I looked down at the doll in my hand and then back up to Millie who was staring at me. “Oh, right. Yes, Barbie, I would love to go.”
And that was how I played house for the first time in my hundred and thirteen years on earth.
After my Barbie and Ken role-playing, I dozed off, needing to get a few more hours of sleep while the wild child was at ballet. Three hours later, I woke and grabbed my phone.
Want to come over to Martin’s for dinner?
Tonight?
Yeah. You two need to meet, remember?
There was a brief pause before I saw the dots dance across the screen.
Okay. Should I bring anything?
I smiled as I texted back.
Just your sweet ass, sweetheart.
Okay. What time should I be there?
Let me check with Martin.
I called Martin on his cell.
“You’re up,” he answered.
“I am.”
“I’ll make sure all the blinds are closed.”
“Thanks.”
After I moved to Alaska, Martin knew I was coming back to help him and that I’d need a safe place to stay while I was here, so he and Marcy had blackout curtains installed on all the windows. To be safer, I slept in the basement because with my luck, Millie would open the curtains to wake me and really set my ass on fire.
After I threw on some sweats, I walked upstairs and found Martin in his office. “What time should Calla come for dinner?”
He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “I think you should ask the boss.”
“Marcy isn’t here.”
“She’ll be here in a few minutes,” he said, and just as he spoke the words, I heard her car pull into the driveway.
“She’s here now.”
We stared at each other as I waited for the chaos that was his kids to come running into the house. Once the door shut and I heard their little feet run up to their rooms, I left to go find his wife.
“Hey, Marse.”
Her cobalt eyes brightened, and a smile spread across her face as she opened her arms for a hug. “I think it’s unfair you don’t age.”
I embraced her. “Neither do you.”
She laughed as we pulled apart. “Please. I woke up yesterday and found my first grey hair. Grey hair at thirty-five. Thirty-five!”
I knew some woman got grey hair in their twenties, but I didn’t want to point that out to her. “You’re still as beautiful as the day we met.”
“Stop hitting on my wife,” Martin snapped, walking into the kitchen.
Marcy rolled her eyes at the ridiculous statement.
I rubbed the back of my neck. I felt like a kid asking his mom if someone could come over and play.
“What is?” Marcy asked.
“Can my girlfriend come to dinner?”
Marcy sucked in a breath. “I’ve been waiting weeks to ask you about her.”
“Oh, God,” I groaned.
“Tell me everything about her.” She turned to the coffee maker and stuck in a pod.
“Yes, give us the rundown, D.” Martin chuckled, grabbing his own mug.
“Can you two just ask her when she gets here?”
Marcy tsked. “I will have questions for her, but I want you to tell me your side of things now.”
It was my time to roll my eyes. “First, can she come to dinner or not?”
“Of course she can come to dinner,” Marcy stated.
“What time?” I prodded.
“Five work? She can have a few drinks and appetizers before you two grill some steaks after the sun goes down. She likes meat, right?”
I smiled. “Yes, she likes meat.”
“Perfect.”
I grabbed my phone from the pocket of my sweats and texted Calla what time to be here and the address. The sun this time of year would be fully down by six, and hopefully, Calla wouldn’t notice I couldn’t go outside before then.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
As I got ready to head to Martin’s, I felt as though I was about to meet Draven’s parents. I was nervous. What if Martin didn’t like me and refused to drive back with me to Burn Falls? Would Draven really hire a moving truck to move me to Alaska? I was certain it was expensive to do that.
I limped my way to the front door, the ache between my legs burning with each step. There had been times in the past that I was sore after sex because it had been awhile in between boyfriends. But this was different. Even though it had been almost a year between partners, I’d never limped before. I’d never had table moving, pounding into me, can barely walk sex before either. Who knew that Dr. Draven Young would be so aggressive in bed? Or so forceful on the dining room table for that matter. I wasn’t sure if it was the ice, the heat of the lube, or the way his fingers dug into my hips while he drove into me, but I was feeling things I’d never felt before. It was as though Draven had opened up something inside of me and I would have let that man do anything to my body because I knew, whatever it was going to be, I would benefit from it.
I wasn’t complaining one bit that it hurt to walk. I’d welcome it again.
And again.
And again.
As I drove to the address Draven had texted me, my nerves were still getting the best of me, and all I wanted to do was turn around, grab a few pieces of chocolate, and try to calm them. But I also wanted to see Draven.
So I got in my car and drove to the address he’d given me.
When I pulled up to the two-story house, the sun had started to set. Taking a deep breath, I got out of my car and limped my way to the front door, praying that it would be Draven who opened it. The chocolate I’d wanted had now turned into a craving for anything that was carbs: bread, fries, potato chips, you name it. Carbs were like a calming hug, and I needed to feel anything except this anxiety coursing through my veins. Instead of Draven answering the door, it was another man who I assumed was Martin.
“Calla?” he asked.
I smiled warmly and stuck out my hand to greet him. “Yes. And you must be Martin?”
