Chapter 33 Sex Shack
Dakota
“Name something you might hurt yourself riding on,” Steve Harvey says on the TV in Calder’s shop.
“A cactus! A tree stump. A budget airline seat!”
Calder stops varnishing a piece of furniture in his workshop and hits me with a look. “You get that it’s answers that are
most common, right?”
“Yes.” I pop a kernel of popcorn in my mouth, my legs swinging from where I’m perched at the butcher block countertop.
“But you’re always wrong. Like every time. You haven’t guessed a single answer correctly this whole evening.”
“So?”
“So...” He sets his paintbrush down and wipes his hands off on his jeans as he walks over to me. He grips my legs to spread
them out and he positions himself squarely between my thighs, his hands scoring my flesh as he hits me with a devastatingly
sexy look. “You should probably be embarrassed.”
“Shut up.” I reach for a handful of popcorn and toss it in his face.
We’ve grown far too comfortable with each other ever since our hot tub confessions over a week ago.
It’s turned into a bit of a free-for-all in our enemies-with-benefits department.
He sends me dirty texts during the day that usually make it impossible for me to not drive up the mountain to see him that night.
He even stopped by my store one day for lunch, and let’s just say.
.. I put the Be Back in 10 Minutes sign up on my front door real damn quick.
There’s something completely irresistible about Calder when he’s in his dirty clothes from working on a job site all day.
And shower sex has been checked off the list like three times now with all the sleepovers I’ve had up here.
Sleepovers were never specifically listed in our plan, but they weren’t ruled out either. Trista seems to be enjoying watching
me do my drive of shame as I make my way back down the mountain in the mornings. The one downside of sleeping with a man in
a very interconnected family, I suppose.
But we haven’t even discussed the PowerPoint checklist in a few days, and I’m pretty sure we only have one thing left before
we head back to the sex club.
Have sex at my house.
For some reason, both of us seem to be avoiding that challenge. I’m not sure what Calder’s reason is, but I know mine, and
surprisingly, it has nothing to do with Randal.
I’m afraid if I bring Calder back into the scene of the crime, we’re going to backslide into the miserable people we were
seven years ago.
I like who we are on Fletcher Mountain. We’re carefree but focused. Yeah, we bicker and pick at each other, but we actually
hear one another, and the sex is incredible. I’m not ready for the finish line.
Steve Harvey’s voice cuts into my musings confirming that not even one of my guesses were right. I stick out my tongue at
Calder. “Better to try and fail than never try at all.”
His forehead lifts knowingly, and my head jerks when I realize I’ve just possibly admitted that marrying Randal could be perceived
as a good thing. That is not a parallel I want to draw today. Although I did get a very good email from my lawyer a couple
days ago telling me that Randal was withdrawing his request to reopen our divorce settlement to change my payment schedule,
so that was some good news. And thankfully, Randal hasn’t called to complain about it or gloat about his new girlfriend. And
even more thankfully... I don’t give a flying fuck about his new lady. How’s that for growth?
Among some other good news is the fact that Calder has sold three of his furniture pieces from my website.
When I told him about the orders, he looked like a kid on Christmas morning.
He instantly started stressing about the fact that they needed a fresh coat of varnish before he could take them to my fulfilment facility where the crew was going to work on how best to package and ship them.
“I can’t believe someone in Canada bought this giant porch swing,” Calder says as he steps away from me to get back to work.
“The shipping cost is insane. Who has this kind of money?”
“People know a good thing when they see it,” I reply with a smile. “Have you given any thought to that email I forwarded you?”
He blows out a long breath. “Nah, not yet. Not really. I mean... a little.”
A boutique home-goods store in Denver reached out to my website to see if they could feature Calder’s furniture in their showroom.
They have a decent consignment split, and what Calder would lose in direct sales he’d gain in exposure and being able to sell
locally.
“It sounds kind of nice to just drive all my pieces over there and dump them off when they’re done,” he says, gripping the
back of his neck. “I could really use the space in here, and I feel bad freeloading off your fulfilment company. If this became
a long-term thing, I’d need to figure out something more permanent. If I say yes to this offer... I wouldn’t have to mess with any of that.”
“That’s definitely a perk.” I try to keep my opinion to myself as he works through this, which is crazy hard. When Calder
told me the profit margin he’ll make on this stuff, my head exploded. This is what he’s meant to be doing with his life!
“But I’d also have to commit to providing a set number of pieces every month based on supply and demand.” He runs his hand
through his hair, his mind whirring with information overload. “That’s a bigger commitment that I’m maybe not ready for.”
“Why aren’t you ready for that?’
“Cuz of my dad’s construction business. Wyatt and Luke can’t operate without me.”
“Have you asked them?”
He rolls his eyes. “I know what they’d say.”
I purse my lips and glare at him. I wish Calder believed in himself half as much as he believes in me. My eyes drift over
to my two shelving units that are glossy from the fresh coat of varnish he applied earlier tonight. They are going to look
so good in my store, and I already have new inventory to fill them up. And I had no notes for him when he showed them to me
tonight. He kept asking me over and over, telling me that he assumed I would have tweaks. But he assumed wrong. I love them.
And I love him for making them for me.
