Call You Mine (The Baker’s Creek Billionaire Brothers #4) - Claudia Burgoa Page 0,23

the point of dirty talk.

I ran out of spoons to deal with the outside world. If Beacon wasn’t about to go into his annual “I don’t care about the world” retreat, I’d be calling him. He’d skip his twenty-four hours of wallowing for me. He’d also skip town.

Beacon finds anything as a good excuse to show his brothers that he can break rules and never get caught. Not that they know about it.

“We’ll have to do it without him, Mozzy,” I tell my cat, who is licking his paws.

While cooking my dinner, I receive a text from Seth.

Seth: You coming over? The ’rents are worried.

Big Sis: No, I’m tired. I’m staying home to rest.

“Are you okay?” Mom calls me right away.

“Yes.” I grunt, chastising myself for saying, “I’m tired.”

Unlike many, I can’t use that as an excuse because it means something different to my family. For them, it means my insulin levels are out of whack and I need to go to the hospital.

“Seth mentioned you’re not feeling well.”

“Mom, I’m fine,” I assure her. “If I weren’t feeling well, I’d call. Plus, my insulin pump has an alarm that alerts Dad.”

Dad is a computer geek who likes to invent gadgets. Mom has had type 1 diabetes since she was eleven. Unlucky me, it can be hereditary, and I got it too. Needless to say, Dad, along with a company that manufactures insulin pumps, developed one that has GPS and sends a glucose report to an app every five minutes. Well, not that often, but I always tell that to Dad when he complains that I don’t keep him updated about my health.

I get it. He worries because I live alone and if something happens to me, no one could reach me in time, which is why I allow him to monitor my glucose levels. The data is available to him at all times.

“But you’re tired?” Mom insists.

“Yes. I’m tired of seeing everyone happy in Coupletown while I reside in Singlehell.”

“Oh.” She sighs.

Earlier I told her about Richardson, so there’s no point in reminding her about it.

“Finn is going to propose to his girlfriend,” I remind her.

My cousin Harper got engaged at the beginning of the year. She’s getting married next August. My cousin Tucker is coming with baby Mae and his wife, Sage, for a couple of hours before heading back to his house where he’ll be celebrating with his friends. Piper, who is younger than me, is bringing her boyfriend. I…I can’t even get me one of those because apparently, I’m uptight and don’t put out easily.

“Until I can replenish my spoons, I’m not going to be attending any events where I’m going to be introduced to ‘a great catch’ or reminded that I need to be a part of a couple. I don’t need anyone.”

“Do you want us to come and celebrate at your house?” she asks. “It’d be only your brothers, your dad, and me.”

This is why Mom is the best. She knows what to say. I’m thankful that she doesn’t say that being single is perfectly fine. Listen, when you feel like something is missing and your heart is incomplete, you can’t just let it go. You have to find the misplaced piece. I don’t depend on a man to be happy. I also want some company. There’s nothing wrong with wanting someone to love me. I deserve love, too.

“You’re the best Mom ever.”

“But you don’t want us with you?”

“I’ll be fine, Mom,” I reassure her. “Maybe I’ll use this time to figure out my dating life.”

Dad might’ve been right when he said I need to analyze the data, go through every relationship I’ve had, and determine the cause of every issue I’ve encountered since the first guy who dumped me. At this point, I’ll try anything.

“Call at midnight, okay,” she says.

“I will. Love you.”

“Love you too, sweetie.”

I spend my evening watching romantic comedies and downloading a few books and magazines onto my e-reader for research. I’m not one to make New Year’s resolutions, but this upcoming year I’m going to rock someone’s world in bed.

Goodbye, shy Grace. Hello, Vixen Bradley.

I need to work on those names. I doubt Vixen Bradley sounds sexy. Maybe that’s what Richardson was talking about. I don’t understand dirty talk, or words. When I’m kissing a guy, I concentrate too much on making it good or on not gagging if the guy can’t control his saliva.

The art of seduction is a mysterious craft—at least to me. Flirting is a foreign language,