Chapter Twelve
D eirdre shook off the déjà vu from the Garretts’s dining room. The glow of lamplight and the warmth from the wood-burning stove in the living room brought back a rush of memories from high school. She and Elijah and Calvin, sitting at this exact table while they plotted their next adventure. Hanging out in the living room while they made homecoming dance decorations. Every recollection, of course, involved Aggie and Bruce.
Truth be told, she now saw in Bruce and Aggie the parents she no longer had. A sigh caught in her chest.
“Well, it’s getting late,” Aggie murmured.
Bruce grumbled, “No, it’s not.”
“Yes, it is, dear.” She tilted her head toward Calvin and Deirdre.
They thought—oh, no. A sour taste coated her tongue. Deirdre and Calvin’s deception looked good on paper, but she never thought through how it could truly affect people she cared about.
“I do have to work tomorrow.” Deirdre gave all of them an easy out.
“Want some leftovers to take home?” Aggie said.
“No, I’m good, but thank you.”
Bruce pushed back from the table and stood, keeping his hand on the edge for a few seconds too long. “You still coming out tomorrow, son?”
Calvin nodded, but there was weariness in the lines of his shoulders. “I’m planning on it. We’ll get the garage repaired and prep for the roofing job later this spring.” His voice held a note of resignation she hadn’t heard before.
“You still know how to swing a hammer?”
He chuckled. “We’re going to find out soon enough, aren’t we?”
“Yep,” Bruce said. “Well, you two stay out of trouble.” Once a father, always a father.
After hugging Bruce and Aggie and exiting the house, Deirdre’s heart ached. In the cooler night breeze, she zipped up her coat. Once in the car and buckled in, she turned to Calvin. “Are we sure about this?”
His face was illuminated by the dashboard light. “That’s a super vague question with no definitive subject.”
“This”—she motioned toward him and patted her sternum—“this fake… us. Stringing your folks along. Giving hope.”
For a split second, he froze like she had slapped him. Then his brows slammed down. “You heard how much they’re prying and pushing. If we didn’t create a smokescreen, they’d be ten times worse. Never-ending questions. Concerns. Same with Maverick and everyone at work.” He put the car into gear and drove away from his parents’ home.
“I know. It’s just…”
“Too real?” Calvin’s exhale was harsh in the vehicle.
Too close.
A shiver worked through her in response. “Yes.”
He rested both hands on the wheel, sinews flexing beneath the skin. “What if we weren’t pretending?”
Her stomach clenched. Past and present smashed together in confusing and conflicting ways. If this was real, then she risked losing someone she cared about again. Calvin wasn’t staying in Yukon Valley. “I… don’t know. It seems like a bad idea.”
He drove back to her place in painful silence. At her house, he parked and jogged around, opening her door and again helping her from the car.
“You don’t have to do this,” she whispered.
“It needs to look good, right?” The hard edge to his words sent a shiver down her back.
Peeking around, she spied a few neighbors’ heads in windows, backlit. Once again, the lie felt wrong. Like she was using him. Lying to everyone.
Lying to herself.
“Let me walk you to the door.” His low voice cut through the cold night air. He kept his hand at her elbow, his grip firm but not painful. Just there. Helpful. Available.
She fumbled with the keys until the door opened. “Um.”
He leaned down until his breath feathered her cheek. “Appearances, right?”
“R-right.”
Tucking one finger under her chin, he tilted her face up. His face only an inch away made her heart stutter.
“Calvin?”
“Is this okay?”
She paused, thousands of thoughts whirling through her mind until they all settled on the man in front of her. “Yes.”
His mouth swept over hers once, twice. His lips were steel covered with warm velvet, and he pressed kisses to the corners of her mouth until their breathing became ragged.
Pulling his head up, he rasped, “Tell me to stop and I will walk away.”
Her heartbeat stuttered in her chest. So much about this felt right and wrong at the same time. It was a sham but oh so real. “Don’t stop,” she whispered.
He dipped his head for another breath-stealing kiss that made her head spin.
When he leaned back, she paused and studied him. His face was shadowed in the dim light. Heat poured off of him. His chest rose and fell too quickly, like he’d run a mile.
Her heart hammered in her chest. When was the last time she’d felt this way?
The answer rattled her. Never.
Which meant, what? Oh, God, Deirdre wasn’t prepared to get in touch with her feelings and address her personal demons. Not tonight. Not after so many years.
“Um, want to come in for a bit? Talk about our plans for later this week?” she managed to say.
With his face in shadow, she couldn’t read his expression, but he stood in silence. She sensed him studying her.
“Plans. Sure.” Disappointment and a dark intensity laced his words.
She tore her gaze away from his and led him inside, flicking the switch inside the front door to turn on the living room lamp.
The moment the door closed, his arms banded around her.