“What if I promise to have all the carpets professionally cleaned when I move out? Would you consider it?”
Hold the fuck up. Did she just mention moving out? She can’t move out—I forbid it. Logically, I know I don’t have the right to tell her what she can and can’t do, but … no, screw that, I’m pretty sure I forbid it.
“Now, hold on a minute, maybe we can figure something out,” I say, conceding, even though it goes against my better judgment. Hands on my hips, and head lowered, I grab the back of my neck and lay down the law. “You can keep Eddie, but no new carpet until … well, let’s not go there. Just … you’re not getting new carpet any time soon, okay?”
No new carpet? Ugh! Good job, asshole. Way to show her who’s boss.
Celia squeals in delight and throws her arms around my neck, before hopping up and down. Eddie clutches onto my chest to keep from falling, and I feel those little claws piercing my skin.
“You won’t regret it, I promise,” she says as she lays a loud, smacking kiss on my cheek. She takes a step back and dislodges Eddie’s claws from my mangled chest and scratches the kitten’s belly. “Did you hear that Eddie? This is your new home.”
“Which one of them orchestrated this?”
“Hmmmm?”
“Which one of my moms did you scheme with?”
Celia’s head pops up, and she has the nerve to look offended. “Well, I wouldn’t exactly call it scheming. Lila saw how much I loved Eddie, and she said she knew you’d understand. She called me last week, and I drove out there this past weekend,” she explains.
“She’s got your number?”
“I gave it to her when we visited, you know, in case we wanted to have girl talk,” she replies innocently.
Christ…
“You and I both know there won’t be any girl talk. Instead, there will be comedy hour at my expense, I’m sure.” She smirks at me and shrugs. At least she doesn’t try to deny it.
“Oh, and I also told her I couldn’t make Sunday lunch at your grandparents’ house,” she adds. I start to tell her she’s welcome to come, but she stops me with a shake of her head. “It’s obvious you’re uncomfortable, Cain. Please invite me one day when that changes. Deal?”
“Deal,” I say, hating that she feels unwanted. I think she gets that it’s not about her. When it comes to my family, there are some things I’m not ready to share just yet.
I look down at the ball of fur in her arms and shake my head. I have to admit, the little sucker is cute. “Um, Celia, you do realize Eddie is a girl, right?”
“Of course, I know that. Why do you ask?”
“Because Eddie is a dude’s name,” I say with a shrug.
Celia giggles and raises Eddie into the air so she can admire her. “Eddie’s short for Edna Catherine Lemaire.”
I grab Eddie from Celia’s arms and stare her down. “I’m sorry she gave you a granny name, little one,” I say with a laugh.
“Ha! This coming from the man who named his dog Mr. Biscuit.” Celia wraps her arms around my waist and places her head on my chest, putting her at eye level with Eddie. “She’s an old soul; I can’t help that, can I?”
My arm instinctively falls to her waist, and I watch as she tips her nose to Eddie with a smile. Eddie inches forward and taps her wet nose to Celia’s, making her giggle.
“Nah, I guess you can’t,” I whisper, squeezing her closer.
As I look down at her and take in all that is Celia—my stunning, magical fairy—I vow then and there to take off the kid gloves. Today is a wake up call. There may not have been some douchebag sniffing around what’s mine today, but it can happen if I don’t man the fuck up.
Game on.
“Kiss Me” by Ed Sheeran
Present Day
“HEY CELIA, CAN you grab me a Band-Aid? I sliced my wrist on a broken piece of tile,” I call out as I walk through her front door with my arm wrapped in a shop towel.
I look up just in time to catch a glimpse of a guilty Celia jamming something between the cushions of her couch. Her eyes meet mine with irritation, and she huffs as she crosses her arms. I can’t help but notice the pretty flush on her cheeks.
“Cain! What the hell happened to knocking?”
“Jesus, are you serious? I told you I was heading over here when I left the hardware store. You said you were fine with it.”
“Ugh, whatever,” she says with an eye roll.
She stands up and glares at me before stomping away, her skirt swinging around her legs. I crook my head down the hall, looking for the skirt to swing just right and give me a panty shot … hopefully a thong. What can I say? I’m a man. I make no apologies for my hedonism.
As soon as she’s out of sight, I toss the shop towel over my shoulder and dive for the sofa. I reach deep into the cushions, my tiny cut forgotten. Eh, it’s not that bad anyway. My hands wrap around the object in question, and I rip it out, anxious to solve the mystery. It’s a … book. Yep, it’s definitely a book. This particular book has a man with his frilly lace shirt ripped open to display a set of greased up abs on the cover. I also see a bookmark sticking out at about the halfway point.
Oh, hell yes.
I flip open to the marked page and start reading, my smile getting wider and more mischievous the further I read. So, the fairy likes it dirty.
I hear her fumbling around in the bathroom, and then the distinct sound of a cabinet closing. She’ll be rounding the corner any second now, so I hitch my ankle on top of my knee, relax back into the couch, and start reading.
“He rips open her blouse, buttons flying, scattering across the floor, to reveal her full, rounded breasts and taut nipples. His hands instinctively reach for her nipples, pinching and pulling while she groans with desire.
‘Is that pussy wet for me? Are you ready for my cock?’ Duke Wellington asks gruffly as he grinds into her petticoats.
He quickly tears away the blouse and skirts, leaving her naked before him. She pants softly as he peruses her body. She doesn’t make a sound as his boots kick her legs open, and he lowers his face to hers.
‘Answer me, maiden. Are you ready for me?’ he growls as he slaps her sex with a stinging pop.
She cries out, half-yelp, half-moan. ‘Yes, Duke, I’m ready for your cock.’”
Celia rips the book from my hands and shelters it in her chest behind crossed arms. “Ha ha! You think you’re so funny. I especially like your squeaky rendition of the maiden,” she says, managing to look embarrassed and pissed all at once.
“Ah, you liked that, did you? I tried my best to do that fine piece of literature justice.” I cross my arms and grin smugly.
“It is, in fact, a fine piece of literature,” she says as she pulls the book from her chest and checks out the cover. “The Affairs of the Duke of Hamptonshire is very thought-provoking.”
“Oh, I’m sure it provokes something,” I say with a chuckle as I grab the book from her hands and flip to the back cover. “’Join the Duke as he ravages innocent maidens throughout London.’ I have to say—I think it’s fan-fucking-tastic that you read books like this. You just surprised me, that’s all.”
Celia releases a huge, pent-up sigh and falls next to me on the couch. She shrugs and twists her hands in her lap. “Marlo got it for me. She prefers the rock star romance books, but she thought I may appreciate something a little more … old fashioned.”