14. Calvin

Chapter fourteen

Calvin

W hat was I doing?

"Cal? Did he hurt you?" I glanced at Steven, who was staring daggers in the direction Saul had just left, and simply gaped. Steven seemed to take my silence as agreement, even though he was the one in the wrong, and he stepped toward me. I took a step back, right into a hard body. I turned to apologize, knowing everyone was looking at me again, and saw Matt, one of the guys who drove the boats, and the one who was trying to spot dolphins for me. I blinked back tears. I was such a mess.

"Been looking for you," he rumbled. "You wanted to see my orchids?"

"Cal, wait."

I tried to take another step, but Steven grabbed my arm again. The low warning rumble that came from Matt's chest reminded me so much of another that more tears pricked my stinging eyes.

"No," I whispered, but Steven had already caught me, and my chest grew tight. He was hurting me.

"Baby, we need to talk. Let's go upstairs—"

But it wasn't Matt who stopped him. This time it was Chris. He had Steven by the back of the neck and was leading him away before I'd had a chance to process. But Chris had gone after Saul, so where was Saul? Chris turned and lifted his chin at Matt, and he seemed to take that as some sort of signal because Matt repeated, "The orchids," and stepped away.

Then Ricky stopped me, but taking one look at my face, he leaned forward and kissed my cheek. "Go."

Matt managed to get me out into reception, then he held open a door marked Staff Only. I paused, but he shrugged. "Just don't tell Daniel." I followed him to the end of the corridor, and it came out at the back of the hotel.

"Do you really grow orchids?" Because what was happening here? Not that I wasn't grateful for the rescue, but I needed to get upstairs and try to talk to Saul if I had a hope he might listen.

Matt nodded. "But that's not why we're here." He passed a small wall next to some large metal things that looked like giant trashcans, and then we could see the beach and the path that led down to the jetty.

Matt's boat was there but my eyes were glued to the hunched figure standing there, hands in his pockets, small suitcase at his feet. "You're taking him to the marina?" I choked out, inexplicably hurt when it was all my fault he was going.

"No, he hasn't asked," Matt said and turned and went back inside.

I turned back to stare at Saul, and desperately wanted to call him Daddy, but I thought I'd ruined my chances of that. I set off between the dumpsters and onto the path. I didn't think I'd made a sound, but he turned and saw me anyway.

I came to a halt a good two feet away from him, took in his blank mask, and my heart thudded. I didn't know what to say, didn't really know how I felt. I wanted his arms around me. I wanted him to tell me I was his good boy, but I had no right. Not unless I could give him what he gave me.

"I asked you before if he was who you wanted?" he growled demandingly.

I wasn't sure what I wanted, but I knew I didn't want him. "I don't want Steven."

He softened. I could see his body relax. "What do you want?"

"I don't know you," I blurted out. I knew Ricky and Chris trusted him and he was doing a job. He was just doing it too well. Dare I say? "I want someone that will stick around." It was almost a lie. I really wanted someone who would keep me, but I managed not to blurt that out as well.

"I can stick around," he said in a low voice that vibrated through me.

"You're doing a job," I challenged. He was.

Saul opened his mouth, closed it, then shook his head and took two steps away. "I don't think you're ready to hear anything I have to say. You'll get cold out here," he added without turning around. "You should go back inside where it's warm."

Still a Daddy.

I walked to the wall and perched on it. "My mom always said I was weak. She used to say how ashamed of me she was. She'd expect me to play rough with the older boys. I don't think she'd have cared if I never came home. I always wanted to sneak away and read, but if she got wasted and saw me with a book, she'd rip it up." I didn't know why I was telling him this.

"I get that," Saul said, turning around. "I get this is fast, and the weekend has messed everything up. Just tell me we can still see each other again," he almost begged.

