Chapter 24 #2
“When my father passed away, I felt so helpless. The farm was always a space of happiness for my family, and I wasn’t sure we’d ever get back to that.”
“Well, I’d say you did.” Remembering the look on everyone’s faces during the Harvest Bonfire had me reminding Calvin of his hard work, too. “A great loss doesn’t negate the feelings of happiness that life can provide. Sometimes it just makes us appreciate all those little moments even more.”
He chuckled as he pulled me into his side. “You’re starting to sound like Grandma Trixie.”
“I’m taking that as a compliment.”
“It definitely is.”
We stayed out until I couldn’t fight the cold anymore and a shiver racked my body. Even though Calvin brought a blanket and I was nestled right in close to him, I couldn’t warm up.
“Do you want to go inside? We could start a fire and throw on a movie,” he asked, making sure I was okay with it.
I nodded. “As long as you don’t hate me if I fall asleep on your couch, me and movies never seem to make it to the end.”
“I could never hate you, Stella.”
He tossed the blanket back in his truck as he passed it, and we made our way hand-in-hand up to the house.
“Now, I have to warn you, I do have a—”
Calvin was cut off by a loud yowl as he opened the door and a bright orange ball of fur went flying at Calvin’s chest. I screamed, thinking something was attacking him for a moment until he burst into laughter.
“A cat,” Calvin finished while a deep rumble rolled through him and he nuzzled into the creature. “Bernard, that is no way to treat our guest.”
“Calvin!” I shrieked. “If I had known you have a cat, I would have been here every day!”
“Well, I wish I would have told you sooner,” he said as a soft pink coloured his cheeks.
He led me into his house which was impeccably decorated. It was warm and cozy like Trixie’s house, but much more modern. There were still handmade afghans on the couches, books on the shelves, and artwork lining the walls, but the lamps and furniture were all newer pieces.
I was drawn to look at some of the family photos in the hallway.
Most were of Calvin, Garrett, and Melody when they were younger—one of them running in a field, one of them all on different branches of a tree.
A couple were of Calvin and Garrett holding guitars, Melody just a blur beside them as she must not have stopped dancing for the picture.
I glanced over a couple more pictures, each one further proof of how much this man loved his family.
“Is that your dad?” I pointed to a man in a large group picture. I could recognize Trixie and Vicky and assumed the baby she was holding had been Melody, and the two boys at her feet were obviously Calvin and Garrett, but I didn’t recognize anyone else.
“Yeah, that’s my dad and a couple of my uncles. They’re kind of all over the province now running their own businesses, my dad was the only one to stay on the farm.”
I wondered why there weren’t more pictures of Calvin’s dad around. There had been tons of Calvin with his mom, grandma and grandpa, and siblings. But that large group photo was the only one of his dad.
Then again, I knew grief was a journey that everyone travelled differently.
A shiver traced its way up my spine and goose bumps erupted across my arms.
“Come on, let’s get you warmed up,” Calvin said as he took my hand and led me to the living room.
We settled onto the couch and Calvin turned on a movie. Some old-school Halloween horror to end the night or whatever. The only thing I could focus on was the circles his thumb drew on my collarbone with the arm draped around me and how it sent tingles down my spine.
I trembled and realized it wasn’t just Calvin making me feel that way. I had changed into my usual sweater and leggings outfit of choice, we had multiple blankets on us, a fire roaring in the wood stove in the corner, and I was snuggled up to the world’s best heater, but I still couldn’t get warm.
Calvin must have noticed, and instead of grabbing another blanket he reached over and scooped me up into his lap. I nestled between his strong thighs and rested my head against his chest while he planted kisses that were soft as butterfly touches to the top of my head.
If I could have dissolved into a puddle at that moment, I would have. And I wasn’t talking about the puddle that was already forming between my legs.
“This is nice,” I hummed into his chest.
“I agree,” he said, his hand finding my cheek and caressing me softly.
