Wicked Lovers 06.5 Wicked All The Way (3 page)

Carlotta’s smile and glowing eyes didn’t make him any less
hard. Dragging in a deep breath, he forced himself to compartmentalize and
focus on the house. On the corner in an established neighborhood with mature
trees, it had a cottage feel. White with shutters in a pumpkin color. A wide
porch held up by four slender columns shielded a host of flowering plants and a
hanging bench swing. Big windows along the front, a white door with a leaded
glass inset, and decorative silvery house numbers along the front all added to
the cozy feel. It wasn’t big, but Caleb could see why Hunter would want to call
it home and maybe raise a baby or two.

“I’m sure they’ll be happy here. Let’s go see how much work
the interior needs. The exterior looks good.”

“The grass needs cutting.” She pulled out a little notebook
from her purse, along with a pen, and started making notes. “The little
detached garage out back probably needs a coat of paint.”

Caleb cocked his head to look down the line of the house.
She was right. “I’ll take care of that.”

“They are lucky to have you.” She smiled. “Helping, I mean.”

Yeah, because Carlotta could have him any way she wanted if
she’d just say the word.

That wasn’t happening anytime soon. Sighing, he stepped out
of the truck and jogged around the front. Carlotta had opened her door and was
trying to hop to the ground in not-quite-practical heels and another one of
those skirts that hugged her ass and drove him insane.

What he really wanted to do was put his arms around her
waist and lift her against him. But she shot him another one of those skittish
stares, so he merely offered her a hand. She took it, and her soft heat was a
jolt through his system. Jesus, as if he could get much harder. The moment her
feet steadied on the ground, Caleb forced himself to turn away and headed for
the house.

Heading up the little walkway, he fished out the keys Hunter
had given him and pushed open the front door. That’s where the charm ended. He
passed through a little foyer. Dark and cramped, with a strange little half
wall that supported spindles up to the ceiling, it cut the opening off from the
rest of the house. Maybe if there’d been a coat closet or something functional,
he could see the purpose. But at six foot three, all he felt was cramped.

The parquet floors had seen better decades. Someone had
broken into the house at some point and spray painted an interesting collection
of obscenities low on the half wall.

“Oh, dear.” Carlotta’s voice shook.

That was one way of putting it. “I vote we rip out this
pointless wall. It’s not load bearing.”

“It makes the house feel smaller.”

“Right.” Caleb wandered further inside. “The fireplace needs
a good scrub.”

She nodded. “Everything needs new paint.”

True enough. The work of the graffiti artists continued.
Their vocabulary belonged in the gutter. Carlotta winced.

“I’ll definitely take care of that, too. I’m
guessing…kitchen off to the left?” He put a hand to the small of her back and
led her away from the insults in red-spray paint.

But the kitchen wasn’t any better. Several of the cabinets
hung crooked, dangling by a single nail. Some of the doors had been torn off,
the shelves ripped out. The sink was filthy. The refrigerator had been rolled
to the middle of the floor. Caleb was almost afraid to open it. He filed that
project in the
later
category, then
opened a mystery door, expecting a pantry. Instead, he peeked down, flipped on
the switch just inside.

“What is it?”

“Attic.”

Caleb took a couple of steps up and surveyed the room.
“Partially. Someone left a bunch of junk here, but it wouldn’t take much to
toss it out and finish the room off.”

It wasn’t a huge space, but he could think of a use or two
that would make Hunter and Kata happy.

Stomping back down, he turned off the light, then guided
Carlotta into the dining room. Other than thrashed carpet and another multi-colored
paint job, there was nothing wrong with the room. Down a little hall, and he
ran into one bedroom with a cracked window, another one with a large closet
that needed a little drywall repair, and the master bathroom, which had some
water damage around the shower. This was more than a weekend project…but he
liked the challenge.

Caleb glanced over to find Carlotta hesitant, then furiously
writing on her notepad. “You okay?”

