a little too tightly.

“You can take a little time,” Beth encouraged. “You’re young. Now’s the time to explore all the things this world has to offer, that includes falling in love.”

Her fingers gouged into the cube of cheese, leaving little crates in the surface. “I’m not interested!”

“You said yourself Jared loves you,” her mom said. “Why not give it a chance—”

“Stop it!” Calla snarled, making the trio jump. “What is the matter with you? He’s with someone. Have a little respect.”

Shooting both women hard glares, she dusted her hands on her jeans and left the kitchen.

In the bathroom, she snapped the lock into place and threw herself at the sink. Her fingers shook as she twisted on the cold water and ran her hands under them before splashing her face. Some of her senses were jarred back, but not enough. Her insides continued to heave and writhe with guilt and shame. While she wanted to blame her mother, she knew the flicker of excitement that rose every time she felt his eyes on her had nothing to do with meddling. But it was wrong. So wrong. She shouldn’t want him looking at her. She shouldn’t enjoy seeing the yearning there, the desire and want. She shouldn’t want to feel him against her, on her … in her. God, but she did.

She dropped limply onto the toilet and cradled her face in her wet hands.

“No…” she sobbed quietly. “Please not again. Please.”

It felt like forever before she had her emotions back in order. She was still unsteady, but managed to keep most of the tremors hidden when she wrenched open the door and found herself face to face with the center of all her problems.

“Jared?”

He stood leaning against the wall opposite the door, arms folded. Even with the bulky sweater, his muscles strained the wool around his shoulders, arms, and chest. She briefly wondered how the skinny kid she went to school with turned into a specimen of naughty dreams. Maybe it was him working at her uncle’s moving company. Maybe it was in his genes. Maybe he worked out. Whatever it was, he was delicious and he made her want to step into his chest and get enveloped by all those muscles.

“What’s wrong?”

Calla blinked out of her fantasies. “What?”

He shouldered away from the wall and stood looming like a dark force over her. “You were crying.”

“No, I wasn’t!” The lie came automatically and too quickly.

“Something isn’t right,” he mused slowly, ignoring her protest. “I don’t know what it is, but I can feel it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Who hurt you?”

Her insides quivered. The urge to crumble into inconsolable tears tightened her jaw. She bit the inside of her cheek until the pain in her chest dimmed to a dull roar.

“Let me pass.”

He ignored her demand. “I want to know what happened to the girl I knew, the one who had a comeback for everything and laughed like she didn’t give a shit.”

“She grew up!” she snapped, her chest heaving. “She realized what a spoiled, selfish little bitch she was.”

“No, she wasn’t. She was strong, confident and amazing.”

It crushed her to hear him say it. She had fought so long and so hard to destroy that person, to burn her to nothing and scatter the ashes. The person she had been was egotistical, so arrogant in her own self-worth. She had been a princess in a glass fortress. It had only taken one stone to shatter her entire world to shards of nothing.

“Maybe she realized that life sucks and love doesn’t exist,” she mumbled.

“You don’t believe that.” His confidence momentarily stole her thunder. The delicate glide of his fingers over the slope of her cheek shocked her into silence. “You don’t believe that,” he repeated so quietly, she almost couldn’t hear him over the rampage of her heart. “I won’t let you.”

Her hand caught his, stopping him from touching her again. Her blue eyes clashed with his gray ones in a battle of wills.

“You need to stop,” she whispered. “Whatever you’re hoping to find in me, it’s gone.”

He shook his head. “It’s not. I see it sometimes. It’s faint, like the blurred picture of a ghost peeking through a grimy window. But it’s there and I’m going to find it.”

With that, he stepped away, pivoted on his heels and disappeared down the short hallway to join the others. Calla considered leaving. She considered faking an illness and making an escape, but her mom would see through her. So would Jared and possibly Beth and the whole gang. It was the downfall of being so close to so many people. They knew everything about her and all her energy was usually reserved for pretending she was fine the majority of the time. The only thing left was to steel her spine and face the music.

“Hey there sweetheart.” Her father came up to her the moment she stepped into the sitting room and slipped an arm around her shoulder. “Everything okay?”

Calla forced a laugh. “Why does everyone keep asking me that?”

Her father’s intense blue eyes bore into hers, seemingly searching her soul. Calla dropped her gaze and pretended to straighten her thick, purple sweater over her jeans.

“You haven’t been yourself lately,” he murmured. “We worry.”

“I’m fine.” She lied. “Mom and Beth say you have the website all done up. Can’t wait to see it.”

Her sly maneuvering didn’t go unnoticed by him. He arched an eyebrow, but let her get away with it.

“It kicks ass,” he declared. “If I do say so myself. It might not get hits with all the younger kids, but your clothes aren’t meant for them anyway, right?”

Calla nodded. “Right.” She turned to him, went up on her toes, and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you, Daddy.”

But rather than let her retreat, his arms went around her and she was crushed into the warm scent of fabric softener and something spicy. His lips grazed the top of her head.

“Anything for you, baby.”

She let herself get cuddled. Let her daddy hold her and, for those few seconds, make the hurt stop. Then he drew away and she forced herself to smile.

“I should go help finish.”

With a kiss to her forehead, he let her hurry away.

Dinner was the usual stream of chatter of voices and clatter of dishes. Calla tried to listen and contribute, but the man across from her made every effort seem strenuous and impossible. Even while his conversation was with Damon, she could feel his attention on her, could feel him listening and analyzing everything she said. His unwavering scrutiny was wreaking havoc on her nerves and exhausting her in a way that made her want to cry all over again.

Toby sat on her right, showing her the new hand game device he’d modified and upgraded to some super pack something or other. Calla tried to listen, but even if she understood half the things he was telling her, her mind kept wandering back to the conversation she’d had with Jared outside the bathroom, which wasn’t fair to Toby.

“So what does it do now?” she asked, genuinely trying to get interested.

Toby shrugged. “It’s mostly just space,” he told her. “I have more room for more games and stuff.”

Calla nodded slowly. “That’s good!”

Toby stuffed his device away before his mom spotted it at the table. “I think this’ll do great things for my business.”

There wasn’t a single moment where Toby didn’t have some type of scheme going. He reminded Calla a lot of herself at that age, without the overconfidence and bitchy attitude. She hadn’t been lying to Jared when she’d said she’d been a spoiled bitch. She had known it, and loved it. But Toby was more graceful about it. He had an eye and nose for business. There were those he’d told her about, like the marble arena he’d put together, which was basically a gambling ring and fight club but with marbles; kids would flock to the dead stretch of nothing just beyond the gates of the school so they weren’t on school property, but close enough to run back when the bell rang. Then Toby would take bets to see which kid’s marbles could stay in the ring the longest. The cost of marbles had skyrocketed that summer. He’d been ten at the time. Then the school found out and called Beth, who had made Toby give nearly nine hundred dollars in lunch money back.

“So, what’s the plan this time?” Calla asked.

Toby stole a glance towards his mother before leaning in close and lowering his voice. “Modification of systems,” he hissed. “For twenty bucks, I’ll hack your device to get unlimited downloads.”

Calla burst out laughing. “I love you.”

Toby grinned.

He looked almost identical to their dad, same blond hair, same blue eyes, and same impish grin. But he had Beth’s nose.

Leaning in, Calla kissed him soundly on the top of the head. “Don’t get caught this time.”

“Dude, right?” He rolled his eyes. “I was sure she was going to kill me!” He shook his head. “I learned my lesson. But technically, the school had no right to get involved. We weren’t even on school grounds. If I could afford a lawyer, I’d take them to court. I asked Dad, but Mom gave him the look.”

Calla hissed through her teeth. “Tough break.”

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “Lesson learned. Now I do my business down by the old quarry, which reminds me…” He tilted his head around Calla. “Dad? Can I get new wheels for my bike?”

Pausing his conversation with Willa, their dad glanced over with a frown. But it was Beth who spoke.

“Didn’t we just put new tires on that thing?”

Toby shrugged with the most innocent expression Calla had ever seen. “I’m a kid. I ride rough.”

Calla smothered a laugh by mashing her lips together.

“Let me see if I can’t patch it up first,” their dad said.

Toby nodded and leaned back. His blue eyes met Calla’s.

“Sharp rocks are murder on tires,” he said. “And the quarry’s full of ‘em. Someone should really look into that. It’s not good for business if kids can’t get to me.”

“The old miner’s bridge,” Calla said. “That’s where I used to go when I didn’t want to get caught.”

Willow Creek had never had miners, but back when people got around by horse, someone had built a rickety old bridge just near the edges of town. It was walking distance from the school and the perfect place to make out. Calla had taken a few boys there back in the day, but she had never let them go past second base. There had never been anyone she liked enough to get fully naked with, except Jared. But he’d been too busy tumbling every girl that glanced sideways at him that she never even allowed herself to consider it. She’d gone to university a slutty virgin, which was irony in itself. She had known all the ways to drive a guy crazy without ever having had a cock. She’d been flirtatious, brazen, and utterly inappropriate and the boys had loved it.

Then the whole thing had come around and smacked her in the face.

“Nobody goes there anymore,” Toby was saying when she focused again. “A bunch of kids trashed the place and then there were the squatters and all the drug stuff … it’s really gross now.”

“That sucks,” Calla muttered.

“Meh.” Toby shrugged. “I’ll figure it out.”

Calla had no doubt that he would.

“Is anyone else going to Ali Cho’s wedding next weekend?” Her mom cut through all the conversations.

“I was invited,” Willa said. “I declined. I have exams next week and I need to study.”

“We were,” Beth added. “But I’m still not decided. The invitation says no kids and I’m not sure what to do with Toby.”

Next to Calla, Toby’s head came up. “I’m not a kid. I’m getting my driver’s license in four years.”

Beth’s mouth twitched. “I know, darling. But you’re still considered a kid until you’re eighteen.”

“We’ll watch him,” Calla’s mom offered. “Sloan and I probably won’t be going.”

Beth wrinkled her nose. “I’m not overly sure I want to go. I only get two days out of the whole week to spend at home and I don’t want to waste it getting all dressed up.”

“What about you, Calla?” Willa asked. “You and Ali were sort of friends in school, right?”

Calla grimaced even as her shoulders moved in a shrug. “Sort of. We weren’t close, but yeah, I guess we were friends.”

“Did she send you an invitation?”

She had. It was sitting on Calla’s dining room table along with all her other mail.

“Yeah, she did.” She nudged a piece of chicken across her plate with the prongs of her fork. “But like I said, we weren’t that close so I’m not sure it would be right for me to go.”

“Jared’s going,” Willa declared. “You should go together.”

Calla shot her sister a hard glare. “I’m sure Jared will be taking Denise.” Which was all the more reason for Calla not to go.

“Actually…” Jared began and was cut off by Beth.

“Well, someone from this family has to go,” she decided evenly. “It would be rude if none of us show up.”

“Why can’t Damon go?” Calla offered, and earned a death glare from the guy that she returned with a grin. “You can take Bambi. She’s been dying to get you into her pants for years.”

The moment it left her mouth, Calla cringed. The look of hurt in her sister’s eyes tore her open with guilt

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I didn’t mean it…”

Willa shook her head. “It’s fine.” She mumbled to her plate. “You should go,” she said to Damon. “It might be fun.”

“The only way I’d go is if you were,” Damon said firmly. “And even that is iffy. You know I don’t like suits.”

Despite the gloom Calla had put into the younger girl’s eyes, Willa chuckled. “But you look really good in them.”

Damon pursed his mouth, but there was no impatience in his eyes when he said, “I look good in everything. That’s just beside the point.”

Willa’s laughter was less tense this time. It actually shimmered off the blue surface of her eyes like sunlight off a lake. But Damon was another matter. He shot Calla a pissed off glower when Willa wasn’t looking and Calla knew she’d hear about her slip up later.

Calla sighed and mentally shook her head.

It didn’t matter how hard she tried not to be that snide, malicious person she used to be, it still crept up on her from time to time and it drove her fucking nuts. Why the hell would Jared want that girl back?

“Oh, that reminds me.” Her mother turned to Sloan. “The lights in the storeroom are flickering again. Would you mind having a look when you have some time?”

Uncle Sloan rubbed his jaw and frowned thoughtfully. “Sounds like it could be the fuse. I have to work tomorrow, but maybe afterwards—”

“I can do it.” Jared waited until he had their attention before continuing. “I’m not on the clock tomorrow so it won’t be any trouble.”

“Thanks, Jared,” Uncle Sloan said before anyone else could speak. “I appreciate that.”

Jared inclined his head. “Not a problem, sir.”

The rest of the table went back to their conversation. But Calla didn’t notice. Her gaze had superglued itself to the man sitting across from her, the one slowly lifting his eyes until they were snared with hers. His expression was unreadable, but there was an almost triumphant glint in his silvery gaze that made her heart patter just a little faster.

Supper ended and Calla volunteered to do the dishes. It was the one chore she actually enjoyed doing. The running water, the methodical system, it was almost soothing. Everyone else ventured to the sitting room, except Damon and Willa, who took the opportunity to sneak off back up to Damon’s room. Willa had to leave before the sun rose the next morning if she were to make it back in time for her first classes, which meant they would see very little of her for the rest of the evening.  Logically, she should have left Sunday morning, but none of them ever did.

“Do you want help?” Beth set a stack of plates down onto the counter and turned to Calla.

Calla shook her head. “No thanks.”

The brunette hesitated as she wiped her hands on a dishrag. “Calla, about the things your mother and I said earlier…”

“It’s fine.” She turned to the other woman. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you guys. I’m sorry.”

“No.” Beth took a step forward and stopped. “We should be sorry. We raised you girls better than that and you were right, it was wrong of us to push you on a guy that was clearly taken.”

Feeling naked and exposed, Calla nodded in discomfort. “It’s fine.”

Beth crossed the space and pulled Calla into her arms. Her gentle hands stroked Calla’s back.

“We are so proud of you.”

Those six little undeserving words crushed her. They twisted like noodles around a fork and yanked until she could scarcely breathe. Her eyes burned with the pain and she had to squeeze them shut tight to keep the tears from escaping.

She quickly pulled away and hurried to the sink.

“I should get started.”

It was a struggle to keep her voice even and she quickly filled the silence with the rush of water. She watched Beth leave in the darkened window above the sink and relinquished the choked little breath she’d been holding on to. Her fingers trembled as she adjusted the temperature and went about sorting out the dishes.

She started by scraping the touched food into the compost. Then stacked all the plates in one row, the cups, silverware, and pots in another. She set them along the counter in an assembly line fashion from easiest to toughest. Then she went to work.

Lost in the routine, she almost jumped out of her skin when warm fingers brushed hers in the retrieval of the plate she was setting into the second sink to be rinsed. Her head jerked up, her eyes wide in surprise.

Jared met her stunned expression with an indecipherable one of his own. The plate was taken, doused under the running water and wiped dry. It was slid across the counter before he reached for the next one. After the third one, she turned back to the soapy water.

They worked in silence through the plates, cups, and most of the silverware.

“Mom said you were by the shop yesterday.”

He scrubbed dry the spoon in his hand, set it down with the others on the counter before answering, “I was.”

“Why?” She passed him a fork, careful not to let his fingers touch hers. “What happened to your date?”

“You know why and I ended it.”

Moistening her lips, Calla willed herself to turn her head in his direction. “You can’t do that anymore.”

He stopped drying to meet her gaze head on. “Why?”

Something dark and angry writhed inside her and she visibly blanched. “If you don’t know the answer to that, then you’re clearly not the man I thought you were.”

Snapping off the water, she walked away.

Chapter Four ~ Jared

Jared spent the rest of that night tossing and turning, mentally kicking and berating himself for being the biggest fucking idiot on the planet. Why hadn’t he told her he wasn’t with Denise anymore? Things might have turned out a whole lot differently if she wasn’t stuck with the impression that he was a two-timing asshole. Instead, he’d stood there like a tool, asking her why they couldn’t be together when she thought he was with someone else. Granted, he had told her he’d ended things. But maybe he should have worded it better.

With a groan, he heaved his weary body upright and swung his legs over the edge. The rough stubble along his jaw scratched his palm when he rubbed his hands over his face.

Way to screw up, dude, the voice in his head mocked.

“Fuck,” he muttered to himself.

Well, there was nothing else for it. He needed to fix it.

Jared woke up the next morning fueled by determination, and about six cups of coffee. He showered quickly and dressed in jeans and a sweater. He donned his boots, grabbed his tools, and set out to show Calla McClain that they were worth taking the risk. The roads were reasonably empty considering the time, but that probably had to do with the mountain of snow blanketing the town, making all roads nearly inaccessible. Those with trucks moved freely, but the rest were waiting for the tow trucks to unearth them.

Calla was the only one at the shop when he trudged out of his truck and ambled to the front door. She stood behind the counter, her head bent over a folder of papers. Her hair was down in a silky, curly wave around her shoulders. It framed her delicately set features and tangled with the hoops in her ears. The gold circles matched the dozen metal bracelets glinting on each wrist and the fine chain around her throat. She wore a red, silk blouse tucked into a body molding white pencil skirt that was cinched around the waist by a thick, black belt. She looked like a woman just waiting for a man to rumple her up. Damn if he wasn’t going to be that man.

Jared watched her a moment longer through the window before reaching for the door. The bell overhead jingled and Calla blinked and raised her head. Her eyes widened at the sight of him.

“Jared?”

He held up his toolkit. “I came to check the fuse box.”

Her scarlet red lips formed an O before she caught herself. “It’s in the back behind the…” She clamped her mouth shut and sighed through her nose. “I’ll show you.”

She moved with the grace and purpose of a dancer. The skirt gave very little room for hurried steps, but she hit the floor at a brisk pace. Ringlets of gold bounced over her shoulders and down her back with every step.

He followed quietly behind her, his gaze tracing the lithe curve of her back, the dip of her waist, and the delicious flare of her hips. He watched their sway and almost groaned at how easily he could picture his hands gripping them, holding them steady as he bent her forward, gouged his fingers into the supple flesh and drove into her.

“Jared?”

It took him a moment to realize they’d stopped and she was watching him watching her ass. His gaze flicked up to her face and found her eyes on him, her cheeks flushed and her lips slightly parted. Against the front of her blouse, her breasts strained with her uneven breaths. Her unsteady palms ran the line of her hips before clasping together in front of her. Her unsuccessful composure made him all the more ravenous with the need to violate every inch of her.

“Where?” His barely collected growl struck between them.

“Through there,” she whispered, motioning with a jerk of her pert chin towards a door tucked away behind a set of metal shelves.

That hadn’t been what he’d meant. He didn’t give a flying shit about the fucking fuse box. He’d wanted to know where she wanted him to take her first. But her response was enough to remind him that seducing Calla McClain was a marathon, not a race. He would have her. There was no doubt in his mind of that.

He’d never been to the back of the store before. Never had a reason. But he took a quick glance over the space and was almost amused to find it neatly organized and properly labeled. All the boxes were placed in neat columns by item. Skirts in one pile. Dresses in another. Tops in another. There were others, but he didn’t pay attention. He wandered around them, past a small sitting area housing a metal desk, a leather sofa, and a mini fridge and made his way to the shelves. The knob was cold in his grasp as he wrenched open the door to absolute darkness.

“The light switch is just inside the door,” Calla told him.

Setting down his tools, he reached blindly inside. His palm skimmed over cool plaster and nothing else.

“Just inside,” she said again.

When he continued to fumble, she stalked over, her black boots making a world of noise on the concrete floor. Then she was next to him. Her shoulder pressed into his chest as she reached past him. The back of her head brushed his chin and he instinctively lowered his face to the silky curls.

She smelled like apples and cinnamon and woman. It took all his restraint not to press into her and lick the stretch of skin between her neck and shoulder to see if she tasted as good as she smelled.

“I broke up with Denise.” His voice barely went above a whisper. His lips skimmed along silky strands of pale gold. “The night of the storm. I was going to tell you.”

The slender back cradled against his chest tensed at his declaration. Heavy curls shifted over the silky fabric of her blouse as she raised enormous blue eyes over her shoulder and locked them with his.

“Why?” She turned fully so they stood face to face, a mere breath-width away, so close that her scent continued to haunt him. “Why would you do that?”

Fingertips no longer under his control ghosted the line of her temple, brushing back the curl resting against her cheek and following the curve over a flushed cheek. Her lashes gave a flutter of longing and nearly slipped over her darkened eyes. Her head tipped an inch into his touch before she regained control. But her initial response nearly destroyed him.

“Because I couldn’t be with her when I was in love with you.” Calla sucked in a sharp breath, but he plowed on. “I know you said we had no chance, but you can’t possibly know that.”

“I do—”

“No,” he argued gently. “There’s no way unless you can see into the future.” He paused to search the uncertainty glowing behind her furrowed brows. “We deserve a chance, Calla.”

“Jared…” The quiet murmur of his name breezed between them in a pleading whisper that he ignored.

“I don’t want an answer right now,” he assured her. “This is me no longer playing by your rules, Cal. I want you. I need you. I’m going to have you. All of you.”

Her eyes shimmered with pain and tears and something buried deep beneath both. He wanted to think it was joy, but he couldn’t be sure. All he could focus on was the fear whitening her face, making her lipstick seem like blood on freshly fallen snow. Her terror cut at him, confused him. He started to reach for her, and maybe it was his imagination, but he could have sworn she leaned into the hand he outstretched.

“Jared—”

The bell at the front of the store jingled loudly, signaling the arrival of a customer. Calla didn’t move. She stayed frozen before him, watching him like he held the threads binding her life and at any moment he could destroy her.

“Go,” he murmured gently. “I’m not going anywhere.”

It was a promise that only heightened her unease. She left quickly.

Jared stayed, both hands fisted tight at his sides. He listened as Calla greeted the new arrival, listened to her sweet laughter and heard the sadness just beneath it. It amazed him how she could hold that wall up for so long when, under it all, he could see her slowly crushing to death. It infuriated him that she had a wall at all and hated the bastard that helped her build it. But that was going to change. It didn’t matter what he had to do.

He knelt next to his toolbox and reached inside for his flashlight. His fingers curled around the first item they touched and a hammer was drawn out. A soft chuckle escaped him at the symbolism; she might have a wall around her, but he had a damn hammer. He was going to smash that motherfucker to the ground.

Chapter Five ~ Calla

The snow kept everyone locked up inside for most of that day. It was no longer falling, but the sight of it caking the streets warded away drivers from venturing too far into town until the plows had gone by, which was taking forever. Calla cursed the pretty white stuff mounding in front of her store. Part of her knew she should head out there and at least shovel some of it off the sidewalk, but it was cold and she had a deep hatred for cold things.

“You need a new fuse box.” Breathtaking even in jeans and a sweater, Jared stepped out of the backroom, holding a small, black case no bigger than the palm of his hand. “These fuses all seem to be just fine, so it has to be the box.”

Calla sighed. “Might have to wait until spring then.” She waved a hand towards the front. “No one is coming until that snow is cleared away. Maybe I should just close up for the day.”

He walked to the glass doors and peered out. The pale morning light filtered through his hair and tinted the tips of his lashes a soft gold. His eyes became a soft, silvery white and seemed to glow. He checked his watch.

“Do you have a coffee machine here?”

Her eyebrows pulled together in confusion, but she nodded. “In the back.”

He raised his head and fixed her with his gaze. “Can you make a pot?”

She started to ask why, but he was fishing inside his pockets and a moment later, he had his cellphone pressed to his ear.

Bemused, but having nothing else to do anyway, Calla stepped into the back and went to the fold out table her mother had set up with all the necessities like coffee, a small dish of teabags, a coffee machine, and a plug in kettle. There were several mugs, spoons, and stir sticks as well as boxes of cookies, donuts, and cakes. Calla had a suspicion her mother thought they would be having tea parties there on their free time. Nevertheless, Calla was eternally grateful someone was feeding her sugar habit.

Jared was still standing by the door when Calla returned. His arms were folded and she took a moment to admire the beautiful workmanship of his back, the narrow taper of his waist, and finally that ass that drove her crazy.

“Coffee should be ready in five minutes,” she told him.

He checked his watch again. “That’s perfect.”

Frowning, she walked over to stand next to him. “Perfect for what?”

He said nothing. He didn’t need to. A moment later, a wave of snow was lifted off the street in an arc and plowed further down the street. A machine growled. A horn honked once and the figure inside the plow waved at them. Jared raised a hand and waved back. He didn’t lower his arm until the truck was out of sight. Then he turned to Calla.

“Do you have a shovel?”

Uncle Sloan had brought one over during the first snow fall and had left it against the backdoor. Jared grabbed it and returned, fully dressed in his jacket and gloves. Without a word to Calla, he stomped outside. She watched from the warmth of her store as he cleared a path all the way from one end of the block to the other, leaving a wide, clear path to that entire section.

He returned almost thirty minutes later, panting, face flushed from cold and sweat. He kicked the snow off his boots before stepping inside.

“There.” He propped the shovel against the side of the door to yank off his wool toque. “No reason for anyone not to show up now.”

Calla could only stare at him, no words enough to express just how thankful she was, or how touched.

“Oh.” From his other hand, the one he’d kept tucked behind his back, he withdrew a rose. A single rose just starting to bloom. “Found this,” he said when she accepted it, still speechless. “Thought you’d like it.”

Then he took the shovel, and himself, and disappeared into the back.

“My goodness it’s a nightmare out there.” Georgia May Hadley burst through the shop doors a little after three. Her floral perfume filed in after her, filling the whole room with its sickly sweetness. With daintily gloved hands, she brushed at the fur collar of her coat. “This is the only part of town anyone can get to.”

Calla bit back her grin. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Hadley. How are you today?”

Beautiful in a theatrical way, Georgia May wrinkled her elegant little nose. “Did you not just hear me? Awful.”

If there was anyone Calla truly despised, it was the woman standing in her shop. There was nothing good in her, nothing kind. She reminded Calla of those butterflies in the Amazon, beautiful, exotic, and a wonder to see, but poisonous and deadly to touch. Nevertheless, Georgia May was her biggest client and as much as she hated her…

“You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Georgia May inhaled, puffing out her voluminous breasts and twisting her head over the selection. “What new things have you got for me today?”

Georgia May was the trend setter of Willow Creek. Every woman wanted what she had, even if they hated her, and that made her a walking billboard for Calla. She made sure she kept her very best items in the back for the woman.

“Well, since you asked…” With a grin, Calla ushered her to the settee she kept tucked next to the trio of change cubicles. “Would you like anything to drink while I bring out a few items?”

Georgia May checked her diamond studded watch. “Perhaps a glass of champagne, but only one.”

Calla didn’t point out that it was only three in the afternoon. She smiled indulgently and hurried into the back.

There were two bottles in the mini fridge that she kept for women like Georgia May. The labels were expensive and her mother had almost fainted when Calla first got them, but Georgia May and her friends had more than paid for both and then some.

Their session didn’t end until well after six when Calla should have started closing shop. Georgia May was on her third glass of champagne and had bought everything Calla had shown her, plus several items off the floor. All in all, for a day that started out drab with the promise of no sales at all, Calla was satisfied with their final tally.

After making sure the woman could properly walk, never mind drive, Calla closed shop. She put the money from the till into the safe in the back, double checked that the coffee machine was off, grabbed her rose, set the alarm, and left.

The walkway and roads were still clear the next morning when Calla returned. There was a faint, light powder across the pavement, but nothing overwhelming like the day before. She let herself into the shop and had no sooner begun setting up for the day when the bell jingled and someone hurried in.

Calla glanced up from the float she was trying to shove back into the register and smiled. “Good morning, Mrs. Donnelly.”

Tiny with mousy brown hair, Caroline Donnelly always reminded Calla of a hawk with her pointed features and squinting brown eyes. She eyed Calla a full moment before bustling forward.

“You sold Georgia May Hadley a purse yesterday, silver with those thick buckles.”

Calla nodded, slamming the drawer shut on the register. “Yes.”

“I want something similar, but different.”

Of course she did. Caroline was Georgia May’s biggest rival. She wasn’t quite as powerful, or as wealthy, but Calla knew exactly how to play both.

“Hmm…” She pursed her lips and sighed. “Well, I only had the one of that kind and Mrs. Hadley bought it, but…” She cast a thoughtful glance over the store, already knowing what she needed, but making a big show of really having to think. “I do have something else—”

“What is it?” Caroline demanded at once. “Just show me.”

“Of course.”

Motioning the woman to follow, Calla led her to the wall of purses. She pulled down a shiny gold purse with braided gold handles and a thick buckle.

“I only have the two left,” Calla said, motioning to the black one still on the shelf. “Both are hand sewn so completely unique. There are several compartments—”

“I’ll take them!” the woman snapped like Calla’s attempt to sell her things was getting on her nerves. “I also need a dress for that girl’s wedding this weekend.”

“Cho?” Calla supplied, leading the woman towards the rack of dresses.

“Yes.” Caroline sighed. “If her father didn’t do business with my Harold, we could have been going to the city instead.”

Calla said nothing, but pulled out a few of the gowns for the woman’s appraisal. Caroline was still hemming and hawing between the red and the blue when the bell tinkled, signaling the arrival of a new customer.

“I’ll be with you in just a moment!” Calla called over her shoulder. “I think the blue one will look beautiful with your eyes,” she told Caroline, thrusting the sequined gown into the woman’s hands and ushering her towards the change booths.

She left her there and hurried to greet the newcomer only to find them gone. In their place was a single, red rose resting lightly on the counter. A silk ribbon was tied around the stem, matching the delicate petals. A note lay tucked beneath it.

Skirting the case, Calla flipped the folded piece of paper open and read the three little words scribbled inside.

Smile for me.

Her brows furrowed together in a swirl of amusement and confusion. She started to wonder if it was some joke when a small part of her urged her head up. Her gaze automatically jumped to the window, as though her senses already knew he would be there.

He stood propped against the side of the building. His arms were folded, and despite the cold, he seemed content to stand there all day until he got what he wanted. The sight of him, all bundled from head to toe, except a thin slit between the rim of his cap and the edge of his scarf, pulled on the corners of her lips. It was so ridiculous, his request, him standing there, peering back at her with those beautiful eyes, she couldn’t stop it.

She smiled. Like that wasn’t enough, her lips curled back over her teeth and she laughed softly. The fine lines around his eyes deepened, and though she couldn’t see it, she knew he was grinning back. Then he raised a gloved hand and gave her a two finger salute before turning on his heels and disappearing through the crowd.

Calla laughed again and gave a slight shake of her head. The sweet scent of the rose filled her senses, making her unusually lightheaded and giddy. She brought the delicate petals to her nose and bit her lip when another round of giggles threatened to burst free.

The man did not play fair.

The rest of the week was hell. Everyone in Willow Creek had been invited to Ali’s wedding and everyone needed an outfit. Libellule was nearly picked over clean by the time Friday rolled around. Calla didn’t mind. Not only because it kept her mind occupied, but because working meant another rose. Her apartment was filled with the scent of the ones she’d already received. They sat in a crystal vase on her bedroom windowsill. They were the first things she saw when she got up and the last when she went to bed. And each day, he added a new one to her collection.

It was wrong. She knew that. She knew she should tell him to stop, to let her go, but damn if a crazy part of her didn’t get excited by the gestures. It was always a thrill waiting to see where the next one would show up and what the note would say. Each one tugged a little tighter at the strings around her heart. They were always small things like how beautiful she looked that day, or he was thinking about her. They might not have been love sonnets and poetry, yet they never failed to make her chest hurt and her eyes well up.

But she knew it couldn’t last. If she wasn’t careful, he would find out what she’d done, what sort of person she was and he would hate her. He would never forgive her, and that thought killed her. She had nightmares about him turning away from her, his face a mask of disgust. She always woke up in a cold sweat, gasping and choking on tears. Yet every morning, she rolled out of bed anticipating the moment she would see him.

It was so wrong.

“What a week.” Her mother slid a hanger through the straps of a beautiful, burgundy gown. “At least we sold most of our inventory.”

Next to her, trying and failing to get her mind focused enough to write up an order form, Calla nodded.

“Have you decided if you’re going, or not?”

Abandoning the form, Calla straightened. She ran a hand back through her hair and sighed.

“I don’t know. I still don’t have anyone to go with and I’m not sure I’m in the mood to see two happy people getting married.” She glanced at her mother. “Are you and Uncle Sloan going?”

The other woman shook her head. “We don’t really know Ali, or her parents. It would be strange going. Plus I think she only asked us because you and Damon were in her class. Your dad and Beth aren’t going either.”

Calla snorted. “Yeah, I’m definitely not going. I’ll be the only person I know there.”

Her mom frowned. “I don’t think that’s possible. All your classmates will be there. Plus you know most everyone in town.”

“All the more reason not to go,” Calla decided. “I think I see enough of those people here at the shop.”

Her mother said nothing. They stood in silence as the hour shifted from late afternoon to night. It wasn’t until it was clear that no one else was coming that her mother pushed away from the counter and started towards the back.

“I think I’m going to head over to your dad’s place and see Beth for a few hours,” she said. “Then I want to spend some time with Sloan when he gets home.”

Calla didn’t stop her. As much as she loved her mother, being alone was exactly what she wanted just then. There was something uniquely depressing in the knowledge that everyone had someone to go home to, but her. Plus, there was only another hour before she had to close shop anyway.

But no sooner had her mother slipped out the door with a wave than it opened again and another figure, one her shop wasn’t equipped to cater to, stepped inside. The single breath she’d taken in preparation to greet the newcomer lodged in her chest. Her insides gave an unexpected quiver of excitement even before a large, gloved hand was raised to tug free the riot of sandy brown hair from beneath the toque.

