Chapter 11
Chapter 11
Calvin watched as steam came out of Daphne’s ears. She ground her teeth as the two of them faced off, the only sound in Mickey’s Bar the wolf whistle of a patron hidden in the corner. After tearing his gaze away from Daphne, he glared in the direction the sound had come from and heard a smattering of laughter ripple through the crowd.
He stepped out of the doorway and held the door open for Daphne to stomp through.
“Talk,” she said, stopping just beside the door to cross her arms. She’d left her jacket inside, and Calvin could see goose bumps already rising on her arms.
“Let’s talk in the truck,” he said, gesturing to his vehicle. He ignored her impatient huff and got behind the wheel, turning on the heat while he gathered his thoughts.
The call he’d received from his mother an hour earlier had been unexpected. The fact that she thought he was sleeping with Daphne Davis even more so. But that wasn’t the worst of it.
“There’s some chatter,” he started, “about you and me.”
Daphne let out a bitter snort. “So I’ve heard.”
Good. That made things simpler. “My mother just called me.”
“Before you say anything else, can I just say that this is all your fault?”
Calvin jerked back. “My fault?”
“Yes!”
“Am I the one who ripped your shirt and then stripped down in the street?”
“No, but you’re the one who gets pleasure from driving me crazy! I’m normal around other people. I’m quiet, I do my work, and I go home. I don’t get why you make me so insane.”
“Well,” Calvin said, leaning back. “I tend to have that effect on women.”
“Give me a break.”
He laughed. “Listen, this is as inconvenient for me as it is for you.”
“Maybe if we ignore it, it’ll blow over.”
Cringing, he turned to look at her. The streetlights illuminated her profile, and in this light, he could hardly see her fading bruises. She wore a low-cut shirt with short sleeves and a few little white buttons that drew his eye to her cleavage. Earrings dangled in her lobes, and she’d brushed a bit of sparkly makeup on her lids at some point. Her lips looked pink and glossy. She was pretty and feminine and delectable, and he wanted to haul her over to his lap so he could taste her. He wondered what color her bra was, then tore his gaze away and chastised himself for letting his thoughts wander in that direction.
They had a problem. He had a problem. He couldn’t afford to mess this conversation up.
“My mom thought I was cheating on my date to her vow renewal with you.”
Daphne met his gaze, then hummed. “I see. And did your date get wind of it?”
A long sigh slipped through Calvin’s lips, and he kneaded the bottom of the steering wheel to try to let out some nervous energy. “See, that’s the thing. There is no date.”
“What do you mean? You told me you had a long line of women waiting for the chance to go to your mom’s event with you.”
He cringed. “That ... might not have been strictly true.”
“So take Jenna.”
“We’ve covered this. She’s not my type.”
“I don’t get why you’re telling me all this.”
“Well, when my mom accused me of cheating on my nonexistent date, I might have suggested that there was no cheating involved, because my date was actually ...” He trailed off and glanced over at her, waiting for her to meet his gaze. Gravel rattled in his throat as he tried to clear the blockage.
“Your date was actually . . . ?”
Might as well come out with it. “You,” Calvin said. “I told her my date was actually you.”
Daphne blinked. Blinked again. Calvin could practically hear the gears grinding in her brain as the reality of his words was processed. Then her face was a rictus of horror, and she reared back so far her head hit the passenger window.
“Careful,” he hissed, reaching for her.
She batted his hand away. “You said what ?”
“It’s just one event, and I would owe you,” he rushed to say. “It’s really low key; she’s hosting it at her house. Just a little casual gathering, really. And look, I know it’s not ideal, but—”
“Absolutely freaking not , Flint. How could you possibly tell her that? Call her right now and tell her you lied and you’ll take Jenna. Get your phone.”
“I’m not taking Jenna.”
“Why not?”
“If I take her to the vow renewal, my mother will push her on me even more aggressively, and it’ll be a nightmare to get her to back off. You saw how she was when she came to the station. Besides, I’m not into her!”
“You’re not into me !”
Calvin paused. “Regardless,” he started, and Daphne held up her hand.
“No.”
“It’s one evening, Davis. You want money? I’ll pay you.”
“There isn’t enough money in the world for me to attend your mother’s vow renewal on your arm, Flint.” Daphne crossed her own arms and stared out the windshield. Her pose drew his attention to her breasts again, and he really needed to stop looking at her like that, but had she put something sparkly on her cleavage too? Why did her skin look so damn kissable?
What was wrong with him?
Calvin tore his gaze away. “What did you think of Jerry Barela?” he asked when the tension in the truck got too much.
Daphne glared at him. “You’re asking me that now?”
“Well, every time I went to your office to debrief, the door was locked or you were out.”
“That was by design, numbnuts.”
“So you’re avoiding me?”
“Of course I’m avoiding you.”
“Because you ripped your own shirt?”
“I’m not doing this,” she said, reaching for the door handle, “and I’m not going to the vow renewal. Find someone else. All I want is to do my job and have a nice, quiet life. I’m not going on fake dates with acting sheriffs. That’s not who I am. I’m sitting in my office and sorting through financial records, and that’s it.”
She had one foot on the pavement when Calvin said, “Liar.”
Daphne stood just outside the car, holding the passenger door open. “Excuse me?”
“You did this when we were kids too. Pretended to be some quiet mouse of a girl who just wanted to stick her nose in books. That’s not who you are.”
“Oh, now you know who I am?”
“I know you want more than to just sit at a computer looking at old records.”
“And how could you possibly know that?”
“Because of the way your eyes lit up when you were talking to Barela! Because you love giving as good as you get.”
“I do not.”
“You do with me.”
Her chest heaved with every inhale as she glowered from just outside the car. “I want a quiet, stable, safe life. I thought I had it, and I lost it. I’m not going to jump off the deep end just because you think you know me better than I know myself.”
“Maybe you should, Davis. Maybe you should try jumping.”
“Maybe you should mind your own business.” She slammed the passenger door and didn’t look back as she headed inside.
Calvin’s heart thumped. She drove him up the fucking wall. How could she pretend that all she wanted was a quiet life? How could she intentionally make herself so much smaller than she was?
She thought she could just fling vitriol at him and stomp away, but she was wrong. Calvin had been through a lot in his life. He’d endured his father’s death and his mother’s neglect. He’d made it through the chaos and anger of his teen years, the alcohol and the fury and the self-destruction. He’d cleaned himself up. He’d made something of himself. He’d learned that being honest with himself was the only thing that mattered in the end, the only thing that could keep him sane.
He’d had to be honest with himself that he couldn’t touch alcohol after abusing it as a teen. Honest that his mother had hurt him. Honest that he was confused about his place on Fernley, his place in his family, but he was willing to try to figure it out, if only for his little sister’s sake.
So he might as well be honest about something that was right in front of his face.
He wanted Daphne Davis. Wanted her to stop fighting herself. Wanted her to stop hiding herself away because she was afraid to face what was inside her.
And he wanted her for himself. In his arms. In his bed.
The truck’s door slammed behind him, and he followed her inside.