She blinked at him as if coming out of her own world. “Fine,
yes. All is well. Ideas flying in my head. This bedroom and bathroom should be
spa colors. The bedroom just across the hall would make a lovely nursery. Kata
has a love of white kitchens. White cabinets with a white, solid surface
countertop. Something with streaks of gray or earth tones. Once we have that in
place, I’ll have a better idea what color to paint the walls and what
backsplash to choose. Something glass would be nice because she likes sparkle,
but we will see what is available. What flooring did Hunter choose for the
room? Did he leave us a budget?”

“Hardwoods. Yes, I’ve got it. How about we discuss more over
lunch? I’m starving. You can tell me your ideas.”

“You go ahead. I have too much to write out to leave now. I
will be fine here.” Subject dismissed in her mind, Carlotta turned with pen in
hand and headed out the bedroom door.

Caleb frowned and gripped her elbow. His hand was gentle,
but she wasn’t getting away. “Did you eat breakfast?”

“I usually skip it.”

He knew his frown became a glower, but he found her skipping
meals unacceptable. “Not with me, you don’t. And you won’t be skipping lunch,
either.”

“I am a grown woman. I do not need you to tell me when to
eat.”

Wincing, Caleb let go of her arm. Since divorcing the
ex-douche bag, Carlotta had guarded her independence zealously. Ordering her
trampled on that. But he couldn’t let her simply have her way.

“We have hours of very hard work ahead of us. You need to
fuel your body or you’ll be exhausted in an hour or two.”

Her eyes sharpened, large brown pools that seemed to have no
end. He could fall in there if it meant staring at her gorgeous face for the
next hundred years. Time had been kind to her. The small lines around her eyes
were faint. Her lips were still a plump, red bow. The curves of her breasts and
hips were voluptuous. In the past two years, she’d grown her hair out so that
it brushed over her shoulder caps in fat curls he wanted to bury his hands in
as he guided her to his lips, his cock…

“I often eat but one meal a day. With hips such as these, I
can afford to skip meals.”

She spoke the words wryly and meant them as a joke, but they
just pissed Caleb off.

“Not when you’re with me.” He brought her closer. “I still
remember that fragile woman Hunter took from Gordon’s house. He brought you to
me and put you in my care. It’s my duty to watch over and protect you. My son
and your daughter would not be happy with me if I allowed you to run yourself
down. I’ll let you pick out whatever food you’d like, but we’re eating now.”

Carlotta dug in her very sexy heels. “I do not appreciate
your bossiness.”

“It’s not the first time, and I doubt it will be the last.”

Caleb ushered her out the door. She stomped and huffed, and
in truth, he had to work not to laugh…and be a little proud. When Hunter had
first brought her to his house, she’d been meek and willing to accept anything
in order not to create waves. And to look at her asserting herself now? It made
his cock hard. Then again, everything about her did.

Herding her out to the truck, he helped her up, then hopped
into the driver’s side. “Where’s a good place to eat? I figure you used to live
here, so you’d probably know. Have a favorite?”

She still seemed put out with him, but did answer. “One of
my favorite places is very near here. At the end of the street, take a right.
In two stoplights, head left. I will tell you when to stop.”

Fair enough.
He
followed directions and found himself parallel parking in the middle of a
little downtown district that had been revitalized with unique shops, antique
stores, a cupcake bakery, and… “Primrose and Saxby’s?”

Despite the rundown brick building, the lacy curtains
screamed feminine and delicate. Carlotta sent him a coy smile as she approached
the stained glass door.

Caleb pulled it open for her and a blast of sweet-smelling
air hit him immediately. Flowers—and lots of them. Scented candles added
another cloying note to the pungent, barfworthy fragrance. And
lots
of estrogen. Old-fashioned jewelry
filled glass cases, framed by overflowing antiques that looked a hell of a lot
like junk to him. And goddamn dolls everywhere in frilly dresses and dainty
shoes with unblinking glass eyes.
Oh,
hell.
What did women see in places like this?

A woman in a Victorian dress showed them to their table. A
man in a tuxedo serenaded the crowd, singing sappy love songs and doing his
best Barry White imitation. The menu consisted of items like chicken chutney
salad, afternoon tea finger sandwiches, basil cheese tarts, and cream of leek
soup. Carlotta pressed her lips together, looking exactly like the cat who
swallowed the canary.

