August: Calendar Girl Book 8 (7 page)

Cyndi scooted over close to me, her eyes worried. She pressed a hand to my knee, and I covered it with my own, needing the womanly solidarity as I worked through this with Maddy, hoping against all hope that I could convince her that she needed to wait. Take the time to be young and in love and not rush into such a huge life change.

Maddy sighed. “I feel like he just wants to hurry it all, and even though I know I want to marry him, and that he’s it for me, I still want to take it slower, you know?”

I nodded rapidly and pushed my hair back behind my ear. “Did you tell him that?”

A groan came through the line, and I heard a plop. Almost as if she’d fallen back on a soft surface like her bed, cradling the phone to her ear, the same way she used to when she was a teenager living at home with Pops and me. “Yeah, but then he got all sad like, thinking I didn’t really love him because I wouldn’t elope. He wanted to go to the strip and do one of those quickie chapels all by ourselves. Said we’d keep it a secret and then do it big when we graduated, like we planned.”

No, no, no, no. I pressed my thumbs into my temples so hard I might actually have left marks. With extreme effort, I took several slow breaths before responding. “And what did you say to that?”

There was a long pause before her voice cracked. “I told him that I could never get married without you there. That it would break your heart, and I’d rather walk across hot coals than hurt you. I love you, Mia. I could never do that. I promised you.”

I sighed and gripped my hair at the crown so hard the pain brought a little clarity. “I love you too, Sis, but you can’t make your decisions based on how I would respond. If that’s what you want to do, even though it would make me sad to miss it, I’d support you.”

The sob that tore through the phone broke me into a shattering mess of emotions. I wanted to be there for her, to hold her, help her through this confusing time in her life. “No, it’s not just that. I do want you there. Period. And if Matt can’t understand that, well, tough titty.”

“Tough titty?” I snickered and repeated it on a chuckle. “Tough titty? Maddy I can’t believe you just said that!” My prim and proper little sis had a bit of a mouth on her. One she’d never before used in front of me.

She laughed. “It just came out.”

“Well, it was funny. And honey, don’t worry. You and Matt will work this out. Part of being in a relationship, a real one, the forever kind, is working through the good, bad, and the ugly times. This is just one of those times where you’re going to have to agree to disagree. Tell him how you feel. Explain that you want to wait, spend more time being engaged and focused on school. The rest will come. If he loves you, honey, which I know he does, he’ll understand. Eventually. Don’t let him pressure you into something you’re not ready for, okay?”

Another sigh, and then I heard a noise in the background. Maddy gasped and then the phone crackled with static. “Baby, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I should have never tried to force you to get married now. I just love you so much. Forgive me. Forgive me. Don’t leave me.” I heard Matt’s muffled plea through the line.

Then Maddy whispered, “I gotta go, Mia.” Her voice was choked up again.

“Go get your man, baby girl. I love you.” I wiped an errant tear that had trickled down my cheek.

“I love you more,” she said and then hung up.

I clicked off the phone, crossed my arms over my chest and let the tears fall. Before I knew it, a set of big arms were around me, cuddling me close. “I miss her so much,” I said into the rock-hard chest I found myself against for the second time that day.

Max squeezed me tight, and another hand rubbed up and down my back. Smaller, more feminine. Cyndi, I gathered.

“Let’s bring your girl out to Texas,” Max said into my hair where he kissed my temple the way I imagined a brother would do for his real sister. But I wasn’t his sister and that thought made the tears come even harder.

Sniffing in his leather and male scent, I pressed my palms into his chest. Damn, he really was hard as steel. “I can’t do that. You need me focused on the business, and besides, you’ve been so nice.”

He shook his head, and his wife repeated the gesture. “Nope. We’d love to have her out if she can get away.”

Technically, she was on school break my subconscious supplied helpfully. Then I remembered Matt. “She’d never come, anyway. She and her fiancé live together, very new, and I doubt he’d be okay with letting her come to Texas to be with a strange man.”

Max frowned, and his wife looked around the room as if trying to find something else to focus on.

