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  RASCAL

  McCallan Brothers

  Book Two

  Lea Hart

  Copyright © 2018 by Lea Hart

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Lea Hart

  Visit my website at www.leahartauthor.com

  DEDICATION

  For My Daughters, My Heartbeat

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  I would like to thank Grace Wynter for her editorial wisdom.

  Love always won, no matter what it took.

  Fair or not, true or not.

  Love won.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Zach walked into the wedding reception at the Bakersfield Country Club and followed a woman with enough curves to make the racetrack at Daytona look like a straightaway. Letting his eyes run over her figure, he bit the inside of his cheek to keep from groaning and knew attending his buddy’s wedding no longer was going to be torture.

  In fact, it was going to be his damn pleasure.

  Praying to a god he wasn’t sure existed, he asked for the blessing of being seated next to the untouchable goddess and hoped he’d managed enough good deeds to make it possible.

  When she stopped at his assigned table, he let out a slow breath and got his first glimpse of her face. “Goddamn,” he muttered. He’d never seen a more tempting woman in his life.

  Tilted, warm-whiskey eyes beckoned him closer, along with a lush mouth that suggested paradise on earth was, in fact, possible.

  Feet moving without thought, he cut across the remaining space that separated them and arrived just in time to pull out her chair. “Allow me.”

  “To do what,” she asked with a laugh.

  Looking down, he gave her a smile that he hoped conveyed he was not only prince fucking charming but someone whom she should trust. “Since we’re going to be spending the evening together, it’s probably best if we start off on the right note, and I show you what a gentleman I can be.”

  She picked up the place card next to hers and wrinkled her nose. “You don’t look like a Norbert Gumquist.”

  Taking the card out of her hand, he flicked it across the table and leaned over, picking up the one with his name on it. “Norbert is now sitting on the other side of the table. Hope that’s not going to be a problem.”

  She let out a small laugh and then looked away. “You’re a rascal.”

  “Might be,” he replied as he leaned against the table. “Guess, you’re going to have to get to know me to find out.”

  “The bride thought Norbert and I would hit it off, so why should I bother with the likes of you?”

  Smirking, he plastered on his best cocksure grin. “Either she doesn’t know you very well or doesn’t have your best interest at heart.” He bit back a groan as he let his eyes graze over her generous curves and moved closer. “Because you’re not a woman who needs a ‘Norbert’ in her life. In fact, it would be criminal.”

  “Misty and I were good friends in high school and college, so I doubt it’s either of those things.”

  “Well, it’s too bad he’s not here to stake his claim, then.”

  “Are you staking?”

  “My claim?”

  “Yes.”

  “I sure the hell am,” he replied. “I’m Zach McCallan, by the way, and I will be your copilot for the evening.”

  “And where do you plan on taking me, Zach?”

  “Wherever you’ll let me.”

  One perfect eyebrow rose in response, and he knew she could handle him, no problem. Then a luminous smile lit up her face, piercing his nearly-dead heart, and he understood she could decimate him with very little effort.

  “To the moon and back,” she replied quietly. “That’s where I’d let you take me.”

  “Fuuuuuck,” he whispered. “You’re bringing the heavy artillery in early.”

  Letting her hand run down her neck, she tilted her head. “You look like you can handle it, but if not,” her eyes moved over him slowly, “just let me know.”

  Stepping even closer, he lifted her hand and pressed a small kiss to her warm, soft skin. “Bring it, baby, ‘cause I’d love nothing more than to handle whatever you’ve got.”

  “That’s a lot of swagga you’ve got going on for so early in the evening.”

  “Not swagga, just me stating my willingness to take you on.”

  “Said every man, before he knew what it would entail,” she replied, stepping back.

  “Baby, you just met your match.”

  “Maybe.”

  Using every ounce of discipline he’d learned in the Marines, Zach jammed his hands into his slacks and somehow managed to keep himself from digging them into her hips and pulling her in close. “No maybe in my vocabulary, only absofuckinglutely.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind, because seeing what absofuckinglutly looks like could be interesting.”

  Momentarily entranced, he soaked in the warmth of her wicked gaze and knew he’d do just about anything to keep every ounce of her attention for himself.

  Greedy.

  That’s what she made him feel.

  And possessive.

  Hearing people approach, he glanced over his shoulder and knew he had to get himself under control, ‘cause the train of want he was on was bound to crash if he didn’t take a beat.

  He sucked in a long, slow breath and then nodded toward the chair that separated them. “Let’s get to know one another and see how soon we can leave on our trip to the moon.” Laughing, she lowered herself slowly and he kept himself close enough to enjoy her scent.

  Cloves and cinnamon.

  And something so fucking rich, his head spun with a million crazy ideas.

