Chapter 19- Ezra
Who’s your daddy?
Reluctantly, I’d gone up to see my father and his friends in the owner’s box with Callie’s sweet musk still lingering on my tongue. Wish I could’ve told the whole world to fuck off and taken her home. To my home where I would’ve kept her in my bed all night.
But, our responsibilities didn’t disappear simply because I wished it.
When I’d finally rejoined the group and apologized for my absence late in the third period, I noticed Callie had switched seats. While chatting with the kids surrounding me, I kept shooting covert glances at her, silently willing her not to regret it, not to wish that intimate moment between us hadn’t happened.
In the hubbub of celebration when the game was over, the players skated over to speak to the kids. One minute, Charlie, Callie and Wyatt had been there with the others. The next, they were gone.
But, she did text me the day and time for Wyatt’s game. My pining heart took solace in that.
“Let’s knock off a little early today,” I tell Celeste on Thursday afternoon. She tilts her head, studying me. “What?”
“That’s just… unusual for you, sir.”
She’s right. I’ve been so busy staying on top of my empire, the legacy that’s monopolized so many of my nights the past three years. There was never much to call me away until now. “Maybe it will become more usual for me. Go home. No pieces of trash waiting for you, I hope?”
“Not anymore.”
“Good.” She hurries toward the elevator in case I might change my mind.
My phone rings as I’m closing down my laptop – Chase. A swirl of emotions rise up in me. Anger. Jealousy. Guilt. But, I stifle those feelings as best I can. He’s still my kid brother.
We talk about his recovery and some of the demons that lead him down self-destructive paths over the years. He mentions Mom’s abandonment. “I think I hated women because she left us. I would use them… you know, sexually, and then discard them as some twisted way of getting back at her.”
All the oxygen seems to have been sucked out of the room. Our mother is a touchy subject for us anyway but the thought of him using Callie makes me burn up with hatred. How could I hate the little brother who used to crawl into my bed at night when he was scared? Look after Chase, they’d tell me. God knows, I tried. But now, I don’t know what to feel for him when I feel so strongly about her.
“Enough about me. What’s my billionaire brother up to? Dating supermodels? Buying yachts?”
I’m going to watch your son play hockey tonight. Guilt is such a useless emotion. And so damn pervasive. “Just work. Investment opportunities and spreadsheets.”
“Jesus, Ezra. You need to live a little.”
“I’m trying, Chase. I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”
The drive to the rink on the other side of town passes in a blur. ‘You need to live a little.’ I want to. With her and with Wyatt. I’ve wanted her for so long but I’d given up the idea of ever having Callie after she left. I told myself that she was one of those things I wasn’t meant to have, something I’d irrevocably lost, just like hockey is no longer meant to be mine in the way it once was.
Except, she’s here now and so am I. And, I want the chance to be her man.
∞∞∞
“Let’s go, Wyatt! Let’s go, Wreckers!” Waela shouts like any proud hockey grandma.
“They’re just doing warmups, woman,” Charlie says, trying to get her to sit down.
I glance at Callie, wondering if she’ll be on her feet soon as well. When our eyes meet, her cheeks take on that lovely fawn glow they get when she blushes. Is it because of the other night? We’ve still not talked about it.
But, there’s a slight yellowish tinge to her complexion and an exhausted, glassy look in her eyes as well. “Are you feeling alright?” She nods but winces as she does. “Callie?”
“Oh, you did not just do that, boy!” My head whips around, noting Waela’s anger, and I see Wyatt sprawled out on the ice. “He just tripped Wyatt with his stick for no reason. Charlie, hold my purse.”
Charlie talks his wife down from going after any five-year-olds instead but I see the player from the other team skating away from Wyatt and laughing. Neither coach nor the official have reacted. They probably didn’t see it. These kids are still very young for hockey but every playground has its bully, doesn’t it?
Callie clutches my arm, staring at her son as he sits up gingerly, wiping at his chin under the strap of his helmet. He’s bleeding. We’re both on our feet but I take the steps two at a time. I’ve walked across ice enough in street shoes to not fall on my ass. “How badly are you hurt, Bump?” I ask, crouching down next to him.
“I don’t think I like hockey anymore, Ezra.”