“I’m not strange to you. Besides, we’ll bring them both out. We have plenty of room. The more the merrier,” Max said.

I shot out of his arms, needing the space. The man’s arms and comfortable nature clouded all judgment. “What? No. You can’t do that. You don’t even know them. Besides, why would you want to have my sister and her fiancé here? It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Would it make you happy? You said you missed her.”

I shook my head, expecting a moment of clarity to hit at some point, but nothing happened. Just more fog and confusion. “Well, yeah, but this trip is not about me. It’s about you and saving your assets.”

That’s when nice, sweet, down-to-earth Max changed. His eyes narrowed into slits, his lips pursed so tight they were a thin line, and he clenched his jaw so tight he could probably cut glass. “My assets mean nothing without the love of my family. So we’ll bring your sister and her fella here. End of story. Cyndi, darlin’, will you make that happen?” His request brooked no argument.

“Yes, honey. Mia and I will make it happen tomorrow. Go on, go calm down. Have a cigar and a scotch with Hank. I’ll talk with her,” she responded as if I weren’t in the room. In the room, hell, as if I wasn’t on the same god damned continent.

The stress of the day, spending quality time with Max, drinking the pink lemonade, talking Mads through her life decision, and now Max pushing his decisions on me had taken its toll. Stick a fork in me, I was done. D-O-N-E. I needed bed and about ten hours of sleep.

Without a word, I stormed off toward my room.

Cyndi called after me, catching me at the stairs. “Mia?”

“Tomorrow. Right now, I need some space and sleep. Can you just give me that, or do you need your husband to order you to leave me alone?” I snapped.

She gasped, and a pained expression stole across her features. Licking her lips, she nodded, turned, and waddled out of the room.

With a heavy heart, I climbed the stairs. I’d apologize to Cyndi tomorrow. She didn’t deserve my wrath. It was just that not one thing since I’d come to Dallas made a lick of sense. Between Max’s constant need to call me his sister, to the emotional breakdowns of not only Max but Maddy, I was drained. Now my client, the man who had hired me to do a job, wanted to bring my sister and her fiancé out to stay with us in Texas. Who the hell does that?

If I thought about it, really thought about it, most of the men I’d been hired by would have done the same thing if they’d seen me break down. I shouldn’t have done that, had that conversation with Maddy in front of an audience. Only, when I was talking to her, and she was so stressed, reality was stripped away, and the one thing that mattered was making sure she was okay.

Maddy’s happiness had been the one thing most important to me. Now it seemed as if I had all of these people around me who actually cared about what I thought, what I needed. I was barely getting used to Weston giving me that kind of attention, let alone a horde of other people I now considered friends.

Friends.

That was it. Is that how a friend responded? I mean, if I took Ginelle for instance, that crazy broad would move Heaven and Earth to ensure I was safe and happy. Whatever she could give me within her power, she’d attempt. Was this situation the same thing? Max and Cyndi attempting to be friendly? I guessed so. Hell, I didn’t know. We hadn’t been what one would consider friends very long. Was there a time limit on how long you needed to be friends before they started offering expensive plane tickets and week-long stays with extended members of your family? A month, a year, a decade?

Rubbing my eyes, I belly flopped onto the bed and snuggled in. Why did they care so much about a person who really wasn’t their family? Overwhelmed and emotionally drained, I decided there wasn’t anything I could do about it tonight. Sleep was in order. Tomorrow I’d deal with the overly generous Cunninghams, and I’d apologize to Cyndi for snapping at her and being rude. Everything would be clearer in the light of day.

A
pparently the Cunninghams
had absolutely no concern for another person’s privacy. By the time I’d woken up and checked my phone, there were texts from both Weston and Maddy. I scanned them both while rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Maddy’s message proved my point perfectly.

To: Mia Saunders

From: Maddy

OMG Matt and I are so excited about coming to Texas. Yee-haw! We’ll be there Friday! Your friend Cyndi was really nice BTW. Totally cool. Booked us on a private plane!

To: Mia Saunders

From: Maddy

Did you get my last text?

To: Mia Saunders

From: Maddy

Private plane!! Eeek! So cool!

