CALLIE (The Naughty Ones Book 1)

by Kristina Weaver

  “Not before we set the terms,” she says, removing her hand from my grip and leaning closer, her breath wafting over my neck and ear.

  The soft caress only serves to heat me more, and I groan low, a little distracted and so bemused I can hardly string a decent thought together.

  “Terms?”

  “Terms,” she says, clearing her throat and breathing deeply. “If you want more, you have to give me tonight. I want control, for just one night.”

  I freeze and come crashing back to earth with a bump that leaves me stunned before the fog clears and the unrelenting need dulls to a throbbing ache.

  I can’t…not ever and especially not with her in this delicate condition. If she touches me, I will not be able to control myself, and I know it. Sophie is well aware of my proclivities and accepting of them, even though I have to admit that I have never lost control. Not even with her.

  “No Shaw.”

  “Fine.”

  I breathe easy at the acceptance and collapse back in the chair, feeling the tension drain away and obliterate the fear. Good, good, she understands that the only way for us to be together is if I have full control.

  “Thank you for accepting—”

  “Oh, I’m not accepting anything Cameron Stone. Like I said. Terms. If you can’t give up your precious control for one night, then I guess we’ll just have to wait until you can. That’s okay. We can take care of ourselves until you feel secure enough to let me in. I guess it’s for the best anyway. We still have the treasure hunt to get through, and I’m excited. I’m good at riddles and such.”

  I gape and feel my eyes widen at the words.

  “You, you cannot expect to leave me this way?”

  “No? Why? Because you say it? I’ve spent months doing everything your way, Cameron. You want me live in another country and uproot my whole life because it will make Marge and Vic happy, all the while believing that I’m a liar and a fraud. You want me to marry you and spend my days waffling around with no purpose. You want me to be whatever it is you need, but I’m not even allowed to touch you. Doesn’t seem fair.”

  “Shaw.”

  “I’ve agreed to marry you. I’m giving you my whole life, and you won’t even try. I want more than this, Cameron. I want someone who loves me, and I want the chance to love you.”

  I have nothing to say to that because I’m honestly speechless. She wants to love me? Does that mean she can? Does that mean I even stand half a chance at something more than the empty existence I’d had planned for the two of us?

  Just when I’ve collected myself enough to venture forth and ask her, Millie stands and claps excitedly, making me groan.

  “Attention party guests! The treasure hunt will begin shortly. Margery is going to go around and give each pair a card. That card holds the first riddle that will lead you to the next. If you find the next clue, you will advance to the next stage whereupon you will be given another card and so on and so forth. The teams are as follows…”

  Bloody hell!

  I get a grinning Griff while I watch Shaw smile and skip toward Molly and a scowling Kent.

  I spend the next twenty minutes trying to follow Shaw, as Griffin growls and starts railing about the bloody card clue and losing. I finally give up on seeing Shaw and resign myself to half the night spent playing a fucking game before I can snatch her away and talk to her.

  I need answers and a few reassurances before…can I actually do this? Can I cede some of my control and trust Shaw to be what I need? I bloody well hope so because at this point I need to.

  “She’s a lovely lass and any man would be lucky to have her. You’re damned fortunate she sees more in you than she ever did in Rob. Don’t fuck it up, Cam.”

  I pause my search of Aunt Millie’s desk and turn to Griff, my expression a blank mask while I seethe and rage inside.

  “Don’t worry, cuz. I have no intention of ever letting that secret slip. They’re yours, I just hope you know how to cherish the gift you’ve been given.” He growls, staring me down. “Rob was a wanker. I loved him, but he was a true idiot. God rest his soul. I almost went to the States myself when he told me about her and the baby.”

  “He knew?”

  “Aye. She left him a few very heated voicemails at one stage. Don’t look that way, Cam. The lad was terrified.”

  “Too fucking terrified to ensure that his unborn child and its mother didn’t starve on the bloody streets! I found her in a shelter, Griff, half-starved from morning sickness and lack of food.”

