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Every Kiss

Page 27

by Tasha Ivey


  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.’

  Me: ‘I’m not running, Wes. You’re pushing me away.’

  No denial. No apology.

  Guess it’s time to put my big girl panties on—a few pairs of them—and go out there. This is going to be like stepping into the seventh circle of hell, but I’m not going to be a coward and hide out until he gets here.

  The woman is going to know I’m coming out of his bedroom because I slept there, so there’s not really any sense in changing clothes to look like I haven’t. Besides that, I don’t really care what she thinks right now. I just want to know what the hell is going on.

  After a few minutes—okay, more like ten—I pull the door open slowly, cringing when the hinges screech like a dying cat. Well, at least they know I’m here now.

  “Da-da!” the little girl squeals as the little pitter-patter of footsteps comes closer.

  “Daddy must’ve left a window op . . .” the woman’s voice trails off when they both turn the corner, finding me in the bedroom doorway.

  “Seems you’re both wrong,” I laugh nervously, even though this is far from funny. “Uh, I’m Callie.”

  The woman crosses her arms over her chest and scowls at me. “Well, he’s brought in another stray cat, I guess.”

  No, the bitch did not. “Excuse me?”

  “A kitty?” Macy looks all around the floor frantically. “Where Ma-ma?”

  “No kitty, baby. How about another cookie?”

  Macy claps and nods emphatically.

  She’d better be glad the kid is here for a buffer because I’d really like to be clawing her eyes out right now, being that I’m a stray cat, and all. I follow them into the living room, every nerve is alive and ready for a fight. But I have to force myself to stay centered. I won’t scare the little girl by screaming that her mom is a self-righteous whore, as much as I’d like to.

  After the woman gives her another cookie, Macy toddles back over to her pile of toys in the f
loor, not caring about anything other than her treat and a fuzzy pink elephant. Of-freaking-course.

  “So . . .” The mom eases onto the couch and crosses her legs primly. “What did you do to end up here? Are you knocked up, too?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Wes and I are—”

  “Don’t kid yourself, sweetie,” she interrupts. “You and Wes are nothing. This is his thing; there’s a new girl all the time. He makes a lot of promises and makes himself out to look like a saint, but I promise you, you won’t get anywhere with him. Me and Macy . . . we’re all he’ll ever need. But he has a serious problem, and as much as I’ve tried to help him, he keeps repeating this vicious cycle. My advice to you is to get out now, while you can. Your baby is better off without him, too.”

  My mouth hangs open, and for one of the very few times in my life, I have absolutely no idea what to say, which seems to be happening a lot since Wes came into my life. I mean, it does sound familiar. It sounds as if she knows about his issues, but at the same time, I can’t believe that I’m just one of many. I can’t believe that this is some sort of sick game he plays, even if I thought that about him in the very beginning.

  “Why don’t you call a cab and run on back to wherever you came from? When Wesley gets home tonight, I’ll let him know that you got smart.”

  The squealing tires outside is all I need to hear to let me know that I’m about to get some answers, if I have to strangle him to get them. I don’t play games, so it’s way past time to get it all laid out on the table. “Sounds like you can tell him now.”

  She blanches and jumps to her feet just as he bursts through the front door looking like a madman.

  “Sarah, what in the hell are you doing here?”

  My head whips in her direction. “Sarah? Wait . . . you’re his . . .”

  “Wife,” she answers smugly.

  Wes flicks his eyes to me. “Ex-wife. You know that, Callie.”

  “Da-da!” Macy squeals, running to greet him. “Da-da work.”

  “Yeah, Mace, I was at work. Why don’t you go build a house with your blocks, okay?”

  He ruffles her hair, and she goes back to her toys, completely oblivious to the intense animosity building in the room. “Sarah, answer my damn question. What are you doing here?”

  She looks at me before crossing her arms and glaring at him. “I wanted to see you, so I thought Macy and I would hang out until you came home. We were going to surprise you with dinner. It wasn’t until your new charity case came out of your bedroom that I even realized anyone was here.”

  I step toward her, but Wes throws an arm out to catch me, turning his attention back to her again. “How did you get inside?”

  “The door was open.”

  “Bullshit,” he spits out. “I know for a fact that I locked it. Where’s the key, Sarah?”

  She rolls her eyes impatiently. “I put it back under the flowerpot. I knew you kept a spare out there somewhere.”

  “Get Macy’s stuff packed up and get out.” He’s trying hard to keep his voice calm and even for the child’s sake. “Then I’m giving you until Saturday to get your shit out of the apartment.”

  She gasps. “I don’t have anywhere to go, and I refuse to go back to my mom’s. You can’t kick Macy out on the streets.”

  “To be honest, I don’t care where you end up. You’re just not living in that apartment anymore.”

  Sarah points at me accusingly. “Why? Because you need a place for your new whore? Kick one of your other girls out, Wes. You loved me once, just give me a chance.”

  Wes’ grip tightens on my wrist when I start to lunge at her again. Just one slap across that smug face of hers. Just one. That’s all I need. Then he’s next.

  “I’ve heard all about the shit you’ve been stirring up with the other women, too, and I’m done. I shouldn’t have ever felt sorry for you because it’s only caused me trouble. And because of what you’ve started for me here, today, I think I’ll shorten your stay even more. You have until tomorrow. I’ll have a police escort there to ‘assist’ you, and I’ll have the locksmith ready to change the locks immediately.”

