Tangled Hearts (Passion in Paradise) (10 page)

She did recall her
brother mentioning that Cal was a bit of a Civil War buff, though.  And he had
shushed her three times the other night when a documentary on Gettysburg had
been playing on television.  The longer she thought about it, the more a vague
idea began to form in the back of her mind.  Humming a Christmas carol under
her breath as she continued to plan and follow behind Goose as he paused to
christen every tree along the footpath, she began to relax. 

It was as they were
rounding the last bend of the park path that her cell phone began to ring
inside the pocket of her coat.  Pulling it out, she frowned when she didn’t
recognize the number that flashed on the phone’s display.  Consigning herself
to the probable reality that she was about to have a very short conversation
with a telemarketer, Melody swept her finger across the screen and pressed the
phone to her ear.  “Hello,” she greeted the caller, purposefully injecting a
hurried tone to her voice.

“You bitch!” a deep voice
snarled at her.  “A restraining order, Melody?  What the fuck were you
thinking?  My father and the Knoxville Chief of Police play golf together, for
God’s sake!”

“Bradley?” Melody
questioned, surprised.

Brad continued as if he
didn’t hear her.  “Undo this, Mellie.  Undo it, immediately!”

“Bradley, I thought you
knew I’d gotten the restraining order.  I took it out almost two weeks ago,”
Melody replied weakly.

“I’ve been in New York
on business for the company, but imagine my surprise when I return home and
find a deputy waiting on my doorstep to serve me with a fucking restraining
order!  You’re going to be my wife, Melody.  I hardly think this is necessary.”

“Are you crazy?  We
broke up, Bradley!  Months ago!” Melody shouted, grimacing as she drew stares
from a few walkers in the park.  “We are not together any longer, Brad, and you
can’t seem to get that through your head.  Hence, the need for a restraining
order.  Which, as it stands, you’ve been violating for ten days by repeatedly
calling me,” she hissed.

“I’ve done no such
thing.  And we’re NOT broken up; we’re merely taking a break,” Brad retorted
dismissively.  “I’m giving you time to realize that being apart is a mistake. 
And I’ve been very patient with you, Melody, but this is unacceptable.  Have
this order dropped, Mellie, before I’m forced to become unnecessarily
unpleasant,” he threatened, his voice turning cold and distant.  “I don’t think
you want me to do that, do you?  After all, I come from a rather powerful
family, and you…well, you’re nobody.”

Melody’s jaw dropped at
his audacity.  “Fuck you, Bradley.  In fact, you should feel free to fuck yourself
up the ass with a brill-o pad, you egomaniac!  You don’t scare me!”

“Then you are a very
stupid little girl, Melody.  And do you know what happens to stupid girls?”
Bradley asked, his voice dark and scary.

Melody shuddered,
swallowing hard as her eyes stung with tears.  “What?”

“They have to learn
very nasty lessons the hard way,” he replied softly before hanging up on her.

Momentarily terrified
by Brad’s threats, Melody tugged Goose’s leash as she took a few stumbling
steps toward an empty park bench, collapsing heavily when she reached it.  Her
heart pounded in her chest and she could feel her pulse throbbing in her neck. 
In all the time she’d known Brad, he’d
never
spoken to her like that. 
He’d always been a perfect gentleman.  Now, she didn’t recognize the person
she’d spent the last five years with.  Not anymore.  And she had absolutely no
idea of what he was capable of doing.  Unfortunately for her, she was so caught
up in her own thoughts that she didn’t notice the furious man in blue flannel
that stood behind her listening to every word of her conversation with her ex-fiancé. 

“Are you fuckin’
shittin’ me woman?” Mellie heard Cal’s deep, angry voice growl from behind
her.  “You’ve been talking to that dick every day for almost two weeks and you
never said a fuckin’ thing?”

And as Melody looked up
into Callum’s irate face, she wondered who was more dangerous to her at the
moment.  Brad or Cal?

