The Girl With Daisies (Midtown Brotherhood #3)

by Savannah Blevins

  “Why?”

  “I was eighteen and I didn’t play video games. I’d never had a girlfriend. I didn’t drink or do anything else they thought a normal eighteen-year-old guy was supposed to do. I played hockey. That was my life.”

  “You’re different now, though.”

  “I only stayed in college for two years. I’d already been drafted to the Rangers, and I was there simply to develop my skills. They thought I was ready for the NHL, and I was happy to leave.” He paused a moment to take a bite of food. “Coming here was the best decision I’ve ever made.”

  “Henrik, Austin, and the rest of them…they are like family to you.”

  “Definitely. I’m really going to miss them.”

  Penny reached over and touched his knee. “Leila told me. Do you think it’s true? They are really going to trade you?”

  He stared at his noodles. “That’s the rumor.”

  It fell quiet. For the first time in Callen’s life, the silence stung his gut. Penny quickly changed the subject, commenting on the show. He was thankful for the distraction. He didn’t want to think about the future right now. Tonight, he only wanted to think about Penny. They ate their dinner as they watched the first two episodes. Callen helped her clean up the mess when she paused the show. He sat back down on the couch next to her and smiled. “Are you going to give me the tour?”

  Penny eyed him playfully. “Are you trying to weasel your way into my bedroom, Callen Copley?”

  “Weasel? Absolutely not. I do not weasel my way anywhere.” He reached over and pulled her closer. “I didn’t mention your bedroom, but since it’s obviously on your mind…”

  Her body was so warm. He honestly hadn’t meant his request in the way she thought, but now that she mentioned it, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. He definitely wanted in her bedroom. Under her sheets. Tangled up with her.

  Penny stood and gently tugged on his hand. “Well, as you can see, this is the living room, and that’s the kitchen.”

  “It’s lovely.” He followed after her. “Very colorful. Very Penny.”

  Her purple couch was accented by canary yellow pillows, distressed end tables, and stained glass picture frames. Pots of flowers sat on the windowsill and on the counters, while a fluffy patchwork blanket hung over the arm of an end chair.

  Penny cocked an eyebrow at him as she led him down the tiny hallway. “Are you making fun of me?”

  “Never,” he said seriously. “I like everything about you. The flowers. Your hair. The never ending amusement with your wardrobe. It’s what kept me coming back. It’s what keeps me wanting more.”

  Penny bit her lip and paused in front of the first doorway. She nodded toward it. “Bathroom.”

  Callen leaned past her to see the other door after it. “And that one?”

  Penny stepped aside. “Go see for yourself.”

  Intrigued, Callen opened the door. It was her bedroom. It was everything he expected and more. Her four-poster bed stood high off the floor, draped in thick fabric. The walls were a soft lilac, and he was certain purple had to be her favorite color. From her shorts, to her couch, and now her bedroom. He liked that she was so passionate about the things she loved. Even the little things.

  An antique mirror sat on her dresser with a diamond-like brooch next to it. He’d never seen her wear that in her hair, but he imagined it would be beautiful. Hanging around a lamp was the long, compass necklace she always wore. He touched it, running his fingers over the foggy glass. He turned it back and forth, but the needle didn’t work quite right. “I think your compass is broken.”

  Penny’s hands wrapped around his waist, her chin resting on the side of his arm as she peered around him. “It’s not broken. It’s not a magnetic compass. This one points true north.”

  Callen glanced back her. “Why would you want a compass like that?”

  “It belonged to my gran. She gave it to me before she passed. She always said that every person has to find our own true north inside of us, and follow it where ever it might lead us.”

  Callen turned around. “Did you find yours?”

  Penny smiled. “Yes. It’s what led me here.”

  She took his hand and pulled him toward her bed. “Come here. I want to show you something. It’s my favorite thing about my room.”

