All of You Page 3
“Ew, Stell. Ugh.” Kat sat in the rocker and settled Gia into her lap. “Enough with the TMI, okay? You’re grossing me out.”
Stella laughed. “Sorry. But the man is too much for me to handle with all of the baby talk and changing diapers and kissing her every five seconds.” She sighed. “Those broad shoulders and huge biceps were hard enough to take before, but now seeing Gia in his arms?” Stella shuddered. “I can’t get enough of him.”
Kat rolled her eyes. “You’re gonna scar this kid, you know that, don’t you? And me. Save the dirty talk for Fi and Gigi. Talk about eating things up with spoons.”
“That wasn’t dirty talk,” Stella said, grinning. “But if you really wanna hear some stuff-”
“God, no, Stell!” Kat positioned Gia so they were face-to-face. “Let’s change the subject, eh, Gia? From your dirty Mama to what you and Zia Kat are gonna do today.”
“Hey, Stella. Kat.”
Kat’s looked up to find Nathan’s partner, Danny, in the doorway, wearing a pair of Nathan’s mesh shorts and a tee shirt.
Sporting dark-blonde bed head, bloodshot blue-green eyes, and a raspy voice.
Not to mention long, muscular arms and legs.
Big hands and peeks of tattoo ink sticking out from under his shirt collar.
And an overt laryngeal prominence Kat could never seem to take her eyes off of.
How utterly annoying.
“Hey, Danny. How are you feeling?” Stella asked.
“Like shit.” He shot Kat a look. “Pardon my French.”
As if Kat was some kind of prude.
She wanted to scream that she’d grown up in a rough neighborhood in a huge Italian family with crazy parents and four big-mouthed sisters. And that just because she wasn’t one of his party-animal sluts didn’t mean Kat couldn’t tear it up with the best of them.
Never mind a minute ago she’d been begging Stella to tone down the sex stuff. Or that she was a lab coat-wearing, medical conference-attending, Grade A nerd whose role in the Ciaramitaro family had always been – and would always be – as the level-headed one.
But that didn’t give Danny the right to judge her. Or apologize for using an innocuous curse word like shit.
Jerk.
“Yeah, Nathan said you had a little too much fun last night,” Stella said, shooting him a pointed glance. “Where did you go, anyway?”
“Some new club downtown called Epiphany.” Danny replied, shrugging. “Nothing special.”
“Sure looks like you had fun.” Kat smiled at Gia and nuzzled her cheek. “Not as much fun as we’re gonna have today, right, Gia?”
“Let me hold her for a second.”
When Danny walked in, Kat caught a distinctive whiff of alcohol.
She held Gia tighter, meeting his gaze. “Are you sober enough?”
Danny’s eyes narrowed. “Uh, yeah. I wouldn’t ask to hold her if I wasn’t.” When Kat narrowed her eyes, Danny scoffed. “What, you wanna administer me a Breathalyzer? Or maybe ask me to recite the alphabet backwards?”
Stella laughed, but Kat was not amused.
Danny took Gia and lifted her until they were eye-to-eye.
His face split into a huge grin when Gia starting babbling. “Hi, sweet baby! Hi, little darling!” He blew a raspberry into her belly and laughed when Gia pumped her legs up and down excitedly. “Yep, you’re my funny little martian, all right.”
Danny had taken one look at Gia’s ultrasound pic and from that day forward affectionately referred to Gia as his “funny little martian.”
Again, everyone else found it adorable, but, again, Kat was not amused.
Danny rested her against his broad chest, holding her with one hand. “This is the cutest damn kid ever, Stella. I was just telling Nathan that yesterday.” When Gia stared at Danny, babbling and smiling, he laughed. “And she clearly has impeccable taste in men.”
Kat hoped her afterthought cough covered up the enormous scoff. “Stella, did you write out a list of stuff for me?”
It was Stella’s turn to scoff. “Me? Nah, but Nathan did. A very detailed, minute-by-minute, every-possible-base-covered schedule complete with hospital phone numbers, CPR instructions, and schematics for where he keeps the fire extinguishers.” Stella rolled her eyes. “Anal.”