“What in the name of
ever-lovin’ fuck were you thinking, Melody?” Cal thundered as he stomped toward
where she sat on the bench, his furious face etched with equal parts worry and
frustration.  He wasn’t sure what the fuck she’d been thinking.  Hell, he
wasn’t sure he
cared
what she’d been thinking.  Right now, all he could
concentrate on was fighting the urge to hunt down and kill the weasel that had
put that frightened look in her eyes.  “You don’t look like you’re brain dead
to me.  Am I wrong? 
Are
you fucked in the head, woman?”  He knew he
might be stepping across a line in the sand with her, but damn it, she’d risked
her safety talking to that douchebag. 

“Cal, shhhh!” Melody
quickly shushed him as several people turned to look at them.  “You’re
attracting attention.”

“Good!  Witnesses watching
us may be the only thing that stops me from shaking the life out of you,” he
roared furiously, unwilling to have his rage dampened.  “Dammit!  You’ve been
talking to that dick for days, Mel?  And you’ve been hiding it from me, too?”

“Callum, use your
inside voice,” Melody managed to say through her teeth as Cal watched her shoot
a particularly nosy elderly couple a stiff smile. 

“Fuck that!” Cal
snapped, ignoring the stares he was attracting – especially the gawking old
woman that was shaking her head at him disapprovingly.  “Inside voices are for
parents and pussies,” he announced harshly, taking a perverse kind of pleasure
in watching the old woman frown at him.  “As you know, I’m neither fuckin’
one.  What I am is a grown-ass, pissed-off man!  Now, answer me, damn you. 
What the fuck were you thinking?  Tell me, do you want that piece of shit back
in your life or what?”

“Of course not,” Melody
hissed, bolting to her feet and jamming a finger into his chest.  “Now, I’m not
asking, I’m telling you….
Stop
yelling at me!”

Dropping his gaze to
look down at the index finger she had jabbed into his chest, he snorted.  “Is
that supposed to hurt?”

Melody dropped her
hand.  “You’re an ass,” she growled before pulling on Goose’s leash and making
that universal kissy face noise that convinced dogs everywhere to fall in line
behind their mistresses.  Jaw clenching as he watched her begin to walk away
from him, he quickly caught her arm.  “You’re not bolting, Mel.  And you aren’t
shutting me out either.  Tell me what happened to put that look on your face a
few minutes ago.  What did that monster prick say to upset you?”

“Nothing that I can’t
handle,” Melody snapped, avoiding his gaze as she tried to jerk her arm from
his grip. 

“Nuh uh,” Cal denied. 
“You aren’t going anywhere until we hash this out.  Did that asshole threaten
you, babe?  So help me God, I’ll find him and castrate him with a butter knife
if he scared you.”

“He just took me by
surprise, Callum,” Melody whispered painfully as she looked up into his face. 
“Look,” she said, looking around at the few people milling around the park. 
“I’m cold.  I promise, I’ll tell you everything you want to know if we can just
do it privately,” she bargained, keeping her voice low for his ears only. 
“This is a small town.  I really don’t want my business broadcast to the
masses.  Please,” she begged, lifting her gaze to stare at him with pleading
eyes filled with tears.

“Shit,” Cal swore
softly, his gut twisting as he spotted her shining eyes.  He automatically lifted
a hand to cradle her cheek, his broad thumb catching a teardrop as it fell from
the corner of her eye.  “Fine, baby, we’ll do things your way.  Just don’t
cry,” he whispered.  “We’ll go home, talk, and figure out how best to handle
your former dick of a boyfriend.  I’ve already locked up the store for you.  We
need to let that paint smell air out anyway before we go back and try to do any
more work.  It should be fine by tomorrow, but for now the fumes are pretty
strong.”

“Okay,” he heard Melody
acknowledge softly, her breath hitching slightly as Cal watched while she tried
to get her emotions under control.  Bending his head, he stared down at her and
realized he’d do damn near anything to take that bruised look out of her eyes. 
Hooking one hand around the nape of her neck, he drew her toward him, pressing
his lips to her cool forehead.  “We’ll figure things out, Mel.  Just don’t
leave me in the dark, Princess,” he chided gently.  “I can’t protect you if I
don’t know where the danger is,” he murmured against her skin before moving to
her moist lips.  Sucking her lower lip gently, he felt her inhale sharply,
shocked at the touch of his mouth against hers.  “For once, just kiss me back,
Melody.  Don’t fight the connection, honey.  Feel how strong it is between us.”