  Callen crawled up on the bed, and Penny flipped the light off. He lay down on the pillow and looked up at the ceiling. Stars. They covered every inch of the ceiling, glowing in the dark, giving the room enough light he could make out her smile, her curves as she crawled up the bed toward him. He pointed up at them. “I used to have these in my room when I was a kid.”

  She snuggled in beside him. “What are you trying to say?”

  He laughed. “Nothing. I like them.”

  Her lips brushed his shoulder. “They came with the apartment.”

  Every touch ignited fire on his skin. He was acutely aware of every point where their skin connected. The tips of her fingers spread the fire across every inch of him. He turned into her, grazing his lips against her neck. “Tell me a story.”

  She sniggered. “Like The Three little Pigs?”

  “No. About you.”

  She stiffened, her hand pausing on his stomach. “There isn’t much to tell about me.”

  “Lie.” He pulled her over so she had to look him in the eye. His lips were only inches from hers. He wouldn’t kiss her again. He’d let her decide this time. “Tell me everything.”

  She closed her eyes, her fingers coming up to touch his lips. Did she feel the same inside? He tugged her closer, her shirt rising up. There were no shorts. There never had been. He touched the hem of the peach colored panties at her hip. Her eyes burst open and her lips parted. “My name isn’t Penny. Not technically. At least not yet.”

  Callen pulled back. She’d spoken so fast, he wasn’t sure he’d understood her correctly. “Your name isn’t Penny?”

  She shook her head, just slightly. Barely. “It’s a nickname. My grandmother gave it to me.”

  He waited for more. It looked like she wanted to say more, but for some reason she hesitated. Her hand gripped his shirt into a knot at his chest. “My mother was a drug addict who blamed my existence for ruining her modeling career. I spent a lot of nights hungry, dirty, and scared. I never stayed in a school for more than half a year before she’d drag us somewhere new because the social workers would be hot on her case. We’d stay just long enough for kids to figure out I wasn’t like them. That I wore the same clothes every day. When I got old enough and bold enough to point out her shitty parenting skills, she dropped me off on my gran’s doorstep in Wichita. It was too late, though. Memories like those don’t disappear with clean sheets and a little soap.”

  Her lips trembled. Callen held her tighter. “Baby—”

  “My gran would make me tell her every story as we worked in the garden, and after each one she would always say the same thing. Let it go. That isn’t who you are. You’re more special than even my lucky penny. It stuck.”

  Callen brushed his fingers down the side of her face. “So, what’s your real name?”

  She looked down. “I’m having it changed. I’ve already sent in the paperwork. In a couple weeks I’ll officially be Penny.”

  He titled her chin up. “You can tell me.”

  She pressed her lips tight together, as if she tried not to cry. “Esa. My real name is Esa.”

  “E-sah,” he said, trying to replicate the accent she’d used. “I’ve heard that before.”

  “What?”

  Callen tried to think where, but then it hit him. “A woman at the Bistro. She yelled at Betsy because she told her that no one named Esa worked there. The woman got really mad and called her a liar.”

  Penny sat up. “Oh my God. She’s in New York.”

  “Who?”

  “Angel.” Penny cupped her hands over her face. “I can’t believe she found me again.”

  Tears spilled over her lashes. Callen pulled h
er hands down. “Is that your mother?”

  Penny nodded. “She only wants my grandmother’s money that she left me in her will so she can continue to kill herself. She’s been calling me, but I didn’t know she was so close. It’s one of the reasons why I’ve been trying to change my name.”

  Callen hugged her. “It’s okay. I won’t let her bother you. Hell, if I get traded next week, you can come with me. Go to Detroit with me.”

  Yes. He said it. The thought that had been nagging at him ever since Austin confirmed the rumor. He wanted Penny to go with him. It was ridiculous and had the potential to be a complete disaster, but he still wanted it. If he didn’t give this thing between them a chance, it would be the biggest regret of his life.

  The tears finally leaked down her face. “You would do that?”

