Wicked Flower

by Carlene Love Flores

  Dani left her money on the counter and then paid for her snacks and distractions. Paid for them dearly. The baby needed the milk yet she was lactose intolerant. Her mind needed a clean break from men, yet she couldn’t wait to sit down in her car and stare into those wicked, absorbing eyes. She was also Stefan Calderon intolerant, that much was for damn sure. Maybe when she asked for a calcium supplement at her OB check-up, she’d see if there was anything they could give her to combat her Superman problem.

  Dodging raindrops that had picked up in size and intensity during her shopping excursion, she quickly climbed into the Buick, turned on the engine and let the wipers clear her windshield. Turning sideways in her seat and tucking her legs as best she could, she pulled the interview out of the bag and found Stefan’s pages. It was too dark to read easily but she squinted and found a spot illuminated just enough by one of the parking lot lights. She should at least call Daisy but the drive over would be total crap right now. It would have to wait until morning. She hunkered down in her front seat.

  She read a few lines then glanced at the close-up of his black-rimmed, chocolate eyes.

  Then a few more and the zoomed in shot of his white bass, a Fodera, which she mistook for the word Fedora at first, strung at hip level and his fingers falling naturally against the wiry strings.

  Headlights nearly blinded her through the front window and she lost her place.

  If she didn’t know any better, she’d swear a white Mercedes was pulling forward. The Tennessee plates confirmed that. It stopped beside her.

  Her muscles tightened and it took all she had not to start sobbing.

  “You won, I said you won,” she whimpered, leaving the magazine on the seat.

  ****

  What was this one’s game?

  Once he figured that out, he’d be okay. Did she want him? Did she hate him? Was it both? What did every person who’d ever played a game want to know?

  The rules?

  Sure, those would be nice but not necessary. He wanted to know the end result.

  Was this winnable? No hearts, no strings. Just the peace of the moment they could have together. No hurt feelings.

  Dani sat where he preferred her for the moment, safely inside her car. Stefan’s confidence leaped. Because she wasn’t on the outside, affecting him and saying no to him, tormenting him. She couldn’t walk away from him in there. She’d already tested his very last limit. Was he a fool to think the thin glass was really going to keep him safe from her? Wait, who needed safe-keeping?

  With her there, he was in control. He was the one who could call the shots and act like this was simply a game of attraction. So what if that was complete bullshit? Stefan wished his band brothers were there with him now. He could really use a well meant kick in the ass and the reminder that life could be very real.

  Will would tell him love is the one thing you don’t keep hidden in the dark.

  The band’s brilliant webmaster, Benny, and his patience that Stefan was so fucking jealous of, would remind him to ease up and play it cool.

  Good ole Marion would take him out for a beer and some pool. Problem solved.

  Jaxon. Man, Jaxon who had survived so much crap the last twenty years they’d been in the band together. Tragic shit. The Aussie still battled his demons but he smiled most every day now. Stefan knew Jaxon’s wife and daughter, his girls, did that for him.

  Was Stefan ready to listen? Way back, like all the way back in his mind, he wondered if maybe it was time to consider quitting the game. There was something about seeing her in there, protecting what was hers.

  One thing he couldn’t do was stand out here all night. Rain soaked through his hair and began to do the same to his shirt.

  He stepped up to her car, leaned in and tapped on her passenger side window but she clearly mouthed the word No.

  Fine, he could be creative when he wanted something and felt bad for how he’d already treated her. He leaned closer and then wrote through the raindrops on the window with his finger, TALK.

  Nothing.

  He tried again. PLEASE.

  Zilch.

  His head dipped and he tried once more. If she didn’t go for this one, he was done. This didn’t mean anything to her and it shouldn’t mean anything to him.

  Instead of using his finger to write, he leaned down, and then pressed a kiss to the glass. The rain felt nice on his dry lips. He probably looked foolish but luckily he didn’t care right now. He took a step back and waited. It took a few seconds, but the lock sounded with a pop. He tried the handle.