He heard her soft moan
of acquiesce a second before his mouth cover hers, claiming it as conquered
territory.  Brushing his tongue against the seam of her lips, he wanted to
celebrate when he felt them part without any prodding from him, allowing him to
slip inside her mouth and explore the warm wet cavern.  He’d kissed a lot of
women in his life, offering them everything from innocent pecks to lusty
necking and visiting all points in between, but he’d never experienced a kiss
like he shared with her before.  It was hot, sexy, and electric in its
intensity.  With just a touch of her tongue, she was able to make his cock
harder than the last bitch that had gone down on him had.  Wrapping his arms
around her waist, he settled her tiny body against his, deepening the kiss to
an almost inappropriate level (if the coughs the old guy behind him were
anything to go by.)

Grudgingly lifting his
head and releasing her willing lips, Cal shot a glare at the elderly couple. 
He was finally getting somewhere with the stubborn spitfire in his arms, but Ma
and Pa Kettle’s disapproving frowns were ruining his moment.  “Let’s go home,
Princess.  It’s time for us to do some talking.”

Why the hell had she
let him kiss her like that?  That was the question Melody kept asking herself
over and over again during the entire ten minute truck ride home.  There were
no answers forthcoming as she followed Cal out of his pickup and up the steps
to her house.  Goose happily trotted along beside them, happily clueless to any
of the internal angst from which she was currently suffering.  The only
explanation she could even remotely think of was that Cal had managed to catch
her off her game in a particularly weak moment.  And that was the truth. 
Really, to be fair, how often did a chick feel like she was in imminent danger
of being snuffed out by a crazy ex-fiancé?

The answer to that was
probably more often than she cared to think about so she quickly decided to
move on.  Lifting a hand to touch her still tingling lips, she watched as Cal
bent to unclip the leash from Goose’s collar, his movements unhurried as he
tossed the red lead on the entryway table before turning to look at her.

Knowing that he was
about to go on the offensive, she shook her head.  “I’m not ready to talk yet,”
she said quickly, curtailing him.  Skirting around his huge body to dart into
her mostly tidy kitchen, she knew she needed to think fast if she was gonna
avoid a discussion she wasn’t ready to have.  Spotting the sink, she smiled. 
They’d left their breakfast dishes in the sink, but beyond that, the counters
and table were clean.  Maybe she could hide in here and make scrubbing a couple
of dishes into an afternoon project.  But first, she needed a little liquid
libation.  Heading directly to the cabinet above the stove, she knew exactly
what she wanted.  Standing on her tiptoes, her fingers grazed the cool glass of
one of the bottles she was looking for.

“What the hell are you
doing, Princess?” she heard Cal’s deep voice ask from the doorway.

“If you wanna keep
insisting on a chat so badly, I’m gonna need something to lubricate my
conversational wheels,” she returned a little breathlessly as her hand tried to
reach the clear bottle toward the back of the cabinet. 

“So…”

“So, I need the help of
my three favorite conversationalists,” she bit out, her hand blindly feeling
for the familiar bottle.

Cal raised an eyebrow,
his hands going to his hips.  “Three conversationalists, huh?” he snorted.

“Yes,” she snapped. 
“Jim, Jack, and their immigrant friend, Jose Cuervo, speak my language and Jose
gets downright chatty after the third shot,” she informed him, smiling as she
pulled down the last bottle and lined them up on the counter. 

“You realize that it’s
only just after two in the afternoon, babe?  Kinda early to hang out with those
particular pals of yours.”

Melody turned to shoot
her unwanted roommate a dirty look.  “Really?  The GI Joe is gonna judge me?”

“Not judging, Mel. 
Asking.  There’s a difference,” he defended himself calmly.

Her lips pursed as she
glared at him.  What gave Mr. Nosy Pants the right to even question her
choices?  He was just someone she lived with.  Platonically.  Very, very
platonically, she reminded herself as she slowly licked her lips as she stared
at his cut chest while he unbuttoned his shirt and got more comfortable. 
“Don’t soldiers pound back those caffeine-loaded energy drinks with their
morning coffee for an extra boost to the day?  This,” she explained, lifting
her bottle of Jack Daniels in front of her and shaking it slightly, “is the
extra boost that
I
need to get through this little pow wow you’re
demanding.  Either accept it or leave me alone.”