  “Only for you.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  PENNY’S PERFECT NIGHT

  Penny straddled Callen’s lap. She’d always wanted him. But now she had him in her bed. She had him beneath her touch, talking crazy shit about leaving this town together. Running away from it all. She wanted to pretend it could work. That she could have him like this forever. That she could finally escape the past that followed her every step. She cupped her hands around his face, tilting his chin up so her lips could reach his.

  It was perfect this time. His lips soft and patient. His hand slid up her back, taking the shirt she wore with it. She eased closer to him. Deepening the kiss. Parting his lips with her tongue, enjoying the real taste of him. No barrier between them this time. No alcohol clogging his system, masking what they both wanted.

  Callen pulled the shirt over her head and threw it as far as he possibly could across the room. She smiled down at him as he continued his kisses down the long line of her neck. “You’ve been teasing me with that thing all night,” he said, whispering against her skin.

  He adjusted himself beneath her, and it caused her confidence to rise. Her hands found his hair and then his shirt. “Touché,” she said, jerking the hem of his shirt up and over his head.

  She threw it across the room to join her own. His eyes were wild, and they ravaged her body. His fingers touched the clasp of her bra, but he didn’t unsnap it.

  The bastard. Did he not understand how this worked? How long she’d wanted him?

  Instead, he wrapped his arms all the way around her and flipped her over onto her back. The metal of the ring in his lip bit her skin as his lips traced a torturous line across her collarbone and to the top of her breasts. The clasp on her bra snapped open. She hadn’t even realized he’d touched it again. The fabric fell away at the urging of his eager touch. Her fingers gripped in his hair.

  “Damn you, Callen Copley.”

  She sucked in a breath the same time his tongue fulfilled the fantasy in her head. She hated him and worshipped him on the same jagged breath. Tonight ended it.

  She would change her last name as well. She’d forget why she came to Manhattan. She’d be this new person. The girl who worked at the Midtown Bistro who fell hopelessly in love with the beautiful man who flirted with her at the counter. Nothing more.

  His lips left her body. He raised up between her legs, smiling down at the sight of her. She reached up and snapped open the button on his jeans while he retrieved a condom from his wallet. He set it on the bed then took the jeans off. His kissed her again, his fingers tugging at the hem of her panties, pulling them down her legs. She gasped into his mouth.

  “You okay? Am I going too fast?”

  She shook her head.

  He smiled against her lips. “Say it.”

  To prove her point, she tugged the cotton of his boxers over his hips until nothing else lay between them. “I want you. Right now, until the morning and every day after it.”

  His lips pressed against her ear. She could feel the smile on them. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

  “Do you really think you’re going to get something other than yes at this point?”

  He hummed against her neck. No, he growled. It was low and deep in his chest. The condom beside her was gone. His hands on her hips, guiding her toward him. He paused. “Baby. I need an answer.”

  She kissed his lips, her tongue testing the strength of the ring. “Yes. Always yes.”

  He claimed her. Every piece of her heart. Every inch of her body. Every part of her belonged to him. And she liked it.

  She loved him.

  Nothing mattered more than Callen, this moment, and every moment with him that would come after it.

  ***

  There had never been a more perfect morning. Callen’s alarm bellowed wildly from the pocket of his jeans that lay on the floor. They paid no attention to it. It was just noise. Easily ignored and forgotten about as she kissed his swollen lips amid the morning glow that lit up her entire room.

  “Not that I care,” she said as Callen pulled her leg over his hip, “but what is that alarm signifying, exactly?”

  Callen chuckled. “What alarm? I hear no such alarm.”

  With one twist of her hips he was on top of her, his hands holding hers strategically above her head, allowing him full access to every part of her body. Then the alarm switched off, replaced by a call. Callen huffed.

  Penny pulled her hands free and sat up on her elbow. “Who is it?”

  “That’s my Captain’s ringtone.” He quickly kissed her. “Stay put. I’m not finished with you.”

  He crawled out of bed and dug his phone out of the pocket of his jeans. Penny happily obeyed his request. The view was fabulous. He answered the phone, his hand dragging through his choppy locks of black hair. “What do you want?”

