I had a vision of Beau and me picking her up from whatever party, putting her to bed with water and painkillers, then making her breakfast. I longed to be there for the slew of firsts Clara had ahead of her.
Calliope stood back up on heels that would’ve broken my ankle, that apparently, she wore even when there was snow on the ground and ample ice to slip on.
“Kiss your man,” she ordered me, covering Clara’s eyes with palms stacked in diamonds. “I’ll protect the child.”
Beau shook his head, smirking, but he surprised me by obeying. In my next breath, his lips were on mine, coaxing my mouth open.
The kiss was nothing radical, but his tongue did slip in for a split second, teasing me with what was to come.
When he let me go, I was already feverish from head to toe, and not just because Calliope was right there, grinning, demonstrating that she’d been unashamedly watching the whole time.
“That’s what I like to see.” She uncovered Clara’s eyes, who was unsurprisingly being a good sport, but when wasn’t she?
When Beau picked Clara up to rest on his hip, I leaned forward to kiss her nose.
“Have fun.” She cupped my cheek with her small hand. “And make sure you get a hangover so Calliope can come for breakfast tomorrow.”
“I’ll do my best,” I giggled.
“Yes, you will,” Beau added pointedly.
I scowled at him because how dare he remind me of sexual promises right in front of his daughter and sister-in-law?
He kissed me again, chastely this time, but my body was already erupting in sensation, expectant for what was to come when I got home.
“Love you,” he murmured.
My muscles constricted. I still hadn’t returned the words, and he hadn’t seemed bothered. But it created tension, especially with spectators.
Calliope saved the day.
“Yeah, yeah. It’s a modern-day love story, cute and everything, but booze won’t drink itself.” She grabbed my arm with astonishing strength and dragged me away.
Beau and Clara waved me off.
My heart hurt just a little, leaving them, but less so knowing I would come back home.
Home.
Because that’s what they were.
“Beau’s probably going to fuck this up,” Calliope said as soon as she reversed out of the driveway.
Her car was so fancy I was afraid to touch anything. She was an aggressive driver. She kept to the speed limit on the familystreets, but her car vibrated with a low purr that told me it had a lot of horsepower.
I glanced at her profile, surprised by her words, dread building in my stomach.
“He’s a masochist, an alpha, a grumpy bastard.” She listed the qualities off on red-tipped fingers. “But he’s also a good man. And he’ll talk himself into all sorts of bullshit circles that had you two dancing around each other so long in the first place.”
It didn’t astound me how perceptive Calliope was, but it did surprise me that she had been paying so much attention to us.
“It was that obvious?” I felt sheepish, embarrassed.
“He all but thumped his chest and yelled ‘mine’ whenever you were around.” She rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “But he let misplaced nobility get in the way, which I don’t doubt he’ll do at some point again. I’m not here to make excuses for men. In fact, I hate making excuses for men. I prefer ruining their lives.”
I smiled at her words, not doubting them for a second. I let myself wonder, not for the first time, what Calliope’s life was like. She was an enigma to me. Powerful, obviously rich, ruthless. But also sweet and patient with Clara. In love with the most carefree man I’d ever met.
“Beau can have some leeway because of his past, and because he dragged me out of an ocean and saved my life, blah, blah, blah.” She flicked her wrist dismissively. “If I’m wrong, which I rarely am, he may not fuck it up, you may live happily ever after without any messy hiccups.” She glanced sideways at me as we reached a stop sign. “But real love is always messy with a lot of hiccups. It’d be boring otherwise, wouldn’t it?”
