Easy Melody (Boudreaux 3)

“I just want you to be happy, Cal.”

“Happier than I’ve been in a long time,” I reply, surprised that it’s true.

“Good. Let’s go tuck you in.”

“Have to close the bar.”

“Jessica can handle it.”

Chapter Ten

~Callie~

Oh, dear Jesus, I’m dying. My head is pounding. I’m sweating. My mouth is dry and sticky.

And I’m wrapped like a mummy under something heavy.

I’ve already died and someone is trying to bury me. I swear, God, if you don’t let me get buried, I’ll never drink like that again. Ever. Okay, maybe not ever, but not for a very, very long time.

I’m gonna throw up.

I hate throwing up.

I moan and try to move, but I can’t. Not only am I wrapped in the sheet and blanket as tight as can be, but something—or someone—is wrapped around me.

“Damn it, I know you tucked me in, but don’t you have a bed of your own to go to?” My voice sounds raw, like the evil stepmother in Snow White.

“I know I didn’t tuck you in last night,” Declan says in my ear, making me grin. His voice sounds… musical, with its soft tone and slight accent. God, that accent makes me crazy.

“Don’t worry,” I whisper, still not opening my eyes. “Adam took me to bed last night.”

“This conversation isn’t improving,” he says dryly. “Maybe you should stop while you’re ahead.”

“Mm,” is my only response as I snuggle closer to him and sigh in contentment. I didn’t like falling asleep without him last night, wasted or not. I’ve gotten used to sharing a bed with him in the past few weeks, which surprises me. I’ve never shared a bed with anyone long-term, even Keith when I was in Denver. He didn’t like to sleep over, and I didn’t think I did either, but sleeping with Declan feels right.

“What do you want to do today?” he whispers into my ear. His fingers are combing through my hair gently, rhythmically. He’s warm and safe wrapped around me, and I can feel the slight scrape from the scruff on his chin against my neck.

As soon as I’m done dying, I’m going to attack him.

“Stay here. Sleep.”

He chuckles and bites my earlobe, but all that does is send sparks of electricity down my back. How in the ever loving fuck am I severely hung over and turned on at the same time? I didn’t think that was possible.

Huh. Weird.

“You can’t sleep all day.”

“I can until I have to go to work. Just watch me.”

“I want to spend the day with you,” he says and kisses my cheek, then nudges me onto my back. “Open your beautiful eyes, darlin’.”

“Don’t have to.”

“Are you always so chipper when you’re hung over?”

I crack an eye open and glare at him. “Who says I’m hung over?”

“I do!” Adam yells from the doorway.

“God, he’s annoying,” I moan and bury my face in my hands. “Just let me die in peace.”

“I’m making you breakfast,” I hear Adam say and then his footsteps as he walks down the hall.

“See? We’ll feed you and then I’ll take you somewhere fun.”

“This is fun,” I reply and smile sweetly.

“We’ll do this later,” he replies, brushing my hair off my cheek. “You’re even gorgeous hung over.”

And that’s when it hits me; I must look insane. I squirm out from under the covers and rush into the bathroom, then cringe. “Oh, God.”

“What’s wrong?” Declan asks from the doorway, leaning against the jamb.

“Last night's smokey eye has turned into this morning’s five-dollar-hooker eye.”

He barks out a laugh and then shakes his head. “Fifty dollar hooker. At least.”

I spread toothpaste on my brush and glare at him in the mirror as I scrub my disgusting mouth. “Bread haf be didguding.”

“Your breath wasn’t that bad,” he replies, his hazel eyes shining as he watches me brush my teeth and then take a makeup cleanser to my face. “You’re actually pretty cute when you’re all messed up.”

“You’re not supposed to be here.” I frown and stare at him as I wipe my face clean. “What are you doing here?”

He shrugs, but then he shakes his head, as if he’s saying fuck it to himself, and he meets my eyes as he says, “I missed you this morning.”

Oh. How am I supposed to resist that?

I toss the dirty cleaning cloth on the trash and walk to the impossibly tall, ridiculously handsome man and stand on my tip-toes to gently press my lips to his. I’m so much shorter than him when I’m not in my heels.

“What do you want to do today?” he asks me again, then brushes his knuckles down my cheek.

“I want to be outside,” I reply with a smile. “But no strenuous activity. My stomach can’t handle it.”

“I know a place,” he replies and kisses my nose. “You’re short without your shoes.”

“I was just thinking that.”

“And you’re gorgeous without your war paint.”

“I was not thinking that.”

“You’re just beautiful, Calliope. I’ll take you any way I can get you.” With that, he winks and backs away from me. “Adam made breakfast.”

“I can smell that bacon.”

“Well, hurry up, or there won’t be any left.”

“You would dare steal bacon from a hung over woman?” I grip my chest as if I’m shocked and devastated, but he just laughs.