Baby Did a Bad Bad Thing (Hautboy Series Book 3) (10 page)

BOOK: Baby Did a Bad Bad Thing (Hautboy Series Book 3)
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“Tate Watkins’ wife was a patient at the hospital.”  I’d already told her this, of course.

“I know that,” Mom tutted.  “I want to hear it from Jake.  You’re frugal with your details.”

“She certainly turns heads, ma’am.”

Mom smiled indulgently.  “It’s that violet hair.  Always was her favorite color.”

My favorite color was red.

“To be honest, it has nothing to do with her hair.  She’s beautiful regardless.”  Piper and Perry, the two youngest, broke down into giggles.  Jake winked at them.

“What an effing player,” I heard Peter say under his breath.  I kicked him indiscreetly under the table.  “What?  You’re not actually buying any of his bullshit, are you?”

“Shut up, Peter.”

“Just saying—he completely avoided you the other day.”

“We’re not dating,” I told my mother, placing Jake’s plate in front of him.  Peter, I would deal with later.  The more I argued, the more he’d make a scene.  “He came to see me about the job.  Can you please stop with the questions?”

“Paisley,” Mom scolded.  Her hand hovered around her face, deflecting my comment like I’d spouted blasphemy.

“She’s right, ma’am,” Jake intervened.  “We’re in agreement on that.  While she’s under Tate’s employment, it would be safer if we didn’t see each other personally.  I wouldn’t want any disagreements between us to jeopardize her job.”

“I don’t think that you have much of a choice.  It’s not as though you can control whom you’re attracted to or whom you fall in love with.  You try ignoring that sort of thing and fate will make an utter fool of you.”

Whatever Jake had in his mouth, lodged in his throat, marking my mother’s words.  If you asked me, fate didn’t have anything to do with it.  It was sheer stupidity for coming here in the first place.

Chapter 9
 

I
pulled up in front of the Watkins’ Family Mansion as I liked to call it, not so far that they’d see me, but so I could sit and collect myself one last time before going inside and facing Him.  Already, I could feel my pits starting to sweat.  I needed to find a nice safe dweeb like Henry, but an ugly nerdy dweeb that would worship the ground I walked on.  He would feed me bonbons while I lounged on the beach in Belize, and never look at another woman.

Hey, it was my pipe dream.

No, I fell for Him.  Jake Whalen.  He was a musician for a world famous rock band.  Shit like this didn’t happen to nobodies like me.  The only thing I had going for me was my violet hair, and a desperate need to fuck someone that wasn’t Henry.  I should’ve stuck with Cade.

Cade the Cock wouldn’t have shown up on my doorstep.  He wouldn’t have stood five feet in front of me, while giving me ten thousand reasons why we couldn’t date.  The sight of him wouldn’t tease me with memories of the past, and dreams of a future.  So what if my future was filled with leather crops and silk scarves.  I was entitled to whatever eccentricities I secretly desired.

Catching my attention, my new phone buzzed, crawling across the passenger seat.  It was a gift from Cooper and Tate, a blatant bribe to take the job.  I knew because there was a note taped to the box that said it was standard issue for all Hautboy employees.  Coop went on to add that if I decided not to take the job, I had to return it in person so she could persuade me otherwise.


It’s safe to come in
,” the message read, “
Jake’s not here yet
.”

Well fuckity fuck fuck.  I wasn’t fooling anyone.

Sliding my foot off the brake, I turned into the driveway.  The gates were already swinging open.  God, they must’ve had cameras everywhere.  Cooper’s ex must’ve been a total nutcase.

I supposed I should count my blessings that my life wasn’t that dramatic.

As with the last time, Marshall met me at the end of the driveway.  The two large puppies—if you could call them that—trotted exuberantly at his side.  They seemed so well behaved this time that when I stepped out of my car, I wasn’t expecting them to tackle me.

They were all legs and tongue.  I managed to block most of their advances.

Though muffled, I could hear Carter’s laughter from somewhere not far away.  He reminded me of Peter, always laughing at someone else's expense.

“You alright?” Marshall asked, pulling the slightly larger of the two from my right leg.  God, I think he was humping me.  “Fuckin’ pervert.”

My eyebrows shot up my forehead.  “Excuse me?”

“The dog,” Marshall explained.  “I don’t care what they say about it being a dominance thing.  He humped the kid’s bouncy horse this morning.  You know—those things on the big metal coils—bounces back and forth?”

“Lovely.  How did you get stuck with dog duty?”

“Nah, I like them alright.  They’re like Em’s kids, which makes me their uncle, or beta…something like that.  For the most part, they listen to me.”

