Be My Baby Page 4

  The woman nodded, bundling the boy close into her side. “That’s fine. Thank you so much.”

  Nodding, Jared closed their door and hurried around the back to his side.

  Calla’s car was parked in her usual spot when Jared drove by. There was a mountain of snow around it, but it was there. Safe.

  He exhaled what felt like his first breath in hours.

  “I guess she made it,” Lily murmured quietly from the seat behind him.

  “Yeah,” he said, turning the truck around. “She’s okay.”

  He drove Julianne and Landon home first; their house was up the street from Calla’s.

  “Thank you again,” she said for the hundredth time. “I can’t say it enough.”

  With the ominous visions of Calla hurt gone from his mind, Jared could actually focus. He gave Julianne his name and number.

  “Call me if you need anything,” he told her.

  Julianne thanked him … again, and propelled Landon out of the car.

  Jared watched them sprint up the path to the little, dark house nestled behind a giant oak tree. He waited until the front door had shut behind them before turning the truck around and driving Lily home.

  “That was really kind of you,” Lily said. “Helping those two.”

  The compliment puzzled him. His gaze flicked for only a split second to the rearview mirror and the pale woman sitting behind his seat.

  “I couldn’t leave them out there.”

  Lily shrugged and gave a nod. “No, but most would have.”

  Saying nothing, Jared focused on the road.

  Sloan stood on the steps when Jared pulled into the driveway. He was bundled up against the elements and looked like he was prepared to head out. At the sight of Jared’s truck, he descended the steps and stalked over.

  “Thank you, Jared,” Lily said, gathering up her things and pushing the back door open before Jared, or Sloan, could.

  “I was just on my way to get you!” Sloan shouted over the shrieking winds.

  He took his wife’s hand and gently helped her down before slamming the door shut. With his free hand, he waved to Jared in thanks before leading Lily inside.

  At last, it was just him and the brunette in the seat next to him. Denise must have sensed what was coming, because she was unusually quiet through most of the drive. While she wasn’t usually a chatterbox, she had a need to fill silent spaces, even if it was with music, or just the shift of her body in the seat. Jared didn’t mind the silence. It helped him think, so he was almost grateful for the lull.

  Pulling into the snow covered driveway, he cut the engine. Denise continued to say nothing as he climbed out and rounded the front of the truck to her side. He gave her his hand, but she grabbed the handle bar on the side instead. He didn’t comment on it. Instead, he led her with a gentle hand on her lower back towards the door.

  On the porch, she fidgeted with her keys. There were only three on the ring and her house one was the one with a rubber grip. She was stalling.

  “Want to come in?” It was said reluctantly.

  “Please.”

  The last time he’d been in her house, it was to move her stuff in. He hadn’t been there since. It was clean, neatly organized in shades of pale blue and white. The furniture was all wicker padded by various cushions and pillows. It reminded him of a single story beach house. The only thing missing was the sand across the floor and seashells everywhere. There was a narrow hallway with what looked like three doors at the end, which he assumed were the bedroom and bathroom. Possibly a closet, or a guestroom. It didn’t matter. He wasn’t there to redecorate the place.

  Denise left him to pick his way around and headed into the kitchen tucked on the other side of the sitting area. A counter with a window separated the two. He could see her puttering around, putting together a pot of coffee.

  “Want coffee?” she called out to him.

  Jared crossed to stand in the kitchen doorway and watch her. He must have taken too long to respond, because she set the coffee pot down and turned to him, her face drawn.

  “This is it, huh?”

  He didn’t ask her how she knew. He nodded.

  Her throat muscles constricted with her swallow. Her gaze dropped to the floor between them.

  “It’s her, isn’t it?”

  Again, he didn’t insult her intelligence by asking who, or how she knew.

  “No.”

  A muscle bunched in her jaw, but she raised her face to meet his eyes. “Why then? Was it something I did?”