“Point made,” Cal
replied with a nod of acceptance as he moved toward the cupboard where she kept
the glasses and pulled down two tumblers.  “Grab your friends there and bring
them into the living room,” he ordered firmly with a nod toward the three
bottles as he held a glass in each hand.  “We might as well be comfortable
while we discuss things.”

“We might as well be
comfortable while we discuss things,” Melody parroted under her breath as she
collected the bottles and followed him into her cozy living room.  She’d worked
hard at making this room as comfortable and inviting as possible when she moved
back into her grandmother’s house.  The walls were painted a soothing heather
gray and her furniture was of the overstuffed, super-comfy variety.   It was
old, but it was still in good condition and fully paid for…two of her favorite
qualities in furniture.   She’d replaced the shag carpet that had come with the
house just days after she moved into the home.  Now, as she dropped to sit
cross legged between her couch and oak coffee table, her ass was cushioned by a
thick piled crème carpet that was super soft to the touch.  Holding out one of
her hands, Melody looked to where Cal stood on the other side of the table. 
“Gimmee,” she directed, holding up her hand to receive a glass.

“You sure I can’t talk
you into starting off with a beer, babe?  I promise, you’ll get the same buzz,”
he bargained, hanging onto the tumblers in his hand for another few seconds.

“Yeah, eventually, I’d
reach the pleasantly buzzed state of mind, but I’ll get there a whole lot
quicker with liquor.  Thanks for your concern, though.  It’s touching.  Truly,”
she replied, reaching for the glass.

“Jesus, she’s already
making rhymes and she hasn’t had a single hit from the bottle yet,” Cal
muttered, tilting his head to look at the ceiling.  “It’s gonna be a long
fuckin’ afternoon.”

“Whiners are wieners,
Callum,” Melody warned as she twisted off the cap of the Jack Daniels and
poured a liberal shot into her glass.  “What’s your poison, Soldier Boy?”

“I think I’ll stick to
water,” he replied, holding up the bottle of water he’d snagged from the
kitchen.

“No booze, no schmooze,
my pal Cal,” she warned, taking her first shot and shuddering as the alcohol
trail blazed a path down her esophagus, making her eyes water.  “Shit!” she
hissed, slapping an open palm against the uncluttered coffee table.  “I forgot
all about the burn.”  Finally looking up at him as the burn in her throat
receded to a dull throb, she saw him shake his head at her.

“You sure this is a
good idea, babe?  When’s the last time you got plastered?” Cal asked dryly as
he slowly settled his body on the floor across the table from her and twisted
the cap off his bottle of water.

“The first night I
stayed in this house after I left the asshole,” Melody answered truthfully,
unapologetic about that night.  She’d needed mindless oblivion, and the Triple
J’s hadn’t let her down, she thought with a fond look at the bottles of Jim,
Jack and Jose Cuervo.  “I got positively trashed.  It was the night I painted
this room,” she shared, lifting the hand holding her whiskey glass to gesture
at the walls.  “I did a fantastic job for being shit-faced, didn’t I?”

Cal looked around the
room and begrudgingly nodded.  “Not bad.  Still don’t think you should have
been drinking alone, but at least you weren’t behind a wheel,” he mumbled.

“Of course not,” Melody
snapped, pausing in the act of pouring another shot into her glass.  “I’m not
an idiot.”  Reaching for the other glass, she stared at him.  “So…your poison?”

Sighing, Cal turned his
gaze toward the bottles.  “Jim, I guess.  But I’m not getting drunk with you. 
One of us has to remain sober.”

“Why?”

“You and I get drunk
together and there’s gonna be fireworks, babe.  You can bet your sexy ass on
that,” he offered, taking a sip of the amber whiskey.  “And when I finally get
you underneath me in bed, I’m gonna want both of us to be sober as a judge.”

“You aren’t getting me
in bed with you.  I won’t be under, over, beneath or above you, you
Neanderthal.  Not while I’m sloshed OR sober” Melody informed him with a
haughty smirk.  “So, that’s a total and complete non-issue.”

