9. Callie
Callie
One date turned into two. Two turned into four, and four turned into twelve. It’s official. I suck at staying away from Blake Price and his cocky voodoo magic that makes my nether regions sing the national anthem whenever he’s nearby.
The worst of it is I can feel him holding back. I thought after our first date, despite my reservations, that we’d wind up tangled in my sheets by the second. But every time things escalate between us, Blake backs off. I’d think I’d been friend zoned if it wasn’t for the fact his dick is always hard around me.
“Earth to Callie.” I jolt at the sound of June’s voice calling me from the bottom of the porch steps.
I look up from the book I have been pretending to read—I have been on the same page for the last twenty minutes. June smiles at me with a pie dish in her left hand as she balances her weight on her cane with the other.
“June!” I gasp, rushing down the steps to relieve her before scolding her for not calling out to me.
“Child, I called you ten times, but your head was so far in the clouds you couldn’t hear a thing,” she tells me, making me blush. Damn, busted .
“Sorry, June. I guess I need more coffee. It’s not even lunchtime, and I can tell it’s going to be a multiple-pot kind of day,” I admit, heading into the kitchen with the delicious-smelling pie.
“What’s got you in such a tizzy, or do I even need to ask?” she questions with a hint of smugness in her voice.
“Urgh,” I answer eloquently, placing the pie on the counter before pulling a chair out for June and indicating for her to sit.
“He better be treating you right. He might think he’s a tough guy now that he’s all grown, but he’s not too big for the ass-whooping he’ll get if he isn’t treating you like a lady.”
Oh, he’s treating me like a lady all right. Every time I think we might get down to the good stuff, he pulls back, leaving me with a killer case of blue balls or whatever the equivalent may be. Frosted ovaries maybe?
“He treats me wonderfully. That’s half the problem,” I admit as I pour us both coffee, adding sugar and creamer to each. Smiling, I pass her drink to her and give her arm a squeeze. I’ve fallen for this woman as much as I have her grandson.
“I had a plan. Live a simple, quiet life without complications. But then Blake came along and messed everything up. Every time he takes me out, I swear it’s going to be the last time, but I just can’t say no to him.”
“So don’t. He’s a good boy, Callie. He needs a good woman beside him,” she tells me before taking a sip of her drink.
I sigh. “It feels like a catch twenty-two. He’s holding back, which makes me keep him at arm’s length. I feel like we’re caught in limbo. There are things he doesn’t know about me, June. Things I’m not sure I’m ready to tell him. Heck, I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready. Until I do, I feel like what’s between us is being built on a lie. And that’s before whatever he’s hiding comes to light. Is dating really supposed to be this complicated?”
She’s quiet for a beat, studying me, and I get the impression she is choosing her words carefully.
“Callie, you know what Blake does, right?” she hedges, so I nod and wait for her to continue.
“Well, there is more to protection than being a physical presence. That’s just one facet of his job. The other is to be well-informed. You’ve been seeing each other for the last two months now. I guarantee you that whatever you’re holding back, Blake probably already knows. He would have done at least the basic background search on you weeks ago.”
Bomb. Dropped.
“What? No! He wouldn’t do that!” I protest.
“It’s who he is. It’s not done maliciously, but he would be able to sense, just like I can, that you are running from something. He wants to protect you.”
I shake my head and stand, walking over to the window, feeling sick to my stomach. “Protect me by going behind my back?” I spit out angrily. No wonder he’s holding back. He’s looking for a way out without looking like the bad guy.
“Callie, don’t you see, all this worrying about you feeling like you are lying to him is pointless now because he already knows.”
I’m sure her words are meant to reassure me, but they have the opposite effect, whatever the fuck that might be. I clench my fists, angry at Blake for breaking the trust between us but even angrier with myself for trusting him to begin with.
“It’s only pointless because he’s hiding stuff from me too.” I’m trying not to take this out on her, but even I can hear the bite in my tone.
“Child,” she continues, but I cut her off with my hand up, trying really freaking hard to hold the tears at bay.
