Chapter Seventeen
C al didn’t know much about women, but he knew that the word fine was secret code for the exact opposite of fine .
This was what it was like for a pirate to walk the plank. Or a criminal to step up to the chopping block centuries ago. Menacing music would be the perfect accompaniment to his morbid thoughts.
He inched into Deirdre’s home and shucked his coat and boots right inside the front door.
“You want something to eat?” she said, one brown eyebrow raised.
“I already ate,” he retorted.
Crossing her arms, she said, “Of course you did.”
“No, not at the diner. Before going to the diner.” Inwardly, he face-palmed himself. Good job there setting the stage for success, slick.
“You ate before you stood me up?”
“Damn it. That didn’t make it better, did it?” After rubbing his damp palms on his pants, he added, “I ate after canceling dinner with you and before meeting Randy.” There, all better.
The sadness in her downturned mouth and those angry glinting eyes nearly knocked his legs out from under him.
“You should have quit while you were ahead,” she said.
“I’m getting the impression that there is no ladder tall enough to get out of this hole I’m digging.”
“Not in the least.” Waving him toward the small living room area, she settled at one end of the couch, drawing her legs under her.
The lamplight and the tan sweater made her skin glow. It did nothing to warm up her icy glare, though.
He held his hands up, as if holding off a charging brown bear. “Let’s reset. Deirdre, I am sorry to cancel dinner. I had looked forward to spending time with you.”
Her tiny intake of breath tormented him. “It’s fine to cancel. We’re not dating.”
“It’s not fine, and we are dating. Sort of.”
“Not in a real-world kind of way, Calvin. It’s okay. We’re not dating. There are no mortgage-bearing complications here. We can make adult decisions and have adult preferences about things like meals.” She tapped her lower lip with a finger, making him jealous of the digit. “What hurts more is that you went out with Randy.”
“I didn’t—”
“I get it. Not a date.” One side of her mouth lifted, giving him a glimmer of hope that he might survive this conversation. “That guy was the jerk from our lodge. Why were you talking with him?”
“That’s what I wanted to explain.” He swallowed, despite a dry tongue. He needed to explain this but keep his plans hidden. While preserving a chance in hell that he could repair whatever fragile relationship was developing with Deirdre. He could walk this fine line. “Randy was behind the guy being at Mom and Pop’s house earlier this week.”
“How? What?”
Raising a hand, he said, “I needed to figure out what was really going on, so I contacted the man. I, um, acted like an interested party and drew him out so that he would explain his angle.”
“Angle? I thought he had left town for good.”
“Right after the accident in February, yes. But he and some partners are nosing around again.”
“How does that affect us? Mav and I are no longer in foreclosure. Our business is back on track. Randy can’t take it away from us. End of story.”
Cal shook his head. “Randy’s positioning to make a play for other properties along the Ray Mountains. That includes Mom and Pop’s property.” Which might not be the worst thing ever, even if the execution of his goal and the greater implications chafed at him. “Koyukon corporation land. He’s pursuing options and legal loopholes and leveraging finances to try to get access to the ore. He has an eager business partner waiting in the wings. He just needs to extract and supply the minerals. Now.”
“He told you that?”
Cal paused to consider his words carefully. He didn’t want to lie to Deirdre, but he needed to keep some information locked up tight for now. “Randy is under the impression that I might be the owner of my parents’ land. He also believes that I want to sell. He talked too much.”
“Why doesn’t he quit and go away?”
“He said that this area has a particularly rich deposit of rare earth elements, which has significant demand for science and industry. There’s also likely a vein of gold. He’s looking at a hell of a revenue stream.”
Folding her arms over her chest, she said, “I don’t want to give this guy a red cent.”
Her fierceness and determination as she sat up straight on the end of the couch triggered a chuckle. “I’m thinking most folks in Yukon Valley agree with you.” Cal sobered. “I’m concerned about what lengths he’ll go to establish a claim on a parcel. Gain just enough access for a foothold to access the materials. I don’t want anyone getting hurt.” Especially his parents and Deirdre.
“Chance of him leaving?”
“Basically zero.”