  I’m so angry with them both right now that I can’t see through the red clouding my vision. And then I moan because I’ve fucked up just as badly.

  “Christ, I have to make this up to her—”

  I’m already walking out, intending to find her and grovel like a dog when a scream of terror rends the air, making my hackles rise. I’m running, with Griff hot on my heels before the scream can die down.

  Everything crumbles around me when I reach the foyer, and I feel myself lose the last vestige of humanity in me.

  “No.”

  I feel hands grasping me, wrestling me down to the marble floor. The shout of male voices. Feminine screams and cries. My own tortured voice bellowing like an enraged animal.

  “You cannot move her, Cameron! Dougal, where the fuck is the ambulance?”

  “They’re on the way! Knock him out if you have to, but bloody well do something before he goes crazy! Kent, move her slowly. Is she…?”

  “Breathing. She’s losing a lot of blood from a head injury and, oh Jesus…you’d better do something about Cameron before he sees—”

  Too late. I head butt Griffin and lunge Shaw’s way, almost crumbling when I see the skirt of her pink dress dotted with blood. Mum’s sobbing and keening, as Millie grasps hold of her to keep her from falling.

  I crawl closer and cup her cheek gently, praying and begging at the same time, pleading for another chance, just one more to right the wrongs I’ve caused her.

  She’s innocent of all wrong, and I should have bloody known it! This, this could have all been avoided if I’d just pushed past the bitterness caused by the betrayal of another woman. If I had, I would have seen right from the start that my Ducky is way too honest and guileless to have tried to deceive us.

  And now it could be too late.

  “Wake up, Ducky. Open those amazing purple eyes and tell me you’re alright,” I whisper. “I’ll let you tie me to the bloody bed if you’d just wake up. Please.”

  Her eyes don’t even flicker.

  “Move Cam! Come on old boy, the paramedics need to get to her,” Kent whispers, closing his own eyes in what I can only guess is a prayer.

  They end up having to wrestle me away, this time because a crying Molly is almost hysterical as she recounts the accident.

  “Someone pushed her.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Cam

  “She’s beautiful, Cameron. Won’t you just—?”

  “I said no, Mum. I’ll hold her when Ducky wakes and not before. Mums and dads do that together.”

  “But the doctors said—”

  “I don’t give a good fuck what those idiots said! She’ll wake up. She has to,” I say, taking her hand back in mine.

  The fall had caused Shaw to bleed and the baby to go into distress. We’d airlifted her to the nearest hospital and waited for the doctors to finally deliver a screaming, none too impressed, little girl who according to reports looked just like me but had a little bow mouth like her mum.

  And then they’d told us that my girl had yet to wake and that she is in a coma. It’s been five days of sitting at her bedside and holding her hand and still nothing. No movement, sound, or even an eye twitch to tell us that she will eventually wake.

  The whole family and the extended clan are all camped out in the waiting area, using influence and money to ensure use of bathrooms and the occasional bed. No one’s left yet, and I’m bloody grateful because I don’t think I could stand it i
f they gave up yet. Not yet.

  “Cameron.”

  “Mum, I said—”

  “Well just shut up! I think that if we put a little love beside her…it might spur her to wake,” Mum says, casting another hopeless glance at my woman.

  “Don’t do that; don’t look at her like that. Like you’re giving up.”

  “I’m not, Cameron. I’m just trying not to go raving mad right now. You weren’t there; you didn’t see…God have mercy, the fear on her face, the desperation as she tried to right herself.”

  I close my eyes and steel myself against the tears, as she plonks down beside me and sniffles into my shoulder.

  “What if—?”

  “Don’t say it. Please,” I say, my hand tightening around hers in a fierce grip that wills her to come back. “She can’t…I have so much to say to her. So many apologies to make.”

  “And make them you will, Cameron lad. Now stop giving your poor mum grief and bloody move over. I have a little girl who’d like to meet her mum, and I won’t let it rest another day.”

