Chapter 43 You’re Bluffing
Dakota
I try to keep it together as I drive the short distance from my house to Cozy and Max’s place. Cozy invited me over for a
girl’s night with her and Trista, and I could use a drink. I’ve been in a foul mood since Calder stormed through my shop on
Thursday and dumped those shelves without a look back.
And the attitude he brought them over with still has me seeing red. He was moody, dismissive, and everything that drives me
nuts about him. Why does he get to be mad at me right now? I wasn’t the one who lied and withheld valuable information. What
else has he lied to me about? How well do I even really know him?
And why the hell did I ever think it would be a good idea to enter an enemies-with-benefits relationship with him? When do
situations like that ever actually work out and everyone parts ways with no harm done? Never. At least I didn’t lose a friend
through all of this. We started as enemies and we’ll end as enemies. As it should be.
And a sex club? Jesus. That was so unlike me. I can’t believe I didn’t realize how raw I was after my divorce. How unstable
and impulsive it was of me to go there alone.
Thankfully, going back there last weekend with Calder did at least show me that I no longer need a kinky sex club to feel
good about myself or push myself out of my comfort zone. I can do it on my own.
But it was a whole lot more fun with Calder. I hate how much I miss him.
I ring the doorbell of Max and Cozy’s house, steeling myself to not be a sorry sack all night long. I need to laugh again. Need to have a drink and stop thinking about the inky mountain man who looked so good in my bed last Sunday.
The door swings open, and I glance down to find Ethan greeting me. His dark hair is tucked under a backward cap, and he has
a white tank top on with some unusual art on his tiny arms.
“Did you get some fresh tats since I last saw you, Ethan?” I ask, laughing at the temporary nylon tattoo sleeves he has covering
both arms.
“Yeah, my uncle took me to the tattoo shop last night.” He rubs his hands over his arms and attempts to flex. Gosh, he really
does look like a miniature Calder.
“Wow, did those hurt to get?” I touch the designs on his arm.
Ethan looks up at me like I’m a complete moron. “They’re not real, Dakota.”
I huff out a laugh through my nose and ask, “Is your mom home?”
“Yeah, come on in. I’m just getting your chips set up.”
“My chips?” I follow Ethan through the entry way and around the corner where the house opens to the living room and dining
area that overlooks Max and Cozy’s back deck.
I glance at the table and see various spots set up for a poker game. A lot more than three people it would seem. Are Max and
Ethan joining us? Not exactly what I had in mind for a night with the girls, but I guess it might be nice to take my mind
off—
“Here you go, Ace,” Calder’s voice causes me to jump three feet.
I whirl around, and my eyes lock on the big brawny sight of him, my stomach swirling with nerves. He’s dressed in jeans and
a black-and-white flannel shirt rolled up to his elbows, revealing that alluring ink of his, and he has a backward baseball
cap on, similar to Ethan’s. It’s a new look for him, and one that I do not mind one bit.
I glance down at the money he’s holding out to me. “What’s this?”
“Your buy-in.” He shoots me a crooked smile that I feel squarely between my legs.
“My what?” I’m suddenly distracted by several voices coming from the kitchen around the wall.
I walk over and see Cozy, Max, Trista, Wyatt, Luke, and Johanna all eating snacks around the island. This looks like the opposite
of a girl’s night. This looks like a family reunion.
“Why are there so many people here?”
“We invited some extras for our poker night,” Calder answers with a shrug, like it’s totally normal for him to be here and
we didn’t just get in the worst fight I’ve ever had with a man I’m sleeping with.
“Are the ladies participating in the poker playing?”
“Yes, that’s what this is for.” He thrusts the cash into my hand. “I know you like to fuck the patriarchy by letting a man
pay for your buy-in, and I aim to please.”
“What does fuck the patriarchy mean?” Ethan asks, shoving a pretzel into his mouth.
Calder waggles his eyebrows at me. “You want to answer that one, Blondie?”
Ethan stares at me, waiting for my answer, and I gasp at the memory of a different Fletcher child asking me this same question
many years ago. It was in this very room with this very mountain man looking at me just like he is now.
And he called me Blondie.
My throat feels tight as the group from the kitchen descends upon the dining area. I’m still a bit frozen as Cozy spots me
and smiles brightly. She walks over, and my face morphs into something a bit less friendly.
“What the hell is going on?”
“It’s poker night!”
“I really need people to stop staying that.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Are we staying here for poker night?”
“Yes, we are.”
“Why are we staying for poker night?”
“Because I think it could be fun.”