“I don’t want to talk about it anymore, June. I’ll talk to Blake later. Thank you for the pie, but I’m suddenly not feeling well. I’m going to lie down for a little while. Please stay and finish your drink.” I walk to her on shaky legs and press a kiss to her cheek.
Ignoring her protests, I head up to the bedroom. I stand for a moment staring at my bed in a daze, a bed that only hours ago I wanted to share with the man who has just gutted me. Kicking off my shoes, I climb onto the bed and lie down as the tears start to fall, my anger making way for the sting of betrayal. Pulling my knees up to my chest, I wrap my arms around myself protectively.
Swallowing hard, I blow out a breath and try to fight back the tears, but they continue to cascade over my cheeks in little rivers onto the pillowcase beneath me.
I don’t know what he found out, but I can guess. At this point, it doesn’t matter. He might think he has me all figured out, but Blake has no clue. Nobody does, and in his misguided bid to protect me, he has hurt me like everyone who came before him.
I don’t know how long I lie there, staring aimlessly out the window at the cloudless blue sky. It must have been a while when I feel the bed depress behind me. I don’t fight it when a strong arm wraps itself around me, pulling me back into a hard chest. My head and heart are torn between lashing out and drawing comfort from him.
“June called you,” I guess.
“She did. The question is, why didn’t you?” he says softly, rolling me over to face him.
“Because if I had called you, I’d have ended things between us without giving you a chance to explain.” I feel his body go solid at my words. “I’m so mad at you,” I whisper, my voice laced with tears once more.
His face looks pained as he tries to catch them with the pad of his thumb. “Baby, don’t cry. All I wanted was to keep you safe. I knew you were hiding something. I can’t protect you if I don’t have all the information.”
“I didn’t ask you to protect me. I didn’t ask you for anything,” I retort with a sniff, swiping my tears away.
“You’re my woman, Callie. Of course, I’m going to protect you.”
“Oh, really? And when did you start looking into me?”
“I had Marcus start digging the day you first came to my office. You shut down, and it had me worried,” he answers quietly.
“I’d known you for twenty-four hours then, Blake, I wasn’t your woman?—”
“You were mine the second you bounced your head off my chin on the steps outside your door,” he snaps.
I stare up at him in shock. “What?” That’s not possible.
His hand glides across my jaw as he dips his head and slants his mouth over mine. I resist for a minute, twisting my body to pull away, but Blake keeps a firm grip on my jaw until, eventually, I relent, my whole body melting into his.
We’ve made out a lot over the last seven weeks. Many of our dates ended in some pretty heavy over-the-clothes petting, but Blake always put a halt to things before they went too far. Now I have to assume it’s because of my history, and he’s worried he might trigger something.
He moves his hand to my waist, and I take the opportunity to pull away breathless, not wanting to let his voodoo kisses cloud my brain.
“What did you find out?” I ask, already dreading the answer even though I’m curious about how good these guys are.
“Callie…” His voice trails off when he sees the firm set of my jaw.
“It’s my life you invaded. Now tell me what you found out.”
“I know your father was serving a hefty prison sentence and that he died while he was inside,” he admits.
I shake my head, trying to keep my anger and the feeling of hopelessness at bay. “He didn’t touch me,” I tell him emphatically. If he found out my dad was in prison, then he also found out why he was there.
He studies my face, masking his feelings, but not quickly enough for me to miss the brief look of pity.
“He didn’t. He never touched me in anger or in any kind of sexual way.” I tell him the same thing I’ve told dozens of people over the years, but nobody listens.
“It’s okay, Callie,” he whispers, stroking my hair back from my face as I squeeze my eyes shut.
It’s not okay. It never was and never will be. But this is my cross to bear, and I learned early on that people only hear what they want to.
“Is that the reason why you won’t touch me? You think I’m damaged goods?” I question, feeling him tense at my words.
He presses his forehead against mine before speaking, his warm breath fanning over my face.
“You are not damaged goods, and the next time I hear you call yourself that, I will spank your ass.”
I glare at him, still pissed off to the max, but there is another heat present too and it has nothing to do with anger.
“You’ll spank me?” I snort. “Is that a promise or a threat?”