Jesus! It looked like little miss Cyndi-farm-girl worked fast. Somehow she got Maddy’s number from my phone without me noticing it. Then I looked around the room. My outfit from yesterday was folded up and sitting on the dresser, and a quick tug at my clothes showed I was in a man’s T-shirt. A really big T-shirt. Huge in fact. I exhaled on a long sigh. She’d changed me. Oh, man. Now I felt like a serious bitch. The sweet prego came into my room, found me face down, shoes and all, and took care of me. Even gave me one of her husband’s shirts. Crap. I hope she didn’t have Max help her. That would be doubly embarrassing. Then again, she did steal my phone and invade my privacy to do her husband’s bidding, which put her firmly in the not all together peaches-and-cream category.

T
o
: Mia Saunders

From: Wes Channing

Hey, sweetheart. Missed your voice last night. Let me know you’re okay.

W
ithout delay
, I hit Weston’s name and called him, needing that connection I only had with the man I’d now come to love with my whole being. Sitting on the bed and crossing my legs, I waited rather impatiently for him to answer.

Just as I thought I’d have to leave a message, his breathy tone came through the line. “Mia,” he said in lieu of a greeting, “you okay?”

I snorted, thinking I was pretty far from okay but not in any real danger. Only the losing my mind kind. “Yeah. Sorry I didn’t call last night. I think I fell asleep before my head even hit the pillow. It was a really long day. Unbelievably long.”

“Oh, yeah, tell me about it. I’ve got some time now, and I missed you.”

Hearing him say he missed me made my chest tighten and my sex quicken. Damn, the things this man did to me. A couple more weeks and I’d be doing something about it. At that point though, without the benefit of having his physical form to work out the tension I carried, I went through the entire day, even breaking boy code and telling him about Max’s collapse at the company, even the way Cyndi reacted strangely around me as if she were walking on eggshells. I also told him about Max’s cousin Sofia Cunningham and how she was less than pleased about my sudden appearance in the family, right when she was about to get a fat portion of that forty-nine percent take of Cunningham Oil & Gas. Then I explained the situation with Maddy and what went down last night, including how Cyndi had taken care of me and then invaded my personal things and contacted Maddy without asking me.

For a long time Wes didn’t say anything. “Babe, you there?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m here. Just not too happy about everything you said. I knew it was odd when you told me about the job initially, and my investigator has found nothing but good things about the guy. He’s solid, a family man, big in business and heir to the Cunningham Oil & Gas fortune. Apparently, the Cunninghams are keeping the sister and percentage deal under wraps because my guy said he couldn’t find a word of it in his research.”

“Really? Hmm, I guess it makes sense to keep it quiet until they figure it all out.” I pushed a lock of hair back behind my ear and worried my lip. “Wes, it’s hard being here. The more time I spend with this family, the more I wish it were real,” I whispered, afraid if I said it any louder the truth might swallow me whole.

Wes exhaled loudly. “Sweetheart, I know you crave that connection. Just don’t get too attached. Besides, you’ve got me and Maddy. We’re your family. You’ll always have a home with me, babe, and my family. And someday down the road, we’ll be making that legal.” His tone was matter of fact, but the words hit my heart like a shock to the system, fraying the edges of my nerves beyond distinction. I was now a ball of nervous energy awaiting the next magnetic pulse.
Holy fuck.
Did he just insinuate what I think he insinuated?

“Wes…” I warned, not wanting to address it at all, but knowing if I didn’t, it would fuck with my head something awful.

“I know, I know. You’re not ready for marriage talk.” He chuckled, and it lightened the intensity of the conversation. “Just know, sweetheart, that I’m committed to you for good. Your home is with me and we are family now. Okay?”

Family
. The mere suggestion of it prickled against my skin in a rather pleasant tingling sensation. “Yeah, baby. Okay. How’s the movie-making biz going?” I asked, not wanting everything to always be about me and my problems.

“Good. Though I’m working through a romantic section I could use some real world help with.” His voice took on that gravelly swallowed-a-box-of-rocks timbre that made me giddy with lust and achy for his touch. “Know any hot, long-legged brunettes with tits so big I salivate just thinking about them and an ass I could write an entire ten-page scene to?”