I gazed at him. He hadn't said one word about his family. His parents. Which meant they were normal. And I didn't want pity. I just didn't know what I wanted. No, that wasn't true. I wanted Daddy back. I wanted him to make me hot chocolate and put his spare socks on me so my feet didn't get cold and beat up anyone that dared lay a finger on me. The want was so close I could almost taste it. But there was still this wall that I couldn't climb. I couldn't give my heart without being able to trust him, or was it that I needed to trust myself? I think I'd stayed with Steven because I'd been convinced no one else would ever want me. But did it matter either way when the result was the same?

"I want nothing more than to be your boy," I said, braver than I had any right to be.

"But?" It wasn't taunting, even though I wouldn't have blamed him.

"It's too quick."

He nodded. "Which is why I'm giving you room to breathe." He stepped away, but then he stopped. "No, no I'm not. I'm going because I don't think I have a chance in hell of you wanting me long term, which is your prerogative."

" I don't know ," I said, pleading almost. He looked so sad I ached at that moment to put my arms around him, but that was sending mixed messages and simply wasn't fair. "I'm such a mess."

His expression softened, and he stepped close and cupped my face. "I won't bother you until you call me." I leaned into him, unashamedly soaking up his strength until I heard a boat, and he looked back and let go.

"I'm going to move near Ricky," I rushed out, realizing this was his ride. "So, I'll probably see you with Chris," I added, a little desperately.

He glanced at the boat as it pulled up and picked up his suitcase. "Doubtful. I just quit." Then he stepped on the boat without waiting for it to even tie up.

I was curled up in a corner of the sofa in my suite the following morning when Ricky just about barged in. Chris and Ricky had come to find me briefly last night, and I'd just said I was going to bed, so they went to their room.

Ricky was in his Little Mermaid tee and matching pink frilly knickers. We'd had a Brit friend at school once, briefly, while her dad was stationed over here, and she said her Nana called panties knickers. Ricky and I adored that, and they'd been knickers ever since.

"I ordered breakfast because I'm pretty sure you didn't eat dinner."

I nodded, uncaring, to be honest. The magic wedding bubble I'd been in had burst, as Ricky said, and I was flailing around in a sea of day-old froth. Well, mist anyway. Fog, perhaps.

I sighed and threw my arm out and Ricky tutted. "No, absolutely not. There's only room for one drama queen in our relationship and it isn't you." And because I seemed to want to prove him wrong, and I'd sat all night in a corner of the huge sofa, completely and totally on my own, I burst into tears, and Ricky flung himself at me and we cuddled in a cocoon of stuffies, blankets, and snot.

I'd never been a pretty crier.

"We need a plan," Ricky declared, and I gazed at him.

"How can you make a plan from the apocalypse I just created?"

Ricky nodded as if agreeing with me, and I deflated. "What got Saul here?"

I glared at him. "Your Daddy did."

He waved his own dramatic hand. "No, I mean what characteristics got him here when he didn't know he was a Daddy or that you two were utterly perfect for each other?"

I sent him my crazy as look because what part of the weekend was perfect? Okay, so Saul was. I knew it was me that had screwed everything up. "You want me to list them?"

His eyebrows lifted. "That's not actually a bad idea."

But I shook my head. "How do I know I can trust myself?"

Ricky smiled. "You don't have to; you just need to trust your Daddy." He got out his phone. "We need a list."

"Of what?"

"Daddy characteristics. What you want in a Daddy. Go with me on this."

I thought about my perfect Daddy and who he looked a lot like. Well, pretty much identical, really, to a certain utterly amazing bodyguard I knew.

"Protective?" I offered.

"Insanely possessive and would send to their maker anyone who looked at you without total devotion," Ricky immediately shot out.

I gaped, but then I thought about it. And yes, I could get behind someone like that. I mean, they didn't have to kill anyone. Terrorizing them would suffice. "Be attentive?"

Ricky nodded and typed. "Be absolutely obsessive with your health, diet, and sleep schedule, and even make a daily timetable."

I was going to vehemently deny any such need, but somehow that turned into a tentative nod. Maybe all the prosecco yesterday had gone to my brain?

"Has a punishment tally," Ricky said. I would have probably replied, but my mind was suddenly zeroed in on that.

"What sort of punishments?" I asked breathlessly.

