Every Kiss (30 page)

“So it’s serious?”

“Yes.”

She sighs. “You’re going to give your dad a heart attack.
He’s been dreading this day since you were born. He knows you’ve dated and all
that, but this is the first guy you’ve really brought home. This is big.”

“Don’t start naming your grandchildren,” I throw in her
earlier quote. “Just give him a chance. If Dad gets to know him, I think he’ll
be just fine. Wes is a good man.”

“How old of a man is he exactly?”

“Don’t freak . . . he’s twenty-six.”

She just stares at me blankly.

“Just five years older, mom. He has a great job, has his own
house, and he has an amazing, supportive family. You’ve met his brother, you
know. Shane? Makenna’s boyfriend?”

Her mouth falls open slightly. “I like Shane. He’s a very
polite young man, but he’s not twenty-six, Callie. Please just tell me he isn’t
married with kids.”

“Uh . . . he’s divorced.” I’m not even going to broach the
subject of kids because I honestly don’t know the answer. I really need to talk
to him about that.

“Callie!”

“Mom, just get to know him. Please don’t make assumptions.”

“Okay, fine,” she sighs, closing her eyes and shaking her
head. “I’ll try.”

She doesn’t say another word while we set the table, but the
deep murmur of voices echoing from the living room is reassuring. It seems like
he and my dad are getting along, at least. I even hear my dad chuckle a time or
two.

When Mom calls them into the dining room, it all becomes a
little too real. Wes sits next to me, and my parents sit across from us, like
we’re about to be interrogated. No, I
know
we’re about to get
interrogated. Polite conversation begins as soon as we’re seated, and continues
while we’re passing dishes around. And I just almost start to believe they’re
going to behave.

“So Callie tells me you’re divorced.” Mom casually drops the
bomb and takes a bite of her salad as if she just mentioned the weather.

Dad, of course, completely drops his fork, and it clanks
against his plate.

Wes cuts his eyes at me, but looks back at my mom directly,
resting his hands in his lap before answering. “I am. About seven years now. I
was young, dumb, and thought I was in love. My wife left me before our first
anniversary.”

I reach over and take his hand, but I’m surprised when he
squeezes. I know what a hard subject this is for him, and it means a lot that
he’s enduring it for me.

My mom, on the other hand, is playing hard ball. “So I guess
in that short of a time that means you never had children?”

Damn it. I should’ve told her this so he wouldn’t have to
talk about it.

He shakes his head ever-so-slightly. “No, ma’am. Not
exactly. My child died before birth.”

Her hand flies to cover her mouth. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. It was a long time ago.”

Dad finally comes to his rescue, clearing his throat. “So,
what do you do for a living? You’re out of college, I’m guessing.”

“Yes, sir, for a little while. I’m the CFO of Fields and
Lehman Analytics. We design accounting software for several different
industries, many of which are international.” He takes a deep breath and blows
it out. “Look, I know you’re both wary of me, and it’s only because you’re
being protective of your daughter. I completely understand that. I’m an open
book, and I have absolutely nothing to hide, so if there’s anything you want to
know, just ask. It doesn’t matter how ridiculous. Yes, I’m a little older than
she is, but it also enables me to be more settled and know what I want out of
my life; although, I didn’t really know until Callie walked into it. I own my
own home and I have reliable transportation . . . both completely paid for. I
don’t smoke or do drugs, but I won’t lie and say I don’t drink on occasion. I
have a lot of respect for Callie, and she’s helped me through some really tough
family issues lately. I’m saying all of this to let you know that I care about
her, I have the ability to provide for her, and even though I’ve only known her
for a few months, I love her more than any man ever could.”

Mom raises her eyebrows. Yeah, that’ll shut her up.

“Well, son, I guess that answers all of my questions.” Dad
nods with the slightest smile. “Let’s eat.”

SOFT LIPS PRESS to my temple,
rousing me from deep sleep. “Mmmm . . .” I moan and stretch.

“Mornin’,” Wes mumbles sleepily, reaching out to pull me
into his chest.

I peek out one eye toward the window, not even a glimmer of
light is visible. “Not morning yet.”

“You can go back to sleep in just a minute. I’m about to get
up and get ready for work, but it’s going to be awful hard to leave you in my
bed all warm and naked.”

“Well,” I begin, turning to face him and throwing a leg over
his hip. “You can always just
not
leave. Work will be there tomorrow.”

“You’re a bad influence, you know that? I have an important
meeting this morning, but I’ll be home around lunch. Then . . .” He kisses just
below my earlobe. “. . . we just might have to revisit the whole naked in bed
thing before we leave. Better yet, don’t shower until I get home, and I’ll join
you. Two birds, one stone.”

“Multitasking. I like it.” I also like the idea of him all
hot, wet, and soapy in the shower.

He kisses me one last time, this time full on the mouth.
“Good. Be thinking about that until I get back. But for now, get some rest.”

He rolls out of bed and pads quietly into the closet,
flicking the light on and giving me a prime view of his glorious, firm body.
He’s all hard lines and sinew and strength wrapped in perfectly bronze skin.
And he’s with
me
. I may not ever understand it.

Wes grabs the suit of the day and just as he starts to step
out, he catches me watching. “Were you looking at my ass, sweetheart?” he asks
with a wide grin.

I smirk. “Among other things. Just getting the visual of
what I’m supposed to think about all day.”

