Chapter 23
JUNIPER
“Delivery for Doc?”
I eye the tall older gentleman at my front door, recognizing him from the past three days. “Another one? We should be on a first-name basis by now, don’t ya think?”
“Seems like it. I’m Todd.” He nods, handing over a brown paper bag with a familiar label on it. “This one smells good enough to eat.”
I reach for the bag, already salivating from the sugary smell floating between us. “Thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow, Todd?” I ask, smiling brightly.
“I’d say there’s a high chance of that. You have a great day, Ms. Wilde.”
Closing the door behind him, I rush toward the kitchen, dying to see what today’s surprise brings. One thing’s for sure—I know where it came from. Or should I say, who it came from.
Crew.
Boone Urban Bar + Restaurant. My new favorite spot in Atlanta.
Peering into the bag, I’m immediately hit with the fresh and buttery smell of peach cobbler. The same peach cobbler I inhaled in the restaurant kitchen that night.
“Come to mama.”
The aluminum tin is torn apart in seconds, a plastic spoon and ooey gooey goodness meets my tongue like a prayer. “Oh my god,” I moan, savoring every bite. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about how delicious the desserts were and how perfect our kiss was.
Heavens, it was really perfect.
I’m halfway finished when I notice today’s note stapled to the other side of the paper bag. I rip the white card off, smiling when my sight instantly gravitates toward Crew’s scribbled name at the bottom.
Dear Food Queen,
Peaches for the lady with my favorite perky peach.
Crew.
Cheesy. Corny. Freaking adorable.
I’m not sure what’s happening and why Crew suddenly feels the need to send these special deliveries to me, but I refuse to question it. For the first time in longer than I can remember, I feel special.
Giddy to know someone is thinking of me. Especially Crew.
He knows me well enough to send my favorite things with cheesy notes that are bound to make my day. And they have. I’ve come home from work the past three days to a different delivery every night.
Something changed since the game on Monday night, and in a good way. It’s odd because that’s the same moment in time I let myself believe I could try this with Crew. Whatever we want this to be.
Tuesday, a vintage Beatles album was delivered. Limited edition, in perfect condition. I almost fell to the floor in tears when it arrived, immediately removing it from the cardboard cover and jamming out to the record. It also just so happened to be my favorite of their records—Abbey Road.
I lay face up on my couch for the rest of the night, letting the soulfulness of the nostalgic album sing to me as if it were the first time.
I’ve mentioned to Crew a few times in passing how much I loved oldies music, but I never really thought anything of it. Turns out, he was listening acutely all along.
On Wednesday, I was elbow-deep in some intense bathroom cleaning. Not my best look to be approached with gifts, but once again, Crew made it worth it.
My squeal could have been heard from the other side of Georgia.
Delivered in a thick, clear, zip-up protector was a custom-made Strikers jersey on a wooden hanger.
The kicker? Not only was it the limited vintage edition that Navy designed, but it had Briggs on the back with his number, and “Doc” embroidered on the left sleeve.
Every inch of it was personalized just for me.
That definitely means something real.
If I wasn’t smitten with the cutie centerfielder before, I sure am now.
Is this the build-up to us finally being together? Is Crew making small steps to show me he cares before we finally get the chance to admit our true feelings?
Hopefully, all things followed by fucking it out because my goodness, I’d really like to do that. I’m tired of imagining Crew naked, and I know my vibrator is, too.
I want the real thing.
Despite my tragic horniness, my heart feels full. Overflowing from the top with hope. Although none of these gifts equate to answers or what his intentions are, it’s still promising.
I can picture what a life with Crew and Addie would look like.
Family dinner by the fire during winter, coordinated outfits for Addie and me at Crew’s games, vacations, snuggles in the early morning, and more love than either of us thought possible.
If there’s one thing my childhood taught me, it’s to appreciate what you have. Whether small or big, less or more, it’s the quality that matters.
For me, my rusted butterfly trinket was exactly that, and I could only ever dream that what was once special to me then would be nothing in comparison to what matters to me now.
Them.
My Suburban Daddy and the Queen of Emerald City.
I’ve sent Crew a text of thanks after each delivery, but today, I decide to do something better. First, I need to make sure he’s home to get it.
Any idea if my favorite Briggs babes are home?
Tenley Graves
Actually…we just left their house. Addie’s going to Hil’s tonight. And now Apollo is screaming in the back of my car. Speaking of…how’s your dessert?
Are you the reason behind all these surprises?
Please say no.
Tenley Graves
I’m honored you’d think so, but nope. It’s all him.
He’s sweet…
Tenley Graves
Oh, COME ON. Enough of the PG version. Give me some rated R.
….
I want him so bad.
Tenley Graves
Nope. Not good enough.
Okay. She asked for it…
My pussy is crying for his dick!
Tenley Graves
Woot woot! That’s the spirit! Now, whatever you have planned…take the risk. Full send, doctor friend. It’s time to launch past the friend zone.
Past the friend zone? After these gifts, I have every intention to. But first, I’ve got some plans to make.
I was two very anti-climactic plans deep before finally deciding that showing up was my best option. My only option.
I could have taken the easy route and called a carrier to deliver my gift, but that would mean missing out on Crew’s face when he realizes what it is.
Oh, because I have plans. Big, big plans.
I dressed the part. Sexy and disguised with every intention of staying.
I’m pretty sure I drove on autopilot en route to his house, replaying through my mind all the best-case and worst-case scenarios. I’m stepping out of my comfort zone for sure, realizing there’s no guarantee that I’m judging us correctly.
I really hope I am because I’m on a fast track to the embarrassment highway if this goes south.