“Can we kick him out of town?”
“Not legally. He hasn’t committed a crime.”
“I’d disagree with that.”
“According to law enforcement, you, Maverick, and Lee caught Randy before he could do the crime.”
“Who thought being proactive would come back to bite us?” She gave a little sniff.
He rested an arm on the back of the couch, fingers stretching toward her as his torso leaned in her direction, like she was the sun and he an object in space, falling into her gravity. “According to the DNR paperwork in his possession, the Ray Mountain vein particularly in this area has decades of production potential. Could be longer, depending on which mineral is most lucrative at any given time.”
A frown pulled her brows together. “So, you weren’t plotting with him.”
He allowed himself a small celebration that she believed him.
Then he told the truth. “I was making him believe I would work with him. So that I could subvert his playbook.” And if his parents were encouraged to move with Cal to Seattle in the process? Mission accomplished. For now, time to push back against her suspicions. “I’m a little hurt that you would think I was consorting with the enemy. Over dinner.”
Like a dog with a bone, she wasn’t letting up. God, she was beautiful and relentless in her pursuit of the truth.
Narrowing her gaze, she said, “You have mentioned before how you wanted to sell the property and move your folks to a larger city. What’s to say you’re not setting up their homestead to be the lucrative access point while everyone else holds the line?”
So close. So very close. He reared back, raising his hands. “Hey, now. I might be despicable for other reasons, but I’m not here to sell out Yukon Valley.” If altering Yukon Valley ended up happening, he’d feel terrible. But his parents would be safely moved to Seattle and Deirdre and Maverick’s property would remain untouched. The people he cared about would be protected.
“Huh. Despicable?” she said with a smirk.
He waited for her to refute the word.
She did not. “So, what’s the plan?”
“Uh, what?”
“We should take this information to the local meeting next week. I think we can outmaneuver this guy and leverage those resources for the good of Yukon Valley.”
“If that’s what everyone wants.” He wanted to clamp his mouth shut. Less risk of saying the wrong thing. He tried to recover. “I mean, at least let’s make sure everyone is informed and on the same page.”
Deirdre worried her lower lip. “That’s all very… logical. And thorough. Maybe a little devious, but for a good cause.” She paused, then dropped her eyes toward the hands in her lap. “Wow. I might’ve jumped to a conclusion there. That’s not like me.”
“Hey, we’re all guilty of making assumptions.” Had he survived a Deirdre Steen grilling and lived to tell about it?
The scowl on her face suggested that might be the case.
“I should know better. I’m a trained administrator. My job is to gather all pieces of information and sides of the story before reacting.” Her beautiful lips turned down at the edges. “Tonight was pure reaction without any data.”
A barked laugh erupted. “I want to make a snide remark about the usefulness of healthcare administrators, but this might not be the right time or place.”
Her giggle made him hope that things might be okay on the other side of this conversation.
Relief that he didn’t have to lie, exactly, unclenched the rigid muscles of his back and shoulders.
He could focus solely on Deirdre now. “Don’t beat yourself up. We all deal with events that challenge our beliefs and create doubt.” Like everything he thought he believed regarding his feelings about Deirdre. He kept one hand pressed firmly on his knee and the other on the back of the couch cushion instead of wrapped around her shoulders, which was what he wanted. Badly.
“Doubt?” She rolled her lips together, then nodded. “Damn, that’s a good observation.”
A few seconds passed in thoughtful silence. “Is the issue that you didn’t trust me”—he kept his voice neutral—“or that you didn’t trust yourself?”
“You’re cutting to the bone, aren’t you?”
“It’s not my intention to hurt.” He cleared his throat. He didn’t want to push, but it was necessary. “I do feel like we need to clear the air between us. After the other night.”
She didn’t meet his eyes. “The air is clear. Remember, we’re not dating.”
The words were out before he could stop them. “What if we wanted to change that?”
The sound of her intake of breath shot into his chest.
Despite the warm lamp glow, her skin paled. “I don’t—It’s not—”
Leaning forward, he took her hand in his, cradling her fingers. Lightly. She could pull away whenever she wished. “We need to talk about Elijah.”
