Redeeming (Red Lips & White Lies Book 2)
Redeeming: Part 3 – Chapter 19

Part 3

Nattie

Is today the day?

Murphy

That Brady realizes you’re fucking nuts?

Carys

Be nice, Murph.

Murphy

Listen, I’m still cleaning green glitter out of my car from Thanksgiving.

Nattie

You deserved that.

Declan

What day?

Carys

Do you live under a rock, Dec?

Declan

Sorry. I have a job, Carys. A kinda important one.

Nattie

Ohh. Did you hear that? He’s important.

Declan

Whatever. What did I miss? Did they change Dad’s treatment?

Nattie

No. It’s Callen and Caitlin’s appointment. She’s twenty weeks, so Callen said they’re going to replace out the sex of the baby.

Carys

Cooper and Callen are on a run this morning. I’ll ask him what time the appointment is when they get in and let you know.

I jog into Cooper’s kitchen as he chants the theme song from Rocky.

“Dude, it wasn’t a race.” I laugh as Carys shakes her head from across the island and slides a tray of sugar cookies in the oven. The house smells like Christmas on crack.

“Dude,” Coop mocks me. “Sounds like something a loser would say.”

“Ignore him, Callen. He’s old and has to prove his masculinity.” She smiles, and Coop smacks her ass.

“Pretty sure I already proved that this morning.”

Carys blushes and tucks her hair behind her ear, and I look away.

“Come on, guys . . . I’m good. I don’t need to see it.” I groan and raid their fridge for a bottle of water.

“Sorry, little brother.” Carys pulls away from Cooper and takes her tea over to the kitchen table. “Today’s the big day, right?”

“Yeah. In about two hours,” I tell her, equal parts excited and freaked the fuck out. The family has taken the news well. They’re happy for us, but in typical fashion for my family, they want to be overly involved. Mom’s ready to buy baby clothes already. Carys needed to tell her no. I think Dad already ordered a Kings jersey. “So, you want to tell me what it’s going to be like?”

Lines pinch Carys’s forehead as confusion sets in. “Being a parent?”

“No, the doctor’s visit,” I admit sheepishly. I’m not even thinking about when the baby gets here. I’m not sure it’s possible for me to think that far ahead when I’m struggling to get through the day-to-day with Caitlin. Being so close to her and somehow being as far apart as we’ve ever been is fucking killing me. I guess that’s why I’ve been trying to read everything I can about the pregnancy. When all else fails, I prepare. Study. Learn everything I can. Whether it’s watching tapes or apparently, reading every baby book I can get my hands on. “I mean, I’ve read a few of the books.” Lies. I’ve read them all. “But I figured you did this all with Nattie when she was doing the whole surrogate thing for you, right? You were at all the appointments. Does it hurt? The sonogram? What am I supposed to do for her?”

“Callen . . .” She lays her hand on my arm and squeezes. “Haven’t you talked to Caitlin about it?”

My heart sinks.

I knew I’d have my work cut out for me, but I guess I didn’t think it would be this bad.

“Yeah.” Cooper sucks air in through his teeth. “Our boy isn’t exactly talking to his baby mama.”

“Asshole.” I flip the cap of the water bottle at him, but the fucker catches it like Mr. Miyagi catching a fly. I already told him Caitlin and I are struggling to replace a new normal. Less her and more me. She seems fine with being pissed. I’m the one trying to fix it. To fix us. Because there’s no way this is how it’s supposed to be. Supposed to end. We don’t end. I refuse to accept anything else.

“Maybe. But I’m not wrong. How the hell are you living together but not talking?” He tosses me back the cap. “I know you can talk to girls. I’ve watched you do it.”

Carys looks at Coop like he’s stupid. “But this isn’t any girl. It’s his girl.” She sighs with a dreamy look in her eyes, like she thinks this is some kind of fairytale. And that right there . . . that my girl, that’s what I keep thinking. She’s mine. She always was. I just have to get her to remember that. “Why aren’t you talking to her?”

“Other way around.” Cooper makes a motion with his hands, so I do the same, only I flip him the fuck off instead of making a turning motion.

Brothers are dicks.

“Mom . . . I need lunch money on my card,” my niece Lexy yells as she races into the kitchen and grabs her keys off the wall. “Hurry up, guys.”

She turns to look at us and lights up when she sees me. “Uncle Callen,” she squeals and throws her arms around my neck before the twins follow her down. Lincoln and Lochlan saunter in, in Christmas pajama bottoms with Cousin Eddie from National Lampoon all over them and Kroydon Hills football hoodies.

Oh, to be the big-shit senior in high school again.

Damn things were easier back then.

“Pajamas?” I ask as I hug both boys.