I looked up at him and the heat in his eyes was undeniable. The green called to me in a language that was all our own, and I wanted nothing more than to speak in soft tones with our lips pressed together.
I leaned into him at the same time as he tilted my chin up to meet his lips. His touch was tender at first, gently asking permission without words. I traced his lips with my tongue, giving him the confirmation he needed to take everything I wanted to give him.
He deepened the kiss with more force and pressure, grasping my hair at the nape of my neck and pulling me closer to him. But it still wasn’t enough.
I wanted more. I needed more.
I adjusted myself to straddle him, feeling his hard erection exactly where I wanted it.
“Oh fuck, Stella,” he moaned into my mouth.
I hummed and rolled my hips in response, making him hiss.
I felt pure satisfaction at seeing him come apart in this way and knowing I was the cause of it.
“May I?” he asked as he reached up toward the hem of my sweater, trailing his fingers against my bare skin.
“Yes, please.”
I desperately wanted his touch. His gentle pressure was at odds with his calloused hands and I craved more.
I arched my back as his hand went higher from my stomach to slowly trail my ribs, and then eventually make contact as his finger and thumb gently pinched my nipple.
He kissed along my neck, murmuring sweet nothings about how good I smelt, how good I felt, how good I tasted. It was everything I needed.
Until it wasn’t.
My heart rate suddenly picked up rapidly. My breath that was once whisper-soft was quick and a struggle to intake. Instead of the tingles of pleasure running along my skin, it began to crawl. And I was hot. So, so hot. And not from lust but from pure panic.
“Stella?” Calvin’s voice sounded underwater and a million miles away, but I tried to keep performing. I tried to keep grinding on his lap and reaching up to touch his arms, to kiss his neck. I told him yes and I didn’t want to let him down.
“Wildflower, stop. Breathe with me for a sec.”
His hands found my hips first and stopped them from moving. He had pulled my sweater back down to cover me up, and I hadn’t even noticed. Bringing his hands to my cheeks, he tilted my forehead down to meet his.
Saying nothing, he took a deep breath in, holding his inhale for a few seconds, and then let it go slowly and controlled. I tried to mimic his next one and I was still too fast, but his soft touch and continued breaths encouraged me to try again.
Eventually, our breathing fell in sync. The black around my vision faded away. My skin stopped crawling with a thousand spiders, and I came up from under the water.
“I’m so sorry,” I said softly, admitting my fault.
“Oh, love, why would you be sorry?” He was using that voice again, soothing just like a song.
“I said yes, and then panicked…I think maybe it was too soon. Can we just cuddle instead?”
I thought I’d see disappointment in his face, but instead he beamed. “I would love nothing more.”
Calvin stood with his arms holding me under my thighs. My arms wrapped around his neck and my legs around his waist. I buried my face into his neck and giggled softly.
“I can walk, you know.”
“I do know that. I also know that I can carry you. And if I have the option to have you in my arms or not, I’m always going to choose to hold you.”
As Calvin carried me to his bedroom, there may have still been some sexual tension, but he was nothing but attentive as he showed me where he kept some extra toothbrushes.
I snagged a shirt from a nearby chair to sleep in, and when I came out of the bathroom all ready for bed and wearing his shirt that smelled incredibly like him, his eyes looked at me in a way that almost made me regret my request to just snuggle.
Then he flipped the blankets over, and I burst out laughing. He had been lying under the covers in the most ridiculous unicorn onesie.
“Mel got it for me for Christmas last year and it’s the comfiest thing I own,” he said without an ounce of embarrassment. The way this man owned himself and loved his family made me weak.
I crawled into bed next to him, and there was zero hesitation as he grabbed my hand, pulling it to his mouth to give it a quick kiss. He then guided me to turn to face away from him as he rounded his chest against my back and wrapped me in the most perfect little cocoon.
The way we fit together made me believe that maybe I could put all my broken pieces back together, too, and re-emerge as something entirely new.