Songbird (31 page)

He sits down beside me. “I should be thanking you. It’s nice to get away from the crowd for a few minutes. What can I do for you, Devin? I haven’t seen you in months. Charity events aren’t your scene anymore?”

“No, I’ve found a new scene.”

He grins and loosens his tie. “Can’t say I’m disappointed. Just means more women for me.”

“That’s what I’d like to talk to you about.”

“Oh?”

“I’ve fallen in love with a wonderful woman. We’re expecting a baby.”

“Is that right? A woman’s tamed Devin McAllister?”

I nod.

“I never thought I’d see the day. Congratulations, I guess, if that makes you happy.”

“Thank you. And yes, I’m very happy. Except for one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“I’m gonna need you to stop stalking her.”

His smile fades. “I’m . . . not sure I understand.”

“Her name’s Callie Franklin.”

Dominic’s face turns ashen.

“I’m going to say this as politely as I can. I assure you it will be the only time I’m civil when it comes to this request. Stop having her followed. Stop sending her flowers.”

He grins and leans back lazily in his chair.

“She’s a beautiful woman, McAllister.”

“That she is.”

“You aren’t up for a little healthy competition?”

I try desperately to keep a tight grip on my temper. “Have a little class, Barkley. She’s pregnant. You’re frightening the woman I love. I’m politely asking you to let it go. If not—”

“And here comes the threat.”

“Not a threat. It’s a promise. You’re in the middle of a campaign. The last thing you need is to be arrested for stalking.”

“I’m not following Cal—”

“No, I’m sure you don’t have time to stalk her and run an efficient mayoral campaign at the same time. But you’re having her followed. Your last love note confirmed it. You know she works for the
Journal
. You’re running for office. The last thing you need is a sexual harassment scandal making front page news.”

He chuckles. “You’re bluffing. You can’t prove a thing.”

I pull the handwritten card out of my pocket and place it on the table. “See this? I have the evidence—right down to the banana peppers reference. Do not test me on this, Barkley. I will ruin you. Are we clear?”

Dominic regards me coolly before nodding his head.

I stand up from my chair and put the card back in my pocket. “Good. Contact her again and I’ll call the police.”

With a cocky grin, he rises from his chair. “You seem to forget that I’ll be in charge of the police when I’m elected mayor.”

I take a step closer. “Fine. Contact her again and I’ll kill you. Better?”

His eyes flash with anger, but he nods firmly.

“I’m glad we understand each other. Good luck with the election.”

I turn on my heel and head for the door.

“Can I count on your support?” he asks as I turn the knob.

“Not a chance in hell.”

And with that, I step out into the hallway, letting the door slam behind me.

The month following the debate is filled with lots of physical and emotional changes for Callie—some of which aren’t enjoyable at all. The good news is, with the Dominic situation finally under control, Callie’s blood pressure is back in the normal range. The bad news is she’s on a rollercoaster of emotions now that she’s midway through the second trimester. No matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to do anything right. What makes her happy one day can make her furious the next.

Dad tells me to get used to it.

At night, we’ve started reading to each other from the baby bible. Yesterday morning, when I reminded her not to wear high heels because—according to the book—they could strain her back, Callie dissolved into tears. The banana pepper craving ended as quickly as it started, and now, the mere mention of mayonnaise sends her running for the toilet. The return of the nausea, combined with the mood swings, has brought our amazing sex life to an abrupt halt.

It’s been three weeks since we’ve had sex.

Three very long weeks.

But I’ll take it. I’ll take it all. The mood swings. The crying jags. I’ll take it . . . because I love her.

After a crappy day in court, I decide to grab a pizza for dinner, because both of us could use a nice, relaxing night at home.

Home.

Callie’s apartment has truly become my home. I even have a key. Despite that, she hasn’t officially asked me to move in with her. It seems the next logical step, but just because I spend every single night with her doesn’t mean she’s ready to live with me. I’m saving that discussion for later—when her emotions are on a more even keel. Besides, our lives have changed so much already. I’m hesitant to add one more life-altering event to the mix.