“I heard that,” Nathan called from the other room.
“He does know you’re only going to be gone for two hours, right? That you’re not moving to Siberia?” Kat asked. When Nathan grunted loudly, Stella and Kat laughed.
“I had to twist his arm to leave for even those two hours. But we’ve gotta run some errands that Little Miss Cranky Pants would not appreciate being dragged along on.” Stella stood. “I’ll go grab The Schedule from Hell.” She patted Danny’s arm on the way out.
Danny smiled at Gia and Eskimo-kissed her nose. “I could have babysat.”
Kat scoffed. “I’m sure Stella and Nathan didn’t know you’d be passing out on their couch.”
When Danny turned his gaze on her, Kat’s heart rate stupidly tripled. “I suppose you’d rather I drove drunk?”
“No, of course not. But you might have considered not drinking that much to begin with.”
“I might have, but that wouldn’t have been nearly as much fun.”
“I guess that depends on your definition of ‘fun.’”
“I guess so,” he shot back. After another quick squeeze, Danny handed Gia back. He smiled tightly at Kat. “Nice to see you. Have a good day.”
“You, too,” Kat choked out.
As he walked out, she rolled her eyes, but Kat wasn’t sure if it was at him, her, or the whole weird thing.
Kat was normally the farthest thing from judgmental, but for some reason, Danny MacDonough had rubbed her the wrong way from the moment she’d met him.
He was just so arrogant. And flippant. And too damn handsome for anyone’s good.
Kat remembered all the women ooh-ing and ahh-ing over him when he’d stopped by Stella’s baby shower to help Nathan with the gifts. Danny had smiled his charming smile and made a funny quip and every XX-chromosomed creature within a twenty-foot radius had nearly swooned.
A few gay XY’d ones, too.
It had been enough to make Kat want to barf.
Yes, Danny had been best friends with Nathan since childhood, and, yes, he’d been an amazing friend to Stella during a lot of drama that had gone on last year.
And, yes, sure, he could be mildly amusing at times and obviously Kat respected his professional position as a police officer.
But otherwise he was just so insufferable.
Hey, gray matter…taking notes?
Stella entered the baby’s bedroom and closed the door behind her. She turned to face Kat, dark brow quirked. “What did you say to Danny? He looked roughed up when he walked out of here.”
“Probably because I refuse to fall to my knees when he enters a room. Doesn’t he know I have MS? I’d never be able to get back up.”
Stella slowly crossed her arms over her chest and tilted her head to the side, her scrutiny making Kat want to squirm in the rocker.
“You are so hostile toward him,” Stella said. “Did he do or say something to offend you?”
“Of course not. Don’t be ridiculous.” Kat brushed an invisible piece of lint off of her yoga pants. “You know I don’t get offended. And I certainly don’t get offended by people I am indifferent towards, as that would be highly irrational. It’s obvious the man has an insecurity issue he’s projecting onto me. His problem, not mine.”
After a brief pause, Stella shrugged. She said, “Okay, if you say so,” but her tone said, “You are so full of shit and I will drag it out of you later.”
Stella turned and tossed a tube of A & D ointment and a container of baby wipes into a basket on the changing table.
“Ben asked me on a date last night,” Kat blurted quietly.
The last thing she wanted to do was get into one of Stella’s hash-and-rehash sessions, but
– for some reason, in that moment – it felt important to hear Stella’s opinion on the situation.
Kat was feeling uncharacteristically adrift. Emotionally. And, if there was one thing Stella was good at, it was being emotional and sorting out other people’s emotions.
Stella whipped around, eyes wide. “He did?” She sank to the floor, folded her legs up Indian-style, and propped her chin on her hand. “Tell me everything. Right. Now.”
“He suggested we go out to dinner…or to the opera next weekend. Maybe both.” Kat ran her fingers through Gia’s dark curls and lifted a shoulder. “At first I said, ‘no,’ and then I said, ‘fine.’”
