“Exactly.”
Josie stepped into the room, taking up a position against the wall. But she didn’t jump into the discussion.
Still up to him, then. Holt stroked the cat. “Now, let’s say sex is like driving a car.”
Choking on a laugh, Josie murmured, “There’s a unique comparison.”
Carson’s expression held puzzlement.
“Just go along with me, children.” Holt hoped to hell he could say this right…without getting into a birds-and-the-bees lecture. “Sex is something you choose to do, and like with everything else, there can be consequences. One result can be a baby.”
Brows together, Carson sat on the floor and pulled on a sock. “What’s the consequence for making a baby?”
“The mother and father are responsible for the child until he reaches eighteen. Even if a parent isn’t involved in the hands-on raising, well, a kid still eats food, needs clothes, all that stuff.”
“Oh.” Carson studied the other sock in his hands. “Everett should help, like, pay for my food?”
“He should have been doing that all along, yes.”
Carson kept turning over the sock in his hands. Silently.
Not good. “Tell me what you’re thinking, ace.”
“I eat a lot. Maybe…firefighters probably don’t make much money. I could… I don’t need to eat as much.”
Fuck. That sure as hell hadn’t been his point. Holt held up his hand to let Josie know he was still at bat. She—bless her—let him take his swing.
“Money isn’t a problem for me, Carson.” Holt set the cat to one side and dropped to the floor beside the boy. “I earned a lot of money when I was modeling, chose good investments, and I make a good salary now.”
Carson’s head was still bowed.
Holt slung an arm over his shoulders and pulled him close. “You’re my kid, dumbass,” he said lightly. “Even if I didn’t have money, I’d still share you with your mom. I’d just work harder to help support you.”
“Then…why?” Carson had big eyes the color of chocolate. Puppy-dog-eyes that could turn a guy’s heart inside out. Perhaps it was best Josie’d had him up to now. With Holt, the boy would’ve been spoiled rotten.
“We’re not going after Everett for the money. It’s because he should be held responsible for his actions.” And it sucked that retroactive payments were capped at two years and the statute of limitations had passed for criminal charges. Holt would have preferred to send the asshole to jail. Ah, well. “We plan to dump whatever he coughs up into your college fund.”
“Oh.” After a second, Carson wrinkled his freckled nose. “College?”
“Yep. Call it a consequence for being so damn smart.”
Carson started to grin. “Did you call me dumbass in front of Mom?”
A grumbling sound came from Josie. “He did.”
“Just had to point that out, didn’t you, brat?” Holt tipped Carson over on his back and dug his fingers into the kid’s ribs until giggles filled the room.
Fuck, he loved this kid.
A few minutes later, they were heading out the door when the house phone rang. “Great timing.” With a grunt of exasperation, Holt grabbed it. “Yes?”
A pause.
“Ah, do I have Josie Collier’s home?” The woman’s voice with a light Southern accent was familiar, but he couldn’t quite recall whom it belonged to.
“That’s correct. May I ask who’s calling?” After the fire, they’d had more than a few calls from reporters, and Holt took point on those whenever possible.
“Of course. I’m Pamela, Everett Lanning’s soon-to-be ex-wife.” As Holt motioned Josie close enough to listen, the woman continued with a thread of cynical humor running through her tone. “I’ve spent the last couple weeks explaining to Timothy and Britney how their father could have a son we didn’t know about.”
Holt winced. “Ouch.”
“Oh, yes. However, the children are thrilled they have a half-brother. As far as they—and I—are concerned, a sibling is a sibling. Would y’all be amenable to letting them get to know each other?”
With a wide grin, Josie nodded.
Holt looked down and saw Carson had moved close enough to hear as well. The kid looked as pleased as his mother—because his heart was just as big.
“We look forward to seeing you all.” Holt ruffled his son’s hair and smiled. It seemed his family was expanding again.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Two weeks later, Josie sat in the back seat of Max’s car beside Rainie. Leaning forward, Josie tapped Zuri’s shoulder. “You only said out for drinks. So where exactly are we going?”
“Oh, somewhere nice,” Zuri said.
Max’s smile flashed, but he didn’t answer.