“Callie,” he growls. “I’m getting out of here before you get
me into trouble.”

I giggle wickedly, scooting over to lie in his place on the
bed, still warm from his body. I listen to him move around the house,
showering, making coffee, humming to himself. He’s in a good mood today, but
then again, I haven’t seen a bad one in a few days now. He was especially
hopefully after we went to visit Chesley at the hospital last night. The doctor
told him that she should be able to go home by the weekend. Eve even dropped by
while we were there, and I think she was a little surprised to see him holding
my hand. But she shared a secret smile with me.

After I hear his jeep pull out of the drive, I try to fall
back to sleep, I really do, but I can’t because I’m hungry. It was too weird at
dinner last night with my parents, so I didn’t eat much, and by the time we got
here, Wes practically attacked me. I’m sure he burned off everything I did eat,
plus some.

Giving up on sleep for now, I get up and tug on one of Wes’
t-shirts and a pair of shorts from my bag. The house is still pretty dark, but
a soft glow is beginning to filter through the curtains, giving me enough light
to maneuver to the kitchen without turning on any lights. Not that I’d need
them anyway . . . the scent of fresh coffee is all I need to lead me there.

Wes has even already gotten a mug and spoon out for me,
along with my favorite creamer and sugar. The coffeepot is completely full,
too, so that tells me he only made it for me. I knew he was capable of being a
complete sweetheart, but the changes that I’ve seen in him in such a short time
are staggering. He told me he wanted to give this relationship everything he
has, and in just a few days, he’s treated me better than any guy ever has. With
this new lease on life, I’m only seeing the best of him. I think, before much
longer, he’ll finally open up to me and tell me everything else that he says I
don’t know about him.

After two cups of coffee and a blueberry bagel with cream
cheese, I’m feeling a lot better, and even though I’ve just downed all that
caffeine, I’m actually a little drowsy. I clean up my mess and turn the
coffeepot off, making sure everything is in perfect order in case I’m still
asleep when he comes home.

Curling back up on his side of the bed, I settle into his
pillow, the scent of his shampoo wafting all around me. I close my eyes and
imagine him there beside me, curled up next to me in peaceful slumber. The
quiet serenity of his slow, deep breaths. The gentle rise and fall of his
chest. The way he reaches out to me in his sleep, just to make sure I’m still
there. And by the time I fall asleep, I can almost feel him there.

THE FRONT DOOR closes so loud that I
jerk upright. Glancing at the clock, I see that I’ve only slept a couple hours,
and only being ten o’clock, he really must’ve rushed to get out of there.
Something tells me that it won’t take him long to come find me.

“He’s not here right now, Macy,” a woman’s voice echoes down
the hallway. “Daddy’s at work, but we’ll see him this evening when he gets
home.”

What. The. Hell.

“Da-da work. Cookie pwease.” A delighted child’s laughter
follows. “Cookie!”

“Yes, but only one. I’ll make you some lunch soon. Ooh, and
we can find something to cook for Daddy for dinner tonight, too, to surprise
him.”

“Suh-pwise, Da-da!”

The woman chuckles. “Yes, you can yell surprise when he gets
here. He’ll like that.”

I’m dreaming. I must be dreaming. If I close my eyes hard
enough, I’ll go back to sleep and laugh about this later. There’s no way in
hell there’s really a woman and kid in there, calling Wes “Daddy.” It’s just
not for real. It’s not in any way possible.

“Macy, baby, don’t play with Daddy’s pictures. You’ll leave
fingerprints.”

“Mama, wook . . . it’s Un-cah Shane.”

“Yes, now put the picture down.”

Damn it. Damn it all to hell. I’m not freaking dreaming and
the kid is calling Shane her uncle. That realization has me boiling. Even if
he’s not with this woman, how dare he put me in this situation? How could he
not tell me about this? Why the hell does she have a key?

I slip out of bed as quietly as I can, trying to figure out
how to proceed. Do I just stroll out there casually and introduce myself? Well,
there’s always the closet. Maybe I can just hang out in there until Wes gets
home and can explain himself.

Yeah, I don’t see that being too much fun, either. It’s not
going to be pretty.

I did suspect this all along, but this straight up pisses me
off. He should’ve told me before. I just don’t understand why he didn’t. I
thought we’d come a long way. Unless . . . unless he’s still seeing her. Maybe
he’s playing me. Or her. Or both of us.

That just really doesn’t seem like his style though. But
neither does hiding the fact that he has a daughter from me and his entire
family. Bastard.

Since I can’t exactly leave, I grab my cell phone from the
nightstand, deciding that the next best thing to do is confront him about it.
Quietly.

Me:
‘Just thought you should know, your daughter
is here. And I’m pissed.’

Remembering that he has a meeting this morning, I realize he
may not answer right away. I guess I’m just going to have to grow some balls
and walk out there, like “What’s up? Nice to meet you. Oh, that’s cool, I’m
screwing Wes, too.” Damn it, I hate him right now.

Wes:
‘Your autocorrect is all kinds of screwed up.
Try again.’

Me:
‘Your. DAUGHTER. Is. Here. You know, the one
who calls you Da-da.’

Wes:
‘Are you talking about Macy?’

Oh, so
now
he’s not going to play stupid with me.

Me:
‘Yes. Why didn’t you tell me?’

Wes:
‘Damn it. I’m in my meeting right now, but I’ll
get out of it and come straight home. Don’t run, Cal. Let me explain.’