Dirty Thoughts (10 page)

Chapter Fourteen

J
ACK
P
AYTON WAS
going to have a heart attack. Because standing in the foyer of Cal’s house, in a pair of faded Converses and a beat-up duffel bag, was a teenager staring back at Cal with Max’s eyes.

With Jill’s eyes.

Cal didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

How his sorry excuse for a mother hadn’t informed her other three children that she’d had another child was a mystery. But yet, here he was, nervously licking his lips, looking like a mash-up of Max, Brent, and a third guy who must be his father.

Cal knew what it was like to be let down by someone he thought he could depend on. He wanted to drive to Virginia and beat the shit out of this kid’s dad, but what good would that do? He thought the best thing to do would be to send the kid home. Asher wasn’t his responsibility, but by the time he found the bus schedule and got the kid to the bus station, it’d be dark. And Cal couldn’t bring himself to drop off a scared teenager at a bus stop to travel to Virginia at night.

He’d have to give the kid a place to sleep tonight, and then he’d call Jill in the morning to arrange a way to get the kid home. But it niggled in the back of his mind that it must be pretty bad at home for this kid to leave and show up on a stranger’s doorstep.

Cal looked pointedly at the kid’s shoes, and Asher hurriedly toed them off. He stood and looked around awkwardly. “Um, I like your place.”

Cal didn’t respond.

Jenna stepped forward. “Hi, I’m Jenna.”

Asher eyed her. “I didn’t know Cal was married.”

“Oh, he’s not. I’m just a friend.”

Asher raised his eyebrows, like he didn’t really believe that.

Cal ignored Asher’s interest in Jenna. “You need food? Shower? A bed? Because I got all three, but I’ll tell you right now—I’m not your servant. You’ll clean up after yourself, or I’ll shave off that ugly haircut in your sleep.”

Asher’s head jerked up. “What’s wrong with my hair?”

“What isn’t wrong with it?”

The kid’s eyes narrowed. “This haircut cost me eighty dollars.”

“Mine cost me ten minutes and a number-three attachment on my razor.”

“Wow, you’re a total dude.”

“Last time I checked. You need food?”

Asher pressed his lips together. “I could eat.”

Jenna stepped forward. “You said there’s a spare bedroom upstairs, right? I’ll go get it together. Why don’t you two head into the kitchen and get something to drink?” She held her fingers out for Asher’s bag. Cal looked at her for the first time since Asher showed up.

This was a lot for Cal to handle, this knowledge of a blood relative, this sudden responsibility, even if it was for the night. She offered him a smile, a reassuring one, and he clung to it like a raft in a storm. Thank God she was here, with her presence and her light. He could fall apart later, but for now, he could do this.

Asher handed Jenna his bag, and Cal cleared his throat. “Thanks, Jenna.”

He led Asher into the kitchen and handed him a water bottle, keeping one for himself. Asher sat down at the kitchen table, rolling the bottle between his hands, while Cal leaned against the counter. The kid was jiggling his leg. Cal could see it from the corner of his eye.

“So,” Asher said. “I can stay? I told my mom I was staying with a friend overnight.”

“Thought you didn’t have any friends?” Cal had barely glanced at the card his mom had sent, so he’d missed her change in address. It wasn’t like he ever sent anything back to her.

“I don’t. I made one up.”

“And she didn’t call the parent of this ‘friend’ to check before you spent the night?”

Asher shook his head.

Cal clamped down the anger and wiped his hand over his mouth. “You can stay tonight. I’m not putting you on a bus back home now. We’ll call your mother tomorrow and figure it out then.”

Asher’s head was down, and he was making circles on the table with his index finger. Cal waited him out, until the kid looked up at him with those big Max-like eyes. “Okay, thank you.”

“Plus, I think you’re going to want to meet your other brothers. I’ll call them tomorrow.”

Asher looked like he was trying to hide his excitement. “Are they like you?”

“Like me, how?”

“Um, like, all . . . ” Asher puffed out his chest and held his arms out from his body like his biceps were huge. “Don’t dirty my house,” he said in a false low voice. “Do what I say. Grrrr.”

A laugh burst out of Cal before he could rein it in. “That’s what I sound like, huh? Maybe punk kids who make fun of me get put back on a bus.”