“I don’t want to talk about Elijah.” The name cracked as she said it.
“It’s necessary.”
Her eyes widened. The hand he held trembled.
“For what?” she said.
“For us to move forward, separately or together. It’s like he’s the third person in this relationship. Only he’s a ghost.”
Her fingers curled around his. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault. He was a great guy.” That was part of the problem.
Deirdre held up her free hand. “You are, too.”
“Not like that. Elijah was special.”
“You’re not wrong. He was loved here in Yukon Valley. Mourned by everyone when he died.”
“I know he was special. You picked him.”
She pressed her mouth into a line and took a breath.
Finally, she looked up at him, pain and hope and fear all written starkly on her beautiful face. “Calvin, it was complicated,” she started out slowly. “I was very happy with Elijah, but our love was more friendship. We had a wonderful friendship, don’t get me wrong.”
Cal leaned back. This was new information. “But… you loved him? You picked him.”
“I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.” She drew another deep breath. “Maybe you’re right. We do need to talk about this. It’s just painful.” He squeezed her hand, and she returned the pressure and gave another wistful smile. “Of course, I loved him. I married him. But people change over time. I wasn’t the same person ten years later that I was when we got married.”
“You chose him.” He was repeating himself now.
Her whisper gutted him. “You exited before I could make a choice.”
“What are you saying?”
“Hindsight is twenty-twenty, and I won’t look back.” A tendon in her neck shifted as she swallowed.
Damn him if he wanted to put his lips on the pulse right there. He forced himself to concentrate on what she was saying.
“I’m saying that I grew to love Elijah, and that love developed into deep friendship and companionship. I also missed you being around. I cared for you, too.”
He wanted to ask more, but anguish was etched in the tight lines around her eyes and mouth. He could have altered his own life happiness by taking different action years ago. His fears… the possibilities were too much to process tonight.
He let go of her hand for a moment. “This, um, arrangement that we have.”
“You want to stop.”
Cal shook his head. That was the exact opposite of what he wanted, which was the other big problem, for so many reasons. Right now, he wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her until he couldn’t think straight. Hold her so tightly that he couldn’t discern the boundaries of his own body or hers. Sink into her softness again and again until they were sated. He’d never have enough of her. His sad laugh surprised him. “Even a pretend relationship with you is worth more to me than a real relationship with anyone else.”
Crumbs. Cal’s heart would be happy with crumbs if they were from Deirdre.
“I don’t understand,” she said.
“Are we being completely honest here?”
“I’m scared to.” She closed and opened her eyes. “Yes. We’re adults. We can be honest.”
He picked up her hand and held it to his cheek for a moment. “Deirdre, I’d take a fraction of your kisses and sliver of your time and still consider myself the luckiest guy in the world.”
“Calvin, what are you saying?” Her chest rose and fell more quickly.
“It’s hard for me to admit this, knowing that the shadow of my friend is always hanging over me.”
“I get it. I keep thinking if I have any feeling of attraction, it’s a betrayal of Elijah.” She laced her fingers with his on the couch cushion. “Then I think about making this—us—real. It’s totally unfair of me. You deserve someone whole.”
For the second time in as many minutes, he pulled his head back. “That’s it. You are whole. You’re strong and amazing. You’re worth someone caring for you. Again. You don’t realize it.” He shook his head. “Or you don’t want to realize it.” He shrugged. “Hey, I’m an emergency physician, not a psychiatrist.” The laugh felt raw but also a relief, like a tense cyst popped. Pressure released. “I’m never going to be Elijah.”
The truth, staring him in the face. He’d spoken the words.
She sighed. “Your job isn’t to be Elijah.”
“I don’t know what my job is.”
“You mean besides deceiving the entire town so that we don’t get pestered?”
“Of course, that.” He laughed, the sensation foreign but pleasant. “Actually, I think the gig is up, Deirdre.”
The gleam in her eyes warmed him down to his toes. “It was kind of fun having a coconspirator.”
Not willing to deal with long-term plans and futures, he took a breath and dove in. “What I’m saying is, I wouldn’t mind conspiring with you in a real way.”
