Chapter 20 Knock Knock . . . Who’s There?
Calder
“You have to chill out, Fuzz,” I bellow to Milkshake who’s been crying at the door since I got home from work an hour ago.
She’s been a whiney brat lately. Clearly starved for attention because it’s been all work and no play since we got back from
Mexico. I had Judy pop up the mountain to take care of her while we were gone, and she gave her plenty of loving. But the
needy girl has been dying to get outside since we returned, and I’m pretty sure Judy would have laughed in my face if I asked
her to wear the cat pack and take her for walks.
Wyatt, Luke, and I have been busting our asses lately because we’re majorly behind on a custom build for a high-maintenance
client in Boulder. Behind on deadlines means late nights in town, which really put Milkshake in a mood. And me for that matter.
She weaves between my feet as I button up a clean flannel. I barely had time to shower and clean up after work, never mind
eat because this cat is up my damn ass to go outside.
I stuff my feet into my boots and throw on the harness and before I can even hold my hands out, Milkshake leaps up into my
arms, vibrating with excitement.
“High-maintenance, pain-in-my-ass brat,” I grumble as I swing the front door open and work on securing her in the harness.
“Well, hello to you too,” a voice says, and my jaw drops as I do a double take, unable to process the person standing on my
front porch.
I usually hear cars coming up the gravel, but maybe I was in the shower when she pulled in?
I lean out the door to look around, wondering if anyone else is here.
Maybe she’s hanging out with Trista, but all I see is Dakota’s green SUV parked directly in front of my house.
So odds are she’s here to see me. Again.
When will her being up here on my mountain ever stop feeling weird? It was weird the other day when she was in my workshop,
and it’s extra weird now that she’s on my porch, standing before me in a tight pair of leggings, a graphic sweatshirt that
says Boulder-Bred , her long coat, and snow boots with the mountain backdrop behind her.
My cock likes how she looks up here.
Down, boy.
“What’s going on?” I ask, clearing my throat as Dakota’s eyes fixate on my cat. “Did you have a change of heart on your shelving
units?”
“What? Oh gosh, no. All good there. Take as long as you want on those. I’m in no rush.” The smile on her face is tight as
she points to my chest. “Did you lose a bet?”
“No,” I grumble defensively, clutching Milkshake to my chest. “This is my cat, and we were just going to go for a walk.”
“You walk your cat in a baby carrier?”
“Yes, I do.” I narrow my eyes at her. “And if you’re going to make fun of me, just know that Wyatt and Luke have already come
up with all the lame-ass fucking cat dad jokes you can imagine. I’m immune to you cat-haters of the world.”
“I don’t hate cats.” She steps closer to me, and my heart rate spikes as she bathes me in her spicy perfume. She reaches up
and pets Milkshake and my eyes drift down her neck, catching the way the shirt shows off her collarbone.
Milkshake purrs like a traitor, leaning away from me to accept the affection from this perfect stranger. “You call her Milkshake,
right?” Dakota looks up at me, and her blue eyes do nothing to slow my heart rate down.
“Milkshake or Fuzz,” I say gruffly, trying to sound unbothered. “Or Little Witch sometimes because she can be that.”
Milkshake meows, punctuating my point.
Dakota smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. She clearly has something on her mind, and I’m kind of nervous to find out what
it is. “Can I walk with you?”
I swallow. “I guess so. I mean... sure.”
I close my cabin door and glance up the hill to Luke’s, and I swear I see the ass duck down from the window. Fucking creep.
I’m sure Wyatt and Trista have their noses pressed up against the glass at their place too with little Stevie enjoying the
show. Moments like this make living next door to family a big pain in the ass.
I’ve brought women up on the mountain before, so that’s nothing to take note of. But Dakota Schaefer twice in one week? That
is newsworthy in the Fletcher clan.
I point toward the trail we walked the other day. “Your boots okay to get a little muddy?”
“Yeah, these are good.” Dakota strides beside me, crunching through the melting snow like this is a normal fucking occurrence,
but the tension is palpable.
“So, you really are a full-fledged cat daddy.”
“Yeah. She showed up as a stray on one of our job sites last year, and Trista kind of helped me figure out how to take care
of her.”
“And that includes walking her?” She turns to watch me as I make my way through the worn, muddy trail.
“Well, the first couple months I had her, she kept trying to bolt out the front door. She was successful a couple of times,
and my brothers and I didn’t particularly enjoy chasing her around the peak.”