Asher held out his hands in alarm. “No, no, no! I’m sorry!” He grimaced. “Shit,” he said under his breath.

Cal smiled. “Hey, I’m just kidding. Brent is, uh, a jokester. He’ll tease you a lot and give you a hard time. Max will be your buddy. He’s good at making friends.”

Asher relaxed a little as Jenna came into the kitchen. She had her hair pulled up onto the top of her head in a messy knot, and everything about her posture showed purpose. “Okay, Asher? I got you set up in the spare bedroom. Your bed is made, and I put away your clothes.”

Asher was in midsip of water and choked. “You put away my—”

“I put all your toiletries in the bathroom, and fresh towels are out,” Jenna said.

Cal leaned back, watching her take charge. His woman sure knew how to get shit done.

And as soon as that thought went through his head, he wanted to kick himself.
His woman.
He’d always called her his girl in high school. Because that’s what she’d been. But now? She was
all
woman now, and fuck it if his brain hadn’t just skipped forward, still attaching that goddamn pronoun. That’s what this weekend had done. She was no longer the girl he’d loved in high school. She was the beautiful, independent, smart woman that he could see himself falling for all over again.
Shit.

Asher was blinking at her. “Thank you?”

She turned to Cal. “So, I’ll just head out and let you two . . . catch up.”

Cal frowned. “But I have to take you home—”

She waved a hand. “I’ll call Delilah.”

“You could take my truck. I still have my bike—”

Her smile was tight. “Cal, really, it’s fine. Delilah’s shop is closed by now. I’ll just head on out to the road and call her.”

This was it, and there’d be no embrace, no last-minute kiss, no nothing, because Asher was staring at them, and Cal’s stomach was cramping from nerves.

But this moment . . . this moment could be something. He could tell her to stay. He could wrap her in his arms and tell Asher that Jenna was his girlfriend. And Jenna was giving him this decision, her hands clenched at her sides, her face a little hopeful.

But the anxiety crept up his spine, telling him that he couldn’t get swept up in this temporary arrangement that was making him question everything he’d believed for the past ten years.

So he let the moment pass. And he nodded. And then he watched as Jenna’s face fell, just slightly, before she slipped out the door.

He didn’t have time to wallow, though, because he had a teenager in the house who probably needed to eat dinner.

He took a deep breath and began scrounging in his refrigerator for food.

C
AL STARED AT
his phone in his hands. The three cigarettes he’d sucked down before this phone call hadn’t done much to steady his hands. And it wasn’t even ten in the morning.

He’d slept like shit last night, and he didn’t think the kid fared much better, since he now sat at the kitchen table wearing a pair of cutoff sweatpants, his hair sticking up at all angles, and sporting dark circles under his eyes. A plate of half-eaten scrambled eggs sat in front of him. “What do you think she’ll say?” he asked, his voice way too tiny for a sixteen-year-old guy.

“It’ll be okay, kid,” Cal assured him, even though he didn’t feel it himself. He didn’t want to have to call his mother or hear her voice. He didn’t want to have to tell her that her husband was such a drunk that his kid had run away from home. Rather than delay any longer, Cal typed in his mother’s phone number that Asher had supplied and held the phone up to his ear as it rang.

Once.

Twice.

The third ring was cut off midtrill. “Hello?”

He hadn’t heard her voice in . . . hell, he wasn’t sure. She might have called him a couple of years ago, but he couldn’t remember exactly. He cleared his throat. “Hey, this is Cal.”

There was silence on the other end. It lasted so long that Cal thought she’d hung up. “C-Cal?”

“Yep.”
You know, your firstborn son?

“Oh, well, how are you?”

They weren’t doing this dumb-ass small talk. No way in hell. He plunged right into the meat of his call. “Yeah, so I have Asher here in front of me.” More silence. It stretched on and on until Cal had had enough. “For God’s sake, you wanna act like you give a shit that your kid is in another state?”

“I do care!” she protested. “I’m just shocked. I thought he was with a friend—”

“He lied. He was on a bus to see his brothers—who didn’t even know he existed, by the way, so thanks for that—because your drunk of a husband got behind the wheel, impaired, with Asher in the car.”