My face heats with the words in my head. I don’t love him ... obviously. I just love what he did for me. What he continues to do for me. He’s become a genuine friend through our
little PowerPoint sex-periment, which is unexpected and so appreciated. Hopefully we’ll be able to stay friends when we end
this so when we inevitably see each other around, it won’t be horrible.
“I’m picking you up at six tomorrow, right? You’re sure that’s early enough? I can ditch work earlier if I need to,” Calder
asks, redirecting my attention from the TV back to him.
“Yes, but you really don’t have to come,” I whine, my stomach swirling with anxiety. “You have to wear a suit and pretend
you like me.”
“Oh God... what a nightmare,” he mock-grumps.
“I will be a nightmare.” I pull my legs up to sit crisscross. “I’m going to be nervous and awkward and stressed and probably
take it all out on you.”
He shrugs. “So basically... how you act most days of the week.”
“Shut up.” I roll my eyes and chew my lip nervously. “I really don’t mind going to this awards ceremony alone. That was always
my plan. It’s so businessy and lame. It’s barely a thing.”
He sets his paintbrush down and walks back over to me, guiding my legs down to resume his space between them.
“But if I’m not there, who will heckle you when you accept your award and make sure you stay humble?
” He presses a soft kiss to my lips that has me seeing stars before he says, “We don’t want all that success going to your head so you think you can actually fuck the patriarchy. ”
Clenching my teeth, I slide my hands forward to wrap around his neck and shake him. An odd noise bubbles up from him as he
laughs and squeezes my sides, sending me into a fit of giggles.
“Is everyone decent? I’m not going to see any body parts that will haunt me until the end of time, am I?” Trista calls out,
walking in with her hand over her eyes.
“We’re not naked... yet,” Calder murmurs the last part, shooting me a heated look as Trista walks in, taking in the workshop
with wide, eager eyes.
“So, this is the sex shack I’ve been hearing so much about.”
“Sex shack?” I exclaim, turning a confused look to Trista.
She holds her hands up defensively. “That’s just what Wyatt told me.”
I cut a look to Calder, silently screaming at him for talking about our sex life with his brothers. Two nights ago, Trista
would have got an eyeful if she’d walked over here. Calder had me bent over the sawhorses, and I fear I may have told him
to keep his tool belt on.
So much cringing.
I give Calder a push to get him out from between my legs, but he doesn’t budge. He just turns around and presses his back
against me, crossing his arms over his chest like it’s totally normal for us to be touching each other in front of his family
in our sex shack.
God, he’s a stubborn ass sometimes.
“Wow... I had no idea you had so many pieces done, Calder. They’re all so beautiful.” Trista walks around inspecting them
all. “But I’m partial to the chair you gave me last year, of course.”
“I know. I see you sitting on it outside the barn every damn day,” Calder teases, but I can hear the pride in his voice. He likes seeing Trista sit in that chair. It validates his passion.
“Did I interrupt a deep discussion?” Trista asks, hooking a thumb toward the door. “I’m sensing a little tension here maybe.”
“Dakota was just trying to uninvite me to this award ceremony tomorrow night.” Calder makes a loud, obnoxious noise with his
throat.
I shove him in the back, but the big lug doesn’t budge.
Trista’s eyes light up. “That’s why I came over, actually! Johanna said she can watch Stevie, so I was just letting you know
we’re good to come.”
“Come where?” I ask, frowning at her.
“To your Best of Boulder thingy. We all want to see you get your big award.”
“Wait... who is we ?” I blink rapidly, struggling to make sense of the words coming out of her mouth.
“Cozy, Max, me, Wyatt, Luke... I’m not sure if he’s bringing a plus-one. Calder too, of course.”
Calder nods like all of this makes perfect sense.
“Why would you guys all want to come?” My eyes dart from Trista to Calder and back to Trista.
“It was Calder’s idea, and I think it’s a great one.” Trista smiles brightly at him. “We didn’t realize you could bring guests
until he told us.”
I pinch Calder’s side viciously.
“Ouch, Ace! That hurts!”
“What are you doing?” I hit him with a punishing glower.
“Nothing,” he replies with a laugh as he turns on his heel and hits me with a sexy smirk that makes my stomach do flips.
“Bullshit,” I scold. “Fess up.”
His hands squeeze my thigh in a reassuring caress. “I just think you’ve had a hell of a year, and you deserve to be celebrated
by those who love you.”
My cheeks heat at that word that just slipped out of Calder’s mouth so casual like. He obviously didn’t mean love love. He just meant love like friendship love . Cozy and Trista love me of course, because they’re my friends, but Calder Fletcher is not in love with me.
He told me when this all started that love would never be on the cards for him. And for a man like him to love someone as
stubborn as me? Not a chance in hell. But I can appreciate this enormously kind gesture. He really has more heart than people
expect. Me included.
I shake my head, willing my brain to stop short-circuiting. “So I went from going alone to having an entourage of people?”
They both nod at me, and I feel a bit lost for words, so I finally shrug and say, “I guess I’ll see if I can get us a whole
table.”
“Great.” Trista claps her hands. “I’m so excited. I even have a dress that I think will fit.” She stops in her tracks and
frowns. “On second thought, I better go try it on again. See you both tomorrow.”
“See you tomorrow,” Calder calls back cheerily.
I cut a menacing look at the mountain man in front of me. “You’re going to pay for that.”
He waggles his brows. “That’s what I was hoping you’d say.”