Chapter 12 Bed Buddies #2
insurmountable. Of all my boys, he was always the toughest one for me to crack.”
“Grumpy bastard,” Calder says with a cough into his fist, and the whole table chuckles, grateful for the moment of levity.
Wyatt scowls at his brother, but when he looks back to Trista, his eyes sparkle with adoration.
“But for you... he fell completely apart. You did more than just love my son and turn him into a father. You turned him
into his father.” Johanna pauses as her voice catches in her throat, but she smiles gallantly through her tears. “And I know you never
got to meet Steven, but he was one for the books. I see so much of him in Wyatt tonight, and I can’t thank you enough for
bringing a piece of him to us this evening.”
Wyatt’s eyes are red-rimmed as he pulls Trista’s hand up and presses a chaste kiss to the top of her knuckle. She leans in, wrapping her arm around him with tears falling freely down her cheeks.
“My whole life I wondered what it would be like to have a daughter. And now I am about to have two daughters and two granddaughters.”
She raises her flute to Cozy and then back to Everly and Stevie. “It feels good to even out these wild Fletcher boys at long
last.”
“Hear! Hear!” Everly peals excitedly, and everyone laughs.
“Welcome to the family, and if Wyatt ever screws up, don’t you worry because I’ll always be here for you like you’re my own.”
That last comment sends Trista over the edge, and she releases a soft sob as she stands and wraps her arms around Johanna.
The whole table is filled with tears; I even spot Calder wiping away some moisture. Trista’s sister watches everyone with
rapt fascination, clearly still getting her bearings with this family her sister has found.
And what a family it is.
Perhaps my life would have turned out very differently if I’d had unconditional, unwavering support and love. And good examples
of love. Maybe then I wouldn’t have been so hyper-focused on getting married and finding my HEA that I would have seen the
red flags Randal waved.
The ocean waves crash onto the darkened beach outside as I stand on the other side of the big round bed in the sexiest pajamas
that I packed for this trip.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s not a negligée or anything. Just a pale green tank top and matching boy shorts. But admittedly, the
built-in bra makes my boobs look good. And while, yes, I know nothing will happen between me and Calder, I still feel the
urge to look good in front of him. Especially after getting a look at his body after his shower earlier today.
There is no denying Calder Fletcher is insanely hot.
I knew it from the first time I met him at that poker night at Max’s house over seven years ago.
Cozy was the nanny living in the guest house out back, and I was stopping by to pick her up.
I didn’t have to go through the main house to let her know I was there, but I wanted to get a look at the man my bestie was working for.
And I got a look at all those men.
The Fletcher family is well known in the Boulder, Colorado community—mostly Max with his ever-growing company. But the other
three Fletcher boys have developed a good reputation for their house-flipping and development projects around town. My house
issue with Calder would be an exception to that reputation, I suppose.
Their reputation with the women of Boulder is just as well known.
Calder steps out of the bathroom in a pair of black boxer briefs and no shirt, causing butterflies to erupt in my belly the
instant our eyes connect. I quickly slip into the bed before he can get a good look at me, feeling suddenly foolish for being
dressed in such revealing sleepwear.
“What is that?” Calder points to the line of pillows I put down the center of the bed.
“A boundary,” I state pointedly sitting up to gesture to his half of the bed. “My side, your side.”
“Your side is bigger.”
“Well, I’m a girl,” I reply with a shrug. “And I wanted a little extra buffer in case you have wandering hands in the night.”
“Wandering hands?” He points to his sculpted chest with an offended look. “Do I look like I’d have wandering hands?”
“Do you want to sleep in this bed or not?”
“Hell yes.” He jumps onto the mattress like a child. “I’m going to sleep like a rock in this thing.”
“Just stay on your side and everyone will have a good night.”
“Whatever you say, boss.”
I lean over and click the lamp off, bathing us both in complete darkness, save for the moonlight streaming in through the
open balcony. The sea breeze blows the canopy that hangs around the top half of the bed, and the longer we lie in silence
staring up at the ceiling, the more nervous I begin to feel.
“I’m still trying to figure out your sex club shenanigans,” Calder says, his deep voice breaking through my racing thoughts.
“Why do you care?”
“Because I’m a curious cat.” He turns over to face me but I can only see his shoulder because of my pillow wall. “Do you have
some fetish that he didn’t satisfy?”
“No!” I bark out a dry laugh as my body tenses defensively.
“Are you trying to meet someone? Put yourself back out in the dating pool?”
“No.” I groan and roll away as I feel him drawing closer. “Just let it go, Calder.”
“I can’t,” he exclaims, and his voice is almost panicky. I hear the rustling of sheets and look over my shoulder to see he’s
moved to the head-barrier pillow. “Just tell me. It’s killing me.”
“No,” I snipe and look away. “Just drop it.”
Silence descends on us again, and my stomach is in knots over the thought of actually telling Calder why I was at that sex
club. It’s unfathomable. Unimaginable. Too horrifying even to consider having the full conversation with him.
“Hey, Dakota...” Calder says in the dark.
I sigh heavily. “What, Calder?”
“You’re not a six.”
“Huh?” I frown and turn to see his profile as he’s stretched out with his arms behind his head, staring up at the ceiling.
“You’re not even an eight.”
“What are you talking about?” Flashes of what I said to him prick back into my mind.
He turns, and his eyes sparkle in the darkness as he hits me with a serious look that tells me I revealed a lot more than I intended to last night. “You said Randal told you that you used to be an eight but now you’re a six.”
I cover my face in horror. “I shouldn’t have told you—”
His warm hands grab my wrists as he pulls them from my face. “You’re neither of those numbers.”
I inwardly curse myself for blurting out whatever drunken, self-deprecating, stupid drivel I must have said last night. I
had to do those extra tequila shots, didn’t I? Vacation Dakota is a moron. A stupid, stupid moron.
I cast my eyes down and brace myself for whatever numerical value Calder is going to peg me with. “What am I, then? Come on...
get it over with.”
“You’re a ten,” he says quickly, his eyes fixed intently on me. His focus drops to my chest before flicking back up to my
eyes. “You’re a pain-in-the-ass ten.”
He turns away from me like he didn’t just say the most shocking thing I would ever have expected him to say. And after a few
seconds of silence, he offers a cheery “Good night” that stuns me even further.
“Good night,” I reply breathlessly as my head spins. How the hell am I supposed to sleep after that?