“No one was hurt.”

“Excuse me?”

“My husband said there was just a lot of loose gravel on the road—”

“Oh, really? Then why did Asher tell me that wasn’t the first time?”

Silence. Just silence.

How in the hell was Cal going to be able to put this kid back on a bus to his hometown, knowing his dad drove drunk with him in the car and all his mom did was make excuses? How in the fuck was he going to live with that?

“Look, it wasn’t—”

Cal was vibrating with fury now. “He was drunk. Asher knew it, and he was scared shitless. So scared that he put himself on a goddamn bus to seek protection from grown men he’s never even met. Now what the fuck does that tell you?”

Silence. Then a small voice. “I can pay for his ticket home—”

“No, you fucking won’t!” Cal roared. Asher’s face was white as snow, his lips twisted in misery. “He’s staying here until you guys get your shit together. I’m not sending him back so his dad can put his safety at risk.”

“Bill’s not going to like this.”

“I couldn’t give a fuck what Bill likes. He wants to come pry the kid out of my hands, he can fucking bring it.”

“The police—”

“Would love to hear about his drinking problem, I’m sure. You’ve done some low things in your life, Jill, but it’s the fucking lowest not to take this seriously. And thanks for the brother I never knew about.”

And then he ended the call.

He couldn’t stand to hear her make excuses for the husband she’d left his dad for.

Asher had his hands clenched on the table in front of him. He didn’t speak.

And Cal thought he was going to throw up. He’d just accepted the responsibility of taking care of a teenage boy. That was what he’d done, right? He replayed the conversation and glanced at Asher. Yep, that was what he’d done.

Cal was officially crazy.

But he wasn’t cruel. Asher was scared enough to run away, so Cal couldn’t send him right back to where he didn’t feel safe.

The bitch of it was that this was what Cal had worked for ten years to avoid. And now, here he was again, in the same position, with a kid named Asher who reminded him way too much of Max. Cal had fallen head over heels in love with little Max when he was born. He’d been a surprise to everyone. His mother had been pissed, having already checked out of their family, and his dad had been scared shitless. But Cal . . . well, he’d loved that fat baby more than anything.

He’d just laid into Jenna for his not wanting to be responsible for anyone or anything, and then Asher had showed up on his doorstop in a teenage package of irony.

Jesus. Fuck.

He threw his phone onto the countertop with a clatter. “I guess you’re staying here for a while.”

Asher’s expression was so hopeful, it nearly broke Cal’s heart. “A-are you sure?”

Not at all.
“Yep. That woman is impossible.”

“D-do you remember her much? Before she left?”

“Yeah, I do. Brent sort of does. Max doesn’t remember her much at all.”

“Do you know why she left?”

Cal sat down across from Asher and took a sip of the water he’d left on the table. “I think she doesn’t know. She was a good mom for a while, and then she wasn’t, and then she left. It’s as simple and complicated as that. I think she might be a little selfish.”

“So she’s okay with me staying with you?”

“Well, I didn’t really give her much of a chance to protest, but she didn’t seem to have any intention of talking to your dad about his drinking. Until they can tell me you’ll be safe, I’m not taking you back to them.” Asher didn’t cheer or even smile. Cal understood the feeling. Although the kid wanted to stay, he most likely wanted his parents to give a shit that he wasn’t home. “Guess you’re stuck with me for a little while then, kid.”

Asher smiled then. “I think I can live with that.”

Chapter Fifteen

J
ENNA HEARD THE
voices first and closed her eyes, the Ultimate Fudge Brownie Mix box still clutched in her fists. She thought about hiding, but with her luck, she’d knock over a soup display or run over a little kid with her cart, so she stayed put as she waited for Cal and Asher to look up and see her in front of them at the grocery store.

She hadn’t given Delilah any details last night when she’d picked her up. And for once, Delilah had shut up and hadn’t asked too many questions. Jenna had gone home and nursed her wounds with a good book and a large glass of wine. Okay, two glasses. Okay, three-quarters of the bottle.

She rubbed her temples and then heard a “Jenna!” She lifted her gaze to see a grinning Asher walking toward her while a grumpy Cal leaned over the handle of the cart, steel eyes glowing from under the brim of his ball cap.