Her blue eyes locked onto his, and her lips parted.
This moment called for brutal, painful honestly. “You deserve more,” he said. Damn it, honesty could be terrifying. “I deserve a chance at more. I think we could be… that more … for each other.”
“Calvin. I… agree.” She shifted and sat up on her knees.
He leaned forward, their lips crashing together. A zing of electricity shot through him right down to his guilt complex. Her taste and the warmth of her body overrode any doubt or rational thought. Every nip of her mouth made him want more. Each breathy sigh added more tinder to the pile. An ember sparked in his belly and ignited a bonfire of desire. He cupped the back of her head, holding her steady so he could deepen the kiss. Her quickening breaths only served to fan the flames into an inferno roaring in his head.
He ran a finger under the neckline of her sweater, the softness of her skin tempting him to explore more. A niggling doubt, in the back of his mind said that he might not be here forever. He had other plans.
Reminded him that he was still second best.
He wanted Deirdre. He had always wanted Deirdre.
Time and distance and denial hadn’t eased his desire. Not one bit.
If anything, it had amplified his needs.
Deirdre. He needed the strong, smart woman sitting in front of him with a flush painting her cheeks and her lips temptingly parted. He wanted to hear more of those moans. He wanted the chance to have her as a coconspirator in the future.
How much future, he wasn’t prepared to assess.
He leaned in to meet her in another breath-stealing kiss that gave him vertigo. He was acting like a randy twenty-something instead of a fully formed and functional adult.
Pulling back for a second, he murmured, “This feels amazing. Are you okay?” He wasn’t asking only about the physical but the emotional as well.
Taking a shaky breath, she smoothed his shirt fabric that had crinkled under her fisted grasp. Her tongue darted to lick her lower lip, that small move sending shock waves of need to his groin.
“Very okay.” She moved forward, and he eased himself back on the couch, drawing her down with him.
Her face, her scent, her softness filled his senses. If Deirdre was a drug, he was hooked.
Skimming his hands under the sweater, he stroked over her back and down her sides. Gone was the high school girl he had fallen for. In her place was a woman with curves that tempted him to touch more. Time had changed her, inside and out. Time had changed Cal, too. He rested his hands at her waist, shaking with the craving to grip her soft skin. To rip off the clothes between them.
After all of these years, had they missed their opportunity for time together? It wasn’t too late. He refused to think of anything involving the logistics of a future. He shifted his hips to relieve the pressure from his rising erection.
He wanted more than a fling. God, he wanted Deirdre.
He lifted the bottom of the sweater, exposing even more skin and making his mouth water in anticipation of tasting. “Are we still good?” His voice sounded like gravel.
A smile crossed her face like the first sunrise after a long winter. She maintained eye contact with him right up until the point when she flipped the sweater off and tossed it on the floor. “Very good.” She pressed her palms to his chest and leaned forward, brushing her bra covered breasts against him.
He loved the connection, but by God, they both had way too many clothes on. She undid the first two buttons of his shirt, her warm fingers sending more sensual electricity through him with the quick, light movements that scrambled his brain.
Through the entirety of his life, he had never met a woman like Deirdre and never would again. Tonight was because he and Deirdre had chosen each other.
He palmed her breast through the bra, his desire spiking another ten notches. He drifted his thumbs over her nipples, appreciating the hard peaks that rose after only a few strokes. He rolled his lips inward, wanting to taste and tease her breasts.
“Calvin.” She lay down on him for another scorching kiss.
Minutes later, they pulled away, panting.
Second best felt like first place right about now.
“Not here.” He sat up, holding Deirdre by her hips.
“What?” Her confident gaze wavered.
“I want this to be perfect. We are not making out on the couch like a couple of high school students.”
“It seems like that’s exactly what we were doing.” Her grin lit up her face and made her glow.
“We need to move to a location where I can touch every inch of you, and we don’t risk throwing out our necks or backs. The bed?”
“No guarantees we won’t throw something out there, either.” She twined her arms around his neck, pressed against his chest and kissed him until his arms inched farther around her back. He couldn’t get close enough. “Yes. The bed.”