Drop Beat (The Heartbeat Series Book 2)

by Ryleigh Sloan

  Is Chelsea right? Does Keller miss me?

  The phone rings and I answer it. “Pawfectly Primped, how can we help you?”

  A deep chuckle comes through the line, and my freaking stomach thinks it’s trying out for the Olympic gymnast team. “Can you say that again, please? I don’t think I got it the first time.”

  Sweet baby saints, what that deep voice of his does to me. If I didn’t know who it was by his rumbling laugh, I sure can’t mistake who’s on the other side of the line when I hear Keller’s accent.

  “Ha-ha, very funny. Do you have a grooming situation you need to take care of?”

  I swear I can almost see him cock a brow at me when I sass him. “I think you’d be intimately aware that that’s not the case.”

  I feel the clench at his tone and the reminder of how perfectly groomed he really is and lick my lips at the thought of his perfect cock. Oh boy, this is not the place to be getting all turned on.

  “I got the flowers. They’re beautiful. Thank you.”

  “Yeah? I wasn’t sure how to get them to you since I didn’t have an address or a number, but then I thought of your mom’s shop and figured if you weren’t there, she’d get them to you. I hope that’s okay?” Keller rambles, and he sounds shy and, gun to my head, I couldn’t tell you which is more of a turn-on: Keller confidently commanding or Keller shy.

  “That’s absolutely fine.”

  “So have you changed your mind about orange yet?”

  “Meh, I’m still on the fence,” I tease.

  “Is that so? Maybe you should give me your number so I can inundate you with everything orange?”

  Alright, if my stomach was going all out before, it just did a triple vault and nailed the landing. Keller freaking Cannon wants my number.

  “Hmmm, you sure you wanna do that, big boy? You never know when I’ll call you in the middle of the night with my heavy breathing.”

  “Maddie, if you call me in the middle of the night with heavy breathing, it better be because you’ve got your fingers deep in that sweet little pussy of yours and you’re thinking of me.”

  Holleeeyyy shitballs! I legit feel my pussy start to quiver at the thought, but there’s no damn way I’m letting Keller know that. I snort. “You’re mighty sure of yourself. I’m not a phone sex kinda girl.”

  “Not that kind of girl, huh? Looks like I have my work cut out with you. First orange and now this depressing little nugget of information. I definitely need your number now.”

  The bell chimes again and Mr. Rissick walks in. Shit, I was so distracted by the flowers that I forgot to call Mom and have her come over. “Shoot, I’ve got to go. A customer just arrived.”

  “How about I give you my number and you send me a pic of the flowers.”

  I narrow my eyes even though he can’t see me. “You just want the pic so you can get my number.”

  His chuckle has a way better effect on me than Mr. Rissick’s scowl, and I jot down his number before reaching for the demon dog.

  No matter how many times I get bitten today, it’s so going to be worth it.

  Thirteen – Well, Shit!

  Keller

  “Icky. Icky.”

  I walk back into my living room to what can only be described as a stripper orgy gone wrong. Except instead of naked women, my two-year-old nephew, Gavin, is sitting in a gloopy, glittery mess and is rubbing his sticky hands all over my gray shaggy carpet. The red glitter winks at me from where I’m standing in the doorway, mocking me for leaving a toddler unattended with what I realize is a toy manufacturer’s version of an atomic bomb. The glitter is everywhere, and the more my eyes take in, the more it looks like a crime scene. Gavin is getting hysterical as the long fibers of the carpet stick to his hands. I place the juice box on the table and cross the room to him.

  “Isaac, didn’t I ask you to watch him for two minutes?”

  Isaac, Gavin’s twelve-year-old brother, looks up from his tablet. “I was watching him. Oh shoot, when did that happen?”

  When you were nose-deep in your Fortnite game. The thought doesn’t leave my mouth because it’s not the kid’s responsibility to watch his brother, it’s mine.

  “Hey, buddy, looks like you got yourself into quite the mess, huh? Let’s get you cleaned up. Isaac, do me a solid and throw Bacon into the washing machine.” Bacon is Gavin’s stuffed cow. Yeah, the name would be more suited to a stuffed pig, but you try argue with a toddler. It’s seen so many washes in its day that he’s a faded beige instead of the bright pink it used to be. I pray to the god of peaceful children that we can get most of the glittery goo from the exploded glitter ball off him because if we can’t, there’s gonna be hell to pay.

