Unfinished Ex (Calloway Brothers, #2)(18)

“Very funny.”

“You’ve never been one to drink this much.”

I raise my beer. “Have a pretty damn good reason, don’t you think?”

“Which reason would that be?”

“Let’s see, being the laughingstock of the town. Or maybe having it stuffed down my throat that my ex is making a name for herself, proving why she left me in the first place.”

“She left you because she cheated.”

I shake my head. “She cheated because it was her way out.”

“She told you that?”

I gulp the rest of my beer and open another. “She didn’t have to.”

“Do you mean to tell me that you’d have given her a pass, knowing she cheated, if she’d wanted to stay?”

“I don’t know what I’m saying,” I slur. “And I shouldn’t be allowed to talk about this—with anyone—after drinking.”

He studies me. “You didn’t.”

“I may have.”

“You contacted her?”

“Saw her Saturday. I wasn’t even drunk then. But then I may have texted her last night when I was.”

He pinches his brow. “Holy crap. What did you say?”

I pull out my phone and show him.

“I see she didn’t respond.” More scrutinizing of me. Then he laughs. “That’s what has you all bent out of shape, isn’t it? She isn’t going to play your blame game. Dude, she’s your ex. Move the fuck on.”

“I have moved on.”

“Have you?” a woman says behind us.

We both turn to see Calista standing on my back porch.

“Okay, so I’m leaving,” Coop says.

“Wait. Tag said you might want to crash here.”

He nods to Calista. “A conversation for another day.” He passes her. “Hey, Calista, how’s it going?”

“Fine. You?”

“Fine as can be. See you around.”

He glances back at me with a grimace, as if he knows I’m about to be in front of the firing squad.

By the look on Calista’s face, he may be right.

I take a warmish beer out of the six-pack and hold it out to her. She shakes her head. “Thanks, but no.” She sits on a chair next to me. Heisman trots over and puts his head in her lap. Usually, after he gets his greeting, he goes about his business chewing on a stick or chasing squirrels. But he doesn’t move his head from where it sits on her thigh.

“Heisman, leave her alone.”

“He’s fine,” she says, continuing to pet him.

“I know I was a dick leaving like that the other night. I’m sorry.”

“You were shocked to see her—we all were—and then to find out she’s staying here in town. I get it. I’m not even mad at you for leaving, although my dad isn’t too happy that I didn’t kick you to the curb on the spot.”

I run a hand through my hair. “I’m sure he’d like to be the one to do it. I feel like an idiot walking out on you like that. It had nothing to do with you and everything to do with her.”

“I know that. But the fact that she can still get to you—doesn’t that mean something?”

“Like what?”

“Like maybe you’re not over her.”

“I’m over her.”

Pants meet fire.

Her brows come together. “Are you sure?”

“I think I just needed time to process it. She’s only going to be in town for a few months. Things will get back to normal after that.”

“Jaxon, I’m not going to wait around for two more months so you can decide if being in a relationship with me is what you want. Haven’t I waited long enough? Haven’t I been more than patient waiting for your divorce to go through?”

I nod. Because Calista has been patient. And kind. And understanding. And everything most men would want in a woman. What’s wrong with me that I don’t?

She tries to get up. Heisman doesn’t seem to want her to. He’s glued to her lap. It’s the strangest behavior. Does he sense that we shouldn’t be together? That this could be the last time she’s here?

Calista moves his head off her leg and slides out of the chair. “You know how I feel about you. Take a few days, think about it. But please, if you aren’t in this for the long term, let me get on with my life before it would hurt even more.”

“Cal—”

She holds up a hand. “Don’t say anything. Think about it, Jaxon.”

Heisman and I watch her leave. Finally, he comes and lies at my feet. “That didn’t go like I thought it would,” I tell him. “I didn’t expect to have any of my ass left.” He gives me a look. “I know, I know. She’s an incredible woman—the whole package, even. Stop looking at me like that.”

As if he understands me, he turns away and grooms his belly. Sometimes I wish I were a dog. No worries about women, money, jobs, not to mention you can lick things on yourself that humans aren’t capable of.

I grab another beer and watch him go to town on his empty ball sack.





Chapter Eight



Nicky