Chapter 17 Who Wore It Better?
Calder
“Hey, I’m at your house, and no one is answering,” I say to Cozy over the phone.
“Why are you at my house?”
“It’s my night to take Ethan.” I pull my phone away to look at my calendar to make sure I have the right date. My brothers
and I alternate weeks where we take Ethan out for some fun and bonding—and to give Max and Cozy a break. We did the same thing
with Everly for years... even while she was still in high school. Wyatt usually just brings them up to the mountain and
lets them play with the animals. Or his goat, before Trista joined the scene and brought her assortment of wildlife around.
Luke does something lame like a movie. Me and E-Man, we go for high impact.
“I was planning to take him to that trampoline park tonight. Does he still want to go?”
“Oh God, yes, he would love that,” Cozy responds, sounding out of breath. “I’m sorry. I must have had my days mixed up! I’m
at Dakota’s shop with him. Can you just come here and grab him?”
“What?” I cringe as pressure instantly builds in my chest at just the mention of her name.
“Yeah, he’s making a tie-dye shirt, but he’s almost done. Just swing by and grab him. The front door says Closed, but you
can walk right in.”
“Okay... sure. I’ll see you in a bit.”
I feel stiff as I make my way back to the truck, running a trembly hand through my hair.
It’s only been a few days since Mexico, and I wasn’t really prepared to see Dakota so soon.
She’s been occupying way too many of my thoughts since we got back, and coming face-to-face with her isn’t really going to help me with that problem.
And it is a problem because our night in Mexico was. .. unexpected.
I guess I knew the sex would be good.
I didn’t know it would be fucking spectacular.
And that frustrates the shit out of me.
I’m an experienced man, and I’ve had loads of great sex. But hardly ever with someone I know well, aside from Robyn. And Robyn
is the fucking worst and not worth another thought in my head. Dakota on the other hand... I don’t know what to expect
when I see her.
She was fine with me the next day in Mexico. We didn’t really speak because I took a page out of my brother Wyatt’s silent,
classic mountain man book. I was quiet on our flight home. Quiet in our palapa as we showered and packed up. Quiet when I
walked down the steps, staying on the side to serve as a barrier for Dakota and the birds. I was quiet because I was afraid
of what I would say if I opened my mouth. It’d probably be something crazy like... Being with you was fucking aces. Fuck me again, please?
And that is not something I say to women. Ever. One and done. That was the deal. So I need to get my shit together and stop
stressing out over seeing her again. She’s not stronger than me. She doesn’t have a magical vagina that beckons to me like
a siren calling her ships home.
She’s just a chick that I fucked.
I repeat that last sentence over and over as I park next to her storefront and make my way inside. An old bell jingles above
the door, and I feel my heart rate increase as I look around her shop for the first time. I’ve known Dakota for seven damn
years and managed to never step foot in this place... and now I know why.
It looks just like her. Loud, colorful, and stylish with a touch of midcentury aesthetic.
She had a similar vibe for her house remodel too.
A mix of modern with classic elegance. She has a way of finding unique clunky-looking pieces and making them shine in a space.
One of the chandeliers she ordered took twelve fucking weeks to arrive, but she refused to look at anything else because that light was “the one.”
God, she’s high-maintenance.
My eyes look up when I see someone emerge from the doorway in the back of the store. She’s carrying a giant box that covers
her face and when she drops it loudly on the floor by the cash register, I think my heart skips a beat.
She looks good. Tanned and busy in a take-no-prisoners sort of way. Her hair is tied up in a messy bun, and she blows a wisp
of it out of her face before she finally notices me. Her cheeks flush when our eyes connect, and I hate that my cock twitches.
It’s a fucking traitor.
“What are you doing here?” she asks, looking nervously behind her like someone is going to come out of the back room.
I stand awkwardly by a table covered in hoodies, my fingers toying with the strings on one of them. “Ethan—” I blurt out after
the longest, most awkward pause of my life.
I hear the sound of running footsteps, then “Uncle Caldy!” and Ethan emerges out of the backroom door wearing what looks like
a dye-splattered apron and rubber gloves.
He makes a beeline toward me, and I see Dakota’s hands fly up as she cries, “Don’t touch anything!”