  But before any of those ideas could become reality, they needed to get to know one another. So, he made sure she was comfortable, and then took his own seat, settling his big body into the too-small chair. Feeling her knee graze his, he found himself smiling until she moved it away almost instantly. That won’t do, he thought as he adjusted and made sure their legs were side by side. Picking up her place card, he grinned. “Cecily Baker, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  Turning, she let her gaze run over his face. “I went to school with a Seth McCallan. Are you two related?”

  “Yes, he’s my little brother.” She searched his face once again, and he held his breath, hoping like hell the old shit from high school wasn’t going to be a barrier preventing them from getting to know one another. “Did you hang around with his crowd?”

  Picking up her napkin, she took her time placing it on her lap and then looked up. “No, we definitely didn’t hang out in the same group.”

  “Guess that makes sense, since you were probably a cheerleader and too cool for his ass.”

  “Are you kidding me?” she asked, scowling. “Am I being punk’d?”

  Confused by her response, he shook his head. “No!”

  She wrinkled her nose and shifted her body away, making the air around them turn cool, and he had no idea how he’d insulted her.

  “Just say it, Zach, and get it over with.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Turning his body, he searched her face for a clue. “You’re fucking gorgeous, so saying you’re a cheerleader, or the damn homecoming queen for that matter, is probably not far off the mark.”

  She straightened her
fork and let out a long sigh. “It’s very far off the mark since my nickname in school was Tow-Truck Cecily or just fatty. I wore glasses, had braces until junior year and was bullied almost every day until I decided I’d had enough and graduated early.”

  “I guess that answers my question about which crowd you hung out with?”

  Her shoulders dropped, and she let out a small laugh. “I liked the theater crowd and was a valued member of the chess club.”

  “Most of my friends were into cars, weed and body building, so I’m guessing we don’t have friends in common.”

  “There were a lot of rumors swirling around about you back in the day, and I never asked your brother if any of them were true.”

  “Is that your way of asking me?”

  Shrugging, she smoothed out her dress. “Not really.”

  “I’ve got nothing to hide, so if you ever change your mind, let me know.” Watching a small smile form, he let out a breath and prayed they were done reliving their high school glory days.

  “Okay.”

  Nodding, he watched several people walk up and take their seats, including a disgruntled Norbert. The guy wasn’t a wimp like his name suggested and looked like a gym rat who probably spent a lot of time taking selfies.

  Everyone introduced themselves, and when Norbert took Cecily’s hand, Zach saw the guy’s raw attraction and wondered what she was going to do about it.

  Sitting up, he waited.

  Nothing.

  That’s what she did. A polite smile, a short handshake and then she moved on to the next person, giving nothing away.

  Disappointment flared on the guy’s face and then suspicion as they met one another’s gaze. Looking Norbert straight in the eye when they shook hands, Zach silently dared him to make a move.

  Which of course he didn’t, since men who got their muscles in the gym rarely went up against men who acquired theirs in battle.

  Nodding to Norbert as he took his seat, he draped his arm on the back of Cecily’s chair and marked her as his in case the guy entertained any lingering ideas. Not sure if Cecily would welcome his bullshit move, he stilled and then let out a long breath when she leaned back and made polite conversation with the woman who’d taken the seat next to her.

  So far so good.

  Feeling his shirt stick to his back, he knew he’d made it through the first round, and the evening ahead was going to be no different than the hundreds of battles he’d been in before.

  But this wasn’t the usual boy-girl thing, and he needed to strategize accordingly.

  Years of combat had taught him to take his time when he could and be ready to act when necessary.

  Guessing the woman would rabbit if he made more of a full-frontal assault, he decided his next move needed to be an indirect approach. “Dislocation is the aim of strategy,” he said to himself quietly.

  Feeling Cecily’s shoulder brush his chest, he moved closer and inhaled her warm scent, knowing he was prepared to do whatever was necessary.

  ***

  Cecily watched Zach walk toward the bar and couldn’t believe they’d found so many things to talk about. Glancing down at her watch, she noticed it was close to eleven, which meant they’d managed to converse for five hours with barely a break.

  Even Norbert and his many interruptions hadn’t derailed them, and considering how persistent the guy had been, it was surprising.

  Mr. Gumquist, self-proclaimed influencer and personal trainer, had taken every opportunity to insert himself into their conversation. She guessed it was a matter of pride that made him do it and not any real interest. The too tan, too polished boy toy with his Instagram life was not appealing in any way, and she didn’t know why Misty had ever considered them a match.

  Zach, on the other hand, was a whole different story.

  He was sizzle and pop and she didn’t have a clue how to handle it.

  Advance or retreat.

  Dare to do something or shy away from the flame?

  Shaking her head at her own stupid internal monologue, she silently instructed herself to get it together, because letting old stuff get in the way would be idiotic.

  Especially since they’d moved seamlessly together during the many dances they’d shared earlier. Not only had he been light on his feet, commanding in his lead and gentle in his touch when they moved around the dance floor, he smelled freaking fantastic.