  “No,” he said again. “It’s not you at all. I thought I would be able to let go and move on, but I can’t and I can’t keep seeing you when I know I will never be the man you deserve.”

  “So, it is her.” It wasn’t a question. “You love her.”

  Jared sighed heavily. “Yeah.”

  Denise chuckled humorlessly. “I knew you did, even before you asked me to dinner the first time. I just thought that since you were asking that maybe…” She bit the inside of her lips. “Does she love you back?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Well, she’d be a damn fool if she didn’t.” She offered him a small smile. “You’re a great guy, Jared Dumont. Any girl would be lucky to have you. I’m just sorry that girl wasn’t me.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  She waved his apology aside with a wave of her hand. “I knew this wouldn’t last. It was fun and lord knows I wanted it to, but I’m realistic. You were never mine. You always belonged to her. I was just … keeping you warm.” She chuckled. “Granted, not sure how good of a job I did.”

  “You were wonderful,” he assured her, meaning it. “It was never my intention to hurt you.”

  “Truthfully?” She turned back to the coffee pot and held it under the faucet. “Keeping this going while you still wanted her would have hurt me a whole lot more. But that doesn’t mean I won’t swoop in if she doesn’t smarten up.” She slanted him a lopsided grin from over her shoulder. “Men like you don’t grow on trees.”

  It was his turn to chuckle, though he didn’t feel it. “I’m sorry anyway.”

  Her smile slipped. She shrugged. “Yeah, me too.” The pot was shoved under the machine and the red light was activated. She turned to him. “Take care, all right? And if you go to the Cho wedding this weekend, save me a dance?”

  He nodded. “Count on it.”

  With a wave, he walked out, feeling marginally lighter. He climbed back into his truck and headed home. He was just stomping up the steps to his apartment when his phone chimed deep in the folds of his jacket. It took some digging and cursing to finally unearth the device and check the text massage.

  “Hey.” Was all it said.

  Jared juggled his keys slightly to better grip his phone and typed back, “Hey.”

  It took Damon about a minute to respond. “Shit weather, eh?”

  “Yeah.” He paused to let himself into his apartment before returning to his message. “What are you doing?”

  “Chilling w/Willa. U? Still on ur date?”

  Working quickly, he discarded his jacket over the back of the sofa and abandoned his boots on the mat before shuffling his way into the bedroom.

  “Broke up with Denise.”

  The response was almost instantaneous in the form of the phone buzzing to life in the palm of his hand. Damon’s sour face, barely concealed by dark sunglasses, giving Jared the middle finger shimmered across the screen. He hit talk.

  “Yeah?”

  “What happened?”

  It took Jared a minute longer to think of that answer. “Just not right.” Something was echoing in the background. The inconsistent bangs reminded him of gunfire. “What are you guys watching?”

  “Goonies.”

  Jared snickered. “Willa picked?”

  “Doesn’t she always?” there was an oomph where Jared suspected Willa had elbowed Damon.

  “I like this movie,” she grumbled, and she was loud enough so that Jared susp
ected he was on speaker phone, and that she was very close.

  He had a familiar image of the two curled up on Damon’s bed and wondered, not for the first time, how Damon managed to keep his hands—and boner—to himself. He knew for a fact the pair had never slept together, and he knew Damon hadn’t slept with anyone else, not even once and yet, unlike most boys who struggled the first half of their lives to lose their virginities as fast as possible, Damon seemed in no hurry. Jared knew he had no patience like that. He’d lost his virginity to Sandy Carson when they’d both been fifteen. Sure, he could count on one hand the number of girls he’d been with since, but Damon didn’t even have that. Jared didn’t know whether to be impressed, or a little disturbed.