Jared offered her a lopsided grin. “Hey.”

Calla had to emotionally brace herself before she could speak. “Hey.”

His clothes rustled in the silence as he crossed to stand on the other side of the counter. “Sorry I’m late.”

It took her a moment to flip through her memory database to remember if they had made plans at some point. She came up empty.

“You’re not,” she murmured. “I don’t close for another hour, so…”

He nodded slowly. His gaze dropped to the assortment of necklaces and earrings nestled amongst a bed of white satin. He stuffed his hat and gloves into his pockets and lightly settled just the tips of his fingers on the glass.

“I was hoping to come by earlier though,” he said. “Work ran a bit longer than we expected and I wanted to shower before I came to see you.”

She said nothing, not really sure what to say. Finally, she ran her tongue over the curve of her bottom lip.

“Did you need something?”

His eyes had focused on her mouth, even while she spoke. It seemed to take a lot of effort to tear his gaze away and fix them on hers.

“What are you doing tomorrow?”

Calla blinked. “Nothing,” she confessed. “I might open the shop for a few hours, but I don’t know if anyone will actually come. The wedding,” she explained in case he didn’t know.

“Yeah, the wedding,” he murmured. “So, you’re not going?”

“I didn’t really intend…” Her words trailed off as she realized where his line of questioning was going. Her stomach churned even as her heart fluttered. Her palms grew damp and she hastily wiped them on her skirt. “Jared—”

“Go with me,” he prompted, ignoring her weak protest. “I’ll pick you up at eight.”

“Jared…” She had to pause to get a handle on her thoughts as they scattered recklessly to the winds. “The wedding’s tomorrow. I’m not ready…”

“I’ve taken care of everything,” he promised. “Just say yes.”

She didn’t know what that meant, but her curiosity—and no small amount of longing—propelled her into nodding her head.

“Okay.”

Relief shimmered behind his eyes as he pulled down the zipper on his coat and removed the rose she hadn’t gotten that day. He set it gently on the glass between them, ribbon and note and all. His gaze never wavered from hers.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Calla.”

With that, he left her staring after him long after his silhouette disappeared down the block. Her attention went to the flower and a familiar surge of giddiness erupted through her, despite the weight stooping her shoulders. She reached for the note and gently opened the folds.

Go home.

She did. Between the cryptic note and his earlier comment, there was no way she was not going to follow his instructions.

Gathering her things, Calla did the quickest close in history and rushed home without crashing her car. She felt like a little kid Christmas morning. Her stupid key wouldn’t fit in the door fast enough and the door wouldn’t open quick enough. She staggered into her apartment lit only by the lamp she kept on in the sitting area. It cast a pale glow over her white sofas and the egg-shell white of her walls. The rest of the apartment remained concealed in shadows and a sort of anticipation writhed through her.

Her pumps hit the corner by the door as she darted further inside and kicked them off. The foyer opened straight against the carpet she’d laid over the hardwood and her bare feet sunk in its fluffy expense. Her purse, the rose, and her coat were slung onto the small, square table nestled between her kitchen and the sitting room.

It sat on her low, glass coffee table. The lamplight shone through the satin ribbon fastened precisely around its width. It glided the crimson length and seemed to catch on the corner of the note tucked neatly against the fat bow. Part of her wondered how he’d managed to get into her apartment without a key, while another part couldn’t get to the box fast enough.

Calla hurried forward and snatched up the note. She flipped it open.

Wear me. Underwear is optional.

“What?”

Laughing, Calla reached for the ribbons.

Chapter Six ~ Jared

His hands shook only slightly as he adjusted his tie. The bright, red slash set off the dark cut of his suit and the white of his dress shirt. Jared wasn’t usually a fan of dressing up. Jeans and t-shirts were his outfit of choice. But his mother had drummed the necessity of a well cut suit into him from a very young age and since then¸ he owned four. Each one had cost him a month’s worth of wages, but they each had a purpose.

There was the black one with the black, silk lapel that he wore to funerals. The black trousers and black blazer with the white dress shirt he wore to weddings. The gun metal gray he wore to special dinners and finally, the white one he planned on being buried in. Maybe it was strange thinking that far ahead, but seeing as he wouldn’t buy another suit for as long as he lived, it stood to good reason that it would eventually come in handy.

Coat on, phone tucked into his pocket, keys clutched in his palm, he left his apartment and made his way down to his truck. The night was cold, but it wasn’t snowing and he considered that a good sign. He kept the radio off, needing the silence to gather what was left of his courage and fasten it firmly to his chest. He double checked to make sure he had the bouquet of roses he planned on giving Calla lying in the seat next to him. The scent of them was strong and sweet through the cabin of his truck. The sight of their wide open petals reminded him of Calla’s mouth, red, soft, and beautiful. When he thought of her, a rose in full bloom was the image that came to mind. Like her, it was a sight to behold, but touch and you get pricked by thorns. At least, that was how he remembered her. Now she was a rose stripped of her barbs. Still a beauty, still breathtaking to regard, but without the thing that made it so strong. But he would give her back her thorns, no matter what he had to do.

Pulling up to Calla’s apartment, it surprised him that he was actually nervous. He hadn’t felt the anxious knot in his gut since he was a teenager and Damon dared him to ask Jackie Bowied to the winter formal. Jackie had said yes, but not before he’d nearly thrown up all over her shoes. Calla had already agreed to go with him and he was a grown man, being nervous was actually a little embarrassing. Nevertheless, his hand trembled when he reached out to knock.

The door opened almost immediately, like she’d been standing on the other side the whole time. The prospect that maybe she was as nervous as he was instantaneously evaporated the moment he took her in.

She was a goddess in a flowing black gown that shimmied down the luscious curve of her stunning silhouette like a glove. The whole thing clung to her in a way no scrap of fabric ever should and stayed in place solely by the grace of a single piece of string across one shoulder. The back … what fucking back? There was nothing but a stretch of smooth, pale skin to the flare of her hips. Her silky mane was twisted and curled and done up the way only women knew how with tiny, red rosebuds tucked into the blonde strands. Her lipstick was fierce, a blood-red that made a man think of sinning. Her eyes were smoky, deep and dark that emphasized the endless blue. Silver earrings brushed the bare stretch of skin at her shoulders and twinkled with every spark of light that cut across the metallic edges. A tennis bracelet glinted at her wrist that matched the diamond choker clasped about her slender throat.

“Jesus…”

His gaze wandered up the length of her again and again, forming a rut that never seemed to get old. He couldn’t stop looking at her. He couldn’t stop painting her in his mind. The front of his pants swelled and he prayed to god it was too dim in the corridor to notice.

“Jesus,” he breathed a second time, unable to think anything past the roar of lust swarming through him.

Calla chuckled, her cheeks pinkening beneath the subtle sweep of blush. “Thank you.” Tiny hands tipped with crimson nails skimmed the delicate fabric from waist to thighs and Jared almost groaned. “It’s a beautiful dress.”

“It’s not the dress.” He struggled to control the beast pacing inside him, the one urging him to claim what belonged to him be damned the consequences. “Christ, I can’t take you when you look like that.”

Her smile vanished. “What?”

He forced his gaze to cease their starving scrutiny and fix on her blue ones. “This town is not ready for you in that dress, baby.”

The blush deepened all the way to her brow. She laughed and the sound was pure magic rippling through the air.

“Then there is no one to blame but you,” she said, peering at him through thick, dusky lashes. “You chose it.”

He hummed softly in deliberation. “I swear it didn’t look that illegal on the mannequin.” He ran his tongue over his teeth. “Willow Creek is either going to thank me by the end of the night, or kill me.”

“Speaking of.” She narrowed her eyes. “How did you get into my apartment?”

“I have my ways,” he replied evenly.

She studied him a moment longer. “Either my mom or Beth gave you their key.”

Lily, actually, after Jared had explained the situation. But he had also sworn not to tell Calla anything.

“No idea what you’re talking about.” He straightened his shoulders. “Are you ready to go?”

Grinning in silent amusement, Calla nodded. “Yes.” Her gaze went to the bouquet in his arms. “Are those for me?”

He’d forgotten all about the roses getting crushed in his grasp. He offered them to her and watched as she gathered the bouquet to her chest and buried her face into the satiny blooms. Her eyes closed and she inhaled deeply. The paper crackled as she drew away.

“They’re so beautiful,” she murmured. “Thank you.”

Turning, she moved back into her apartment. Jared watched the shimmer of the fabric with every swish of her hips. He stayed in the doorway, not trusting himself not to gather her up into his arms and demand to know where the bedroom was. Every animalistic bone in his body prowled with the need to claim her, to strip her of her clothes and worship every inch of her. He could think of no better way to spend the night than to lose himself deep inside her.

“Ready?” She was back, coat on, a tiny clutch gripped between her fingers.

Jared could only nod and move back into the hallway. She locked up and took the arm he offered. Her nails were a harsh contrast to the dark material of his coat. He led her downstairs and paused at the apartment steps. He glanced down at the strappy black heels on her feet, then at the truck parked across the lot.

“Hang on,” was all the warning he gave her before bending at the waist and sweeping her up into his arms bridal-style.

Her yelp of surprise was followed by the tight band of her arms around his neck. Her laugh warmed the side of his face. She smelled soft and sweet, and he wondered if that scent dusted the full length of her.

At the truck, she yanked open the door and he gingerly set her down into the seat. He shut her in and hurried to his side. The cabin still held the lingering warmth of his arrival mingled with the fading fragrance of roses, but he still reached into the back and tugged out the blanket.

“I’m okay,” she assured him. “Thank you.”

He left the soft wool draped over the seat, just in case she changed her mind, and reversed out of the parking spot.

The drive was done in a near silence that was broken only by the roar of the engine and the grinding of snow under the tires. He wondered if he should turn the radio on, but opted against it, just in case she decided she had something to say. But she didn’t and they arrived at the church. Jared tried to get as close to the steps as possible before hopping out and circling around to her door. She thanked him and accepted the hand he offered to help her onto the pavement. Hers was tiny engulfed in his. Soft and too fragile. He almost hated to let it go.

“Would you like me to wait for you?” she asked, standing too close, close enough so she was forced to tilt her head far back to meet his gaze, close enough so their fronts just brushed.

“No.” He forced himself to relinquish his hold on her. “Get inside. I’ll be there in a minute.”

She hesitated. For a moment, he thought she would refuse. But her head gave the slightest nod and then she was turning away. He watched her climb all the way to the top and disappear inside before leaving to park the truck.

The church was filled with smiling and happy people. Most he knew by sight. Others took him a minute longer to place. But the only face he cared to find in the sea of faces was surrounded by a small flock of admirers.

Someone had taken her coat and the vultures had descended. Men of all ages leaned in far too close to admire the tiny blonde in their clutches. Jared wasn’t naturally a jealous person, but even he couldn’t stave off the sudden impulse to march over and punch someone in the mouth. Yet he resisted. Not because of some higher moral calling, but because he found it inexplicably amusing. Maybe it was arrogance, but he didn’t care if they looked. At the end of the night, Calla was his. She may not go home with him that night, but she would eventually. She would be a tangled, breathless, and sated mess in his arms and they would only have a memory of her while he would have all of her. He was fine with that, so long as they didn’t touch. He wasn’t sure how well his moral compass would hold up if they put their fingers on what was his.

“Jared?”

The familiar chuckle pulled him around to face the beaming brunette and the brooding man behind her.

“Mom.” He pulled the tiny woman into his arms. Then stepped back and offered his father his hand. “Dad. I didn’t know you guys would be here.”

“Your mother made me,” his father grumbled, not bothering to keep his voice low.

His mother swatted at him. “Stop it, Marvin. How often do we get to put on pretty clothes?”

His father pursed his mouth. “Too damn often the way people are getting married lately.”

His mother ignored him and faced Jared once more. “How are you, darling? We haven’t seen you in ages. You should really come by for dinner this weekend.”

“I go to the McClain’s on the weekend,” he reminded her kindly.

“Yes, but maybe one night,” she prodded. “You should bring that girl you’re seeing … Darcy.”

“Denise,” he corrected. “And we’re not together anymore.”

His mother’s round shoulders drooped. Her mouth drew into a pout.

“Oh no!” she cried. “That’s terrible. I was so hoping this would be the one.”

That was his mother’s wish with every girl Jared had ever dated.

“Willa was in town,” he said, hoping to distract the woman with a topic as equally important as her need for grandchildren; his mother adored Willa. Jared had a feeling that if Damon hadn’t staked such a huge claim on the pint-sized McClain, his mother would demand Jared propose and make her an official Dumont.

“Aw, how is Willa?” she asked, genuinely concerned. “Last time I saw her, she was this scrawny thing.”

Jared laughed. “She’s still a scrawny thing, but she’s fine.”

“And how’s Damon? He must miss her something awful.”

“Yes, he does.”

His mother made that love struck, sappy sigh expression women were so good at pulling off.

“They are just too adorable. Aren’t they adorable, Marvin?”

His father, who had been busy tugging at his tie, glowered. “Sickeningly so.”

His mother ignored him yet again. “Did you come alone? We have an extra spot and there’s someone I have been dying for you to—”

“I didn’t, actually,” Jared cut in before he found himself forced between his mother and some girl his mother thought would be perfect for him.

As if on cue, Calla appeared at his elbow. She smiled beautifully at his parents.

“Hello Mr. and Mrs. Dumont.” Her smile broadened. “You both look stunning tonight.”

His mother, catching the scent of prospect, immediately leaped on the opportunity to get her twenty-one year old son married and breeding.

“Calla! Oh, sweetheart, look at you!” She curled her fingers around Calla’s arms and dragged her forward so she stood in the middle of a triangle. “Ugh! I miss the days I could pull off wearing something like that. But goodness, you are a sight.”

Calla chuckled. “Thank you. Jared actually picked it out.”

His mother’s big, brown eyes blinked rapidly. “Did he now?” She glanced past Calla to study her son. “Well, that was certainly nice of him. I never realized what impeccable taste you had, darling.”

It had nothing to do with taste, Jared wanted to tell her. But then he’d have to explain that the motives behind his selection was solely for the purpose of seeing Calla in as little as possible. Somehow, as elated as his mother would be, Calla might not share her sentiments.

“I try,” was all he said.

Beaming, she went back to looking Calla over. “You are just gorgeous,” she said. “You better hold on to this one, sweetheart.”

Jared took Calla’s hand and tugged her into his side. “That’s the plan.”

Next to him, Calla shifted uncomfortably. “We should find our seats.”

After promising to find them at the reception, Jared guided Calla in the direction of their seats. But not before they heard his mother say, “They will make such beautiful babies! Don’t you think so, Marvin?”

“I’m really sorry about that.” Jared motioned Calla into the pew first. “My mom seems to think she’s going to die without grandchildren, just because all her friend’s kids are having babies.”

Calla shook her head, but at least she was grinning. “I get it. It’s fine.”

They sat in the stiff, cold bench and waited for everyone around them to do the same. Calla sat straight up and tense, like someone had forced a ruler against her spine. Jared wondered if that was because of the dress, or because she was still uneasy about his mother’s fawning.

“Okay?”

She grimaced and tilted her head to him. “I forgot to bring a shawl,” she said quietly. “The wood is cold.”

It was some relief it was the dress, because that he could fix.

Carefully, he slid his arm around her waist and dragged her comfortably into him so her bare back was cradled against his side. That also meant he had to support her weight and he sure didn’t mind that at all.

“Jared…” Her breathless whisper caressed every fine nerve-ending in his body, making him painfully aware of her heat, her scent, and the torturous closeness of her mouth mere inches from his. “People will get the wrong idea.”

It took all his willpower not to smudge her lipstick with a kiss that would definitely not be appropriate for church.

“What exactly is the wrong idea?” he wondered instead. “That I want you? That I want to kiss you and touch you and completely own every inch of you?” Her sharp little gasp tickled his mouth and chin, fueling him to continue. “Then they wouldn’t be very wrong, would they?”

The point of her pink tongue worked over the full fold of her bottom lip in a nervous glide that tugged at the pit of his stomach.

“Please don’t do this.”

The quiet plea ripped at his heart.

“Do what?”

Rather than answer him, her back rose against his shoulder and fell just as quickly. She lowered her gaze to the hand she had rested on his thigh to steady herself and quickly withdrew it, leaving a chill in her absence. She balled her fingers in her lap.

“There are things about me—”

The wedding march shattered the low hum of chatter and silence dropped like a brick over the room. Everyone rose in a rustle of clothes and shuffling feet and turned in the direction of the double doors. Jared kept Calla against him, her back nestled lovingly against his chest, and she never pulled away. Ali, in a shimmering gown of white lace and glitter, floated beautifully over a carpet of scattered rose petals. Her brown eyes were locked with the man waiting anxiously for her at the other end. Jared hadn’t been to many weddings, despite the number that actually took place in Willow Creek, but it never failed to amaze him how incredible women were. If men were in charge of weddings, it would be a BBQ in the wilderness while they fished. Maybe that was why that day was specifically about the bride. Lord knew how much blood, tears, and time went into putting together an event that was special, unique, and memorable.

The crowd sat once Ali had reached the podium. Jared tucked Calla into his side. His arm cradled her shoulders. Gingerly, almost absently, he skimmed the seam of her shoulder where the strap didn’t touch. The slope dipped down her arm. But he stayed at the top, running the same familiar path in slow glides. The longer he did it, the more relaxed she seemed to get, until she was a supple weight leaning into him. A very large part of him wished the wedding never ended.

Jared had never contemplated marriage. He knew he would eventually. But it wasn’t something he had ever felt inclined to rush into. Most of the women in his life had been brief. His longest relationship had lasted six months, and he couldn’t really blame any of that on his feelings for Calla. Not entirely.

When he first realized he was in love with Calla McClain, he’d been about fourteen and the whole situation had been confusing and painful. He had no idea how things had escalated from him teasingly stealing her sled to tumbling headlong down the side of the hill, but he’d lain there with the cold seeping through his jacket, staring up into her wide, panic-filled eyes in an absolute daze.

“Jared?”

“Yeah?”

“You okay?”

He’d paused to consider the question, to test his limbs and make sure everything was still attached to him.

“Yeah.”

Splintering pain had shot up his arm where her bony knuckles had gone through several layers of fabric to punch into his shoulder.

“You better not tell my mom, Dumont!”

Right then and there, he’d fallen hard for her, or as hard as a fifteen year old knew how to fall. But even at fifteen, Jared had had enough commonsense not to tell her. Calla wasn’t exactly known to be gentle when something pissed her off. Plus at that age, he was still trying to determine if liking girls was normal, or not.

But maybe it was Ali and Dan’s wedding, or having Calla back in his life, but the thought of marriage had becoming an almost frequent loop in his mind. Not that he wanted to rush off and marry Calla tomorrow. Well, he would in a heartbeat. But something told him she wouldn’t agree to it. Whatever she was hiding from was a wall of thorns between them and he knew he had to get through them before he could win the princess. It was a good thing he was a patient man, if not a determined one.

The wedding group was moved to the town hall, the only building large enough to hold a large gathering. It also doubled as their emergency shelter, banquet hall, and just about everything else a small town needed when large masses were involved. The entire place was done up in black and silver, the theme of the night. Once everyone was inside, the doors were shut and the lights dimmed to a dark gold that was accented by all the candles flickering in bowls of water on each round table. A wide space was fitted in the center with the guests circled around it. The wedding party was seated at a long table draped in white and black trimmed cloth at the very head, lifted up on a metal stage. Balloons and streamers hung off the rafters amongst a sea of tinfoil wrapped stars and speckles of light reflecting off the disco ball. Something jazzy played through the speakers that was muffled by the horde of voices and clumping footsteps as people rushed to find their seats.

Their table was at the very far, back corner, tucked in a pool of shadows. A few others were already there, looking uncomfortable and out of place. Calla took one look at them and burst out laughing. She laughed so long and hard, Jared had to hold her up against his chest when she began sinking to the ground. Her back trembled beneath his hands and her breath burned through the thin material of his dress shirt.

“What?” He chuckled into the top of her head.

Wheezing and painting, face flushed and eyes glistening, she lifted her head to his. “We’re at the single’s table,” she said between giggles. “They put us…” she said again, breathing hard. “At the single’s table. In the back corner. In the dark. A bunch of single, desperate people in a dark corner.”

It took him a second longer to get her implication, then he was laughing, too. The three at the table eyed them like they’d lost their minds.

“It’s an orgy waiting to happen,” he snorted into her ear.

Nodding, she visibly tried to pull herself together. “Exactly.”

Still grinning, she straightened. She smoothed her hands over her dress and turned towards the table. Jared reached the chair before she could and pulled it out for her. He waited until she was comfortably seated before nudging it closer to the edge. Then he sat himself.

“I did mark you as my plus one,” he told her.

Calla shrugged a bare shoulder. “That’s all right. With my luck, we’d get placed next to Georgia May. Then you’d have to bail me out of prison.”

A grin toyed with the corners of Jared’s mouth as he leaned over close. He propped an arm across the back of her chair and let his lips linger on the curls over her ear. Her intoxicating scent poured into him, momentarily making him forget what he was going to say.

“I’d never let that happen,” he assured her, letting his fingers lightly ghost the slope of her shoulder. “Even if I have to throw myself at the sheriff and give you a head start.”

Calla laughed, a long, throaty sound that had her head falling back and her whole body quivering. One hand went up to cover her mouth. The other flattened against her abdomen.

“Stop!” she scolded him, panting. “Everyone’s going to think we’re high, or something.”

Chuckling, he whispered, “I think our table mates already do.”

She peeked at the three trying not to look their way and broke out in another fit of giggles behind her fingers.

“You’re awful.” She lowered her hand and pinned him with eyes that continued to glitter, but were narrowed in feigned scrutiny. “Okay, so tell me what makes you think it’s okay to invite a girl to a wedding the day before the event?”

It was a struggle not to grimace.

“That is your fault,” he told her instead. “I was going to ask you the morning I checked your fuse box, but that would have given you five days to find reasons to change your mind. I figured if I waited until the last minute, I had a higher success rate.”

Her suspicion only seemed to blossom with his comment. “When did you put my name on the RSVP as your plus one?”

He did grimace this time. “Monday.”

“Well, someone was certainly confident.”

“Not confident exactly,” he mused. “Determined.”

She was about to respond when a shadow fell over them, distracting all further conversation as they glanced up. A man in his mid-thirties stood smiling hesitantly down at them. The wide patch of skin pushing back his hairline glistened under the light when he inclined his head.

“Sorry to bother you,” he said. “But there was an error in the seating arrangements.” He shifted aside to show them the two women standing behind him. “These seats are reserved, but if you will follow me, I’ll show you your table.”

Jared helped Calla out of her seat and kept a gentle hand on the small of her back while guiding them after the man. Most of the party had already found their seats so the task was done without having to dodge, or sidestep anyone. They reached the table and Jared wished they’d remained at the single’s table.

“Jared! Calla!” His mom beamed. “Isn’t this great? We’re sharing a table.”

Calla smiled. “Should be fun!”

Jared did not share her sentiments, but eased out her chair and seated himself next to her.

The reception started with a meal of steak or chicken and continued with the father/daughter dance that was interrupted by Dan cutting in. Finally they watched as the cake was cut and distributed. It seemed like ages before the floor was opened to dancing. Jared leapt at the opportunity.

“Dance with me.”

He didn’t give her the chance to refuse. He took her fingers and guided her from her chair to the dance floor already crowded by other couples. He dragged her into his arm, not caring that it was a fast song. His palm settled on the bare skin of her back and he was delighted by her husky moan. Against him, she trembled and he drew her closer.

“Why do you fight me when your body responds so eagerly to mine?” he murmured into the side of her face.

She didn’t answer. But the fingers around his shoulders tightened. He didn’t push her, content in just holding her.

The night became a blur of laughter, dancing, and drinking past both their limits. Calla loosened up with every flute of champagne, becoming a little more like the girl he knew, the one that acted first and dealt with the consequences second. Whatever was holding her back seemed to disappear and she came alive in his arms.

“I think I’m drunk!” she announced, swaying into him and nearly upending her drink.

Jared caught her to him. “I think so, too.”

“Is that proper?” she wondered. “Are you allowed to get drunk at a funeral?”

Jared laughed. “We’re at a wedding.”

Calla’s eyes bulged in horror. Her hand flew to her mouth. “Wedding! Oh my God! Do you think anyone heard me?”

He didn’t give a shit. He was utterly enthralled by her.

“Do you want to sit down?” he offered instead.

“No.” Her arms shot around his shoulders. Something shattered behind him and he had a feeling she’d lost her glass. “I want to dance. I haven’t been this free in ages and I just want to forget everything.” She peered up at him with those unfocused blue eyes. “Help me forget, Jared.”

Fuck it.

Maybe it was the alcohol clouding his thoughts, or the fact that he’d been dying to taste her since they were sixteen, but he kissed her. He kissed her like he was drowning and she was the only source of air available. He kissed her with all the madness, need, and desperation pounding through him like a marching band. And she moaned deliciously and melted into him. Her arms tightened and she staggered up onto her toes for more. Her breasts crushed into the plane of his chest, the nipples hard and prodding despite the layers of clothes between them. She tasted like champagne and the chocolate off the cake. His already over intoxicated brain went straight into the red zone, the point of no return.

“Stop!” He viciously pried his mouth off hers. “Stop or God help me, I’ll take you right here.”

Eyes a stormy blue of all the emotions roaring through him, she stared up at him with her cheeks flushed and her lips a wet, swollen mockery driving him to madness.

“I’m not easy,” she whispered, her voice a hoarse croak.

Jared wanted to laugh, but couldn’t find the sense. “Jesus, baby, there’s nothing easy about you.”

Her lashes slipped to half-masts and she peered longingly at his mouth. “I haven’t been this drunk since we were sixteen.”

“When I told you I loved you.”

He remembered that night perfectly. She’d been wild and beautiful in her lavender dress as they ran through the fields, a stream of her laughter following them through the night. They’d just finished putting mayo filled condoms in Georgia May’s mailbox and had nearly gotten caught. Damon and Willa had run in the opposite direction. Jared had followed Calla. He’d watched her run, her blonde hair like gold streamers flying out behind her. It was never clear what possessed him to do it, but he’d grabbed her, spun her around and kissed her, right there under a sky full of stars. She had tasted like Jack Daniels and cherry lip balm and smelled like chocolate.

“I love you, Calla McClain,” he’d told her.

She’d laughed that high tinkling laugh of hers. “Never took you for a sappy drunk, Dumont.”

He had started to tell her he wasn’t that drunk, but Damon and Willa had taken that moment to find them and the moment was lost. He’d gone to her house the next day, but without the liquid courage, the words had lodged in his throat. There was just no right time after that when she’d gone off to university.

“I didn’t believe you,” she whispered.

“I know.”

Sadness took over the fine contours of her face. “I sometimes wonder what would have happened if I had.”

“We can still find out,” he said.

She shook her head, her eyes a little too bright. “It’s too late.”

He cradled the side of her face. “Why do you say that?”

“I did something horrible.” Her voice was barely a whisper around her trembling lip. “I don’t deserve to be happy. I don’t deserve you.”

Anger flared through him. His hand slid to the back of her head and he pulled her mouth back to his.

“Let me be the judge of that.”

Chapter Seven ~ Calla

It was the agonizing pain that woke her the next morning. It was the violent drumming inside her skull and the taste of carpet in her mouth. The world was a sickening smear of white that burned the eyes and wrenched at the pit of her stomach where the cute, and very tasty, cucumber cups were making a comeback. Across her chest, a weight crushed her lungs. Another had settled over her thighs. She was pinned to the mattress by her own weakness.

Dear God, I swear never to drink again if you let me get through this without choking on my own vomit.

It was a promise she was almost certain she would keep, simply for the fact that she rarely ever drank, so in the scheme of things, it seemed like a safe bet. The previous night had been a unique situation captained by memories of days when she actually knew how to have fun, when it hadn’t been a chore.

For a moment, there was nothing but the grinding shrill of a cement chipper chiseling away at the cavity of her brain and her own miserable suffering. Then there was a grunt, a low, husky grunt that, any other time, would have been damn sexy. But in that moment, in her bed, it was so very out of place.

Calla’s eyes popped open. She stared at the ceiling, ignoring the screams of her eyelids and retina. It was incredible that even her eyelashes hurt. Yet that didn’t stop her from sliding her eyeballs ever so slightly to the left in hopes of catching a glimpse of her bedmate without looking directly at him.

As subtle as her movements were, her partner shifted. The pressure on her chest eased as the weight was lifted. Something long, hard, and unmistakable prodded her hip. And that was the last straw.

Calla wrenched free and gracelessly tumbled out of bed, taking the sheets with her.

“Get up!” she shrieked. “Whoever you are, get up and out of my bed!”

By the time she had shoved tendrils of lank, blonde hair out of her eyes and straightened the sheets securely around her aching body—not all the aches bad, she noted—her partner had flopped onto his stomach and lay sprawled across the mattress like he owned the whole damn bed.

He was naked and he was fucking hot from what she could make out. Everything from the taut globes of his behind, to the long, corded lengths of his legs and the enormous, muscular width of his back was designed to make a woman purr. The arms he’d bunched around her helpless pillow strained with unrestricted bulges and thick corded veins. The head nuzzled into her pillow was capped with a mop of neatly trimmed, sandy brown hair and there were claw marks, long, jagged welts along the back of his neck and down the entire span of his spine. There were even little half-moons gouged into his ass cheeks.

Dear God, she’d owned him, or he’d owned her. It was impossible to tell, because with the way her body was thrumming, like it had just run a very insane, very satisfying sex marathon, they had done some serious damage to each other.

“Okay.” Forcing a tongue over her suddenly dry lips, she shoved four fingers back through her tangled hair and ogled him a moment longer. “You need to leave. Like now. Before my husband gets home and beats the hell out of you.”

For several long seconds, there was nothing. Not even a twitch to indicate he hadn’t passed right out again. Then there was a sound like a snort, followed by a quiver that ran down the back she was watching. It took her alcohol violated brain a full minute to realize he was laughing.

“Husband?”

Long arms unwound from their death grip on her pillow and strained as they anchored into her mattress with bunched fists. The ropes along his back bunched and rolled as he heaved all that magnificent-ness onto one side. And Calla’s whole world dipped.

“You?”

Jared squinted at her through one eye not crusted with sleep. “Morning.”

Confusion had her voice rising several octaves. “What are you doing in my bed?”

“At the moment? Waiting for you to come back.”

It was tempting, especially when he was reclined on his side like that with his morning erection at full mast bobbing against his chiseled abdomen. The curls around the base were soft and the same sandy brown as the strands on his head. It led a fine, dark trail up his stomach to thin off just beneath his naval. The rest of him … God, the rest of him was a masterpiece. All sinewy muscle and toned definition. He was a work of edible art.

“Did we…?” Of course they had, multiple times if the soreness between her legs was anything to take into account. “Oh my God…”

Turning away, she began scavenging for her clothes, which were littered all over the bedroom like confetti at a wedding.

Fucking weddings!

“Get up!” she barked. “You need to…” She pitched him his trousers. “Get dressed and get out.”

“Calla…” He got a face full of his dress shirt. “Calla!” he said again, ripping the shirt off his head. “Stop for a minute.”

“No!” But she stopped and stood at the foot of the bed, breathing hard and trying her hardest not to burst into tears. “I can’t … I can’t believe I let this happen!”

“Baby.” He started towards her.

Calla jerked away. “You need to leave. Please!” Her voice hitched. “I can’t do this.”

She left him kneeling on her bed and bolted into the bathroom. She snapped the lock into place and slumped against the door. The tears came immediately in a steady river of all the pain suffocating her. She slid to the floor in a heap of limbs and fabric.

There was a thump on the other side, then the sound of something sliding down the length of the wood.

“I’m not going anywhere, Cal.” His voice was right near her head, like he was sitting just on the other side. “I’m not letting you shut me out. If that means sitting out here until you come out … well, that’s what I’m going to do. I don’t care how long it takes.”

She didn’t say anything. There was nothing to say. The void deep inside her had consumed everything but a dull, numbing cold that was slowly eating her alive. Not because she’d slept with Jared. God knew she’d wanted to do nothing else for the better part of a year. But because she’d let him get that close without ever telling him who the person he was sleeping with was.

“Do you remember when we were kids and you would drag us to the pond, even though your mom told us not to go there?”

Sniffling, Calla frowned across the short expense of her bathroom to the tub a mere three feet away.

Jared went on without an answer from her.

“Do you remember daring us to jump off the cliff into the water to see who was braver?” He chuckled softly. “Damon never fell for it and he never let you boss Willa into doing it, but me … I never told you this, but I am scared shitless of heights. I fucking hate them. But I followed you up that stupid cliff, going higher each time until I was sure I’d crap myself. I wasn’t trying to prove I was brave, or that I was better than a girl. I just didn’t want you to go up there alone. That’s how long I’ve loved you, Calla McClain.”

The air lodged in Calla’s chest, making it impossible to breathe around the sob that wrenched out. Most of it was muffled in her knees, but the rest filled the cramped space in broken gasps.

“I don’t know what you think you’ve done that was so bad, and maybe you won’t believe me, but there is nothing you could tell me that will change how I feel about you. I don’t think you understand how infinite my love is for you.”

It was unclear what possessed her to move. But her body scooted sideways into the cupboards under the sink and she wrenched open the bathroom door. It swung inward until there was nothing between her and the man on the other side.

He sat clad only in the trousers she’d thrown at him with his shoulder propped against the doorframe. His gray eyes lifted to her face, glinting with everything his words promised. They made her insides hurt.