Lexie’s smile could light up the whole damn town when she looks at her brothers. “Last day of school before the holiday break. It’s always pajama day.”

She opens her puffer coat and shows me her red and white candy-cane leggings, and I keep my mouth shut. These kids have gotten so old. They chat with their parents for a hot second before all three rush through the door, and my head spins a little. “Man. You’ve got six months left before graduation. That’s nuts.”

“Enjoy all these firsts, Callen. One day, you’re holding a newborn. The next, they’re eighteen and looking at colleges. Trust us. It’s rough,” Cooper takes the seat between me and Carys. “Now, what are you going to do about getting Caitlin to talk to you?”

I shrug, fucking frustrated. With myself. With Caitlin. With the whole situation.

“I’m going to wait her out, I guess. We barely speak most days. Not that she’s really speaking to anyone besides her mom, Bellamy, and one or two friends. And I get it. I do. I hurt her. But how do you get the most stubborn woman you’ve ever met to forgive you when she won’t acknowledge you’re in the room?”

“Ask your sister.” Cooper tugs Carys closer. “I mean, if you want the most stubborn woman I know to tell you what would work for her.”

She smiles like he’s not wrong. “Okay . . . So she hasn’t forgiven Sam yet either, right?” Carys sounds like she’s watching a soap opera, not listening to my life. She’s enjoying it all a little too much.

“No. Not him or Maddox. Most days, she’s pissed at Rome and Lucky just for the hell of it. She’s always pissed at me.” I know I’m fucked up because when I think about the way she’ll walk by me without saying a word or making eye contact, I smile. She’s cute as hell when she’s pissed, but I’m pretty sure she doesn’t want to hear that now. “Wanna give me some girl advice?”

She pauses with her mug halfway to her mouth. “Let me think on it.”

“What did you get her for Christmas?” Cooper asks, and I look away, fucking pissed I didn’t even think of that.

“Christmas is in four days, Callen.” Carys’s green eyes narrow, and she smacks the table in front of me as her oven beeps. “Please tell me you’re not that dense.”

“Think again,” Coop warns her, and I keep my mouth shut because he’s not wrong.

“I’m not even going to be home for Christmas, guys. We fly out to Arizona in two days and won’t be back until after midnight on the 25th. Christmas will be over,” I’m not sure why I’m bothering to defend myself—my sister obviously thinks I’m stupid. She’s probably right.

“She’s the mother of your unborn child, Callen. Have you seen the size of the Sinclair babies’ heads? She’s literally going to push a watermelon out of her vagina.” My face contorts as a mental picture flashes before my eyes, and I shiver.

“Nice visual, Carys,” I bitch as she pulls a tray of cookies out of the oven.

“Buy her a Christmas present and kiss her ass, Callen. You broke her heart. Ignoring each other isn’t going to fix it. You have to prove to her that you’re in this. That you only did it because you thought you had no choice.”

I finish my water and toss it in the trash, then drop a kiss on the top of Carys’s head. “I’m trying.”

“Words are weak, little brother. Try harder.” She points a red and green spatula at me. “You’ve got four months left before the baby is born, and they’re going to be over before you know it. Fix this before you miss this window and you’re both too exhausted from lack of sleep and diaper blowouts to even think about romance. Romance her.” She smacks my knuckles as I steal a cookie. “Now go and send the chat a pic as soon as you replace out if I’m getting a niece or nephew.”

Cooper grips my shoulder. “And make sure Caitlin knows I’m five minutes away if she needs anything while you’re gone.”

“Thanks, man. Her dad still has Jude on her, but I’ll make sure she knows.”

“Hope the kid doesn’t talk as much as his mom,” Cooper smiles at Carys.

“Stop it, Cooper. Chloe doesn’t talk that much,” she defends her business partner and Jude’s mother.

“Pretty sure he takes after his dad more than his mom,” I tell them both. “I mean, he’s built like Dean. And quiet like most of the Beneventis, even if he looks like Chloe. So there’s that. Gotta go, guys. Wish me luck.”

“Luck . . .” Carys calls back as I walk out of the house, fairly fucking sure I just heard Cooper smack her ass and tell her to strip.

My family is a bunch of horny motherfuckers.

Caitlin

Bellamy

It’s the big day. You ready?

Caitlin

God, yes. I’m tired of referring to my baby as a weird little assortment of fruits.

Bellamy

What’s it this week? A kumquat?

Caitlin

A what?

Bellamy

I don’t know. It’s just a fun word. Is Callen going with you to the appointment?

Caitlin

Yes. I’m tempted to make Jude drive me so I’m not stuck in a car with Callen.

Bellamy

Try to enjoy the appointment, Cait. This is exciting.

