Nice and Easy: Boys of the Big Easy book three Page 18

  Hell, no was Caleb’s instinctual reaction to that.

  “She needs for me to know that I always know what I’m doing,” he said absently as in love with her bounced around in his mind. Was he in love with Lexi?

  But the answer was clear. If he wasn’t in love with her, he was a dumbass.

  “Harper is texting me a list of authors for you to check out.” James rejoined them at the bar.

  Caleb gave him a look. “She’s…a lot.”

  “That’s funny, she thinks I’m a lot.”

  “You are.”

  James grinned. “Yep.” He picked up his beer again. “She’s cute, though, huh?”

  “She was more than cute when I met her,” Caleb said. “I go so far as to say beautiful.”

  James frowned. “You thought she was beautiful?”

  “If you’re into that studious, smart, classy type.” Which Caleb was becoming more and more sure James was.

  “Not really,” James said, suddenly less grin-y.

  Well, maybe he hadn’t been up until now, but Caleb thought that had changed. About the time Harper Broussard moved in across the hall.

  The dings of a series of incoming texts on James’s phone drew their attention.

  And suddenly Caleb had a list of twenty authors to try. All cross-referenced by the type of “lesson” he could learn. There were restraints, spanking, toys, and yes, role-playing.

  “Where are we starting?” Sawyer asked, looking over the list with appreciation.

  Caleb looked at the other man. “We?”

  Sawyer shrugged. “Hey, if a woman ever asks me to tie her up in bed, I don’t want to have to make the drive clear up here and talk to you guys about it first. I just want to go right in.”

  Fair enough.

  Caleb blew out a breath. “Role-playing.”

  “Yeah?” James asked.

  Caleb shrugged. “She gets off on the guy-in-power thing. Boss-employee. Professor-student. Pirate-slave girl. Single dad-babysitter.” He gave a little shudder on the last one.

  Josh laughed. “Hot.”

  “A little close to home.”

  “Okay, well you know what’s equally hot and kind of like babysitter but not?” Josh asked.

  “Cheerleader,” Sawyer and James answered at the same time.

  Caleb and Josh looked at them in surprise. He looked back. “Am I wrong?”

  “That was exactly what I was going to say,” Josh admitted.

  Cheerleader. Huh. Maybe he could be the football coach…

  Five minutes later, Caleb had downloaded four books with hot role-playing scenes in them onto his phone. Ten minutes later, Josh had read three short passages from two of the books out loud. And twelve minutes later the guys had set up a time for a weekly erotic romance book club.

  9

  Caleb left for a twenty-four-hour shift at six a.m. Sunday morning. Then he had to swing by Bea’s to pick the kids up on Monday because Lexi had already gone in to work twelve hours at the ER. Bea always kept the kids when their schedules overlapped. Sometimes it was just for an hour or so, and sometimes it was a few hours if Caleb needed to go home and sleep. As was the case on Sunday.

  When Lexi got home that night a little after eight, the kids were in bed and Caleb encouraged her to sit on the couch with him for an hour, just talking. Not about sex. Not about the book he’d started reading at the fire station between calls. Just talking.

  She acted a little suspicious, jumpy even, at first. He held her hand, stroking his thumb over the back of her knuckles. But after about twenty minutes, she started to relax. There were plenty of moments where her gaze would drop to his lips or when his hand would pause on her knuckles and his palm would literally itch to move up her arm—and further. But neither of them did anything other than talk. It was as if they were each waiting for the other to make the move. And then, slowly, they both relaxed into the conversation, and it seemed as if neither of them wanted to stop talking.

  Lexi told him about her shift and the woman who had delivered one of her twins in the ER’s waiting area and the other twin two minutes after getting into one of the exam rooms. Caleb told her about pulling a car out of the river and the two guys who’d both gone into cardiac arrest while arguing over a game of checkers in the park.

  Then, when it got too late to stay up any longer, they went to bed. Separately. Across the hall from one another.

  Caleb was off the next two days after that and Lexi worked.

  They talked on the couch both nights. And did nothing else.

  He’d gotten through two of the books entirely and had skipped to the sex scenes in the others. He had a pretty good idea of where she was coming from at this point. But he was now building the anticipation.

  And enjoying their talks. They shared about work, but also stories about their families, favorite holidays, movie preferences, and more.

  The talking, just like the spanking, was something new that he hoped to do a lot of.

  They were both off on Thursday and they hung out with the kids all day and then went to the support group meeting together. Friday, Lexi worked and Caleb and the kids went to the zoo.

  Then to Shay’s first PT appointment.

  Now he was sitting on the couch waiting for Lexi to get home, resisting the urge to pace. And swear.

  To say that Shay’s first PT appointment hadn’t gone well would be possibly the biggest understatement of his life.

  She hadn’t wanted to go to the appointment in the first place. The appointment time fell right in the middle of Bubbles and Bingo, one of her favorite TV shows. Then he’d made her brush her hair. Which was, obviously, the meanest thing an uncle could do to his niece. And then the therapist had made her do a bunch of activities that Shay wanted no part of.