“Might be that you have the voice of Zeus.”  He had a deep voice, proportioned to his body.  Every time I laid eyes on the man, I was astounded by his size.  Juxtapose, his personality was an oxymoron.

“I’d like to take the wrath of God out on them at times.”  So he said, but he looked upon them with affection.  “But they’re like babies with tails and big, sad eyes.”  Unashamed, he shrugged.  “What can I say—I’m a sucker.”

“One born every minute.”

Marshall’s smile fell.  He glanced behind me.  “Coop’s waiting for you inside.  I’ll hold these guys off so they don’t jump all over you.”

“Thanks,” I said absently, glancing over my shoulder.  A large burgundy pickup truck rolled to a stop beside my car.  The hairs on my nape stood on end, my gut telling me it could be only one person.

Fuck it.  I wasn’t running away.  Not anymore.

Turning back to Marshall, I asked, “Will they be here often?”  I pointed to the dogs.  “The dogs, I mean.”  In my periphery, Carter and Tate both came out the front door and headed in our direction.

“Likely,” Marshall answered.  “Shane will be bringing them with him while he’s in the studio and Em is at the restaurant.  Why?  Are you scared of them?  They wouldn’t hurt a fly.  Swear.”

“Not scared, but I might be able to use a few pointers.  Commands or whatever.  So they don’t knock Levy down, or me for that matter.”

“You never had a dog?”

“No.”  In no way did my mother find raising thirteen children an imposition, but having a dog in the house was out of the question.

“You don’t know what you’re missing.”

“I can imagine.”  The larger of the two—and obviously male—was licking his genitalia which was not the most attractive appendage.  God, I’d never seen a dog penis before.  I could’ve gone longer without ever having seen one.

“If I could bend like that, I’d be the happiest man in the world,” said Carter Strickland.  He stopped just to my right.  Jake approached to my left.  Tate stood beside Marshall.

My nose scrunched in disgust.  “Ew.”

“Oh, come on,” Carter scoffed.  “You’ve seen worse.”

“I’m seeing worse now.”  The female of the two had now taken interest in what her littermate was so absorbed in, and joined him.

Unlike myself, the four men hooted with laughter, praising the dog for her group effort.  Dear God.

“I think she just gave him a little shell shock,” Carter observed.  “Yup, he’s done.  There it goes.  Mr. Pinky’s gone, Violet.  You can look again.”

I let my eyes roll back down from the top of my head.  “Disgusting.”

“You know what it reminds me of?” Carter reflected.  “A lipstick!  You know—the way it goes in and out.”

“Oh.  My.  God.”  I shook my head, dispelling the thought and more precisely, the image.  “I’m never going to use lipstick again.  Ever.  I’m ruined.”

“You watched a doctor pop a humongous zit on some fat guy’s back, and you’re grossed out over a dog penis?”

“I didn’t associate the abscess with anything I was going to rub on my lips!  Now, I’ll forever think of a dog penis while trying to put some gloss on!”  Naturally, they laughed harder, including Jake.

I supposed he looked more at ease since we’d defined our relationship.  By that, I mean there was no relationship.  His whole little visit left me a little baffled, but in the end he’d accomplished what Tate had sent him to do.  I’d taken the job, despite that being near him was comparable to having underwear crawling up my ass crack.  I couldn’t ignore it, but I couldn’t bear it, either.

“I’m just teasing you, Violet.  No need to look so miserable.”  Carter chucked me on the shoulder, and I stumbled sideways.  I used Marshall’s thick arm to steady myself.

“Geez, Carter, you’re just like the eleventh brother I never wanted.”

“So where’re your bags?” Tate inquired.  He aimed his thumb in the direction of the house.  “We’ll help you carry ‘em in.”

“He wants to make sure you’re sticking around,” Carter expounded.  “He’s gonna hold your bags hostage so you don’t hotfoot it out of here again.”

“‘Cause you don’t think sending
him
to my house to do your browbeating was enough,” I said to Tate, gesturing to Jake with a jerk of my chin.  “I’m here, aren’t I?

Tate looked at me with confusion.

My stomach bottomed out.

Lord.

Tate
hadn’t
sent him.

“Dude,” Carter sneered at Jake, “you’re breaking the rules left and right.  What the fuck?”  Clearly pissed, he folded his arms across his chest, his brows forming a small ridge above his eyes.

“Fuck off, Carter.  She needed the job.  I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t standing in her way of taking it.  Besides, I couldn’t find a delivery service to deliver Tate’s fucking cell phone.  It was Easter Sunday.”  Refusing to even look in my direction, Jake stalked off toward the house.

Trying to compartmentalize the slew of thoughts racing through my head, I pulled my keys from my purse.  Tate’s mouth popped open.  I was quick to allay his fears.  I wasn’t running away.  Fuck Jake Whalen.  “You were going to help me with my bags.”

