Cautious: An Everyday Heroes World Novel (The Everyday Heroes World)
Page 4
“Oh, I got it,” she announces proudly, but I doubt it. “A pubic hair.”
I choke on my spit as Marcus roars with laughter.
“I’ll concede, that is indeed nasty, but you wouldn’t leave a man who was clearly seeing to your needs, now, would you?” I query with a wiggle of my brow, making her blush.
“Oh, I would,” she disagrees emphatically.
“Now, that just means you’ll miss out on a man going down on you.” Marcus points out the flaw in her logic, but she shakes her head like we are the ones missing the point.
“If you had a pubic hair in your teeth, I’d walk out the door without looking back because it sure as hell wouldn't be mine. I wax everything off.”
All three of us freeze at her words.
Her eyes, believe it or not, grow impossibly wider than before as if she can't believe she just said that. That makes two of us. I have to step behind her to hide my cock, which is hard enough to pound nails at the thought of Callie’s smooth pussy.
Marcus dissolves into fits of laughter. He’s loud enough to draw the attention of Arlo, Felix, and Kellen from their offices.
“Holy fuck.” She gasps when she catches sight of them. “The hot guys are multiplying,” she mumbles to herself, making me glare at her.
She throws her arms up in the air. “Don't look at me like that. I’m not used to being around this much of a…” She waves her hand around the room to indicate all of us. “Collection of hotness. You guys should be on a calendar. Wait, is there a calendar?” she asks all in one breath as she turns to face me.
“She yours, Blake?” Arlo’s voice rings out, laced with laughter.
“Damn straight,” I tell him smugly, even as her back goes ramrod straight at my words.
“Bummer,” Arlo mutters with a lip twitch.
“Now, wait a minute,” she yells as I spin her around and lean down over her.
“We went shopping for condoms,” I remind her.
“No, we did—”
“You already gave me a cute pet name,” I add with a sly unrepentant smile, cutting her off and making her splutter.
“I call you Bundy, for god’s sake,” she yells, exasperated.
“And let’s not forget how intimately acquainted I am with your pink—” She slaps her hand over my mouth before turning to face my guys who are all watching her with smiles on their faces.
“The funeral is at four. Closed casket,” she tells them, making Kellen look at her with a frown before he asks her softly.
“Whose funeral?”
She looks at him and cocks her eyebrow before pointing at me. “His.”
Chapter Seven
Callie
I’m spinning in the office chair waiting for Arlo to come back from the diner with burgers for everyone when two more hot guys walk through the door. These are dressed in smart suits, looking a little like bodyguards, but not the kind who would take a bullet in their shoulder for their charge. The kind that would catch the bullet in their teeth.
Jesus, there must be something in the water around here.
“Well, hey there, darlin’, you must be the temp covering for June,” a blond who must have been a Viking in a former life says to me, flashing a Colgate-white smile.
“Don’t bother, brother. This one belongs to Blake,” Arlo says as he walks in behind him and winks at me.
“I don't belong to anyone,” I grumble to myself.
Nobody pays any attention. It’s become increasingly obvious in the hour I’ve been here that they only hear what they want to.
The guy who came in with the Viking looks at me then over to Blake, who is talking animatedly with Marcus, before speaking to me softly.
“He’s a good guy.”
“Good guys can still be terrible boyfriends and husbands,” I point out.
He tilts his head looking at me quizzically. “How so?” he asks but something about his tone makes me think his comment isn’t as offhanded as he is trying to make it seem.
“Good guys by nature are well, good. The problem can come when they either can’t say no or can't find a balance.”
He shakes his head. “Give me an example,” he prompts.
“Okay, well, I have a friend back home who was married to a firefighter. He was a good guy, friendly, and sweet. I mean he ran into burning buildings for a living. The trouble is, he couldn’t switch it off. He worked crazy hours, just like Bella did as an ER nurse, but he filled his days and nights off with helping others. I’m not talking about helping a friend to move over the weekend, I’m talking about him being the friend everyone called for a favor because he could never say no. He had some kind of hero complex, I think. It meant Bella worked crazy hours on top of raising two sets of twins virtually alone. She was so freaking lonely but other than me, everyone would tell her that she was one of the lucky ones.”
“Sounds like she was. If he had been a soldier on deployment, she would have seen him less than that,” he tells me.
Even though he’s right, it's exactly the same thing Bella was told time and time again. It's so easy for people to pass judgment when they have no idea what it's like to walk in the other person's shoes.
“He missed the birth of his sons visiting a friend in the same hospital who had broken their leg. Then there was the time Bella had to handle four children under the age of three when a tornado rolled through town. Yes, he went to see if others needed help, but he left her alone and terrified with four children, then he had to seek shelter somewhere else because he couldn't make it home safely. He forgot to pick up his kids from daycare all the time because he was covering last-minute shifts. The list is endless. He was a good guy, but Bella was a single parent that occasionally had a man sleep on the opposite side of her bed.” I remember all too well the nights she cried on my shoulder, exhausted, feeling emotional and unloved.
“So, she left him,” he summarizes.