I laughed and twirled a lock of hair around my finger. “Hmm, I could think of someone,” I said, using the sultry, raspy lilt I knew drove him wild.

He groaned. “Christ, sweetheart, I’m already hard.”

“Mmm, pull it out.” I could hear the sound of a zipper sliding down and a shuffling of clothing.

“Okay,” he responded. The needy tone set my confidence-meter spiraling into space.

Leaning back against the headboard, I held the phone close to my ear so I could capture every breath. “Wrap your hand around the base and pretend it’s my hand. Squeeze with just enough pressure, but go easy, not too much.” He groaned. “Now lick your thumb and circle it around the tip. Think about my mouth sucking at the crown of your hard cock. Flicking my tongue against the little patch of skin that makes you crazy.”

“Fuck, it’s making me crazy now. Need you here, sweetheart,” he moaned.

“I’m licking up and down your shaft, smooth and swift. I reach my hand down to cup and fondle your balls, and then take you down my throat in one swift suck. It’s so deep I can hardly breathe, gasping around your length until you take mercy on me and pull back, giving me more room. You taste so good, like the sea and man. My man. Oh, baby, I’m so wet for you.” I gasped and Wes’s breath came in labored pants as I set the scene.

Throwing caution to the wind, I snaked a hand between my own legs and under the lace of my undies. “I’m soaked for you, Wes.”

“You touching that pretty pussy?” he growled.

“Mmm, yeah, thinking about you tugging on your hard cock, imagining it’s me is such a turn on, baby.” I groaned and worked my clit in fast, tight circles. It didn’t take long for me to start humping the air, reaching for a body that was fifteen hundred miles away.

“You almost there?” I asked when he groaned.

“Oh, yeah, you fucking that sweet cunt with your fingers, nice and hard like I would?” The mental image roared through me, and thinking about how large his fingers were inside me sent a fresh flood of moisture through my sex.

“Yeah,” I rasped and held my breath, pushing two fingers into the wet heat. I let the base of my hand crush my clit, sending tremors of pleasure from my center, up my chest, and out each limb. “Gonna come…”

“Me too. I’m yanking hard on my cock, thinking about how I’m going to take you up against the front door the second you get here a couple weeks from now. I’ll tear your panties off and shove into you, pierce you with my dick so hard you’ll never want to leave me again.”

“Wes, Wes, Wes…” I chanted, lifting my hips, fucking myself, imaging him pounding me into the wooden surface. My guy loved fucking me against walls and doors. I pressed hard on the bundle of nerves that literally throbbed in time with the sound of his harsh breathing through the line, and my orgasm ripped through me. My entire body tightened, the sensitive tissue between my thighs clutching at the two fingers I still had imbedded deep inside. “God, yes! I love you,” I whispered in the phone just as his voice rushed out in a stream of profanity.

“Fuck, baby. So good. Sexy, fucking woman. Christ. Mine. All mine,” he roared into the phone, and I leisurely fingered my clit, letting the little jolts of pleasure work their way out as I listened to my guy get off on the thought of fucking me. Soon his breathing slowed. “Sweetheart…I love your voice. It’s like liquid sex on the phone.”

I giggled and held the phone tight to me ear. “I enjoyed hearing you come for me. Thanks for reciprocating.”

He hummed. “Mmm, pleasure was all mine, Mia. I’ll be busy tonight, but call me anyway. Leave me a message before you go to bed so I know you’re okay. And remember, I love you.”

I smiled huge. Being intimate with Wes, even by phone, gave me the second wind I needed to figure out how I was going to deal with the well-meaning Cunninghams.

“I love you too. Have a good day at work.”

“You too, sweetheart. Call if you need me.”

I wanted to tell him that I’d always need him, but that was too mushy even for me. Instead, I just waited until he hung up, clinging to the phone like it was my own personal lifeline.

T
hat evening
, a dream I’d had a few times over the years came back. I was around four years old and playing at special park-like area connected to one of the local Vegas casinos. A young boy with a mop of yellow curls on his head led me around by the hand.

