Tangled Hearts (Passion in Paradise) (19 page)

“You’re right.  Bully
isn’t the right word.  You’re more of a steamroller.”

“Oh, yeah, you two are
a match made in heaven,” Zeke muttered under his breath.

“We would be if she’d
quit trying to scare ten years off my life every time I turn around,” Cal
grumbled, having heard the amusement in Zeke’s tone.  Holding out his hand to
the other man, he continued, “Thanks for coming down, man.  Apparently, she’s
feeling a lot better if she can yell at me like a harpy.  The woman’s as
stubborn as a mule.”

“I’ve got my own
obstinate filly waiting for me at home,” Zeke said with an understanding nod. 
“I know exactly what you mean.”

“You know, I don’t
think Honor would be any more pleased than I am to be compared to animals in
the equestrian family,” Melody informed both men gravely, the warning clear in
her voice.

Zeke snorted. 
“Probably not, Miss Melody, but it doesn’t make it less true.  You two be
careful if you decide to address this with Mr. Weller or his family and call if
you need me.”

“Will do,” Cal agreed,
shaking the other man’s hand again.

Zeke tipped his hat
toward Melody and grinned.  “Always a pleasure, ma’am.  I’m glad you’re feeling
better.”

“Merry Christmas,
Sheriff,” Melody said with a half-smile before the other man sauntered out of
the room. 

Waiting until the other
man was gone, Cal turned to look at where Melody now sat up in the bed, her
legs folded up to her chest.  “I meant what I said, you know.  I think since I
met you, you’ve probably robbed me of a good twenty years of life, babe.  I
don’t like fear.  Even when I was on the frontlines in the trenches being shot
at, I never tasted terror like what I felt this afternoon.”  Everything he said
was true, too.  He’d faced down bomb laden insurgents that hadn’t scared him as
badly as she had. 

“Sorry,” Melody
apologized softly with a self-conscious wince.  “I should have told you about
my food allergy.”

“You think?” he asked
sarcastically.  “Are there any other innocuous things out there that could take
you from me?  Strawberries?  Shellfish?  Maybe a medication?”

“Nope, nothing like
that,” Melody denied as a woman in bright pink scrubs bustled into the room
carrying a sheath of papers.

“Miss Reardon?” the
woman asked as she glanced down at Melody’s chart.  “You ready to sign this
discharge paperwork and enjoy the rest of the holiday?”

Standing against the
wall, Cal watched the nurse go through the paperwork with his woman.  And
that’s what Melody was now, he silently thought. 
His
women.

His to care for.  His
to protect.  His to love.

His.

His. 

HIS.

“Callum!” he heard
Melody shout.  Jerking his eyes to hers, he distantly noted that they were now
alone again and she was dressed and standing beside the bed.  “What?  What’s
happening?”

“Jeez, he finally
speaks,” Melody replied, staring at him.  “For a second there, I thought you
might be having a stroke.  You don’t smell burnt toast, do you?” she asked,
slowly approaching him until she stood in front of him.

“No, but it wouldn’t
surprise me if I did.  Not kidding when I say, that you are quickly shaving
valuable years from my life.  Told you that earlier, babe,” he returned,
shrugging off the new jacket she’d given him as a gift only hours ago. 
Somehow, he’d thought to grab it in the mad dash to get her here.  Slipping it
around her shoulders now, he asked, “You ready, Princess?”

Melody nodded, letting
him slip her hand into his and guide her out of the ER cubicle, down the
corridor and out the sliding glass doors into the hospital parking lot.  She’d
been unconscious when they’d arrived so she was forced to let him drag her
through the lot to where he’d parked the truck.

Helping her inside, he
leaned against the seat as he cupped her jaw.  “I’ve got to get to the bottom
of this, Melody.  I swore to your brother that I’d keep you safe.  If either
Brad or any of his family deliberately sabotaged those damn cookies, I need to
know it.”

“I know,” she
acknowledged quietly… easily.

Too easily, he thought
suspiciously.  Stroking the flushed skin on her satiny soft cheek, he murmured,
“And you’re still determined to go with me?  Because I could drop you off at
the McKinnon house.  I’m sure Harmony and the rest of the sisters would love
the chance to visit with you.  This could go pretty late and I’d rather you
were somewhere where you could rest.”

“First, it’s
Christmas.  I’m not barging in on a McKinnon family Christmas and neither are
you.  Second, I slept for two hours.  I’m rested.  Third, I don’t trust you not
to try and force the answers you want out of people.  Consider me your
conscience.  I’ll keep you from doing something you might regret later.”

