Chapter 14
Calida
I laid on the bed watching as Shawn played with the big block Legos. He grinned proudly every time he managed to stack one on top of the other. Staying a week with my parents was not ideal, but they refused to let me go home until I was better, and I found it easier not to fight. It was a help, as I couldn’t pick up Shawn without it hurting like hell. Plus, no matter how old you are, sometimes it’s nice to have your mom cook for you. Especially when she was a great cook like mine.
The downside was having Mom ask me a million and one questions whenever I’d avoid Malcolm’s calls. He’d come by only once, but didn’t stay long, because I’d told him I’d taken one of my pain pills and needed a nap. Mom fussed at me for lying, since my pain pills didn’t really put me to sleep. I ended up taking a nap because I didn’t want to listen to her tell me about what a great guy he was. I knew that. He could be everything I’d ever wanted in a man, or thought I wanted. But how could I fully trust him when I sure as hell couldn’t trust myself?
A soft knock at the door was followed by Mom popping her head into the room.
“Dinner’s ready.”
Shawn carefully climbed down off the bed, knocking Legos off in the process.
“Nana, see,” he said, proudly holding up his creation of three blocks stacked together.
She bent down to pick him up. “Aw, good job, my smart boy.”
I eased off the bed, and followed behind them. I was so grateful that the soreness was no longer as intense. If I moved the wrong way, I’d still got a sharp pain, but for the most part I was well enough to go home in the next day or two. Down the hall, and through the living room, I joined my parents in their large, open-concept kitchen.
“How you feeling, babygirl?” Dad pulled out my chair. He gave my shoulders a squeeze and kissed the top of my head.
Lasagna. The meal Mom reserved for “special occasions.” Three adults, yet four plates were on the table. I stared at her back as she buckled Shawn into his high chair.
“Better. I’m thinking we’ll head home tomorrow.”
“Nonsense,” he retorted. “You two should stay a while longer.”
“Us or Shawn?” I asked, eyeing him suspiciously.
He laughed, and picked up his glass of sweet tea.
“Mom, are we expecting a guest?”
No sooner than the question was asked did the doorbell ring. She smiled then went to answer. When I heard Mal’s voice, I knew exactly what she’d done.
“Always meddling.”
Dad chuckled in response. “You know your mother.”
Mal walked in laughing at something Mom had said. Dad stood to greet him, and Shawn started squirming in his chair from excitement. What was it about that man that had my entire family on his side? Not that they knew there were sides to be had, but still. After he said his hello to Shawn, Mal looked over at me. I knew I needed to stand or say something, but I didn’t.
Instead, I took in the sight of him. His dreads were actually hanging free instead of being pulled back like normal. They’d grown and now hung past his broad shoulders. The dark blue Guess T-shirt was loose fitting but tight enough to hint at a well-toned physique. The light-wash jeans were a relaxed fit, and I couldn’t help but notice how nicely he filled them out from the back side. Mal walked over to where I sat, and when he leaned to kiss the top of my head, the smell of his cologne surrounded me. It wasn’t an artificial smell. No, it was clean, crisp, and undeniably male. Did he always smell that good?
His fingers ran across the now-fading bruise on my cheek, his touch left behind an acute awareness on my skin. “How you feeling?”
I looked up and smiled. “Better. Still sore in some places, but—” I turned to look at Dad, “—going home soon.”
Dad’s eyes widened, and he threw his hands up in surprise. “Why was that directed at me?”
“Because you’re trying to hold me hostage,” I teased.
“I’m glad you’re feeling better. Dinner looks great, Sandy,” Malcolm commented as he took his seat across from me. “I haven’t had a home-cooked meal in a while.”
“That is a shame. Calida has become a better cook, so she can keep you well fed.”
“What? Why am I responsible for cooking for him? He’s a grown man fully capable of cooking if he wanted.”
“Well, dear, if he’s anything like your father, you don’t want him in the kitchen.”
Dad and Mal laughed. I was stuck in the twilight zone, and missing the cosmic joke of my life. Most of dinner I spent trying my best to keep my focus on Shawn and ignoring the man sitting across from me. After dinner, I attempted to help Mom clean up, but she shooed me away. She said I had company to entertain. I wanted to retort that she invited him so she should do the entertaining, but I bit my tongue and headed into the family room where the guys were.
Dad and Mal were on the floor with Shawn playing with cars.
“Care to join us?” Mal asked when he saw me.
“No.” I shook my head. “Can I borrow you for a moment?”
“Sure.” He ruffled Shawn’s hair before walking over to me. “What’s up?”
“Take me for ice cream.”
“Okay.”
Music came blaring out of the speakers when Mal started his truck.
“How do you listen to that crap, and so loud?”
“It’s not crap,” he retorted, turning the volume down. “You need to have a better appreciation for Kendrick Lamar.”
“Do I?”
“Yes.” He gave me his signature boyish grin before cranking the volume back up.
The bass of his stereo system vibrated through the truck making my chest feel strange. How was he not deaf? The stereo in his Land Rover rivaled that of any night club or maybe it was because of the concentrated space it felt so much louder. I had to laugh when he started rattling off the lyrics of the song, words I couldn’t even understand. His head bopped along to the beat in perfect rhythm as he seat-danced for the duration of the ten-minute drive to Bruster’s.