  “Icky, icky.” Gavin’s arms go around my neck, and he starts wiping his hands on the back of my shirt. I let him—it’s better if he wipes them on me than himself. Teresa, my sister-in-law, is already going to have my brother Jayden’s and my balls for this. I’m watching my nephews while my brother plays golf. He and Teresa usually take turns having “me time” for a couple of hours every alternate weekend, but Jayden was offered a spot in a charity round, so he asked me to cover for him. It isn’t the first time I’ve watched my nephews, but it is the first time anything like this has happened, and Gavin’s brand-new Ferrari T-shirt, which cost a small fortune, is now ruined. There’s no way we’ll get this glue off it—there’s way more on here than his cow.

  “Yeah, buddy, it’s sticky. It’ll be okay, we’ll get it all off you.” I walk into my bathroom, set Gavin on the ledge of the bath, and proceed to fill the tub with warm water.

  “Uncle Keller, should I set it to hot or cold wash?” Isaac’s voice calls from the laundry room.

  “Make it hot.” We’re gonna need all the help we can get here.

  I reach for the baby wash I keep for when the kids come and sleep over. Teresa gave me strict instructions about not using my normal wash on Gavin’s skin because he’s still too young. I test the water and undress Gavin, careful not to get more of the messy gunk on him, and set him in amongst the bubbles. He splashes around in the tub, and I get to work washing off as much of the glitter as I can. I realize I made a huge error in judgment when the glitter collects on the top of the bubbles only to self-destruct whenever they come into contact with Gavin’s skin.

  Motherfucker! Someone should sue whoever thought glitter was a good idea.

  I’m squeezing more baby wash onto the sponge when Gavin’s little voice instills so much damn dread in me you’d swear I’d just been held at gunpoint. “Gavin make poo.”

  Fucking hell!

  I take a second to school my face because I don’t want the kid to feel bad about his accident, but fuck my life if the last thing I need right now is to fish a turd out of my tub.

  “Anyone home?”

  I’ve never been more relieved to hear my sister’s voice than I am at that moment.

  “Whoa, what the hell…I mean heck happened in here? Hey, Isaac.” Her voice rings clear from the living room.

  “Hey, Aunt Syd. Gavin had a little accident.”

  “Yeah, this looks like a lot more than a little one. I see you’ve been trying to help.”

  “Yeah, but I think it’s making it worse. It’s all smashing into the bottom.”

  Jesus!

  “I see that. Why don’t you go wash your hands and get changed, and we’ll leave this to the professionals, huh?”

  “Syd, get in here,” I call.

  I hear my sister making her way to the bathroom. When she peeks her head in, she’s fighting back a grin. “Hey, Gavin. You having a nice bath?”

  “Help me with him, will you? He, uh, had an accident.”

  She walks toward us. “Yeah, I saw. What happened, buddy?” She smiles at our nephew.

  “Not that accident. He had another one.” Just then the turd floats to the top of the warm water.

  “Look, poo,” Gavin squeals in delight.

  Great, the kid almost has a meltdown when his han
ds are sticky, but crapping in the bath is one of his proudest moments.

  Sydney takes a step back. “Kel, you know I…”

  I wrap Gavin in a towel, and Sydney’s blue eyes dart from the log in the tub to Gavin and she starts backing out of the bathroom, trying her best not to heave. “Syd, just take him so I can get this sorted.” My words make her throw a hand over her mouth as water streams from her eyes.

  “I sowwy, Aunt Shyd. Don’t cry.”

  “Goddamn it, you’re making the kid feel bad here.”

  “Goddamn it, goddamn it,” Gavin repeats proudly.

  I close my eyes. “See what you made me do.”

  Sydney points at me with her free hand. “I didn’t make you do shit. This is all on you.”

  “Shit, shit.”

  Just fucking great!

  “Teresa’s going to kill us,” I groan.

  “She’s gonna kill you. By the time she gets here, I’ll be long gone.”

  Sydney gets her gag reflex under control long enough to take Gavin out of the bathroom. I hear her turning on the shower in my bathroom, and Gavin squeals with delight as the water hits his little body.