But this is my way of saying, “Crew, I want to be with you. In more ways than one,” and hope he accepts me for all that I am.
The woman with a fucked-up family she hardly talks to, a pet cat whom she practically considers a child, and a career that can be more time-consuming than a partner would bargain for.
But if there’s one thing I’m confident in, it’s my ability to love big.
I’ll love that caring man and his beautiful daughter with everything in me.
The walk to Crew’s front door gives me the time to back out if necessary, but I’ve never been a quitter.
With the charcoal velvet box secured in my hands, my black stilettos clack against the stone walkway, an audible reminder that I’d love nothing more than to see them thrown across Crew’s bedroom floor by the end of the night.
A woman can only hope.
I knock on the door three times before standing back and observing his side of the neighborhood.
There’s something different about Crew’s street.
The homes are spread out even wider than mine, with nearly every home fenced in white picket panels.
It kind of reminds me of an old Hallmark film during Christmastime, minus the Christmas decor.
It’s clear that my side of the Suburban neighborhood is more newly established, while Crew’s has a history. Both versions are equally charming, primarily because of the location, but there’s a homegrown zest to his that mine sadly lacks.
I hear commotion behind the door, telling me Addie is home, too, and I instantly panic. Shit. Shit. Shit.
I dressed the part, expecting Addie to already be with her mom and no longer home. It’s okay, I work through a mental plan. I’ll just pretend I’m really cold and my Inspector Gadget coat was necessary.
That should buy me a suitable excuse for layering in eighty-degree weather.
I also can’t forget to mention the discretion of his gift before delivering and leaving. The last thing anyone needs is raging questions about adult things coming from a curious six-year-old.
Catching me in mid-damage control, the clank of the old wooden door opening stops me. Excited for who’s on the other side to greet me, I spin on my heels with a smile on my face, only to be met with Crew.
Or should I say, the new and improved Crew Briggs?
I can’t decide whether to burst into a fit of giggles or demand to be kissed. This view is extraordinary. Which feature do I appreciate first? The multicolored plastic butterfly clips attached to sprouted ponytails in his hair, or the metallic pink and purple eye shadow coating his eyelids?
And that’s just the start of this diva’s makeover.
Pure joy outweighs the panic I once felt, knowing that despite being dressed for a potential strip-down, I’m fortunate enough to witness the hot pink lipstick that covers more of Crew’s mustache than his actual lips.
And the fake silver diamond earrings clipped to his ears, reminding me distinctly of the sharp pain they bring.
Two oversized beach towels are wrapped around his large frame, held together by potato chip clips, creating a makeshift dress. One is printed with mermaids, and the other, sprinkled cupcakes.
“Doc. Hey—”
“King Triton, your tea is ready!” Addie yells from inside the house, and I can only imagine what their tea party setup looks like.
Crew looks at me in shock while I’m unable to muster up anything but a smile. God, I’m beaming. My insides. My face. My heart. How could he ever believe his life was too much for someone?
He blinks, turning to call out to Addie. “Be right there, Queen Ariel.”
“Chop chop,” Addie shouts. “Before I call the Emerald City police on you. Trolli and I are waiting.”
“Wouldn’t want that,” Crew laughs to himself before facing me again. He blinks slowly, and I can’t tell what he’s thinking. “Freaking tarantula.”
“Hey,” I say, reeling with every emotion possible at this point. “Cute dress.”
Giving himself a once-over, he tracks his getup carefully before circling back to mine. “I could say the same about yours.”
Yep. He knows. And even if he hadn’t said it, his hazy eyes say it all, trailing my coat like he knows what’s underneath.
We’ve all seen the movies. The only legitimate reason for a woman to show up to someone’s house in a trench coat is because she has plans to either strip and be paid for it or to be railed like a horse.
My intention was the latter. After I declared my feelings.
“Picked it out myself.”
His lips tick. “I bet.”
He looks like a man-sized Barbie doll, but the heat between us still simmers. “I’m sorry for stopping by unannounced. I thought Addie was with Hilary. I can come back.”
“Why are you here, Doc?”
I shake my head nonchalantly, acting as if I’m every part calm and collected. “Oh, I was just in the neighborhood.”
A slow hiss eludes him. “Not looking like that, you weren’t.”
I kick my Christian Louboutin heel to the side, showing the bright red underside. “These babies? They’re new. Had to break them in somehow,” I laugh.
“I see. And the coat?”
I fake a shiver. “Gotta love these chilly May nights, am I right?”
Crew glares, burning a hole through the buttons of my coat. “What’s underneath the coat, Juniper?”
“Scrub—”
“My gift?” he interrupts. “Is my well-earned gift underneath all that fabric?”
I can’t lie. Not when Crew looks at me like he wishes we were alone and he could find out for himself. So, I nod and don’t speak another word.
His eyes fall closed momentarily, and I hate that our timing always seems to be off. “Fuck.”
“I’m gonna go,” I rush, spinning quickly to retreat.
“Don’t go.” His hand reaches for me, pulling me closer until we’re cheek to cheek. Even in heels, he has to bend down to reach me, but does it with ease. “Wait for me, okay?” he whispers, his gravelly voice melting into the warmth of my skin.
I pull back to look at him and tuck the box to my side. My free hand reaches his makeup-painted face, and I stroke my thumb against the side of his cheek. “I’ll wait. Go take care of that little girl in there.”
I hand him the box and walk away slowly.
“Daddy!” Addie yells, making me laugh.
The door closes behind him, and although nothing about this went as planned, I did get something out of it.
Confirmation that we feel the same.