Page 176 of Wanting What's Wrong

“Jenna,” he says, voice firm, “this is Granny. Granny, Jenna.”

“Good ta finally meet you. You look decent enough. Your mother’s a right cunt, though.”

“Jesus, Granny, give the girl a minute.” Cal’s voice hardens but there’s a undercurrent of restraint and respect as well.

Granny shrugs as a wince of shame stabs my belly button, remembering how Mom concocted the whole story about how Cal was hitting her daily. Showing off bruises I know she put there herself or got when she fell down the stairs after five hours in her little attic hiding place smoking God knows what and chasing it with chugs straight out of her bottle of Coconut rum.

She always said it made her feel like she was on vacation. She was on something, that’s for sure.

“She’s gonna stay like I told you. For a while.”

“Mmhmm.” Granny squints. “Good. Glad she’s away from that—”

“Enough.” Cal cuts her off witha wave. “I’m gonna show her around. Your polite tank is running on empty, Granny. Better get a fill up. Jenna doesn’t need you pointing out the obvious.”

Granny clicks her tongue as Cal adjusts his hand on the top of my head, turning my face toward a set of swinging wooden slatted doors that lead into a back room.

I laugh nervously as we walk away. “Nice to meet you,” I manage.

Even with this older woman’s sharp tongue, I bet she’s the Pitbull you’d want to have in your corner when it’s fighting time.

She grins, eyes gleaming as the bells on the door jingle. Her attention shifts to a new customer, and I’m out of the limelight at least for the moment.

“You’ll get used to her. She’s leather tough but inside if she likes you, she’d swallow spittoon spit to save your life.”

“Jesus.” I squint, revulsion making me shiver. “You know how to paint a picture.”

Cal coughs on a low chuckle as he walks me through the door, swinging and squeaking on their hinges as we move to the other side.

“Granny’s been handling too much.” His voice softens as we move into the back room, filled with shelves and boxes and locked cabinets. “My grandfather did most of the work when he was alive. We keep it going ‘cause it’s all we got left of him. And because Granny’s scary when she’s bored.”

I chuckle. “She’s kinda scary in general.”

Cal concedes the truth of that with a tip of his head, his hand easing warm and heavy down my back as I soak in his nearness. The sheer size of him makes me feel like I did that first time he sat down at the breakfast table with me. Sliding a plate of two perfectly-cooked sunny side up eggs in front of me, with a link of sausage cut in half, in an inverted ‘V’ shape, and a curling piece of sizzling bacon at the bottom of the plate.

He made me a breakfast smiley face. And something insideme cracked. He was too good to be true. I’d never known a man that didn’t want something or had some ulterior motive.

I wasn’t buying what he was selling but he didn’t even react when I went to the cabinet, pulled out my box of off-brand Cheerios, poured them in a coffee mug and dumped the last of the milk on top. I stuck my tongue out at him, then proceeded to eat the bland, stale cardboard flavored wheat loops while ignoring him and his smiling perfect breakfast.

He steps away, messing with something on the top of a wooden desk to my left as I blow out a breath, trying to keep from crying from the burning pain in my rock-hard boobs.

Just as I exhale, he turns.

“You hurting?”

I blink. “What?”

He tilts his head. “Your chest. Something wrong?”

Oh, God. I look down and realize I’m pressing my arm across my breasts, trying to hide the damp spots blooming beneath the fabric.

“I—” I clutch myself tighter. “Is there a bathroom?”

He points to a white door on the back wall as Granny’s voice comes through from the front of the store.

“Cal! Need you to take out that Desert Eagle for Mr. Martin.Again.”

Cal grunts. “I’ll be back. I’ll show you some of the inventory. Figure as long as you’ll be staying with me, you’ll be earning your keep. You can work here when I’m here, then have time off when I’m working the ranch to figure things out for yourself. I’ll pay you well. You deserve to have something of your own. But, for now, you never go anywhere on your own, clear?”

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