Chapter 42 Special Delivery
Calder
“Hold your fucking end up, Luke!” I growl at my brother as he helps me lift the giant shelving unit down from the bed of my
pickup. “Goddammit! What’s wrong with you?”
“All right, fuck this,” Luke growls, dropping his end and letting it smack down onto the concrete. “I’m not going to help
your moody ass move this shelf one more inch.”
He flings his hands up in the air and stomps away, walking down the sidewalk next to where I’m parked in front of Dakota’s
shop.
I turn my eyes to Wyatt who’s propped on my truck watching the show like he’s just missing his popcorn.
“Little help here?” I bark, and with a heavy sigh Wyatt walks over and takes Luke’s place.
Thankfully, Luke makes himself useful and opens the door so we can maneuver the giant custom piece into The T-shirt Shop.
I direct us over to the corner where I know it’s going to go, and we set it down, both sweaty and out of breath and irritated
beyond belief.
After we’ve brought the second one in, I glance over at the checkout counter and spot the young girl I’ve seen in here before.
She looks at us like she couldn’t give a flying fuck what we’re doing in here.
“Is Dakota here?” I snap, annoyed that the girl has nothing to say.
“She’s in the back.” She goes back to flipping through her magazine, and my teeth clench in irritation.
“Guess I’ll go get her,” I murmur under my breath as I stomp my way around the counter, heading through the back door to retrieve
the woman whose face I can’t get out of my damn head.
The last time I was here, I fucked her on the worktable where customers make tie-dye T-shirts.
I somehow ended up with blue dye all over my arm, and we laughed our asses off and considered doing a Papa Smurf role-playing exercise.
Anything to add a checkbox to that PowerPoint we were so infatuated with.
I remember the day I was here suspecting that, maybe, Dakota was trying to add things to our list to prolong our arrangement
together. The more things to explore, the more fun we got to have.
I was good with that.
I didn’t want us to end.
I wanted us to go on forever.
What a fucking moron I am.
“Hey,” I call out, and Dakota jumps a foot in the air at the sound of my voice.
Her cheeks flush a deep crimson, and she presses a hand to her chest. “Calder, what are you doing here?”
“Can you come out here and tell me where you want these shelves?” I turn away, unable to make eye contact with her because
just the glimpse of her in my peripheral hurts something deep inside of me.
“I didn’t know you were bringing them today,” she says, walking over toward me. The smell of her perfume makes my chest ache
with a deep need that fucks with my head.
“I didn’t know I needed to call ahead.”
She stops, and I can feel her staring up at me, silently willing me to look at her, but I refuse.
With a frustrated noise, she walks past me out into the shop, uttering a clipped hi to Wyatt and Luke before standing in front of the giant shelf, arms crossed, head cocked, eyes tight, and lips pinched.
“They’re fine where they are.”
I cut her a look. “Just tell me what you want.”
“I said they’re fine. They look great.”
“Bullshit, they’re not fine. Just tell me.” I stomp over to the shelf and prop my hand on it. “An inch to the left? Three millimeters to the right? What do you want adjusted?”
My brothers’ eyes both widen, and their shoulders inch up under their ears as they prepare to duck and cover from the mighty
wrath about to unleash. I’m poking the bear, but I don’t give a fuck. These shelves are heavy, and Miss Bossy Boots here always
has an opinion, so I’d rather just get it over with than deal with her throwing her back out trying to move them after we
leave.
Dakota’s eyes narrow as she steps closer to me, her chin raised high as she hits me with those striking blue eyes of hers
that still make me weak in the knees. “I know you want me to go all Karen on you so you can fulfill the prophecy you have in your head about what an evil bitch I am, but I’m not going to give you
the satisfaction, Calder. The shelves are great exactly where they are. In fact, they’re perfect. I can’t thank you enough
for how much work you did on them. I’ll go write you a check right now and include a nice big tip for the delivery.”
“Don’t fucking bother.” I storm toward the door.
Our fingers brush as our paths cross, and I flex my hand, stung by the brief contact, and irritated by the urge I have to
reach out and grab her whole body and press myself against her. I miss the feel of her against me. I miss her fucking touch.
Her fucking voice. Her fucking everything. I miss her.
“Thank you!” she calls to my back with a cheery fake tone.
“You’re not welcome.”
“I’m not surprised!”
I slam open the door of her shop as I step outside, my heart racing a mile a minute when the cool spring air hits me in the
face. God, that woman makes me crazy. She knows how hard I worked on those shelves, and she’s being a brat about it just to
get back at me.