Calla stayed in her huddled position against the cupboard, facing him. Her arms tightened around her raised knees and she pulled them closer to her chest.

“You shouldn’t say that,” she whispered when it was clear he had said his piece. “None of that. You…” She bit her lip and stared down at the tips of her red toes peeking out from beneath the sheets. “You can’t invest in me. I’m like an old car, all broken and rusted and … I’m not repairable.”

He shifted closer and stopped when he was directly in front of her with his knees inches from her toes. His head cocked to the side and he peered at her until she had no choice but to get lost in his eyes.

“Would you invest in me?”

Calla blinked. She stared at him for a full heartbeat before finding words to speak.

“It’s not the same—”

“Would you invest in me?” he repeated slowly, annunciating each word very carefully.

She started to shake her head. “Jared, it’s not—”

“Would you?” he demanded, leaving no room for anything but an answer.

“Yes!” she shot back. “But—”

He skimmed the side of her face with loving fingertips.

“Why?”

“But—”

“Calla!” He cupped her chin. “Answer me.”

“Because I love you!” she snapped at him. Instinctively, her teeth caught her bottom lip as the weight of her outburst hit her. But it was too late to take it back. She swallowed audibly. “I love you,” she repeated more quietly.

There was no surprise in his expression, just a sort of knowing that reflected in the softness of his eyes and the gentle curl of his lips.

“Would you still love me if it was my past?”

He didn’t understand. He thought it was so simple, so black and white when it was so complicated and blinding.

“Calla.” He brushed her cheek with the back of his fingers. “There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you. There is no problem I won’t help fix. Just tell me what it is.”

“No.” She twisted her face out of his touch. “I can’t.”

He sat back and crossed his legs. “You tell me not to get invested, but I already am. I’m invested in your smiles and in the sound of your laugh. I’m invested in your scent and the way you make the whole world a little brighter when you walk into a room. I’m invested in the future of us. Whatever happened before isn’t going to change that. The only thing I care about is you giving us a chance.”

She wanted it. God, she had never wanted anything more in her life. She wanted to grab hold of everything he was offering with both hands and never let go. She wanted to crawl into his lap and just spill it all onto his broad shoulders. She ached to tell him, to unburden the weight suffocating her. But the terror she felt at the thought of losing him made her insides coil.

“You don’t know what you’re asking,” she whispered. “There will always be a part of me, a dark, ugly part of me that I may never be able to give you. Not today. Maybe not ever. Can you live with that?”

He was back in her personal space. His hands were back on her face, cradling it between rough palms as though she were made of fine china. His eyes were pools of intense determination boring mercilessly into hers.

“You might not be ready today, or tomorrow, but when you are, I’ll be right here.”

He left her alone to shower. She spent most of that time standing beneath the spray, wondering if she’d done the right thing. While he swore it wouldn’t change his mind, she couldn’t help doubting it. Her secret wasn’t simple, or sweet. It was dark and twisted and painful in a way that broke her heart over and over again every time she thought about it. Another more sadistic part of her wondered if it mattered. She’d already experienced every inch of hell. Would losing Jared really make a dent in comparison? And she realized yes. Not having him was a whole different brand of agony. One she wasn’t wholly certain she could ever recover from.

But she would try. Maybe it was time. The wounds would never heal, but maybe giving herself this single ounce of pleasure would act like a balm and soothe some of the burn. Jared might not ever take that pain away, but she needed help moving forward.

He was standing in her kitchen when she emerged nearly thirty minutes later clad in black tights and an off the shoulder sweater in soft teal. The color brought out her eyes, not that that mattered now. He was dressed in his dress shirt and trousers. His feet were in his socks. He stood over her sink, peering out the window at the sidewalk below. She wondered what he was thinking. She wondered if he was regretting his decision. She wondered…

He turned around. His eyes landed on her, and without missing a beat, he crossed to her, slid a hand behind her head and drew her mouth to his.

The kiss was soul shattering. It rained through her in droplets of color so vivid, it was like living in the heart of a rainbow. He destroyed all her senses and rebuilt them, filled with only pieces him. She never honestly believed a kiss could steal and give so much all at the same time.

She broke it, gasping for breath.

His chest rose and fell in unsteady beats that flared his nostrils. He peered down at her with eyes that reminded her of an early afternoon thunderstorm. His mouth, moist and swollen from hers, swooped down for another kiss, fast and hard, stealing what little air she had drawn into her lungs.

A groan left her and it seemed to be the thing he was waiting for; he deepened his attacks. His tongue slid deep into the crevice of her mouth and skimmed along the roof and over the length of hers. His fingers fisted in her hair, dragging her head back until she was fully at his mercy. The tightening in her chest intensified until it was a ring of bells screaming in her ear.

He pulled away and she slumped in his arms, gasping and whimpering. His heart pounded against hers.

“Have breakfast with me.”

Calla laughed weakly into the front of his chest. “Was the kiss an incentive?”

He shook his head, his fingers gliding along the length of her spine. “The kiss was purely for pleasure.”

Marginally more steady, she lifted her head and peered up into his face. “I’d love breakfast.”

They bundled up. He took her hand and together, they left her apartment. The Sunday morning traffic followed them through town. It was just warm enough to make the stroll comfortable. But the wind still nipped at their cheeks and at the ends of their noses. Somewhere between Maple Way and Shamrock Road, he released her hand and slid his arm around her waist instead. She was tucked firmly into his side and she couldn’t bring herself to mind, because for the first time in over a year, she wasn’t pretending to be happy. She actually felt it. It was there, a warm, bright ball in the center of her chest. Whether the thing between them lasted, or not, and whether he ever learned about her past, or not, she had that moment and for once, she clung to it with sheer desperation. Even if the guilt was tearing her in two.

She just couldn’t win.

“Stop.” Jared’s lips skimmed her temple.

“What?” She didn’t dare look at him.

“Thinking.”

Calla laughed. “It’s not humanly possible not to think.”

He stopped walking and turned to her. “I could kiss you again.”

Just the thought of that kiss, or any kiss that involved his mouth on hers sent a wave of heat washing through her.

“I don’t think another kiss like that will go over well with the parents.”

“Mm,” he mused evenly. “But imagine how much the parents could learn.”

Shaking her head in amusement, Calla chuckled. “Come on. I’m hungry.”

Ma’s Diner was packed with the early morning rush. They just managed to snag the last booth when more people came in after them and had to turn away. Calla shrugged out of her coat and scarf and folded both into the leather bench next to her. Jared did the same.

“Maybe we should have eaten at home,” Calla said as they waited for their waitress.

Jared arched a brow. “I thought of that, until I opened your fridge and realized you didn’t eat there very often.”

Hot little fingers of embarrassment crept into her cheeks. “I usually grab something on my way to work,” she confessed. “Or I eat at my parents.”

“Yeah, I guessed as much.” He grinned lopsidedly at her. “You have one of the cleanest fridges I’ve ever seen.”

The flush deepened. “I’ve never used it,” she mumbled. “I mean, I think I did once … but I can’t remember what it was for.”

Jared laughed and the sound was beautiful, deep and rumbling. It sent shivers along her spine.

“Thank God I know how to cook then,” he said once he’d sobered. “Otherwise, we might starve to death.”

“Hey!” she protested with feigned outrage. “I know all the takeout numbers by heart, okay?”

Jared cocked an eyebrow. “Baby, Willow Creek doesn’t have takeout places.”

She pouted indignantly. “You’re missing the point entirely.”

Chuckling, he reached across the table and lightly brushed a lock of hair off her cheek. “And what exactly is your point?”

“That, uh…”

His amusement heightened when she could come up with nothing. He sat back and studied her, his unwavering focus daunting.

“Don’t judge me!” she mumbled. She folded her arms on the table and decided to change the topic. “Do you remember last night?” she asked.

He narrowed his eyes at her question. “I remember dancing. I remember kissing you. I remember…” He narrowed his eyes and squinted hard. “I remember parts of being inside you.”

“Jared!” Horrified, Calla glanced at the tables around them, praying to God none of them had heard him.

“What?” he retorted with a sort of innocence she didn’t buy for a minute. “It was mostly you moaning and gasping in my ear, begging me to go faster and—”

“Jesus!” She pitched her napkin at him. “Stop!”

Jared laughed. “Okay, okay!” he said when she glowered at him, struggling hard to restrain her grin. “I don’t remember much else.”

Calla shook her head. “How did we get to my place? Did we walk? How are my toes not frozen off?”

“Maybe I carried you?” he offered. “Or someone gave us a ride?”

“You don’t think we drove, do you?” she gasped.

It was his turn to rock his head from side to side. “My truck wasn’t in your parking area and I don’t have my keys.”

“Maybe you were robbed.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “And they were kind enough to take us home first?”

“Jared?”

“Hmm?”

“Dude, where’s your car?”

He flung her napkin back at her.

They were still laughing when a figure stepped up alongside their table. They sobered enough to glance up. Then Calla was really sober.

Denise smiled hesitantly down at them. “Hey!” She tapped her pen nervously on her notepad. “You two look … happy.”

“Hey Denise,” Jared said without missing a beat. “How are you today?”

Denise shrugged. “I’m all right. How about you two? I heard the good news this morning. It’s all over town. I guess congratulations are in order?”

Calla glanced at Jared and was relieved to see he was just as confused as she was.

“Congratulations on what?” he asked.

“What news?” Calla asked at the same time.

Thin eyebrows twitched in confusion. “Well, about you two getting married.”

There was a full second, a full heartbeat of silence where Calla wasn’t sure she’d heard correctly, or how to respond.

“What?” she finally got out.

“We’re not married,” Jared said simply. “Ali and Dan got married. I think you got the wrong couple, hon.”

Of course, Calla thought, her stomach settling down once more. Denise was confused. She probably had as much to drink as Calla and Jared had. That was what happened when a bunch of single folk were given free, unlimited drinks.

Denise continued to frown at them, visibly baffled. “Maybe…” She shrugged. “I guess I might have heard wrong.”

They gave their order and watched the brunette hurry away.

Neither spoke for several minutes. They watched the steady flow of people hurrying past the windows. Across the street, more people were on their way to church. Calla watched them and remembered being younger and being forced to attend. Her mom still made them go occasionally, but since they started spending the day together as a family, she was less forcible about it. But she still made them say grace before eating.

“Are you coming tonight?” She turned her attention to the man across from her and started to find him already watching her.

“I could be persuaded.”

Calla rolled her eyes, chuckling. “I meant to dinner.”

“Would you like me to?”

She hadn’t thought about it. Everything was happening so fast, yet at the same time, it all felt like an inevitable force she’d been waiting years to finally come around. She wasn’t sure what they would tell her parents, or Damon. They would have questions and she had no idea how to answer any of them. But Sunday dinners weren’t the same without him there.

“Yes.”

Jared nodded. “Then I’ll be there.”

The leather beneath him squeaked as he leaned forward and stretched one arm across the table. His fingers unfurled in offering. Gently, she settled her hand into his palm and watched as it was roped towards him and lifted to his mouth. The fine bristles shadowing his jaw tickled her skin. Over the ridges of her knuckles, he held her gaze.

“I have to find my truck keys,” he murmured against her skin, making her laugh a little breathlessly.

“And your truck, I hope.”

He lowered their joined hands and shrugged. “Yes, that would help. It’s probably still in the town hall parking lot.”

“We can go check after we eat,” she offered.

They didn’t have long to wait. Denise brought out their steaming plates of scrambled egg, sausages, and toast. She set them down next to two mugs of coffee. They ate in a comfortable silence, paid their check, and ventured back out into the brisk cold. Jared kept a firm grip on Calla’s hand as they picked their way over snow and ice towards the large, red building near the edge of town. It was one of the perks of living in such a small community, everything was within walking distance. Sure enough, Jared’s truck sat half buried beneath a mountain of snow. Calla was mainly relieved that they hadn’t driven in their intoxicated state. But it did raise the question of how they got to her apartment. Maybe they really did walk, which didn’t explain what happened to his keys, or how she hadn’t frozen her toes off.

Jared ambled to the driver’s side and entered the keyless entry code on the buttons built into the door. A click sounded through the air and he yanked the door open. Snow slid off the roof and nearly landed on his head as he ducked inside.

“No keys,” he said, peering around the steering wheel at the ignition.

“Do you have a spare?” she asked.

He nodded. “Yeah, at home.”

Calla frowned. “Do you have a spare for your apartment?”

His face bunched in a grimace. “My mom does.” He peered out at her as he climbed out and slammed the car door shut, his eyes pleading. “Come with me? If we’re quick, she might still be at church.”

Laughing, Calla took the hand he held out to her.

Janet Dumont wasn’t home. The neatly kempt two story colonial sat quiet amongst its surrounding neighbors. Jared led her around the side towards the backdoor where he unearthed a small key from beneath the mat. He eased it into the keyhole and let them inside.

“That key saved my hide a time or two when I was a teen sneaking out with you and Damon,” he said as they crept into a small mudroom. “Mom has no idea I know where it is.”

“Where’s your key?” she hissed in barely a whisper. “I feel like a criminal sneaking around in here.”

“Hey, I still have a room upstairs, so I kind of still live here.”

Nevertheless, he edged deeper through a set of French doors into a gleaming kitchen. Calla stayed by the door as he wandered his way to the very end, near an opening that she knew from memory led into the sitting area. He rifled through a few sets hanging off a wood plaque with a series of hooks drilled into the finish.

“Garage … boat … cabin…” His mumbles were interrupted by the jingle of metal as he flipped through them. “Ha!”

He plucked up a ring with only one key hanging off it and hurried back to her. Together, they left the Dumont residence and made their way to his apartment.

“You have an hour,” she told him as he let them in.

He went straight to the bathroom. A moment later, she heard the water run and wondered just how pervy it was of her to imagine him in there, soapy, wet and completely naked. Probably not a whole lot considering they’d practically devoured each other the night before. Plus, visions of him in the skin from earlier that morning hadn’t left her. She could still see that morning’s erection whenever she closed her eyes and a shiver of longing flowed through her. It had been a beautiful sight, one she almost regretted letting go to waste.

Nevertheless, she moved away from his minute foyer and shuffled deeper into the danger zone. His apartment was a place she had never visited before and it was oddly telling of the man he was; not overly fussy, casual, fun, and masculine. Everything was furnished in tan, or dark brown. There was only one sofa facing a flat screen TV mounted to the wall. There was an end table on one side with a lamp and a worn, leather armchair in the other. A scarred coffee table sat in the middle on a frayed area rug. The room didn’t give space for much more than that. Immediately behind the armchair and sofa were doors, one that led out onto a small terrace, the other led into the kitchen. Closer towards the main entryway was a short hallway in which Jared had disappeared down. She could just make out three doors and assumed one was his bedroom and the other a closet, while the third was the bathroom. On the walls were pictures of Jared with family, friends, and people she didn’t recognize doing everything from drinking on the sofa to fishing, hiking, and even partying. There were quite a few of Damon and Willa. The odd one of his parents. But they all had him grinning that lopsided grin of his. She liked that he was so open and carefree. Maybe that was why she was able to let herself go a little with him. While she hadn’t exactly agreed to go steady with him, it was nice to have someone else join her in the frozen tundra that had become her life. It wasn’t even certain things would ever progress between them. For all she knew, they could just wind up being friends. She would rather have him in her life in a small way, than in no way at all.

The bathroom door clicked in the silence. Calla turned in surprise; she hadn’t heard the water shut off. A moment later, Jared emerged, freshly showered and wearing nothing but a towel around lean hips. Beads of water glistened over the impressive width of his chest, the hard curves of his shoulders and trailed in rivulets of torture through the deep cuts of muscle stamped into his abdomen. Calla knew she was staring. She probably was even drooling. But that was twice in one day she’d seen him naked, or near naked, and she hadn’t had sex in over a year. The previous night, in her mind, partially didn’t count since she didn’t remember any of it.

While she wasn’t shy about taking what she wanted, that fine line she’d drawn into the sand was giving her a moment of pause. Having sex with him the night before while she’d been intoxicated was one thing, but that line was there for a reason, especially when she still wasn’t sure where they stood. True he wanted them to have a relationship, which sounded fine, but they hadn’t even gone on a date. What would it say about her if she marched over and tore the towel off him and begged him to take her?

“Have you decided?”

Calla blinked, momentarily panicked at the thought of having spoken her indecisions out loud. Her gaze flicked away from the rigid outline of his expanding erection tenting the front of the cloth to meet his focused and darkened eyes.

“What?”

The floorboards creaked beneath his large feet as he crossed the floor towards her. His progression was slow, almost taunting, like he was trying to give her the chance to flee before he took what he wanted. Calla didn’t move.

“Whether or not you want me inside you again.”

Well, fuck.

Despite the growing ache inside her, Calla chuckled. “If I said no?”

He stopped when there was an inch of space between them. “I’d call you a liar.”

That close, there was no ignoring the steady thrum of desire that pulsed at her clit and tightened her nipples. His scent drove into her, wild, hot and musky and she was powerless to resist her own needs.

She reached for him, her mind and body no longer in sync, and cradled the mouthwatering weight of his cock against her palm. Jared sucked in a breath that ruffled the hairs at the top of her head. His body tensed. The muscle in her grasp twitched and lengthened.

“I want him,” she breathed into the sharp point of his Adam’s apple. His skin was hot and damp from his shower. She licked a droplet of water that dripped down the length of his tight jawline. “I want him inside me.”

“Christ…”

Without a warning, his hands had torn apart her coat. The heavy material was shoved down her arms and pitched aside. Her sweater followed. Then she was shoved forcibly onto the sofa.

For a moment, he simply stood over her, a fierce god about to unleash his mighty wrath. His gray eyes were pits of hunger devouring the exposed skin of her torso covered only by a white bra. He took in her breasts, rising and falling quickly against the lacy cups. She started to reach for the clasps in front, but he shook his head.

“Don’t.”

Her hands fell back to her sides and she watched as he shifted forward and knelt on the ground between her parted legs. His hands were steady removing her boots, then reaching under her and dragging down the tight material of her pants.

“Hurry,” she whispered, helping him kick them free.

He ignored her. Instead, his mouth found the insides of her thighs. His hot, open mouthed kisses burned her skin. She moaned a curse and widened her knees, urging him higher. He didn’t disappoint. His face found the heart of all her agony and nuzzled. Calla gasped. Her hands clamped through his short locks. Her hips lifted.

But rather than continue, he followed a path up her mound, along her stomach to bury his face into her breasts. He sucked and nibbled the spongy mounds, while dragging her writhing body lower on the cushion. The snap on her bra was undone and the fabric sprung apart. Her breasts bounced free and were quickly taken into his mouth with greedy gusto. The other one was cupped, the nipple assaulted by his thumb.

Calla sobbed his name. Her hips wiggled, but the way he had her positioned, she was fully confined beneath him.

“Don’t rush me, woman,” he growled around her wet and beaded nipple. “I’ve waited too long for this not to enjoy it.”

“We’re going to be late for…” Her words broke off in a lusty cry of passion when his hand slid up her thigh and pushed past the elastic of her panties.

“There is nothing and no one but me and this hot, wet pussy,” he said, switching nipples.

She could think of nothing to say as two fingers worked into her opening. They glided in seamlessly to the knuckle. Her muscles rippled with greedy anticipation. She could feel herself brimming and quickly grabbed his wrist.

“No…” Her breathy whimper was tainted by her moan for more. “I want you inside me when I come.”

Jared raised his head and locked his gaze with hers. “I will be,” he vowed darkly, never once removing his fingers. “You’re so wet.”

Her response was a weak sob that quickly escalated into a louder wail when he dragged his fingers up the wall of her pussy to the swollen nerves just inside. He kept doing it, over and over again until she was a wreck of flailing limbs and ragged breaths. His free hand wrenched aside the wet strip of material covering her and his head disappeared between her seizing thighs. His mouth formed a hard suction around her clit and she a came. Hard. The world exploded in a blur of white noise and bursts of light. Her nails gouged into the back of his head, holding him to the pulsing muscle being ravaged by his lips. His fingers worked restlessly stealing every last shudder out of her before they pulled free.

Calla was still trying to catch her breath when her panties were torn off her. Her legs were pulled apart and he plunged inside her. The invasion sang through her with a fresh wave of bliss. Her sensitive walls took hold of his throbbing shaft and pulled him in deeper. One arm slipped beneath her and she was lifted to him. The other was propped into the back of the sofa just above her head.

“Don’t stop!” she panted, sinking her nails into the taut muscles of his ass. “God, I think I’m coming again, Jared!”

“Think?” he teased, driving into her again and again, faster and harder each time until she was seeing stars.

“Shit … shit! I am!”

His cock drove downward, angling every thrust to rake over her clit. The position propelled her straight into another orgasm that curled her toes and bowed her back. Her teeth tore into her lip as the pressure broke her into a million pieces.

Jared was still working inside her when her head stopped buzzing. His strokes were long and slow, seemingly in no hurry. He was watching her when she opened her eyes. Heat worked up her chest to fill her cheeks. An embarrassed, but severely satisfied grin pulled on her lips.

Gingerly, he pulled free of her sated body and pulled her to him until she had completely come off the sofa and was kneeling on the floor with him. He turned her over and bent her over the cushion wet with her release and warm from her body heat. His hands took her hips and lifted them to him. Then he was inside her again. A moan left her. One toned forearm rested just inches from her nose as he levied his weight over her back, pinning her down so she couldn’t move.

“Open,” he ordered into her ear.

Obediently, her knees parted and he cupped her heat. His fingers pried apart her moist lips and lazily began stroking her clit back to life. His hips pistoned inside her, but his movements weren’t as fluid.

“Come with me, Calla,” he whispered.

She did and was rewarded with a hot burst of his release mingling with hers. His heart slammed against her shoulder blade. His unsteady gasps echoed in her ear. He kept his cock buried inside her even after the last spurt of come had left him to stain her walls.

Calla felt amazing. Exhausted, but limber and incredible. She would have happily stayed there, face buried into the cushion, but he shifted, taking his warmth with him. His cock slipped free and they both groaned. Their combined juices trickled down her sprawled thighs to mark the floor between her knees.

“I’m ready for bed,” she grumbled into the suede fabric.

Jared chuckled. “Maybe afterwards, we can come back and pick up where we left off.”

He emphasized his promise by smoothing two fingers down the seam of her exposed pussy from ass to clit. He dipped into her opening, working the tight ring before rolling their juices over the rising bump.

Calla groaned and wiggled into the strokes. Her body was already prickling at the thought of another orgasm. Her slit clenched with excitement. More of his come dribbled out of her.

“We should go,” he taunted. “We wouldn’t want to be late.”

Calla forced herself to twist over, balanced on her toes with her back supported by the edge of the sofa to squat before him. It was what he was apparently waiting for, because the moment they were face to face, he had pushed himself between her raised knees. Her back was slid up the edge of the sofa and he was inside her, full, thick and hard.

“Jared!”

There was nothing slow, or patient about him this time. He held her down half on and half off the sofa and plowed into her with an almost angry vengeance. All Calla could do was raise her arms and use the sofa to push herself back down on him. His hold around her middle tightened and he lowered his head to ravage her nipples.

Calla came a fourth time. It wasn’t as strong as the first three, but it still plowed through her body in a shuddering currant of electric waves. A moment later, she felt him shudder above her and heat filled her channel. Limply, her arms slid down and her hands glided over the rugged expense of his heaving and sweaty back. The muscles rippled beneath her palms and she loved how well their bodies fit.

“We should stop,” he breathed into her throat. “Or we’ll never leave.”

Calla chuckled, running her hand up the back of his head. “Then you better tell your cock to behave.”

It was already hardening inside her and she couldn’t help wondering just how many rounds the guy could go. Not that she was complaining, but Jesus, they were going to fuck each other to death at this rate.

“I can’t get enough of you!” His snarl was followed by the vicious thrust of his hips. “Your pussy is so warm and tight. I don’t want to leave.”

They didn’t. It was only the sound of her phone going off in her pocket that finally pulled them apart. They had worked their way all over that sofa and Calla was pretty impressed by all the creative ways Jared managed to get inside her. But damn she was sore. Between the previous night and that morning, she would need a week to recover.

“God, we have to stop!” she gasped as he slid out of her. “I’m going to be walking like I spent the weekend riding bareback on a horse.”

Jared chuckled. “Well, there was a lot of riding and I am pretty bare.”

Laughing, Calla half crawled to her scattered clothes. Her fingers had just curled around her pants when his closed around her hips. She was dragged back and flipped onto her back across the hardwood. The coolness felt like heaven against her sweaty and burning skin. He climbed over her, his eyes glinting with a hunger she was quickly getting used to.

“Jared…”

Yet even with the tenderness of her body, she couldn’t stave off the ripple of desire that shot through her. She knew she wouldn’t stop him if he took her again. Part of her was pretty certain she was as addicted to him as he was with her. They could fuck nonstop for a week and she’d still want him.

He kissed her, deep and filled with so much love and passion that she lost all concept of anything else. He gathered her up close and continued to work her mouth into a swollen, tingling mess. When he drew back, she was a limp heap of limbs beneath him.

“I love you,” he whispered.

Calla felt herself smile. “Even if we never fuck again?”

His lips curled up into that grin that made her insides flop. “Even then, but I’m hoping that doesn’t happen, because we are damn good at it.”

Chuckling, she kissed him lightly. “I love you, too.”

She ignored the voice that wormed its way into the back of her mind, the one telling her she had no right to love anyone. But she wanted this. Wanted him. As wrong as it was, no matter how much she didn’t deserve it, she was selfish enough not to want to let it go.

“We should go,” she murmured. “Everyone’s probably waiting for us.”

“Ugh, if we must…”

Grumbling, he rose off her and gently helped her up to her feet. She gathered her clothes and half walked, half staggered into the bathroom to shower and dress. Jared joined her and out of respect for the environment and conserving water, she didn’t say no, nor did she push him away when his hands slid over her.

They were almost out the door when her phone chirped, reminding her she had a missed message. Jared was yanking on his coat when she fished the device out of her pocket and checked the screen.

“It was Damon,” she said.

“What’s he want?”

She scrolled to the message and read it out loud. “RU w/J?” She frowned. “I’m guessing J is you?”

Jared shrugged. “Unless you know another J.”

“I know a few,” she admitted and wrote back, “Yeah. Why?”

A moment passed before the new message came through.

“WTH did u guys do? Rents r pissed. Get here asap.”

She glanced at Jared. “What do you think that means?”

Jared shrugged. “Maybe they heard we spent the night together?”

“But why would that piss them off?” she wondered. “My mom and Beth have all but planned our wedding.” She nibbled on her lip. “Maybe we did something last night…” She groaned. “Shit.”

His hand rested lightly on the small of her back, as reassurance, but also to propel her towards the door.

“It’ll be okay.”

The drive to her father and Beth’s house was done in a tense silence. Neither one could figure out what they’d done to invoke the wrath of her parents. But Calla had a feeling it wasn’t going to be good. The last time Damon had sent her an asap, her parents had found out about the frogs she’d released from the science lab into the school pool during a big swim meet. It had been funny to watch at the time. Her parents hadn’t thought so.

“Okay, whatever it is, we stick together on it,” she told Jared as they exited the truck and started up the porch steps. “We’re adults. We can sleep with other adults if we want to. If it’s something else, we’ll figure it out as it comes.”

Jared agreed mutely.

Calla took hold of the doorknob.

“Ready?”

He cleared his throat. “Nope.”

“Me neither.”

She wrenched open the door and stepped into the foyer.

Chapter Eight ~ Jared

The problem with Cole and Beth’s house was that the front door immediately opened in a spot that everyone in both the dining room and sitting room could easily see who was walking in. There was no chance to brace for attack, or even attempt to creep in unnoticed.

The moment Calla opened the door, they were swarmed. Calla was torn away from Jared by her mother and dragged into the sitting room. Jared caught a fleeting, panicked glance from over her shoulder before she was gone. In her place, like avenging angels of death, he was left surrounded by Cole, Sloan, and Damon, and only the latter looked amused. A little too amused.

“Care to explain what you were thinking?” Cole snapped in a low snarl that left no room in Jared’s mind that he was on very thin ice.

“Well, sir…” he began carefully, deciding to tread on the side of caution. “What happened was that…” He darted a glance in his best friend’s direction, hoping for some assistance and was met with a grin and raised eyebrows. Bastard. He turned his attention back to the man who looked like he wanted nothing more than to dropkick Jared into the next world. “I really don’t know,” he confessed at last.

There was something uniquely disturbing about trying to find words to explain how Jared wound up naked in bed with the man’s daughter. While he had a full foot over Cole, and probably outweighed him by about twenty pounds, Jared had a good feeling he’d get his ass handed to him if the other man decided he wanted to beat Jared’s face in. Not because Jared couldn’t defend himself, but because he wouldn’t. Right or wrong, this was the father of the woman he loved. At the end of the day, she scared him more than Cole did.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Cole hissed. “How do you not know?”

He should just tell him, Jared thought. Calla was a grown woman. What they did in their personal time was no one’s business. Plus, it wasn’t as though it had been a one off. Jared had every intention of keeping her. Hell, he wouldn’t even fuss if Cole demanded he make an honest woman of his daughter. Jared would readily agree and be waiting at the church for her before the sun went down. Yet something told him the other man wouldn’t appreciate his honesty.

“Last night was a unique situation,” he explained slowly.

Cole stared at him like he couldn’t decide whether or not Jared was fucking with him. Thankfully, he never got the chance to respond when Calla’s irate exclamation broke through the house.

“What are you talking about?”

Jared’s gaze instinctively shot past the wall of testosterone to the open doorway where Calla’s voice continued to carry, but not as audibly. He shifted around Cole and started forward, needing to see what the matter was.

Lily was sitting on the sofa with Calla standing on one side and Beth on the other, facing off. Toby was sitting in the armchair, watching the match with wide, blue eyes. A bowl of chips was nestled in his lap and he wasn’t blinking. But he did glance up when Jared stepped into the room. His eyes glinted mischievously and he smirked.

“Dude!” was all he said and Jared got the feeling that this was about a whole lot more than simply spending the night together; surely they wouldn’t allow a twelve year old to be privy to that conversation.

“That’s crazy!” Calla’s choked outrage drew his attention back to the three across the room. Her cheeks were flushed and she had a look in her eyes that reminded him of a spooked rabbit. “Did everyone in town get stupid drunk last night, or something?”

“You can’t blame us for asking!” Lily protested. “Imagine how we felt when we heard the news.”

Calla folded her arms over her chest, not in a gesture of anger, but one of security. “Imagine how I feel that you guys would believe it.”

“What’s going on?” Jared moved deeper into the room.

Calla turned to him. There was relief in her eyes, but also uncertainty and it only fueled his apprehension. His gaze went to the other two watching him. Their expressions were a little easier to read, suspicion. It only further confirmed his theory that this had nothing to do with them having crazy, animal sex all night and most of the morning.

“Someone’s been telling the whole town that you and I got married last night,” Calla said tightly. She rounded accusing eyes on her mother. “And everyone believes it.”

Confusion mingled with disbelief broke a chuckle free.

“What?” He took another step closer.

It was Beth who answered, “Josie Coon made a big show of cornering me this morning at the grocery store to tell me how happy she was for our expanding family. I asked her what she meant and she gave me those big, vacant eyes and said, well, for little Calla getting married!” She paused in her mimicking to scoff and roll her eyes. “I hate that woman. Brainless twit.”

“And where did she hear that from?” Jared wondered.

“Let me guess.” Calla put up a hand before anyone could respond. “Georgia May.”

Beth shrugged. “I didn’t ask. I didn’t get the chance to when three more women congratulated me in the produce aisle. At that point, I figured it wasn’t a practical joke.”

“And you didn’t think that was completely crazy?” Calla shot back. “Jared and I haven’t even gone out on a first date, never mind running off and getting married. When … how would we even do that? It’s insane.”

“I don’t know,” Beth answered honestly. “I just know that for some reason, this town thinks you two got married.”

“Well, we didn’t,” Calla said shortly. She glanced towards Jared. “Tell them.”

All eyes went to him. He could feel their prickling anticipation for him to confirm he hadn’t inadvertently done the unthinkable. Part of him wondered if they would be more accepting of the crazy, animal sex, but opted not to bring that up. But it didn’t matter now. There was a more pressing matter splayed out before him.

He honestly couldn’t remember much of the previous night. Most of the images that flashed through his mind when he tried to think about it were of him holding Calla, of them laughing as the world spun around them. There was a vague image of them throwing shots back at the bar with the groom’s men, lots of dancing. Others had been equally drunk. After the bride and groom had departed for their honeymoon and the older couples had gone, the younger crowd had stayed to keep partying. The music had changed from jazz to heavy, bass filled pounding. The lights had been dimmed to sparks of light from the disco ball. The tables had been cleared away and it was just drinking, laughing, and dancing.

Jared wasn’t normally a drinker. He had the odd beer after work, or at dinner, but he kept most of his alcohol consumption to a minimal. That night had been a unique situation. Calla’s unapologetic release of her inhibitions had been the fuel for his own release. While he had no reserves about partying and partying hard, seeing her throw away the dark shroud she so often carried had been elating. That alone had been a cause for celebration. So when the bartender requested the keys to his truck, he’d readily handed them over, because he hadn’t wanted the night to end.

“Jared?”

Jared blinked out of his thoughts and focused on Calla’s face, on her furrowed brows and full mouth.

“I know where my keys are.”

Her frown only deepened. “What?”

He realized that hadn’t been her earlier request, nor was it the answer she’d been expecting.

He cleared his throat. “Not important.”

Calla shook her head. “Tell them we’re not married.”