Dakota laughs. “Picturing the three of you chasing a cat is a pretty amusing image. I hope Trista took videos.”
“God, I hope she didn’t.” We were a hot fucking mess chasing after her. Milkshake zipped down the hill to the barn and riled
up all the chickens. At one point, Luke dove for her, falling into a pile of horse shit while I tried hopping a fence, busting
it and my ass in the process. Wyatt just stood there and laughed. Asshole only cares about his goat, Millie.
“Could she run wild? Do you think she’d return home?”
“I don’t have the heart to test it.” I pat Milkshake’s belly in the carrier before giving her paw a little squeeze. “There’s
too much wildlife out here that she could get into scraps with. Not worth the risk.”
I feel Dakota’s eyes burning a hole in the side of my face, but I’m trying not to look at her. She looks too good in this
golden setting sun with the backdrop of snowcapped pines all around her. Being attracted to her in Mexico was one thing. Entertaining
fantasies of her back here in reality is quite another.
What happened in Mexico stays in Mexico, and I need to remember that.
“I want you to come to the sex club with me,” she shouts out, and my boot catches on a tree root. I stumble a bit before I
regain my footing. This woman needs to stop blurting her intrusive thoughts out to me or I am going to have a heart attack.
Why can’t she just ponder them in her own mind like the rest of us?
“Hear me out,” she rushes, moving to stand in front of me with an excited bounce to her step. “We don’t have to sleep together
again or anything. I know Mexico was a one-off. I just want you to be my copilot there, a wingman, a partner in crime. It’s
only men that come alone as far as I could tell, and I think if I go with you, it’ll help give me a bit more confidence.”
“Confidence to do what?”
“To explore my options... have some new experiences. Just... be free!”
My heart lurches in my chest. “You still want to do that?”
“Yes,” she replies, her forehead creased in confusion. “What do you mean? Why wouldn’t I?”
“I guess I thought our night in Mexico would have helped scratch whatever itch you needed scratched.”
Dakota pauses for a moment, her brow pinched tightly between her eyes before she bursts out laughing, causing Milkshake to jump against my chest. Her little paws straighten like pegs, and I have to hug her to calm her down.
Dakota buckles over, holding her stomach as her blond hair fans around her face.
“Take it easy, okay? We don’t need your cackling to cause an avalanche.”
She straightens and presses her lips together as she struggles to get control of herself. “Sorry, Calder, but did you really
think one night with you would ruin me for other men?”
Kind of , my inner voice says with a surly pout. Maybe if she would have let me fuck her how I wanted to fuck her, we wouldn’t be
having this conversation. But no, Miss Control Freak had to take charge and basically force my premature ejaculation.
My dick thickens in my jeans at that memory. Hottest fucking moment I’ve ever had with a woman. Not that I’d tell her that. See? Intrusive thoughts stay inside the brain. Dakota should try that.
What I’d also never tell her is that I wanted a rematch, but she was exhausted and fell asleep too fast afterward. And morning
sex is too intimate and would have blurred the lines of a one-night stand too much.
It didn’t stop me from stroking myself in the shower before we flew out, though.
“So like... how many dudes are you wanting to fuck?” I ask, my shoulders tightening at the mere thought as I begin walking
again.
“It’s not about quantity, it’s just about experiences,” she says, falling into step with me. “It’s about being comfortable
in my own skin. I only had sex with two men before I met Randal. I kind of missed the boat on my slutty twenties, and I guess
I want to make up for that now.”
“And you think sex clubs are the best place for that? People who go to sex clubs are really experienced.”
“Exactly,” she says excitedly. “The women in those clubs are so uninhibited. It’s so admirable. And heck, even when you and
I were doing it... I felt my confidence growing just because you were so confident. It’s just crazy enough of an idea to
work.”
I feel the corner of my mouth turn down as I glance over at her. “You should be confident, Dakota. You’re fucking beautiful.”
She stills, and her cheeks flush with my praise as her eyes blink with a softness that I rarely ever see on her. She’s quiet
for a moment before finally she says, “I just know I don’t want to end up in another relationship where I’m insecure and letting
a man get in my head. And I think a little foray with some sex-positive individuals will help me with that.”
“All this because some ass fuck called you boring in bed?” My head jerks when I notice that Dakota is no longer beside me.
I turn on my heel to find her frowning, her eyes filled with way more emotion than they were just a second ago.