Well, never again. My days of doing anything for Dakota Schaefer are fucking over.
I take several deep breaths in my truck, my body shaking over the fact that the entire time she was reaming me out, I just wanted to grab her face and kiss her.
She’s so stubborn, she can’t even admit the truth and see that the bigger picture is so beyond this bullshit from our past. We are both different people now. She’s better. I’m better. We’re better.
Right?
Fuck, maybe I’m not better. I’m sitting in my truck steaming mad waiting for my brothers to get their dicks out of their hands
so we can go. Maybe I’m no different than the fucking screwup I’ve always been. I’m in no position to love anyone right now.
I can’t even get my damn life together. Killer Calder strikes again.
By the time my brothers join me in my truck, I’m breathing a little easier, and the time alone has allowed me to get control
of myself.
As we drive back to Fletcher Mountain, Luke kicks my seat from his place in the back. “Can I state the obvious?”
“What?” I grumble through clenched teeth as I glance at a silent Wyatt beside me.
“No one fights like that with someone they aren’t madly in love with.” Luke arches a knowing brow at me in the rearview mirror.
I blink away the painful truth behind his remark. “She doesn’t love me.”
Wyatt does the Wyatt thing and says a million words without saying a single sentence.
“She doesn’t fucking love me,” I growl. “You guys don’t know what you’re talking about. The girl is crazy. She’d rather hold
on to the past than admit she might be wrong about something.”
“Well, are you good at admitting when you’re wrong?” Wyatt asks, his voice rough from lack of using it.
“What does that mean?”
He clears his throat and stares ahead as we make our way out of town. “It would seem to me you’re more focused on punishing
her for being hurt than doing what you need to do to mend whatever hurt you may have caused.”
“I wasn’t trying to hurt her,” I argue, my throat tight as emo tion swells inside of me.
“I was trying to protect her. I’d do fucking anything for her.
Anything. Even if she’s being annoying or nagging or controlling or overbearing.
.. God, none of that bothers me. Weirdly, that shit is what I love most about her.
I fucking...” My voice breaks, and I fight against the sting in my eyes and the swelling of my heart.
I decide to lay it all out there. “I love her.”
The silence is heavy in the cab of the truck as those words hang in the air and fully sink in. I haven’t said it out loud
until this very moment. I’ve been fighting the feelings all week and hoped that seeing her today might help me realize it
was all in my head. She’s not my person.
But she is.
I love her just as much today as I did when she was screaming at me from the parking lot of a sex club.
“I love her,” I say it again for good measure, and it feels good to get it out. Like relief. Like I’m no longer fighting something
inside of me that I needed to let out.
“Then, you have to prove that to her, man,” Luke says leaning over the back seat.
“How?”
“I don’t know. I’m single as fuck,” he replies with a laugh. “And apparently horrible at relationship advice if you ask Addison,
so maybe I should shut the fuck up.”
“What is that supposed to mean? What’s up with you and Addison?”
He laughs, and I hear him shift in his seat. “She’s off her rocker. She’s literally looking for a husband so she can take
over her dad’s lumberyard.”
“She needs a husband to do that?” I ask, frowning over that random addition.
“I don’t know. I’m at my wit’s end with her.” He sighs and I hear him murmur under his breath, “If you and Dakota work things
out, I’m about to be lonely as fuck on Fletcher Mountain.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” I glance at him in the rearview mirror. “Everly might have some plans for you.”
“Everly?” He frowns, looking completely confused, and I can’t help but laugh. I’m guessing Luke will discover Everly’s extracurricular
activities in due time.
My smile falls when I realize this is the first time I’ve cracked a grin since Saturday, and it doesn’t feel good because
I don’t want to be happy without Dakota. I don’t want to do anything without Dakota. I’m done being a passenger and letting
her call the shots. Luke is right: I have to prove to her that we’re bigger than this bullshit.
“We have poker at Max’s Saturday night, right?” I glance over at Wyatt who nods. My mind starts to race with ideas, and I
feel my mood lightening by the second. “Maybe we should invite the ladies to come and play with us.”
Wyatt nods slowly, and Luke pats my shoulder. “Whatever you need, I got you.”
“That’s really good to hear because I also need to talk through some work stuff with you guys this week if possible.” I take
a deep breath before I say the next part. It’s something I’ve been pondering for quite some time, and it’s now or never. “Do
you have time to meet after work tomorrow at The Mercantile?”
Wyatt nods but cuts me a concerned look, and I fight back the nerves crawling up my back. I have to trust that my family will
have my back on this, no matter what it might change for all of us. I’m in the driver’s seat of my own life now.