It reminded her of the night in his tow truck. She didn’t
want
to be reminded of that night in the tow truck. “Hey, Asher,” she said as the teenager drew close.

The kid looked tired but happy. “We’re grocery shopping because I’m staying with Cal for a while.”

She darted her gaze to Cal, who didn’t react. She looked back at Asher. “Why’s that?”

The kid talked to the brownie box in her hand rather than to her. “Cal called my mom and she didn’t . . . uh, I guess Cal thought it was best if I don’t go back there right now. You know . . . ”

He was uncomfortable now, those brown eyes a little pained. Cal made a growling sound in the back of his throat. “Kid’s safer here.”

He’d spent the whole weekend telling Jenna he didn’t want responsibilities and a family—hell, the man didn’t even have a plant—and yet here he was, stepping up because the brother he never knew about needed him.

Yeah, she would have fallen in love with this Cal.

“Cal said he only grocery shops for milk and eggs. His food options are really pathetic,” Asher grumbled. “And I get to meet my brothers tonight, so we need something to make for dinner.”

Cal rolled his eyes. “We’re here, aren’t we?

Jenna smiled and tossed the brownie box she was holding into their cart. Cal looked at it like it was a snake. “What’s that for?”

Jenna had already begun to push her cart away, Asher following her. “What did you say?”

He pointed to the box and grunted.

Jenna wasn’t in the mood for his lack of conversation skills. She had a headache. “Brownies,” she said dryly.

“I know they’re brownies. What’re they for?”

“They aren’t
for
anything. It’s just a box of brownie mix.”

“If they aren’t for anything, then why are they in my cart?”

Asher’s head was shifting back and forth between the two of them. Jenna fought her irritation. “Because everyone should have brownie mix on hand. It’s like Keeping House 101.”

Cal leaned back and placed a hand on his chest. “Well, damn. No one told me that. I guess I’ve been failing Keeping House 101 for ten fucking years then.”

“Can you not swear in the baked goods aisle, Cal?”

“Can you not throw random shit we don’t need in the cart?”

She threw up her hands. “Fine, put the brownies back on the shelf. I don’t care.”

Cal studied the boxes in front of him and then placed the brownies Jenna had picked back on the shelf. She watched, arms over her chest, as he picked up a box labeled Chocolate Chunk and tossed that in his cart instead.

He looked at her with raised eyebrows.

She tapped her fingers on her elbows. “Really?”

He drew an imaginary check mark in the air. “Chocolate Chunk beats Ultimate Fudge. Just saying.”

She pursed her lips, trying to hide a smile, because this all felt incredibly domestic.

Asher followed her over to the next aisle, where they checked out the cereal. Asher bit his lip. “I usually just have a granola bar with breakfast.”

“What kind of granola bars?” Jenna asked.

“Whatever’s on sale.”

She smiled and placed a hand on his arm. “Okay, well, how about this—I have an amazing recipe for homemade granola bars. I swear, once you get Jenna-granola, you don’t go back. I can make them and bring them over, okay?”

“Really?” Asher said, a huge grin on his face.

“Sure. They’re easy, and I’m running low.”

Asher turned to Cal. “She makes her own granola bars.”

“I heard, kid.”

C
AL FOLLOWED BEHIND
Jenna and Asher, watching as they discussed groceries and as his cart filled with food he wasn’t sure he’d ever bought in his life. They were in the dairy aisle, talking about yogurt, and he wandered over to the pharmacy.

Asher had frowned at Cal’s cigarettes this morning, and while the kid didn’t say anything, the dislike was clear on his face. Jenna’s “They’ll kill you” echoed in his head on repeat. His relationship with cigarettes was long and uncomplicated. They were like a best friend in a way, one that was always there and soothed his nerves. And all they asked for in return was a couple years off of his life.

No big deal.

He picked up a brand of nicotine patches hanging above a shelf. He read the label:
To increase your success in quitting, you must be motivated to quit.

Was he? They sure made him feel good. Brent was so used to his smoking that he hadn’t said much when Cal headed out on their balcony to light up. But Asher didn’t need to be around it, for the smell to seep into his hair and clothes.