“I choose the music on the way home,” I said when he turned the car off.
“You know you enjoyed the show,” he replied with a wink.
We got our ice cream then headed over toward one of the benches.
“You have a sweet tooth?” he asked before taking a lick of his chocolate.
“Not really, but I needed out of the house. Call it a jail break,” I answered with a small laugh before tasting my cotton candy explosion.
Mom kept watching me and asking if I felt dizzy. They were still worried as to why I’d passed out. I wished I could tell them I was having the panic attacks again, the few I’d had around them were never that bad. They’d happened before I’d begun therapy. I was lucky—if I could even use that word—because the worst of it came when I was alone, mostly at night. Plus, telling them would trigger a slew of why questions I didn’t want to answer. I certainly didn’t want Malcolm to know how big a role he was playing in my apparent ungluing. It wasn’t fair to him that I couldn’t keep it together. After all, he wasn’t really doing anything wrong.
“Mom’s been a bit overzealous in her need to take care of me.” I held up my arm, which was partially covered in the brace. “It’s a sprain, but she’s been acting like it’s broken, and I’m unable to do anything for myself.”
“Ah, well she’s just worried.” He paused. “We all are.”
I focused on my ice cream. “I know.”
I took another lick of my ice cream before getting up to throw it away.
“Didn’t like it?”
“Not really. I really should stick to what I know instead of trying new things.”
“Trying new things isn’t always bad,” he replied with a smirk.
“Are we still talking about ice cream?”
“If you like,” he answered, taking another lick of his.
Watching him do that gave me a feeling I’d not experienced in a long time, an instant warming sensation between my legs. I pressed them together as I inched away from him. Malcolm sat with his arm lying on the back of the bench, his long legs stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankle, and he was completely unaware of how his innocent actions were bringing to life feelings I’d thought were dead and buried.
Malcolm continued to enjoy his ice cream as he looked around at the other patrons scattered about. He even started humming while taking slow, long licks. While his attention was on our surroundings, mine was on his mouth. The way his tongue curled just a bit right before it retreated back into his mouth. The way his lips puckered when he moved to catch a falling drip of his treat. The memories of the few kisses we’d shared made their way to the forefront, and I found myself actually wanting to experience one right then. What the hell was wrong with me?
“So,” he said, turning his attention back to me, but his words stopped and the most delicious smile spread across his face.
Mine heated up in response, and quickly diverted my eyes. Longer hair would have been ideal in that moment, so it could help hide my embarrassment.
Malcolm slid closer to me. “Would you like some?”
I shook my head.
“Are you sure?” he teased. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him take another deliberately slow lick of his ice cream. “I think you picked the wrong flavor. Seems to me you are most certainly a lover of chocolate.”
“Chocolate is actually kind of plain for my liking,” I countered, looking up to see the playful gleam in his eyes.
“Chocolate is never plain,” he said, lowering his voice. “It’s flavorful, rich, and…deeply fulfilling.” That last part made me shudder involuntarily.
“And here I thought you might be a vanilla type of guy.”
The smile on his face got wider. “I do love vanilla just as much. Sweet, creamy, and an absolute delight on my tongue.”
I shifted on the bench and crossed my legs. “How do you make eating ice cream sound so sexual?”
“I’m merely commenting on the flavors I enjoy. If you’re picking up any sort of double meanings, it’s not my fault your mind is in the gutter.” He winked and held the cone closer to my mouth. “Try some, you know you want to.” A wicked smile played on his lips.
The lower half of my body contracted, and I pressed my lips together. What the hell was it with this man that managed to affect me in such a way? The idea of sex, of wanting it, used to make my stomach turn. Being vulnerable to someone in that way was something I’d told myself I’d not do again. Too many times I was a slave to my traitorous body. Never again. But being near Malcolm was messing with my head, and I found myself responding to him.
Taking a deep breath, I placed my hands over his as I leaned forward to sample the ice cream. The smile on his face widened.
“It’s very good,” I said and licked my lips.
Malcolm smiled and gave me another wink. “See, Ginger, I know exactly what you like.”
Those words were like a bungee snapping me back to reality. “I’ll be back.” Quickly, I retreated to the bathroom at the back of the small building.
I was glad it was only a one-person space. Leaning against the locked door, I took in large deep breaths. My hands trembled, and my heart rate sped up.
“Not now. Please not now,” I whispered.
Those words, that name. Malcolm had called me by that name for years, yet it took Seth less time to take something that was once meaningful and turn it into something twisted.
I walked over to the sink and splashed some cold water on my face. “You’re mine, Ginger. You’ll always be mine!” Seth’s angry declaration that night replayed in my head. Gripping the edges of the sink, I worked to force the memory away before it took control. A knock at the door startled me.
“Calida? Are you okay?”
I looked at my reflection in the mirror as I snatched a few paper towels from the holder on the wall. I blotted my face and continued to take in slow breaths.
“Yeah. I’ll be out in a sec.”