“No,” I answer softly, my heart tugging at the memory. “He left her when he was killed in a head-on collision while picking up a friend who had called at 2 am for a lift home from a bar.”
“Damn,” he answers.
“Yep, that about sums it up.” It's a messed-up story that ended with my friend moving back home to be closer to her parents.
“Callie, food.” I turn when I hear Blake call my name.
He indicates for me to follow, so I make my way over to him and let him lead me down a short hallway to a large break room at the back of the building.
The rest of the guys are gathered around the table littered with bags of food, making small talk. I pause in the doorway wondering why I don’t feel intimidated being the only woman here. These guys are huge. Just one of them could hurt me if they wanted to, let alone a group of them, but all I feel is safe.
“Here you go,” Blake says, pulling out a chair for me as Arlo leans over and places a box holding a burger and fries in front of me.
“Thank you.”
Blake sits beside me, grabbing his own food as the dark-haired suit from before walks in and sits opposite us.
I take a bite of my burger and moan as the taste hits my tongue. Holy crap talk about foodgasm.
“This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted.” I swallow, whispering reverently. I watch with a frown as some of the guys seem to be squirming in their seats.
“So, Callie, what do you do?” Felix, the tall strawberry blond at the end of the table, asks.
“Erm…” I say, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “I’m a product tester,” I answer, before popping a salty fry in my mouth.
“A tester? What do you test?” Felix asks.
Now it’s my turn to squirm a little. “Well, women's products mostly,” I tell him truthfully. I feel Blake pause beside me, but I keep my eyes on Felix.
“So, what, like makeup, pantyhose and tampons?” he questions with a quirked eyebrow that for some reason makes my hackles rise.
“Sometimes, sure.” I shrug nonchalantly.
“However, the bulk of my products end up being sex toys,” I tell him before taking another bite of my burger, enjoying the satisfaction I feel when he chokes on the sip of water he just took.
Of course, now they are all looking at me, so I dip my head and continue to eat.
Another perfect example of my mouth engaging before my brain.
“You lucky fucker,” I hear Arlo mumble before Blake chuckles from beside me.
“So, the invader?” he whispers into my ear, making me shiver.
I finish my mouthful and nod, before continuing to talk for some ungodly reason. “There’s a big hero/villains theme going on at the moment for some kind of convention so I’m getting some interesting products. The invader is one of them.”
“The invader?” one of the others asks from the end of the table.
“It's a hot pink vibrator that boasts sixteen different functions and is totally waterproof,” Blake parrots my words from the day we met.
I feel my face flame with embarrassment. “You’re a dick, Bundy. Now you’ve blown your chance to see the others.”
He perks up at that. “Others?”
I huff, finishing off the last of my fries before answering.
“I told you it was part of a collection. I have the womb raider and the incredible bulk to try out too, although they look a little intimidating,” I admit and realize the rest of the room has gone eerily quiet. I wince and risk a look, finding all eyes are on me.
I slide my box forward and groan, banging my head repeatedly on the table.
“Why, why, why did I tell you all that?” I lift my head and glare at them for making me overshare. “We will never speak of this again,” I order, ignoring their snickers.
“But, wait, I have questions,” Popeye calls out. I flip him off, which of course just makes everyone else laugh harder.
I growl at them before I feel Blake’s warm hand on my thigh.
“All right, guys, leave her be. I want her to come back, remember?” Blake admonishes. The others grumble good-naturedly but luckily change the subject. Eventually, the topic moves around to work, the guys most likely forgetting I’m there.
“So, what is it you guys do exactly?” I question curiously, only catching snippets.
“Well, we have our fingers in a lot of pies, but I guess most of our work tends to be in protection,” Arlo tells me.
“What, like movie stars?” Ooh, fancy. I wonder if they know Charlie Hunnam. I wouldn’t mind a chance to guard his body.
He smiles. “Sure, sometimes, although mostly we work with vulnerable women and children who are caught up in cases involving spousal abuse or hostile divorce proceedings.”
I swallow down the lump in my throat as unpleasant memories assail me. Offering him a weak smile, I take a sip of my water to hide how uncomfortable I am. This conversation just went in a direction I’m not ready to go. It's time for me to get the fuck out of here.
“Well, guys it's been a blast, but I have to go. Thanks for lunch,” I add, politely standing, watching with amusement as they all stand too. “Such gentlemen,” I praise lightly.
“All right, trouble, let me drop you home now that you’ve thoroughly charmed the pants off my men,” Blake says with a smile, placing his large hand on the small of my back.
“Bye, guys,” I call as he leads me back to the main reception area.
“Later” and “Bye” rings out as I head out to Blake's car. The warmth of the afternoon sun hits us as soon as we make it outside, and yet I feel a chill wrap around me. I like these guys, and I really like Blake despite my reservations, but knowing what they do for a living has thrown a wrench in the works. I’ll go on my date with Blake on Friday, but then I’ll stay away before I become too attached. No good can come from this relationship, not with the baggage I’m carrying or with the history I have nipping at my heels.