  She’d let him in.

  Exhilaration at the clear win spiked his pulse for a moment until he realized something.

  They had to talk and he doubted Dani was going to like anything he had to say.

  ****

  Stefan Calderon could do her a favor and let this day end. Like it should have a few hours ago. Why couldn’t he have let her do her nightly puking and then gone to hide up in her bedroom? Why did he have to look at her the way he did? And the way he teased her, it was like he was the sour green apples and the damn delicious pie they turned into all within a moment’s notice.

  He was being cruel and adorable which she had learned the past twelve hours had to be the man’s nature. It was hard to believe he was Gina’s son. The finger writing reminded her how wet it was outside. Each time he stroked his finger to make a new letter on the glass, she had nowhere to go but crawling back to images of them in the bathroom stall and his magic hands. His warm, strong chest. The soft black curls topping his wicked angel’s head. No, he was no angel.

  She wasn’t opening the door.

  He should go home.

  Back to his mom who rarely got excited but had smiled more than usual this past week. Then he leaned in and all she could see were his puckered lips, pressed against the glass.

  Soft yet hard, cinnamon. Wet. Hungry lips. Alive and male, not just a photo in a magazine.

  What did he want? To pick up where they’d left off?

  He’d proven enough and made her feel incredibly sexy in those split seconds of their kiss and play, she’d decided that much. With recent events, that would have to be enough. Now she was left with the daunting reminder that he paid her paycheck. She couldn’t get that out of her head no matter how hard she tried. She glanced down at the rock star on the page and then back up at the man standing out in the rain.

  Which was he? Boss, friend, forbidden? Those waters were so murky, her head spun.

  But this kiss print he’d left on her window meant something. She wasn’t sure what or why. Lucky for him, Dani’s heart wasn’t in the business of hurting others, no matter how battered and bruised it was right now. In other words, she was a sucker for this man.

  He wiped at his face as rain fell from his sleek black waves, made straighter from the water. God, his brooding brand of sexy killed her.

  She pushed the unlock button and the doors popped open.

  He quickly hopped inside and sat on her magazine before she could remove it. Maybe he hadn’t seen it and she’d be spared the embarrassment. He dried his hands on the thighs of his jeans while she cringed, mentally crossing fingers he couldn’t feel it under his ass.

  “Thank you,” he said.

  She just nodded.

  “Would it kill you to say you’re welcome?” he asked.

  She would have under different circumstances.

  “So this lot. It’s nice. If I was gonna be a stubborn pain in the ass, I’d have picked it too,” he said, not giving up.

  “You’ve got a lot of nerve,” she finally let out.

  “You don’t deny it.”

  No, she didn’t. He would have been more correct if he called her an irrational stubborn pain in the ass. But admitting that to him made her queasy. So did the way her body treated the man’s presence like he was the gold standard of carrots and she the malnourished rabbit.

  She tried not to look at him straight on but that didn’t matter. It just sent her
nose in search of his scent. Cinnamon, again. She would not think of how satisfying his taste was.

  “You said you had a bone to pick with me. I’m assuming you’re wanting to tell me that the truck stop incident this morning was a huge mistake. So here’s where I tell you I already know that. And don’t worry, you don’t have to have dinner with me.” Mistake or not, she still wanted him.

  “The bone that needs picking has nothing to do with that, sweetheart.” His chocolate brown gaze stripped her bare and stoked the need she was barely able to keep hidden.

  So. Unfair. That word and the way it made her want to melt into his chest.

  “It doesn’t?” she asked, hearing her voice hike up at the end. She shouldn’t let that happen again.

  “No. Turns out that particular bone isn’t as important as I thought.”

  “What? Why not?” She wanted to ask him why he’d chased her out here then if it wasn’t to have this discussion. But oh no, it was just then that he ever so slightly lifted his ass and reached a hand down underneath it. She went bug-eyed, then blew out a breath and pretended to see something out her side window. She wouldn’t look his way.