“Babe, I can assure you
that if I think any one of these fuckheads intentionally hurt you, I won’t
regret a single, fuckin’ thing I do to them,” Cal assured her sharply, his jaw
clenching. 

Reaching up, Melody
gripped his wrist with one hand.  “See, this is why you need me.  To keep you
calm.  Cal, regardless of whether somebody deliberately tried to hurt me, I’m
sitting right here with you.  Look at me,” she urged, waiting until he gave her
his eyes.  “I’m right here with you,” she reminded him softly.

“Damn right you are and
anybody foolish enough to think they can take you from me is asking for a world
of pain,” he growled before leaning forward to cover her mouth with his as he
tangled his fingers in her hair.  He kissed her hard and deep, imprinting her
taste on his soul while he took the solace he needed from her.  Finally,
breathing hard, he released her lips from his.  “You’re mine, Melody.  I
protect what’s mine.”

Melody’s lips
twitched.  “Okay, Tarzan.  Wanna beat your chest now and piss on me, too?”

“Don’t need to,” Cal
replied.  “I plan on putting my mark on you before the end of the night,” he
shared, bending his head to lightly bite the side of her neck.

“Dream on, Cowboy,” she
huffed, pushing him away with a hand at his chest.  “Well, if we’re going to
see Brad’s parents, let’s go.  I’d really like to get home by New Year’s Day.”

Nodding, Cal pressed
another quick kiss to her lips, this one chaste and innocent.  Honestly, he was
just grateful to whatever deity had watched over her tonight and allowed her to
come through her ordeal mostly unscathed.  “Okay, babe.  Let’s roll.”

Following Cal into her
darkened living room three hours later in a kind of dazed stupor, Melody shook
her head.  Seriously, how had today started so well…and then, devolved into
this
? 
Merry freakin’ Christmas to her… she’d had to face
all
her favorite
people today.

“Babe,” she heard Cal
call from behind her as he flipped on the overhead light.  “You okay?” he asked
her as she collapsed in a heap on her couch.  Glaring at the man responsible
for her current state of mind, she narrowed her eyes at him.  “I don’t know,
Cal.  Do I
look
okay to you?”

“Princess, I know that
was rough…”

“Rough,” Melody
sneered.  “Rough,” she repeated, shrugging her shoulders.  “Which part,
exactly, would you classify as
rough
, Callum?” she asked, staring at his
handsome face.  Pressing her lips together as she catalogued his twitching lips
and shining eyes, she shook her head furiously.  “Don’t!  Don’t you dare
laugh,” she ordered, pointing an accusing finger at him.

“You wanted to go with
me, baby.  If you recall, I tried to convince you to stay in Paradise,” Cal
managed to say with a straight face.  “You refused to trust me.”

Her glare intensified
on him.  “Don’t even start.  If I hadn’t been there to grab your punching arm
this evening, Brad’s head would be halfway to Mars by now.”

“You say that like it’s
a bad thing,” Cal returned, cocking his head as he gazed at her with amusement
as he walked toward the kitchen.  “Besides, why was it okay for you to take a
swing at him and not for me,” he asked, raising his voice so she could hear him
from a room away.

“Because, I was the
wronged party in that relationship and he owed me that punch,” she shouted back
to him as she stared down at her slightly swollen, bruised knuckles.  “And my
punch didn’t send him to the ER.  Yours would have,” she remarked as he walked
back into the room carrying a baggie filled with ice. 

“Keep this ice on your
hand,” Cal instructed, dropping the makeshift ice pack in her lap.  “Ten
minutes on, ten minutes off for the next forty minutes.  Also, remind me to
teach you how to throw a punch before I let you anywhere near those assholes
again.”

“Oh, no.  I’m DONE with
those people.  I still can’t believe that Brad’s parents extended an invitation
to the two whores Brad was fucking the most while he was with me.  My good ole matron
of honor and bridesmaid.  You gotta give me credit, Cal.  When I pick shitty
friends, I go for the gold.  I should have nailed both of those hoochies with a
right hook, too.”

“I think you did enough
damage for one night, Rocky,” Cal teased, dropping to the couch beside her and
taking her injured hand in his to get a closer look.  “I don’t think you broke
anything, but I don’t like the swelling it’s doing.  And those two former
friends of yours aren’t whores,” he remarked evenly.

Jerking her hand from
Cal’s, Melody seethed with anger.  “
Excuse
me?” she balked, visibly
recoiling. “Are you deranged?  Both of those horrible women were and are spreading
their legs for
my
boyfriend, both then and now.  I think that qualifies
‘em both for whoredom!  Their term ho, ho, ho has never been more freakin’
appropriate, Callum Valentine.  I can’t believe he had the nerve to include
them in the Christmas celebration at his parents’ house.  You could tell his
poor parents were humiliated,” she staunchly proclaimed with an irritated huff,
hissing in a breath when she attempted to wiggle the fingers on her injured
hand.  Jeez, first she had the allergic reaction to end all reactions and now
she’d busted up her hand.  She should have stayed in bed this morning and told
Santa he could stuff his gifts right up his chimney.