Chapter Eight
Blake
Despite swapping phone numbers, I haven’t seen or heard from Callie since dropping her off on Saturday. She was quiet on the drive back to her place and though I didn't really know her yet, I could sense something was bothering her. The guys had picked up on it too when she said goodbye. Her adorable sassiness was muted, and her cheerfulness felt forced.
Running the risk of pissing her off, I asked Marcus to run a check on her. She might be pissed, but something tells me that all is not well with her, and if I’ve learned anything over the years, it's to be prepared for the worst.
Now it's Friday night, one week to the day that Callie knocked me on my ass, and I’m taking her out for the date she promised me even if I have to carry her out the door myself. I knock and wait, part of me expecting her not to answer. Thankfully, I hear the lock disengage. I smile when she pulls the door open, but it freezes on my face when I take a look at what she’s wearing. Fuck me. Her full knee-length, white sundress with short, ruffled sleeves gives her a sweet and innocent vibe. Or, at least, it would have if it wasn’t for the plunging neckline that clearly shows my girl is not wearing a bra.
I’m pretty sure my brain short circuits for a moment as I stand there staring at her open-mouthed. I trail my eyes down her body to the tan leather strappy sandals that wrap around her ankles and slim calves and move them slowly, all the way up to her beautiful face that only shows the lightest hints of makeup. Her hair is sleek and smooth, hanging down her back in a sheet, and her amber eyes are fixed on mine as she nervously bites her lip.
I hear a roaring in my head as my blood rushes south of the border. A primal feeling of possessiveness floods my systems as I crowd her. Twisting her body, I push her against the door and lean down over her as she looks up at me with those gorgeous eyes of hers. I press my hard cock against her stomach, not hiding how happy I am to see her or the effect she has on my body.
I slide my hand into her hair and before she speaks, slam my mouth down on hers. Jesus Christ, she’s killing me with this cherry Chapstick.
I’m not gentle like perhaps I should be, but she should know right from the start what kind of man I am. If I see something I want, I take it, and what I want right now is this woman.
She makes a noise of protest as I pull away, making me smile at her lazily.
“Does this mean you like my dress?” she asks breathlessly.
“The only way this dress could look hotter would be if it were lying on my bedroom floor tangled up in my jeans,” I tell her honestly, knowing if we don’t leave right this second, that's going to happen sooner rather than later.
“Wow,” she whispers, making me smirk.
Callie can talk a mile a minute until I kiss her and then it's like she gets lust drunk. I’d be lying if I said it didn't make my dick hard having that kind of power over her.
“Come on, before I forget I’m trying to be a gentleman. Lock up, and let's get this show on the road.”
She doesn't argue with me, still a little dazed from that hot-as-fuck kiss. She grabs her keys and phone before snagging a denim jacket from the hook beside the door. After she locks up, I take her phone and keys from her and slide them into my pockets before helping her into her jacket.
“I can put them in my pockets—it's fine,” she protests as I take her hand and walk her to my car.
“I know, but I got you, don't worry.” I’m a helpful guy. I’m also not going to give her any means to escape if she tries to disappear on me tonight, not after the way she avoided me all week.
I take her to the newly opened steakhouse, thanking the waitress as she shows us to our table in the back near the window with a gorgeous view of the lake.
“Wine?” the waitress asks. I look at Callie, who politely declines, ordering water instead. I follow suit.
“So, Callie, tell me what brings you to our little town,” I ask the innocuous question but notice immediately when she tenses. Shit, red flag number one.
“I just
wanted a change of scenery, you know. Get away from the hustle and bustle of big city living,” she says with a strained smile. “What about you? Your grandmother told me you were in the army,” she questions, not realizing she has just hit her own tender spot.
“Erm… yeah. I signed up right out of high school. I was so ready to spread my wings and fly.” I shake my head sardonically, not regretting my decision to sign up but wishing I could go back in time and warn my younger self of the realities of war.
Some wounds never heal but my eighteen-year-old self thought I knew it all. I went away with stars in my eyes and came back with scars in my heart. But at least I came home. Not everyone was that lucky.
“What about your parents?” I ask, desperately needing to change the subject. I watch as a veil drops over her eyes. Red flag number two, Jesus, am I going to spend this whole evening dodging minefields?
“I don't talk about them. Ever. I’m sorry, it's a sore subject. How about you?” she asks before thanking the waitress returning with our drinks.
I hope Marcus comes through with his search, because at the moment, I feel like everything I say is wrong, and I’m going to blow this thing before we’ve even had a chance to explore it.
“My parents both died six years ago while I was still deployed. My dad fell asleep at the wheel and drove off the road into a ravine. They were missing for four days before anyone found them.” I swallow, the words leaving a bitter taste in my mouth.
“Jesus, Blake, I’m so sorry,” she gasps, reaching over and wrapping her small delicate hand over mine. I turn my hand and lock my fingers with hers briefly before she pulls away.
“It's fine. It was a long time ago. We weren't close, not that we ever fell out or anything. I was just their ‘oops' baby. They were so helplessly in love with each other that they often forgot they had a child to love too.” I shrug.
It's not that I was unaffected by their death, but we never had the bond most families did. I take a sip of my water, surprised that I shared that shit with her.