As soon as he gets close to me, I clamp my hands around his wrists and hold his dye-soaked gloves straight up above his head.
“You’re under arrest!”
He laughs and squirms to get closer to me. “I want a hug, Uncle Caldy.”
“No way, dirt ball,” I gruff, walking him back the way he came, his little legs fighting me every step I go. “You need to
finish whatever you were doing first.”
Cozy appears in the doorway next, looking out of breath. “Did he ruin anything? I’ll pay for it, I promise.”
“Calder caught him,” Dakota answers, her eyes dropping to look at the ground when I draw closer.
“I looked away for one second.” She marches over and takes Ethan’s wrists from my hands. “Thanks. I’m really glad you’re doing
this tonight, Calder. He seriously needs to burn off some energy. I’ll go get him cleaned up, and then he’ll be ready to roll.”
“No rush.” I slide my hands into my pockets as Cozy walks Ethan back through the door they came out.
I take a moment and walk along the counter, noticing that Dakota is doing a bad job of looking busy back there, like she’s
completely unaffected by my presence. I stop at a rack of shirts and slide the hangers over, one by one.
“I like your shop,” I offer, trying to break the tension a bit.
“It’s been here for ten years, and you never managed to stop in?” She pushes back from the front desk and leans on the counter
behind her, watching me through her narrow sapphire eyes.
“I’m not a big shopper.” I walk around, perusing more of the clothes. “Plus, I don’t think you sell the kind of clothes I
wear.”
“Sure, we do.” With a frown, she walks around the desk and makes her way over to me. My heart rate increases with every step
she takes, ratcheting up even higher when the scent of her perfume hits me as she reaches past me and pulls out a T-shirt.
“This would look good on you.”
She hands me a shirt that has the outline of a hairy man’s physique wearing a neon green mankini. I can’t help but smile.
“This?”
She fights back her own amusement and nods. “Yep. We have dressing rooms if you want to try it on.”
I chuckle and shake my head. “You don’t think the real thing is better?” I pin her with a look, and that flush in her cheeks
is back. I move closer to her to return the shirt to the spot she pulled it from. “Come to think of it... I am short a
Colorado Rockies T-shirt, so maybe I do need to find something here.”
Dakota licks her lips, pulling the lower one into her mouth to chew on for a second. “I thought you gave that one away.”
I glance down at her lip as it goes back between her teeth. “Oh yeah, I think you’re right. That’s a shame. I kind of miss that shirt.”
I lean over her, resisting the urge to touch her like I want to. This is why the silent thing worked after our night together.
When she does the talking thing, I have to do the looking thing. And the looking thing makes me want to do the touching thing.
And the touching thing makes me want to do the naked thing.
When did we get so close together?
The sound of footsteps approaching rips both of us out of whatever fucked-up trance we’re in, and we split apart like a couple
of horny teenagers caught kissing at a church dance.
“All clean!” Cozy sings as she walks Ethan over to me. “Thank you again, Calder, and sorry for not being home when you stopped
by.”
“No worries.” I ruffle Ethan’s dark hair. “Ready to go, poop stain?”
“Ready!” he cheers and links his hand in mine to head out.
When we’re about at the door, Cozy calls out to me. “Oh wait, Calder.”
I turn around and frown, trying to keep my focus on Cozy when all I want to do is look at Dakota again.
“Dakota was asking me today if I could build her some custom shelves for these two corners of her store. And it’s just too
big of a project for me... you know I’m more into the serving boards and small woodworking stuff, but I think you could
make something perfect for it.”
“What?” Dakota and I both say in unison.
Dakota laughs nervously. “Cozy, it’s fine if you can’t do it. We don’t need to bother Calder with this.”
“Oh come on, Dakota!” Cozy waves me off. “You were telling me earlier how hard it’s been for you to find something to fit
those two awkward spaces. You need a custom build, and Calder is super talented at that. You should see some of his furniture
pieces. He’s way better than me. Aren’t you, Calder?”
She turns her big eyes to me, and I shake my head like a moron. “No.”
“Nonsense. He’s great. Send her some pictures of your stuff, and I’m sure he can figure something out.”
I swallow the knot in my throat. I’ll figure something out, all right. I’ll figure out how the hell to get out of having to
spend more time with the woman I can’t get off my mind.