“I honestly can’t think how it would be possible,” he said at last. “Willow Creek isn’t exactly known for its many quickie-wedding chapels.”

Relief flickered across Calla’s face. Her shoulders relaxed and she turned to her mother.

“See? Not married.”

Beth pursed her lips and gave a slow shake of her head. “I would still like to know why everyone thinks you are. It seems like a very strange rumor for someone to start for no reason.”

No sooner had she spoken when the doorbell chimed through the house. Everyone seemed to freeze and dart curious glances around as though counting to make sure everyone was present. Cole left to answer and all eyes watched as the door opened.

“Janet. Marvin.” He stepped back to allow Jared’s parents into the foyer. “I think I know why you’re here.”

Jared’s mom was in a frenzy. Her brown eyes went right past Cole to fix on her son.

“Is it true?” She barreled forward. “Everyone in town is talking about it.”

“We’re not married,” Jared assured her. “I don’t know where everyone got their information, but—”

“Reverend Peters said so!” his mother exclaimed. “Right there in front of the whole congregation. He said a prayer for your happy and healthy future together as husband and wife. I was mortified, Jared. Mortified! Can you imagine sitting there and being the last one to find out your only son is married and never told you?”

“But, Mom—”

“Rev … Reverend Peters?” Calla hurried around the coffee table to stand at Jared’s side so they were both looking at his mother. “He said that? Why would he say that?”

His mother blinked. “Because he married you, which I am just … if he wasn’t a holy man, I would tell him off for doing. Then of course Mabel Darnell comes over, all smug and you know how she likes to rub it in my face that—”

“Mom, focus.” Jared took her gently by the arms. “What did Reverend Peters say exactly?”

“What I just said!” she retorted sharply. “We were saying prayers for the soldiers overseas and those who were sick and your names came up. I just about fell out of my seat.”

“We’re not married!” Calla retorted, her voice just a tinge above hysterical. “It’s not possible. There are steps and procedures and … we’re not in Vegas! We’re in Willow Creek for god sakes.”

“How do you not remember getting married?” Cheeks stuffed with potato chips, Toby looked from Jared to Calla. “I mean, were you wasted?”

“Toby!” Beth hissed.

“I’m just saying,” the boy said evenly. “How drunk were you that you don’t remember tying the knot?”

“Stop helping!” Calla snapped at him.

“But he makes a good point,” Cole said. “If you tell me you remember all of last night, then this is clearly a mistake and we can rectify it.”

Calla’s gaze dropped to her feet, blowing their credibility without words. Jared tried not to avert his eyes, but even he couldn’t hold the other man’s gaze without flinching.

“All right…” Lily rose to her feet. “Well, how much of last night do you remember?”

“Not a whole lot,” Jared confessed. “We woke up this morning—”

“Whoa! Wait.” Cole folded his arms and stared hard at Jared. “What exactly do you mean we woke up this morning? Like, you woke up together this morning? Dressed and in separate beds, right?”

“Dad!”

Cole ignored Calla’s mortified squeak. His gaze was already moving over their still damp hair and the wrinkles in Calla’s clothes. Jared was debating his chances of making it to the front door when those scrutinizing blue eyes fixed on him. His nostrils flared.

Shit.

“Did you—?”

“Cole.” Sloan took his brother’s arm when Cole took a step towards Jared. “One problem at a time.”

From the armchair, Toby snickered and continued nibbling on chips. No one paid him any attention. But Damon ambled over to perch on the armrest and share the snack.

“We’re going to have words, Dumont,” Cole vowed in the scariest voice Jared had ever heard.

“Jesus, Dad!” Calla dropped her bright, red face into her hands.

Jared started to reach for her, but opted not to risk losing a limb when Cole’s face warned him not to even think about it.

“It’s not that we wouldn’t be happy to have you marry our Calla,” Lily intervened gently. “It’s just the shock of being the last ones to hear about it that upset us most.”

“That’s not the only thing,” Cole grumbled.

“We’re not married,” Calla stated firmly, her voice still taut with her embarrassment. “There are steps to getting married, paperwork and … I don’t know what else, but we didn’t do any of that. Reverend Peters has clearly gotten into the communion wine.”

“Calla!” Lily hissed disapprovingly.

“Well, there is one way to find out for sure,” Beth cut in with a heavy sigh. “I’m going to phone the Reverend. If he did in fact marry you, then he will know what happened.”

It was the best option they had, possibly their only one. No one stopped her when she hurried to the end table and snatched up the receiver. The dial tone filled the room, followed by the loud beep of numbers being struck. Then they stood in silence as it rang. Several tense seconds chimed by before there was a click and Reverend Peter’s croaky voice erupted from the plastic.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Reverend Peters? It’s Beth McClain.”

There was a moment of pause where the Reverend seemed to be trying to put the name to a face.

“Yes, hello. How are you?”

Jared hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath until the Reverend spoke.

“We’re all great,” Beth replied. “The whole family’s here.”

“Excellent! That is excellent. Although, I am disappointed that no one came to service this morning.”

Some of Beth’s smile dimmed to a pained grimace. “We will try our best to be there next Sunday.”

“I look forward to seeing you.” There was a pause before he started speaking again. “What can I do for you, Beth?”

“Well, Calla and Jared are here and—”

“Ah!” the Reverend said as though it all finally made sense. “Yes, they seem to be a very popular subject today. Not very often I have couples eloping in the dead of night.”

Beth looked to Jared and Calla, her expression almost apologetic. “So, it’s true then?”

Reverend Peters made a contemplative sound. “Yes, very. Mayor Wilks was present as well to preside. It was all very official, if not uncommon. I asked if this was what they wanted and they were both quite adamant. Mayor Wilks produced the license and both parties signed it. Mrs. Fowler stood as witness.”

“We were drunk!” Calla seemed to burst with the strain of holding her tongue. “How could you not notice we weren’t in the right frame of mind?”

The Reverend seemed to pause.

“Calla?”

“We were drunk!” she said again, louder. “Three people and not one of you noticed?”

“Calla!” Lily scolded without heat.

The Reverend considered this before speaking again. “I assure you, you were both very lucid when you found me. Mayor Wilks and Mrs. Fowler will vouch to it. Had I believed you incapable of making the proper decision, I can promise we would not be having this conversation. Mayor Wilks even questioned you both thoroughly beforehand.”

“That doesn’t … we don’t remember any of that!” Calla cried.

“Well, I’m sorry, my dear. But it was all quite legal.”

“Has the license been mailed yet?” Cole interrupted. “If you, or Mayor Wilks still have—”

“Marriage is not only a commitment between a man and a woman, Mr. McClain.” There was a frigid under current in the statement. “It is a commitment to God. It is not a game, or something anyone should walk into lightly.”

“We understand, Reverend,” Lily said quickly. “It’s just the news has taken us all by surprise.”

When Reverend Peters spoke again, his tone was much gentler. “Understandable. One of the questions Mayor Wilks asked was if they were sure they wanted to do this without their family and friends present. They agreed they did. As for the license, I can’t be sure, but Mayor Wilks might have already sent it out in the mail. You would have to ask him. But even then, a marriage cannot be voided simply by the shredding of paper. Aside from the legal aspect that I would think you would know something about, Mr. McClain, I would need to absolve the union through the church. But be sure this is the path you wish to take, Calla. I will not have the church’s name, or the sacrament of marriage made a mockery of. There is a reason you chose Jared as your husband, and it wasn’t alcohol. Think on it and I am here should you require my council.”

“Reverend?” Jared cut in before Beth could disconnect the line. “You wouldn’t happen to know how we got home, would you? My truck was still at town hall this morning.”

“I don’t. I’m sorry.”

Beth thanked the Reverend and quietly disconnected the line.

“Oh my God.”

Calla sunk down on the coffee table. Her hands covered her mouth. The look of numb horror propelled Jared’s hands to her shoulders. He was relieved when she didn’t pull away.

She turned her head slightly to peer around Jared to where her father stood. “Is any of this even legal?”

Cole sighed. “Sounds like it. It’s like getting married in Vegas. They’re allowed to deny you the right to get married, but all you really need is the marriage license from the courthouse, which in this case, you can get from our town mayor.”

“But … we were drunk,” Calla repeated with a hitch in her voice. Her watery blue eyes rose up and met Jared’s. “Do you remember any of it?”

He shook his head slowly. “No.”

“Only in Willow Creek is something like this acceptable.” She made a sound between a laugh and a groan. “I can’t believe I just had the shittiest wedding in history and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“Calla, sweetie.” Lily scooted down the length of the sofa to take Calla’s hands in hers. “It’s going to be all right.”

“No, it’s not!” She pulled out of her mother’s grip and shot to her feet. “The whole town must think I’m some brain dead idiot who got herself stupid wasted and married some random guy at someone else’s wedding.” She scrubbed her face with her hands. “No one is ever going to take me seriously after this. My reputation … the shop…”

“The shop will survive and so will your reputation,” Lily soothed.

“And I’m not some random guy,” Jared muttered, a little more than hurt by the label. “You didn’t pick me up from some bar, or street corner.”

The dark shadows in her eyes when she turned to him stilled whatever anger was welling up inside him.

“This isn’t how normal relationships go. There is a process for a reason. Reverend Peters is right. Marriage is a sacred thing done between two people who love each other and have thought long and hard about making such a drastic commitment.”

“I do love you,” he murmured. “And I have thought about it a long damn time.”

The room dropped to a loud hush at Jared’s quiet declaration. He could feel the eyes boring into him, but all he cared about was the woman watching him like his every word was tearing her up inside.

“I know it wasn’t conventional, or done the way you deserve, but no, I’m not sorry and no, I don’t want to change it and yes, I’ve always known it would be you.”

For several long heartbeats, Calla said nothing. Her eyes held his as though searching for that single flicker of doubt that he knew she would never find. Her uncertainty was a thick blanket smothering the room. Everyone seemed to be holding their breath, waiting for her to say something, or do something.

“You’re serious.” It wasn’t a question. Merely a shaky, stunned fact.

“Dead serious.”

“You don’t know me,” she whispered. “We haven’t even been on one date. This is all happening too fast.”

Jared rolled his shoulders in a shrug. “Then we’ll date. No one says we have to buy a house tomorrow and have kids. We’ll take it one day at a time.”

She was visibly trembling and he hated that he was the reason for it. It took all his resolve not to reach for her, to not draw her into him and protect her from everything.

“And if it doesn’t work?”

“We’re both very stubborn people,” he pointed out evenly. “We make it work.” She started to shake her head. “You say I don’t know you, then give me a chance to.”

“You’re crazy,” she whispered with no heat.

Jared chuckled. “I’ve been called worse … by you, actually.”

Despite the worry bright in her eyes, Calla chuckled. It sounded wet, but thankfully she wasn’t crying. He didn’t think he could stand it if he wound up making her cry twice in one day.

“So, what’s the plan?” Lily asked her daughter. “Are we going to town hall tomorrow?”

Calla continued to study Jared, her teeth anxiously nibbling on the inside of her lips. Jared held her gaze, trying to appear confident while his insides mashed together like warring bulls.

“No,” she murmured, and before his insides could drop out from under him, she turned to her mother. “No town hall.”

There was no helping it, despite all his bravado, Jared sagged slightly in relief. His head dropped forward with his deep exhalation. There was excited chatter, the sound of his mother’s excited exclamation, but he couldn’t seem to wrap his head around anything, except that she’d agreed to stay with him.

Someone rapped him on the back.

“About time, man.” Damon dropped down next to him on the sofa; Jared hadn’t even realized he’d sat down. “Oh, and Willa says congratulations. She’s really happy for you guys. She also wants me to tell you that it took you long enough.”

Jared raised his head and peered at his best friend. “How long have you guys known?”

Damon rolled his blue eyes. “Oh, who knows? Willa noticed it first. She always said watching you every time Calla walked into the room was like watching a porno.”

Jared elbowed him. “That’s pretty gross.”

“Right?”

“I meant the part about Willa knowing what a porno is.”

It was Damon’s turn to jab an elbow into Jared’s ribs.

“Does this mean you’re going to finally man up and make an honest woman of Willa?” Jared went on.

The other man lowered his blue eyes to the worn carpet beneath their feet. “It’s complicated.”

Jared ran it through his head, now oddly filled with clarity. “How?”

“It just is,” Damon muttered, shifting his weight forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “Willa’s not like other girls. I can’t just ask her.”

Their shoulders bumped when Jared followed his friend’s posture. “Just how long are you going to wait for her to be ready? She’s nineteen and in university.”

Damon turned his head. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Well, there are other men there, closer and available when she gets lonely.” Jared shrugged. “It only takes one.”

The silence that worked between them seemed to stretch on for hours. Damon never answered and never got to when a shadow fell over them. They both glanced up to find Cole looming over Jared, eyes narrowed.

Jared got quickly to his feet. “Sir, this wasn’t how I wanted it to happen, but I love your daughter and I’ll do my best to make her happy.”

Cole continued to eye him a moment before speaking. “Take a walk with me.”

Having a feeling this was where he’d be told he wasn’t good enough for his little girl, Jared braced himself and followed from the room. They wound up going through the kitchen and out into the backyard. Jared stuffed his hands into his coat pockets and ducked his face into the collar as they made their way down the familiar path across the yard.

“I remember you and Damon raising all kinds of hell out there,” Cole murmured, expelling a cloud of breath into the early afternoon. “You, Damon, Willa, and Calla. The four of you were a nightmare.”

Jared grinned into the back of his zipper, but said nothing.

Cole stopped when they reached the fence. It was as far away from the house as one could get without jumping the chain links.

“I’m going to be straight up with you, Jar.” Cole fixed him with those cool, blue eyes. “I don’t think you’re good enough for my girl.”

Jared said nothing, nor did he break his eye contact with the man.

“She’s my little girl,” Cole went on. “I was there for every one of her moments, her first steps, her first word, her first tooth. I was there through every fever, every broken bone, every temper tantrum and joy. I watched her grow from a bratty child, to a sullen teenager, to a beautiful, successful, and brilliant woman. I helped make that happen.”

Again, Jared nodded. “Yes sir.”

Cole continued to glare at him. “Do you know that at this stage in a man’s life, when his children are all grown and he’s sent them off into the world to make something of themselves, there are only two remaining big moments he can look forward to? His child finding love, getting married, and having a family of their own.”

Jared bit back the urge to say that was three things.

“You took that away from me,” Cole said. “I will never know how it feels to walk my little girl down the aisle. I will never be able to give her away. And I blame you.”

Jared didn’t know what to say, so he remained silent.

“Because of that, you are not the man for her, not until that wrong has been righted, do you understand me?”

He didn’t, but he nodded.

Satisfied, Cole nodded as well. “Good.” He propped a shoulder against the fence. “Now, tell me what you plan to do to make my girl happy.”

“Honestly?” Jared sighed. “I have no idea. But I do know that I’ll never make her cry, not if I can help it. I’ll be there for her, whether she needs me, or not. I’ll care for her, protect her, and love her with everything I’m capable of.” He paused to catch his breath. “I’m not saying I won’t screw up, because I know I will, but I was raised to treat women with respect and to man up when I know I fucked up. I might not be able to give her everything she deserves, but I’ll sure as hell try, and I’ll love her until my dying breath.”

Cole said nothing for so long, Jared wondered if the other man had frozen to the spot.

“That’s not the girl I sent off to school,” he said at last. “I don’t know what it was, but something’s changed in her. She’s lost her fire.”

“I know.”

Cole nodded slowly. “Are you prepared to take on whatever that reason may be?”

“Yes.”

Calla met them at the backdoor. She jumped when the door opened and they strode in. Her hands dropped from trying to zip up her coat and she exhaled.

“I thought he killed you and was off burying your body under the swings.”

Cole smirked. “I was tempted.”

With that, he left them there and made his way back to the others.

Jared could feel her apprehension even before she opened her mouth.

“I get what you’re doing,” she said. “You’re worried that if you put an end to this, my uncle will fire you and you won’t be welcome here anymore.”

None of those things had even crossed his mind. The not having a job didn’t worry him. He would be fine if he left McClain’s Pack N’ Go, but there was a prickle in his chest at the thought of losing his second family. The McClain’s had all but adopted him right along with Damon over fifteen years ago. His life had become intermingled with theirs and he wasn’t sure what he would do if that thread ever snapped. Nevertheless…

“Is that why you said yes?” Her quick avoidance of his gaze was answer enough. “I can find another job. Losing your family, it would hurt. But ultimately, the only real pain I would feel would be if I lost you.”

Sadness glittered in her eyes, making them appear luminous in the semidarkness. “You really want to do this?”

“More than anything,” he answered with absolute honestly. “The timing’s off and it’s a year or so ahead of when I had planned—”

“Planned?” she gasped. “You planned to ask me?”

Her disbelief drew a humorless chuckle from him.

“Calla, I meant every word I said in that room.”

“I thought you were just saying those things so my dad wouldn’t beat the shit out of you.”

“While I respect Cole, the only person I care about is you and what you want.”

She turned away from him, arms folded across her abdomen as she shuffled five feet. “It’s all happening too fast. We wound up in bed just this morning. You asked me to give us a chance … just this morning. Now I’m married to you and there is still just so much…”

“I’m not asking you to move your stuff into my place.” He paused. “I mean, I wouldn’t say no, but I’m willing to go slow.” His poor attempts at humor were meant by her dry scowl. “Look, I didn’t plan this,” he tried again. “I didn’t set out to get us both drunk and hitched. But I’m not exactly horrified and heartbroken over it either. It’s not going to be easy, but we can make this work if we try.”

“But what if it doesn’t work?” she asked again. “What if you realize what a huge mistake you’ve made and…”

“Or it could be the best thing that ever happened to either of us,” he mused. “Maybe this was exactly what we were both waiting for. Maybe this was fate. All I know is that I’m prepared to do whatever it takes to keep you.”

Chapter Nine ~ Calla

If there was one thing the people of Willow Creek were any good at, it was spreading gossip. Calla getting married to Jared on the night of someone else’s wedding was something her tiny town was not soon to forget for a very long time. She had known the moment it all hit the fan that she was in for a long, exhausting ride, especially more so since she was a McClain.

The people of her town had almost come to expect craziness from her family. Her mom and dad started it when she got pregnant with Calla and then her Uncle Sloan had told everyone the baby was his to keep her dad from taking the hit. When it all came to light, many were shocked, but that didn’t stop them from being smug about it. Then when her dad rescued Damon from an asshole, abusive dad … it had started another McClain wildfire. Her family wasn’t meant for small town life where every aspect of their lives was scrutinized under a magnifying glass. People in the city didn’t give a shit. But small town gossip was what fueled Willow Creek.

From the moment Calla opened Libellule the next morning, the bell over the door never stopped jingling. There came a time when she had to fight back the urge to rip the damn thing off the frame and pitch it into the snow. It was solely the fact that everyone who walked in bought something that kept her from closing shop and going home to nap, even if they did so in hopes of getting information out of her.

By noon, her head hurt and there was a twitch in her right eye that was driving her crazy. It was the first time in hours that the shop was empty and she’d never been so happy.

Then the bell jingled and Calla nearly whimpered. Instead, she fixed a smile on her face that felt painful and turned.

“Jared!”

Taking up her entire doorway, he grinned back at her. He was clad in his work clothes, ratty jeans, scuffed and worn boots, and his heavy coat. But he was a sight for sore eyes.

“Hey.” He let the door shut behind him with another tinkle of bells that made Calla flinch. “You okay?”

Sighing, she wobbled her way to the counter and leaned against the glass. “I am exhausted,” she confessed. “That damn bell hasn’t stopped jingling since eight o’clock this morning and I swear I’m going to have nightmares about it tonight.”

Jared chuckled. “Rough day?”

“You can say that.” She groaned. “Every woman in Willow Creek has been in here hoping for an exclusive. You would think we were the only people in history to have gotten married.”

Gray eyes narrowed in quiet deliberation. “Well, I think we might be the only ones who ever eloped. That sort of makes us town celebrities.”

Despite her weariness, Calla chuckled. “I am actually hoping one of the teenagers at the high school gets knocked up soon. I don’t know how much longer I can handle this fame.” Taking a deep breath, she turned her gaze up to his. “What are you doing here? I thought you had to work today.”

He nodded. “I am working. I mean, I was. I still am?” He frowned as he mulled over his own words. “I’m on break,” he finished with a shrug.

Laughing, Calla straightened. “Okay. Are you working here in town?”

“Yeah, I’m helping Ms. McPherson with her awning and a few other repairs around the shop.”

Her eyebrows went up. “You’re just down the block?”

His clothes rustled as he moved forward. A warm tingle prickled down her body as he drew closer. Then his frame was propped against the counter next to her, so close, there was a mere inch between them. They stood facing each other with their forearms resting on the glass. His fingers lightly grazed over the back of her hand, spreading up to her wrist and back again to curl around hers, swallowing her hand in his. Her pulse spiked. Her breathing quickened. All thoughts of a nap vanished as his free hand went to her hip and pulled her to him.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” he murmured.

He kissed her. It was gentle, but firm, and it zapped through her in sharp little bursts of heat. Just as quickly, too quickly, he pulled back and peered down into her eyes.

“Have lunch with me?” It was placed as a question, yet still somehow came off as a statement. It baffled her how he managed to do that.

“It’s only noon,” she murmured, gazing a little starry-eyed at his mouth. “I take my lunch at one.” She moistened her lips and forced herself to look up into his eyes. “But I can make an exception if you promise to get me back in an hour.”

Amusement and hunger shimmered across the pools of silver. “I really meant lunch. I only have thirty minutes and I’m starving.”

Calla blinked. “Oh!”

His laughter vibrated up his chest and spilled into the air between them, loud and rumbling. His arms tightened around her and she was crushed into him. His lips nuzzled her temple, warming the skin and ruffling the hairs there.

“But I do like the way you think.”

Cheeks warm, Calla nudged him back and scowled up at him without any heat. “Let me close up quickly.”

Moving around the counter, she pulled out the money tray from the register and took it with her into the back. She locked it into the safe and hurriedly pulled on her coat. Jared was waiting for her by the door when she returned. Together, they made their way down the street to Ma’s. The place was crammed with the afternoon rush. Denise waved at them—or at Jared, Calla thought—from behind the counter. Jared waved back and moved forward with Calla to place their orders.

She ordered a taco salad. He got the burger with chili fries. Together, they found a table in the corner and sat.

“So how did you get roped into helping Ms. McPherson?” she asked as she scooped bits of meat and lettuce into her mouth.

“She came out to thank me last week when I shoveled a path in front of her shop and I noticed her awning was sagging so I offered to help fix it.” He rolled those wide shoulders of his. “It’s only a few screws that need tightening. I’m working at the Company tomorrow and again Thursday and Friday, so I figured I’d do it today.”

Calla studied him from across the table, touched by his thoughtfulness. She knew how hard her uncle and his crew worked helping people move during the week, so for him to take his day off to help someone made her fall for him all the more, especially when she had a feeling he wasn’t accepting payment for his help either.

She must have been watching him for too long, because he paused mid chew and glanced up.

“What?”

Biting back her grin, she fisted a wad of napkin and lightly wiped at the smear of ketchup on his chin.

“Nothing. You’re just adorable.”

Jared grinned boyishly and went back to his burger.

She didn’t finish her salad. He did. Plus all his food and a slice of cake. Calla was amused, and a little intimidated, by his appetite.

“How can you eat like that and still look like that?”

She motioned to his toned and beautiful body.

He shrugged. “Luck?”

Shaking her head, Calla chuckled as she found the keys to the shop and pushed the door open. Jared followed her in and took her wrist before she could move too far in. She was pulled to him.

“Have dinner with me tonight.”

“Dinner?” she parroted.

He nodded. “What time do you get off?”

The dirty, horny part of her brain wanted to say whenever you touch me, but he had to get back and she didn’t want to start something she’d have to wait until later to finish.

“The shop closes at six,” she answered. “I leave about seven.”

“I’ll pick you up at your place at nine then,” he decided. “We’ll grab dinner and see a movie.”

Calla’s mouth curved. “Is this a date?”

His hands splayed across her back and she was curved into his chest. “Possibly.” He kissed her soundly. “And to show what an amazing husband I am, I’ll even let you pick the movie.”

She was still laughing when he smirked, kissed her cheek and left the store.

True to his word, Jared arrived promptly at nine that evening. Calla was just switching the lights off and making her way to the door when he knocked lightly. Coat drawn on over her favorite little black dress, black stockings, and red pumps, she hurried over to unlock the door.

He wore black trousers. The rest was covered beneath his coat. She thanked the fashion gods that she’d worn something that could be both fancy and casual, since he hadn’t told her where they’d be going for supper, but assumed it wouldn’t be too fancy since they’d be going to the movies afterwards.

“Hey.”

She kissed him, partly out of reflex, but mostly because she’d actually missed him.

He grinned down at her, seemingly pleased by her gesture. “Hey.”

Cheeks warm, she locked the door and followed him to his truck.

There weren’t many romantic places in Willow Creek. They didn’t even have a movie theater and only the one restaurant. To go on an actual date, one had to drive at least twenty minutes into the next town to have a night out.

They drove to Newburry. The streetlamps were on as night shimmered over the town. People were still out. The shops were still open and the roads were much more crowded than what Calla was used to. But Jared seemed unperturbed as he reached one hand off the wheel and rested it lightly on Calla’s thigh. Without thinking, she settled hers over his and watched as buildings blurred by.

“I think I’d like to open a shop here,” she decided as a for lease sign flitted out of sight. “Not right now, of course. Libellule’s only been open the one year, but maybe in another three, or four years.”

Jared gave her leg a gentle squeeze. “That’s a good idea. Would you call it Libellule Two?”

Calla laughed. “No, probably just Libellule. The main shop would remain in Willow Creek, but it would be a chain.”

“I like it,” he said.

She turned her head to him. “Are you humoring me?”

Never taking his eyes off the road, he shook his head. “Not at all. You have a knack for business and you’re good at what you do. I think there’ll be a Libellule all over the world one day.”

A deep, warm hum filled her chest. Her heart melted and she had to tamp the urge to lunge across the divide and kiss him.

They pulled up in front of a red bricked building with a burgundy awning over magnificent mahogany doors with gold handles. Large, bay windows gleamed with golden light spilling out from inside. Something was written in loopy gold font across the domed awning that Calla couldn’t make out, but she did understand the much simpler block letters underneath.

“Originally established in sixteen-fourteen France,” she read out loud. “Jesus, four hundred years ago.” She took the hand Jared offered her and eased out of the truck. “Maybe I should ask them for business tips.”

Chuckling, he led her to the doors and ushered her inside.

It was comfortably warm and sprinkled with the delicious scent of creamy sauces and herbs. Her mouth began to water even before they crossed the short foyer to the arched doorway and through a set of heavy, burgundy drapes.

Soft violin music serenaded the quiet hum of chatter, the gentle clink of silverware, and laughter. Everything was a rich maroon and gold and it made her think of being in a castle. A wood paneling separated the entrance from the main room, but judging from the level of commotion, she had a feeling it was a full night.

“I don’t think I’m dressed for this place,” she whispered, feeling suddenly self-conscious.

Jared never got the chance to respond when a rail thin man in a black suit bustled out from behind the wall and greeted them with a fluid stream of French.

Shit, Calla thought, trying to remember her high school French lessons.

Jared didn’t seem to have that problem. He responded fluently and without hesitation. And Calla couldn’t believe how wet that made her. Although, it didn’t really surprise her. Jared’s dad was French and used to make him speak nothing else while he was home. She remembered going over as a kid with Damon and Willa and Jared’s dad would talk to him. It always sounded like he was pissed off, but Jared had assured them he wasn’t. Nevertheless, Jared always aced their French class.

The pair chuckled over something Jared said. Then the man’s warm, brown eyes settled on Calla. He said something she didn’t understand. Jared answered for her and the man chuckled again.

“Pardon me.” He switched to a thick English. “I was complimenting how radiant you look this evening, mademoiselle.”

At least she understood mademoiselle. Then he was talking again before she could thank him.

“Je m’appelle Jean Paul.”

“Calla,” she answered, offering him her hand.

He took it and she marveled at how dainty and soft his was.

“Je suis très heureux de faire votre connaissance.” He chuckled a little sheepishly. “Pardon me,” he said again. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”

“Merci!” Calla said, basically the extent of her knowledge of the language. “You too.”

Jean Paul laughed and gave her hand a light squeeze before letting it go. He waved with the same hand towards the opening he’d come through.

With Jared’s hand resting lightly on the small of her back, she was guided after the maître d' into a grand and luxurious opening that seemed to gleam expensively. Platforms draped in lush, red carpet rose like the tiers on a cake to four floors ringed by glass railings trimmed in gold. Tables draped in white and red cloth dotted all four levels. She had been right in her earlier assumption, the place was brimming. The faces blurred as they passed them up one, then two, then three floors. They stopped on the fourth floor. There were only three tables and the other two weren’t occupied. They were completely alone up there.

Jean Paul took their coats, helped Calla into her chair and left them with the promise of their waiter arriving shortly.

“This place is amazing,” she said once it was just her and Jared.

Jared nodded. “I used to come here all the time.”

Some of the charm lifted at his confession. She couldn’t help wondering if he brought other women there. If that was his main date place to impress the panties off his dates before taking them back to his place. Ugh! She hated that side of herself, and yet she couldn’t stop thinking about it.

“Did you want wine?” he asked.

Calla narrowed her eyes. “The last time I drank with you, I wound up naked and married.”

Jared laughed. “I promise only to get you naked this time.”

Warm ripples worked up her spine and filled her stomach at the promise. “Only one glass.”

He put his hand up in surrender. “If you say so.”

Their waiter arrived and Jared ordered a bottle of wine. They were left with their menus and that night’s specials before the man left.

“So your dad still makes you speak French when you go over?” she wondered while perusing the leather bound book.

There were no prices marked and she had a feeling nothing listed would be cheap. Also, everything was written in French.

“Yup,” he replied. “He says it’s my heritage and I should respect it, which I do, of course, but man it sucked when I was a kid and had friends over.”

Calla chuckled. “I remember. Everything on here looks so good. I just wish I knew what half of them were.”

“Do you trust me?”

She looked up over the menu. “What?”

He closed his and set it aside. Then stretched out a hand for hers. She passed it over and watched as he set hers on top of his.

“I think I know what you’ll like.”

“It better not be snails,” she warned. “Or frog legs.”

Jared snickered, which did nothing to help ease her apprehension. “Trust me.”

“Said the lion before he ate the lamb,” she grumbled to herself.

His eyes sparked. “That comes later.”

The place between her thighs gave a twang of longing and she barely managed to stifle her moan at the promise.

Instead, she replied, “Well, someone’s awfully sure of themselves.”

His chuckle was low, husky, and sexy as all fuck. “The only thing I’m sure of is that I want you out of that dress and under me.”

Their waiter took that moment to appear with Jared’s wine request and a basket of breadsticks. He promptly produced the label for Jared’s approval before filling their glasses. Calla had never been so happy to get alcohol. The warmth of it buzzed straight through her as she downed her first glass. Not saying a word, the waiter promptly refilled it, stuffed the bottle into a bucket of ice and turned to ask if they were ready to order.

Jared, taking his sweet damn time, peeled his hot, stripping gaze away from her to answer the man in French. But it returned to her the moment he was finished and Calla all but combusted in her seat.

“Stop looking at me like that!” she finally snapped.

“Like what?”

“Like you’re fucking me in your head.”

His grin was slow and devastatingly gorgeous. “Maybe that’s because I am fucking you in my head and you’re loving it.”

Despite the heavy sexual tension thickening the air, Calla laughed. She shook her head.

“You’re incorrigible.” She nipped a breadstick and nibbled pensively on it. “How did Ms. McPherson’s awning go?”

“Fine,” he answered. “I told her I’d come by Wednesday and help with her door.”

Calla frowned. “What’s wrong with her door?”

“The hinges squeak.” He took a breadstick as well. “Just needs a spray of WD40. Won’t take me long. I would have done it today, but the awning needed new brackets and took longer than I expected.”

Their chatter continued at a steady pace. There were no awkward silences as Calla had originally feared. They seemed to have plenty to talk, or laugh, about. It was almost a shock when their waiter returned and asked if they wanted dessert.

Jared checked his watched. “We might have to rain check that movie,” he said with a laugh. “It’s after one.”

“What?” Calla checked her own watch. “Oh my God! We’ve been here for almost three hours?”

She glanced down at the table in front of her where her food had been what seemed like only moments ago. It was empty now and she couldn’t even remember having finished her platter of Confit de Canard, which she recalled Jared telling her was preserved duck.

“How long is this place open until?” she wondered.

“One,” the waiter told her.

Yet the restaurant hadn’t dimmed in noise, which was a relief; she would have felt horrible if they were the only ones keeping the kitchen open.

“Would you like dessert?” Jared asked.

Calla shook her head, not only because she was full, but because she was a little afraid of how much that place was costing Jared.

“I’m good.”

The waiter placed the check down discreetly at Jared’s elbow, cleared away their empty wine glasses and hurried away.

“Let me at least pay for half,” Calla offered, reaching for her purse.

Jared’s head came up, his eyes narrowed in genuine offense. “Uh, no!”

“I don’t mind!” she protested.

Still eyeing her, he slipped his credit card into the leather sleeve and closed it without even glancing at the bill. Then he rose and moved around to her side. She was pulled out of her chair and into his arms.

“Jared…”

He silenced her with a kiss. It didn’t feel like a very long kiss, but when he finally released her, the check was gone and his card was sitting on the table on a silver tray with two mints. Their waiter stood a discreet distance away holding their coats.

