Stunned, I watch him get into the Mercedes parked near mine and drive away. I turn to Ashleigh, not even attempting to hide the shock and suspicion covering my face. “Who the fuck was that and where is your husband?”
“Devin is at his place across the park,” Ashleigh spits back hotly.
I blink. My heart stops beating momentarily and all the blood in my body seems to plummet into my Converse-covered feet. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Devin and I are separated,” she says in a hard voice.
“You are fucking kidding me.”
“Callie, can you just please go?” Ashleigh asks in a strained voice. “Just go and call Devin.”
“And say what?” I ask her, and suddenly I’m not shocked anymore—I’m furious. “Hey, Dev, was just at your house but there’s another guy there. What’s up?”
“I would appreciate it…” She shakes her head and there are tears in her eyes. “I would appreciate it if you didn’t jump to conclusions here and run and tell Devin things you don’t know.”
“I’m not a Sherlock Holmes, Ashleigh, but you’re in nothing but a bathrobe and there was a man here with you,” I reply fumingly. “And last time I checked, separated didn’t mean divorced. Separated doesn’t mean you fuck random Mercedes owners!”
“It’s complicated, Callie,” Ashleigh insists. “If you want to hurt Devin, then go ahead and tell him what youthinkyou know. But if you care about me—or him—at all, you’ll keep quiet until I can discuss things logically with my husband.”
“You have a man who loves you and wants to take care of you and helped you create a beautiful son and a perfect life,” I explain to her in a low, even tone. “There can be nothing logical about a conversation explaining why you’re throwing it away.”
I turn and storm down the steps and to my car. I glance back once and see her on the stoop looking distraught. I get four blocks away and pull over, parking at the curb as I dig my cell out of my purse. I can’t believe what just happened. What the fuck is Ashleigh doing? Poor Devin. Holy hell. Does anyone know what the fuck is going on with him? Did he tell Jordan or Cole or his mom or Luc? Anyone?
I dial his cell and he answers on the second ring.
“Hey, Cal,” he says in a tone I realize is forced lightheartedness. “I’m glad you called me back. When do you arrive?”
“I’m already here,” I say quietly. “And I know.”
There’s a brief pause. I hear him sigh.
“You went to the house?” he asks.
“Yes. Now where are you? We need to talk.”
“I’m at the park across the street from my rental. Conner loves it here,” he says in a defeated voice and gives me the address.
“See you soon.” I hang up the phone, punch the address into my GPS, and follow the directions.
Chapter 3
Devin
Ten minutes later, as I wait to catch Conner at the bottom of the corkscrew slide on the jungle gym, I see a car pull to the curb and Callie get out. As she puts money in the meter, I catch Conner and study her. She looks exactly like she did this past summer: tall, lean, curvy with that long brown hair and her full, pouty mouth. Callie’s beautiful and wild; everything about her has always exuded those two qualities. She has always annoyed, amused and terrified the crap out of me, usually in the same instant. My brain darts back to that time in the barn a million years ago and I chew my bottom lip. Fuck, that was something. I knew right then and there, without a doubt, she was more than I could ever handle. But, as she slipped down around my cock, I also toyed with the idea of dying trying.
Now she walks swiftly and with purpose—it’s almost more of a march. I feel a humiliated flush hit my cheeks. She knows Ashleigh left me. She knows I’ve been rejected. She knows I failed. I don’t know what to expect as she approaches. I put Conner down and he runs for the swings a few feet away. When Callie reaches me, she immediately throws her arms around me and traps me in a bear hug.
She’s so warm and soft and I’m overwhelmed by how badly I’ve been missing human contact. It occurs to me that the only touching I’ve had in my life since Ashleigh and I started having issues was body checks on the ice. Suddenly, I can’t take a deep breath.
I drop my head to her shoulder and bury my face in the crook of her neck. Her hand smooths my hair and lovingly holds the back of my neck. It’s the same gesture my mom used to do to me when I was Conner’s age. Oh God, it feels so good.
“Devin, you don’t deserve this,” she says in a throaty whisper.
“It is what it is,” I tell her with as much confidence as I can muster, which is hardly any. “I’m trying to get it back on track. For Con’s sake, if nothing else.”
She hugs me harder.
“Daddy!” Conner calls as he toddles back toward us. “I want swing, please!”