“I am, but call me Marty. All my friends do.” He smiled and took my hand.
My smile grew wider. “Marty it is.”
“Please, come in.”
I stepped inside, and as soon as Martin closed the door behind me, I noticed that all of the curtains had been drawn. At first, I thought it was strange, but as I walked farther into the house, I saw children watching a movie, and I got it. A lazy Sunday movie day, that’s why the house was dark. I couldn’t wait to move to Burn Falls and enjoy lazy Sundays with Draven while we lounged in bed and watched movies.
Martin led me to the kitchen. “Marse, meet Calla. Calla this is my wife, Marcy,” Martin said, introducing me to the woman at the stove.
Marcy turned, her shoulder-length, light-brown hair fanning around her. She stepped forward with open arms and gushed, “It’s so nice to finally meet you.”
“Let my girl breathe, Marse,” said the man who I couldn’t stop thinking about from behind me.
Marcy let go of me. “She can breathe, you jackass. I was just greeting her.”
“It’s nice to meet you too,” I finally said.
Draven brought me into his arms and kissed the top of my head. “Have a good day, sweets?”
I nodded against his chest. “Slept in, and then I caught up on my TV shows before they disconnect my cable Thursday night.”
“Sounds like a good day then.”
I looked up at him. “Would have been better with you there.”
Before Draven could respond, I turned to see a little girl running into the kitchen with two older girls trailing behind her. “Uncle Draven! Uncle Draven!”
“What is it, girls?” he asked, still holding me in his arms.
“Is this your
girrrlfriend?” the youngest sang.
Marcy had a grin spread across her face as she waited for an answer, and Martin went to the fridge with a chuckle. I knew the giddiness was normal for little girls, but I didn’t understand why Martin and Marcy would think Draven having a girlfriend was funny.
Draven looked down at me with his dark gaze. “Are you?”
I sucked in a breath and then bit my lip. “Yeah?”
He smiled and then turned his attention back to the girls. “Yeah, Millie, this is my girlfriend, Calla.”
“Ooooo,” she sang again and giggled some more while holding her hands over her face.
Draven stepped to the side of me but kept his arm around my shoulder. “Calla, this is Melinda, Macy, and this nosey one is Millie. The cutest kids I know.”
I turned to Marcy. “Everyone has an M name?”
She snorted and turned to grab the bottle of wine in the center of the kitchen island. “This one,” she hooked her thumb toward Martin who was passing Draven a beer, “thought it would be cute since both of our names start with an M.”
I grinned. “That’s actually really cute.”
“See. Told you,” Martin stated.
I watched Marcy pop the cork on the white wine and roll her eyes. “Except no one can remember their names.”
“Yeah, I can see how that would be confusing.”
Martin, Marcy, Melinda, Macy, Millie, I chanted in my head over and over.
Marcy slid a glass of wine in my direction. “Take a seat and let me tell you some secrets about Draven.”
I smirked and looked up at Draven again. “You have secrets?”
He closed his eyes briefly as though he didn’t want to answer. “Everyone has secrets, sweets.”
For the next hour, and a couple of glasses of wine later, Marcy and I bonded as though we were becoming fast friends. The sun had fully gone down, the girls were finishing their movie, and I was watching my boyfriend shoot the shit with Martin outside while they grilled steaks.
“How often does Draven come and visit you guys?” I asked, staring at him through the glass window to the backyard.
“At least once a month.”
“That’s awesome he’s able to come and visit so often.”
“It is, and I hope you’ll come visit too.”
“I’ll try. I’ve never had to run a business before, so I think the first six or so months will be tough.”
“You know, he’s never mentioned a girlfriend before, let alone let us meet one.”
“Really?” I asked, looking back into Marcy’s bright-blue eyes.
“I know it’s new and all, but I think Draven really likes you.”
It was new in the sense that we had just started dating, but it felt like forever ago when we were at the bar across from the hospital. “I really like him too,” I admitted, and looked out at Draven as he and Martin laughed about something I couldn’t hear.
I liked the way my insides fluttered when he put his hand on my knee and told me that he hadn’t been able to stop looking at me since he’d first laid eyes on me. And I liked when he told me that he thought I’d taste like heaven, or when he told me that if I weren’t drunk, he’d bend me over the barstool and fuck me—hard. He really meant it because he does fuck hard. I liked it when he carried me inside my house, tucked me in bed and then kissed my forehead, and when he made sure to touch me and give me comfort when we decided to take my father off of life support even though we were in the middle of the hospital and people could see.
I could go on and on about everything Draven had done and how he’d made me feel in the short amount of time we’d known each other. He’d done a lot to show me how he cares about me. Like when he made sure I got home safe from Maxwell’s, tried to comfort me when my father passed away and how he wanted to make sure I was safe on my drive back to Burn Falls. Then, of course, how we drove hours to have our first kiss under the Northern Lights.
After we ate dinner, the girls started another movie leaving the adults to sit around the dining room table to get to know each other better.
“How did you three meet anyway?” I asked.
