Bad For Me Page 7

  “Wah, wah,” Caroline said.

  “Seriously, where are you taking me? I thought you had given up the whole bar scene unless it has to do with business.” Callie relaxed into the seat as Caroline pulled away from the curb.

  “I did.”

  “So?”

  “Don’t you want to be surprised?” Caroline asked. “We are going to the Haunted Houses of Albion! It’s opening weekend, and it’s going to be epic!”

  It took a split second for Callie to process that before panic lit her body on fire.

  “Take me home,” Callie said, her throat constricting. The last thing she wanted to do was go to a place that glorified crazy people and murder, even if it was supposed to be fun. She’d already lived through that once.

  “What? Why?” Caroline asked. “Come on, it’ll be great—”

  But Callie wasn’t going to give into Caroline, not about this. “If you want to do something else, fine, but if you want to go walk around with people dressed up as psycho clowns and mental patients, I’m going to pass.”

  Caroline didn’t say anything for several moments; she just stared straight ahead.

  Why had she snapped? She could have opened up a little and told Caroline why, instead of jumping down her throat. But she didn’t want to tell anyone, didn’t want to watch their looks of horror turn to pity.

  She didn’t deserve pity. Everything that had happened to her, she’d brought on herself by believing Tristan when he’d sworn he was fine. For months, he’d told her it was just exhaustion, that he was spread too thin, and she’d tried to make his life easier, enlisting her mother to help make dinners and making sure he got plenty of rest.

  But that hadn’t worked. Instead, she’d come home to a living nightmare, and there was no way in hell she was going to experience it again for entertainment.

  Taking a deep breath, Callie broke the silence. “I’m sorry if I spoiled your night.”

  “Naw, don’t worry about it. I’ll just go with my sisters.”

  “Sorry, it’s just . . . ” Callie wasn’t sure she wanted to get into her past with Caroline. She enjoyed their fun, uncomplicated friendship. Caroline knew about her drinking and that Ratchet was trained as a therapy dog, but Caroline had never pressed her about why she needed one, and she was grateful. She didn’t talk to anyone about Tristan.

  “Hey, really, it’s fine. I have issues with bowling alleys, so we’re even.”

  “Noted,” Callie said, adding, “So what do you want to do instead?”

  “We could go to a movie. Grab some dinner and some coffee?”

  “Sure,” Callie said, relaxing into the seat.

  “How about the new one with Rachel McAdams?” Caroline asked.

  Yeah, because watching a picture-perfect romance is exactly what you need when you’re all tied up in knots about a guy.

  “Or we could go see something funny that doesn’t make me want to gouge my eyes out.”

  “Och, lassie, but ye’ve got nah romance in ya soul.”

  “Okay,” Callie said. “That was the worst Irish accent I’ve ever heard.”

  “Mmmm, I thought I nailed it . . . and it was Scottish.”

  Callie burst into laughter. “Hashtag, fail.”

  “You are just on comedic fire tonight. Okay, so accents aren’t my thing. You know what totally is, though? Bacon cheeseburgers from Jensen’s.”

  “A bacon cheeseburger sounds great.”

  “Good. Now, Gracie said you two were planning Gemma’s baby shower. Please tell me she’s kidding about not finding out the sex?”

  “I wish I could,” Callie said. “It’s driving Gracie nuts.”

  “I am so glad my sister found out they were having a boy. I hate shopping for unisex stuff.”

  “When are you having Valerie’s shower?” Callie asked, a slight pain in her chest. Everyone around her seemed to be moving on and planning for the future.

  You could have that, if you would only let go of the past.

  “Not until January. I’m going to make her a baby book with pictures of her and Justin at certain ages, so they can compare and see who the little guy looks like.”

  “Wait—you’re going to scrapbook?” Callie asked.

  “No, I’m ordering it online. I’m not fucking Martha Stewart!”

  Callie snorted. “We all know that.”

  “Oh, I have another favor to ask!”

  “Um . . . no?”