  Why didn’t I think of that in the first place?

  I reach for the rubber gloves and detergent Evelyn, my maid, keeps under the sink, then grab the ceramic cup out of the holder, dumping my toothbrush and toothpaste onto the vanity, and use it to scoop out Gavin’s accident. I flush the crap and dump the cup in the flip bin. There’s no fucking way I’m ever using that again.

  I wash and rinse the bath three times, and there’s still glitter everywhere. At this point, I think it would be better to set fire to the whole damn bathroom.

  I run myself through a shower, trying not to think about what I did to Maddie in the one in my bathroom—now’s not the time. I’ll save that for later.

  When I get into the kitchen after throwing on some sweats and a tee, I find Sydney leaning against the island, blowing on a steaming cup of tea. Her dark hair is now pulled into a messy bun on top of her head.

  “Where are the kids?”

  “They’re in the living room watching Sonic. I rolled up the rug and dragged it into the laundry until the cleaners arrive. I think it’s a goner though.”

  “You didn’t have to do that, I would’ve done it.”

  “I know.” She shrugs. “Bacon had to go through the wash again though.”

  I grimace. “I figured.”

  “No, it wasn’t the glitter. Surprisingly that came out. I found these.”

  She bends down and opens the bottom kitchen drawer where I keep the takeout menus and fishes out the panties Maddie left, dangling them from her thumb and forefinger.

  Fuck!

  “Really, Kel,” she whisper-hisses. “Do you throw your little randoms out so fast that they don’t have time to take their underwear?”

  I snatch the wet panties, my jaw ticking as I shove them into my sweats’ pocket. “Maddie isn’t a random.”

  “Oh, so you know this one’s name?”

  “Fuck, Syd. What do you take me for? I know all their names. I’m not a fucking dick.”

  She stares at me pointedly over the rim of her cup. “How many of your ‘dates’ do you have repeats with?” She air quotes “dates” with her free hand.

  I head to the fridge and grab a bottle of water. I twist off the cap and down the whole bottle, my back to my sister the whole time. “We’re not having this discussion.”

  I know Sydney doesn’t approve of my lifestyle. Like I said, I’m not a dick, but I do make it a point to not bring the same girl home twice. I can’t have girls having expectations of more than just fucking. I can’t offer more than that right now.

  Or ever.

  But it’s different with Maddie. She lives on a different continent. It’s uncomplicated.

  “There’s a bra too, you know. I just don’t think it’s a good idea to have women’s underwear lying around when the boys are over.”

  “They weren’t lying around. They were being washed. I forgot to give them back to Maddie, that’s all. I’ll return them when I see her again.” Which isn’t true, but it’s none of Sydney’s fucking business that I’m keeping a souvenir from my time with Maddie. Even if it’s a little fucked-up.

  Her eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and she places her cup on the counter, crossing her arms over her chest. “Oh, so you are seeing this one again? She must be something. Better at giving head than all the others?”

  “The fuck, Syd?” This is so fucking out of line.

  “Why is this getting to you so much. You like her?”

  Jesus, I need to lock this down. “I’m not talking to you about my sex life, Syd.”

  She raises her hands. “Fine, I’ve got a date I have to get ready for anyway.”

  “He better treat you right.”

  “If he doesn’t, I’ll kick his ass.”

  My phone vibrates on the kitchen counter next to Sydney, and I walk over and pick it up. Seeing the name on the text always has guilt twist in the pit of my stomach. I scroll down to read the preview.

  JEANA CAVELL: I know you were planning on coming through tomorrow but Bronson hasn’t improved any since we spoke yesterday. I’ll let you know if there are any improvements.

  Fuck! I scrub a hand over my head.

  “If,” not when.

  Sydney turns to me, worry creasing her forehead. “What is it?”

  “Nothing. It’s nothing.”

  “Kel…”

  “Not now, Syd, not with the kids.”

  She reaches out and squeezes my arm. “Call me if you need to talk.”

  Yeah, that’s not going to happen. Gavin walks into the kitchen rubbing his eyes. “Uncle Kwel, where Bacon?”

  I crouch down. “He’s still in the wash, buddy.”

  “But I neeed him,” he whines, and I can tell he’s long overdue for a nap.