“I can’t believe we were in there for so long,” she said as they made their way out of the restaurant towards the car.

Jared reached for her car door and yanked it open. “Tired?”

She took a moment to assess how she felt before shaking her head. “No, actually.”

“Good,” was all he said as he helped her into the cabin.

He took them to a coffee shop tucked away in a quaint little section of town where the buildings were older and the roads were cobblestone. Had it not been for the streetlamps, Calla would have felt like they’d transported backwards in time to Paris in the thirteen hundreds. Most of the shops were modernized, but still held the aura of coziness. There were art studios, coffee shops, and elegantly displayed boutiques.

At the glass door, Jared held it open for her and ushered her into the warm space scented with the scent of rich, freshly brewed coffee, wood polish, and cinnamon. The ambiance was dim, illuminated solely by the roaring hearth against one far corner and the occasional halo of light spilling out of nicks in the ceiling. A plush, red sofa sat facing the hearth. There were other armchairs, settees, and an assortment of bean bags, benches and chairs circling different types of coffee tables. Against the back, a long, curved bar gleamed beneath the four dangling lights. A woman stood behind it wiping ceramic mugs.

“We’re closing in five minutes,” she stated without glancing up. “But we open again at six tomorrow.”

Calla stiffened and started to edge back, only to be drawn short by Jared’s arm around her middle.

“Oh I’m sure the boss won’t mind,” he said.

The woman’s head jerked up. She shook the silky brown strands of hair out of her face and squinted across the room.

“Jared?”

Jared grinned. “Busy night, Hayley?”

Laughing, Hayley set the mug down and hurried around the counter. Her boots clacked loudly in the silence before she was right in front of Jared, with her long, dark arms wound tight around his neck and her mouth fused enthusiastically over his.

Jared nudged her back, looking sheepish. “I brought someone,” he told the woman, who seemed dazed and bemused in Calla’s opinion. “Hayley, this is my wife, Calla.”

Hayley blinked enormous brown eyes, but rather than even glance in Calla’s direction, she stared at Jared.

“Wife?”

Jared nodded. “We got married yesterday.”

That finally got her to notice Calla. She wasn’t even subtle about her surveying. One finely penciled brow lifted against a beautiful face gifted with a pair of generous lips, stunning brown eyes fanned with thick, dark lashes and cheekbones Calla would kill for.

“You could have just phoned,” she said at last, looking at Calla, but talking to Jared. “You didn’t have to bring her all the way down here.”

“I don’t need to call,” Jared replied in a tone that suggested he was not appreciating Hayley’s attitude. “I own the place.”

Calla’s stunned confusion was put on hold by Hayley’s response.

“Half,” she muttered, turning on soft, brown boots and marching back to the counter. “I just finished cleaning the machines so I hope you weren’t thinking of ordering anything.”

Rather than answer, Jared led Calla to the sofa and motioned her down on the cushion.

“Tea or coffee?”

It took her a moment to pull her jaw up off the ground before she could answer, “Coffee. Please.”

Jared got the drinks himself, ignoring Hayley’s death glare and grumbling about making a mess. It must have hit his patience, because he told her to leave, which she did with a stream of unprofessional cuss words.

“You own this place?” Calla asked the moment Jared returned with their drinks.

“Yes and no,” he said evenly. “I co-own it with a buddy of mine. He does all the actual work and calls me when something needs to be fixed. So, if we’re honest, I don’t really have any hand in the place.”

“But you own this place,” she repeated slower, taking the dark brew he offered her.

Jared chuckled. “Half.”

“Why did I never know about this?” she cried, setting her cup down on the low, glass coffee table.

Jared did the same and used his hand to rub the back of his neck. “Well, probably because I haven’t told anyone, not even Damon. Like I said, I have no real dealings here. I’m more of a … on call repairman. Occasionally, I’ll come in and see how things are, but I couldn’t tell you a damn thing about the paperwork, or what brand of coffee we use.”

“Then why open a coffee shop?” she wondered.

He had the decency to grimace. “When Lucas came to me with the idea, I thought why not? I love working at your uncle’s company, but I know I’m not going to be doing that forever. Eventually, I’m hoping to do something else. I might work here, get Lucas to show me the ropes, or just keep things the way they are. I’m in no hurry. The place makes good money and I could easily live off it, I just choose not to.”

Calla could only simply stare at him.

“It’s really not that big of a deal,” he said. “I’m still the same person I was fifteen minutes ago.”

“But you own a business,” she blurted finally. “And you never said a thing about it.” Something began tightening in her chest. “This is what I was talking about last night. We don’t know a damn thing about each other.”

His hand settled over hers when she started to get to her feet.

“And that is why we’re here,” he replied. “It’s our first date, Calla, and I’m clearly not hiding anything, or I wouldn’t have brought you here. I’m being honest with you.”

She couldn’t argue with that. How could she? Yet it didn’t settle the nervous, anxious knot in her stomach.

“Ask me something.”

“What?”

“Ask me something,” he repeated. “Anything you want.”

Instead, her gaze roamed over the cream colored walls, the smooth, marble floors dressed in plush area rugs and the promised comfort just at first glance. And it was ridiculous, the coiling sensation of unease and fear and yet she couldn’t shake it. Maybe it was because it was no effort at all for him to simply share pieces of himself with her and she wasn’t sure she could ever do the same.

“Hey.” His warm fingers closed around her chin and she was forced to confront him. “Does it really bother you so much?”

Truthfully, him owning, or half owning, his own business didn’t bother her in the slightest. She thought it was wonderful, but it was the sudden rush to be honest with the man she swore to love and cherish that was killing her. Granted, his confession wasn’t nearly as devastating as hers.

“No,” she whispered, getting to her feet.

She moved around the coffee table towards the leaping flames. Despite her coat, she couldn’t stave off the shivers making her tremble from head to toe.

“I’m twenty-one years old.” She heard rather than saw him get off the sofa. “I never planned on being a mover for the rest of my life, Calla. I have plans and dreams, as lame as that might sound. Owning a coffee shop might not fall into those plans, but I put a lot of work into building this place and that’s what I love doing. I love building things and fixing things. I mean, I went to school for three years to get my diploma in construction engineering technology because that was my dream.”

“I know.” She turned to face him, letting the fire warm her back. “I think it’s great that you have this place and it’s beautiful.”

Flames painted over his face, hollowing out his cheeks and the indents of his temples. His eyes appeared almost white in the flickering light.

“Then what?”

She started to turn away, but his hand caught her arm and she found herself melded into his chest with her head tipped back and her eyes locked with his.

“What?” he demanded.

“I was with someone,” she blurted before her brain and her mouth could conference the wisdom of her decision. “He was with someone else our entire relationship.” Her arms curled around her own midsection, like that could somehow ward away the chill that had begun seeping through her clothes. “I left him when I found out, but—”

Enough! Her brain slammed down on the rest. The sheer force of it resonated through her like the vibrations of a struck gong. Everything else, all the things still left unsaid stayed trapped behind the titanium wall. It was all her consciousness would allow her to tell him.

But maybe it was enough. Did he really need to know the rest? At least their relationship … their marriage wouldn’t start based on an entire lie.

“I would never do that to you.”

Calla blinked. She had almost forgotten he was still there.

She nodded. “I know.” And she meant it.

What she’d had with Richard hadn’t disillusioned her to the world. If anything, it had opened her eyes. She wasn’t jaded enough to think every man in the world was a cheater, or that they would do what he’d done. She still wanted to be loved. More than that, she needed to move on, to tuck the past away in the deepest recesses of her mind and forget. That was why she’d agreed to give her and Jared a chance, why she hadn’t fought harder to break their marriage. It might not have happened the way she wanted, but he made her feel safe and inexplicably whole. After being broken and alone for so long, she was selfish enough not to want to let it go.

Tender hands rested lovingly on her waist and she was folded into the warmth and security of his chest.

“Come home with me,” he murmured into the top of her head. “I want to hold you.”

Calla felt her lips twitch against the collar of his coat. “I don’t want to just be held.”

Chapter Ten ~ Jared

“Stop swaying!” Damon hissed through his teeth. Beads of sweat trickled down his temples despite the bandana and cut down the sides of his face. His blue eyes stayed narrowed as he adjusted his grip on the solid oak hutch. “Tilt your left in five.”

They’d taped the glass doors shut, but they continued to rattle ominously as Jared tightened his fingers around the base and counted five steps backwards. The fucking thing weighed about a million pounds. It was incredible how something that seemed flimsy could threaten to crush his spine.

At five, he tilted his hold and they eased out the door and onto the front porch of the house. His boots thumped on the wood paneling.

“Three,” Damon told him.

Having worked at the Company for a little over three years, he and Damon had developed their own mover’s code. It never took more words than was necessary and the other was so in tuned with the other that it was fluid.

In exactly three steps, the back of Jared’s heel caught the sharp rivulets cut into the moving truck ramp.

“Shift,” he grunted.

Damon set his jaw, but stopped moving just long enough for Jared to better adjust his grip. Then they were off again, climbing into the back of the truck. They set the hutch down and bundled it up in blankets to keep it from getting dented, scratched or broken.

“Shit!” Damon breathed as they ambled their way out, both panting.

“Right?”

Damon blew out a breath and swiped his forearm over his brow. “That was the last of it for the downstairs. Another twenty minutes and we’ll get the whole place into the truck.”

Jared nodded. “Break?”

“Fuck yes!”

Damon didn’t even pause. He dropped down on the porch swing. Jared joined him.

It was just the two of them on the job that day and they were completely alone. The owners were waiting at their new house for the truck to arrive and Jared was already exhausted, granted, not all of his aches were from moving furniture. Most of it was from Calla’s insatiable hunger in bed, and while he would cut his hands off before ever admitting it, she was wearing him out, which was marginally also his fault. He could never say no. Hell, he didn’t want to. He would happily stay in bed with her for the rest of their lives if it were possible. Just fuck, sleep, shower, eat, and fuck again on an endless loop. But every morning he watched her climb out of his bed, shower, and leave for work.

On his days off, he went to see her at lunch. But most days, he swung by on his way after work and picked her up for dinner. Then they’d go back to his place and spend the whole night wrecking his sheets. It was by far the best routine of his life.

“Beers after work?” Damon asked.

Jared checked his watch, calculating the time between them finishing and Calla getting off work.

“Yeah.”

Damon fished his phone out of his pocket. The screen was flashing with missed messages. Jared watched, not really paying attention as the other man thumbed through them. It was Damon’s low chuckle that brought him back from his weary desire to nap.

“What?”

Grinning, Damon turned the phone over so Jared could see the image of a very up close shot of Willa making a fishy face into the camera. Her blue eyes were enormous as she sucked in her cheeks and squeezed her lips together to create fish lips. The caption over it read: smile.

“She’s such a weirdo,” Damon mumbled with an affection that almost burned with how much he actually loved the girl.

Still smiling, Damon took the phone back and started writing her back. Jared watched his thumbs move over the keys and felt longing tighten his own chest. Not for Willa. But for the other blonde McClain.

Digging out his own phone, he started to pull up the keypad when he noticed the tiny icon at the top announcing one missed message. Surprise had him dragging the text open.

It was from Calla and it was only two little words: miss you, but they struck him square in the chest. His fingers moved over the pad before his head and heart had time to register what he was writing.

“Miss you, too.” He paused before adding, “Love you.”

He didn’t wait to see if she would write him back. If he let himself, he’d sit there and watch his phone like some love-starved teenager waiting for a message from their crush.

“How’s Willa?” he asked instead.

Finishing his message, Damon hit send and stuffed the phone into his pocket before answering. “She says all right, but she’s stressing out about all the exams coming her way before the Christmas holidays.” The swing creaked as he leaned back. “I want to go up for the day, see her, maybe take her mind off it for a couple of hours, but I know she won’t like that.”

Jared snorted. “Seriously? I think she’d love that.”

Damon bunched his nose. “No, it’s two hours she could be studying and I don’t want to distract her.” He paused, shrugged. “She’ll be home in a few weeks anyway and I’ll make it up to her.” He glanced at Jared. “How are things with Calla?”

Intense.

“Fine,” he said evenly. “We’re kind of taking it one day at a time.”

“How does it feel to be married?”

To that, Jared snorted. “Kind of feels like dating.”

They both chuckled.

“So things are okay?”

“I guess…” He drew in a deep breath and let it out in a white plume of hot breath. “She’s still not telling me something. I just don’t know what it is and I don’t want to push.”

Damon nodded. “Willa’s been trying to get her to spill for ages.”

Jared looked down at his hands after a long stretch of silence. “She said there was a guy.” The other man’s dark head turned in his direction, but Jared continued to study his interlocked fingers. “He cheated on her. Fucking douche.”

The low rasp of Damon scratching his chin filled between them. “I guess that makes sense.”

“But there’s more to it than that,” Jared said hotly. “I can feel it and it pisses me off that she won’t tell me.”

“Pride,” Damon said simply. “You know Calla. She went through nearly every boy in our high school before graduation. One finally went through her. Her ego’s probably bruised.”

“It’s not that,” Jared muttered. “It’s something else. He did something else. He broke her.”

Damon shrugged. “Maybe. But she seems happy now at least.”

It was ridiculous, but the statement actually lifted his spirits.

“Yeah?”

Damon snorted. “She’s not doing cartwheels down town square, or anything, but she’s smiling more and she almost reminds me of the old Calla, but a better version.”

Jared frowned. “What was wrong with the old Calla?”

“Nothing, but you have to admit she was a raging bitch.”

“Hey!”

Damon arched a brow at him. “You can get all outraged about it, but you know it’s true.”

Calla had never been the easiest person to get along with, not even as children. She’d always been loud and opinionated. True, there were times she could be mean, a little callous and thoughtless, possibly even selfish, but it had all been things that made her who she was. They had been parts of her and he loved all of her.

“I’d still do anything for her,” Damon went on. “She’s family, but there were days I wanted to run her over with a car. Like the time she put snakes in Willa’s locker on her birthday, or the time she switched Willa’s shampoo with dye and her entire face was purple for a week.” Damon shook his head. “She used to make Willa cry at least once a day and Willa always forgave her, which only pissed me off all the more. I won’t forgive her for that.”

“Jesus, D,” Jared muttered. “We were kids.”

Damon nodded. “I know. Hell, you and I did some really fucked up stuff growing up, but Willa’s different. She was never like other kids, like us. She’s soft and … sweet. She has this heart that just loves everyone without reservation and even when they hurt her, she still keeps loving them. And it fucking kills me when she cries. I just want to go ape shit on someone’s ass.”

Despite the intensity in his friend’s eyes, Jared laughed. “One of these days, you’re going to have to tell her that.”

“That I want to kill people for her?”

Jared laughed harder. “God, I hope not. Not sure she’d take it for the romantic gesture that it’s meant to be.” He sobered. “That you love her.”

Damon frowned. “She knows I love her.”

It took a great deal of patience not to roll his eyes. “I mean love her like you want to throw her down on the bed and make babies with her.”

Despite his deep scowl, there was a pink flush in Damon’s cheeks that had nothing to do with the cold.

“She’s not ready to hear that.”

Jared frowned. “How do you know?”

Damon straightened and turned his gaze into the back of the truck, which was directly in front of them.

“She’s just not. She’s still in school,” he snapped when Jared continued to watch him. “I don’t want to get in the way of that.”

“You think if you tell her you love her, she’ll drop out?”

“No, but shit happens and I don’t want to be responsible for wrecking her future if they do.”

“Shit?” he mimicked dryly. “It’s called condoms.”

Damon glowered. “Shut up.” He lowered his chin and stared at his hands bunched between his knees. “It’s not that. It’s just complicated.”

“Why? You guys aren’t related, not by blood, or marriage, and you’re both legal adults.” Jared shrugged. “I mean, if you’re worried about what the town will say, I don’t think you have to. You were both old enough to know you were adopted into the family and the town knows. You don’t even share a last name.”

“I wasn’t actually even thinking about that, but thanks,” Damon muttered.

“Well, what then?” Jared threw his hands up.

“What if she doesn’t feel the same?”

This time, it took Damon’s fist slamming into Jared’s shoulder to get him to stop howling.

“Not feel the same?” Jared panted loudly. “Are you kidding? The girl is fucking crazy about you. Do you think what you guys have is normal? And I mean that in a good way. Not everyone finds what you two have. There is no other girl in the world who looks at a guy the way Willa looks at you.”

“Why hasn’t she ever said anything then? She tells me everything.”

“Because this is Willa we’re talking about. She’s shy and probably thinks the same thing you do, that you don’t want her that way.”

Damon said nothing.

Jared didn’t push him. The topic was getting uncomfortably feminine and he was afraid he might accidently offer to get martinis after work and get their toe nails polished, or something.

“Come on, we’re almost done.”

Together, they headed back inside the house and finished loading the items into the truck.

Afterwards, they went into Billy’s for beers. The pub was filling up with men just getting off work. Jared had two before heading back to his apartment to shower and dress. There was still an hour before Calla got off work.

She was standing behind the counter when Jared arrived. There was a laptop open on the glass and she was frowning contemplatively down at the screen. Her blue eyes lifted when he walked in. The crinkles between her eyebrows smoothed out as her face broke into a smile.

“Hey.”

The sight of that smile and knowing he was the cause of it filled him with an elation that trumped all else. His feet carried him forward in three long strides. Then she was in his arms. Her mouth was captured beneath his and he felt calm flow through his entire body.

“Hey,” he murmured once he’d had his fill of her.

“How was work?” she asked.

Jared shrugged. “Fine.” He skimmed his fingers along the side of her face. “How are you?”

She drew out of his arms and turned to the laptop. “Just going over the website Dad put together.”

Jared didn’t know much about business, which was why Lucas dealt with the majority of things over at Silver Slice of Heaven. Unless it needed to be repaired, painted, mended, or moved, he left it to his partner, which worked fine for both of them. When they’d first bought the place, it was because Jared had been so apt at what he did that saved them thousands of dollars in repairs. That money in turn was put into getting top of the line espresso machines and coffee grinders, and whatnot. Jared may not be there physically as often as Lucas, but it was just as much his place as it was the other man’s. Nevertheless, the website looked fine to him. It was simple, chic and elegant, and it worked.

“I like it.”

Calla smiled at him. “Yeah? Me too.” She closed the laptop and tucked it away under the counter. “He even added a shopping cart, which I wasn’t sure of at first, but I got to thinking, why not? I’ll add a few different sizes to the site and people can order our stuff online. I’ll have to open a shipping account at the post office, determine cost of shipping internationally, and maybe get some nice boxes made up.”

Jared chuckled and stamped a kiss to her temple. “I love when you talk business.”

Calla paused and chuckled. “Sorry. I get all excited.” She checked her watch. “I just need to cash out, but—”

His cellphone chimed in his pocket, drawing both their attentions. He dug it out and activated the screen with a sweep of his thumb.

“It’s from Lucas,” he mumbled, reading the message. “Need to talk. Can you come down?”

Calla frowned. “That doesn’t sound good.”

Rubbing a hand over his jaw, Jared sighed. “No, it doesn’t.” He wrote Lucas back a text quickly before stuffing the phone into his pocket. “Want to come with?”

Calla nodded. “Yeah, let me just close up.”

It took her an hour, which it normally did, but Jared’s anxiety was at an all-time high by the time he finally got her into the truck. His mind was clouded with images of the Silver Slice of Heaven burning to the ground, or someone dying of food poisoning. He knew Lucas would call him if those were the cases, but he couldn’t help wondering.

Twenty minutes later, they were parked outside the coffee shop. He kept a hand resting lightly on the small of Calla’s spine as they maneuvered the icy sidewalk to the glass door. He ushered her in first and quickly followed.

There was no fire, or anyone lying on the ground dead, but the crowd making a line to the register was something to question. The rest of the place was swarmed as well with people sipping their drinks and reading the paper, or hammering away at their laptops. But the thing that didn’t belong was the tall, dark haired man standing behind the register.

Taking Calla’s hand, he led her past the line and around the counter.

“Lucas?”

Eyes the melted gold of honey snapped away from the fifty he was stuffing into the register and widened in relief.

“¡Gracias a Dios!” he exclaimed in Spanish, slamming the cash drawer shut.

He continued on rapidly in his native tongue, even though Spanish was not a language Jared knew, but judging from the tone and the anger in the man’s eyes, nothing he was saying was very nice.

“Where’s Hayley?” Jared cut in.

That seemed to be the wrong question to ask. Lucas’s eyes narrowed to furious slits.

“Why don’t you guys take this into the back?” Calla interjected, eyeing the curious, and slightly irritated, customers standing in line. “I can handle this.”

Jared didn’t ask how. He motioned Lucas to follow him into the office.

“What happened?” he demanded the moment the door was shut behind them.

Lucas answered … in fast, angry Spanish.

“Dude, I don’t speak Spanish!” Jared snapped.

Lucas’s nostrils flared, but he calmed himself down enough to switch to English. “You need to talk to that girl. This is the fifth shift she has missed in a week. And when she does come, she is belligerent to the customers, doesn’t clean up her messes, or gets the orders wrong.”

“Hayley?” Jared guessed.

“Yes, ‘ayley!” Lucas snapped.

Jared sighed, shaking his head. “Why haven’t you fired her?”

“Because you hired her!” Lucas barked. “You fire her and if I talk to her, I will say things that…” He broke off in a series of Spanish profanities.

Jared put up his hands. “Okay, I’ll handle this.”

To prove it, he walked to the phone on Lucas’s desk and found Hayley’s number. He dialed and waited for someone to answer. No one did. His call went to voicemail.

“Hey, Hayley,” Jared began. “This is Jared from Silver Slice of Heaven. I regret to inform you that due to your behavior the last week, we have to let you go. Your last check will be mailed to you. I’m sorry things had to end this way and we wish you success in the future. Thank you. Bye.”

He hung up and turned to Lucas. “Machine.”

Lucas exhaled, and seemed to relax with the air he released. “She was my best employee. Always fast. It was why I put her on during all the rushes, but now I have no one to fill the spot and it has been madness here.”

“Can you call someone else in to cover until you hire someone new?”

Lucas stared at the phone. “Chelsea, or Ashley,” he mused. “But they are both easily flustered.”

“What happened to Link?”

“School. He can only work weekends.”

The metal desk groaned slightly as Jared propped a hip against the corner. “Maybe call Ashley and Chelsea for the next few days. One can man till, the other the drinks.”

Lucas nodded. “It was what I was thinking.” He shook his head. “Hayley never needed help. There was never a line with her.”

Guilt pulled Jared’s gaze to the ground. “It might actually be my fault. We got into a fight a few nights back and Hayley left pissed.”

Lucas’s dark, dominating eyebrows furrowed. “Fight about what?”

“I brought Calla here.”

Jared went on to explain his life the last few weeks. Lucas listened until he was no longer talking.

Finally, when he spoke, there was skepticism in his voice. “You’re married?”

Jared nodded. “You briefly met her. She’s outside … shit!”

He’d forgotten about leaving Calla alone in the middle of a crazy rush. He yanked open the door and hurried out, expecting to find customers rioting and Calla huddled under the counter. But there was nothing. There was no line. People were sitting around the room with their drinks and Calla stood behind the register, smiling as some fancy-pants douchebag leaned far over the counter towards her.

Rich, was the first thing Jared summarized about the guy. Expensive gray suit with thin, white lines, shiny, black hair swept back from a rugged and naturally tanned face and sparkling blue eyes that were riveted on the blonde watching him. He had both forearms folded on the counter. The sleeves had drawn up to reveal the shiny, gold Rolex on his wrist as he flashed Calla his million dollar smile.

Calla laughed at something he was telling her and continued to smile when she caught sight of Jared.

“Baby, come meet Sabastian,” she said without missing a beat. “He was just telling me how beautiful the Bahamas are this time of year.” She turned those pretty blue eyes back to the man. “This is my husband.” She slid her arm around Jared’s and drew him tight into her side. “We just got married and haven’t even decided where to go on our honeymoon.”

Sabastian’s smug little smile faded as he glanced from Calla to Jared and straightened. His gaze flicked to the hand Calla had rested on Jared’s forearm and Jared knew he was searching for a wedding band.

“I didn’t realize,” he said stiffly, as he took up his coffee cup and edged backwards. “Thanks.”

Calla smiled and waved and watched until Sabastian was out of the shop before tilting her head back to peer into Jared’s face.

“I worked at a bistro for a couple of months during university to pay for my shoe habit,” she told him, still grinning with every tooth in her mouth. “I used to get assholes like him all the time. They helped perfect this smile.” She batted her eyelashes. “It’s my eat-shit smile.”

Jared burst out laughing. He took her upturned face between his hands and kissed her hard.

“Did you think I’d run off with Sabastian?” she asked against his mouth.

“No.”

Her smile curved against his. “Good.”

“I’d kill him before you could,” he finished.

Her chuckle vibrated between them before she pulled back and faced the woman that had walked into the shop.

Jared watched as she seamlessly took the order, punched it into the register, and made the drink without faltering once. All the while, she chattered on with the woman as though they’d known each other for ages. The woman stuffed a generous tip into the cup in front of the register, laughing the whole time before taking her latte and leaving.

Calla returned her attention to him once more. “Did you guys solve the problem?”

Jared nodded. He took a step back and gestured towards Lucas.

“Calla, this is Lucas Perez, a good friend and business partner.” He settled a hand on Calla’s back and drew her forward towards Lucas. “Lucas, this is my wife, Calla.”

Lucas smiled broadly and offered her his hand. The dark tone of his skin clashed with the soft white of hers.

“It is a pleasure,” he said. “I heard many things about you.”

Calla inclined her head. “It’s nice to meet you as well. You have a beautiful coffee shop.”

“Calla owns her own boutique,” Jared bragged for her.

Interest sparked in Lucas’s eyes the way they always did when the prospect of shop-talk reared its head.

“Here?”

“Willow Creek,” she answered. “It’s nothing big.”

“It’s amazing,” Jared argued. “And doing very well. They just got a website set up.”

Calla elbowed him lightly, but her face was a soft, pleased pink.

“What is it called?” Lucas asked. “Maybe I will come by.”

“Libellule,” she said.

Lucas’ eyes narrowed. “My French is rusty … bumblebee?”

Calla chuckled. “Dragonfly.”

“Yes!” Lucas grinned. “Beautiful name.”

Calla thanked him just as the door opened and a group of women breezed in. She left Jared’s side to take their order.

“She is beautiful,” Lucas said when she was out of ear shot. “And smart. How did you find a woman so much better than you?”

Jared couldn’t even think of a reason to be upset by that comment. Why would he when he wondered the same thing himself.

“Hell if I know.”

“Well, take care you keep her.” Lucas grinned at him. “A woman like that doesn’t come into a man’s life twice in one lifetime.”

He couldn’t agree more.

“Oh, I definitely plan to.”

Calla returned to them a moment later.

“So, how did you two meet?”

Lucas blinked. “You haven’t told her?”

Jared visibly cringed. “I was hoping it would never come up,” he answered honestly.

Lucas gasped in feigned outrage. His hand flew up dramatically to his chest.

“It was a defining moment,” he declared.

Calla laughed. “Okay, now someone has to tell me.”

Jared made them each a cappuccino and joined them at the table next to the window. He took the spot next to Calla as Lucas retold the story of how he met Jared with a flourish that should only be reserved for theater.

“So there I was,” Lucas began. “Sitting through a boring seminar about the importance of filing the proper paperwork when opening a business and who should stumble in? Jared. He just barges into the room, an hour late, looking lost and confused with one hand opening his pants.”

“I wasn’t opening my pants,” Jared mumbled against the rim of his mug. “I was getting ready.”

Calla laughed. “For what?”

Lucas continued before Jared could answer. “So he stands there, at the head of the class and says, I’m guessing this isn’t the bathroom.”

Calla laughed harder. The sound of it carried through the shop, but none of them cared.

“He just stands there,” Lucas went on. “No one is talking. The instructor looks horrified. Then Jared says, can someone point me to the bathroom before I piss on the floor?”

“You didn’t!” Calla gasped.

“I really had to go,” Jared said, chuckling himself.

Calla, shaking her head, turned back to Lucas. “What then?”

“I took him,” Lucas said mildly. “What else could I do? We became friends after that. Been friends for three years now.”

“Aw!” Calla sighed. “I like that story. So how did you decide to go into business together?”

“That was my idea,” Lucas said at once. “I have always wanted to open my own restaurant, but I cannot cook—” Calla chuckled and took a sip of her drink. “—so I opened a coffee shop instead, because I love coffee. But I couldn’t without a co-signer. The bank was being unreasonable.”

“You had shitty credit,” Jared reminded him.

Lucas waved his hand dismissively. “Besides the point. Anyway, when I found this place, I knew it was my dream. It was perfect. I had to have it.”

“He really did,” Jared said. “It was scary how badly he wanted it.”

“But it didn’t look like this,” Lucas said, face growing serious, like he was telling a ghost story and was reaching a critical point in his tale. “It was a disaster. Nothing worked. It was infested with rodents and it was falling apart. The bank told me it would cost me double what I had to just do the repairs, never mind ordering furniture and machinery and such. So I went to my friend and construction engineer technician.”

Jared sighed, setting his mug down. “I thought he was insane. This place was a death trap…” he paused, squinted down at Calla. “Kind of like your car.” He snickered when she smacked him lightly in the arm. “But I agreed—”

“After making me beg,” Lucas muttered. “I practically had to promise him my first unborn child.”

“I was a construction engineer, not a subcontractor. I’d never built anything bigger than a rocking chair. I didn’t know how to get a building into shape. But I agreed, only because he was driving me nuts.”

Lucas beamed, unabashed. “Six months later…” He spread his arms open wide. “My dream is born.”

“I love this place,” Calla said with a sigh. She rested a hand on Jared’s arm. “You did amazing.” She smiled sheepishly at Lucas. “Both of you.”

Jared slid his arm out from under his and eased it around the back of her chair. “Thanks, babe. But I can’t take all the credit. I didn’t do the lights.” He shuddered visibly. “I could never make it as an electrician. I have this fear of getting electrocuted.”

Calla chuckled. “It’s still wonderful, and the coffee is amazing!” She took another sip of her drink. “I think I’m tempted to make the twenty minute drive out of town to get one of these every morning.”

“Here.” Lucas hurried out of his seat and disappeared behind the counter. A moment later, he returned with a small bag of unground coffee beans. He set it down in front of Calla. “You only need a good coffee grinder.”

Calla beamed. “Thank you!”

They stayed another few minutes after that as Lucas asked Calla about her business. The two seemed to be in their elements. Jared listened, occasionally answering a question, but he let them talk.

When it was time to go, Lucas shook Calla’s hand and made her promise to come back, to which Calla agreed she would. She was still grinning when Jared led her to the truck.

“I like him,” she said as he helped her into the cabin, her coffee hugged to her middle.

“Yeah, Lucas’s great.”

He closed her door and hurried to his side.

“So why did you never tell anyone you co-owned a coffee shop?” she asked once he was behind the wheel.

He started the truck before answering, “Because I really don’t feel like I do. I helped fix it and I help keep it up to date and all, but Lucas does the actual work. It’s his dream. I have no problems keeping out of the spotlight. Besides, I’m not a coffee shop owner. I’m a builder. I like building and fixing. That’s my dream.”

Calla smiled. “That’s actually kind of sweet.”

Jared chuckled as he eased them onto the street and headed off. “Thanks.”

“So.” She adjusted her weight in her seat. “What was the emergency?”

Jared sighed. “Hayley’s been giving him a hard time.”

“Hayley,” she repeated slowly. “The girl that was here the last time we came?”

He nodded. “I think because she was upset with me.”

“Why?” There was a quietness to the question he didn’t miss. “Were you together?”

“We went out once,” he said honestly. “It was months ago, before Denise. It was one date.”

“Did you sleep with her?”

“No, I knew by the end of the night we wouldn’t work out. She was too easily excitable. Everything was always in extremes with her, as you saw. I told her it wouldn’t work, but I think she was hoping I’d change my mind.”

She said nothing for two blocks.

“So what happened?”

“Nothing. I told her she was fired and her check would be in the mail.”

“You fired her?” The surprise in her voice amused him.

“Angry, or not, she was still an employee and if she doesn’t do her job, then she doesn’t have one.” He decided to change the subject. “Are you hungry?”

They grabbed dinner at a Greek restaurant before heading back to his apartment.

Despite wanting to go slow, Calla already had a spare of almost everything stowed away throughout his flat. He’d woken up one morning to a pink toothbrush next to his green one, socks and feminine, lacy panties in his underwear drawer and shoes … God, the woman had a shit ton of shoes. Yet that was nothing compared to the small shopping mall hung in neat rows inside his closet, folded in color coordinated rows inside his dresser and scattered across his floor. But when he brought up the notion of her just moving in, she had laughed and said it was too soon. It made him wonder just how much more stuff she could possibly have.

But the thing that really puzzled him was that she never wanted to go to her place. Since waking up married, they never went back. She never offered and he never asked and that only made him all the more curious.

“What do you say we crash at your place tonight?” he threw into the silence.

He felt rather than saw her head turn to him.

“My place?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged, keeping both eyes on the road. “We’re closer to it.”

“But you don’t have any of your stuff at my place.”

“That’s all right. I don’t work until later so I can always drive back to my place in the morning.” He stole a glance over at her when she said nothing. “Is there a reason you don’t want to go there?”

She was eyeing him warily. “No,” she murmured slowly. “There isn’t.”

“Great.”

