The Jackpot Screwer: Enemies to Lovers (Love In Dayton Valley Book 2) Page 3

  Sighing heavily, I opened up my appointment book to check who was next in. A back wax for Jim Wickerson, the local pig farmer.

  Great. Fuck my life.

  Wondering if I had enough disinfectant spray for the treatment bed after Jim’s visit, the door to my salon pushed open. A huge bouquet of pink and white peonies appeared followed by a shock of deep auburn hair.

  “Carter,” I sighed.

  “Hey, Lollipop.” He let the door close behind him and poked his head above the flowers, giving me a shy smile.

  My damn stomach did a flip, as it always did when he gave me his ‘apology grin’. He was so damn cute. I hated him for it.

  “I came to say sorry,” he said pushing the bouquet toward me.

  “They’re beautiful. Thank you.” I took them from him. “And I’m sorry for throwing my shoe at you. How’s your head?”

  He shrugged and touched the side of his head. “My mom says where there’s no sense there’s no feeling, so…”

  “You were an idiot,” I replied, narrowing my gaze at him.

  “I know, but in my defense your ass does look amazing.”

  Trying not to look at him, seeing as he was much too good at winning me around with his array of smiles, I put the flowers down on the desk.

  “Do you have a vase?” he asked. “I can get it for you.”

  I shook my head. “Lilah is having her lunch and is on a call to her boyfriend. Best leave her alone, they’re having issues.”

  Carter looked a little sheepish as he bit on his bottom lip. “Not just us then.”

  “Well, I doubt Gary told Lilah she had a fat ass.”

  “I apologized. And I’ve seen Lilah, she’s real skinny.”

  Blinking slowly, I tried to compute what he’d just said. “Did you just tell me that Lilah is skinny but I’m fat?”

  “What? No, you know I didn’t.” He threw his hands into the air. “Shit, Lollipop, I just can’t win with you.”

  “No, you can’t,” I replied, leaning closer to him. “So, you may as well leave.”

  “I’m not leaving until we sort this.” He folded his arms across his broad chest and leaned against the wall, planting himself for the long run by the look of things.

  My blood boiled. “I don’t want to sort it. In fact, I’d be happy never to set eyes on your stupid face ever again.”

  Carter grinned and slowly licked his bottom lip, his eyes twinkling, no doubt with some idiotic plan to make me cave.

  “Stop looking at me like that,” I snapped. “It’s not going to work.”

  Carter’s eyes went immediately to my boobs which were heaving pretty rapidly.

  “You sure?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I bit back. “That’s pure anger getting my adrenaline going, don’t think for one minute it’s anything else.”

  His head cocked to one side as his gaze moved up and down my body. Just having him watch me was a turn on, but I’d be damned if I’d let him know that.

  “Sometimes, Carter I wonder how high my mom dropped me.”

  “I don’t understand,” he replied, frowning.

  “Well, she must have dropped me on my damn head for me to fall for you. You’re nothing but a…”

  “Pickle stealer?”

  He was not laughing at me, was he?

  He had a grin on his face, so yes, he was.

  “I was thinking more a dirty rotten ball sack,” I snarled, moving closer to him, my hands curled into tight fists.

  Carter looked at me like I was a toddler who needed to be brought down from a tantrum and that got me madder than a wet hen.

  “If you really want to keep your balls, Carter,” I said pointing a finger in the region of his stupid, fertile bits and pieces. “I’d suggest that you shut your mouth and get out.”

  “Ah c'mon Lollipop, don’t be like that. I’ve been reading a Dummy’s Guide to becoming a Dad and arguing isn’t good for the baby.”

  “Not good for the baby,” I blasted. “You’re not good for my health, not just the baby’s.”

  Carter sighed. “Please, Lollipop. Take a seat.”

  Moving behind the reception counter, he pulled out the chair and ushered me toward it.

  “No,” I screeched, so loud it hurt my ears.

  “Lollipop, I-”

  “What the hell is going on out here?”

  “Oh God,” I groaned, dropping my head into my hands. “Mrs. Callahan, I forgot you were in there.”

