Chapter 26
Callahan
“WHY DO YOU THINK Mia is so adamant to befriend her?” I grumbled to my brother, who was taking his sweet-ass time walking to my car. “What the fuck took you so long to get here?”
“They’re fine. Archer’s with them. You know that, right?” Jameson frowned at me like I was being overbearing.
“Might I remind you how you acted with Mia not so long ago, asshole? Not to mention my girl has a mean streak.”
“Your girl?” Jameson questioned, and when I didn’t deny it, he said, “Never got over her, did you?”
“How could I get over her? You saw her at the gates. She’s a damn menace clouding my judgment and every single thing I thought I cared about.”
“Maybe she’s making you care about the right things, then.”
I grumbled but didn’t disagree. “Just hurry up and get in the damn car.”
“If we don’t give them space, they’ll leave us,” he said, closing the door. I put the car in drive immediately. “Mia’s already told me once or twice.”
“And you just can’t live without the woman now?” I chuckled.
Jameson was serious when he responded, though. “I can’t. Neither can Fran.”
I nodded, sobering a bit. I didn’t ever want Fran to lose Mia—or anyone else in her life, for that matter. “You marrying Mia any time soon?”
“Not before you marry your fiancée, it seems.”
I let that sink in. I was getting married before my brother, who was wildly in love. “How do you feel about that?”
“About what?” he asked like he wasn’t even paying attention.
“About the fact that I’m fast-tracking this wedding and getting married before you?” I asked as I sped down my long driveway and turned onto the road.
“Married for the Diamonds. A contract that’s only—”
“Might be longer,” I cut him off.
“Longer because?”
“Because what if I want to keep her?” I said.
“You don’t keep women like Jasmina, Cal. She’ll only stay if she wants to.”
“We’ll see,” I grumbled, not even slowing for one of Paradise Grove’s stop signs.
He gave me that inquisitive look. “You good?”
“Why wouldn’t I be good?”
“Because you’re going fifty in a twenty-five to go hover over a woman who’s more than capable of taking care of herself when she’s only supposed to be a contract wife.”
I growled at the statement. “She’s more than that.”
“No … really?” he said as he chuckled. “We’re still cleaning up your display at the gates. Also, I’ve been told that Demi got kicked out of your house the other night and not at all nicely.”
“By who?”
“Word in Paradise Grove is Lucille is putting it in her monthly digest for the community.”
“Her what?” My hands tightened on the wheel.
“It’s basically a gossip mag.”
No wonder I didn’t know about it. What the fuck? “Jesus Christ. She’d better not.”
“Might want to have a word with her, then.” That woman had no damn boundaries. “Mom’s worried you’re falling for the Ruiz girl too. Are you?”
“How many people in this town are you talking to about us?”
“As many as I need to.” He shrugged.
“I’ve got my relationship under control. Worry about your own.”
“Well, in that case, I’ll let you know. We uncovered a few things about what happened to Jasmina before you brought her here …” He waited a moment, and then said, “She was beaten. Badly. Within inches of her life.”
Before I could even ask, he handed over his phone. “Watch the footage when we pull up.”
“Give me the summary,” I demanded. We were only a minute away, if that, but I wanted to know immediately.
“Something’s amiss with the funeral that night. I can’t say for sure, but it looks like her family is protecting someone.”
“What do you mean?” And that’s when I got to the club, where I was able to park and press play on my phone.
Footage showed Monte and Perla leaving Paolo’s home, and Monte waved Perla to the car.
It would have been a normal video had I not seen the security system logs that Jameson had acquired showing Monte never set the system.
Along with that, cameras went down.
I’m sure Jasmina wouldn’t have asked more.
I’m sure they told her they were working on it.
But she had to know something, right? She must have seen a face, a marking, something that could help them identify those people.
So, the fact that they hadn’t been found and she still had so much blind fucking faith in that family was beyond my understanding.
Jameson cleared his throat. “She was there when they left, obviously.” The video skipped to three men going in.
“Got names of the three men?”
“Not yet. But we’re working on it.”
When they left, they were wounded, of course. My viper wasn’t going to let them escape unscathed.
“How do you know she was hurt? She’s been fine.” I was shaking my head, and then I glanced at my brother. I remembered the gash on her lip but not much else. I was the best at reading people, good at finding weakness, and prided myself on being hyperaware of someone’s vulnerabilities.