She didn’t stop him when he started down her road. But there was a palatable tension in the cabin that seemed to thicken the closer they got. When he parked, she didn’t wait for him to get her door before she hopped out. Jared made no comment as he followed her mutely to the door. Neither spoke all the way to the third floor. Her keys muffled the shuffle of their feet. She let them into the blue-black darkness of her apartment and quietly closed them into it.

For a moment there was nothing, no sight, no sound. Then she flipped the light switch on and he winced. Her blue eyes met his and the quiet deliberation in them gave him pause. But whatever she was thinking, she never voiced it. Instead, she undid her jacket and moved deeper into the sitting room. Jared followed.

“We don’t have to be here if you don’t want.”

In the process of tossing her coat onto the back of an armchair, she turned to him. “Why do you want to be here?”

He shrugged. “Why not?”

Her eyes narrowed. “I’m not hiding anyone here.”

Her response completely threw him.

“That isn’t even remotely what I was thinking.”

“What then?” She folded her arms. “Is this your way of saying I’m at your place too much, because you could have just said so?”

Wow. He couldn’t believe how fast things had escalated.

“That is not what…” He stared at her in mute disbelief. “Jesus, Calla, I asked you to move in with me just last week!”

“Maybe you were being sarcastic.”

“I wasn’t! I don’t care if you’re there. I like you being there.”

“Then why are we here?” she snapped.

“Why not?” He threw up his arms in exasperation. “Why is this such a big deal?”

“Because I don’t understand why you had the sudden desire to come here.”

“Because it’s your place!”

Her face said it before her mouth did. “So?”

Neither one of them was going to win this, he realized.

“You know what, why don’t I leave? We can talk tomorrow.”

Something darkened across her eyes. He could see the shift of emotions, the tight coil of her shoulders. She peered back at him with a mangled knot of hurt and anger.

“If you didn’t want to spend the night with me, you could have just said!” she snapped. “I’m not some airhead who wouldn’t have understood.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” he shot back furiously.

“You brought me here so you could go off and spend the night doing whatever!”

Jared sputtered, actually sputtered as disbelief and a sick sort of humorless amusement broke through him.

“Are you serious right now?” he finally blurted.

Blood filled her cheeks, but she didn’t back down. “Don’t I look serious? Or do you think this is some kind of joke?”

“I don’t know what to think!” he cried. “I don’t know where any of this is coming from.”

“Then leave!” she half screamed. “There’s the door. Go!”

His own temper sizzling, Jared threw up his hands. “Fine!”

He left, slamming the door behind him like some hormonal teenager. The sound of it followed him all the way down the hall, mixing with the dark cloud of fury keeping him company. The metal steps leading to the backdoor sang with every hard pound of his feet.

“Pigheaded, stubborn…” he snarled under his breath.

His shoulder slammed into the apartment door and he was out in the parking lot, sucking in the sharp, cold air. His head of steam propelled him to the truck and all the way home before he realized what a colossal asshole he was. True it hadn’t been entirely his fault, but he sure as hell hadn’t made the situation better. There were so many things he could have done differently, so many things he could have said to calm her down. Instead, he’d acted like an idiot and stormed off.

Digging into his pocket, he unearthed his phone and called her. It never even rang and went straight to voicemail.

“Hey,” he murmured. “I’m sorry. I’m an idiot. Call me back, please?”

He considered driving back to her place and banging on the front door until someone let him in, but he knew this was better. They both needed time and space to cool down. Going back now would insure another fight and he didn’t want that. Hopefully, by the time she got his message, they would both be in a place willing to talk calmly.

In the meantime, he stayed in his clothes, but removed his boots before crawling into bed with his phone in hand. He flopped onto his stomach and waited for her to call him back.

The insistent shrilling scraped against the nerve endings of his brain like little claws. His agitated groan muffled it for a second before it was back, somehow louder than before.

Tangled sheets shifted beneath his searching hand before something cold and plastic hit his fingertips. He blindly hit talk and stuffed the offending device to his ear.

“What?”

There was a sort of silence on the other end, but it was hard to tell if it was actually there, or if he was falling asleep with the phone clutched to his face.

“Are you sleeping?” the voice demanded.

Jared grunted. He pried one eye open and squinted at the alarm clock.

“It’s three in the morning, asshole,” he grumbled.

“Well, I’ve been up most of the night trying to keep Willa from driving home, so get your ass up.”

Jared frowned. “Willa? What’s wrong with Willa?”

“The real question is what is wrong with Calla?”

He was instantly alert. “Calla? What’s wrong with Calla?”

“You tell me,” Damon shot back. “She called Willa upset and now Willa’s all upset and you know how I feel about that. What did you do?”

“Me?” Jared tossed back the covers and rolled himself out of bed. “I didn’t really do anything.”

“Willa thinks otherwise. Now, are you going to fix it, or do I have to come over there and beat your ass?”

His answer was to hang up and stuff the phone into his pocket. He shoved his feet into his boots, threw on his coat and marched out of his apartment. At Calla’s, he parked the truck in the lot and marched around front to buzz her suite. No one answered the first eight times, but he kept his finger on the button until there was a click.

“What?” came Calla’s furious snarl.

“Let me in!” he snapped back.

There was a pause. Then, “Jared?”

“Who the hell else would be crazy enough to show up on your doorstep at three in the fucking morning?”

“Why are you here?”

Jared frowned down at the metallic box. “Seriously? You want to have this conversation through an intercom?”

He heard her sigh. “Fine.”

The door buzzed and he marched inside. She was waiting for him in her doorway when he got to her floor and the sight of her tussled hair, rumpled flannel button up, and bare feet made his insides groan.

“It’s three in the morning,” she mumbled, careful to keep her voice down. “Why couldn’t this wait another few hours?” She took him in and frowned. “Why are you wearing the same clothes?”

“Because I fell asleep in them,” he shot back. “Because I was waiting for you to call me back, which you never did.”

Her frown deepened. “My phone died last night. It’s still being charged. You called me?”

“Yeah!” He dodged past her into the apartment. “I wanted us to talk … like adults.”

She shut the door quietly behind her and turned to face him. “So you waited until three in the morning to have that talk?”

“No! I was sleeping. Damon phoned and said Willa was freaking out because you were upset.”

“Willa.” Her exhale was followed by the roll of her eyes. “I’m going to strangle her.” With a shake of her head, she fixed him with her attention. “I’m not upset anymore. You can go.”

“I’m not going anywhere!”

To prove it, he jerked off his coat and tossed it over the armchair. His boots were kicked off next.

“What are you doing?”

Before answering her, he stormed over, scooped her up into his arms and marched into the bedroom. He dropped her down onto the rumpled sheets and reached for the hem of his sweater. He tore it off. His pants and socks followed. Then he crawled into bed with her.

“Jared…”

“Shut up.” He pulled her to him and dragged the sheets up around them. “We’re going to bed,” he told her. “In the morning, we’re going to talk.”

Chapter Eleven ~ Calla

It irked her that her body so easily complied to his command. She blamed it on being exhausted, and the middle of the night, but she knew neither of those things were the case; she’d been tossing and turning for hours before he’d arrived. It was only when she was cocooned in his embrace that sleep hit her like a two ton truck. She was out before she could even think of a reason to protest.

Her internal alarm clock woke her at six. She cursed the damn thing as she always did when it woke her up on her days off. But once she was awake, there was no going back. She usually got up, showered and dressed, and found something to do. That morning, she stayed in the confines of Jared’s arms and tried to think of what to say.

Her reaction to spending the night at her place had been insane, childish and blown so far out of context, she inwardly cringed with embarrassment. Her insecurities had really fucked her that time and she had no idea what she was going to tell him when he started demanding answers.

When Willa had called to ask her how things were going and to make her usual goodnight rounds before heading to bed as only Willa ever did, Calla hadn’t exactly told her. She only mentioned she’d had a fight with Jared, so of course, Willa went into instant concern mode, demanding to know what was wrong, which in turn had made Calla cry because all she could think was how stupid she was. She should have known Willa would badger Damon, who would badger Jared.

She sighed.

“How do you still smell so good first thing in the morning?” Jared’s stubble tickled the back of her neck with his quiet murmur. “I wake up smelling like I ate horse shit in my sleep.”

Despite her anxiety, Calla laughed.

His grin brushed her ear. “Morning.”

“Morning.”

The comfortable weight draped over her side and across her belly shifted. “How do you feel?”

Like an idiot.

“Fine.”

“Tell me what happened last night.”

While she knew it was coming, she couldn’t help flinch at the request. Part of her wondered if it was too late to pretend to be asleep still.

“It was nothing,” she whispered.

“It was not nothing,” he retorted. “There was nothing normal about that fight. You realize that, don’t you?”

She stayed where she was, staring at the wilting bouquet of roses on her windowsill. She was relieved she couldn’t see his face. Somehow explaining herself with him watching her felt impossible, no matter how much of a coward that made her.

“I was never allowed at his place,” she whispered. “He took me there once, but always made excuses for us to stay at mine. It never bothered me. I liked my place better anyway. Then I found out it was because she would visit his place and he didn’t want me to know.”

Sunlight kissed the rim of the vase and sparked.

“Jesus Christ, Calla.” His arms tightened around her. “I told you I would never—”

“I know!” She squeezed her eyes closed tight. “I’m fucked up.”

Jared sighed into the back of her neck. “You’re not fucked up, baby. You just need to realize I’m not him.”

“I know you’re not.”

“Then you need to stop treating me like I am.” He dragged her onto her back so she had no choice but to face him. “There is no one but you, and you need to remember that if we’re going to make us work.”

She peered up into his beautiful gray eyes, illuminated by the light radiating through the window behind her.

“I’ll try harder,” was the best she could do.

Since the announcement of her wedding to Jared, Calla’s biggest fear had been retaliation from the community. She had expected a hard backlash for being so reckless and tactless. But the shop was busier than ever. Most of the people were there to grill her for information, but that didn’t stop her from making sure that they paid for every bit of what she told them. The more they asked, the higher their bill got. For most, it was a price they were willing to pay if it meant getting an exclusive before Georgia May. Others got the hint and left.

The queen of gossip practically lived at the shop. She was there the moment Calla opened and stayed for hours, or until she had to leave for something else. It was more Georgia May than Calla ever wanted to see, but the woman was singlehandedly making Calla a very rich woman, so as far as Calla was concerned, she could rent a corner and live there if she wanted.

“We should get you a cot in the back, Mrs. Hadley,” Calla only partially teased when the woman flounced through the doors in a beautiful emerald coat and black leather gloves.

It had been almost eight weeks since she and Jared had tied the knot. Eight weeks and not a single other gossip worthy event had taken place. There was a brief moment when it almost seemed like something else was about to take the spotlight away, but at the last second, nothing happened and Calla was stuck with it.

But she told herself it was okay. Gossip meant nosy-busybodies, which meant more sales and while it felt like she was selling her soul, it also meant she was getting that much closer to opening a second shop and that was the main goal.

Nevertheless, it was not a good morning for her. Part of her had hoped no one would show, just for that one day so she could simply sit and wallow in her own misery. No such luck.

“My in-laws are throwing a gathering this weekend,” Georgia May muttered, not sounding the least bit happy about the fact. “It’s their anniversary, or some such thing, so, of course, they’re having this enormous party, never mind that it’s a week before Christmas and we all have a million more important things to do.”

“I’m sorry,” Calla managed.

Georgia May waved a hand dismissively. “I need a dress.”

Having no desire to move from her stool, Calla started to open her mouth and tell the woman she knew exactly where the dresses were, but decided against it. Customer service was how she kept her clients happy. Maybe if they found a dress quickly, the woman would just leave.

Hoping, she pushed her aching and clammy body to her feet and started to shuffle around the counter when the phone rang. Calla halted mid step and reached for the receiver.

“Libellule. Calla speaking.”

There was a long breath of silence.

“Hello?”

She waited two full heartbeats before giving a shrug and hanging up. She straightened, having no energy to even lift her feet, but dragged her weary self forward. The air felt thick around her, making every inhale nearly impossible. Her head thrummed and all she wanted to do was sleep. Instead, she made her way through the racks to the dresses.

“You look terrible, dear,” Georgia May observed, eyeing Calla shrewdly from head to toe. “Perhaps you should sit down.”

It was a chore not to glare at the woman.

“We have a few new…”

The room swayed ever so slightly to the right. Calla barely caught herself on a rack.

“Calla?” Georgia May grabbed for her. Even through the gloves, her manicured nails bit into Calla’s arm.

“I’m all right.”

“You need to sit down.” The woman argued, already maneuvering Calla to the settee. She dug her phone out of her pocket with the other. “Where do you keep your water?”

“The back, but really, I’m—”

Georgia May was already hurrying into the stock room. Calla heard her talking and wondered if she was calling the Willow Creek Gazette.

Unable to bring herself to care, she pressed her hot face into her sweaty palms. Her fingers trembled as she struggled to control her breathing. The air in the shop was heavy, suffocating, like she was in a box without air. Waves of heat rode along her spine, yet she couldn’t stop shivering.

“Here.”

Georgia May pressed a frosty bottle of water into Calla’s hand. The lid was already unscrewed and Calla took small ships. The cold liquid slid down the center of her chest and hit her empty stomach like a bomb.

Calla heaved. The bottle slipped from her fingers and hit the floor with a muffled thud. Water sloshed everywhere. But she couldn’t think past the ringing in her ears to care, or notice.

Her stomach wrenched violently and bile soared up her throat. She gagged and coughed as the foul tang coated her tongue. Wads of tissue were stuffed into her hand and her hair was scooped off her face and neck.

“It’s all right,” Georgia May crooned. “Just let it all up.”

Breathing hard, sweaty and exhausted, Calla slumped back on the sofa. Beads of salty sweat rolled down her temples and soaked into the collar of her blouse. She wiped at her mouth and closed her eyes.

“I’m so sorry.” She pried her eyes open and peered up at the woman standing over her. “I’ve been feeling off the last little while.”

Georgia May said nothing a long while, but Calla could see something was brewing behind her calculating eyes.

“You should see Dr. Phillips,” she said at last.

Calla nodded, amazed that she was in actual agreement with the woman. “I think I will.” She forced herself back to her feet. “Thank you.”

Georgia May inclined her head, still studying her. “Why don’t I come back tomorrow for that dress, hm? You go ahead and close shop and get yourself over to the clinic.”

Refusing to be in agreement a second time, Calla just nodded and walked the woman out. She snapped the lock into place and flipped the sign early for the first time since opening the place. Then she made her way unsteadily to the back for the mop bucket.

She had just finished cleaning up her mess when a loud knock erupted from the front. Groaning, Calla made her way forward, prepared to tell the person to go away, when she spotted her mother’s drawn and concerned face peering at her from behind the glass.

“Mom?” She hurriedly undid the lock and let the other woman in. “What are you doing here?”

“Georgia May called me,” her mom said, panting slightly. “She said you fainted?”

“I didn’t faint.” She shut the door. “I got sick. I’m fine though. I was just on my way to see Dr. Phillips.”

Her mother adjusted her purse strap more securely over her shoulder. “I’ll go with you.”

The clinic was a ten minute walk that was done with only the sound of their boots crunching on snow. Calla wasn’t feeling well enough to bring herself to make conversation. Her heart was drumming between her ears and all she wanted to do was curl up and sleep.

Nancy Hadley, Georgia May’s niece glanced up from the glossy fashion magazine she’d been dutifully filing her nails over and smiled at them with cool disinterest. As redheaded as her aunt, Nancy was just as arrogant and self-centered. Calla didn’t know Nancy all that well, but that didn’t mean she liked the woman.

“Can I help you?”

“We’d like to see Dr. Phillips,” Calla’s mom said evenly. “Is he available?”

There was no one else in the office, yet Nancy made a big show of flipping through the calendar.

“Look here,” Calla growled out through her teeth. “I will throw up all over your fucking desk if you don’t get me in that room to see the doctor, do you understand me?”

Her mom touched her sweaty back, but didn’t reprimand her.

Nancy’s nostrils flared, but she snapped the planner shut and rose to her feet. “This way.”

Dr. Phillips, the man who had been the town doctor for more years than anyone could count, looked up when they walked in. His squinty eyes were made even smaller by the enormous glasses perched on his nose.

“Calla. Lily.” He motioned them inside. “Thank you, Nancy. Please shut the door.”

“I still need someone to fill out the forms,” Nancy said tartly.

“I’ll do it,” Calla’s mom said, touching Calla’s arm. “You just talk to the doctor.”

The pair left, closing the door behind them. Calla made her way to the examination table and heaved herself onto it. It felt like heaven getting off her feet.

“What’s the problem, Calla?” Dr. Phillips drew his wheeling stool over and drooped his stooped little frame onto it.

Calla described everything she was feeling the best way she could and waited for the doc to prescribe his strongest antibiotics. Instead, those watery gray eyes fixed on her face for several long, uncomfortable seconds before he heaved himself upright and shuffled to a cupboard. Calla watched as bottles, jars, and glass containers of cotton swaps and tongue depressors were shifted around.

“How long have you been feelings like this?” he asked, still rummaging.

Calla had to really rack her brain to recall. “A week? Roughly?”

Whatever he was looking for didn’t seem to be in that cupboard. He moved to the next one. He found it immediately with a triumphant ha! Calla watched as he ambled back to her with a small, white packet no bigger than a condom wrapper. He regained his stool and fixed his gaze on her face once more.

“How are you otherwise, Calla?”

Calla’s eyebrows drew low over her eyes in confusion. “What? Fine. I’m fine.”

“How are things with Jared?”

She shrugged. “Fine.”

“And the shop?”

A nerve was beginning to twitch behind her eye, but she nodded. “Also fine.” She chuckled uneasily. “Are you going to tell me I need to write up a will?”

Dr. Phillips laughed. “No, no, not at all.” Still smiling, he lifted his head and watched her with almost fatherly eyes. “Has your mother ever told you about the morning she was sitting right there talking to me about the same symptoms you’re experiencing? I swear it feels like just yesterday.”

The confusion was still dominant, but there was something just underneath it, something cold and fierce and paralyzing.

“What?”

Rather than answer her squeak, Dr. Phillips opened his hand to reveal the packet. “I want to run some tests.”

Twenty-nine minutes.

That was all it took for Calla’s entire life to get flipped upside down.

Twenty-nine minutes for a stupid piece of plastic to tell her what she should have known, what she should have recognized weeks ago. Twenty-nine minutes for Calla’s whole world to shatter and tinkle to the ground in tiny, red pieces.

“Are you sure?”

Dr. Phillips laughed. “I am very sure.”

Calla glanced at the eight tests lying discarded at the bottom of the garbage and knew there was no point trying again. Yet the biggest shock was that she hadn’t known. She should have. The signs had all been there.

“How long?” she choked out.

Dr. Phillips adjusted his glasses and squinted at his notes. “If you’re correct about your last cycle, I’d say about two months.”

Two months.

She sucked in a breath. It lodged in her throat and she coughed.

“Calla…”

She shook her head and warded him back. “I’m okay. I just … I need to…”

“Let me get your mother.”

Her mother was there before Calla could tell the man she needed a few more minutes. Her comforting arms went around Calla as it used to when she was a little girl and had a bad day at school.

“You okay?”

No.

“Calla? What did the doctor say?”

Rather than put words to the nightmare she’d been thrust into, Calla slid off the bench and ambled unsteadily to the door. It wasn’t until someone had settled her coat around her shoulders that she remembered she wasn’t wearing it.

Outside, the cold afternoon slapped against her clammy cheeks. The sting almost felt good as she closed her eyes and tried not to break to pieces.

“Calla!” Her mother shook her. “Calla, talk to me.”

“I … I need to be alone.” Even her voice sounded listless and dead.

Her mother blinked. “Alone? Why do you … Calla, stop!” She grabbed Calla’s sleeve when she started walking again. “What is it?”

“Calla!” Another voice, deep, male and so painfully familiar cut through the street. Jared sprinted across the road, waving at a man in a blue pickup that he cut off and jogged straight up to them. “What happened?”

Calla looked at her mother, oddly betrayed. “You called him?”

Her mother stared back at her, bemused. “He’s your husband, Calla. He has a right to know something’s wrong.”

“No, he doesn’t.” Calla backed away from both of them. “This has nothing to do with him. You shouldn’t be here!”

Jared and her mother exchanged concerned glances.

“Baby, talk to me.” Jared took a step towards her that made her take a step back in retreat. “What is it?”

“No.” She shook her head. “No, I don’t want you here. Neither of you. I just want to be alone.”

“Calla, what is going on?” her mother demanded. “Talk to us!”

She couldn’t breathe. Everything kept going in and out of focus. Tears, terror, and disbelief roared between her ears like a fighter jet. It slammed into her chest.

“I can’t do this again,” she panted. “I can’t … not again!”

“Again? Do what again?” Jared grabbed for her, but she wrenched out of his reach. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t touch me!” Tears slid down her cheeks, burning her skin every time the wind shifted. “I can’t do this. I can’t…”

“Calla, just stop for a second and calm down.” Her mother took a cautious step towards her, hands up like she was approaching a frightened dog. “Talk to me, okay? Come here. I promise I’ll fix whatever it is.”

“You can’t fix this!”

“All right, come on now.” Jared grabbed her before she could dodge him. “Now, you’re not going nowhere and neither are we until you tell us what’s going on.”

It was anyone’s guess how they wound up at Jared’s apartment. She had a vague recollection of being gathered up in his arms and the next moment, warmth was chasing away the chill settling into her bones. She was bundled up in a blanket and shoved onto the sofa. Her mother stayed with her, rubbing her arms and legs like she were a little girl who’d spent the day playing out in the snow and needed to warm up.

Calla didn’t fight it. She sat curled up with her knees drawn to her chest and her head pillowed on the back of the sofa. She kept her eyes closed, hoping they’d leave her alone if she played dead.

No such luck. They were adamant to fix the unfixable. It infuriated her, while at the same time, consumed her in guilt and self-loathing.

“Calla.” Gentle fingers brushed back her hair and swept the strands behind her ear. “You’re scaring me.”

A knock on the apartment door saved her from having to answer. Jared rose off the coffee table and went to answer it as her mother stayed with her.

“It’s probably your dad,” she said, as though that was reassuring.

Sure enough, her dad hurried in after Jared, tearing off his scarf and ripping open his coat.

“Calla?” He slid around her mother and perched on the edge of the coffee table, taking Jared’s place. “What happened?”

The need to tell them was killing her. She could literally feel herself dying inside. But the more she tried to force the words out, the tighter the noose around her neck became.

A second knock broke through the apartment.

“It’s open!” Jared called out without moving from his place just over her mother’s shoulder.

The door burst open and Willa barreled in with Damon’s hand still gripped tightly in hers. She let go as she scrambled onto the sofa by Calla’s feet, her eyes wide and wet.

“What’s wrong?” she demanded. “Are you okay? Mom called and said you were at the doctors and something was wrong … what’s wrong?”

Hot, burning tears welled behind Calla’s eyes. She bit her lip until she tasted blood, but that didn’t stop the tears from falling.

“I just want to be alone,” Calla whispered. “Please.”

Her mother touched her knee. “You have family, Calla. Alone isn’t an option.”

But in this nightmare, she was alone and there was nothing she could possibly tell them that would make what she did okay. Yet she knew she had to tell them something. They wouldn’t let it go otherwise. But aside from that, there was no hiding something like this and if anyone should know first, it was Jared.

“Can I talk to Jared first?” she asked. “I promise to tell everyone, but I need…”

Her mother squeezed her knee. “Of course, sweetheart. We’ll wait in the kitchen—”

Calla shook her head. “Can we talk at Christmas dinner this weekend, please?”

“Calla, that’s three days away,” her father protested.

“I know. Please.”

Her mother and father exchanged glances. Then they both looked at her. They must have seen she wasn’t going to budge.

“Okay…” Her mother rose and turned to Jared. “Let us know if there’s anything we can do.”

Jared only nodded.

He walked her parents to the door. Willa stayed, and because of her, Damon stayed.

“What is it?” Willa demanded. “You can tell me. I promise I won’t tell anyone, but I won’t be able to sleep the next three days.”

It wasn’t a lie. It wasn’t as though her sister was a doormat, but she had one of those soft, kind hearts that was openly and freely given to anyone and everyone. She had always been the one to cry at the sight of an injured animal. The first one to laugh at a joke even though it wasn’t funny, just because she didn’t want to hurt the person’s feelings. She would give the clothes off her back to her enemy rather than let them suffer without. Not knowing what was wrong would eat at her, but Calla knew not being able to fix it would be worse.

“I’ll call you tonight,” she murmured. “I promise.”

Willa looked like she was ready to argue, but she nodded reluctantly and climbed off the sofa. She peered down at Calla, her blue eyes dark with concern.

“But you’re okay?”

Calla tried to nod. “I will be.”

Willa continued to hesitate, even as her hand reached away from her body in search of Damon’s. Her fingers were captured.

“Call me, okay?”

Calla promised again she would.

The two left. She heard the front door click shut behind the people she loved and she was alone with a man she had done nothing right with.

He walked back into the room and sat in the place of her mother.

“Talk to me, Calla.”

Such a simple, reasonable request. But she had been through this song and dance before and memories of it still haunted her. And while she told herself it wasn’t the same, she couldn’t help hesitating.

“We really fucked up,” she whispered at last. “Our whole relationship is just one giant mess. We did nothing right.”

He frowned at her. “What do you mean? I thought things were going great.”

And they had been. The last two months had been some of the best she’d had in over a year. Jared was everything any rational girl could possibly want. He was attentive, loyal, funny, caring, an incredible lover, and he made her feel safe. More than that, he treated her like she was his only reason for living. She hated herself for not being what he deserved.

“I’m pregnant.”

There. She said it. It was out there, in his hands to do with what he wanted. It was no longer her responsibility alone.

He stared at her with a slack-jawed expression that would have been hilarious any other time.

“With a baby?”

Calla blinked, then frowned. “No, with an enchilada. Yes, with a baby,” she muttered when he continued to stare at her.

He blinked a few times, like if he did it enough, the facts would register faster.

“What? How?” he blurted stupidly. “No, wait … I know that answer. When?”

“The wedding, I’m guessing,” she replied. “Or the morning after. Dr. Phillips said I’m about two months, so…”

“Jesus, a baby…” He rubbed a hand over his face. “A baby.” A chuckle followed. Then another, louder. “That’s amazing!” He turned shining gray eyes to her. “You’re happy about that, right?” The smile slipped off his face. “You want it, don’t you?”

Calla searched his eyes carefully, before answering, “Yes…”

“But?” he pressed.

She shook her head. “No buts.”

“Then why aren’t you happy?”

She drew the blanket closer around herself. “I wasn’t sure you would be.”

Jared stared, his brows furrowed. “You thought I wouldn’t want our baby?”

Her gaze averted from his. “Like I said, we haven’t done anything right…”

“Are you kidding?” he blurted. “We made a baby, Calla. A baby! What’s more right than that? I am so happy right now I don’t know if I want to cry or scream.”

She hadn’t realized how much she had needed to hear those words from him until they rang through the apartment. The walls around her burst in a wave of sobs that seized her entire body in a fit of tremors. Jared’s arms were there, gathering her up, blanket and all and pulling her into his lap.

He chuckled lightly, but with uncertainty into the top of her head. “I don’t know if those are tears of joy, or…”

Calla gasped around a sob and a wheeze. Her fingers ached in their death grip on the blanket.

“Talk to me, Calla,” he murmured. “Tell me what’s wrong. Don’t,” he warned when she started to shake her head. “You say you’re happy and want the baby, but you’re acting like this is the worst thing that’s ever happened to you.”

“It’s not,” she choked out. “It shouldn’t be.”

“But it is?”

She shook her head. “You don’t understand.”

His arms tightened around her. “Then tell me. Tell me why you said again.”

Calla squeezed her eyes closed tight and struggled not to throw up. The nausea had nothing to do with her pregnancy and everything to do with her nerves.

“His name was Richard,” she whispered into the wad of blanket she’d stuffed against her mouth. “I met him during a very dark and lonely time in my life.” She lowered the blanket and stared at the dizzying pattern. “I was eighteen and away from home for the first time, and all I wanted was to come back. I hated it there. It felt like everyone knew each other and I was the odd man out. It was only six hours away, but most days it felt like another country. Richard came up to me one day while I was reading on a park bench. He said it was a shame I was all alone on such a beautiful afternoon. I told him I was new and he said that was no excuse. He sat with me and we talked. He was older … much older, but he was charming and handsome and he made me laugh. For the first time in what felt like forever, I didn’t feel so completely isolated.

For weeks, we met on that park bench and just talked. He told me he’d just broken up with his longtime girlfriend because they had wanted different things in life. He told me he owned his own marketing business and traveled a lot and I assumed that was why his girlfriend had left him. He didn’t officially ask me out until the second month.

It was amazing. He was amazing. I fell in love with him. Hard. He said he loved me back and I think he meant it. I thought he meant it,” she corrected absently. “Maybe he did in his own way.” She broke off and shook her head. “We saw each other for two years…” The familiar wedge of serrated pain lodged in her chest and her breathing quickened as she tried to speak around it. “I thought everything was perfect. I thought we were happy, so when I found out … when I found out…” She rubbed a shaky hand over her mouth. “I found out I was pregnant.” She gasped like she had finally spat out the thing choking her. Tears quickly followed and still she refused to look up at the room, at him. “I thought he’d be thrilled.” She laughed and it came out in a sob. “He wasn’t. He was furious. He asked how I could let that happen. Why hadn’t I taken better care? That was my responsibility. I was dumbfounded. I was crushed. I couldn’t believe…”

“Calla.”

It was only when he’d spoken her name that she realized just how hard she was shaking. She ignored it, needing to get it all out now that she was finally purging her soul.

“He told me to deal with it. That if I wanted to stay with him, then I would need to … to take care of it. It. He said he already had a wife and child and didn’t need another one. That that wasn’t my role.”

“Son of a bitch!” Jared’s vicious curse went straight past her unnoticed.

“I told him to leave. That I would be fine. I wouldn’t pick him over my baby. I made plans to take the week off and come home, to tell my mom and dad. I had already accepted that I would live the rest of my life with this tiny person inside me…” She mashed her lips together, took a deep breath. “But I was so angry. I was blinded by it. I hated him. I hated myself for being so naive. How could I have let this happen for two years? How dare he use me like that? All I wanted was revenge.” The familiar wave of her rage washed over her as white hot as it had been a year ago. “I wanted to make him suffer, because that was the sort of person the old Calla McClain was. She was rash and hotheaded. She was selfish. And the more I thought about him, the more I wanted him to pay.

I tracked down his wife. It wasn’t as hard as I imagined. He had told me enough about his life that it only took me twenty minutes to find her address. I drove out to see her and spent an hour outside her house, debating my decision. What the hell was I going to tell this woman? Did she know? What if she was in the dark like me? Richard had been so good at lying that for two years, I never once questioned anything he did. Then I realized it was because he never lied. He phoned when he said he would. He came home when he said he would. He was exactly where he said he would be. He never gave me a reason to doubt him. I never had a reason to think I wasn’t the only one. What if his wife was the same?

But I didn’t care. I had this idiotic notion in my head that we would band together and ruin him. I wanted to wave my wrath in his smug little face; no one messed with Calla McClain and got away with it.

Then a little girl ran out. She was maybe nine. She saw me standing in the middle of their walkway and called her mother before I could say anything. Mariana. That was his wife’s name. Sofi was the little girl. She invited me inside their beautiful home filled with pictures of Richard and his family, smiling and happy. My baby would never have that. He, or she would never know their father, because he was a lying, cheating dirt bag. I told Mariana I was pregnant. I told her about my two year affair with her husband and that I had no idea he’d been married the whole time. I told her I sent him away. That it was over. And all that time, she just stood there, looking at me. Finally, she stopped me and said, why are you telling me this? I thought maybe she thought I was lying, or playing a joke on her. Then she says, didn’t Richard tell you I don’t want to know? I was horrified. She knew. There I was, thinking she was a victim, when she just didn’t care.”

“Where’s the baby?”

Wiping her eyes, Calla continued, ignoring Jared’s quiet question.

“By that time I was twelve weeks along and hadn’t seen Richard since I sent him away. I was walking to my dorm when he found me. He demanded to know why I went to his house. That I shouldn’t have done that. I told him I thought she had a right to know what a cheating bastard her husband was. We argued … badly. I tried to walk away, but he grabbed me. We were standing over these stairs that lead down to the park between the university and the dorms. I lashed out and his grip slipped.”

“Jesus!”

“It was only ten steps,” Calla went on, feeling dead and empty. “I was fine. I got up and walked home.” The tears fell in a steady trickle without end. “I woke up that night in the worst pain imaginable. I thought I was dying. There was blood everywhere. I called Richard. I was scared and alone and I just needed someone. He actually came and took me to the hospital. He stayed with me the whole night. But there was … it was too late. They couldn’t do anything. I lost the baby.” A sob hiccupped out of her. “Four months of feeling this little thing growing inside me and it was just gone. Just … gone. I was devastated. I felt like a part of me had died along with it. The nurse tried to assure me that I was only twenty years old, healthy enough to have more. I wanted to punch her. Richard took me home. He said to call him the next day for coffee. Now that the problem was solved, there was no reason why we couldn’t continue on as we had been. I did punch him. Then I told him never to come near me again. That we were done. I packed my things a week later and I came home.”

Jared said nothing. His silence cut through her, but she still couldn’t bring herself to look up at him. He was now the owner of her darkest secret and it was about to become a defining moment in their entire relationship. What he said next, what he did next would determine everything.

“I want our baby,” he murmured at long last. “I still want you.”

She did tip her head back this time to meet his gaze. “Even after everything I just told you?”