  It had started out fine. They’d had new-to-her toys and they’d played some games. They’d included Caleb and Jack in the games as well, and Shay had gotten caught up in the novelty of it all. But when they’d needed to assess certain specific performance areas, Shay had slowly gotten more and more frustrated until she’d finally announced that she wanted to go home right now as loud as she could. That had upset Jack, and within seconds Caleb had a four- and a two-year-old both crying and begging to leave.

  It had been hard enough watching Shay pushed to do things she didn’t want to—and couldn’t—do. It had been hard enough hearing the therapist say, we want to restore as many normal patterns as we can so that her function is as full and efficient as possible. That, of course, emphasized the fact that there were abnormal patterns and that her function wasn’t—and wouldn’t ever be—full.

  But making Shay stay and continue working with the therapists, telling Jack that Shay had to keep doing the stuff she didn’t like and upsetting him, and dealing with the reality that this was all going to be a regular part of their routine for the foreseeable future had been the icing on the crap-tastic cake of a day he’d had.

  The cherry on top was when the therapist had said the word “brace.”

  As in, they thought a brace for Shay’s left ankle and foot would help with her tripping and stumbling. It would provide the support that her muscles weren’t and would improve her balance and walking.

  But a brace…that was an outward sign that there was a problem. And that it wouldn’t get better. That she would always need external support because her body wasn’t able to do the things she needed it to do.

  Caleb knew that Shay’s safety and function was the most important thing, but he couldn’t help thinking about her having to explain it, possibly being made fun of, or judged because of it, that people might make assumptions about her abilities because of it. He knew it shouldn’t matter, but that it would.

  She was a little girl. A little girl. Who knew what she might want to do someday. What if she wanted to try gymnastics or wear high heels or go hiking? How did all of this impact those things? Would she be able to do any of it? What if she couldn’t? And was he going to have to be the one tell
ing her she couldn’t do things she wanted to?

  Of course, she might accept all of it with grace and humor. She could be one of those people who used it as an opportunity to educate others and become an advocate for people with brain injuries. She could find ways to do the things she wanted to, leg brace be damned, and be an inspiration to others.

  But she might not.

  She was four. He would do everything he could to support her. To help her find the grace in the situation. To encourage her to educate and advocate. He could become an educator and advocate.

  But she was four. He didn’t know what she’d want, how she’d handle it. If she’d just accept it as a part of her life—probably more likely at her young age—or if she’d resent it.

  Shay, of course, had her own personality. She was her own little person. But she had a lot of learning and growing to do and experiences to go through. Good and bad. He didn’t know how all of this was going to look in ten years, in twenty years, even next month. And he fucking hated that.

  One thing about being a controlling guy who had become a guardian to an eighteen-month-old was that she hadn’t had her own ideas and beliefs yet. He’d been able to tell her where to go and when, how things were going to be, how she should view the world around her.

  That would not always be true.

  And she was going to have a physical disability that was going to color and influence that world around her and those ideas and beliefs.

  He didn’t know what to do with that.

  He’d realized halfway through Shay’s appointment that he’d been hoping to hear that he’d been making too much of the little bit of information he’d been given. That he’d been thinking of the worst-case scenario. That his limited knowledge in this area had made him jump to conclusions that were not real.

  That wasn’t the case.

  Shay was going to have permanent disabilities.

  Period.

  There were always going to be some things that Shay couldn’t do as well as the other kids her age. There were always going to be some things that she couldn’t do at all without assistance.

  You will see some progress, Mr. Moreau. She will gain strength and confidence. But the weakness in her left leg, particularly around the ankle, is not going to go away.

  So, wound tight, his thoughts scattered, his emotions in knots, he’d thought of Lexi. And how she had given him the chance to give her something she wanted and something that would give her absolute pleasure. And he got to be completely in control of how it went.

  It was amazing that she’d given him that without even knowing just how much he’d need it. Lexi, of course, knew that he liked to be in charge, but she didn’t know how much, in the midst of all of this with Shay, he would need that control.

  He might not have a clue about how to help the little girl who depended on him to navigate her new reality, but he could give Lexi what she needed.

  “Hi.”

  She came through the door and Caleb felt the tension in his shoulders and neck ease slightly.

  “Hey.”

  He heard her drop her bag and kick off her shoes, then pad into the room. He looked over his shoulder. “How was work?”

  “Good.” She took her place on the end of the couch where she’d spent the last week talking to him. “Quieter than usual. Kid came in with a big, angry appendix. Guy came in with a stab wound but he’d accidently stabbed himself. Another kid needed stitches. But overall pretty good.”

  She leaned her head on her hand and gave him a soft, happy smile.

  He loved that smile. She was content. With him.

  At least he was getting this right.

  “Anybody tell you that you smelled good tonight?” he asked.

  “As a matter of fact, all three of those who I just mentioned.”

  Caleb chuckled softly, already feeling better. “Why do you always smell like bubblegum?”

  She grinned. “One time I stayed and forgot shampoo so I used Shay’s. Later Jack told me he liked it when I smelled like your house.”

  “My house? The whole thing doesn’t smell like bubblegum.”

