33. Chapter 33
thirty-three
Passing B & B Hardware, Bowie points out his window. “Calder!”
“Yeah,” Mercy says. “Let’s stop and see Calder.”
He did promise after.
I pull into the parking lot.
Inside, Bowie marches to the counter, peering up. “Is Calder here?”
Darla glowers down on him then at me. “He’s tied up.”
“Well, un-tie him,” Mercy snaps, fire spewing from her eyes.
The two hold their stare long enough Bowie yanks my jeans. “It’s okay, Mommy.”
I scoop him up, settling him on my hip. “No, Baby, it’s not okay.” I meet Darla’s glare. “Will you please let Calder know we’re here? Laurel, Mercy and Bowie.”
“I’m right here.” Calder’s behind me, his eyes on Darla.
“Calder!” Bowie holds his arms out.
Calder slides his big hands under Bowie’s arms and lifts him easily, settling Bowie so his little elbow hooks over Calder’s shoulder—like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Like it always is.
Grant never gave Bowie this kind of attention. Not once.
“How was your trip?” Calder asks him.
“Good! I got pancakes. And a lady tickled my cheek.” Bowie wiggles his finger inside his cheek with an oohy face.
Calder chuckles, oblivious to Darla’s daggers. “Yeah? It felt funny?”
“Yes!”
“Where’s your hat?”
Bowie turns to me, tucking his chin with his lower lip jutting out. “Mommy wouldn’t let me wear it.”
“Aww.” Calder winks at me. “A cowboy ought to be able to wear his hat when he wants to.”
“Not to the doctor,” I clarify.
Calder hikes a shoulder. “Mommy’s boss, I guess.” He gestures us through. “Let’s go back to my office.”
“Who stuck a broom up her ass?” Mercy whispers out of the side of her mouth as she passes him.
“I’ll deal with it,” he answers, his eyes flicking to mine.
“What’s this?” Bowie asks, pointing at a bank of camera monitors in Calder’s office.
“Cameras, so I know who comes and goes.”
So that’s how he always seems to know when we’re here.
“Bowie Boy!” Tanner busts in—Mercy definitely texted him. “What are you doing here?”
“He’s my helper,” Calder answers.
“I’m Grammy’s helper, too,” Bowie beams, his little chest puffed out. The attention from Calder, Tanner, even Dad—it’s changed him. He glows.
“How about you being my helper?” Tanner asks. “Me and Aunt Mercy. We need a helper, too.”
Bowie looks at me, his eyes big and pleading. “Can I?”
“I guess. Where are you taking him?”
“I don’t know about you, but I need an ice cream cone,” Tanner says. “Mercy?”
“I’m all in.” She hooks her arm through his like she’s been doing it her whole life.
“You don’t have a car seat,” I remind them.
“Actually…” Mercy glances between Tanner and Calder. “We all have one now. We figured Bowie’s here. He’s one of us. He might go with any of us any day.”
Something warm moves from my chest into my eyes. “Are you serious?” I ask, my gaze landing on Calder.
His cheeks tint pink as he shrugs. “We get ’em at cost.” Like he’s embarrassed. Like he doesn’t want credit for something that means the world to me.
I can’t help it. Standing on tiptoes, I kiss his cheek, turning to Mercy and Tanner. “Thank you. Mercy? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Figured I’d let them do it. It’s pretty huge, these two driving around with car seats in the back of their trucks.”
Bowie’s eyes grow wide. “I have a bunch of car seats?”
“Yep. We’re all ready to Bowie-sit.” Mercy takes Bowie from Calder—and Tanner immediately steals him from her.
“Let’s let your Mommy visit with Calder a few minutes while we get ice cream.”
“Ice cream!” Bowie pumps his fist in the air.
“Actually…” Calder slides his arm around my waist, warm and sure. “I’ve got something I need to show Laurel. At the ranch. Y’all join us in…”
“An hour or two?” Tanner finishes for him.
“That should do it.” Calder looks down at me with a smile so salacious it sends butterflies scattering in my stomach. As they leave, he locks the office door and turns toward me.
My heart drums as he steps closer. “What are you going to show me that I haven’t already seen?” I ask, trying for coy and landing somewhere closer to breathless.
His gaze drifts over me, slow and deliberate, and the smile he gives me could melt steel. It certainly melts everything in me.
His voice drops, low and warm. “Baby, I’ve got plenty you haven’t seen.”
He lifts me onto his desk and steps between my knees, sliding his hands up my thighs. The nearness of him, the heat of him, the way he looks at me like I’m the only thing in the room—it steals my breath.
“I need you.” The way he says it… low and hungry.
My breath catches. The most beautiful words I’ve ever heard. “Oh, Cald—”
“Calder Boone. You’re needed at the front desk. Calder Boone. Front desk.” Darla’s voice crackles over the speakers.
She really doesn’t like me.
He rests his forehead against mine, exhaling a quiet, frustrated laugh. “Shit. I’ll be right back.” As he turns to leave, he points at me. “Don’t move.”
I love him like this—focused, certain, wanting me without hesitation.
My body aches, already anticipating him, and dammit, I can’t help but compare. Not once in all the years was I ever so excited about… the other one. I won’t say his name. Not even in my thoughts.
Calder is here and now—the only here and now I ever want.
Alone, I take my time, walking around his office. It’s strangely similar to the Dust Devil—herringboned wood walls, a big credenza with deep drawers behind his desk, a bookshelf above it. A private bathroom off to the side with a shower and a closet. Clothes inside. He can change here.
“Let’s get out of here,” he says, stepping back in.
“Is something wrong?”
“Nothing except I need to get you home before I explode.” His voice is rough with urgency, his eyes hungry in a way that’s all wanting. A way that makes me ache for him inside.
We leave through the back. As we pull out of the parking lot, I notice Darla glaring from the front door.
“Don’t say it,” Calder says. “I’ll fix it.”
“Did you two… date? Is that her problem?”
“A long time ago.”
I want to throw up. Picturing him with her…
I fold my hands in my lap instinctively, my thumbs worrying over each other. “Was it serious?” I ask, peering out my window.
“Laurel, look at me.” He covers my hand with his.
Slowly, I face him, determined not to let the knot in my stomach climb any higher.
Calder pulls the truck to the side of the road and puts it in park. Then he reaches for me—cupping my jaw gently, his thumb brushing once over my jaw, slow enough to undo me.
I lean into his hand before I can think better of it.
His eyes hold mine, unflinching. He lowers his voice.
“If you’re asking me if I was celibate all this time, the answer’s no.
” His thumb sweeps my jaw again, feather soft this time.
“But I never gave my heart to anyone.” A breath leaves him, like a surrender.
“How could I? You took it when you left.”
For a second, I can’t breathe.
All the years I spent trying not to think about him, trying not to want him, trying not to ache for what I walked away from—something inside me shatters under the weight of those words.
My fingers curl around his wrist where he’s holding my jaw, needing the anchor. Needing him. “Calder…” It comes out barely a whisper, like my voice is trying to catch up to my heart.
He doesn’t look away. Not once. Not even to blink.
I swallow hard, my throat tight. “I thought you moved on. I thought I was the only one who… who couldn’t.”
His thumb rests on my chin. “But you did.”
My breath catches. “No, I tried.” The words scrape out.
“I married, I tried to be happy, I did everything I was supposed to do.” My voice waivers.
“I learned to live around the ache, to pretend I was fine… but I always knew…” I swallow the tears that threaten to erupt.
“If you ever walked through my door, I wouldn’t stay.
I wouldn’t choose that life.” My eyes meet his, steady now. “I’d choose you.”