I hit her with a punishing glower because something is seriously up, but there’s too many people around for me to throw a fit about it.
So I accept the giant glass of wine Trista hands me and head over to the table, sitting directly across from the man whose face I can’t stop picturing, and do my best to go with the flow.
“What are these cards?” I ask as Ethan deals out two cards to everyone.
“Calder’s baby pictures!” Johanna answers with a laugh, but she’s not playing poker. She’s walking around the table while
feeding a bottle to Stevie. “Wasn’t he the cutest baby?”
“Yeah, Ace. Wasn’t I the cutest baby?” Calder waggles his brows at me suggestively, and I start to wonder if perhaps I dreamed
about our big fight and him punching Randal and me riding home in a cab crying.
Or maybe right now is a dream, and I’m about to wake up any minute. Either way, I’m glad he’s calling me Ace instead of Blondie.
That was a horrible nickname he slapped me with all those years ago.
As everyone begins placing their early bets, Calder has me nearly spitting out my wine when he says, “Hey Dakota, did you
know in seventh grade I shit my pants?”
I sputter and cough and hit my chest, struggling to catch my breath as Cozy slaps my back from her seat next to me. “No...
Why?”
He shrugs. “Just wanted to share that with you.”
I frown and do my best to focus back on the cards.
“Wyatt, how many fights would you say I’ve been in?” Calder asks, propping his bearded chin on his hand and staring at his
older brother.
Wyatt scrunches his forehead in thought. “I want to say five.”
“Six,” Luke corrects, pulling his baseball cap down low over his face. “We brawled with those guys that talked shit about
Trista last year at the Merc.”
“Oh, that’s right!” Trista gasps, pressing a hand to her heart and sticking her lower lip out. “You guys were the sweetest little assaulters.”
“We were, weren’t we?” Calder says with a smile and turns his focus back to me. “I’ve been in six fights, Dakota. Seven if
you count me knocking out Randal last weekend.”
Okay, so that wasn’t a dream, but that doesn’t rule out the idea that this could be a dream. “Good for you?” I reply like
it’s a question because I don’t know what is happening.
“Mom, remember that time I got arrested for going to that party in the woods?”
“When you were seventeen? Yes, I remember,” Johanna responds, her face surly and scowling. “Your father had to pick you up
at the cop shop and go to juvenile drug-and-alcohol education classes with you for two weeks.”
“Dad was so pissed about that,” Luke says with a laugh.
Calder winces. “Yeah, it’s still a weirdly good memory I have with Dad, though.” A thoughtful look spreads across his face
before he looks at me again. “That’s the worst legal thing I’ve ever been involved with... for now, at least.”
“Can I go to a party in the woods when I’m seventeen?” Ethan asks, to which the entire table responds No .
“Tell her about your favorite TV show,” Trista says, chiming in out of nowhere. I jerk an accusing glare her direction, still
trying to figure out what the hell is going on, and she just smiles coyly back at me.
Calder loses all humor on his face. “You swore you wouldn’t tell anyone, Trista.”
“I’m not going to say it! You are.” She giggles and hides behind her two cards.
With a heavy sigh, Calder turns his menacing glower from her to me, softening as he looks at me. “My favorite TV show is Gilmore Girls . There. I said it. I love that small-town shit. Come at me, you assholes.”
Wyatt, Luke, and Max all tear into him about his love for the show, and I still can’t understand this Calder theme-night thing happening. It seems like everyone is in on it, but it still doesn’t explain to me why it’s happening.
“I’m just fucking the patriarchy, guys.” He winks at me, and I swear my stomach gets butterflies. Why the hell is this working?
“Calder once picked a fight with a mannequin when he was drunk,” Max says, slapping the table.
“It’s true. Also, when I was eight years old, I stole a pack of Bubblicious gum from the gas station, and I still have it
in my dresser to this day. I felt too guilty to eat it but also too embarrassed to return it.”
“Also, no one wants almost thirty-year-old gum returned,” Luke deadpans.
Calder’s head snaps back to me. “I was at a lake once, and there was sign that said not to feed the ducks, but I fed them.
I’m sure that upsets you because of your sincere hatred for birds, but it’s better you know this side of me now.”
My eyes swim with confusion as I process everything he’s saying. “Calder, what are you doing?”
“I’m telling you anything from my past that I think you should know. So there’s no more hidden truths like the Randal thing.”
I cringe, feeling awkward about bringing up all of that in front of everyone at the table. “Why is everyone participating?”
“Because we like you two together,” Trista adds with a smile.