  “Well, this is my cue.” Syd grins mischievously. She heads to the dining room table and grabs her purse. “Isaac, I’m leaving.”

  Isaac comes out of the living room. “Bye, Aunt Syd.”

  She pulls him in for a hug. “Be good for Uncle Kel.”

  “I will.” He heads back to the living room, and Sydney bends down, her arms stretched wide. “Gavin, come give me cuddles.”

  Gavin scowls at Sydney, and she pinches her lips together to hide her smile. “Looks like you’re going to have a fun afternoon.”

  She walks over and kisses Gavin on his mop of curly brown hair. “Good luck,” she offers.

  I’m going to fucking need it.

  With every step my sister takes to the door, I see them grow lighter. She loves kids, but she doesn’t do drama and definitely doesn’t have the patience for meltdowns.

  Gavin starts sniveling. “I want Bacon!”

  I bend and pick him up. “He’s nearly clean, buddy. Then we need to put him in the dryer. How about we go watch him have a spin in the washing machine?”

  Gavin grumbles something unintelligible, but he doesn’t protest when I carry him into the laundry.

  What a fucking day! The next forty-five minutes are pure torture. I try everything to distract Gavin, but he whines for every little thing until Bacon is dry, and then he passes out on the couch.

  My reprieve is short-lived because Gavin is only asleep for twenty minutes before waking up in a worse mood than ever.

  By the time Teresa arrives, even Isaac, who can zone out through anything, is getting pissy at Gavin.

  Teresa doesn’t give me shit for Gavin’s ruined T-shirt. I guess she can see what kind of an afternoon we all had and is cutting me some slack. She isn’t even down the driveway yet and I’ve grabbed a glass from the cupboard and am pouring three fingers of whiskey. I drain it in one shot and refill my glass. One good thing has come from the day: I was so distracted by Gavin’s mood that I didn’t have time to think about the text from Bronson’s mom. I’m not about to start now. Tomorrow is soon enough to start torturing myself agai
n.

  Draining the second glass, I feel the burn and the buzz from the alcohol.

  I reach for my phone before I get drunk off my ass and open it to the Victoria’s Secret website. Using the sizes from the underwear Maddie left here, I order her a bunch of lingerie, a couple in red and all the rest in different shades of orange.

  I enter the address and hit the Order button. Then I flip to my contacts and bring up Maddie’s number to shoot her off a text. Since I got her number a couple of days ago, I’ve talked myself out of texting her, but fuck it, I need this.

  ME: I sent you something to your mom’s salon. It’s NSFW so open in private. PS, I’m already getting hard thinking of you wearing them. Think of me when you do. Looking forward to the heavy breathing.

  I hit Send and head for the shower. I wasn’t lying when I told her I was hard.

  Fuck, I’ve got it bad!

  Fourteen – Fixer-Upper

  Maddie

  I’ve been at the garage since the crack of dawn because I couldn’t sleep. Papaw asked me to come and help him replace the starter in his 1959 Chevy. He’s fully recovered from the accident he had a little over a year ago, but a fall like that takes its toll, and at eighty, he’s not a young man anymore. Of course, I jumped at the chance, and I’m under his truck with the first two bolts out of the bellhousing. Underneath the chassis of a car is the best place to be when I need to completely zone out and do some thinking. You’d think baking would be the perfect opportunity for that, but as much as I love it, being all over the place is not conducive to concentration which is something I need for baking.

  When Mom brought the gift over from the shop yesterday, I was relieved. To be honest, I was nervous I’d scared Keller off with my heavy-breathing comment when I didn’t hear from him for a few days, but since the guy bought me lingerie, I think it’s a safe bet that isn’t the case. I can’t say I was surprised to find lingerie in the box. I mean, I suspected Keller was sending me something sexy—I doubt he’d get hard at the thought of me wearing socks, unless he had some sort of foot fetish, in which case, ewww, his hotness factor would’ve dipped from a solid 10 to a 9.5. But what did surprise me was how thoughtful he was. The box contained half a dozen sets of lingerie. Four in different shades of orange—much like the flowers—and two sets of red. One a cherry red and the other a burgundy. I tried them all on, and they fit perfectly. Leave it to Keller to be fun, sweet, freaking gorgeous, and smart enough to use the underwear he snatched to get the perfect sizes.