I can be patient.

When I step inside the apartment that evening, the first thing I hear is Callie crying from behind her bedroom door. Normally, this would cause me to panic, but these days, it doesn’t take much to cause a meltdown. I place the pizza on the kitchen table before heading to her room. I don’t even bother to knock, and when I open the door, I see my beautiful girl lying across her bed, crying softly into her pillow.

With a quiet sigh, I slowly climb up on the bed and reach for her. She comes willingly, burying her face against my neck when I wrap her in my arms.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” I whisper against her ear.

She sniffles and lifts her head.

“I’m ugly.”

We’ve only had this same discussion three times this week. Very gently, I slide my fingers across her wet cheeks.

“You are not ugly. You are so beautiful, Callie.”

“Whatever. You just like that my boobs are getting bigger.”

I fight back a grin.

“You know, I think you’re even prettier now than on the night we met, and I thought you were gorgeous then.”

“You’re such a liar, Devin McAllister. I’m fat and getting fatter. I have heartburn from hell. Nothing fits. And I have a zit!” She points to her forehead, and sure enough, a tiny pimple is starting to form. “I haven’t had a zit since high school!”

“Sweetheart, the book said your skin goes through changes and that pimples were a possibility. Besides, you have bangs. Nobody’s—”

“
Everybody
will see it. This whole pregnancy thing sucks. They say you’re supposed to be glowing and happy, but all I feel is undesirable and moody. I have to pee all the freaking time. I
cry
all the time. And today, Frank sent me home from work early because I told the copy editor to kiss my ass. I’m being such a bitch to everyone and I hate it.”

I kiss her temple and hold her close. “You know this won’t last forever. Your body’s just adjusting to the fact that you’re growing a human being inside you. You’re allowed to be hormonal.”

She sniffles quietly and wipes at her nose. “Why do you put up with me?”

“Because I’m crazy in love with you. Besides, I don’t feel like I’m putting up with anything. I just wish I could make you feel better.”

“You always do.” Callie sighs and leans in, kissing me gently. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Feel better?”

She nods.

“I brought pizza.”

“With mushrooms?”

Please, God, let her still like mushrooms.
I nod hesitantly.

“That sounds delicious!”

Callie kisses me one last time, and I can’t help but laugh as she jumps off the bed and races to the kitchen.

I
t’s official. Devin McAllister is a saint.

Not only is he putting up with my crazy, hormonal ass, but he’s actually being sweet about it. He never loses his temper and never makes me feel anything less than beautiful and loved. I know I’m not the easiest person to live with right now, and I’m being a bitch to everyone.

Leo told me so.

Devin, however, just takes it all in stride, which makes me feel even worse. But it’s not like I can control my emotions. Thankfully, he knows this, and he doesn’t hold it against me.

I’ve felt better this week, to be honest. I’m not nearly as moody and my crying jags have dwindled. I still don’t feel normal, but at least I can walk into work without biting someone’s head off.

It’s a good thing, too, because the newsroom is a zoo because of the mayoral election next week.

The flower deliveries have stopped and my new bodyguard hasn’t been around, so I’m guessing Devin had a conversation with Dominic. I haven’t asked, and I won’t, because I don’t care. I’m just glad the man’s out of my life.

For now, anyway.

Dominic’s leading in the polls, which means I’m probably going to have to look at the man’s face in the mayor’s office for the next four years. I’m not particularly thrilled about that, but I’m a professional. I’ll deal.

“Doughnut?”

Glancing up, I find Leo smiling down at me. He’s holding a box of glazed in his hands. I happily reach for one, take a bite, and moan happily.

“Mommy seems to be in a better mood this week.”

“Sorry I’ve been such a bitch.”

“You can make it up to me. There’s a new Italian place I want to try.”

I grin. “It’s a date. Now, if only I could think of a way to make it up to Devin. He’s been so patient and sweet.”