  After a deafeningly silent minute, she heard him chuckle, low and dark. “Ahem. Read anything good lately?”

  “You’re mean.”

  “I know. Look at me,” he said.

  But Dani just kept her eyes trained on the rivulets of rain showering her window and what she could now hear gaining in intensity in the distance and see crackling over the tops of faraway hills. Thunder and lightning. Round four, five or six. She’d lost count.

  “Well, we can talk about this fun magazine or there’s always the time we got gas together and ended up…”

  She cleared her throat and shot out the first question she could think of to keep him from going there. “What is it you’re so famous for saying?” Don’t fidget. He’s just another man.

  “Hmm. I thought for sure you’d want to know about the bean bags.”

  A tiny line of built up dust wedged in the cracks of the gear shift console caught her shifting eyes. It needed cleaning. Why had she never cleaned that before? She ran her fingernail over it, repeatedly trying to dislodge the bits. Stop it. She pulled her hand back into her lap.

  “Fine, what’s the deal with the bean bags?” she asked, refusing to look at him yet and desperate to hide how curious she was about the silly things as well. Her imagination brought fresh waves of color to her neck and face. If the man did what he did in a bathroom stall, lord only knew what he’d be willing to do on a bean bag. She imagined him folding her like a pretzel and licking the salt from her sweaty body.

  “Jaxon once told some interviewer that I could play bass anywhere a man could have sex. And then jokingly said I often engaged in the two at the same time. Somehow bean bags got thrown into the mix.”

  She didn’t want to give in but it was impossible. “So now you get asked about it.”

  “All the time.”

  “That must suck.”

  He let out a small laugh. “I could, in fact, perform both acts very well on bean bags but in case you were wondering, I don’t.”

  “I wasn’t curious,” she lied through tight lips, her pretzel fantasy making her mouth dry.

  Stefan was doing something with his tongue and his teeth inside his mouth, she just had no idea what. Outwardly, his cocky grin gave way to what she could only describe as sincerity.

  “If you think you could stand to look at my ugly mug, I’d appreciate it.” He laid a hand in her hair and without thought, she turned her head all the way. That was no ugly mug. He was more handsome than any other man she’d ever met. So much so that his good looks made her nervous. A drop of water fell from the wet skin of his wrist and landed on her collarbone. It reminded her of the tear that had fallen earlier today, before she’d met him. She fought to keep her breath even.

  “Why do you hold your guitar so low? It doesn’t look comfortable, at all.”

  Something she said made him grin.

  “What’s so funny?” she asked.

  “Nothing. You’re just very pretty. And I like the way you talk when you’re nervous.”

  How dare he point that out right here in the face of all her nervousness? “So you’re not going to answer me.”

  “It looks good in pictures. Now you. Why did you let me … kiss you today?” he asked.

  Well that’s one way of putting it.

  “Why didn’t you tell me who you were?” she shot back.

  Their eyes locked on each other and their jaws worked in the same grinding way.

  “I could ask you the same thing, Daniela.”

  She shook her head. “You didn’t tell me what you’re famous for saying and yes, I’d still rather talk about that than the other thing.”

  He muttered something she couldn’t quite hear and she asked him to repeat himself.

  “You, uh, you’re not gonna like this. I believe the quote said I wasn’t proud of it.”

  “It said you had regrets about it.”

  Great, now he knew how intently she’d read.

  His chest rose, the pristine white shirt still showing off that broad, contoured appeal as he breathed in and out. He rubbed a hand over the muscled parts and Dani ached to lay her head there, right in the middle. She’d have imagined it even had she not been so exhausted and tried to decide if his chest was furry or bare. Did he have more tattoos? Would he let her pet him for hours on end?

  He smirked and then ran his hands through his wet curls. He’d definitely let her have at those with as much as he touched his hair himself.

  She should ask him just to get that smirk off his face but he spoke up instead.