  “Shit, Mrs. Callahan,” Carter cried. “Your clothes.”

  Lifting my head, I almost burst a blood vessel when I saw Mrs. Callahan standing with her hands on her hips wearing nothing but the paper panties that I'd given her to wear. Her wrinkly old titties were swinging free, almost reaching her belly button.

  “Don’t tell me you’ve never seen a naked body, Carter Maples. Well, I know you have because of the conversation I just heard you yelling.” Mrs. Callahan shook her head. “Gotta say I’m shocked. You, a medical person, putting a bun in your girlfriend’s belly by accident.”

  She took a step toward him and as her titties moved from side to side, Carter retched, slapping a hand over his eyes.

  “Mrs. Callahan,” he groaned. “Your panties have... they’re kind of... oh shit.”

  I looked down to see what he was talking about and sighed.

  “Mrs. Callahan, do you want to go back to the treatment room?” I put an arm around her and attempted to guide her back. No one needed to see her cooch hanging out of her panties. “I’ll be with you soon to do your massage.”

  “Ah stop your fussing. There’s nothing wrong with a naked woman, especially when she looks after herself.” She winked at me and nudged Carter with a bony elbow. “You know it, eh, Carter.”

  Carter made a noise at the back of his throat and started moving toward the exit door.

  “I think I should go, Lollipop.”

  “Don’t go on my account.” Mrs. Callahan slid both her thumbs into the sides of the panties and readjusted them, tucking everything back inside. “There you go, the girls are back in the glory hole. You can open your eyes now.”

  “Oh my God,” Carter whimpered.

  “You need to remember one thing.” The old lady sighed. “You and that right hand of yours are going to get real acquainted when that babe is born. After squeezing it out, your damn appendage is the last thing this little lady will want near her flower garden.”

  “Shit, someone help me.” Carter seemed to physically wither as Mrs. Callahan cackled out a laugh.

  “As for you,” she continued, pointing at me. “Those perky titties of yours will look like tennis balls in socks, if you’re not careful. You need to do plenty of chest exercises; that’s what I did.”

  She looked down at herself and gave a little self-satisfied smile.

  “Okay, I’m done,” Carter said with an air of finality. “I’ll call you later, Lollipop.”

  As Mrs. Callahan scratched under her armpit, I was too distracted to carry on being mad with him and gave him a sympathetic smile.

  “Hey, Carter,” Mrs. Callahan called. “You ever need more advice, just hit me up at the gas station. I can always spare time for the young men of Dayton Valley.” She winked at his disappearing back and then smiled at me. “So, honey, tell me. Why’s he calling you Lollipop?”

  I whimpered and wondered whether it would be unprofessional to run and leave Lilah to deal with her.

  “I think I know,” she replied, finally deciding to go back to the treatment room. “Seeing as my husband Daniel used to call me Queen Fellatio.”

  “Lilah, I need you now!”

  When I walked into my folk’s living room, the last thing I expected to see was my dad sat at an easel, painting. He’d never painted anything in his life, not even a fence post. Anything like that needing doing at home he got decorators in.

  “What the hell is going on?” I asked, looking him up and down. “And what the hell are you wearing?”

  “If you don�
��t know son,” he replied, tilting his head to check out his masterpiece, “then that fancy education of yours was a waste of time. And if you must know it’s a smock.”

  “What the hell is a smock?”

  Dad rolled his eyes. “This, you idiot. It’s to stop me from getting paint on my clothes. I got vermillion on my shirt yesterday and your mom pitched a real fit.”

  I didn’t even pretend to know what vermillion was. My main concern was that he was wearing what looked like a maternity dress.

  Shit – I wondered if maybe Bronte could borrow it when she got bigger?

  “What do you want anyway?” Dad asked, always the genial parent glad to see his first-born home. “You’re interrupting me while I’m channeling my inner Bob Ross.”