The waitress took their order, and he’d been thrilled to
find a burger on the menu. Not his first choice, but the rest of this bird food
would wear off in a couple of hours. Carlotta ordered a turkey swiss wrap and a
lemon scone with clotted cream.

Caleb had no idea what that was precisely, but he had to
admit that the food was actually pretty edible, even if the music made him want
to vomit. She offered him half of the scone thing, which looked a bit like a
hard turnover to him. He declined, and she bit into the scone. The look on her
face as she did, the moan, the way she nibbled and licked her lips… Hell, did
she have any idea how close he was to plucking her up from her chair, laying
her across the table, and tearing her clothes off?

Gnashing his teeth as she spooned on some of that sweet
white cream and finished the little dessert, he counted the minutes until he
could escape this joint and get her alone.

“Did you used to come here a lot?” he asked to keep her
talking. If they were having a conversation, they couldn’t be fucking—at least
in theory. He could think of a lot of things he’d like to say to her while
buried deep.

A smile spread across her beautiful face. God, those plump
lips he wanted to own with his own mouth, his cock, his…

Stop.
He had to
yank his head out of her pussy, at least figuratively. If he ever got there
literally, he probably wouldn’t come up for air for a long fucking while.

“Never,” she admitted softly.

But she’d wanted to torture him a bit for forcing her to eat
and make him regret bending her to his will. This place definitely wasn’t his
speed, but he wasn’t going to wish he’d left her hungry.

“But I always wanted to come here. It looked…interesting.”

Caleb frowned. “Then why didn’t you?”

As soon as he asked the question, he knew the answer.
Carlotta merely confirmed it.

“Gordon would say it is stupid to waste money on food I
could cook better. He would say that the place is silly with its lace and dolls
and the singer.” She shrugged. “I would not want to come to such a place every
day, but every so often would be nice.”

And the ex-douche bag had been unwilling to bend for her,
even just to make her happy. Caleb was more than glad he could fulfill this
desire for her. He’d be glad to satisfy any other she might have, too.

He took a calculated risk and reached across the table for
her hand. He heard her little indrawn breath when he curled his fingers around
her. She tensed, but she didn’t let go.

With a squeeze, he met her dark eyes. “Why did you stay with
him for so long?”

“He put a roof over my children’s heads and food in their
bellies. I came to him with three kids. Whatever else I say about him, he
provided for them.”

“And treated you badly.”

“I was not important. The children were.”

Ah, damn
… Her
heart was so soft and sweet, and Gordon had taken advantage of it so badly that
she feared trusting anyone again. Caleb knew damn well that he wasn’t easy to
get along with, but he’d never neglect or tear her down as Gordon had. He
wondered if all her experience with love had been awful.

“Tell me about your first husband.”

Carlotta looked surprised by his question, but happy for the
change of subject. “Eduardo was a good husband and father. He was a police
officer and died in the line of duty while breaking up a domestic dispute. The
children were all young. I was a widow before thirty and a poor one at that. I
had very much hoped that Gordon could fill all the voids in our lives, but…”
She shrugged. “The nine years Eduardo and I shared together were lovely and
wonderful. Even knowing how it would end, I would not change a thing. My
children are the world to me, and I treasure my memories with their father.”

And Caleb was actually glad to hear that. He just hoped that
having something good in the past would help Carlotta believe that she could
have something good in the future with someone else.

“You deserve to be protected and pampered, Lottie. You
deserve someone who will be happy to indulge your whims every now and then just
for the pleasure of seeing you smile. And you need someone willing to make sure
you take care of yourself properly.”

Carlotta seemed to hold her breath. She blinked at him. “I
am too old now for matters of the heart. I have two beautiful grandsons and—”

“And if you finish that sentence, you won’t like what comes
next. You are
not
old.” He gritted
his teeth, his palm itching to meet her backside. Hell, he hadn’t felt an urge
to punish a woman this way in years… None of them had mattered enough to try.
“Do you hear me, Lottie?”