  I find myself grinning when Dad saunters in, the baby squirming in the crook of his arm as he stalks to the bed and bends to lay a gentle kiss on Shaw’s brow, directly over the yellowing bruise above her left eye.

  “Come on and wake, Ducky, your daughter is dying to meet you, my darling.”

  It’s a bittersweet moment when he unwraps the swaddled infant and places her on Shaw’s chest, his hand so gentle as he keeps the squirming bundle from wiggling off.

  “Feel that, lovey? That’s your mum right there.”

  The baby stops moving almost as if she understands and snuggles deeper into Shaw’s bust, her hands opening flat against the hospital gown.

  “Oh, there you are. Of course, she smells right, love.”

  When the baby starts rooting around and snuffling, he chuckles and gives me a pointed look.

  “I think your daughter needs to feed, Cameron. Come along Margie, I need your help getting the others to go eat and take showers. The bloody lot of them look and smell like the undead.”

  And just like that he steps away, forcing me to leap up and take the baby. I’m trembling as her weight settles into my chest and feel my eyes mist when she looks up at me blearily and blinks, her face taking on an expression that I swear is recognition when I breathe out a reverent hello.

  “You recognize my voice, love?” I whisper, feeling myself settle for the first time in five days.

  This, this tiny little scrap of perfection is mine. My daughter. My everlasting bond with the still woman lying asleep in the bed beside us. And if I have my way, she will be the first of many.

  Oh, yes.

  “Do you hear me, Ducky? This little love is only the first of the children we will have. So stop lazing about and open those beautiful eyes. Our daughter needs you. And so do I.”

  No answer springs forth, and I sigh and do what Dad ordered. He’s right, lovey needs to feed, and I need to pull my bloody head out of my arse and make sure my woman wakes up to meet our child.

  Being careful not to disturb anything I pull her gown to the side, exposing her breast and lay lovey over her chest, doing my best to guide her though it seems the tyke knows exactly what she’s doing.

  She latches on as if she knows exactly what to do, and I cradle her with awe as she suckles at Shaw’s breast, her little eyes rolling back in bliss.

  “That’s it lovey, wake Mum up. Let her know that we need her back.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Shaw

  I feel heavy and yet light at the same time. My brain is wrapped in cotton and feels muggy, like an overcast day just before a storm.

  I’m confused, really confused, when I hear a rhythmic beeping somewhere to the side and feel a warm stroking over my face. There’s something there, something just on the periphery of my mind, but as soon as I try to focus and grasp it, I feel it float away and dissipate as if a puff of smoke.

  “Come on, Ducky. That’s it baby, open your eyes.” I hear.

  The caresses are feather light and gentle, so at odds with that urgent voice and the slight tremble I feel from the hands touching me. I know that voice. At least I think I do, but I can’t…

  “She’s coming around.”

  “That’s good Mr. Stone. The scans showed that the swelling has subsided, and we do not anticipate any complications, but like I warned you…”

  I drift a little before a soft weight settles over my chest, and I smile, not quite knowing why. I feel, weird, out of sorts and just…detached when I finally manage to open my sticky eyes.

  I see a man standing over me, his face so harshly beautiful and intense that I catch my breath at the smile that curves his thin lips.

  “Hi, gorgeous. About time you woke up.”

  “Why?”

  His smile slips a little when I look down and frown. There’s a baby on my chest.

  “Ducky.”

  “Why are you calling me Ducky? My name’s Shaw. Shaw Mallory. Where am I? Was I in an accident? I told Linda we should have taken a freaking cab,” I mutter, looking back down at the kid snuffling at my boob, her little bow-shaped mouth screwing up when she gets nothing but hospital gown and air.

  “Er, is this your baby? How did I get here? Could you call Alec?”

  My mind is abuzz, skipping from one thing to the next, and I feel so panicked. I feel my lungs squeeze tight, strangling my choppy breaths in my chest.

  “Baby, ssh, no don’t panic, Ducky. Just take a deep breath and I’ll explain everything. Jesus. Just…just, can you hold the baby for a minute? I need to…”

  Her settles the squiggly bundle into my arms and paces to the door before turning and coming back, his mouth hitting mine in a gentle kiss before pulling back and meeting my gaze.

