Calendar Girl: October: Book 10 (11 page)

Wes nodded and pursed his lips so hard they turned white. He let go of my hand, stood up, and paced behind the couch, looking out the window every so often. “I could have hurt her. I wrapped a hand around her neck.” He said the words as if they were covered in vomit. Disgusting and vile. “Then I tried to get between her thighs. They did that! They did that to Gina!” He grabbed the hair at his temples and shook his head much harder than any sane person would. “And I tried to do it to Mia. God! What is wrong with me?” he cried out.

The doctor was up and to him before I could even grasp all that he’d said. She murmured something to him and brought him back to sit down. “Weston, sometimes when we are locked in a terror, our minds recreate extraordinary events to rewrite it in a way. This experience might have been a way for your mind to deal with what you saw. Mia, do you believe Weston was trying to harm you?”

I shook my head emphatically. “No. Absolutely not. The second I hollered his name, it was like the flicking of a switch, but I fear that last night was a major setback, and we’re hoping you can help him work through some of these issues,” I added, while scooting closer to Weston. He looked miserable, practically cowering in his corner on the other side of the couch. The moment I got to him, he looped an arm around my shoulders and buried his face into my neck.

“God, I’m so lucky to have you. Mia, baby…”

I petted his cheek and locked eyes with Dr. Shofner. “I know. We’ll get through this. Together.”

T
he last week
of October Wes was going to Dr. Shofner three times a week. His choice. She told him he’d need extensive therapy to start on the path toward healing. My guy was all in. The other addition to our routine was the little white sleeping pills he now took before bed each night. Apparently, Wes demanded the doctor give him something that would knock him out.

As much as I would miss our middle of the night wild sex, I wouldn’t miss the reason behind it. Also, it gave the extra added benefit of getting a full, uninterrupted six to seven hours sleep. After a single week of a good night’s rest and a man not worried about attacking me in my sleep, it was like the two of us were entirely new people. The world was our oyster, and we were going to live it. Finally.

Wes and I got up pretty early in the morning, made love, an extra bonus, and then we surfed. I’d head off to work or to the converted spare room that was now my personal office, and Wes would head to the gym, stay on the beach, or sometimes putter around in his den. There was still no talk of the movie that had been almost complete or whether he’d be writing anything in the near future. It wasn’t as though he needed the money. His home and vehicles were paid off, and he had investments up the wazoo. According to Wes, neither of us needed to worry about money for the rest of our lives and we’d still live comfortably. That wasn’t enough for me. It wasn’t the money I was worried about. It was Wes and his drive, ambition, life’s work. Eventually, he and the doc would need to work on this topic, but right now, healing from the trauma was paramount.

Another unfortunate side effect to Wes being home and going through post-traumatic stress therapy was the many days I’d come home to him and Gina on the couch or patio deck laughing. Judi would carry a scowl the moment I’d enter as if I were allowing him to ruin us. What she didn’t understand was that nothing was going to get between Wes and me. It was too late. We were now each other’s true north. Did I like seeing Gina DeLuca, the woman he’d spent a few months causally fucking? No, I did not. Did the doctor tell me repeatedly it was part of his healing as much as hers? Yes, yes she did. So unfortunately, I grinned and bore it. I could suffer through anything as long as Wes was on the path to finding his happiness.

Now that it was the end of the month, I had something amazing to look forward to. Yes, I’d be starring on the Dr. Hoffman show twice a week as well as the Friday fifteen-minute segment, but also, today, Ginelle was set to arrive. I could hardly frickin’ wait! Having my best friend a total of fifty feet down the stone path to the guest house was going to settle me in a way I’d never thought possible.

The moment I heard a car pull onto the gravel, I jumped up from the patio chair and started at a full run. I could hear Wes explaining the bizarre reaction to Gina as she sipped her Chardonnay.

“Her best friend is moving here from Las Vegas and staying in the guest house,” I heard him say as I slid on my Christmas socked feet along the tile in the entry.

Ripping open the door, there she stood, her hand held up in a fist to knock. “What the hell are you doing here, you fugly whore!” I opened my arms wide and she ran into them.

“God you smell bad.” She inhaled deeply into my hair and squeezed the bejesus out of me. “Shower much?” She pulled back and grinned but kept her hands on my face. “You look good…for a hobag. Jeez, I missed your skanky ass. Do you know how hard it is to catch a guy’s eyes when you don’t have a pancake ass to compare to all this”—she ran her hands down her petite but busty frame—“playing wing woman?” Gin’s eyes moistened and tears threatened.