  I sighed heavily and flopped down onto his armchair which he’d had so long it was pretty much grooved to the shape of his ass. Mom kept trying to get rid of it, even getting a charity who collected furniture to come pick it up at one time. Somehow Dad found out where it had gone and went to their warehouse and actually paid to get it back.

  “Spit it out, son,” he said, turning to face me. “I have the ethereal glow to do yet and I need to get it just right. I’m struggling getting it to look... well, ethereal.”

  As he frowned, I second guessed my choice of Henry Maples as my confidante. Maybe Mom would be better, if I could persuade her to keep her mouth closed. Within seconds though I’d rethought the idea, knowing it would never happen and that Dad was my best option.

  “You have to promise not to tell Mom,” I said leaning forward and narrowing my eyes on him. “I mean it, Dad, she can’t find this out, yet.”

  “I don’t keep secrets from your mom, you should know that.”

  “Shit, you sound as damn pussy whipped as Hunter. Apparently, he doesn’t keep secrets from Ellie either.”

  “Good,” Dad said with a nod of his head. “Glad to hear he’s treating my baby girl properly. Now come on, spit it out.”

  The sneaky shit thought I’d tell him without him promising.

  “You have to swear, Dad. If you do, I’ll tell you.”

  He sighed heavily and rushed out, “Promisenottotellyourmom.”

  “Damn, Dad.” I grabbed his arm and grinned. “You really are scared of Mom. You played college ball and she’s half your size. You could take her down easily.”

  Dad’s eyes widened as he pointed a finger at me. “Do not let that woman fool you. She’s scarier than you can possibly know. You and Ellie have only ever seen her sweet side.”

  I began to laugh; he looked genuinely scared. “Mom is all sugar. There’s not one tiny bit of sour in her.”

  “You’ve never eaten her last Pop Tart.”

  “Mom doesn’t eat Pop Tarts,” I argued. “Too much refined sugar.”

  “Not now, but in college she did. I suffered for a whole three days because of it.”

  Pinching the bridge of my nose, I groaned quietly.

  “You know, maybe I’ll go and speak to Mr. Bridges,” I replied, getting up from the chair.

  “Mr. Bridges is in a coma, isn’t he?”

  “Yeah, he is, but he also isn’t scared of his wife twenty years after stealing her last damn Pop Tart. I also think I’ll get more sense out of him.”

  Dad glared and then swung sideways on his stool so that he was facing me fully. “I give great advice, just ask your sister. Now spill it.”

  Chewing on my bottom lip I contemplated if I was doing the right thing. Maybe I should have spoken to Hunter and kept our imminent arrival between the four of us who already knew.

  “Is Lance finally going to retire and put you in charge?” Dad asked, dropping his paintbrush into a jar of water and then leaning back to take another look at his masterpiece.

  “No, and I think I’ll retire before he does as this rate. Which is why I’m gonna ask him to let me become partner.”

  Dad looked impressed as he wiped his hands on his smock. “Good idea. Do you need money for that, is that what you want to talk about?”

  “No,” I sighed. “I have that covered.”

  He brought his gaze back to mine and shrugged. “Okay, well what then? ‘Cause I gotta tell you son, the damn suspense is killing me.”

  “You swear you won’t tell Mom?” I questioned, rubbing my sweaty palms together.

  He didn’t answer but was definitely thinking about it; the look on his face was like he was passing a kidney stone.

  “Dad!”

  “I said I wouldn’t, didn’t I? Now just get on with it.” He huffed impatiently and then turned momentarily back to his canvas. “Gotta say, son, it’s good, don’t you think?”

  I took my first real look at the picture and did a double take.

  “Fuck, Dad, please tell me that isn’t Mom’s naked body.”

  He grinned and then winked.

  “What is wrong with you?” I cried, throwing my hands into the air. “You’re determined to scar me for life.” My head whipped around the room. “Where the hell is she? If you’re painting her why isn’t she in the room?”

  “I drew her yesterday, now I’m painting her.” He started to mess around with his paints, turning his back on me.

  Not wanting to waste another minute, I blew out a long breath.

  “Okay,” I said, getting his attention. “You ready?”