In the back seat, Rainie giggled and stayed silent.
Suspicious, Josie frowned at the streets going by and then straightened. She recognized this area. In fact…
Max pulled the car to the curb in front of The Highlands.
Josie stared. “You’ve got to be kidding. You do know I used to work here.”
“We know—and it’s a great place.” Zuri slid out, not waiting for Max to open her door. “Won’t it be fun to be a customer for a change?”
“Hmm. Maybe.” Back at the Highlands. Where she’d been fired. Shaking her head, Josie followed.
Well, at least she was dressed to be a customer. And hey, she looked pretty damn good, too. Her faux black leather bralette pushed up her small breasts to create rather impressive cleavage. Her wide-legged black velvet pants and black stilettos added a touch of sophistication. “You know, I wish Holt could have seen me. I look pretty sexy.”
“You do.” Rainie grinned. “Although, I’ve noticed two-thirds of our work is wasted on a guy. They get the overall impression—oooo, cleavage. Oh, short skirts. Red lips. But it takes another woman to notice things like the way your gold choker matches your earrings and your nail polish.”
Zuri nodded a fashion-buyer’s approval. “The gold and black combination is very classy.”
“Holt gave me the choker and earrings last night.” Josie ran her fingers over the necklace. “He said he wanted to remind me of who my Dom is.” Then he’d reinforced his words in the most intimate way possible.
“Masters are so possessive. That’s why my Dragon Doms gave me this bracelet.” Zuri lifted her wrist. The diamond-studded cuff-style bracelet was shaped like a dragon.
“Yep, that’s why.” Max walked over, tilted Zuri’s head up, and planted a kiss on her lips. “So remember that and behave yourself, princess. I’ll be back for you later.”
“Behave? Pffft.” Laughing, Zuri linked her arm with Josie’s, grabbed Rainie’s hand, and pulled them toward the door.
As they walked in, Josie tried to view the place as a customer. The room felt like an old English library with dark wood tables and leather furniture. The left wall with the gas fireplace was aged red brick. Behind the bar, shelf after shelf of gleaming bottles climbed to the ceiling. A rolling ladder made it possible for bartenders to access the top shelves.
“They’re here!”
At the cheering from the right, Josie stopped dead. She turned.
The round table held…women from the Shadowlands. Josie glanced at Zuri and Rainie. “Uh… Am I crashing a party or something?”
All Zuri’d said was that she and Rainie were taking Josie out on Thursday night. For drinks.
“It’s not a party.” Zuri tugged her forward. “The Shadowkittens try to go out every month or so for rowdy times.”
Shadowkittens. The word referred to the submissives and slaves of the official Shadowland Masters. Josie blinked. Holt was a Master which meant…she was one of the Shadowkittens. Warmth spilled through her like the first sip of aged whisky.
The table held exactly three empty chairs. They’d been expected. Rainie and Zuri sat down on Josie’s right beside brunette, bubbly Sally who’d been at Anne’s barbecue with her two Doms.
&n
bsp; Andrea, Cullen’s submissive, was across the table. “We’re so glad you could make it.”
On Josie’s left was redheaded Linda, Master Sam’s woman. She patted Josie’s hand. “You’re looking much better. Did everything get resolved?”
“It did—thanks partly to your advice.” Josie gave her a grateful smile. “You know, having trouble with a man is bad enough, but adding my son into the mix made it awful.”
“You’re right. A child can add a whole new level of distress to arguments.” Across the table, Kari looked at Josie with obvious worry. “Two children would be even worse. Maybe Dan and I don’t want another baby.”
“You have a good point.” It might make for a bumpy ride, but Josie still wanted to give Holt a baby or two. Smiling, she asked Jessica, “How about you? Are you and Master Z planning another child? Sophia’s simply adorable.”
“When did you meet Sophia?” Rainie asked Josie. “Wait, I know.” She pointed at Jessica. “You’re starting her out real early in the Shadowlands. Doing Domme training.”
“Sophia has the Domme attitude already. No training needed.” Jessica laughed. “Josie met our small bundle of trouble last weekend when Anne brought baby Wyatt to visit. Josie ran upstairs to see them before her shift.”