  It wasn’t as though Damon never had admirers. There had never been a shortage of girls in school just waiting to catch Damon Comb’s broody attention. The same went for Willa. There were always boys vying for a minute of her time. But neither ever seemed to notice. It was as though the whole world ceased to exist to them. Jared remembered being in high school and standing in the crowded hall with Damon, waiting for Calla and Willa to meet them. Girls would be everywhere, flocking past in a parade of beautiful smiles and flirtatious eyes. Some would even call Damon and he’d nod in their direction, then he’d return to seeing through them all. Until Willa came into view, and Damon always knew when she would. It was as though he had a sixth sense for her. His head would turn in her direction before she even rounded the corner. It always creeped Jared out.

  “Jared?”

  Jared blinked and focused on the phone again. “Yeah?”

  “Mom says don’t worry about driving her to get her car tomorrow,” Willa said. “Dad’s going to get it in the morning.”

  Jared nodded. “Okay.”

  “Hey, you coming tomorrow night?”

  Jared never said no, not because he couldn’t, but because there was never a good enough reason not to go. Sunday night dinners with the McClain’s were almost a tradition at that point. He’d been doing it since he was a kid. It got to the point where his own parents stopped asking him over to their after church dinners. In the beginning, it was because of Damon. Then it was about Calla. And it still was.

  “You should bring Denise,” Willa advised.

  “They broke up,” he heard Damon murmur.

  “Oh! Aw, I’m sorry, Jared. You okay?”

  Jared sat on the end of his bed and stared out his bedroom window at the wall of black painting the glass. The snow had slowed to a simmering rage. The wind was no longer slamming itself against the side of the house like it had something to prove.

  “Yeah, fine,” he said absently into the phone. “It just wasn’t working out.”

  “Why?”

  Jared hesitated, not because he was worried about what they would say, but because it would be the first time he’d voice the truth out loud.

  “I’m in love with your pigheaded sister.”

  Willa was quiet for a second before murmuring, “I’m sorry.” She sighed softly. “Don’t let her bring you down. It’s not you, or her. She’s just … Calla. She hasn’t been the same since she got back from school.”

  No, she wasn’t. He had no idea what had happened to her in the two years she was gone, but neither did anyone else.

  “She still hasn’t told you?” he asked.

  Willa sighed again. “No, I don’t really want to push either. She always gets really sad when I bring it up. I figure she’ll tell me when she’s ready.” She paused for a moment. “Jared?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Don’t give up on her.”

  Despite himself, Jared chuckled humorlessly. “I don’t think that’s possible.”

  “Good. I know she won’t admit it, but she really needs someone like you.”

  He blinked. “Me?”

  “Someone who knew her before. Someone willing to bring that side of her back, even if they have to push through her defenses.” She hesitated again, this time longer. When she spoke, her voice was rushed and tense, like she was divulging things she shouldn’t be. “She loves you, too.”

  Jared?” she whispered when it took his brain too long to untangle itself from the excited mess his heart was making in his chest.

  “I’m here.”

  “Don’t tell her I told you,” she pleaded. “She’d kill me, or worse, she’d hate me.”

  “I won’t,” he mumbled, feeling slightly dazed.

  He had always known Calla wanted him the way a woman wanted a man. He had always suspected she might even care for him. But it had never crossed his mind that she might love him. That fact changed everything.

  Chapter Three ~ Calla

  Sundays had always been Calla’s favorite day of the week. Even as a sullen teenager who claimed the whole world was against her, she looked forward to spending the entire day with the people she loved. After starting university, that need to be home had been at its worst. The weekends she couldn’t make it back had been torture. And when she did, leaving had been hell. Then that had changed for what she had thought was for the better. God, she had been so stupid.

  “Calla?”

  Sucking in a breath, Calla focused on her mother’s face. “Yeah?”

  They stood around the kitchen island in her father’s home. Most gatherings were held there, simply because it was bigger and could accommodate the number of people their family had accumulated over the years. Her dad and Beth had redone most of the kitchen so it was large enough for free movement. The living room was done up the same to hold two whole sofas plus plenty of chairs, more than any other house Calla had ever seen. Most of the upstairs was left untouched, but the basement was renovated a few years back. The concrete walls and floors were insulated and boarded up. It was now fully furnished, which worked out great for her dad since he spent the majority of his time toying with computers down there.

