Chapter Nineteen

Tyler

“ A nd some nutmeg,” Cal throws over his shoulder as he stirs the filling for the pumpkin pies we’re making. Thanksgiving is only a week away and our customers have gone completely pumpkin crazy. We have stacks of orders for pies and everything pumpkin-y.

“Jeez, Cal-Bear,” I frown at him—or rather his butt—because I wonder if I can get away with grabbing it, pretending he’s got flour on it. My fingers have been dying to get a handful of bear butt all morning; Cal looks so yummy in jeans. The way they ride down a little when he bends over or stretches…

“What?” Cal stops what he’s doing and looks at me, his hazel eyes spilling over with warmth. And patience. Endless patience, it seems. I lean into him, hissing, “You can’t talk dirty to me when we’re at work.” I roll my eyes because I love it when Cal talks dirty to me, but still, I’m a professional. “You know I adore your nuts.” I let my gaze trail down his apron until it lands on where his goods are hidden. They’re big and hairy, and I can fit them both into my mouth if I stretch my jaw to the max. I wiggle my jaw. Yep, a little sore. “But Theresa’s out in the front with Mrs. Reynolds.” I lower my voice into a whisper. “I swear she already has it in for me, throwing bible verses at me left and right.”

“For fuck’s sake, Ty,” he grins broadly, shaking his head, his blond bangs falling into his forehead. “Not everything is about sex. It’s a nut. An actual nut. ” He crosses his arms in front of his beefy chest, nodding at the pie filling. “Pumpkins love nutmeg. Besides, Kathleen loves you,” he murmurs, taking a sip of the hot pumpkin and cinnamon Latte I proudly presented him with before. Yes, I’ve become the master of the wicked espresso machine. It’s my bitch now. My brew bitch.

“She does? Why?” I blurt. Kathleen Reynolds so doesn’t love me.

“Why not?” Cal chuckles in that low, throaty voice of his that goes straight to my nutmegs. “What’s not to love?” he reaches out and grabs the front of my apron, pulling me toward him. Shit, when he looks at me like that, it’s like he sees right into my very core. Seeing all my insecurities and shortcomings. All my fears. Because they’re still there, having a 24-hour house party in my gut.

“I don’t know,” I whisper, looking down at my orange Chucks because, you know, pumpkin season and all. Cal’s not having it, though. He tips my chin upwards with his knuckles, real movie-hero style.

“Don’t do that, baby,” he hums. I blink at him, my stupid eyes going all watery again. “Don’t make yourself into anything less than what you are.” Shit. I gulp, shifting on my feet.

“What am I?” I croak, my neediness seeping through in my voice. A fire blooms in Cal’s eyes, a curl around his mouth that I recognize as possessiveness. Cal’s a possessive motherfucker whereas Mitch is more laid-back. Leaning in against my lips, he purrs, “You’re the brattiest, most deliciously sexy, sweetest boy in the world. You’re our Ty, our baby boy, and there ain’t nothing or no one who’s ever gonna dim that light inside of you. Not on my watch. Not on Mitch’s either.” Well, fuck me. “You’re the kid who gets up every night when Bree’s gotta pee even though he’s dead on his feet because he’s been fucked so good by his Daddies.”

It’s true. I’m on pee patrol. I don’t mind. I don’t mind at all.

“Mitch hasn’t fucked me yet,” I complain.

“Are you gonna nitpick when I’m tryin’ to be all romantic?” Cal groans.

“No, Daddy,” I squeak, because dayum , I really want to climb him now, but something smells like it’s burning just a little.

“Good. Besides, he will. He’s just working up to it. It ain’t that easy for him, you know?” There’s an edge of vulnerability to Cal’s voice whenever he speaks of Mitch. I love it. I wonder what his voice sounds like when they speak of me. Probably annoyed.

“I know,” I murmur. “And I don’t mind, Daddy. Being on Team Bree at night. I love it,” I admit, my cheeks on fire.

“You love it?” Cal smiles. “Why?” Oh shit, I wasn’t expecting that, but here goes nothing.