“First up,” he began as
he plopped his ass down on her coffee table and leaned forward to pull her hand
toward his, earning himself a hard frown, “Never call that jackwad S.O.B your
boyfriend again.  It fills me with all kinds of homicidal urges,” Cal explained
grouchily when she raised a brow at him.  Settling the freezing bag more firmly
over her hand as his knees brushed hers, he continued, “Second, I didn’t say
those bitches weren’t sluts.  They are.  They just aren’t whores.”

Melody offered the man
sitting on her coffee table across from her an incredulous look.  “What the
hell is the difference between a slut and a whore, you know-it-all.”

“The matter of a
paycheck.  A whore charges by the hour, while a slut gives up that shit for
free.  An arrogant ass like Brad the Cad isn’t gonna come up off his wallet to
buy it, babe.   He thinks he’s giving those gals the gift of his cock.”

“I’d be more concerned
that he was giving them the gift of syphilis or gonorrhea.  In addition to
being arrogant, Brad’s also lazy.  Unless those bitches are bullying him into
it, there’s no way he’s shrink wrapping his package.  God knows that I did my
fair share of worrying until I got a clean bill of health from my doctor, and I
never let him go without a glove.  At any rate, I’m not interested in having
the great slut versus whore debate with you,” she mumbled unhappily, handing
over the bag of ice when Cal gestured for it.

“Melody,” Cal said
stiffly, “I’m gonna need you to never,
ever
put the image of that fucker
touching you in my head again.  I know you were engaged to him and all, but the
thought of you and him… let’s just say those homicidal urges I was having have
reached a critical level.”

“My bad.  Sorry,” she
apologized, leaning her head back against the couch cushion as he lifted her
feet onto his lap and pulled off her ballet flats.   Moaning low in her throat
as he took one of her feet in her hand and began to massage her instep, she
stared at him.  “You know we wasted a trip down there.  You didn’t learn
anything besides the fact that the bakery the Wellers used made a mistake. 
Mrs. Weller told you that she specifically told them that my package shouldn’t
contain anything peanut-based.  Slut #1, otherwise known as my former best
friend Lindsey, confirmed it.  And she’d know since she’s the owner of the
bakery.”

“That’s what she said,”
Cal murmured, rotating her foot and stretching the tired muscles. 

“Cal, Brad might be an
ass, but his parents aren’t.  They’re just…”

“Rich?  Entitled? 
Oblivious that their son is an asshat?”

“Oh, no.  If the looks
Mrs. Weller kept giving my ex were any indication, she’s well aware her son is
an idiot.  The highlight of my night was watching the dirty looks she kept
flashing Brad, Lindsey and Melissa.”  Lifting her head, she grinned at Cal. 
“Did you hear her begging Brad to tell her that this wasn’t one of those
polyamorous relationships that she saw on television?  I thought Mr. Weller was
going to swallow his tongue.”

“I can’t believe that
we got there at the exact same time as your ex and his merry band of bimbos.”

Melody shrugged. 
“Before everything happened, we were all friends.  It wasn’t unusual for Lynds
or Missy to be there.  They went to school with Brad.”

“So they weren’t
your
friends originally,” Cal commented blandly.

“Nope.  I inherited
them.  Then, I disinherited them after I saw Lynds dancing on Brad’s dick. 
Same story when I learned Missy’d been mounting him every chance she got.  It
didn’t look like either one of them was wasting time trying to lock him down
now, though.  What I can’t figure out is if Brad has those two tramps on the
line, why is he still trying to catch me in his net?”

“Babe.” Cal stated,
tightening his hand around her foot as he met her eyes.

“What?” she asked when
he just kept looking at her with a faint grin on his face.

“Have you taken a good
look in the mirror, woman?  You’re fuckin’ gorgeous.  Those two chicks hangin’
off Brad tonight might have been easy, but they weren’t you.  Not by a
longshot.  You’re the whole package, Melody.  Beauty.  Brains.  Class.  Brad
knows he fucked all that up for himself and he wants it back.”

Melody snorted.  “Thank
you for the compliments, but I don’t think so.  At any rate, I think we can
agree that Mr. and Mrs. Weller haven’t put a peanut hit out on me.  You saw
their faces; they were mortified that I was sickened by their gift.  And Brad
seemed legitimately worried about me.  I mean, he laid it on thick…”

“He tried to cop a feel
with you,” Cal growled.  “He’s lucky I didn’t rip his heart out of his chest
via his asshole.”