Yet, maybe I’d been too focused on my damn desire for her to see past anything else.
He pointed to the phone for me to keep watching. And it skipped to daylight, Jasmina walking out with bruises and holding her stomach. “She’s good at acting fine, I’m assuming.”
“She’s acting fine and about to play tennis with Mia,” I grumbled. “Over my fucking dead body.”
I ripped the car door open, and Jameson was hot on my heels as I strode through the club, not stopping to say hi to anyone. “Cal, assess the situation for a minute and consider how you’re going to approach her.”
“I’m going to drag her back to the estate and lock her up where I can keep her safe.”
“I did that to Mia, and it didn’t end well.”
“You’re not very skilled in coercion,” I told him, striding past the apparel store and the dining area to where the tennis courts would be out back.
Jameson grabbed my arm then to stop me. “She’s in enemy territory—”
“I’m not her enemy, brother. Not anymore.” I made it clear.
“That might be, but she’s probably felt that way,” he argued. “I don’t give a shit how you handle her, but if you want her to stay, if you want a chance, she needs to figure out her family’s transgressions herself. She won’t believe us if we just bombard her with them.”
My jaw ticked. My heart pounded. My mind whirred as I thought through the scenarios.
“I’m going to fucking kill all of that family, I swear to God.”
“Or we’ll have to learn to live with them if you’re set on that woman being your wife for real,” he pointed out at the far tennis court.
Jasmina Ruiz was a riot of color in a world of whites and beige.
Even under the brutal, honest glare of the midday sun, she was flawless.
So brilliant that, for a second, the air stalled in my lungs.
She was standing at the edge of one of the courts laughing with Mia, the light catching the rebellious sapphire streaks in her blonde hair and making them almost glow against the backdrop of the boring country club.
There was a sharp, predatory elegance in the way she held herself.
She didn’t really fit in, but that was the point.
She stood there with a casual, devastating confidence that suggested the entire club was her stage, and we were all lucky enough to be in the audience.
Her tennis outfit was a blinding, crisp blue pleated skirt that was so damn short, it was tempting near every man to look toward her honey-tanned legs.
I swear every male on the veranda had conveniently forgotten their own sport or the scotch they’d been drinking, their eyes anchored to her specific court.
“Theodore, stop looking at my fiancée,” I growled at one of the patrons as I walked by.
“Fiancée? No ring on her finger, Cal. Can’t blame a guy—”
“I can, and I will if you keep staring. Look at my girl again, and I’ll make sure there’s no way for you to look in the future,” I told him pointedly. The asshole was always slimy as it was. He needed to be put back in line even if it wasn’t with Jasmina.
“He’s got a point, though. Got to get her a ring,” my brother mumbled as we made our way over to the courts, where another couple of guys was approaching Mia and my viper.
“Why can’t the male species just not act like fucking animals?” I growled, coming to stand at the sideline of the courts where I could stare them all down. “You all enjoying flirting with the woman I’m about to marry?”
The man took a step back immediately, the realization of who he was hitting on pummeling him like a physical blow.
Another tried to puff up his chest, a desperate play at bravado, but when Jasmina’s gaze flicked to mine and a slow, wicked smile spread across her face, he withered. He knew he didn’t stand a chance.
“Overprotective today, Cally baby?” she asked, her voice a melodic, singsong taunt designed to grate on my nerves.
I didn’t give her the satisfaction of an answer.
I didn’t say a single word. Instead, I closed the distance quickly between us.
My hand hooked around her waist, fingers digging into that short white skirt as I gripped her hip and hauled her flush against me so there was no space between us except the heat of the sun and the frantic thrum of her heart against my chest.
And then I crashed my mouth down onto hers.
The sound of her tennis racket clattering onto the clay was the only thing that broke the sudden, stunned silence of the club. She let out a sharp, muffled gasp against my lips, her body tensing for a fraction of a second before the fight left her entirely.
Damn, did I love the way her body practically melted in my arms every time I kissed her. I tasted the defiance in her mouth until it softened into surrender. My hand shifted, palm heavy and possessive, staking a claim on her body that the entire world could see.
Her fingers curled into the lapels of my jacket, anchoring herself as I deepened the kiss. I was staking a claim on her, devastatingly and with finality. On her lips. On her skin. On her heart.