"Oh, spanking at a minimum. Corner time isn't fun. Trust me on that."

I blinked Ricky into focus. "Spanking?" I cleared my throat because my voice had gone incredibly high-pitched, and I remembered D— Saul saying that to me.

"Hmm," Ricky paused and pursed his lips. "We ought to open a business. We would make millions."

"What sort of business?" I asked faintly knowing once Ricky set his mind to something it was a done deal.

"Rent-A-daddy! And you're moving near me. With the cash you'll be earning, you can afford it. Saul can be our first official employee; except I think Daddy might be sending him to the jungle next week."

"What?" I almost shrieked.

"The jungle," he nodded, agreeing with himself.

I flopped back, feeling like I could throw up at the thought of man-eating-zombie spiders, flesh-ripping alligators, and swamp creatures. "Which jungle?" I asked weakly.

"The Everglades, I think."

I absorbed that. "That's in Florida."

He waved a hand. "Same thing."

Saul – TWO WEEKS LATER

I lay face down in the brush, watching the gates, my finger resting lightly on my Barrett M107. I'd never specialized officially as a sniper, but I could have done so easily. I preferred the hands-on experience I had gotten with the recruits rather than lying motionless for hours at a time with a finger on the trigger. Funny how it would come in useful now, though.

The gates opened right on time and the black Mercedes limo rolled out but taking that prick out wasn't why I was there. We wanted to make sure he left.

My priority was the four guards and their dogs, and yes that meant the caliber I had was overkill, but if the worst happened and the idiot came back in the bulletproof limo, I was ready for him. The mission was to get the Little out of the house without any loss of life, apart from the butler. The butler was as much a cruel bastard as his sick employer.

And the so-called Daddy would be dealt with later.

I'd seen the photos and wanted to get my hands around his throat. Maybe peel the skin off his dick…slowly.

One of the team members I was working with was supposed to have a way with dogs and could somehow make them go in the opposite direction. I had no idea how that would work, but while I was happy to take out sick fucks, I balked at injuring animals. I was with the team from Florida and to be honest, when Chris had the balls to call me on Monday and offer me the job, I'd gone without a backwards glance.

I'd spent all the previous week calling myself all kinds of fool for leaving. I'd worried about Calvin being on his own all Sunday night and flying home alone until, in desperation, I'd texted Ricky at the ass-crack of dawn, and he'd answered and said Operation Daddy was in hand. I had no idea what that meant, but I knew Ricky adored Calvin, so it made me feel a little better.

I watched our guys breach the house undisturbed.

"Target located." I recognized the voice in my ear as a team member called Maddox and breathed out easily, waiting for movement. "Moving out now."

The plan was to exit through the side door, and I saw two shadows moving with what was presumably the target wrapped in a blanket and being carried by one of them as they ran for the gate. The dogs and handlers were still out of sight, but then I saw the butler step out of the door.

And this guy wasn't some crusty octogenarian. He was ex-special forces, dishonorably discharged, and somehow had ended up in security and was charged with guarding the target. And by "guard" I meant torment. I saw him lift his arm and sight the still-running men with a handgun.

And I didn't feel an ounce of guilt as I pulled the trigger.

The dogs were okay, though.

I melted away as if I'd never been. We knew because of the condition the Little was in, when the guy returned, he wouldn't be calling the cops. I dodged three calls from Chris over the next week, and then I surrendered and listened to one of his many voicemails. He had another job for me and by the time I'd listened, I wanted to ram the phone down his throat.

Ricky had posted one of the wedding pics of me holding Calvin on social media, naming his new business Rent-A-Daddy . Apparently, it was officially his baby, and my chest hurt as I stared at the pic. My head was lowered, and Calvin's was buried in my neck so you couldn't see our faces, but apparently the Rent-A-Daddy business had exploded after that, and I'd received twenty-seven requests for Daddy-Duty.

I was about to call him back and say exactly what I thought of him until he sent me a contract. The money was incredible, but the real kicker was Ricky's business partner. It wasn't Chris, as I had been expecting, but C. Jennings. Calvin.

I was so screwed.