“So sucky for you! And don’t you dare let your eyes water!” I pouted and yanked her into another full body hug. She was so tiny compared to my larger frame, and by the current standards I was pretty average.

Wes clearing his throat prevented us from throwing additional barbs at one another. Turning, I smiled wide and presented Gin. “Wes, baby, this is my best friend, Ginelle. Gin, meet Weston Channing, the third.”

Wes mouthed “the third” and winked at me. “It’s good to meet you.” He held out a hand.

Ginelle didn’t say anything. Her mouth was open, her eyes bugging out of her head. “Hot damn, my panties are wet. Wait, I’m not wearing any. My invisible panties are wet!”

I closed my eyes and silently steamed. Wes howled with laughter. He grabbed Ginelle and brought her into his arms. She rubbed her tiny body all over my man. Had it been anyone but
her
trying to cop a feel, I’d have been furious and downright deadly. But since I knew she was doing it more to get my goat than anything else, I pretended to ignore it.

“Um, okay, that’s, uh, enough hugging.” He pried Gin off his body. She made a point of grabbling the front of his shirt trying to keep him close. Clinging like a leech.

Shaking my head, I smacked at her hands. “Get your own,” I scolded playfully, and she pouted.

“What kind of friend are you? You’re dating movie-making Malibu Ken, and you don’t have any dolls for me to play with?” she mumbled and crossed her arms.

Of course that’s when Gina made her appearance, gripping her purse. Gin took in her beautiful body, perfect hair, teeth, clothes, and makeup and hooked a thumb over her shoulder. “Who’s that? Brunette Barbie?”

I laughed but bit my tongue when I saw Gina frown. She’d been through enough. “Ginelle, this is Gina DeLuca, Wes’s friend.”

The instant recognition dawned on Ginelle, and I knew it was going to be bad. Her eyes narrowed and her body went stiff. “You mean this fuck—”

I slammed a hand over her mouth, but she kept spouting profanity, defending what she thought was my honor while trying to break free. I had a solid forty pounds on the lean five footer. Holding her off had become a specialty after all these years.

“Um, good to see you guys. Gin’s tired, long trip. I’ll just show her to her place.” I was physically dragging her out the front door, her heels dragging along the floor. Once we got outside, she pushed me.

“What the hell was that? That cunt is in there acting like a friend when he was sticking it to her only a few months ago! I can’t believe you even allow her in your house. Are you insane?”

I sighed and dragged her to her place. “No, I’m not insane. We’re gonna need some serious booze for this discussion though.” I made my way over to the booze hutch that I had Judi fill. Gin’s eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. I snorted. “Do you like your new abode?” I splayed my hand out like Vanna White.

Gin took in the place. It was considered a one-bedroom studio, so it had a small kitchenette, living room, and separate bedroom and single bathroom. Perfect for a young woman starting her life over.

“It’s bigger than my place back in Vegas. Are you really sure you want me here? What happened in there, yeah, that could happen at any time.” She shook her head. She really wasn’t apologetic. That was not her style. She rarely apologized for who she was.

I looped an arm around her shoulders and knocked heads. “I know, and I love you just the way you are. But we have a lot to talk about so you know how to deal with certain situations.”

I handed her a Vodka and cranberry, and we sat on the plush couch and I told all. By the end of it, we were both yawning and had gone through a couple crying jags. It was almost cathartic, getting it all out to someone who knew me. Someone who’d known me almost my entire life and wouldn’t judge, question, or see me in a negative light. Gin was just there for me, and now, I’d be there for her as she healed through her experience. Maybe I could get her to go see Anita Shofner, too. Therapist extraordinaire. I’d bring it up later but not now. I wanted to let her get settled first.

“So you’re going to be okay here?” I crossed my fingers and hoped she really would stick it out.

“Mia, I needed this change. It was time to leave it all behind. The crummy job, the feelings of uselessness, missing you, and living in the same shithole day in and day out. It was time for an adventure. I’m ready to see where life takes me here in California.”

“I’ll tell you this. If I’ve learned one thing from this year, it’s to trust the journey.” I pointed down to my foot, and she grinned wickedly at the tattoo I’d come to make my personal theme song.

“Any tattoo parlors in the area?” She waggled her eyebrows, the impulsive minx.