His eyes narrowed. “What part of that was supposed to make me turn away? Because the only thing I want to do is find that son of a bitch and beat the ever loving fuck out of him.”

She shook her head. “But do you see why I can’t be that girl you used to know? It was her fault I don’t have my baby anymore.”

“No!” he cut in sharply. “It’s that asshole’s fault he grabbed you. Who the fuck grabs a pregnant woman?”

She shook her head harder. “But if I never went to see his wife, he wouldn’t have come looking for me. It was my arrogance and that self-righteous attitude that ruined my life. I only cared about myself and my wounded pride. I should have focused on raising my kid. Instead I was a selfish idiot and I paid for it.”

“But I still love you.” He touched her upturned face lightly with his fingertips. “This Calla, the old Calla, and whatever Calla you’ll be in the future. I love you and I will always love you. None of this changes my mind, or lessens my feelings. I’m ready to go the whole nine yards with you, baby.” He kissed her lovingly and Calla melted against him, feeling abnormally weightless and free. He drew away all too soon and grinned down at her. “So, when can we start telling people?”

They spent the next three days in his apartment, curled up in his bed, talking about what they would do. They both knew their apartments weren’t big enough to raise a baby. They also knew, that while it was still early in the game, decisions needed to be made and actions had to be taken because time would eventually get the better of them and they’d be left floundering at the last minute. And the whole time, not once did he ever stop touching her. He couldn’t seem to be able to help himself and she never stopped him.

His excitement made every moment feel precious. It made her feel precious. Whenever talk of baby preparations came up, his eyes would light up and he’d drop everything to sit with her. Compared to her first pregnancy, it was a huge change and Calla couldn’t remember ever feeling so utterly happy.

Yet despite that, she felt light, like unburdening her guilt had purged her of the weight she’d been carting around the last year. Even when she drew in a breath, there was nothing on her chest to shorten it. She still felt the pain of losing one baby and she knew that would never go away, but it no longer felt like a dark secret shackled to her throat, but a tragic memory.

“George.”

Blinking away from the white landscape of snow rolling past her window, Calla turned to the man in the driver’s seat. “What?”

“George,” he repeated. “I’ve always wanted a son named George.”

“George?” she mumbled slowly.

Jared grinned. “Yeah, we can call him Georgie for short.”

“Georgie is actually longer than George,” she pointed out “And Georgia May would love to have our son named after her, especially since she’s been telling everyone and their mothers that she singlehandedly saved me when I got sick in the store. The way she tells it, I was practically dying.”

He visible recoiled. “Why would you do that? Why would you taint my favorite name?”

Calla laughed.

“Sam,” he volunteered next.

“No.”

“Why? What’s wrong with Sam?”

“It’s too … Sam.”

Jared threw one hand up off the wheel. “That’s not even a very valid reason.”

“I’m not calling my kid Sam,” she muttered, still chuckling.

“Daniel.”

She considered that one a moment. “Maybe.”

He was still throwing baby names at her when they turned off the main road and headed towards her dad and Beth’s house. The Christmas presents in the back rustled in their bags. One slipped out and hit the floor of the car with a concerning crunch. Calla cursed and glanced back.

“Leave it,” Jared said. “I’ll grab it when we stop.”

“Yeah, but what if it was that fire blown figurine I got Willa? I don’t want it to break if something else falls on top of it.”

Unhitching her belt, she twisted her body over the console and tried to reach for the silver wrapped box beneath Jared’s chair.

“Baby, just leave it.”

“I almost have it!”

Her fingers slipped off the corner of the box. She wiggled higher in her chair and made a half lunge for it.

“Calla…”

The hunk of ice hidden beneath a discreet powdering of snow seemingly came out of nowhere. It caught beneath the tire and jerked the entire truck to the right. Jared caught the wheel and wrenched, trying to remain in control and on the road. The back end gave a violent fishtail, throwing Calla back into her seat. Her head rebounded off the window with a dull thud that barely registered as the truck skid off the shoulder and came to a crunching nosedive into the ditch. It all happened so fast that by the time Calla caught her breath, it was over. The world had stopped moving and the only sound came from their heavy breathing and the hum of the engine.

“Calla?” Jared yanked off his belt and scrambled for her, closing his fists in her jacket and wrenching her towards him. “Are you hurt?”

Trembling, Calla struggled to control her breathing. “No…” She moistened her lips. “I’m okay.” She turned her head to him. “Are you?”

Expelling a breath, Jared nodded. He fisted a hand back through his hair and dropped back into his seat. His gray eyes took in the dark wall of snow climbing over the hood of the car to spread across the windshield.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” His attention was back on her.

Calla nodded. “Yeah, I think I’m more shaken than anything else.”

He looked her over. “I think I should take you to the hospital.”

“What?” she exclaimed. “On Christmas? Are you crazy? My family will freak.”

“I don’t care. I want you looked at.”

“I’m fine!” she promised. “Seriously. We weren’t even going that fast so it was barely a bump. Besides, we’re almost there.”

“The baby—”

“Is also fine,” she assured him as she pulled the belt back into place over her lap.

His face only seemed to tighten further. “You thought that last time.”

Just like that, every ounce of happiness deflated to nothing. It settled like a rock in the pit of her stomach like an angry fist.

“Calla…”

She shook her head. “I don’t need you to remind me what happened last time, Jared.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.”

She turned her face towards her window. “I’m not spending Christmas at the hospital. Trust me, if something was wrong, there’s nothing they can do anyway.”

In the glass, she saw his hand extend towards her, but he stopped himself at the last second and drew away. She was almost relieved.

He put the truck into reverse and propelled them backwards out of the hole. The engine growled in effort and the tires skid a few times, but they broke free and were on the road once more. The windshield wipers swept the snow off the windshield and they continued down the road, void of their earlier cheerfulness.

They hadn’t told either of their families about the baby, not even Willa, who Calla had phoned after her talk with Jared. The relief and happiness in Calla’s voice as she told her sister everything was fine must have been enough to calm some of her concern. But now Calla wasn’t even sure they should tell anyone. All she could think was what if she lost the baby again? It would be her fault. Why hadn’t she just left the stupid present? They’d nearly been to her dad’s place. She could have checked then. In the scheme of things, a broken figurine didn’t seem nearly as important anymore. What was worse? Jared would hate her, not nearly as much as she would hate herself, but enough to fully destroy her.

In the driveway of her father’s house, Jared pulled to a stop. Without a word, he climbed out of the truck and ambled around the hood to her side. He yanked open her door and offered her a hand down. But he held on even after her feet touched the ground. She was drawn into his arms, into the warm material of his coat.

“It’s going to be okay,” he promised into her temple.

“What if—”

His arms tightened. “It’s going to be okay,” he repeated more firmly. “No matter what.”

Hearing him say it only diminished her anxiety by a mere fraction. She wouldn’t fully relax until that baby was born. If.

No.

She closed her eyes tight and pressed closer to Jared.

No ifs. She would be okay. She had to believe that.

Her chin was lifted by his gentle finger. Her gaze was caught by his.

“Smile for me.”

“Jared, I don’t—”

“Smile!”

No matter how tight her chest was, Calla chuckled. “Stop that.”

Grinning, he kissed her lightly before drawing back. He shut her door and reached into the back to get their gifts. Calla left him to it and made her way to the front door. The truck door slammed and a moment later, Jared’s footsteps echoed behind her.

The front door flew open before she could even reach the doorknob. Her mother smiled at her from the threshold, her cheeks the same bright pink as her sweater.

“Hey, you made it!”

Calla chuckled. “Yeah, we had a bit of an accident, but—”

The smile instantly vanished. “What kind of accident?” Her gaze jumped from Calla to Jared and back. “Are you all right?”

“We’re fine,” Calla told her quickly. “It was nothing.”

“But you’re okay?” her mother pressed, edging back to let them into the warmth of the foyer.

Brilliant strings of light illuminated the entire house in a soft, white gold that was accented by ropes of garland, bows and silver streamers. The radio was on and O’ Holy Night crooned through the air. Laughter and chatter echoed from the sitting room and Calla couldn’t wait to see the others.

“Yes.” She chuckled and leaned in to kiss her mother on the cheek. “We’re fine.”

Relieved, she closed the door behind them and turned her attention on Jared.

“I invited your parents, but they unfortunately couldn’t make it.”

Jared nodded. “They go see my aunts up in Vernon on Christmas.”

“Hopefully next year, they can join us,” she went on with an apologetic smile.

“I’ll make sure they do.” He promised, making her chuckle. “Where can I put these?”

He held up the gifts Calla had spent the better part of two weeks wrapping. He had offered to help, but after snapping at him that he hadn’t folded the corners properly, he’d surrendered the job to her.

Her mother started to answer, started to point him in the direction of the tree when a knock sounded from behind them that had everyone frowning.

“Everyone’s here…” her mother mumbled to herself.

“I’ll get it,” Calla offered, already turning.

Her fingers closed around the knob and she wrenched the door open. A figure stood on the porch, bathed in the pale blue of settling twilight. The lights from the hallway behind her shone over magnetic hazel eyes and danced lazily along the elegant contours of a familiar face.

“Hello Calla.”

Calla staggered back into Jared. “Richard?”

Chapter Twelve ~ Jared

The bastard smiled at Calla like he had some kind of sick right. His hazel eyes were framed by thick lashes and lines that crinkled charmingly. He was good looking in an older guy kind of way. His dark hair was elegantly trimmed and neatly combed back from a square face that was mapped with sharp cheekbones, a full mouth and a strong jaw. There were hints of gray at his temple, yet that only made him appear distinguished and handsome. He couldn’t have been more than forty, but he reeked of sophistication and money. Jared could see how an eighteen year old girl, alone and vulnerable, would fall for his lies.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” The words burst out of him before he could control himself.

“Jared!” Lily gasped, horrified.

Richard seemed unfazed by the outburst. His gaze never shifted away from Calla, who hadn’t moved from her rigid stance against Jared.

“What are you doing here?” she barely managed to hiss around her stiff lips. “I told you I didn’t ever want to see you again.”

Richard nodded. “I know, but I needed to see you.”

“Why?” she growled. “You have no right to show your face after everything you’ve done.”

He raised his hands. “Just let me explain.”

“How did you find me?”

There was an almost sheepish twinkle in his eyes when he answered, “You used to tell me about your home all the time. I knew this place before I even got here.” He glanced down and chuckled. “Okay, that isn’t entirely true. I came across your website when I searched for your name.”

Calla recoiled. “You searched … why would you do that?”

He looked up at her. “I wanted to see how you were. I missed you.”

The gifts were dumped unceremoniously to the ground and Jared had the fucker by the collar, jerking him forward until they were nose to nose.

“Keep talking,” he hissed. “You’ll be missing your teeth next.”

“Hey!” Sloan appeared out of nowhere and grabbed Jared.

Cole came up behind his brother. “What the hell is going on here?”

“Leave,” Calla said tightly to Richard. “You don’t belong here. I don’t want to see you.”

“Who is this guy?” her dad demanded.

“He’s a sick pervert who preys on young girls for his own twisted pleasure,” Jared snarled.

He shoved out of Sloan’s hold and lunged for Richard again, but Sloan was faster.

“Someone better tell me what the hell is going on!” Cole growled, taking a step towards the intruder.

“Stop.” Calla said with far more calm than Jared felt. “You need to leave, Richard. Now, before they murder you and I let them.”

No one looked like they were ready to let Richard go, not until questions had been answered. But Jared also knew that no one would actually kill him, except, well, maybe Jared himself.

The bastard didn’t move. “If you would just give me a moment to explain—”

“There is nothing you can possibly say that will ever change my mind about you,” Calla murmured. “The fact that you would just show up at my family’s home after everything you did…”

“I called,” he protested.

Calla frowned. “When?”

Richard had the decency to drop his gaze. “I hung up when you answered, because I realized what I have to tell you can’t be said over the phone.” He pushed on when Calla said nothing. “I only want five minutes of your time. If you still feel like you want nothing to do with me, then I will go and never again darken your doorway.”

Calla’s eyes narrowed. “I wouldn’t give you five seconds of my time, Richard. You had that chance a year ago, but you ruined it.”

Richard’s hazel gaze darted past her to the figures of Calla’s entire family before focusing on the blonde in front of him. He said something. It was too low for anyone but Calla to hear. But Calla’s head jerked back like he’d struck her. Her eyes narrowed, but not with anger.

With concern.

“What?”

A corner of his mouth quirked in a humorless little grin and for the first time, he seemed older, worn and tired.

“You’re my last act of penance, buttercup. Just give me five minutes.”

Jared expected Calla to tell the guy to jump off a cliff, to rot in hell. Instead, she nodded and followed him out onto the porch. Every muscle in his body tightened in rage and betrayal. He couldn’t believe she would just succumb after everything the douchebag had done to her. How could she so easily forgive him?

“What’s going on?” Sloan’s barking demand brought Jared back to the present and the small crowd waiting for an explanation, one Jared didn’t have.

What was he supposed to say: oh just wait a second while my wife talks to her ex-lover?

Thankfully, he didn’t have to. The door opened and Calla returned, her face pale and drawn. Her blue gaze met his and the exhaustion in them momentarily overshadowed his anger.

“What happened?”

The door shut behind her with a soft click.

“Can someone tell us what just happened?” Cole cut in before Calla could answer.

Calla drew in a deep breath. “There’s something I need to tell everyone.”

They moved to the sitting room. Jared left the gifts where he’d dropped them and followed. He wasn’t sure what Calla was going to tell them, but he tried to brace himself for it.

“I met Richard three years ago,” she began slowly and went on to tell everyone the story of her two year relationship with the guy.

She talked to her hands for most of it, the ground for the rest, her back steadily, gradually bending until she was nearly stooped in two. By the end, no one was moving. No one even spoke. Everyone stared at her with a mixture of horror and rage. It was nothing she hadn’t already told Jared, and yet, hearing it a second time was even harder than hearing it the first time.

He hated that she’d been hurt. He hated that there was nothing he could do to make that pain go away for her. He hated that she carried it with her and blamed herself for something that was completely out of her control. He hated that asshole for making her face it yet again. But more than anything, he hated that he had no idea what Richard had told her on the porch and what it could possibly mean for Jared and Calla. He hated not knowing.

“Oh my poor baby girl!” Quietly crying, Lily hurried out of her seat and dropped into the spot next to Calla. She dragged her daughter into her arms and held her tight. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

Calla laughed weakly. “Tell you what? That I had an affair with a married man for two years, got pregnant and then couldn’t even keep my baby? How would I even work that into a conversation?” She shook her head. “I wanted to forget. I opened the shop so I would have something to distract me. I never wanted to think about what I’d done.”

Her mother jerked away. “What you’d done? What did you do?”

“Two years,” Calla snapped. “I was with him for two years. What idiot doesn’t realize what kind of man they’re with after two years? I was his mistress. I helped him cheat on his wife. For two years. I was so blinded by his attention that I couldn’t see that something was wrong. I never questioned … anything. And because of my selfish idiocy, I lost my baby.”

She was breathing hard and staring even harder at her mother, willing her to make that better. But Lily didn’t seem to have anything comforting to say any more than anyone else did.

Calla rose and excused herself. No one moved as the sound of her heels echoed down the hall and faded with the quiet click of the bathroom door shutting.

It was not a Christmas any of them wanted to remember. After Richard’s departure and Calla’s heartbreaking confession, the whole house seemed to fall into an eerie shadow tinged with sorrow. Jared didn’t know what to say. Part of him wasn’t sure there was anything to say.

Around the room, no one was laughing. Beth had moved to sit next to Lily after Calla had excused herself to use the washroom. Cole stood at the window, staring out at the yard with a stiffness in his shoulder that barely concealed his fury. Sloan was on the sofa, slumped forward with his hands folded between his knees. Jared wasn’t sure, but Damon might have pulled Willa into the kitchen when she’d burst into tears and Toby sat in a quiet huddle in the armchair. But none of them mattered in that moment. The only person Jared could think about was the woman he’d sworn to himself to love and protect. And he didn’t know how the hell to help her.

“Did you know any of this?” Lily was watching him, her eyes oddly bright in the firelight.

Jared nodded slightly. “She told me the other day.”

That only seemed to upset her all the more. Her chin quivered and she quickly covered it with her hand.

“She was living with that this whole time?”

“Lily.” Beth put her arms around the other woman and pulled her in close.

“I’m her mother. I’m supposed to be there for her. I’m supposed to protect her.”

“You couldn’t have known,” Beth whispered.

“But I did know,” Lily protested. “I knew something was wrong when she came back. I could feel it. I just … I didn’t know…” Teardrops glittered sliding down her pale cheeks. “Why didn’t she tell me?”

“Because there was nothing anyone could have done.” Calla was back. She stood in the doorway, looking drawn and pale. She stepped deeper into the room by a foot and stopped to regard the faces peering back at her. “This doesn’t change anything.”

Lily bristled. “What do you mean it doesn’t change anything? It changes everything!”

“No, it doesn’t,” Calla replied evenly. “Richard’s out of my life and has been for over a year. That won’t ever change. The baby’s gone. It’s never coming back. It took me a long time to get past that, but I have to.”

Willa hurried into the room, possibly drawn by Calla’s voice. Her face crumpled and she burst into tears even before her arms flung around Calla’s neck. Calla held her back, but kept her eyes on their mom.

“I didn’t tell you so you could fix it,” she said softly. “There’s nothing left to fix. I told you because you deserved an explanation, and maybe because I really needed to finally tell someone. And you listened. There’s nothing much else anyone can do.”

Lily untangled herself from Beth and went to her daughters. She pulled them both into her arms and held them like she used to when they were children. Only, they no longer reached her abdomen, and in Calla’s case, actually towered over her by a few inches.

“You’ll always be my baby girls,” she told them. “Don’t either of you ever keep something like this from me again. Do you understand?”

Both nodded and clung back to her.

Sniffling, Lily drew back, wiping her eyes. She looked at Calla. “I’m proud of you.” She wiped Willa’s cheeks. “Both of you, and there isn’t a damn thing either of you can do that will ever change that.”

“It’s my fault,” Willa whispered. “I should have come up to see you more, or called you more, or—”

“Shut up!” Calla teased her fondly. “I practically lived on the phone with you.”

Lily nodded. “It’s true. My phone bill can attest to that.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me about him?” Willa cried. “If we talked so much then … why?”

Calla grimaced. “Embarrassment? He was older and I knew you’d all thinks he was using me, which, I guess, you would have been right.” She looked down at her feet. “I’d hoped to bring him home so you could meet him in person. I thought maybe if you met him, you’d see what an amazing guy he was and the age thing wouldn’t matter. But every time I made plans to come up with him, he’d cancel, or something would come up and we’d reschedule. It’s all things I didn’t notice until after, which probably makes me the stupidest person on the planet.”

“Not stupid,” Sloan mumbled, speaking for the first time. “You were young and vulnerable. He was the adult. He should have known better.”

“I can’t believe I let that mother fucker live,” Cole snarled, back still to the room.

“I’m sorry I ruined Christmas,” Calla whispered. “This wasn’t how I wanted any of you to find out.”

“Oh, baby.” Beth rose and hurried over to enfold Calla in her arms. “This isn’t your fault, and Christmas is not ruined. I made chocolate pie. It’ll make everything better.”

Calla chuckled and wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater. “You do make an amazing chocolate pie.”

“Actually,” Jared interrupted. “We have some news.”

All eyes went to Jared. Even Calla’s, who seemed to know exactly what he was about to say and lost whatever shred of color she had remaining in her cheeks.

“Jared…”

He ignored her apprehension. “We’re having a baby.”

The room went from dead silent to an explosion of joy in under thirty seconds. Feet hit hardwood as everyone moved to engulf Calla. Jared stayed where he was, letting her bathe in the light that had chased away the chill.

“That right there made my whole Christmas,” Beth cried, squeezing the life out of Calla. “I am so happy for you both.”

Half laughing, half crying, Calla held her back before getting pulled away by Sloan. He said something into her ear that made her lip quiver before she buried her face into his shoulder and shook her head. He kissed the side of her head and stepped back as Cole took his place. She smiled at him and he gathered her up tight.

“We need drinks!” Lily announced.

Wiping her eyes, Beth laughed. “I can get behind that.”

Beaming, cheeks red with happiness and wet with tears, Lily took Willa’s hand. “Come help in the kitchen. Calla, you sit down. Sloan, can you help with the table, please?”

Just like that, the shadow was gone and Christmas was a bright glow again. The house was filled with the sound of laughter and excitement. The light had returned to Calla’s eyes, the one he remembered growing up. She seemed lighter, happier, and beautiful in a way that took his breath away. Nothing in her past made a lick of difference to him. He loved this woman and nothing was ever going to change that.

As though sensing his eyes, she turned to him. He motioned her over and took her hand when she was close enough. He kissed the inside of her wrist before pulling her down into his lap.

“Tell me you’re still mine,” he whispered into her ear. “Tell me that asshole wasn’t here to take you away from me.”

The fire warmed her eyes as they peered unblinkingly into his. “No one’s taking me anywhere.”

“Love me?”

Her smile was breathtaking. “Always.”

It was three in the morning when Jared jolted awake. For a moment, he lay there in the dark silence, mind still half asleep as he tried to pinpoint the cause. His hand slid across the expense, searching for Calla and felt nothing by cool fabric that ended in a large pool of sticky dampness.

He was instantly alert.

“Calla?” Sheets rustled as he pushed himself up. His free hand scrambled for the lamp and flicked it on. “Calla?”

The space next to him was empty save for the bright, red stain marring the place she normally slept. Every shred of rational thought fled his mind as a cold lump of dread seized his soul.

“Calla!”

Heart a wild mess of panic, he threw himself from the bed.

His apartment was dark and too quiet. For one desperate moment, he thought maybe she’d gone to the hospital without him, but he knew she wouldn’t. She wouldn’t do that to him.

“Calla!”

A choked sob sent him barreling to the opposite end of the apartment, towards the bathroom. There was no light inside, but the door was open. His hand shook as he reached for the switch.

She sat in the tub, huddled small at the bottom in her shorts and white camisole. Her hair was a tangled mess around her face and she clutched tight to her knees as she rocked ever so slightly.

“Calla?” He took a tentative step deeper into the room. “Baby, what—?”

His foot hit a wet spot and slid out from under him. He struck the ground hard on one knee and fell forward, barely thinking to catch himself with both hands. The sparking pain was nothing to the realization that there was blood smeared across the tiles. So much blood. It seemed like it was everywhere.

“Calla…”

Her sobs grew into heart wrenching wails that were barely muffled by the knees she was forcing against her mouth. Her rocks grew faster and the knuckles fisted into her hair tightened to white, blood stained caps.

“No … no…” He crawled to the edge of the tub, ignoring the bloody handprint staining the edge. “Get up. Calla, get up. We need to get to the hospital.”

Her head twisted violently from side to side. “I can’t! It’s too late.”

“No!” He reached for her, trying to use his numb hands to grab some part of her. “Come on. You need to get up.”

“They won’t do anything. They can’t do anything.”

Frozen with a chill that seemed to be coiling out from the very heart of his soul, Jared heaved himself to his feet. He stared down at his wife and the red streak flowing down the center of the tub into the drain and felt his resolve crumble, felt his world tip a little. His own eyes filled before he caught himself.

“No!”

This wasn’t going to happen.

Leaving her, he charged into the bedroom and threw on the first two things he could find. He grabbed the blanket off the bed and marched back into the bathroom. He ignored her efforts to swat him away and bundled her up.

“It’s not too late until the doctor tells me himself,” he growled as he scooped her up into his arms and hurried from the apartment, not even bothering to lock up.

Calla was a limp, white figure huddled in the seat next to him. She was no longer crying, but her silence was somehow substantially worse. Jared didn’t know what to say to her, didn’t know how to break that fucking silence. He could barely focus enough to keep the car on the road.

At the hospital, he got her into a wheelchair and bolted towards the emergency ward. The nurse behind the desk jumped when he came to a screeching halt in front of her and slapped a hand on the counter.

“We need a doctor!” he shouted at her.

The nurse opened her mouth.

“Jared?”

He whirled around to find Beth standing behind them, a clipboard in one hand, a pen in the other and about six dark circles beneath her eyes. Those same eyes took him in, the blood still on his hands and settled on Calla.

“Calla?” She hurried forward and dropped down in front of the wheelchair. Her hands tore at the blankets. “What happened?” she demanded of Jared, who shook his head.

“She’s bleeding,” was all he could manage without completely falling apart.

“Okay, it’s okay,” Beth told Calla. “You’re going to be okay.” She got quickly to her feet. “Call Dr. Jefferson. If he’s not available, Dr. Murray. I’m taking them to examination room one-twelve.” She reached over the counter. “Give me a chart.”

In moments, Calla was out of the chair and helped onto an examination table. Beth took several vials of blood while rapid-firing questions at Jared that he had to really think to answer. His only focus was how small and broken Calla looked huddled beneath the blankets. She was shivering and staring vacantly at her knees and the longer she sat there, the harder it was for him to keep his shit together.

“I’m going to see where the doctor is,” Beth told them. “Just stay right here, okay?”

Neither said anything when she hurried off and closed the door behind her.

Jared turned to his wife. “Calla…”

“I can’t do this again,” she croaked. “I can’t lose another one. I can’t…” Her face crumpled and her shoulders heaved with the first sob. “I can’t!”

He pulled her into his arms. “You don’t know that that is what’s happening. Everything could be fine.”

“It’s just like last time.”

He didn’t know what to say after that, didn’t know how to console her when he himself was barely holding it together.

“It’ll be okay,” was the best he could do.

The door opened then, but his relief at the doctor finally arriving was short lived when Lily hurried into the room, followed by Sloan, Cole, Willa and Damon. Jared guessed Beth must have called one, or all. But he couldn’t find the sense to be angry. He knew Calla would need her family with her no matter which way the verdict swayed. Plus, he was absolutely no help to her, and as selfish as it was, he needed them, too.

“Mom?”

Jared moved aside as Lily rushed to Calla and dragged her into her arms.

“It’s all right, baby,” Lily whispered. “It’s going to be just fine.”

“No…” Calla croaked. “No, it’s not.”

“It is,” Lily said gently. “We’re here, do you understand? You’re not alone and you’ll get through this.”

“I can’t lose my baby again…”

Lily held her even as Calla’s muffled wails ripped through the room.

Jared stood a few feet away, feeling useless and out of place. He knew he should do something, but he just kept standing there wondering was it really just that morning when they’d told everyone and everything was fine and beautiful? How had that changed in only a mere few hours?

“You okay?”

It took him a moment to realize Cole had moved to stand next to him.

He shook his head. “No.”

Cole said nothing else. He left Jared to take Calla’s other side and gently stroke her hair. Sloan remained by the door, face drawn. Damon stood next to him as Willa joined Lily and Cole. She climbed up next to Calla on the table, but said nothing. Her blue eyes were brimming with tears that she was visibly trying to keep in check.

“Calla?” Beth hurried into the room, chart in hand and the doctor hot on her heels. “This is Dr. Murray. He’s going to look you over.”

Dr. Murray, tall with a head full of gray hair and smiling brown eyes, took one look around the room and chuckled. “I haven’t seen this many people in a room since my wife gave birth to our son.”

Talk of births and sons only tightened the cold knot in Jared’s gut.

“Well, let’s not keep everyone in suspense.” He moved deeper into the room and went straight to Calla. Lily and Cole shifted aside, but Willa remained. The doctor didn’t seem to mind. “I’d like to take some blood—”

“Already did,” Beth piped in. “I had it sent to the lab already, as well.”

Dr. Murray chuckled. “I guess it pays off to have family in the hospital, eh?”

Calla said nothing.

Dr. Murray pursed his lips. His smile slipped, turning his features somber.

“I’m not going to lie to you,” he said. “There is a higher chance of miscarriage at two months, but sometimes, women just bleed. There’s no explanation for either, really. I’ve had women who bleed their entire pregnancy, full periods, while others nothing. It doesn’t mean you did anything, or that this is your fault. Sometimes, it just happens.”

“When will we know?” Jared spoke up, finding his voice at last.

Dr. Murray glanced over at him. “Dad?”

Jared nodded.

“I usually like waiting for the hCG levels results—”

“What’s that?” Jared asked.

“Human chorionic gonadotropin,” Calla whispered, her voice hoarse and barely above a whisper. “It’s hormones that determines if you’re pregnant, or not.”

Dr. Murray nodded. “In a nutshell, yes.” He eyed Calla. “Is this your first pregnancy?”

Calla shook her head. “I had a miscarriage a year ago.”

Sympathy turned the corners of his mouth downward. “I see,” was all he said.

“How long is that going to take?” Jared demanded. “For the hCG results?”

“Possibly an hour, maybe two, depending on how busy the lab is.”

“Two?” Jared blurted. “We can’t wait two hours!”

“It’s okay,” Calla mumbled listlessly to her knees. “It doesn’t matter anyway.”

“Stop that!” Between her giving up so quickly and the frustration at having to wait, Jared had finally had it. “Maybe you’re ready to give up, but I’m not! I told you, I refuse to believe anything’s wrong until he tells me!” he growled, jabbing a finger at Dr. Murray.

“Well, I don’t!” she shot back. “I don’t need him to tell me I’d lost another one because I don’t deserve to be a mother!”

Jared was momentarily stunned by her declaration, so was, he noticed, everyone else.

“Is that what you think?” he murmured. “You heard what he said, women sometimes bleed. It has nothing to do with you!”

“Jared’s right,” Lily murmured when Calla opened her mouth. “I bled the first trimester with you and Willa.” She chuckled softly. “I was sitting right where you are, scared out of my ever loving mind both times thinking I’d lost you. But here you both are.”

“You never told me that,” Cole said. “I knew about Willa, but…”

Lily shrugged. “I guess it never came up.”

Calla looked at her mom, a spark of something like hope brightening her otherwise bleak eyes. “Yeah?”

Lily nodded. “Don’t give up, okay?”

Dr. Murray glanced at Jared, then at Calla and finally settled his gaze on Beth. “I’ll be doing my rounds, call me the minute the results are in.”

Beth nodded.

Then there was nothing left to do, but wait.

“I’m going to go see if I can’t get the lab to put a rush on that blood. I’ve been here for two fucking decades. That should hold some authority.” with that, Beth left.

Damon moved to stand next to Jared. Neither spoke, but the other man’s presence felt nice. Willa and Lily stayed by Calla as Cole went to stand next to Sloan. The two were talking, but he couldn’t hear what they were saying. Truthfully, he didn’t care.

It was a strange sensation, hovering in that place between exhausted and wide awake. Jared could feel his body shutting down, while his brain continued to hum. There were only two seats in the room and Cole and Sloan had taken claim of both. Not that it mattered. He didn’t think he could sit down anyway.

“This is my fault,” he murmured to the man next to him. “I should have been watching the road.”

Damon frowned. “What road?”

Jared told him about the accident he and Calla had been in earlier that day before arriving at Cole’s house for what would forever be known as the worst Christmas ever.

“Everything would have been fine if I had just kept my eyes on the fucking road.”

“Dude, that sounds crazy,” Damon said almost at once. “You don’t even know that was the reason.”

“I should have taken her to the hospital as soon as it happened,” he went on.

“And done what? She only just started bleeding.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Will you stop!” Damon hissed, keeping his voice low. “Pull yourself together, Dumont. The last thing Calla needs is to see your ass falling apart.”

“I’m trying!” Jared hissed back.

“Try harder!”

They fell into a sort of silence that was broken only by the crinkle of paper every time Calla shifted. No one felt overly inclined to break it otherwise. It was why, when footsteps approached their door, Jared almost swore when only Toby stepped into view.

The boy looked groggy-eyed and tussled. He wore his flannel bottoms under his coat and no socks. He shuffled in and stopped.

“Anything yet?”

“Mom told you to stay in the waiting room,” Cole told him.

“Yeah, but it was so boring in there,” the boy complained. “I wanted to see how Calla was.”

“I’m okay.” Calla offered him a smile. “The doctor will be back really soon. Then we can all go home to bed.”

“Amen!” Toby praised. “This place stinks.”

Yawning, he shuffled back out of the room.

“He refused to stay home once he overheard me say Calla and hospital,” Cole said to the room at large.

Calla’s smile was genuine this time. “He’s my little buddy.” Her gaze went over the group surrounding her, her eyes bright. “Thank you all for coming.”

“Of course!” Lily said immediately. “There is no way we wouldn’t be here.”

“It’s the middle of the night…”

“Damon and I weren’t sleeping anyway,” Willa stated. “We were having a Lord of the Rings marathon.”

“Which she totally fell asleep on an hour into the second movie,” Damon piped in.

“I did not!” Willa gasped in offense. “I was resting my eyes for the next eight movies.”

Damon snorted a chuckle. “There are only three.”

Willa puffed up her cheeks and rolled her eyes at Calla. “I swear it feels like a whole lot more.”

Calla laughed. She leaned her head close and lightly tapped her forehead against her sister’s.

“Thank you,” she mouthed.

“You’re welcome,” Willa mouthed back.

Beth came charging into the room, scaring the shit out of all of them. She held a chart in her hand, and Jared immediately came to attention.

“I got them,” Beth panted. “I’m going to find, Dr. Murray.”

Then, just as quickly, she was gone.

The peaceful calm that had descended on the room quickly evaporated, growing tense and fraught once more. The smile Willa had coaxed out of Calla was also gone and the drawn pallor was back. Jared wondered with irritation why Beth hadn’t gotten the doctor before coming to the room.

Thankfully, there wasn’t too long to wait. Dr. Murray appeared in the doorway with Beth right behind him. He was peering over the papers she must have given him, and his face told them nothing.

