Page 3 of Imperfect Skin

“Do you like it?”

“Love it, Squirt. What shoes are you going to wear?” Alice was a child of whimsy, and I had to admit, I delighted in watching clothing choices she made. Callum had long ago given up trying to dictate his precocious nine-year-old’s fashion choices.

“Bumblebee leggings and my yellow, sparkly sneakers,” she announced, coming into the bathroom further. “Could you help with my hair? Dad tried, but…” She gave a dramatic sigh.

I laughed, lifting Alice up and setting her on the bathroom counter. She held out her glittery tiara and scrunchie for me.

“I think your dad’s choice in haircuts says all you need to know about his skills at doing hair. Now, let’s see what we can do. You want it in a princess up-do?” I scooped up her curly hair so it sat on the top of her head, spilling down in ringlets.

“That would be the best. Dad was just going to braid it again.” Alice rolled her eyes theatrically.

I fiddled with bobby pins and hair spray until Alice was nodding happily. Her tiara sat slightly askew, but that added to the Princess of Chaos image she was going for. I loved this kid. She was everything good in this world. If I could bottle her and Rhys, I could make a fortune selling the endorphins those two oozed.

“What’s all this, then?” Callum poked his head into the small bathroom, giving Alice and I an appraising look.

“Mouse made my hair perfect.” Alice twisted around to look in the mirror, poking her tongue out at me as she did. I couldn’t let a challenge like that go, and returned the gesture.

“Remind me again which one of you is nine and which one is twenty-eight?”

Callum was wearing a simple white dress shirt, the top few buttons undone to show off the ink on his chest, and a black waistcoat thrown on top. His jeans looked like they were painted on, and I tried unsuccessfully not to ogle. It was getting harder to ignore the return of my youthful crush on the man, especially since I now lived in his house.

I saw my appraisal of Callum had not gone unnoticed by the smirk he shot me in the mirror.

Oops. Busted.

Callum tilted his head, and I swore he was checking my arse out. I mean, we’d flirted and mucked about, but never seriously. It was a game and harmless fun. But I still felt a slight thrill when I caught him checking me out.

“Dad, doesn’t Mouse’s make-up look good?” Alice grabbed my face in her small hands, forcing me to turn my head towards Cal.

Callum pushed off from the doorframe and moved into my personal space. I wasn’t expecting his hand to come up, or for his thumb to brush against my cheek.

“There was a bit of a smudge. Sorry, yeah. He looks fab, just like you, my darling.” Callum stepped back, picking Alice up in his arms.

“We’d better get a move on, the party starts soon,” Alice leaned forwards in Callum’s arms and grabbed a gentle handful of my beard, before smooching a kiss against my cheek. “You’re the best.”

I shrugged, not really knowing what to say. Even after living here for the last six months, it was still odd to me how open Alice was with her affections. It had been eye-opening, living with the two of them. We felt like some strange little family, but I wasn’t stupid enough to think this was anything more than Cal helping me out. Once I had enough money saved and my head on straight, I’d find a place in town and get out of Callum’s hair. I couldn’t help but feel like I’d put a crimp in the man’s dating life. He barely went out, apart from work and the occasional trip to Leeds.

“Oi, quit your wool-gathering. You look gorgeous. If we’re any later, your brother is going to have a conniption. I swear, that man is more highly strung about this damn party than Rhys is,” Callum muttered as he headed back downstairs.

I grinned, stuck on the fact Callum said I looked gorgeous. “You said I looked gorgeous. I’m not forgetting that!” I yelled down the hall after him. I could hear him cursing softly.

Callum pulled his Land Rover into one of the parking spaces at the back of the hall. I could see Simon’s old Defender parked near the back doors of the hall and Dad’s Volvo was parked alongside. The car was the same model as my mum’s old one. It still made my heart lurch every time I saw it. Sy had offered to sell it and find something new, but I knew he loved the old thing, and I wasn’t going to make him give up something just because I was still having trouble getting over what happened nine years ago.

I’d wrecked the car and killed our mum. She was dead and I walked away with a fuckload of scars, and I’d be lying if I said there was a day that went past that I didn’t wish our places had been swapped. Living with Cal and Alice had helped to quiet down some of the mess in my head, but I knew that the scars—the emotional ones—wouldn’t go away. Not unless I was willing to talk to someone about it. And that, my dear friends, was not going to happen. I didn’t have anything against therapy. It was doing fucking wonders for Rhys. But what he’d been put through was different to what I’d done. Rhys deserved a chance at a good life with my brother, and tonight we were going to celebrate that fact.

Hopefully they would all focus on Sy and Rhys tonight and not start asking me if I was dating or some shit. The thump of the car door pulled me out of my head. Alice dashed past in an explosion of neon taffeta.

“You okay?” Callum’s voice made me jump. I thought he’d gotten out of the car.

“Jesus! Scare the life out of a guy.” I flapped my hand making a shooing motion, but Cal just arched a silver brow, turning in his seat to face me.

“You must have been pretty deep in that head of yours not to notice I was still here.”

I unbuckled my seat belt, hoping I could make a quick exit, but Cal stopped my hand as I went to move. Being stuck in the close confines of Callum’s car with the man himself was not where I wanted to be. He was too shrewd and saw through my bullshit too easily. I took a deep breath and the woodsy scent of his cologne tickled my nose. The smell of it was throughout the house and on his clothes. I don’t know when it had started to signify home and safety to me, but it had, and that worried the hell out of me. I had shoved my feelings and childish desires so far back into my psyche that you’d need a map, compass, and Sir Edmund Hillary to find them, and I wasn’t going to let the handsome fucker ruin my hard work.

“Just thinking we’ll have a wedding soon. Alice is going to have a blast now that Rhys has told her she’s the flower girl.” I fussed with the cuff of my shirt, refusing to meet Cal’s gaze.

“True enough, but that’s not what this is. I saw you look at that rust bucket of Simon’s. You know he’d get rid of it, right? You know we’re here for you.” Callum’s voice normally had the ability to calm me when I was at my most chaotic, but right now, I wanted to scream in his face. I wanted to curse him for seeing through my bluff, for noticing I wasn’t doing okay.

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