  She walks up to him and tries to touch his face, but he swats her hand away. “Wesley, I know I hurt you, but I know you love me. What we had doesn’t go away. I still feel it.”

  “No,” he seethes. “I didn’t have any clue what love even was until this woman right here came into my life.” He pauses to look at me. “The only thing I feel for you is pity. I don’t know how you live with yourself, knowing how many people you’ve hurt and lied to. And now you have that little girl, who doesn’t stand a chance unless you grow the hell up and learn to be responsible for your actions. I’m not supporting you anymore. Get the hell out, and do not show your face here again or I will press charges for trespassing.”

  She lets out an irritated growl and crosses the room to toss the toys into her bag. “Come on, Macy,” she snaps, flinging the child onto her hip. On her way past me, she pauses. “Just remember everything I said.”

  “Get the hell out of my house, Sarah. Now.”

  She rolls her eyes at him again and walks out the front door. The entire time, he keeps an almost painful grip on my wrist, and I don’t know if it’s to keep me from walking out the door, too, or if it’s to keep me from chasing her down to slap the shit out of her.

  “Callie.” He finally mutters when Sarah’s car starts to pull away. “I can explain everything.”

  I jerk my hand free, rubbing at the red fingerprints. “Are you serious? There’s so many things wrong with what’s happened today, that I don’t think you could ever explain it enough to make me understand.”

  “You’re right. Let me just show you.”

  I glare at him. “You’re kidding right? After all the crazy shit I’ve heard, I promise you, I don’t even want to know what kind of mess you have yourself in.”

  “Callie, please,” he soothes, rubbing a hand down my arm. “Just give me an hour. And if you still want nothing to do with me after that, I’ll take you home, and you’ll never hear from me again. I haven’t told you the whole story, Callie, but I’ve never lied to you. I meant everything I said when I told you that I love you and that I’ll do anything to make this work with us. You told me you wouldn’t run, but I’ll understand if you want to after I explain. Just get all the facts first. Give me that, please.”

  I nod.

  Let’s see. He has a kid that he just kicked out on the streets. He’s maintained contact with the ex-wife that he told me he despises. He apparently keeps a harem of women shacked up in some apartments he has. And could quite possibly have several more children, considering that Sarah automatically assumed I’m pregnant.

  I have a feeling there isn’t any explanation to fix this. No, Wesley Baxter is clearly a douchebag, and I fell for it.

  I DON’T KNOW where he could possibly be taking me to explain all of this away. I mean, is he seriously going to take me to these apartments and try to sell me on them like some kind of polygamist real estate agent? I have no desire to be a part of any kind of sister wife thing. No thank you.

  The thing that bothers me the most is that I never would’ve seen this coming. Not in a million years. After everything we’ve been through, with his mother, with his reservations about relationships, why would I suspect something like this? Eve just thinks his main problem has to do with his heart being broken by Sarah and his mother abandoning him. No, he’s absolutely freaking insane. That’s his problem.

  He pulls into the parking lot of a little office building, shifts into park, and looks over at me. “I want you to come inside with me. It all starts right here. All I ask is that, if you have anything to say to me about this, you save it for when we get back in the jeep, okay?”

  “Fine.”

  He sighs loudly and gets out, waiting for me to do the same before walking inside. I follow him into an elevator, and we take a short ride up to the third floor. When the doors slide ope
n, I notice the sign over the reception desk. A New Beginning. If he’s bringing me to counseling or something, he’s completely lost it.

  “Well, Mr. Baxter, we weren’t expecting you today. Are you here to see Casey?”

  Wes forces a smile and shakes the young woman’s hand. “Good to see you, Amanda. I didn’t tell her I was coming in today. Is she busy?”

  She looks down at the appointment book and taps an entry. “Her next appointment isn’t for an hour. Go ahead and head down that way, and I’ll buzz her office and let her know you’re coming.”

  “Thanks. Say hello to Andy for me.”

  She smiles sweetly at him. “I sure will. And honey,” she pauses to pat my arm, “don’t fret. You’re in good hands.”

  I plaster on a smile, knowing I must look all kinds of crazy. “Uh, thanks.”

  Wes leads the way through a series of corridors, and I know we’ve finally reached our destination when a woman steps out of an office at the end of the hallway with a huge grin. “Well, hello there, handsome. To what to I owe the pleasure of seeing you today?”

  “I, uh, brought someone to see you. This is Callie.”

  “Oh, sorry . . . I didn’t realize. Come on in.” She steps back inside her small office and waves in the direction of the two folding chairs across from her. “Have a seat.”

  While she moves around her desk to her own seat, I notice the name stitched on her white lab coat—Dr. Casey Felkins. “Thanks, Dr. Felkins.”

  “Oh, goodness, girl. Call me Casey.” She giggles. “So what can I help you with today? Have you already had a test to confirm?”

  I flash a bewildered look at Wes, and he starts shaking his head at her. “Uh, she’s not pregnant, Casey. She’s a friend of mine. Well, my girlfriend, actually.”

  “Oh, umm, I apologize for assuming.” She smoothes a hand over her wild red curls. “So that must mean you’re here to look at your birth control options?”

  I scan the row of pamphlets on the shelf beside me, all about alternatives to abortion, local adoption clinics, single parenting classes. I just don’t get why he brought me here. “I’m, uh, already on the pill.”

 

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