“You said, ‘no,’ and then you said, ‘fine?’” Stella shook her head, brows furrowed. “What the hell, Kat?” She waved her hands wildly into the air. “Okay, okay, start from the beginning. What did he say and what did you say?”
“He asked me on a date and I said, ‘no.’ He started talking about how he understood me and, in a moment of great weakness, I agreed to hang out with him as friends,” Kat said. “The End.”
Stella’s expression remained firmly in What the Hell. “I don’t understand. He asked you on a date and now you’re going out…but not on a date.” When Kat nodded, Stella reared back. “Why? And what do you mean, he said he understood you?”
Kat huffed. “Why? Because I refused to go out romantically, so he proposed we go out as friends. As far as the understanding, he has no leg, mine doesn’t listen to what I tell it to do, so on and so forth. He reached for a commonality we share in an effort to get me to go out with him, I guess.” When Stella sat there, continuing to stare like a zombie, Kat rolled her eyes. “I don’t know what to tell you, Stell! I got put on the spot and I was sweating and I just went with it!”
“Why don’t you want to date him? You aren’t attracted to him?”
Kat shrugged again, eyes locked on the top of Gia’s head.
Because there was no way she was falling down that emotional wormhole with Stella right now.
“You said he was a good-looking guy…smart and nice.” Kat felt Stella’s eyes studying her profile. “Just not feeling that spark, huh?”
“I highly doubt I’m capable of feeling that spark, which is why I think it’s unwise to start hanging out with this guy on any level. But, like I said, I panicked.” Kat shrugged. “And one interaction isn’t going to hurt anything.”
Stella scoffed. “Oh, you’re capable, all right. You just haven’t met the right person yet.”
“Okay, I’ll rephrase that – I don’t want to feel any spark. All it leads to is bad decisions, hurt feelings, and hideous endings. Why anyone would voluntarily subject him or herself to that is beyond me.”
Especially when it involves me and all my crap.
“The problem is you don’t volunteer. It hits you whether you want it to or not,” Stella replied. “And the ending isn’t always hideous, Kat. Look at Nathan and me. Yeah, there were bad decisions and hurt feelings, but it worked out for us in the end. It could happen for you, too.”
Except you and Nathan aren’t slowly rotting away – dying – from the inside out.
At her official limit of feeling for the moment, Kat stood up and planted Gia on her hip.
“Uh, where are you going?” Stella asked.
“I’m going to let this kid pull out every pot, pan, and utensil in that kitchen.” She walked out of the room and into the hallway. “Come on, Gia,” she announced loudly. “Time to make a mess that’ll make your Daddy’s head explode.”
Nathan groaned.
*
Danny left Nathan and Stella’s (thankfully they’d been nice enough go pick up his car while Danny had slept off the booze) and drove back to his condo on the other end of West Cleveland. It was a really nice place Danny was pretty damn proud of. Sure, the mortgage payments were steep and it had cost him an arm and a leg to furnish the place, but all expenses had been worth it.
Simply because you couldn’t bring women back to a dump to screw.
Well, maybe other guys could, but that’s not how Danny rolled.
And since – other than his friendship with Nathan and his job – screwing was Danny’s whole life, he’d figured sinking most of his cash into creating a nice backdrop was a perfect investment.
It was all a part of the façade, as was the sleek black Audi he drove, the expensive clothes he wore, and the top-shelf liquor he stocked his granite and cherry wood bar with. All of it painted a picture of a guy who had his shit together. A guy who was thrilled with his life and secure in his choices. A guy who could take you or leave you and not really think about it much either way.
The truth was, Danny wasn’t looking to have anyone stick around long enough to take a second look. He positioned everything in his life so people didn’t have chances to do double-takes. The station BBQs he sometimes hosted lasted a few hours at the most. The other cops came for conversation, burgers, and booze…they weren’t looking to pry into Danny’s life.
And the screwing?
Well, even the most creative sessions only took a few hours. They mostly stuck to the bedroom, very little was discussed, and he always had his lovely ladies home by dawn at the absolute latest.