I nodded, hooked my arm and waited for her to slip hers through it. All thoughts of going to bed gone with the mere suggestion of getting her inked up. “Yes, I do believe there is one.”

Ginelle grinned beautifully. She’d always been lovely, and now she was here, with me, about to start her life over. And this time, I’d be there to help her.

“Lead the way.” She gestured to the door, and a feeling of absolute light rushed through me.

“This time, I will lead the way.” I meant every word. After ten months of doing what I was told, going here, there, being hired to be something to save someone else, I was tired of following. From here on out I was the leader of my own destiny.

“
W
hen are
we meeting with your friends?” Wes asked, a hint of irritation in his tone. His reaction to seeing Anton again and meeting Mason was odd. My guy had always been really down to Earth and comfortable in his own skin. Only after the experience in Indonesia, he still hadn’t gotten completely back to his easy going self. His therapist assured me it took time and to continue to give him something good to focus on.

“This evening we’re meeting with Anton and Heather. He’s planned dinner for us at his pad. Mace and Rach don’t come in until later in the week.” What I didn’t tell Wes was that Anton had offered us the use of his penthouse in Manhattan for our stay, but I knew Wes wouldn’t be thrilled. When we were in Miami, he liked Anton well enough, but that was when we were just admitting our love for one another. We were too busy worrying about what the other thought to be concerned with anyone else around us.

Taking our time, we unpacked, showered, and made love. I could feel the tension seep right out of Weston’s pores when he released inside of me, words of love spilling from his lips.

While I lay there catching my breath, a Mia blanket over my man, I felt Wes lift my left hand, bring it to his lips, and kiss each finger. Then the sneaky bastard slid something weighted over my bare ring finger.

“When are we going to get married?” he asked out of the blue. We were both naked, had just had some intensely pleasurable, drowsy after-travel-sex, and I lay limp on top of his chest. I’d ridden him for all I was worth and would likely have the finger print marks on each hip to prove it.

I blinked and pushed my hair out of my face, setting one hand on top of the other over his heart. I liked feeling his heart beat under me. Reinstated the fact that he was alive, his heart was pumping, and it belonged to me.

“Is that a proposal?” I smirked.

His eyes narrowed, and he tipped his chin toward my hand. I looked down at the band of diamonds sparkling back at me.

“We’ve already discussed this.” He added, “You know that you’re never getting asked. You don’t have the option to decline.” His words were firm, and unrelenting.

Pushing up, I sat naked on top of him and focused all my attention on the most exquisite ring I’d ever seen adorning my finger. It was a single band of diamonds all the way around. It wasn’t ostentatious like most engagement rings. No, this one was simple yet sparkly. A hundred twinkly diamonds filled the inside of a band that wrapped all the way around my finger. It wouldn’t get caught on anything. I could still ride Suzi without worrying about my riding gloves…it was simply perfect.

Tears filled my eyes. “So you’re really not going to ask me?” I choked back a little sob while staring at what was obviously an engagement ring.

He sat up, looped an around my back, pushed into his heels, and propelled us backwards until he was sitting up against the headboard.

He tunneled his fingers into the back of my hair, keeping my face level with his. “Do you really need me to ask?” His eyes were a brilliant green as he forced me to look him in the eye.

“Need, no. Want…kind of.” I admitted while water leaked from my eyes.

Wes signed and rubbed our foreheads together. “Don’t make me regret this,” he whispered, his own voice shaking with the unspoken emotion. “Mia, my love, my life. Will you marry me?”

I looked into his eyes and could see how worried he truly was that I would say no. Not in a million flippin’ years would I deny sealing this man to me for eternity. “Instead of another ring, can I have another motorcycle?”

Wes blinked, tipped his head back, and laughed.

I kissed his chest as he lost it, pecking and nipping my way up his neck and to his ear. “Yes, baby. I’ll marry you.”

His arms got really tight around me. “I’m going to make you so happy.”

I looked him dead in the face. “Then you are getting me a new motorcycle?” I responded hopefully.

He shook his head and kissed me. He kissed me over and over until my mouth was so bruised I could barely feel his lips pressed to mine.

“When?” he growled into my ear moving his way down to my bare breasts. Looked like round two was commencing now.

“Um…next year?” I answered, gripping his head to my breast as he latched onto one erect peak.

“Mmm. Okay, January first it is.”

He plucked my other nipple and sucked hard on the first. “Oh, yeah.” I moaned. “Wait…what?”

C
ontinued in November Calendar Girl
. Available now for purchase