  Unlike her Uncle Sloan, her dad wasn’t a manual labor sort of guy. He got crabby just rearranging the furniture around the house, never mind moving other people’s stuff. He just had no patience for it. He was the sit and tinker sort. It was why his in-home repair and installation business had practically boomed since opening fifteen years ago. It was the only place where the people of Willow Creek could go to get their electronic devices fixed and updated that was affordable and nearby.

  Toby was more like their father. While no one expected him to know what he wanted to do after he left school, at twelve he was already showing great promise in computers, which delighted the hell out of their dad.

  “Calla!” Her mother was shouting now, like Calla was across the country and not one marble counter away from her.

  “What?” Calla snapped back without meaning to. She grimaced and tried again. “Sorry?”

  They stood like a trio of witches around the kitchen island with Beth on Calla’s right, studiously dicing tomatoes, and Calla’s mother straight across. Usually Calla was all ears when it came to talk of business, but her mind had slowed to a snail’s pace, refusing to do more than grasp the simplest snippets.

  “Beth was just telling us about the website your dad put together for the shop,” she said very slowly, like Calla was hard of hearing. “He wants us to approve it before he makes it live.”

  “Oh.” Calla nodded. “Great. Can’t wait to see it.”

  Her mom narrowed her eyes. “Uh huh.” She held out a block of cheese. “You’re in charge of grating.”

  “Oh. Right.”

  Calla took the cheese and grater and dutifully rubbed one against the other, creating a small shredded pile in a bowl.

  “Where’s Willa?” her mother muttered, glancing towards the open doorway.

  “Probably up in Damon’s room,” Beth replied, scooping the diced bits of tomato into a small bowl. “That seems to be their secret hiding place whenever they’re over here.”

  “Well, she was supposed to quarter the chicken,” Lily McClain grumbled, wiping her hands on her apron. “I’ll go get her.”

>   Alone with Beth, Calla concentrated on shredding cheese.

  “Everything okay, Cal?”

  Her default smile worked around her mouth without her thinking about it. “Yeah. Fine.”

  Beth eyed her. Calla didn’t look up to see it, but she could feel the scrutinizing once over.

  Like Sloan, Beth was a second parental figure to Calla. A second mom. She had helped raise Calla and Willa since they were babies. The fact that her husband shared a child with another woman never fazed her, as far as Calla knew. If it did, she never let that stop her from loving Calla like her own. If there was anyone Calla wanted for her dad, it was Beth. She completed him. She completed the whole family. Plus she was one-half responsible for Toby and Calla adored that boy.

  The whole dynamics of the McClain clan was a complicated one to understand unless a person was a part of it. It made sense to Calla, but only because she was raised with the knowledge that Cole was her father. Lily was her mother. Willa and Toby were her siblings. Then there was Damon. Her father and Beth had adopted him into their family despite Calla’s protest. She never called him her brother. He was always just Damon, or Willa’s Damon as most everyone knew him. Even the town. It had started as a joke that caught on and stayed. Damon never seemed to mind.

  But like everything else, that too was accepted. There was no blood between Damon and the McClain gang. He was the scrawny, severely abused six year old her father had brought home one day. Everyone knew his story, knew where he’d came from and who he was. But despite everything, Willa had claimed him as hers. He never fought it. Even as children, he chose Willa over his friends, over going out, over every other girl. Love like that made all other love seem insignificant and false. But that was the thing about her family, Calla realized. They had the capability of a love too strong to be real. Her parents were the perfect example.

  Cole, Calla’s father, grew up with her mother. They’d been best friends their entire lives. Sloan was Cole’s older brother and the man her mother had always loved. Thinking he could never possibly love her back, her mother had made a pact with Cole to lose their virginities together, which resulted in the conception of Calla. In the end, Sloan and Lily got married and had Willa. Beth and Cole got married and had Toby. And together their family was made.