  “My usual response when people ask if I feel bad about shit I’ve done in the past, is the standard ‘Unless you and I are fucking, you really shouldn’t care.’”

  After digesting his very concise and in-your-face words, Dani turned in her seat, touched. “And you regret saying that now? Because I kind of think you might have a point.”

  It was as if some invisible hypnotist snapped their fingers, causing both hers and Stefan’s faces to relax. He even half-smiled.

  “Did you feel that? I’m pretty sure a miracle just happened. You just agreed with me. Hey.” His voice became tender, lower. “I wasn’t hiding who I was from you today. You never asked me for my name and when you saw my license, I didn’t bolt. Now you on the other hand, could have told me several things. You’re Sandra’s grown daughter, you’re my mom’s live-in nurse, you’re having a baby.” His voice gentled at that last part of his remark and his eyes went to her stomach.

  She tried not to bristle at what felt like accusations and took a moment to close her eyes then open them again.

  “I guess this is where we try to move on and forget about all those things. I’d sure as hell like to start the day over,” she said.

  “Yeah, about that. So what happened this morning? Because I was pretty flattered but I’m seriously worried if the woman taking care of my mother is out picking up dudes in truck stop toilets. Wanna talk about him?”

  Not. If. Her. Life. Depended. On. It.

  Chapter Nine

  The problem with Stefan Calderon wasn’t that he could have a woman out of her panties—anytime, anyplace—in under sixty seconds, it was that he had the same effect on Dani’s thoughts. At this rate and with him this close, she was going to need a needle and thread for her mouth. More than she’d ever intended on sharing started spilling from her lips.

  “You want to hear about how I was dumped?”

  He nodded and ran his hands through his hair again. He had to stop doing that. But a curl, heavy and shiny black from the rain, fell halfway down his forehead and now it was her turn to smile inside. Superman. She pressed her lips, containing her slip. Why did she feel so safe around him?

  If she didn’t know better, she’d say Stefan knew exactly what she’d been looking at. And that half-quirked, devilish grin yelled he
liked it.

  His tongue slid along his lower lip and then it was hidden again. “Let’s start with a name. What do we call this young man of questionable intelligence?” he asked with a straight face.

  She laughed at the absurdity of her situation. “His name is Thom. You’re gonna love this. He’s a soldier and his specialty is the intelligence field. And before you crack a joke on him, he’s currently deployed to Afghanistan so…”

  “So he’s supposed to be hero material,” Stefan said gently.

  “He is. Just not mine.” Her lip quivered. Dammit.

  “How sure are you about that?” She felt the rough pad of his fingertip settle at the corner of her mouth. It helped, a little. “I find it hard to believe he’d let you go.”

  “As sure as the email he sent me this morning where he did the stand-up thing and was honest. He told me he fell in love over there. She’s deployed with him and she’s such a great person that he knows I’d like her too.”

  “But uh, assuming you’re the good girl I suspect, except for when faced with your one weakness that is—truck stop johns—you don’t strike me as the type to sleep around. So this guy is your baby’s father?”

  “For the record, I’m not the only one with that weakness.”

  He dipped his head at that and pressed his lips together. She wished they could kiss again but knew it would only feel good while they were here. Once they returned to her house, scratch that, his and his mom’s house, all the wrongness of what they were doing would come flooding back.

  Mrs. C would never approve.

  Relationships were sacred. Not to be taken lightly and only when you were sure the person would love you back forever. They’d had a few mother-daughter-like talks when Dani’s mom had passed and Gina had taken her in. Mrs. C’s adamancy about committed loving relationships was why Dani hadn’t said anything about Thom and the pregnancy yet. Those would be strikes one and two. Inappropriate relations with Stefan would be three. And Dani began to realize now, she should have kept her big mouth shut rather than spill everything to Stefan. Her wrist bones cracked as she rotated them tightly. What if her secret got out before she was ready? When would she be ready? Pretty soon she wouldn’t be able to hide it. Never or right now, either way, her stomach flip-flopped.