  “Shut up. Look, I was going to avoid it, since about sixty-six percent of Rock Canyon’s citizens still hate my guts, but Val and Justin are putting together the Rock Canyon Harvest Festival out at the Silverton farm on Saturday, so I feel like I need to go support them. Wanna be my date?”

  Callie made a face in the dark. She had avoided most of Rock Canyon’s community functions, mainly because she just didn’t like being in a crowd, but it had more to do with the location and who she’d be most likely to bump into.

  You can’t avoid Everett forever.

  No, but she had managed to not bump into him once, prior to last week. As long as she avoided his home, and even his dad . . .

  Oh, God, what if he told Fred he was interested in her? What would Fred say?

  No, she was definitely avoiding the festival. Besides, the people of Rock Canyon were a touchy-feely bunch when they liked you. Even Mrs. Andrews had patted her arm once to tell her how much she enjoyed a segment she’d done. Callie had thought Gracie and Gemma, who were with her, were going to fall over in shock.

  The thing was, she hated to be touched, but especially by people she didn’t know.

  Except when it comes to a certain former marine. Then you become a quivering puddle of goo.

  She had been thinking about his offer of friendship all day and was half tempted to show up on Saturday with Caroline, just to shock and surprise him for a change. But then the little sane voice in her head piped up, screaming about what a bad idea that was, how she just needed to keep her distance, and that she had all the friends she needed.

  “Ellie is going to be dressed up in the haunted corn maze. And you know they’ll have elephant ears . . . what do you think?” Caroline asked.

  Callie leaned her head back and sighed. “You know I hate crowds.”

  “I’ll be your buffer, and you know how intimidating I can be.”

  Callie almost smiled. It was true; even though she was only five foot three, Caroline had an icy stare that froze most people in their tracks. Those closest to her knew it was all an act, but if anyone was going to chase people away, it would be her.

  “Fine, but you’d better not ditch me, or you will face the wrath of Callie.”

  “I would never, especially since you so sweetly agreed to come to the bachelorette party,” Caroline said slyly.

  “I said no such thing!”

  “Really, ’cause I could have sworn—”

  “That you were delusional? Yeah, I pretty much knew that.”

  Caroline huffed. “Come on! You don’t have to look; I can blindfold you. We’re only going to the strip club for an hour or so after Becca comes over to Val’s and shows us some pleasure enhancements from her shop.”

  Becca owned Sweet Tarts Boutique, a cute clothing shop with a black-curtained area filled with anything you could possibly think of to spice up a relationship. Most of the women in town loved it, even the ones who hated to admit it, but Callie had never found a reason to go in. Besides, she was more of a T-shirt and jeans kind of girl, and the clothes Becca sold were sleek and showed off a great deal of skin. Something she didn’t do anyway, not when people might start asking about her scars.

  “So basically, everyone is going to be drinking while they look at sex toys and then get all riled up watching greasy strippers . . . and then what? Are we heading to a bar too, just to strike a rowdy brawl from the bachelorette checklist?”

  “No. By that point, I imagine everyone will be so horned up, they’ll just want to go home and jump their honeys’ bones,” Caroline s
aid, amused.

  “Nice, do you have to be so crude?” Callie ground her teeth.

  “I could have said bone, singular.”

  “Ugh,” Callie said with a groan.

  “Okay, you have been in a mood all week, and I want to know what I did. Normally, you just snort and call me a pervert when I joke about this stuff, so what gives?”

  The truth sat on the edge of her tongue—that she was interested in a guy and was struggling with her feelings. But she didn’t want to have any feelings for him, and if she told Caroline, they would start analyzing, and then it would be real. It was better to just ignore and avoid, and eventually, the feelings would go away. Like a bad cold, they just needed to work their way out of her system.

  “I’ve just been tired this week. Lots of stuff on my mind. I might be coming down with something.”

  Caroline was silent, and Callie knew she didn’t believe her, but in typical fashion, she didn’t press. “Okay, well, I still think you should come to the bachelorette party and be my sober buddy. Of course, Val won’t be drinking, but she doesn’t need alcohol to get crazy.”