“Dad says I have to keep an eye on you because he has a real important meeting with your mom.” The boy was older than I was, maybe two times as old. He had funny looking hair and big teeth with a gap between the two front ones. “How old are you?”

“Four and a half,” I answered as if I were much older than I looked.

He climbed up a small rock wall, went down on a knee, and held out his hand to help me climb. I put my foot on the nub tentatively until I realized that I could balance pretty well.

“I’m ten already. Double digits,” he said with a sense of pride as if aging were something a person could win an award for, and he’d already gotten his trophy.

Instead of grabbing his hand, I pulled myself up. Even though I was really proud I’d made the climb, I pretended it was easy. “My pops says age is only a number. One that’s best served on one of those black-and-white-and red wheels they have at Mommy’s casino.”

“Roulette?” His eyebrows came to a funny point.

I shrugged, not really sure, though Pops liked to hang out at the table that had it. That’s where he was now. Playing that game. Mom was working her fancy show with that man. I knew it had to be really important because she wore these outfits with diamonds all over them and big feathers coming out of her hair and behind her back. The ones from her back almost touched the floor, and they were so soft. She would let me pet them, but I was never allowed to play with her fancy clothes. She said they were too expensive and worried I’d mess them up.

“My dad likes your mom,” The boy said as he swung from one rung on the monkey bars to the other. I stood at the edge of the spot where he’d swung but couldn’t reach the bars even on my tippy toes.

“Everyone likes my mom. She’s an act-tress.” My tongue got stuck rolling around the word Mommy said all the time. “If people don’t like her, she’s not doing her job right.” I repeated what Mom told me before.

The boy nodded, his hair flopping over his eyes. He pushed the strands away, and his intense green eyes stared back at me. People told me all the time that my eyes were like a cat’s, but I thought this boy’s eyes looked more like a cat’s. Kind of like Mom’s. “Well, my daddy says he wants to marry your mommy and be a family. That would make you my sister.”

I frowned. “He can’t marry my mommy because she’s already got my dad. With a ring and everything.”

The boy’s eyes narrowed. “Really? I don’t think he knows that.” His happy face turned sad. “I was hoping for a mommy and yours is pretty and nice.”

I shook my head. “She’s not very nice, just good at pretending to be nice.”

His head tipped to the side. “Is she mean to you?”

Walking over to the swings, I sat down. “No. But she doesn’t like me as much as my friends’ mommies like them.”

He got behind me, pulled back the swing, and pushed me forward, giving me a good head start. I would be able to keep it up now that he got it going. Then he went over to the other swing and sat but didn’t move it. “Then I don’t want her as my mommy.”

“Yeah, maybe your daddy could pick a nicer one?” I offered.

“That’s a good idea. I think I’ll help him find me a really nice and pretty one. Maybe you could help me?”

I smiled wide and dragged my foot on the ground stopping the swing. “That would be fun.”

The boy and I spent the next hour or so walking around the casino, holding hands, pointing out women that could be his new mommy. Unfortunately, we couldn’t agree on the right woman before his dad and my mommy found us. She was crying, and when she got down on one knee, she shook me and screamed that we were supposed to stay at the playground. The man got down at eye level with the boy, put both hands on his shoulders, and scolded him, but the boy didn’t cry. He apologized, and his dad told him how scared he was and hugged him tight. My mom didn’t hug me at all. The boy looked at me with sadness in his eyes over his dad’s shoulder, mouthing, “sorry.” I waved and watched as the man grabbed Mom’s hand, pulled her close, and kissed her.

The boy’s dad kept kissing Mommy until she shoved him away and told him to stop. He asked her to come with him, to bring me and run away, leave this life and go with him. Right then, my pops walked up, showing Mom a bucketful of chips. He lifted me up, spun me around, and hugged me hard, the way he always did. My pops gave the best hugs. Then he showed Mom the bucket and pulled her into his side, saying we were going to a steak dinner. She smiled and turned away from the boy and the man as if she’d never even known them.