“It’s gonna be a
pleasure to prove you wrong on that score, baby, but right now, we’ve got more
important things to talk about than what my tongue and cock are gonna do to
your sweet little pussy when you finally stop throwing up walls between us. 

Melody’s jaw dropped. 
“You have GOT to stop saying crap like that, Cal!  It’s never gonna happen for
you,” she growled when she was able to form coherent words again before
pounding back another shot as she kept her angry stare on him.

“We’ll see,” he
declared with a shrug.  “Now, let’s stop beating around the bush and talk about
what that ex-prick of yours said to you earlier.  I know that whatever he said
was enough to drive you to drink so that already insures some form of payback
is in order,” he said, his voice hard and low as he kept staring at her.

“Cal, please,” Melody
groaned, dropping her glass back to the table between them.  “Can’t we build up
to the hard questions?  I’ve got an idea,” she offered excitedly, her eyes
unnaturally bright, “Let’s play twenty questions.  You get ten; I get ten. 
That way, maybe we can get to know each other a bit better.” 

“And you get to indulge
in a little more liquid courage before you get the questions you wanna answer
the least,” Cal surmised, his blue eyes amused as he raised one eyebrow at her.

.Melody grinned
mischievously.  “We-eellllll, that’s just a happy coincidence, isn’t it?”

“Sure, it is,” Cal
chuckled, clearly entertained by her stall tactics.  It’s a good thing that I
subscribe to the ideology that booze makes a body more truthful and open to new
ideas then, huh?”

“Huh?” she grunted,
cocking her head slightly as her eyebrows furrowed.  “What in the name of
Dumbledore’s robe are you talking about?” she asked, inwardly grimacing as she
realized she was showing her inner nerd girl to him.  What could she say?  She
worshipped at the JK Rowling altar.  She truly believed Rowling’s character,
Harry Potter, was one of the greatest literary heroes of all time.  The little
boy ranked right up there with Rhett Butler in her book.

Cal laughed.  “You’re
never boring, are you, Sweet Cheeks.  I’m talking about alcohol, Princess. 
It’s like truth serum to most people.  That liquid courage of yours is well
known for limbering up the most reluctant of tongues.  Although, you shouldn’t
worry about me, babe.  My tongue can be
very
agile for you if you need
it to be.  No booze required.”

Melody shivered at the
heavy sexual innuendo in his voice.  “Cute.  Real cute, Cal.”

“Well, I didn’t want
you to worry ‘bout my tongue.  That would be rude.  At any rate, when liquors
on the menu, secrets generally just fall out on the table,” he pointed out,
eyeing the half full glass of Jack Daniels she’d just poured for each of them. 
“It’s not gonna take a little thing like you long to get real loose with her
confidences.  So, yeah, go ahead.  Let’s do this twenty question thing.  An
answer for an answer.”

“How many passes do we
get?” she asked quickly, wanting to clearly define the rules up front.

“None,” Cal denied
flatly, his alert gaze pinning her to where she sat when she would have bolted
for cover.  When she opened her mouth to argue, he interrupted, “It’s not truth
or dare, Melody.  There aren’t any passes.  You answer the question you get
asked.  Fully and truthfully.  No exceptions.  We’ll go easiest to hardest.”

Melody knew when to
admit that she was beat.  “Fine.  Let me go change into something real quick
that’s more comfortable than these jeans,” she said with a look down at the
denim molded to her legs.

“You takin’ requests,
babe?  ‘Cause if you are, I’d like to see you in something sheer and
see-through,” he suggested with a devilish grin. 

“Keep dreamin’,
Sergeant Slime,” she muttered as she climbed to her feet, slightly dizzy from
the alcohol she’d already consumed.

“Oh, I do dream about
you, Melody.  Most of them are of the triple X variety, but they count,” he
returned, reaching out his hand to steady her.  “You need some help in…I mean,
to
the bedroom?”

“I got it,” she replied
dryly, shaking her head.  The guy just never stopped with the sexual innuendo. 
She’d be damned if she’d admit how much she enjoyed their banter, though.  He’d
go from amusing to insufferable if he ever figured it out.  “You and your
libido just take a break out here.  I’ll be right back.”