  He nodded, swinging back around to me. “Go ahead.”

  I cleared my throat. “Bronte’s pregnant and has dumped me and I have no idea what to do.”

  Dad reared back on his stool. “What the actual fuck?”

  “Yeah, you heard right.”

  “Shit, son,” he replied, pushing up from his stool and moving toward me. “That’s some damn big news.”

  The shock was evident as Dad placed a hand on my shoulder and blinked rapidly.

  “I suppose me giving you a lecture about birth control is pointless,” he said puffing out his cheeks.

  “Kind of late, yeah.”

  We stood in silence and it must only have been for a few seconds but felt like hours as my dad watched me carefully; his inquisitive blue eyes searching my face.

  “I know we brought you up to be responsible,” he finally said. “So, I hope you’re asking me how to get Bronte to see that.”

  I nodded. “Yes sir. Exactly that.”

  “Good boy.” He pulled me into a hug and his large hand patted my back. “Congratulations.”

  “You’re not angry at me?” I asked as he gave me a tight squeeze.

  He pulled away from me and shook his head. “Not going to lie, I think you’re an idiot for not tying Lance down about the partnership first. You should have settled your future before bringing another life into this world. And I’m sure you know that Jim and Darcy won’t be happy that you got their little girl in the family way.”

  “Yeah, I know.” My heart thudded as I thought about that conversation. I loved Bronte, but our situation didn’t bode well for us making things work. Her parents were probably going to quite rightly pitch a fit about it. “I want us to be a family, Dad.”

  “Bronte’s not so keen though?” Dad moved over to his chair and indicated for me to take a seat on the couch. “Did you do something for her to doubt you?”

  “No! I love her, I want this.” I thought about the conversations we’d had since she’d told me the news. “Maybe I haven’t always said the right thing to her, but I’ve made it clear I want us to do it together.”

  “Seems like not saying the right things has finally caught up with you then.” He rolled his eyes. “I love you more than life, Carter. But sometimes, son, you’re a damn idiot whose mouth shoots off before his damn brain has engaged.”

  He wasn’t wrong.

  “So, any advice?” I asked, not wishing to dwell on my stupid mouth.

  “First off you need to prove to her you're serious about actually being an adult. First thing in the morning, you speak to Lance about the partnership and if he tries to put you off then maybe you sho
uld consider setting up on your own.”

  I blew out a breath. “Shit, Dad, that’s a lot of responsibility.”

  “Yeah, well that’s what being a parent is all about, son. You have to provide for your family. If Lance isn’t willing to give you that then you have to have a plan B.”

  “And getting myself into debt to set up my own practice is a good plan B?”

  He considered me for a few seconds and then nodded. “Yeah, it is. If that’s what you decide, then Mom and I will help you out with a loan. We have savings and some shares that we can cash in.”

  “No, no way. That’s yours’ and Mom’s retirement fund. I’m not taking that from you.”

  “Well, we ain’t retiring yet, no matter how old you think we are. Besides,” he said leaning forward and resting his arms on his knees. “We have enough for both.”

  My eyes went wide. I had no idea my folks were so well off. Then again, Dad had realized at an early age how your future could change at the snap of an ACL. He’d evidently made sure since then that his family would be okay, no matter what happened.

  “As for Bronte, you just have to keep telling her how you feel and that you want this baby. Keep telling and showing her and eventually, if she loves you, she’ll come around. She does love you right?”

  If he’d asked me that a couple of weeks before I’d have said yes, but recently I wasn’t so sure.

  “I think so,” I answered with a heavy weight in my chest. “I think maybe being pregnant has clouded her judgment a little.”

  “Believe me son, do not say that to her. Never tell a woman that hormones are making her crazy.” He studied me, realization dawning on his face. “Oh fuck, Carter, you idiot.”

  “I guess you’re right about my mouth shooting off before my brain has kicked in.”

  “Okay,” Dad said and pinched the bridge of his nose. “First speak to Lance and at least try and show your pregnant ex-girlfriend that you’re attempting to be an adult.”