  She shrugged. “To him it does. The smell makes him feel good so I started using it all the time. And I’ve been amazed by how it calms him—and people in the ER.” She paused. “It’s like when I was reciting the kids’ books to that guy in a coma. It’s something that’s familiar and happy. I guess it’s hard to be scared or sad when smelling bubblegum.”

  Caleb felt what could only be described as affection rock through him.

  She kept talking, telling him about the argument between two of the surgeons and that the hospital was starting a fundraising drive to raise money for a new sleep study lab.

  He knew that. He’d seen the posters around the hospital when he’d been up there for Shay’s PT appointment.

  He worked to keep his expression from giving that away, though. He wasn’t ready to tell her all about Shay. Mostly because he didn’t have all the answers he wanted to have, and he really didn’t want to tell her about the spectacular failure today’s appointment had been.

  But also because he had a much better way to spend their time tonight.

  “Okay, I’m going to head up to bed,” she finally said, and Caleb realized she’d been telling him stories for nearly an hour. She got up from the couch. “I’ll see you Sunday when you get home.” She hesitated for a moment, as if she was going to say something more.

  Caleb braced himself. Maybe she was going to initiate things after all. Maybe the anticipation was slowly killing her, too. Maybe the past week of nightly talks had made her feel like they were in a new place and it was time to take the next step.

  Maybe that’s how it should be.

  But a larger part knew that it wasn’t just for Lexi’s sake that he needed to take charge here. It was for him, too. In the wake of today’s…events…he might need him to take control even more than she needed him to.

  “Good night, Caleb.” She started for the staircase.

  “’Night.”

  He thought about letting her go. They’d talked. She was happy. Hell, he was happy.

  But…they could have more. He could give her more.

  “Lexi.”

  His low, deep, firm voice stopped her. He didn’t even have to look over his shoulder to know.

  There was a long pause, but finally she asked, “Yeah?”

  “Come back here.” Another low, firm command.

  He gripped the arm of the couch tightly, willing himself to stay put. To do this. For her. Could he spank her? Fuck if he knew. He’d never spanked a woman before. And yeah, laying his hands on Lexi like that seemed wrong. Or maybe just weird. Could he tie her up? Maybe. His fantasies had no trouble putting her in handcuffs. Could he blindfold her? Probably. He’d never done either of those things but he was willing to try. Sex was good. It was hot. He talked dirty and he loved different positions and he’d been known to push things pretty far in public. But restraints and stuff? He hadn’t needed those.

  But hell, he could try all of it. None of that seemed crazy. What was hanging him up was the role-playing. She wanted him to be her boss and demand sex from her? Or even role-play with her as the babysitter? Was that okay? Could he really get into that? And what if he really could get into it? Was that okay?

  Lexi came to stand in front of him, and as he took in the way she was breathing faster than she should be, he realized that he had to at least try.

  But where to even start?

  “Yes?” she finally asked.

  Okay, she wanted him to take over in the bedroom, get bossy, get a little rough, fulfill some fantasies. But he flashed back to that morning in the kitchen when she wouldn’t let him take care of her cut finger. And then he remembered that she’d pulled a metal skewer out of a guy’s face. And then he remembered that she’d moved into an apartment over a bar rather than beg to sleep on someone’s couch. And then he remembered a time, almost nine months ago, before Nate had propose
d to Ashley, when he’d shown up at the support group meeting and started arguing with Ashley. Lexi had gotten in between them, pushed Nate back, even though he was ten inches taller than her and easily outweighed her by a hundred pounds or more. She’d told him that she’d just learned about all of the common household products that, when ingested, could cause severe abdominal and intestinal distress. “And if you think that I couldn’t sneak some of the shit into your food without you ever knowing it and make you very, very miserable, you’re an even bigger idiot than I thought,” she’d told Nate. Loudly, in front of witnesses.

  Sure, she’d threatened the guy. But she knew there wasn’t a single person in that support group who wouldn’t have her—and Ashley’s—back. And that had probably scared Nate just as much as her direct threat.

  Especially when Corey said, “I’ve got shovels.”

  And Austin said, “I’ve got twenty acres.”

  This woman was not meek. She just wanted to submit sexually. To him.

  Fuck yeah, he was going to give this his best shot.

  “Take your clothes off.” His command was firm and his cock swelled.

  Well, that hadn’t been difficult.

  But instead of panting and stripping, she put a hand on her hip. “What?”

  He fought a smile. “Take your clothes off.”

  “Now? What’s going on?”

  He met her gaze directly and cocked an eyebrow. “Take. Your. Clothes. Off.”

  She frowned. “No.”

  He reached up and hooked his finger in the front of her scrub pants and pulled her to stand between his knees.

  “Hey,” she protested. Though without any heat. “I said no.”

  “No is not your safe word.” He stroked his finger back and forth along the waistband of her pants over the hot, silky skin of her stomach.

  The muscles tensed slightly, but she said, “So you were listening,” instead of, Oh, Caleb, take me now.

  He nodded. “Heard it all. Handcuffs, you doing anything I want—the dirtier the better—and licking you from head to toe.”

  He also heard the hitch in her breathing.