Melody rolled her eyes,
whimpering at the cold when Cal moved forward to cover her hand with the ice
bag again.  “I think I took care of that quite well,” she retorted with an
annoyed look at her throbbing hand.   Smirking as she remembered the look of
pure shock that had taken over Brad’s face when she’d coldcocked him a good
one, she refused to feel bad.  She’d told him not to touch her before he’d
wrapped his arms around her.  Honestly, if she hadn’t have done something, she
had no doubt that Cal would be in jail right now because he wouldn’t have
stopped with a single punch.

“Yeah, you did,” she
heard Cal agree with a proud, happy grin, the corners of his eyes crinkling
sexily.  “And you’re right, I don’t think the old couple had anything to do
with what happened to you.  I’m not so sure about the others though.  Think
about it, babe.  Brad could have talked his little piece of ass into doing
anything to those cookies.”

“I think you’ve
invested too much time tonight into thinking about this.  It was an accident,
Callum.  There is no grand conspiracy to kill me.”

“Babe, somebody keeps
harassing you by calling and hanging up on you.  Tonight you nearly died from
eating a cookie that, in all likelihood, Brad had access to.  You seriously
want me to believe this shit isn’t connected in some way?”

“It’s just a
coincidence,” Melody groaned loudly.  “Since when are big, bad soldier boys
afraid of their own shadow, Cal?  I don’t see any reason to get those tighty-whities
of yours in a twist.”

Cal’s eyes gleamed as
he offered her a wicked smile of his own.  “Babe, I only fly commando.  And,
it’s not my shadow I’m real concerned with here, Princess.  It’s yours.  And I
don’t believe in coincidences.”

“Whatever,” Melody
stated carelessly, shrugging her slim shoulders even as she blushed while his
capable hands moved to her other foot and began massaging.  God, he was good at
that, she thought as she swallowed a moan as he worked the arch of her foot. 
She could feel the tension slipping from her body in spite of his grim
suspicions.  Because that’s all they were…suspicions.  He didn’t have a single
lick of proof and until he did, she wasn’t going to waste precious energy
worrying about something she couldn’t control anyway.  She didn’t want to seem
blasé, but really, she just couldn’t let her mind go there after the day she’d
had.  He could worry if he wanted; she was going to focus on the fact that she
was still breathing.

“Whatever,” he mocked. 
“I hate that word.  It’s the classy woman’s way of saying
I-don’t-give-a-flying-fuck,” he complained.

Cracking one eyelid,
Melody smiled.  “See, I feel like you and I are really getting to know each
other, Sergeant Tightass.  Quit worrying, Cal.   When you worry, it thickens
the air in here and after today, I wanna be able to breathe freely.”

“How ‘bout I just worry
silently, smartass?” Cal countered, his hand darting out to remove the ice pack
again.  Peering down at her injury, he nodded his satisfaction.  “The
swelling’s come off it.  It might be sore for a couple of days though.”

“Totally worth it,”
Melody grinned without opening her eyes.

“Alright, champ, I guess
you’ve earned the right to sit there and bask in your victory,” Cal chuckled,
moving her feet from his lap to rest on the edge of the coffee table before
moving to sit beside her.  Wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling
her pliant body into his, he murmured, “Jokes aside, you feelin’ okay?  You’ve
had a hell of a Christmas.”

Tucking her head into
the space between his neck and his shoulder, Melody closed her eyes.  “It
wasn’t as bad as it could have been.”

“That’s not sayin’ a
hell of a lot, baby,” he muttered, pressing his lips against the top of her
head.  “Give you a better one next year.  Don’t care if I have to plant that
fucker in the ground to do it.”

“You gave me good
this
year, Cal,” Melody contradicted softly, smiling as she felt his arm constrict
around her.  “Definitely better than any holiday I ever shared with Brad,” she
continued to share, unknowingly revealing more about her former relationship
than she probably should have. 

“Baby, that just makes
me wanna find the fuckwit and finish the job of kicking his ass,” Cal grumbled.

Melody laughed.  “I’m
starting to worry about these violent urges you’ve got, mister.  Do we need to
get you enrolled in some anger management classes?”

“I only experience
violent urges with assholes that deserve it, babe.  Otherwise, I’m the picture
of a sunny disposition.  Honestly, what doesn’t look happy about this face?” he
asked, pointing at himself as he cheesed for her. 

Melody giggled. 
“Fine.  I’m still mad at you, though,” she informed him lightly.