I bite back a chuckle as Wyatt’s coach skates over. “It hurts when we fall, doesn’t it? Did you bite your tongue? Any pain besides your chin?” He shakes his head. “Get some antiseptic and a bandage,” I tell the coach and the kid skates off. “Do you feel like playing the game or would you rather sit with us for a bit?”
Callie’s at the edge of the ice. She’s in heels from her day at work and I give her a thumbs-up before she decides to do something crazy like walk across the rink and break her ankle.
“I don’t know yet,” Wyatt answers, thoughtfully. “Would you still like me if I didn’t like hockey?”
“Of course, I would. You don’t have to like hockey. You can hate hockey and I’d still like you.”
“Promise?”
Christ, this kid. Why does he have to look so vulnerable? “I promise, Bump. Nothing could ever make me not like you.”
“Okay. Can I go push that boy down now?”
Laughing, I shake my head as the coach returns with the antiseptic. Wyatt winces as I treat the scrape but bravely lets me do it and apply the bandage. “Any idea why he tripped you?” Wyatt’s eyes cut away from mine and he licks his upper lip nervously. Chase would do the exact same thing as a kid when he lied. “It’s okay to tell me.”
“He knows who you are. I said you were here for me. He called me a liar so I… I told him you were my daddy and he tripped me.” His eyes have welled up with tears. “I know I lied. I’m sorry, Ezra. You mad?”
Mad? I’m fucking gutted. “I’m not mad, Wyatt. We shouldn’t say things that aren’t true but I’m not mad. Have you ever asked your mother about your father?”
He scowls at his skates. “She said he lives somewhere else. I asked her if he would ever come home. She said she didn’t think so. Would you come to my birthday party, Ezra?”
I’m so busy processing what Callie’s told him and my emotions from this conversation that I barely catch the question at the end. When I do, it makes me smile. “Yeah, sure. November 8th, right? That’s my birthday, too.”
His eyes grow huge and excitement lights up his face. “Wow! I’ll be five!”
“I know. I’ll be thirty-one.”
“Wow, that’s old.” I snort. “What kind of cake do you like?”
“I’ve not had a birthday cake in… not since my mom…” I stumble over the words, shove aside those feelings. My throat is so tight I feel like I can barely breathe when the ref blows his whistle.
“I think I’ll go play. Tell Mama not to worry. And, tell Grammy not to yell too much.”
I help pull him to his feet and fasten his helmet. “I will. I’ll be right here when the game is over.” Right here. Whenever you need me.
∞∞∞
“Why aren’t you home in bed? You’re burning up with fever.”
“I didn’t realize it was coming on so fast and I couldn’t stand to miss his first game, okay?”
“Unbelievable,” I grumble, carrying Wyatt’s gear and opening the passenger door.
All during the game, my eyes kept pinging between Wyatt and Callie, watching him with pride and watching her with worry. She was clearly feeling horrible by the end even as we all cheered Wyatt’s first goal. “You were at work all day like this?”
“I felt fine this morning.”
“Were you going to ride the bus if I’d not insisted on driving you home?”
She has the audacity to smirk at me. “That’s how I roll.”
“I’m getting you a car.”
“I can afford my own car. I don’t want one.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re getting a-”
“You’re not buying me a car, Ezra.”
“Don’t fight,” Wyatt whimpers anxiously from the backseat.
We share a glance. “Truce?” she whispers and I nod.
“We’re not fighting but I’m afraid we can’t play pinball tonight.”
That starts a mini-mutiny until I tell him firmly to hush when Callie starts holding her head. I half expect Callie to fuss at me for correcting him but she doesn’t. “I’ll be fine, Ezra. I’ll get Wyatt some dinner at home and his bath done and then sleep.”
“Like hell, you will.”
“Ezra said hell,” Wyatt gasps from behind me.
“I get mad when your mother is being too stubborn for her own good. Now, we’re going to your apartment, I’m going to make some dinner while you take your bath and then I’m going to take care of your mother because she is sick… and stubborn.”
“And, you’re overbearing, Big Bird.”
Wyatt giggles at that but Callie’s still holding her head. I press down on the gas pedal harder.
∞∞∞
Callie’s little kitchen has that same hand-painted hummingbird backsplash behind the sink just like at her mother’s. There’s a feeder hanging outside the window, too. Everything is clean and cozy here, oozing with warmth and love.