Josie snorted. “And that was a mistake. When I was late getting back downstairs to the bar, Master Nolan had to fill in, and he wasn’t pleased.”
As the table of women made sympathetic sounds, Josie shook her head at the memory…
She had raised the pass-through and stopped just inside the bar space. Holt was pouring a beer for someone. She smiled. Would there ever come a time when her heart didn’t do a happy spin at the sight of him?
Unfortunately, another Master was also behind the bar. Master Nolan. Doing her job. Because she hadn’t been here. She felt a stab of guilt.
Nolan gave her a hard stare. “You’re late, sugar.”
“I’m so sorry.” With a different Master, she’d have tried a funny rejoinder, but this Dom kind of scared her. Instead, she employed one of Carson’s techniques—blame the authorities. “It’s Mistress Anne’s fault. She was in a bad mood and wanted advice on how to breast-feed when holding down a job. She wouldn’t let me leave until I explained everything.” Josie shook her head. “I’ve heard stories about her, and…I didn’t want her annoyed with me.”
Master Nolan’s expression didn’t change, but his black eyes lit with amusement. “Probably a wise choice, although now I’m annoyed with you.”
Josie took a step back.
Laughing, Holt walked over. He ran his hands up and down her arms and gave her a swift kiss. “Relax, pet. Nolan has to ask my permission to beat on you.”
“Really? You mean I can sass off to anyone and be safe?”
Even as she heard Nolan snort, Holt chuckled. “No. It means I get the pleasure of spanking your cute little ass.”
And, later that night, he’d done exactly that. The brute.
Josie grinned at the women around the table. “I suffered for it, but at least, I got to meet Sophia—and Anne’s baby. Wyatt looks as if he’ll grow to be as big as Ben.”
“And he has Anne’s hair. He’ll be tall, dark, and muscular.” Sally tapped her chest. “Be still my heart.”
Zuri giggled. “Ben’d wanted to name the baby George—for George Patton—but Anne talked him out of it, thank heavens. Wyatt George Haugen doesn’t sound too bad.”
“Did the Mistress talk him out of it or threaten his manhood?” Kari asked.
“Huh.” Zuri looked intrigued. “I should have asked for more details.”
“To Wyatt George Haugen.” Sally raised her glass and stopped. “Wait. You guys don’t have alcohol. How wrong is that?” She lifted her hand as Frederica, the head barmaid, approached.
“What can I get you ladies?” Frederica’s eyes widened. “Josie? Josie, tell me you’re coming back to us!” Setting her tray on the table, she hugged Josie hard.
Josie hugged her back. How had she not realized how much she missed the gang here? “Frederica, it’s good to see you.”
“You are returning, aren’t you? Oh my heavenly stars, it’s been horrible since you left. That girl can’t pour a decent drink to save her life, and I’m the one who has to listen to the complaints.”
Under the table, Zuri kicked Josie. “Told you.”
Ouch. Josie started to answer, then stopped as the manager stopped at the table.
“Josie, great timing.” His smile was big…and as fake as his look of regret had been when he fired her. “We’ll soon have an open bartender position and would love to have you back. Our clientele has been asking where you went.”
Grumbles came from the tables around them, along with a “demanding her return, more like” from one of the men.
She’d been missed. The knowledge was gratifying. “I—”
“Return here?” Andrea interrupted. “Dios, no. No way will you steal our bartender away.”
A chorus of agreement came from the Shadowkittens.
Jessica lifted her chin and stared at the manager. “I’m afraid that Josie belongs to us now—and we know how to appreciate her.”
Warmth swept through Josie.
The manager’s shoulders slumped, but he knew better than to argue with the bar’s clientele. “Of course.” He gave her another false smile. “Good to see you.”
As he walked away, Frederica heaved an unhappy sigh. “Damn. Still, I’m glad you landed on your feet, even if you’re sorely missed here. Now, what can I get you?”
“Thank you, Frederica.” Josie looked at the others. “What are y’all drinking?”
“Pitchers of Vieux Carre,” Sally said blithely.