  Penny started to pull the blanket over to counteract the loss of his warm skin, but he quickly pulled it away from her. “I’m fine, Henrik,” he said, answering whatever questions his friend asked him. “Did we make up?”

  He grinned at her, his fingers circling the top of her foot.

  “You could say that.”

  Callen clicked the speaker phone on so Penny could hear him. “Are you still there?” Henrik asked in disbelief.

  Penny crawled across the bed and grabbed the phone. “Yes. He is still here. And if I am to understand the game calendar on my fridge and the alarm that has been bellowing for the past ten minutes, I am about to lose him for the next two days for a road trip to Pittsburgh.”

  “We leave in two hours,” Henrik said, amusement thick in his tone. “And if I had to guess, Callen hasn’t even packed yet.”

  Penny glanced at him, and Callen winced. “I’ve been preoccupied.”

  Henrik laughed. “I bet you have.”

  “I’ll make sure he gets packed and he’s there on time to catch the plane,” Penny said, already disappointed by the thought of it.

  “Thanks. Oh, and Cali, my wife says dinner at our house next week. No exceptions.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Callen took the phone back from Penny. “I’ll see you on the plane.”

  He hung up and walked over to lean against the bed. Penny sat up, tucking her hair behind her ear. “You have to go home and pack, don’t you?”

  He sighed. “Yeah. I haven’t even unpacked from the last trip.”

  She crawled across the bed to him, getting up on her knees so she could reach his lips. She kissed them gently. “Fine. Go if you must.”

  “I’ll be back soon,” he said, wrapping his arms around her waist, snuggling her closer to his bare chest. “And I’m going to take you on that date. I want to see that dress you were going to wear.”

  She grinned at him. “It’s red.”

  He groaned, tortured and happy, into her hair. “Of course it is.”

  He kissed her, gentle at first, but the desire that had been stirring only minutes ago quickly returned. Oh, how she wanted to drag him back in the bed and make him late. She gradually pulled away. “I promised your captain you’d be there on time.”

  “Ugh. You’re right. I don’t need to give them another reason to want to get r
id of me.”

  Penny’s thumb rubbed across his shoulder. “Just don’t worry about it. Whatever happens…happens. We’ll figure it out.”

  “We?” He couldn’t stop smiling, and neither could she.

  “Yes…we.”

  The decision was made. She was part of his life now. She had to figure out a way to make it all work.

  Chapter Sixteen

  CALLEN’S POSER

  A hat trick. The dream of every twelve-year-old who ever laced up a pair of skates. Callen was sixteen when he got his first one. He was in the under eighteen tournament, representing Canada against Finland. It was that night, on the third goal, as his team mates he barely knew piled on top of him in celebration, that he knew he wanted to play hockey for the rest of his life.

  The arena in Pittsburgh was a hideous gold. Every fan in the building cursed in his direction. The play happened in slow motion. Actually, the entire game happened in slow motion. Pittsburgh had scored early, but that was it. The rest of the game had belonged to him. He got a breakaway at the end of the first, and triple deked the goalie as if he wasn’t even there. Sam practically took his head off when he jumped in his arms.

  He’d finally scored a goal.

  He wasn’t done yet, though. At the beginning of the second period, he deflected a shot straight over the goalie’s left pad. And then, the play he’d remember forever. He carried the puck behind the net, a Pittsburgh defensemen tight on his heels. He could have passed it back to Sam who trailed behind him, but something told him the pass would get cut off. So he took a chance. He faked the pass, whipped himself around the goal to beat the goalie who slid across to protect the corner, and slid the puck inside the net for his first ever three-goal game in the NHL.

  His slump was over.

  Done.

  Henrik and Austin carried him off the ice. “Cali. Cali,” they chanted down the hall after the game. Once they got him in the locker room, they threw him on the floor and dog piled him. “Enough,” he yelled from the bottom of the pile. There were at least eight hundred pounds of stink on top of him and he needed air. One by one they finally let him free, and Henrik pulled him up off the floor.