“Hey, I’m really sorry about that.  I would’ve had someone else do it, but Jake was the only one free.  I didn’t think, in a million years, he’d drive it there himself.”

“It’s fine.  Just do me a favor, and don’t harass him about it.  He’s telling the truth.  He only came over to make sure I’d take the job.”  Tate didn’t need to know Jake had kissed me.  It hadn’t meant anything.  Maybe he just liked the chase, and I was playing hard to get.  He was into kink, after all.  My rejection had likely played into his fantasies.

“Yeah, but that’s our privilege as friends,” Carter argued.  “We get to call bullshit when we smell bullshit, and he’s knee deep in it.”  Carter strode off, mumbling angrily.  “Fucking hypocrite, preaching about rules...
fuck
your rules…”

I was really regretting tossing Henry’s scrubs in the laundry chute.  At the hospital, at least I’d have several thousand staff and patients separating us.  Here, I had no buffer.

“I’ll get your bags,” Marshall said, taking my keys from my hand.  He looked at Tate before heading for my car.  “You better get inside and mediate before they start beating on one another again.”

Tate stole a glance in my direction, measuring my expression.  “It doesn’t have anything to do with you.  You’re just the excuse.  Carter’s been down everyone’s throats lately.”

“So he’s naturally abrasive?”

“He’s a good guy.”  Mid turn, he gestured for me to follow him.  I glanced at Marshall, who was wrestling my bags from the trunk of my car.  I hadn’t packed light, but he looked up and winked.  I trotted to catch up to Tate.  “He’s a good guy,” Tate repeated, “but if he gets on your case, tell him to—”

“Fuck off.”

Tate belted out a laugh.  “I don’t know if that’s good or bad that you know that already.”

“Em apprised me on how to handle him.”

“I’m surprised Em didn’t tell you to bunt him with a baseball bat.”

“They don’t get along, I take it.”

“She’s angry with him.”

I didn’t ask why, and he didn’t offer an explanation.  That was Em’s business.  I wasn’t in the position to ask questions of a personal nature.  I was here to work.  I had to remind myself of that so that I didn’t get caught up in my curiosity driven desire to know them as people.

Tate threw open the front door.  I stepped through and stood aside while he closed it behind him.  “My dad has Levi out.  That’ll give you time to talk with Coop alone.  She can go over Levi’s schedule and whatnot.”

“How did her appointment go?”

“Activity restriction,” was his answer, with a shake of his head.  I looked up just in time to see Cooper waddling out of the kitchen.  She wore a guilty smirk, looking up from under her lashes.  The exchange said a thousand words.  I felt intrusive witnessing it.

“I’m allowed,” Coop argued.  “They said I was allowed to use the stairs as long as it wasn’t an athletic marathon.  If it makes you feel any better, I won’t go back up until tonight.”

He could’ve argued.  He could’ve denied the accusations that flashed across his face, but he evaded the subject instead.  “It’s good to see you out of bed.”

“I was out of bed yesterday,” Coop pointed out.

“You’re glowing today,” Tate replied.

“I wasn’t glowing yesterday?” Coop countered.

“You were…
worried
yesterday,” Tate explained.

“I was on bedrest yesterday,” Coop argued.

With each retort, they drew closer together.  I could practically feel the magnetic attraction between them.  It was palpable and fucking engulfing.  I was envious.  Henry and I had barely said a word to each other on our best of days.

“Jesus H Christ,” Carter complained, dragging me from my lament.  “They’re either going to fornicate right here in the hall or they’re going to break out in a rendition of Grease.”  Pausing beside me, Carter polished off the last of a beer.  “They’ve been known to do that, you know.”

“Fornicate in the hall?”

“Baha!” I earned an elbow in the ribs for that one.  “Break out in a rendition of Grease, Violet.”

“Isn’t it kinda early for that?”  I pointed at the empty beer bottle in his hand.  Carter looked at it and shrugged.

“Not if you haven’t gone to bed yet.”

Behind me, the front door opened with a bang.  Marshall stumbled in with my bags.  Obviously struggling, he readjusted his grip and looked up.  “Why don’t ya give me a hand, Strickland?”

“With those?” Carter declined.  “You can’t handle a few knapsacks?”

“Nah, she’s got a fuckin’ steamer trunk on the stoop.”

Carter laughed in disbelief.  “He’s joking, right?”

I hid a smile.  “What can I say—I love shoes.”

“She’s showing you up, Emelia,” said Shane, coming through the door.  Em was a stride behind him.  Their hands were linked.  “We went to the shoe capital of the world and you didn’t come home with that many pairs.”

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