So Cal threw the patch in the cart, and then grabbed the next patch in the plan, and then the next. And he felt like crying a little as he broke up with a best friend.

Good ol’ Nico Nicotine. “It was good while it lasted,” he mumbled to himself.

By the time they headed to checkout, Cal’s only contribution to his own household’s food was to add some more bags of frozen vegetables.

He’d tried to throw in some frozen meals, because the microwave was his best friend, but Jenna had shut that down. “Wow, you really are a dude,” Jenna said, blinking at him.

“Why do you two keep saying that?” he asked. As they began laughing together, he added, “What the hell am I supposed to be?”

That made them laugh harder. He pushed the cart away, muttering under his breath about how he’d never participate in group grocery shopping again.

Out in the parking lot, he looked around, hoping to help Jenna load her groceries, but he didn’t see her car.

So he drove home, Asher talking excitedly in the passenger seat about the steaks Jenna had picked out for the dinner she wouldn’t even be at. And Cal wondered, not for the first time, what the hell he was doing.

B
EING THE RESPONSIBLE
one again was an odd fit. It was like pulling on a leather coat after it had sat in a closet all summer. The fabric was a little stiff on his skin but after a while, it warmed up, and he remembered how comfortable it all was.

Asher seemed like a decent kid. He had a little bit of a stubborn, defiant streak in him, Cal could tell. Stubbornness ran in the family, so that wasn’t a surprise.

Every time Cal thought about Asher’s father driving drunk with him in the car and his mother not sticking up for the safety of her child, Cal wanted to rage. But he kept a lid on it and instead, sorted the groceries with the kid.

He showed Asher his TV and the video game system he never used. Cal had pitiful games for it, and Asher teased him.

Cal stood out on his back deck, jonesing for a cigarette and scratching at the patch on his arm. He had to figure out what to
do
with Asher now. He didn’t know how long he’d be here, and Cal didn’t want him sitting around getting bored. Because bored teenagers got into trouble or got themselves hurt, and that wasn’t happening on Cal’s watch.

He heard a knock at the door through the screen he’d left open. When he walked into the house, Asher stood in the kitchen, bouncing on the balls of his feet, nearly vibrating.

Max was still in town, staying with their dad, so he’d been able to come by with Brent.

It’d been a dick move not to tell them about Asher when he invited them over. It was only fair, though; Cal hadn’t gotten a warning, so his brothers wouldn’t either.

Cal clapped Asher on the shoulder as he walked by on his way to the door. “Relax. I’m the scariest one, and you’ve met me already.”

He opened up the door, and Brent rushed in ahead of Max. “If this surprise isn’t a stripper, I’m going to be super-disappointed.”

Max’s eyes went wide. “Stripper?”

“For fuck’s sake,” Cal said. “There’s no stripper.” He held out his arm in the direction of Asher, who stood in the living room with huge eyes. “There’s your brother.”

Brent stopped abruptly, so Max slammed into his back. “What the—”

“Brother?” Brent said hollowly, staring at Asher.

“Brother?” Max echoed, peeking out from behind Brent.

“Brother,” Asher confirmed in a shaky voice. “Well . . . half-brother.”

Cal stood next to Asher. “Turns out Mom had another kid.”

There was no sound. Nothing.

Brent’s eyes had gone a little hard, and Max’s face was blank. Asher began to tremble, and Cal knew he had to be the example. He was the big brother, and the younger guys had always followed his lead. He didn’t always guide them the right way, but he knew he could in this situation.

He slung his arm around Asher’s shoulders and faced Brent and Max. “Quit standing there holding your dicks and say hello, numb-nuts.”

Nobody moved for a good ten seconds. Then Brent jolted out of his stupor and strode toward Asher. He grabbed Asher’s face with both hands and held his gaze. “Fuck me; he’s got Max’s eyes.” He looked over his shoulder. “Look at this—you actually look related to someone now.”

“Fuck you! We look related!” Max shot back, but there was no heat in his words. Brent stepped back, and Max held out his hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m Max.”

The kid shook it. “I’m Asher.”

“Asher, huh?” Brent asked. “Why didn’t I get a cool name like that? I always wanted to be, like, Jackson or Gage or something.”