  “Somehow, the thought of a pregnant girl gone wild is even more disturbing than Becca bringing out the vibrators and strap-ons.”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Caroline said, looking her way. “I think Becca’s hot in a Kat Dennings, Two Broke Girls way. She’s snarky, and she’s got great boobs—”

  “Wait, you’ve checked out her boobs?” Callie coughed with laughter.

  “Hey, I can notice if a woman is pretty or not,” Caroline said defensively. “Besides, I was just thinking, you know, that you might have noticed . . . too?”

  Callie swung toward Caroline, her jaw dropping into her lap. “Are you asking if I’m gay?”

  “In a back-ass-wards way, yeah.”

  Callie couldn’t seem to shut her mouth; she was so damn surprised. Did everyone think she was gay? Not that there was anything wrong with it; she’d had plenty of gay friends growing up, and her cousin, Miranda, had been with her wife for years, but . . .

  “I’m not a lesbian,” Callie finally said.

  “Okay, I just thought—”

  “What? That because I wasn’t jumping on some guy’s jock every weekend, that I don’t like men? I like men.”

  “I’m sorry, I just—”

  “Does everyone think I’m gay?” Callie asked.

  “No! Like I said, I was just asking because, like you said, I’ve never seen you up on someone’s cock.”

  “What’s wrong with being picky or discreet?” Callie said, her voice rising. “Just because I don’t advertise my conquests, doesn’t mean I’m not getting any. I am conquering all kinds of ass.”

  “Fine, I’ll just call you Callie, the ass conqueror,” Caroline said as she parked in front of Jensen’s.

  “I’m sorry for being snotty. I just . . . it’s hard for me to open up about stuff,” Callie said.

  Caroline turned the car off and twisted in the seat to face her. “And I get that, believe me. The past is a murky pile of shit, but I figured after being friends for a while, I’d eventually know something personal about you. Like whether or not you were into dudes or had a boyfriend.”

  “Believe me, I like dudes. I’m just not . . . dating anyone,” Callie said quickly, but something struck her about how Caroline had said it. “Did someone ask if I was seeing anyone?”

  “Well, actually, Jenny Andrews, who is living with Ellie, mentioned that her friend was interning for you and that he talks about you all the time,” Caroline said before opening the car door.

  “Dalton?” Callie laughed.

  “Yeah, I think that was his name. Anyway, she thought he might have a crush on you, and I thought you might want to know. In case he’s cute.”

  “Are you kidding me? He’s a kid! Barely legal!”

  “That didn’t stop Mrs. Robinson.” Caroline winked in the dome light.

  “Gross, dude; you are a perve.”

  “There’s my friend, Callie. I missed her.”

  Caroline climbed out of the car, and Callie followed suit.

  “Look, I prefer men. I like them older, taller, and I like a nice set of broad shoulders.”

  And if he has light brown eyes and an easy smile, all the better.

  “Oh, yum. Who would have thought we’d have the same type?” Caroline opened the door to the restaurant and held it for Callie.

  Callie walked through, talking over her shoulder to Caroline. “Wrong. You like bad boys with motorcycles. I prefer nice guys who—”

  Callie walked smack into someone. “Oh, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying”—Callie looked up into Everett’s light brown eyes and swallowed hard—“attention.”

  How had this happened? What were the odds?

  “We have to stop meeting like this.”

  “HEY, EVERETT.”

  Everett looked beyond Callie to find Caroline holding the door open. He took a step back, pulling Callie along with him and almost plowed into his dad.

  “Sorry, Dad.”

  “It’s all right, son.”

  But Everett wasn’t even looking at Fred, although he was suddenly glad he’d decided to go to dinner with him. With Justin and Valerie doing a bunch of wedding and baby stuff, he and his dad were left to their own devices most nights. He’d been ready to make a frozen pizza and read, but his dad had convinced him that Jensen’s sounded better than anything in his fridge.

  Who would have thought it would lead to bumping into Callie and having her just about fall into his arms?