Wyatt’s bathed and smells like minty body wash with a fresh bandage on his chin. He’s standing on a chair, wedged between me and the kitchen counter. He just comes up to my chin and my lips brush the crown of his head. His curls are still damp from the bath. Nothing has ever felt more like home to me.
“Just like that,” I say, making sure he doesn’t over stir the batter. My culinary skills are limited and so was Callie’s pantry. Pancakes for dinner suited Wyatt.
I can hear the doctor speaking in hushed tones down the hallway. “Is she real bad sick?” Wyatt whispers as I pour out batter onto the griddle.
“It’s the flu but she’ll get better.”
“Then, how come the doctor’s here? I’ve never seen a doctor come to the house. Not even when my ear hurt so bad that one time when I was little.”
“He’s here because I asked him to come.” He’d been a team doctor in New York who retired to California. He didn’t mind doing me a favor especially when I mentioned free season tickets.
“You’ll stay with us until Mama’s better?”
“Yeah, Bump.I’m staying.”
Two hours later, Wyatt is fast asleep with a belly full of pancakes after we’ve read Grumpy Bumpy four times. The last time, I ran my finger underneath the line and let Wyatt tell me the story instead. He knew every word.
“He’s asleep?” Callie murmurs when I step in to check on her.
“Yeah, how are you?”
“I think Grumpy Bumpy backed over me.” I chuckle while turning off her bedside light. “I can’t stop shivering.” Sitting on the edge of the bed, I feel her forehead. So hot, it burns. Reaching under the covers, I find her feet. Icy cold. “Trying to cop a feel, Sokolov?”
“Where are your socks?”
She points in the general direction of her dresser. I find socks… and lacy black panties. Focus, Ezra.
She’s amused by my grumbling as I make her put the socks on, chafing her cold extremities until she starts to hum. I ply her with Acetaminophen and fetch a cool cloth for her forehead. I make her take small sips of water mixed with electrolytes. When she whimpers from body aches, I gently massage those.
“I hate being trouble.”
“You’re no trouble at all.” If she wasn’t feeling badly, I’d love every second of this.
I place another cool cloth on her brow and continue the massage. Her limbs are relaxed, her eyelids heavy. Her pink pajamas are silk. Her beautiful brown skin feels like satin. She’s such a gorgeous woman.
“Never would’ve thought you’d make a good nursemaid, Big Bird.” Her voice is slurred from fever and fatigue.
“Hush, little hummingbird, and be a good patient for once in your life.”
“I’m good. Always been a good girl. Ask my mama.”
“I’m sure you were.”
“Straight A’s in school, never in trouble, no boy trouble. Chase was my first.”
I swallow hard, not sure I want to hear this. “Your first boyfriend?”
“That, too. I waited for love but I worried he’d get tired of waiting. He was so popular and I was just me. I finally said okay. The very next night, I caught him with that other girl. It hurt so bad. I was mad and wanted him to hurt, too.”
I bow my head, not sure how to make amends to her for being the brother of a cheating asshole. “I’m sorry, Callie. Be still now. You need to rest.”
“It’s hard to be still when you’re the mama. No one takes care of the mama. We don’t get to stop and be taken care of, you know?”
“The daddy should take care of the mama so let’s pretend that’s my job, okay?”
“Mmm… yes, daddy.”
I like that purring sound combined with those words. My cock liked it entirely too much.
She quiets down as the clock hits midnight. I’ve already texted Celeste to reschedule my day tomorrow and emailed Dean Culver. They can manage without her until she’s better. “Rest, darling. I’ll be on the couch if you need me,” I whisper, touching her brow and pleased to find it not quite as hot now.
I’m nearly at the door when Callie calls for me. “Ezra? My aches don’t ache as much when you’re here. Are you afraid of catching the flu?”
“No. If I get it, I get it. I won’t complain.”
“Would you come hold me a bit?”
As if I’d ever say no.
I shed my jeans but leave my underwear and t-shirt on before climbing in behind her. That orange blossom scent surrounds me. Her body is warm, soft curves and my cock automatically swells with desire in response.
But, I hold her against my chest, breathing in and out to still my racing heart and ignore the throbbing down below. I focus on giving Callie what she needs. As I start to drift off, I hear her sigh contentedly. Her hand curls around the arm looped over her waist, keeping me close. It’s heavenly and I never want to let her go.