“Will you shut up?” Cal said.

Max ignored both of them. “So how did you find us?”

Asher opened his mouth and then looked up at Cal, clearly wanting him to make the explanations. He didn’t want to put the kid through it again, so Cal explained, in as few words as possible, that Asher had an asshole father, and he was staying at Cal’s temporarily.

Brent’s face was red. “And your mom didn’t do anything about it? What the fuck is wrong with that woman?”

Max bit his lip, his eyes sad. “That’s horrible, Ash. I’m sorry. Damn, Dad’s a total dick, but he’s never done something like that.”

Cal didn’t miss the nickname, and he also didn’t miss the way the tenseness had begun to leave Asher’s body.

“I didn’t know what to do,” Asher said quietly. “Mom talked about you guys sometimes. I always wanted to meet you, but she put me off every year. I assumed I wouldn’t be able to see you until I could drive or until I turned eighteen or something.”

“Christ,” Brent muttered under his breath, turning away to rub his forehead.

It was a cluster-fuck, Cal knew that, but he’d held them all together before when shit hit the fan. He’d do it again. “I have some steaks, so how about I grill ’em up, and we all sit down and eat together, yeah?”

Max nodded, his eyes on Asher. Max was a teacher now, so Cal thought he’d be one of the best to know how to deal with a teenager. “Ash is complaining about my video game selection, Max. Maybe you two can talk about what’s popular now.”

Max led Asher away toward the video games, their heads bent together, talking softly. Asher looked at Cal from over his shoulder, and Cal nodded. Ash smiled and continued to talk with Max.

Cal took a deep breath and walked into the kitchen, Brent hot on his heels.

“What the fuck, fuck, fuck?” Brent chanted under his breath. “Dad is going to lose his ever-loving mind.”

Cal opened the refrigerator and grabbed the package of steaks. He dropped it on the counter and began to unwrap them. “I know.”

“Like, in the looney bin after a heart-attack-slash-stroke kind of thing.”

With the steaks on a plate, Cal grated pepper over the top of them. “I know.”

“Like, lose-the-function-of-one-side-of-his-body kind of stroke.”

Now that the steaks were seasoned, Cal grabbed a pair of tongs and walked out to his deck.

Brent, of course, followed. “So he came here? Not a friend’s house?”

Cal had already preheated the grill, so he opened up the lid and began tossing the steaks on. “They just moved from California. He said he doesn’t know anyone.”

“How’d he get here?”

“Bus.”

“Damn,” Brent said, leaning on the railing with his arms crossed over his chest. “That’s committed.” He furrowed his brow as Cal lowered the lid of the grill, the steaks sizzling inside. “And not safe, man. He’s sixteen?”

“Yup.”

“Not safe at all to travel by bus by himself. You wouldn’t even let me ride in Sam’s truck until he’d been driving two years, remember?”

Sam had been a friend of Brent’s in high school. “Yeah, I remember. Damn kid was a maniac. And I was right too. He totaled that truck after six months and broke his arm.”

Brent chewed his lip. “Yeah, you were right.”

“And I know it wasn’t safe for him to the ride the bus alone, but can’t do anything about it now. He’s here, and I’ll make sure he’s okay.”

Cal made to walk past Brent, but his brother shot out his arm and grabbed his bicep. “Hey.”

Cal kept his eyes on the window of the back door, looking at Max and Asher sitting on the couch together inside.

“If anyone can take care of that kid, it’s you,” Brent said quietly. There was no joke behind his words. No smirk. “You dragged Max and me out of the muck, and you can do it with Asher.”

Cal closed his eyes and let Brent’s words sink in. He didn’t want them to. But his tone slipped in all his cracks and plunged right into Cal’s heart.

“I know that Max and I don’t tell you enough that we appreciate what you did. But we do. And Asher is going to appreciate it too.”

Cal didn’t want that to make his heart beat faster, to make his skin warm. He wanted to resent Brent and Max. And then Asher, for putting him through this again. But he couldn’t resent them. Because he’d do it all over again in a heartbeat. Seeing Max happy and hearing Brent’s awful singing and bad jokes always reminded him that every sacrifice was worth it.