“Because my Daddies work so hard all day and take care of me every night. So they deserve their sleep.” With a growl, Cal claims my mouth, sucking my lips into his. Plunging his tongue into my mouth, he moans around mine, imitating the way Mitch tongue fucked my hole last night. My dick recalls, too, how amazing that felt, because he’s growing all thick and heavy in my cargo pants. It’s like my groin is on fire while Cal plunders my mouth. I can even smell it burning. Shit, something’s really burning and it ain’t my pants.

“Cal, sometwin’s on fwire,” I speak around his tongue.

“I know, baby,” he hums. “Fuck, I wish I could fuck you right now,” he grits.

“No, Cal!” I push at his shoulder. “Something’s fucking burning. For real, for real.”

“Oh, shit!” he yells, inhaling. “The pies!” He flies toward the back of the kitchen where we keep the ovens, and I hurry after him, the smokey odor getting heavier as I get closer to the crime scene. Cal’s cursing, throwing charcoaled pies into the large sink, pouring water on them, smoke everywhere, making my eyes sting. Shit.

“I’m… I’m so sorry, Cal,” I cough, looking at the ruined pies. ‘You destroy everything, Tyler,’ Dale’s venomous voice echoes through my head.

“What the hell are you sorry for?” Cal looks at me, his lips all puffy from our kiss. “I forgot to set the clock,” he shrugs. “This one’s on me, baby,” he sighs. “Not you,” he stresses, wiping the back of his hand across his forehead, smearing soot across it. “Besides, it’s actually a good thing it happened.”

“It is?” I blurt lamely because I think Cal has inhaled too much smoke. He’s not making any sense.

“Yeah.” He points at the ceiling. “The sprinklers should’ve gone off and they haven’t. So we’ve definitely got a problem—” I don’t hear anything after that, because as I look up at the sprinklers, all I can think about is them going off, water cascading down Cal’s chest, soaking him completely, his white tee going all see-through, his nipples poking out through the wet fabric.

“Ty? Ty?” Cal waves his large bear paw in front of me. “Where’d you go, baby?” He frowns at me worriedly. “It’s okay. Everything’s fine. Will you get Theresa to call the company that installed the sprinkler system? She has their number.” I nod, my delicious dream running down the drain along with ruined pies and soot.

“Are they all ruined?” I ask, my eyes still itching.

“Yes.” Cal presses a tender kiss against my forehead. “It’s okay. We’ll make some new ones.”

“Okay,” I whisper, still trying to wrap my head around the fact that Cal isn’t angry with me. It’s so different from the way Dale has always made everything bad happening out to be my fault. When really, accidents happen. They do. Everything is not always my fault. It’s like I realize that now. I deflate against his chest, suddenly feeling the three times I was up last night with Bree. Tiredness invades my bones and I let Cal hold me up with his strong arms that won’t ever let me fall.

“Everything’s good, baby,” he whispers against the top of my head. “As long as you’re safe, everything’s good,” he rasps. “It’s just stuff, whereas you, Ty, you’re everything. Precious.” Precious. Everything. The words ring through my head and before I know it, I do climb him after all. With a whiny, whimpered ‘Daddy,’ I’m in his arms, my legs wrapped around his midsection as I attack his face with my mouth, showering kisses everywhere. Cal’s chest rumbles with a deep laugh as he grabs my ass, pulling me close against his chest.

“Fuck, baby,” he grits through his teeth, while another, much lighter voice blurts, “Cal, something’s bur—oh, shit!” Then everything goes quiet. Cal swallows, looking stunned at his sister who looks first concerned, then mortified, then angry as fuck. Her bottom lip trembles, her hazel eyes darkening as she looks between Cal and me. Cal’s still grabbing my ass, panic painted across his face, his heart pounding frantically against mine. I try to think. To just think of anything to say that can make this look less worse than it does. Because right now, it kind of looks like Cal’s cheating on Mitch. I can see it in Theresa’s eyes. She thinks her older brother is a cheat. And he’s not. He’s so not. Cal would never cheat. But it’s like the correct words escape me and before I know it, my mouth goes all rogue on me, and I yell, “Surprise! We’re in a throuple!”