  “Everything will be just fine, baby. I swear. Just hold lovey for a minute while I go…I’ll be back in a tick.”

  And then he’s gone, leaving me with the baby and a whole lot of awkward terror. I don’t move, sitting frozen the whole time while that pink little cherub snuggles deeper into my chest and closes her eyes, her face the picture of innocent bliss.

  Something, I feel something hammering at the edges of my mind, and the terror from moments before returns so forcefully I feel myself tremble as a muted cry and tears spill free.

  There’s something I need to do, say…something important that I have to tell…whom? I can’t remember, and each time I try to remember, I feel the answer floating farther away, slipping from my grasp. I feel so anxious and urgent that it’s all I can do to keep the baby clutched tightly in my arms, her slight weight and baby smell managing to calm and settle me somehow.

  “Hello, little girl. Aren’t you a cutie pie. What’s your name, huh? Won’t tell me?” I ask, stroking a finger over her baby soft cheek. “How about I call you…Angel. Yeah, you look like you could be an angel. Maybe an Angelica? Or an Angelique?”

  I spend long minutes talking to her and tracing her features, and the longer I do, the more I feel the urgency settle and fade away. I may not know how I ended up in a hospital bed, or why a devastatingly handsome stranger was standing over me and handing me his child, but right now I don’t care.

  I feel better than I have since my mind came back to life, and for some strange reason, I feel a kinship with the snuffling snoring baby, drooling all over my breast.

  Long minutes pass before I become aware of a tingling sensation and look up to see him in the doorway, his blue eyes sparking with something I can’t define.

  Jesus, this guy really is hot. Is he married? Must be since this is his kid, no denying. Her little nose promises to be just as straight and regal as his own, and I see the same jaw and eye shape.

  Too bad, because I could really go for losing my innocence to a guy this perfect. Unfortunately, I’m probably destined to go back to my dorm and the hours of studying—

  “Where’s Linda? Is she okay? God, we really shouldn’t have been driving after she drank so muc
h, but she wouldn’t listen. Did you call Al…no wait, he’ll just worry. This baby is really cute. Why are you in my room?”

  My mind is whirling a mile a minute, and I feel that same urgency hit me again. When he steps in and reaches for Angel, I snarl and turn away, cradling the little head tighter to my chest.

  God, why are my boobs so sore?

  “Er, could you call a nurse please?”

  Something warm and fluid is running down my chest, and I cringe, almost freaking at the thought of blood—

  “Shaw, please calm down and pass me the baby.”

  Oh! I don’t want to but…it’s his child. I have no right.

  “I, can I hold her just a little longer? She’s so warm, and I, I feel less afraid with her here. Please!” I beg, leaning in to smell her dark hair before placing a soft kiss there.

  “Shaw, I—”

  “No, you’re right. You should take her. I think my stitches must have ripped, and I don’t want her getting bloody.” I sigh, placing Angel in his arms. “Would you call the nurse?”

  I look down at my chest and frown in confusion when I see a wet stain across my left breast, no red in sight.

  “What the heck?”

  Not caring about modesty, I pull the gown away a little and look down, choking on a gasp at what I see. A milky fluid is pouring from…my nipple?

  “Uh, I think something’s wrong. I…uh…I need a doctor. I…what the hell?”

  When I look up, it’s to see him closing his eyes and breathing deeply before reopening them to focus on me.

  “You’re breasts are leaking milk, Shaw. Milk that is meant to feed your daughter. Our daughter.”

  I pass out because it’s all too much to take in without freaking the hell out. I’m twenty years old! How the heck can I have a kid? And that man? He’s mine?

  Chapter Twenty One

  Cam

  “I had to tell her! She was hyperventilating.”

  I’m yelling at the doctor, fully aware that the poor man is probably right and not to blame for the terror I am currently feeling, but I need to vent so desperately that it’s all I can do not to start howling my outrage at the world.