‘Cause he was a real fucking gentleman that way.
Danny pulled into the attached garage, turned off the car, and hit the remote garage door controller on the visor. As the door creaked and squeaked shut, Danny leaned his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes.
“God, I feel like shit,” he muttered into the darkness.
He was getting too old for this. Long gone were the days Danny could get shitfaced and/or high, sleep for a few hours, and then wake up ready to rock and roll. Thirty-three year old bodies simply couldn’t recover like twenty-three year old ones could, which was probably why most thirty-three year olds grew the hell up and respected their limits.
But not Danny.
And why should he, exactly? He had no wife to answer to and no kids to be responsible for. What would be the point of getting his shit together when he had no one to get his shit together for? Then he’d just be a straight arrow, sitting around the house alone…with too much time on his hands to think.
And feel.
Fuck that.
Danny dragged his ass out of the car and into the house. After tossing his keys on the counter, trudging up the stairs, and kicking his shoes off somewhere in the hallway, Danny face-planted onto his king-sized bed.
The $300 gray silk sheets felt nice and cool against his flushed skin. It was too quiet, so Danny flipped on ESPN and tossed the remote back onto the nightstand. He set his alarm for four o’clock, which would give him plenty of time to shower and get to the station in time for his five o’clock shift.
Danny pulled a pillow under his head, but instantly reared back at the strong scent of cloying perfume. He recognized it as the same stuff Rochelle had been wearing at the club last night.
With a grunt, he flipped the pillow over, happy to find it smelling only of Tide. He closed his eyes and soon his thoughts drifted back to the conversation he’d overheard back at Nathan and Stella’s house…something about Kat getting asked out on a date by some science-loving, engineering douchebag she barely knew at work.
And it had really chapped Danny’s hide.
It’s not like he gave a shit what she did in her private life. There was no way he’d ever start something up with the woman – fuck, no – but it pissed him off she could chat it up all sweet to a total stranger when she’d barely been able to speak a civil word to Danny in eighteen months.
Danny, who was her brother-in-law’s best friend and partner.
Danny, who had been a rock for Stella during some rough times with Nathan last year.
Danny, who had scared the shit out of the guy who had roughed-up Fiorella. Danny, who had never been anything but polite, friendly, and helpful to her entire family.
Danny figured there was only one explanation: his very existence
offended her to her snotty, judgmental core. Obviously Stella had told Kat some wild stories she’d heard from Nathan and Kat had decided Danny didn’t live up to her high moral standards.
Well, screw her and the high horse she rode in on, then.
Danny had never apologized for his choices and he sure as hell wasn’t going to start now. Especially not to her.
But then he thought about her disease and instantly felt like a huge asshole.
It was a horrible disease…a disease that for some stupid reason Danny sometimes spent hours thinking about. And Googling.
Yeah, MS was some serious shit and Danny had decided a long time ago that Kat’s pain and struggles entitled her to pretty much do whatever she wanted, including being a huge bitch to him.
But her MS didn’t explain why she was nice to everyone but him.
Because you don’t fool her. Because she, more than anyone else, sees right through your bullshit, right down to your repulsive, rotten core. Because you are as worthless as she thinks you are and she’s the only one with balls big enough to be honest to your face.
Some sudden, seriously ugly self-deprecation veered Danny’s thoughts right back to childhood…back to the filth of his parents’ shithole and their neglect, the abusive foster homes, and the quiet despair of state-run juvie.
Back to things that had happened and shit he’d had to do to survive.
Danny’s eyelids snapped open, heart pounding and a light sheen of sweat coating his body. He forced himself to register the cool softness of the sheets against his skin, see the light from the TV flickering, and identify the bulky forearm clutching the pillow as his own.
Danny kept his eyes open, focusing on the muscles of his forearm, when all he watched to do was squeeze them shut.
I am not a little boy anymore.
I am not weak anymore.
I am no longer at anyone’s mercy and I sure as fuck have no reason to be scared.
I own this home, own that car, and make my own money. I will never be at anyone’s mercy again.