  “Hey, Caroline,” Everett said before his gaze strayed back to Callie. Caroline had been to the farm many times because of Val, so he didn’t need to introduce her, but he was excited for his dad to meet Callie. It was stupid and corny, but he wanted his dad to like her too.

  “Callie, this is my father, Fred. Dad, this is Callie Jacobsen. She is the deejay Val and Justin hired.”

  Callie looked a bit like a deer in the headlights for a moment, but then she surprised the hell out of him by smiling brightly at his dad. Her lips wobbled a little, but she reached out her hand to Fred. “Hi, Fred. How are you?”

  Fred pulled Callie in for a hug, further shocking Everett. “I’m good, Callie girl. Just had a big dinner and discussed the Harvest Festival next week. Everett isn’t much for crowds but has agreed to help set up, since it’s such a big job.”

  “That’s wonderful. Caroline was just telling me about it in the car. I’ll still see you Monday, though?”

  “What?” Caroline’s jaw dropped open.

  Everett was right there with her. There was such an ease between his father and Callie; it was like they were old friends. And what was Monday?

  “Of course, but why don’t we get out of the doorway and sit down? We already ate, but I wouldn’t mind some pie and coffee,” Fred said, crooking his elbow for Callie.

  Callie looked up at Everett, and her teeth were worrying her lip, as if she was waiting for him to protest.

  He wanted to know how the hell they knew each other and why Fred hadn’t mentioned it before. Why hadn’t she mentioned it?

  “How do you two know each other?”

  Callie hesitated before straightening her shoulders and meeting his gaze. “I’m your father’s AA sponsor.”

  Everett looked between them in disbelief. “That’s a joke, right?”

  “Why would I think that was funny?”

  She was serious. When they’d met, and she’d said she’d heard about him—had she been talking about his dad? What had he said about him?

  And after everything that had happened with his dad growing up—the drinking, the late-night pickups, the drunken fights and hungover I’m sorrys. How could he be drawn to a woman like her?

  And how could she be his father’s sponsor? What was she, thirty? How the hell did she have the experience to mentor a man twice her age?

  The room started closing in on him, and he couldn’t breathe. The three of them were
staring at him now like he was crazy, like he was the one acting weird, but how was anything about this normal? Of all the fucked-up coincidences . . .

  Then it struck him. She’d known. This whole time he’d been flirting with her, pouring his heart out and apologizing to her for keeping Rhett a secret, she’d been hanging onto this.

  He had to get out of there. If he didn’t, he was going to lose his shit. Everett wasn’t much for shows of temper, but the rage, the disappointment, the hurt . . . it was just too intense. Too much.

  “I . . . I can’t deal with this.”

  Everett turned, furious with himself and Callie, and passed Caroline, who was still holding the door. It was bad enough worrying about his own lineage and addictive personality, but fall for a person who already had those problems? How fucked up would it be to get involved with Callie and try to build a life together, only to have it all fall apart later when she fell off the wagon?

  He wasn’t even thinking as he climbed into his truck. If his dad wanted to have pie and coffee with her, then she could drive him home.

  AT HOME, TWO hours later, he still couldn’t wrap his head around it. Lights passed by, and he looked out the window but couldn’t see anything. He was tempted to walk over to his dad’s place in the dark and have it out with him, but suddenly, the headlights were back. Only this time, they were pointed directly into his window.

  Shit.

  A soft knock on his door told him it wasn’t his dad, and he took a deep breath before opening it.

  Callie stood there, the porch light illuminating her nervous smile.

  “Caroline dropped me and your dad off at my place, and I brought him home.”

  “Thanks,” he said.

  She was doing that hand-twisting thing again, and he waited for the apology he knew was coming.

  “You know it was immature to just take off and leave him, right?”

  “Excuse me?” He hadn’t been expecting that.

  “Just because you found out something you didn’t like, you took off and left your dad stranded. It was thoughtless and rude, and you should be ashamed of yourself.”

  “What about you?”

  “What about me?”

  “You go off on me about not telling you I was Rhett. Meanwhile you’re going to AA with my dad, having some kind of weird relationship with him, and you don’t think that’s something I should have known?”