  And he made her feel feminine.

  Something that rarely occurred since she topped out at close to 5’11’’ in heels. Add to that her statuesque build and there were few men who could hold her comfortably in their arms.

  But Zach had, and it had been lovely.

  Scratch that, it had been incredible.

  Feeling a tingle run down her back, she lifted her hair off her neck as she watched him return. “Thank you,” she murmured, accepting the glass of champagne he’d brought.

  “My pleasure.” Taking a seat, he dropped his arm over her shoulder and leaned back. “After you drink that, let’s have another dance and then…”

  “What?” she asked, leaning forward.

  “I don’t know…take a walk, a drive, grab a burger, see a movie, whatever keeps us in each other’s company.”

  “Do you always come on this strong with women you sit next to at weddings?”

  “I’ve never come on this strong to anyone in my life.”

  Placing her glass down, she sat back. “I doubt that.”

  “I spent ten years in the Marines, so there wasn’t a whole lot of time for skirt chasing, and the last two years have been packed with work as my brothers and I build our security business.”

  “Interesting,” she commented as she looked over the rim of her glass. “And do you live this alleged monastic life in Bakersfield?”

  “No,” he replied with a laugh. “And I didn’t say I was a monk.”

  “Then where do you live your debauched life?”

  Laughing, he moved closer. “I live in Vegas and it’s not debauched either.”

  “Hard to believe that’s true in Sin City.”

  “It’s mostly true.”

  “Cryptic.”

  “Kinda got spooked with the last question, so I’m picking my words carefully.”

  “Do you have a lot to be spooked about?”

  “I think most people do, if they’re honest.”

  “Maybe.” Setting her champagne glass down, she pushed back her chair. “I’m going to the lady’s room.” She stood and grabbed her bag. “I’ll think about where you can take me, and let you know when I return.”

  “I’m counting on it.”

  Smoothing out her dress, she repeated her favorite affirmation and told herself there was nothing wrong with her size sixteen hips. In fact, there was a whole lot right, and anyone who thought differently could kiss her very generous, round ass.

  And that included the man giving her a very slow once over.

  Oh hell, she thought, he could do whatever he wanted.

  Walking back into the reception, she looked around and spotted Zach near the bar with a leggy blond wearing an inviting smile, draped over him. “Plot twist,” she murmured as she stepped back and leaned against the wall.

  “Maybe he won’t,” she whispered, waiting for the scene to unfolded. “Maybe he’s as good as he seems and…fuck.” Watching his large hand slide slowly down the woman’s back, she held her breath and then let it out when it landed smack dab on the woman’s very pert, very small ass. “And there you have it, folks, blondie bimbo for the win.”

  Not wanting to see more, she threw her hair over her shoulder, turned and walked out of the room. “Every freaking time,” she mumbled as she strode down the hall. “Just once I’d like to see a different ending.”

  Hearing footsteps, she prayed it wasn’t anyone she knew and glanced briefly over her shoulder. Norbert was hot on her heels. “Perfect,” she murmured as she picked up her pace.

  “Wait up, Cecily!”

  Stopping, she
pasted a fake smile on her face and watched him jog up. “I’m about to head out.”

  “Need a ride?”

  Looking up, she noticed his gray eyes were filled with sympathy and knew instantly he’d seen Zach and his new girl. “No thanks. I’m going to call an Uber.”

  “I’ve got my car here and would happily take you wherever you need to go.”

  “That’s very nice of you.”

  Shrugging, he shoved his hands in his pocket. “I was looking forward to getting to know you, so if giving you a ride allows me the chance then I’ll take it.”

  “Why?”

  “Misty told me all about you, and I think we have a lot in common.”

  Laughing, she raised an eyebrow. “No offense, Norbert, but in what universe do you and I have a lot in common? We come from completely different planets.”

  “Not true, unless you really buy into the whole Venus, Mars thing.”

  “You’re a…” she waved her hands around and groaned. “An influencer or trainer or whatever.”

  Looking down at his feet, he let out a sigh. “Not really.”

  “But that’s what you said earlier,” she said, stepping back.

  “I thought it sounded a lot cooler than software developer.”

  “But the tan, the muscles and blindingly white smile…”

  “Is part of my new look.”

  “How new?”

  “Four years, one hundred and forty-two days and seven hours.”

  Laughing, she put her hand on his arm. “Something tells me, there’s more to you than meets the eye.”

  He smoothed out his tie and lifted an eyebrow. “Did you think I was a bad boy?”

  “No, I thought you were a douche, with all your talk about social media and training.”

  “That’s not what I was going for.”

  “Why don’t you just be yourself and see what happens?”

  “I’ve tried that, and the results were not impressive.”

  “You should try again, because you’ve been a lot more likeable in the last two minutes then you were all evening.”