Caitlin

I know. I’m going to try. I’ve just been extra hormonal this week, and I don’t think Christmas is helping any. I’ve never not spent it without my family.

Bellamy

Is your mom still making your dad sleep on the couch in the office?

Caitlin

As of last week, yes.

Bellamy

Are you doing the big Christmas dinner with the Kingstons?

Caitlin

I don’t think I feel like it this year. Addie and I were talking about spending it volunteering at the soup kitchen instead with her sister.

Bellamy

Oh, I didn’t realize Coraline was home. Wish I could do that with you. I’ve got to be at the hospital at ten, so I’m house-hopping between Cross and Ares’s houses to see the kids, then heading in. Are we still doing a girls’ Christmas Eve?”

Caitlin

Absolutely.

Bellamy

Perfect. Good luck at your appointment.

Caitlin

XOXO

I stuff my phone in my pocket as I look around at Callen’s very un-Christmasy house and want to cry. I want to be happy today. It’s a big day. But instead of being excited, I’ve been fighting tears all morning. Everly closed the showroom and offices until after the new year, so I’m stuck here in hell with the Grinch.

And just like that, the green bastard with a tiny little heart appears. Damn it. If he was actually green and ugly, it might make all this easier. But of course he’s not. He’s Callen. No man on the planet looks better in sweats and a hoodie than this man does, and instead of turning me on, it pisses me off.

Okay. So that’s a lie.

It turns me on too—because lately, when I’m not ready to cry, I’m ready to scream in frustration. Sexual frustration. There’s a reason you should be in a relationship when you’re pregnant. Sure, it’d be nice to have a partner to help with the baby. But it would be even nicer to have a partner to help with the orgasms. I can’t look at Callen without first thinking about how much I want to kill him, then deciding I’d rather fuck him.

Occasionally, I think it in the other order.

Either way, I’m not going there.

Not again.

So I ignore him instead. But not today. Today is our first appointment together with Kenzie. Because that’s not going to be uncomfortable at all. My cousin and one of his best friends checking out my vagina. It should be a regular party. Yay! Not.

Fuck. And now I want to cry again.

“Hey, kitten,” Callen stops in front of me and pulls a bunch of bananas from behind his back. “I got you something.”

I look from them to him, confused. “I’m sure you’re trying to tell me something, but I have absolutely no idea what, so I’m just going to say no. We need to leave in an hour.”

I brush past him, and he grabs my arm, sending an electric current coursing through my body, and if looks could actually kill, he’d be dead on the floor where he stands. But this brave man doesn’t let go.

“Did you know the baby is the size of a banana today?”

And just like that, the tears are back.

Fuck you, Callen Sinclair.

I swallow down the emotion. At least I try. “You’re not going to eat them, right? Because that would be weird.”

His smile stretches across his entire face, and the first teeny, tiny shard of my heart feels like it might have just slid back into place. “No. I’m not going to eat them. I just thought today was the last time we’d probably refer to our baby as a fruit and wanted to commemorate it.”

He hands me the bananas, and this time, I take them.

“I was hoping we could get lunch after the appointment. We need to talk,” he tells me without ever taking his hand off me, and I swear, it’s making it hard to think.

I absolutely despise from the depths of my soul that he’s right. We do need to talk. But it’ll be on my terms. Not his.

“I want a Christmas tree.”

Callen looks confused at first. Then the fucker looks cocky, and damn him for it looking so good. “Lunch first, then we get you whatever tree you want, kitten.”

I yank my arm away before I jump his stupid, annoying bones.

“Tree first, then takeout. I’m not sitting in public with you,” I counter.

He steps into my space, and my traitorous heart skips a beat. “Tree first, then lunch at The Busy Bee, and I’ll buy you whatever decorations you want for the tree.”

“Fine,” I agree but refuse to let him have the last word. Partly because I’m not ready to give in, but mostly because demanding, commanding Callen is really . . . really hot. Not that I’m going to be telling him that any time soon. Wait. Any time period. Not soon. Not later. Stupid, traitorous hormones. “I want the whole house decorated if I have to go to lunch. All of it, Callen. Not just the tree. I want lights outside. I want garland on the fireplace. I want a stocking for Cupcake. If you’re going to try to buy my forgiveness, which isn’t going to happen, I’m going to bankrupt you.”

I walk away and drop the bananas off in the kitchen as Callen laughs.

“You can try,” he laughs, and it sounds so good.

Too good.

I try to ignore him as I pretty much stomp my way upstairs to the guest room I’ve claimed as mine—because there was no way I was going to share a room with Callen—while a familiar mantra repeats in my mind.

I will not kill Callen Sinclair.

Only now, it should probably be you cannot kill your baby’s daddy.