“Seriously?” Boy, the Shadowkittens didn’t mess around. The New Orleans cocktail was seriously potent. “Ooookay, then.” Josie looked at Frederica. “Can you start me a tab and…”
“No, Josie,” Linda said. The other women were shaking their heads.
Jessica snorted. “We’ve tried to pay, but our Do—men always deal with the bill.”
“That’d be nice, but Holt is working tonight, so I—”
“Doesn’t matter,” Zuri said. “None of them will let you pay.”
“Bossy buggers,” Josie muttered, making the group laugh.
“You have a man?” Frederica beamed as Josie nodded. “I can’t wait to meet him. You deserve someone wonderful.”
“She really does,” Rainie said. “And he is.”
“Will y’all be having the Vieux Carre then?” Frederica asked. When Josie, Rainie, and Zuri nodded, she said, “I’ll bring more pitchers and glasses then.”
“Perfect, thank you.” Linda smiled at Frederica. “Could you also order us some stuffed mushrooms and a cheese platter, please?”
“Oh, also tater tots. Please,” Andrea said. “I love them.”
“A New Orleans drink—and tater tots. That’s wonderfully perverse.” Rainie looked up at Frederica. “Can you make the tots a double order, please?”
“Got it.” Frederica patted Josie’s shoulder and headed for the bar.
When the barmaid handed in the order for more pitchers of the time-consuming drink, the manager’s poor niece looked ready to cry.
Josie mentally sent her some calming thoughts, then settled back to enjoy being on the receiving end of food and drinks.
Alcohol and the Shadowkittens. Josie remembered being on the other side of the bar, watching the Shadowkittens partying, and envying them for their joyful comradeship. As the evening went on, she basked in being part of the group.
A long while later that night, she realized she was giggling. Giggling. Her? “Oh, God, I’m drunk.”
Zuri busted out laughing.
“You really are.” Jessica grinned. “We have been here a while, after all.”
“But I almost never get toasted.” Josie touched her lips. Definitely some numbness going on.
“Is Carson taken care of?” Linda asked.
“
You’re such a mom, but yes, he is. He’s with my great-aunt tonight.” She eyed the table of women. No one was sober. “I asked Holt if I was being over-cautious, and he laughed. He knew y’all would be here, didn’t he?”
“Of course he did. And that we’d be drinking.” Kari raised her glass in a toast. “Zane is with my mama.”
“Sophia is with her grandmother.” Jessica clinked her glass against Kari’s.
“However, it is getting late, and I have to open the store tomorrow.” Linda owned a small beachfront store. “It’s probably time to call it quits.”
“I suppose. We all have to work tomorrow.” Rainie pointed a finger at Josie. “At least, you don’t have to go in until evening.”
“I’m spoiled that way.” However, she planned to start her new book tomorrow. Stopping now would be wise. “I’m going to call for a taxi. Do any of y’all need a ride?”
Jessica looked around the room, and her gaze landed on something behind Josie. She lifted hand in a hail. “Nope, we’re good. And if you call for a taxi, you might get in trouble.”
Josie frowned. “You mean one of the Masters will give me a ride? That’d be—”
“This Master will give you a ride,” Holt murmured, his resonant voice a heady caress along her nerve endings. His arms came around her from behind, and his warm cheek rubbed against hers.
“You’re here!” She tipped her head back and got herself an upside-down kiss. When her head stopped spinning, she saw the rest of the Shadowlands Masters claiming their women. “I thought you were working late.”
“I did. I think you lost track of time.” Holt ran a finger down her cheek. “You’re tipsy, pet.” His wicked smile flashed. “Perhaps I’ll take advantage of you while you are.”
“Why…you…you…” Uh-uh, don’t call the Dom a pervert. When his steely blue gaze met hers, she clamped her lips shut, remembering the last time she’d called him a name. How his callused hand had felt dealing out each stinging spank on her bare bottom…and afterward, how hard she’d come.
When she didn’t finish her sentence, laughter lightened his eyes.
After helping her stand, he held her at arms-length. His gaze took her in, head to toes, and lingered on the bralette. “Jesus, if I’d seen you wearing this, you’d never have made it out of the house.”
Beneath the Scars Page 38