“Draven saved my life.” My heart swelled thinking of Draven in surgery and saving lives, but then Martin quickly added, “I was a rook and—”
Draven cut in. “And he almost got his ass handed to him making a traffic stop. I was walking home from the hospital and saw the altercation. Before I knew it, I was joining in and distracting the guys so Marty could get the situation under control.”
My eyes widened in shock. “You got in a fight to save his life?”
“Something like that,” he murmured.
Then I started to remember my research on how old a person had to be to be a doctor, and I wondered how old you had to be to make Lieutenant for the police department. “Was that when you were in medical school?”
Draven rubbed the back of his neck as though he was nervous. “No, I was working at Hope Haven as a resident.”
“Oh, right. You said you were walking home from the hospital.” I took a sip of my wine. “How old are you anyway?”
Marcy started to choke on her wine, and Draven sprang into action, racing to pat her on the back. “Are you okay, Marse?” he asked.
“Went down the wrong pipe,” she wheezed.
“Let me get you some water.” Martin stood and went to the kitchen.
After her coughing fit was over and she could breathe again, my phone chirped with a text. Valencia
Come to Extra Point for drinks.
I’m having dinner at Martin’s with Draven.
Bring them! Seahawks are on, and Athan and I are playing darts.
I have work tomorrow.
I know, but this is our last week together for God knows how long. Please come!
“Everything okay?” Draven asked, squeezing my knee after returning to his seat.
“Valencia wants us to go to Extra Play to play darts and watch football.”
“You want to go?” he asked.
I looked at Marcy and Martin as they sat back down at the dining room table across from us. I didn’t want to be rude.
“Go. Please,” Marcy said. “It’s been fun, but I should get the girls ready for bed. It’s almost past their bedtimes, Millie’s especially.”
The girls were still in the living room, engrossed in another movie and probably trying to be quiet so they didn’t remind their parents that it was after their bedtimes.
“And I have work tomorrow too,” Martin said.
“Do you want to come? Athan is there,” I asked Draven.
“Sure, but I have to warn you that I’ve been playing darts for years.”
“Good, you can be on my team.” We started to stand. “Speaking of Athan, I was surprised he didn’t want to stay for dinner.”
“He didn’t know about it.” Draven winked. “Said he was taking Valencia out.”
After I said my goodbyes, Draven drove us to meet up with Valencia and Athan. They were at the back wall of the sports bar playing darts against two guys.
“Who’s winning?” I asked, coming up behind Valencia.
She turned and threw herself at me, hugging me tightly. “You came!”
“I texted that I would.”
“I didn’t get it. We’ve been kicking these guy’s asses at darts.” She hooked her thumb in the direction of the guys I didn’t know.
“You want a drink, sweets?” Draven asked.
“OBB neat,” I replied with a smile.
“Switching to whiskey?” He grinned back.
I shrugged. “Now that it’s available.”
“I’ll make sure Martin has it at his house the next time you come over.”
“The next time?” I asked, thinking that I was going back to Alaska in less than a week an
d I wasn’t sure when I’d be back.
“Trust me. Marcy will nag me until you come back. Even for a weekend.”
Draven bent and pressed his lips to mine just as Athan hit a bullseye and V cheered next to me.
“We play winner,” Draven stated to Athan as we broke apart.
“Couple versus couple?” Athan asked.
“Yeah.” Draven walked toward the bar, and I turned to V.
“You two are a couple?” I nudged my head toward Athan.
She shrugged. “We’re just having fun.”
I grinned. “Good.”
Draven returned with a round of OBB for the four of us, and after Athan and V beat the guys—well, more Athan than Valencia—we started to play a round. Athan and Draven were neck and neck, usually hitting bullseyes, or at least the green center circle. Valencia and I—not so much. Draven and I ended up taking the game, and the two men replaced Athan and V.
“You want to make this interesting?” one of the guys asked.
“What do you have in mind?”
“A hundred?”
Draven’s gaze flicked to Athan and then back to the guy. “Us two verses you two?” he asked, motioning between him and Athan, not Draven and me. I didn’t mind. If money was on the line, I didn’t want to be responsible for losing.
“You scared to lose with your girl playing?” the other guy mocked.
Draven looked at me and then back to the guys. “Not at all.”
“Oh God,” I groaned.
“I’ll even do it with my eyes closed.”
My eyes widened at Draven’s statement as the guys laughed.
“If you want,” the first guy mocked.
Draven and Athan shared a look again, and then Draven looked to me. “Ready, sweets?”
The only saving grace was that it wasn’t my money on the line. I just hoped that Draven wouldn’t be upset if we didn’t win. “I guess so,” I replied and then downed the rest of my whiskey.
“You’ve got this, Calla!” Valencia shouted.
We started to play round by round, and Draven did keep his eyes closed. Surprisingly, he was still hitting close to the bullseye. Athan had gotten us another round of drinks, and the Seahawks were winning in the fourth quarter of their playoff game. All was good, and Draven was going to be one-hundred dollars richer.
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