On the cot, Calla slipped her hand free of the blanket and took Willa’s.

“So…” he said at long last. “The blood results are back.”

He crossed the room to stand next to the bed. He continued to peruse over the charts for what felt like forever.

“Doctor?” Beth coaxed at last, looking as anxious as the rest of them.

He handed the papers over to her. “I think you should give them the news.”

Beth’s face paled as she took the chart. Her hands were unsteady, her eyes sorrowful as they lifted to Calla. Jared’s heart dropped into his stomach. His feet moved even before he could register his own movements and he was at Calla’s side. He was there when she reached for him. On her other side, Willa’s arms went around her, gripping her tight as Beth lowered her gaze to read what was written.

Like the doctor, she took her sweet damn time. Then her head shot up to stare at Dr. Murray with a look that could only be described as shocked.

“I think everyone is waiting, nurse,” he said calmly.

Beth looked back at the pages again. “Your hCG levels are fine!”

A sound between a wheeze and a sob left Calla in a rush of a single word. “What?”

“The baby’s fine.” She gave a laugh and hurried forward to surround Calla in a tight embrace as tears slipped down her cheeks. “The baby’s fine, sweetie.”

Calla’s face crumpled and she dropped it onto Beth’s shoulder. Lily and Willa were there, engulfing her as well. Jared started to step away, to give them room, but Calla’s fingers tightened around his, holding him firmly in place.

Finally, they let her go and she was in his arms.

“He’s okay,” she rasped into the side of his neck.

“I never doubted it,” he murmured. “He’s strong like his mama.”

Calla chuckled and drew back to wipe her eyes with the corner of the blanket.

“So, congratulations are in order,” Dr. Murray decided, moving to stand in front of Calla. “This is usually the part where I get to bring in my fancy ultrasound machine and dazzle you with images of your bundle of joy.”

“But?” Calla edged.

Dr. Murray shrugged. “No buts.”

He glanced at Beth, who chuckled.

“On it!”

In a blur of dark hair and blue scrubs, Beth hurried from the room. A moment later, she was back, pushing a metal machine into the room ahead of her. She hooked it up and adjusted it while Dr. Murray told Calla to lie back. Willa slid off the table to give Calla room to recline. The blankets were drawn apart from her waist up and her camisole was rolled over her flat belly. Beth squeezed slimy, blue goo over Calla’s stomach and stepped aside.

It was the longest two minutes of Jared’s life as the entire room waited for something to happen. At first, all they could make out was a white spotlight against a black backdrop. Then a ripple as the wand was glided across Calla’s abdomen. Her fingers in his tightened in a painful grip that he did not mind in the least. The doctor murmured something to Beth from over his shoulder while pointing at the screen. Beth nodded and said something back.

“What is it?” Calla asked.

“Nothing,” Beth said quickly. “Dr. Murray’s just checking to make sure everything’s okay.”

They murmured to each other a few more minutes before the rest of the room was included.

“So, everything looks great,” Dr. Murray assured them. “I see nothing I would be concerned about, which I like, because I really don’t like being concerned about things.”

Jared exhaled.

“Now, let’s see if I can’t pin this little guy down so you can see him…”

The breath Jared had released quickly lodged in his throat all over again as he waited to get his first glimpse of his baby.

“Dad? Can I get change for the vending … whoa! Are we looking at the baby?” Toby bolted into the room before anyone could stop him. “I want to see!”

“Toby!” Beth snapped. “You’re not supposed to be in here.”

“It’s okay,” Calla said hurriedly. “I don’t mind it, if you don’t.”

Beth shot her son a disapproving frown, but went back to watching the monitor.

The first thing they saw was two oblong shapes floating in what looked like a peanut shell. Gradually, like in a funhouse mirror, it flexed and stretched until the shape had a form. Fine little slivers appeared in a delicate arch that was clearly a spine. Bony little arms and legs twitched in the black mass and the body wiggled.

“Oh my God…!” Calla gasped.

“It’s moving,” Jared murmured in awe.

“It certainly is,” Dr. Murray confirmed. “Quite actively, too, from the looks of it. I’m going to try and get a good angle here so you can see a little more…”

He worked for several minutes, adjusting his wrist and moving the wand around. Jared couldn’t stop staring. The image on the screen kept squirming and kicking and the more it was prodded, the more it thrashed.

“It’s like an alien,” Toby blurted.

“Toby!” Beth hissed.

“I’m just saying,” Toby muttered.

Calla chuckled. “It’s beautiful.”

“But everything’s okay?” Jared demanded of the doctor.

Dr. Murray shrugged. “I don’t see anything to worry about. I would come back in a week or two if the bleeding hasn’t stopped, but there’s nothing indicating anything’s wrong from what I can see.”

That was all Jared needed to hear. He bent at the waist and kissed his wife.

Chapter Thirteen ~ Calla

“I am so very against this,” Jared muttered for the hundredth time that morning while Calla dressed.

“I know, baby,” she said as she fastened the last button on her blouse. “But I promised and he’s driving all the way back so we can talk.”

“He doesn’t deserve it.”

With a sigh, she turned away from the vanity to face her husband. “He’s dying, Jared,” she murmured. “And I loved him once. That might not have meant something to him, but it meant something to me.”

“I still don’t think he has any right to ask you for anything.”

Making her way carefully around his bedroom, she planted her hands gently against his chest and leaned up to kiss him.

“I need to do it,” she told him. “Not for him, but for me. I need to put him behind me for good.”

“Can’t you do that by sending flowers to his funeral?”

“Jared!”

With a deep exhalation, he rolled his eyes. “Okay, fine, but I’m coming in case he gets any ideas.”

His protective, possessive muttering coaxed a smile out of her.

“Fine. But you should probably wear pants.”

Silver Slice of Heaven was reasonably empty when they arrived. Lucas waved at them from behind the register, but stayed to show the new girl how to use the espresso machine. Jared shot a narrowed glance over the room.

“Guess he can’t even be bothered to show up on time.”

“Jared…”

“Hey, I agreed to let you do this, but I sure as hell don’t have to be happy about it.” He leaned in and kissed her temple. “Find a seat. I’ll get you something to eat.”

“I’m not really hungry,” she murmured. “But I’d really like a decaf tea.”

“Okay.”

With another kiss, he left her to claim a spot as he crossed to the counter. Calla took the sofa and sat, stretching her swollen feet towards the fire. Her hands went to the subtle little dome pushing up the front of her coat. She unzipped the heavy fabric and shrugged out of it to fully frame the mound.

It wasn’t very big for four months, but the feel of it was a reminder not to let herself get stressed. While the bleeding had stopped almost a week after it had started, she still worried. Thankfully, Jared was an even bigger fretter than she was and had appointed himself her nagging husband, constantly berating her for lifting so much as a pillow. It was endearing and she cherished every moment of his attention.

Turning her head, she caught sight of him leaning against the counter, listening to whatever Lucas was telling him. It must have been something amusing, because both were grinning. The new girl, Calla couldn’t remember the name of, was making their drinks. Her brows were furrowed in deep concentration. She set two ceramic mugs on the counter in front of Jared and took a quick step back. Jared thanked her before turning his attention back to his friend. He said something and Lucas laughed. The sound carried across the coffee shop in a warm ripple.

“Hello Calla.”

Having been preoccupied watching Jared, she hadn’t seen the door open, or Richard walk through. But he stood next to the sofa in his long, dark coat and handsome smile. It was that smile that had won her. Even a slight curl at the corners and it reflected in his eyes. There was something magnetic about it.

“Richard.”

He gestured to the spot next to her. “May I?”

Calla nodded and scooted back an inch, even though there was plenty of space.

He lowered himself with the care of someone expecting pain. It mirrored in the downward turn of his lips and in the tight coil of his jaw. Then he was seated.

“How are you?” she asked.

He offered her a tired smile. “I have been better.” He searched her face. “Thank you for seeing me. I know I had no right to ask it of you.”

Calla shook her head. “No, you didn’t. I’m married now. I have a baby on the way. I’ve moved on.”

“I wasn’t aware of any of those things when I looked for you.”

“Would it have mattered if you had?”

A quiet chuckle escaped him. “Probably not.” He peered into her eyes. “I am still so in love with you, Calla. Hear me out,” he pressed on when she opened her mouth. “I know I wasn’t fair to you and the things I said and the way I behaved was appalling. I wish I could say these were things I discovered after you walked out of my life, but it would be a lie and I’m here to purge myself of my wrong doings. It was only recently that I realized just what I lost when I let you go and only after I was confronted with my own mortality.”

“So, it’s true,” she whispered. “You’re really dying.”

Richard nodded. “The doctor says I have acute lymphoblastic leukemia in the advance stages. The thing was growing inside me for years before taking over my blood cells. I might have stood a chance if it had been caught sooner, treatments and such. As it stands, the doctor says I have possibly a year, maybe two with radiation and chemo.”

“Oh, Richard, I’m so sorry.”

He shook his head slightly. “Not your fault. It is what it is. My only real regret is not being able to watch Sofi grow.”

“How is she?” Calla wondered.

“Good.” He smiled fondly. “She won first place at her school science fair this year.”

“That’s so great!” she murmured, meaning it.

“It is. She’s smart, so I know she’ll understand when the time comes.”

“Does she know?”

He shook his head. “Not yet. I keep meaning to tell her, but I just don’t know how. She always just seems too young to put this grief on her, but I know I should.”

“How’s Mariana?”

He made a sound like a dry chuckle and glanced down at his hands. “She left me, and not for the reason you would think.” He lifted his head and met her gaze. “She couldn’t stay with a dying man.”

“What?”

His smile bloomed across his face. “Serves me right, don’t you think? I had an amazing woman in you and I could have spent the last of my life in the love and warmth of your arms, instead I will die alone.” He furrowed his brows in contemplation. “Poetic justice really.”

“Richard…”

His gaze focused on her face and his smile became gentle. “Are you crying for me, buttercup?” He reached up and lightly brushed away the tears streaking down her cheeks. “I don’t deserve these and you know it.”

“I know,” she whispered. “It doesn’t make this any less sad.”

Rather than comment, his gaze went to her midsection. “I often wonder what would have happened if things hadn’t gone the way they did, if you had gone on to have my child, and if he or she would know about me.” He exhaled softly. “They would have been about one now.”

“Stop.”

He fixed his attention out of his thoughts and onto her. “I’m not sorry things ended the way they did. I was once, but not anymore. That child would have been a memory of everything I did to you, a shadow marring your future with your husband and this new child and I have already hurt you too much.”

Calla shook her head. “He would have been loved and cherished and he would have been mine.”

“And what of your husband? Would he have raised another man’s child?”

“Yes,” she answered without hesitation. “Jared is wonderful. He loves me and he would love my baby.”

It could have been the trick of the light, but the light in his eyes was that of contentment, of an almost bliss, that baffled her until he spoke.

“Good.” He lightly touched her hair and brushed strands behind her ear to cradle the side of her face. “That is what I want for you, Calla. I want you to love and be loved. I want you to be happy. I want you to forget me—”

“Richard—”

He shook his head. “I was never good for you. I was never worthy of what you gave me. But I wouldn’t change it, not for me, because looking back, you were my salvation, while I was your curse. I will never forget you. But my dying wish for you is not to forgive me, but to forget me. Don’t let what I did take another moment of your thoughts. Be happy with the man you’ve chosen and the family you’re starting, buttercup. Focus on that. Always.”

Leaning forward, he kissed her lightly on the brow. His lips lingered before he drew away to smile into her streaming eyes.

“Thank you.”

Then he was gone and Calla was left staring at the spot he’d left behind through a thick veil of tears with a tightness in her chest.

But it wasn’t like before. Her heart didn’t feel shattered, or broken. It just hurt, kind of the way it did when you run across an old friend on the street and while you no longer talk, memories of your friendship fill you with a sadness that lingers for a while before it fades and you forget again. But she knew she would never forget Richard. He had been her friend, her confidant, and her lover for two years. He had been her first on many things and he had taught her how to be better. She hadn’t told him as much, but in a lot of ways, she had grown up because of him. Their end had been painful and tragic, but they had been amazing together. So she would put him away. She would tuck him inside a box and store him away at the back of her mind and heart. But she would never truly forget him.

“Calla?” Jared slipped into the spot Richard had occupied. He touched her face, smoothing away the last of her tears. “Everything okay?”

She looked into his eyes and saw his love for her a shiny reflection across the silvery surface. But beyond that, she saw their future, saw the happiness they would share together and the family they would raise. She saw herself old, sitting on the porch with him by her side as their grandchildren and great grandchildren sprinted across the yard. And she smiled.

“Yeah, everything’s great.”

Chapter Fourteen ~ Calla

“Where are you taking me?” Calla demanded as Willa dragged her forcibly down the block at a half waddle, half run. “Willa, I have work!”

“It can wait for one day,” her sister said. “Come on. I need to show you something.”

Calla snorted, settling a hand under her six month belly like she could somehow hold up the weight threatening to send her forward on her face.

“What’s in Willow Creek that I haven’t already seen?”

Willa ceased walking and turned to her, face bunched against the sun and the hurt shining in her eyes.

“Is your shop more important than me?”

Calla squinted at her, trying to determine if that was a joke, or a serious question. Willa stared back, unblinking.

“That’s low.” She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Fine. Show me. But slow down. Pregnant women aren’t meant for running.”

Arm securely fastened around hers, Willa propelled her through town.

“What are you showing me at town hall?” she wondered as she was dragged around the side.

“Hurry up!” Willa panted.

Bemused more than ever, Calla let herself be led through the side doors, down a short hallway, and into a small, sparsely furnished room. It was a space mostly used as a waiting area and only held a settee and a single mirror hanging on the wall. At that moment, the soft velvet divan was mounted high with an assortment of things.

Willa shut the door and quickly relinquished her death grip on Calla. She hurried to the sofa.

“Here!” She tossed Calla a garment bag. “Put that on.”

Calla stared at the beautiful, strapless white gown in shimmering satin with wary suspicion.

“What is this?”

Willa was already stripping out of her jeans and sweater. “Why are you questioning everything?”

“Because you kidnapped me, brought me here, and now you’re making me change my clothes.”

Yanking open the second dress bag, Willa shook out a light, lacy dress in dark burgundy. She stepped hastily into it.

“It’s a surprise for Mom,” she said, swishing her hips and hopping until the dress was securely in place around her body. “And you’re going to ruin it if you don’t shut up and get dressed.”

“How come I never heard of this surprise?”

“Because I forgot to tell you.”

“Willa!”

“What?” the other girl shouted back, bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet as she struggled to do up the zipper.

“How could you forget?”

Panting, grunting and groaning, Willa succeeded in drawing the dress together. “Because I have had a million things on my mind. Now can you please…?”

Calla relented. She pulled out of her clothes and drew on the dress. The soft, silky material glided down the length of her frame, swooped gracefully over the bulge of her belly and floated seamlessly inches from the ground, giving her feet just enough room for movement without tripping. Gems glittered along the stiff bodice straining over her swollen breasts and rained down the front in a shimmering waterfall. It was beautiful, and a little too fancy for someone else’s surprise.

“It’s not her anniversary.”

“No,” was all Willa gave as she hastily scooped up Calla’s hair and twisted it.

“Not her birthday.”

“Nope.”

A shiny clip was slipped into place to contain the messy, yet fancy knot.

“Not Uncle Sloan’s birthday.”

“Will you please stop guessing?” Willa pleaded as she hurriedly swept strands back from her own temple and shoved a glittery pin into place to contain it.

“Why are we wearing these dresses?”

“Because!” Willa’s voice came out high pitched and shrill.

Thankfully, one of them was saved when there was a knock and Calla’s dad poked his head inside.

“You guys ready?”

“No!” Willa blurted and darted to the remaining two bags.

She yanked out a pair of low, white, satin pumps and hurried back to Calla. She set them down in front of her and bolted back to grab a pair of black pumps for herself.

“What’s going on?” Calla demanded of her father, even as she eased her feet into the shoes.

“I told her it was a surprise for Mom,” Willa panted, face flushed, eyes sparking with frustrated tears. “She’s being difficult!”

Her father chuckled. “You both look beautiful.”

That wasn’t an answer to her question, but Willa was too busy slapping makeup on Calla’s face for her to say as much. A heavy diamond pendent in ice blue was draped around her throat and her favorite gold hoops were pushed into her earlobes.

“Hey, where did you get those?”

“Stole them from your apartment.” Willa answered without an ounce of shame. “Okay, I think we’re ready.”

Her father offered them both his arm and led them out of the room. Willa was still out of breath and she refused to look at Calla, but Calla barely noticed.

“How come you remembered to steal my earrings, but not to tell me there was a surprise?”

“Uncle Cole!” Willa wailed.

Calla’s dad stopped and turned to Willa. He took her sulky and blotchy face between his hands and kissed her lightly on the cheek.

“Go on, sweetheart. I’ll handle this.”

Visibly relieved, Willa sprinted away without a backwards glance.

Alone, her dad turned to her, took her face in his hands the way he’d done a million times before and said, “You need to give your sister a break.”

That wasn’t an answer either.

“What’s going on?” she demanded warily. “I know it’s not Mom’s birthday, or her—”

“Whatever it is, stop badgering. No one likes a badgerer.”

“That’s not a real word.”

He smiled and drew away. Her hand was taken once more and slipped into the crook of his elbow. He started them forward.

“You know I love you, right?”

“Is that the right question to ask me right now when you refuse to answer … yes,” she grumbled when he shot her a sidelong glance.

“And that I will always love you, no matter what?”

Calla tipped her head towards him. “Yes.”

Her dad nodded, still staring straight ahead. “Did you know the first time I held you, I cried? You were this tiny, perfect little thing all bundled in blankets and I wanted you so much.”

“Dad?”

He pulled in a breath that lifted his shoulders. “I hate that you’ve grown up. I feel like I didn’t get any time with you at all.”

“What are you talking about?” she whispered, trying and failing to keep her voice teasing. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me forever.”

He paused and turned to capture the back of her head and press a hard kiss to her brow.

“Much longer, baby.” His voice broke. “You will always be that bundle of blankets to me. You will always be that little girl who would run towards me, arms open wide, waiting for me to catch her, and I will always catch you.”

Emotions lodged in her throat, bringing tears to her eyes. “Daddy, what…?”

He sniffled and drew back. A tear slid down his cheek and the sight of it struck her square in the chest. She had never seen her father cry, not once.

“What’s going on?”

His answer was to pull her into his arms, so tight, she couldn’t breathe. “I love you, Cal. And, God, I am so proud of you.”

She was crying by the time he finally pulled back. He cradled her face, wiped her tears and gave her a big smile.

“Don’t cry, or your mother will kill me.”

She did her best to stop, but the odd tear kept slipping past her defenses to trail down her cheeks. She got most of it under control by the time they reached the wide set of doors and the mess of red and white rose petals leading further into the dimly lit room. White streamers and balloons were pinned along the frame. They swayed under some invisible force. Her dad led her beneath them and she got her first view of the banquet hall.

The long, rectangular room was empty save for a small cluster of chairs placed in two neat groups on either side of the rose petal trail. An archway of red roses adorned the front on a two tier platform and that was where the petals stopped, at the very base, right beneath where Reverend Peters stood next to a gorgeous man in a mouthwateringly fit suit in sleek black with a crisp, white dress shirt. The satin trim complimented the nearly bloomed rose set against a broad chest. Stunning gray eyes met hers and all the air in the room seemed to vanish.

“I never thought anyone was ever good enough for you,” her father murmured. “But I approve of the one you’ve chosen. He’s a good man and he’ll love you almost as much as I do.”

Calla forced herself to look away from Jared and peered at her dad. “Dad…?”

Willa darted forward and shoved a bouquet of bright, fully bloomed red roses into Calla’s hands.

She grinned at her. “Surprise!”

With another brilliant smile, Willa whirled on her heels to face the small cluster of people rising to their feet and turning in their direction. As though on cue, music erupted through the room, a low serenade of violins and piano. Calla recognized the wedding march, but her feet had rooted themselves to the floor.

Willa started forward, leading their little group up the rose petal road. Calla’s father waited five steps before propelling Calla forward. Faces of all the people she loved filled her line of vision. There weren’t many, but her entire world was in that room, in that moment, watching her with smiles. Her mother, beaming and crying simultaneously, stepped out when they reached the top and took Calla’s face in her hands. She kissed her gently on the cheek.

“Love you,” she whispered before stepping back so Uncle Sloan could pull her into his arms.

“I may not be your father, but I will always love you.”

Calla shook her head. “You have always been my father, too.”

His arms tightened around her before releasing her. He touched her face lovingly, before moving to stand next to his wife.

She turned to her dad and got a smile that shone in the unnatural brightness of his eyes. He took her hand and led her up the platform to stand before Jared. Behind him, Toby and Damon grinned at her and she grinned back before focusing on the man before her.

“What is this?”

“I’m going to marry you,” he stated simply.

“But we’re already married.”

“Doesn’t count. I want us to remember it. I want it to be something we can tell our kids about one day.”

Calla looked over the room at the time and effort that it must have taken to organize every detail. It wasn’t grand, or lavish. But it was perfect in its simplicity, in the thoughtfulness of it and the motivation behind it. It could have been them in jeans and sandals and it would have been equally memorable so long as her family was there.

“You did all of this?”

“No.” Jared chuckled. “Your mom, Beth, and Willa helped. They actually did most of it.”

“He’s lying,” Willa muttered from behind her. “We followed what he wanted. He was very specific … and bossy.”

A chuckle rippled through the crowd.

Jared grinned sheepishly. “I just wanted it to be perfect. I know every girl has an idea of how they want their wedding and this might not be it at all for you, but I figured we could have something bigger in a few years. For now, I wanted to put my ring on your hand in front of everyone we love and—”

She kissed him, putting all her heart and soul into it.

“It’s perfect,” she whispered. “I love it.” She kissed him again, harder. “I love you.”

“Now, hold on, you two,” Reverend Peters put his wrinkled hands up. “That’s not until later.”

Laughing sheepishly, Calla pulled back.

“What will it be?” Jared asked her. “Will you marry me … again?”

Beaming, Calla nodded. “Yes.”

Epilogue ~ Willa

TWO MONTHS LATER…

There was nothing safe, reassuring, or welcoming about a hospital. It didn’t matter how many smiling, cartoon animals they stamped to the walls, or how bright and cheery they painted the floors, hospitals were depressing and fraught with nervous energy. Willa hated them, hated being in them, hated waiting, not knowing what would happen next.

Her gaze flicked to the doors that had swallowed her sister up over thirteen hours earlier. Her mom and Jared were with her, but Willa still didn’t like not being there, which had, ironically, been her choice. She hadn’t been sure she could handle watching her sister suffer in pain and being unable to do a damn thing about it. Oddly enough, not being there was somehow infinitely worse.

Behind her on the waiting room floor, cuddled against her back, Damon was idly flipping through his phone. His free arm was hooked securely around her middle, the hand spanning the length of her abdomen. His long legs bracketed either side of her hips. One was propped up and he was using the knee as a place to rest his phone wielding hand, while the other stretched out alongside hers. Against her shoulder blade, his heart pattered calmly through the thin material of his top. His scent of motor oil, soap and tacos filled the space around her.

“How are you so calm?” she wondered.

“Because women have been giving birth since the dawn of time, even before hospitals were invented,” he mumbled. “And we’re not in the third world where medical attention is iffy.” He snickered at her appalled expression. “She’ll be fine.”

“You don’t know that!”

“I do.” He switched his phone off and stuffed it into his pocket. “Have you met Calla?”

Her sister was tough, much tougher than Willa ever could be. But so many things could go wrong.

“Stop worrying.”

But worrying was what Willa did best.

“I should have gone in,” she thought out loud. “Then I wouldn’t be here wondering if everything is all right.”

Both his arms circled around her and she was cuddled comfortably in their embrace. His chin rested on her shoulder.

“Jared’s with her,” he reminded her. “He won’t let anything happen to her, or the baby.”

That was true. Her brother in law would move heaven and earth to keep her sister safe. That made Willa feel slightly better.

“I’m going to be an aunt,” she said, getting excited as she always did at the thought. She paused and peered at him hesitantly. “Is it wrong that I secretly hope it’s a girl?”

He shook his head. “Nope, I wish it too.”

Willa blinked. “You do?”

His mouth curved into a grin that made her pulse pick up. “Can you imagine a baby with his face?”

“Damon!” She lightly elbowed him. “That’s horrible. He’s your best friend.”

“Doesn’t mean he should pass his curse on to an unsuspecting baby.”

She knew he was joking. Damon loved Jared. They’d been friends since preschool. She just didn’t understand why they had to be so mean to each other.

“I think Jared’s very handsome,” she defended. “Between his pretty gray eyes and Calla’s beautiful hair, I think they’ll have a gorgeous baby.”

Damon leaned into the wall and pulled her back against him. Both his hands folded neatly over her stomach.

“You should get some rest,” he stated. “Who knows how much longer they’ll be.”

Despite her resistance, Willa yawned into the back of her hand. “What about you?”

“I’m not tired, but you go ahead.”

He dragged his coat over her gently. She snuggled into it and him and closed her eyes.

“Damon?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you want babies?”

The organ beneath her shoulder blade gave a hard kick that popped her eyes open with a start.

“Babies?”

“Yeah.”

He was quiet for a moment.

“Yeah, I do.” His lips brushed her temple, warming the spot with his breath. “Do you?”

A smile turned up her mouth. “Yes, I want two.” She tipped her head back on his shoulder to peer up at him. “Doesn’t matter what they are.”

Damon said nothing, but his sharp, blue eyes raked over her face, leaving a hot flush in their wake. The scrutiny drove up the volume on her own heart and it galloped a little faster.

“Two sounds nice,” he murmured at last. “But boys.”

The absolution in his tone made her chuckle. “Why?”

“Because the girls would look like you and I would have to buy a shotgun.”

Willa laughed. “A shotgun? Why would—”

Jared appeared in the open doorway of the waiting room, flushed, beaming, and sweaty. His paper gown crinkled as he stopped to stare at the group waiting. Willa bolted out of Damon’s arms and scrambled to her feet just as her dad and Uncle Cole did the same. Damon stayed where he was, but the tension that ran through all of them had stiffened his shoulders.

“It’s a boy!” Jared panted, beaming so wide Willa wondered if his face hurt.

Willa squeaked and did a little hop on her feet. “Can I see him?”

Nodding, Jared motioned them all to follow before bolting out of sight.

Willa waited only a split second to wave at Damon to hurry up before running to catch up.

The room was sparsely furnished with a bed, one end table, a roll table, and two plastic chairs. The blinds on the large window were thrown open wide to the murky, black twilight. But the harsh lights in the room were on, spilling over the sweaty, pink face of her sister and the tiny lump of blankets in her arms.

Calla looked up when Jared barged in, followed closely by Willa and everyone else. Her smile was almost as wide as his was.

“Hey!” Willa darted forward, straining to look into the blankets. “He’s here!”

Calla laughed. “Yeah, it only took thirteen hours.”

“But you did wonderful,” their mother said from the foot of the bed, beaming proudly.

From Calla’s other side, Aunt Beth fiddled with the monitors and IV bags, making sure everything was just right before turning her gaze down on Calla and the baby.

“Everything looks great. Do you need anything?”

“Water?” Calla asked.

Touching her shoulder, Beth left, but not before pausing to kiss her husband on her way out.

“Congratulations, grandpa,” she teased.

Uncle Cole grimaced sheepishly and laughed. “I don’t feel old enough for that.”

“Can I hold him?” Willa pleaded, arms already outstretched.

Calla shifted against the bed and settled the blankets into Willa’s arms.

“Oh my God!” she gasped, snuggling the perfect little thing against her chest. “He’s so perfect!”

“All ten fingers and all ten toes,” Calla stated proudly. “I counted. Twice.”

Willa swayed slightly from side to side while brushing the blankets aside slightly to get a better view of all the soft, downy hair capping a slightly misshapen head.

“He’s blond.”

“For now,” Jared stated. “We need brunettes in this family.”

Calla laughed.

“What’s his name?” Sloan asked, stepping up behind Willa to peer into the blankets.

Calla looked at Jared, who shrugged and motioned for her to go ahead.

“Colten Sloan Dumont.” Calla peered past the many faces to her dad and uncle. “Named after two of my favorite men.”

“Hey!” Jared muttered, grinning.

A muscle tightened in Uncle Cole’s jaw and his eyes gleamed a little too brightly in the light as he moved forward and pulled his daughter into his arms.

Willa edged out of the way, still cradling baby Colten tight to her chest.

“I swear I thought he would be bigger,” Damon murmured just for Willa’s ear. “Especially towards the end when it looked like she’d swallowed a barn.”

“I heard that!” Calla snapped, laughing.

“He’s beautiful, don’t you think?” Willa said, tilting Colten slightly so Damon could get a better look. “Look at how tiny he is!”

“Okay, that’s enough.” Uncle Cole shifted forward. “My turn!”

Chuckling, Willa settled Colten gingerly into his grandfather’s arms and stepped back.

“You have an uncle passed out in the room next door,” he told the baby. “He tried real hard to stay awake so he could meet you.”

“Poor Toby,” Calla said.

“He’ll be fine,” Cole assured her. “He has his whole life with little Colten.” He chuckled thickly. “Jesus, I haven’t held one of these since Toby was born. I’d almost forgotten how scary it was.” He looked to his daughter. “You did real good, baby.”

Calla’s lip trembled, but she smiled. “Thanks, Daddy.”

“I think we should let them rest,” Willa’s mom stepped forward to take Colten from Uncle Cole. “It’s been a very long night.”

She brushed a kiss to Colten’s brow before settling him down in his mother’s arms.

“I’ll walk you guys out,” Jared said, moving to the door.

Willa leaned in to kiss her sister, then the baby before taking Damon’s hand and starting for the door. Uncle Cole and her mom followed. Her dad waited until the path was clear before moving to the bed and pressing a kiss to Calla’s forehead.

“Real proud of you, sweetheart. He’s beautiful.”

He smoothed a hand over Calla’s hair before stepping back and leaving the room.

“I forgot something,” Damon murmured, pausing in the hallway.

Willa frowned. “What?”

He let her hand go. “I’ll be right back.”

She watched as he hurried back towards Calla’s room. Curiosity had her following just as he disappeared inside. He stood next to Calla’s bed when she peered in.

“You did good,” he was saying. “He’s a keeper.”

Calla chuckled. “I think so, too.”

Damon shifted, moving his weight from his right foot to his left foot the way he did when he was uncomfortable. His shoulders rose slightly around his ears like he used to when he was a kid. But just as quickly, he relaxed and reached into the pocket of his jeans and drew out a small, flat box.

“It’s blank,” he told her. “I didn’t know what to put. Figured you could get the stuff on it.”

Still holding Colten, Calla pried the top off and pulled out a long, silver chain from a bed of cotton. The light caught the heart at the end and glinted.

“It’s beautiful, Damon. Thank you.”

Damon nodded. “Yeah, well, the lady at the store said mother’s liked that kind of thing, you know, to put their baby name and things on it.”

Calla nodded, barely containing the tears Willa could see clinging to her lashes. “Yeah, we do.”

He shifted again. “Well, I have to go. Willa’s waiting. Let me know if you, or he, need anything.”

Willa ducked out of the doorway and hurried back to the spot Damon had left her and waited.

He walked out, took one look at her watery eyes and wobbly smile and pinkened. His brows furrowed in an embarrassed scowl.

“Didn’t I tell you to wait there?”

Willa ran to him and threw her arms around his neck. “I love you.”

His arms coiled around her waist and she was drawn the rest of the way into his chest. “Love you, too, Wills.”

She tilted her head back to look into his breathtaking features. “You have me for another three days before I have to go back for exams. What do you want to do?”

It could have been her exhausted imagination, but she could have sworn his gaze lingered on her mouth a moment too long before lifting to her eyes again.

“Sleep,” he murmured. “For tonight. But tomorrow … well, we’ll see.”

THE END

You & Me, Baby (Damon & Willa)

The Baby Saga, Book #4

Coming May 2015

Acknowledgement

To my incredible family for putting up with me mumbling erratically to myself while trying to untangle the many plots weaving through my mind.

My girls on all my teams for banding together to help me make every project awesome.

Kathy for using her magic polishing wand to make my story sparkly.

Jaime, Krystal, Kim and Kia for reading everything I put out and never questioning my sanity.

Amber for possessing the patience of a saint.

My readers for being my inspiration and standing by every project.

Love you all always,

Airicka

About Airicka Phoenix

Airicka Phoenix is a hopeless romantic with a dark imagination and an incurable addiction to chocolate. She is also the author of several novels written for young adult and new adult romance readers who like bad boys, hot kisses and a gritty plot. Airicka prides herself in producing quality material her readers can fall in love with again and again.

When she's not hard at work bleeding words onto paper, Airicka can be found cuddling with her family, reading, watching TV shows, or just finding excuses to avoid doing chores.

To find out about upcoming books, teasers, giveaways and more, join her Newsletter or check out her Website!

Table of Contents

Chapter One ~ Calla

Chapter Two ~ Jared

Chapter Three ~ Calla

Chapter Four ~ Jared

Chapter Five ~ Calla

Chapter Six ~ Jared

Chapter Seven ~ Calla

Chapter Eight ~ Jared

Chapter Nine ~ Calla

Chapter Ten ~ Jared

Chapter Eleven ~ Calla

Chapter Twelve ~ Jared

Chapter Thirteen ~ Calla

Chapter Fourteen ~ Calla

Epilogue ~ Willa