Page 61 of Seven Year Itch
Unfortunately, the only thing staring back at me is a sad, thirty-three-year-old single woman who did a great job pretending to be a ten on the outside but let a small man make her feel like a six on the inside. And I know Randal’s opinion of me shouldn’t matter. He’s awful, and this is why I divorced him. But it still hurts to know the man I chose to live my life with thought so little of me in the end.
My eyes catch on a lacey red dress hanging in the attached closet behind me, and I turn around to stare at it. It was an outfit that I bought before Mexico that I had big plans for and never followed through with.
Stop being a victim of your own life.
Randal used those words to belittle me, but I am no victim.I am a ten on the inside and out.It’s time I get back to my plan.
Chapter 20
Knock Knock... Who’s There?
Calder
“You have to chill out, Fuzz,” I bellow to Milkshake who’s been crying at the door since I got home from work an hour ago.
She’s been a whiney brat lately. Clearly starved for attention because it’s been all work and no play since we got back from Mexico. I had Judy pop up the mountain to take care of her while we were gone, and she gave her plenty of loving. But the needy girl has been dying to get outside since we returned, and I’m pretty sure Judy would have laughed in my face if I asked her to wear the cat pack and take her for walks.
Wyatt, Luke, and I have been busting our asses lately because we’re majorly behind on a custom build for a high-maintenance client in Boulder. Behind on deadlines means late nights in town, which really put Milkshake in a mood. And me for that matter. She weaves between my feet as I button up a clean flannel. I barely had time to shower and clean up after work, never mind eat because this cat is up my damn ass to go outside.
I stuff my feet into my boots and throw on the harness and before I can even hold my hands out, Milkshake leaps up into my arms, vibrating with excitement.
“High-maintenance, pain-in-my-ass brat,” I grumble as I swing the front door open and work on securing her in the harness.
“Well, hello to you too,” a voice says, and my jaw drops as I do a double take, unable to process the person standing on my front porch.
I usually hear cars coming up the gravel, but maybe I was in the shower when she pulled in? I lean out the door to look around,wondering if anyone else is here. Maybe she’s hanging out with Trista, but all I see is Dakota’s green SUV parked directly in front of my house. So odds are she’s here to see me. Again.
When will her being up here on my mountain ever stop feeling weird? It was weird the other day when she was in my workshop, and it’s extra weird now that she’s on my porch, standing before me in a tight pair of leggings, a graphic sweatshirt that saysBoulder-Bred, her long coat, and snow boots with the mountain backdrop behind her.
My cock likes how she looks up here.
Down, boy.
“What’s going on?” I ask, clearing my throat as Dakota’s eyes fixate on my cat. “Did you have a change of heart on your shelving units?”
“What? Oh gosh, no. All good there. Take as long as you want on those. I’m in no rush.” The smile on her face is tight as she points to my chest. “Did you lose a bet?”
“No,” I grumble defensively, clutching Milkshake to my chest. “This is my cat, and we were just going to go for a walk.”
“You walk your cat in a baby carrier?”
“Yes, I do.” I narrow my eyes at her. “And if you’re going to make fun of me, just know that Wyatt and Luke have already come up with all the lame-ass fucking cat dad jokes you can imagine. I’m immune to you cat-haters of the world.”
“I don’t hate cats.” She steps closer to me, and my heart rate spikes as she bathes me in her spicy perfume. She reaches up and pets Milkshake and my eyes drift down her neck, catching the way the shirt shows off her collarbone.
Milkshake purrs like a traitor, leaning away from me to accept the affection from this perfect stranger. “You call her Milkshake, right?” Dakota looks up at me, and her blue eyes do nothing to slow my heart rate down.
“Milkshake or Fuzz,” I say gruffly, trying to sound unbothered. “Or Little Witch sometimes because she can be that.”
Milkshake meows, punctuating my point.
Dakota smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. She clearly has something on her mind, and I’m kind of nervous to find out what it is. “Can I walk with you?”
I swallow. “I guess so. I mean... sure.”
I close my cabin door and glance up the hill to Luke’s, and I swear I see the ass duck down from the window. Fucking creep. I’m sure Wyatt and Trista have their noses pressed up against the glass at their place too with little Stevie enjoying the show. Moments like this make living next door to family a big pain in the ass.
I’ve brought women up on the mountain before, so that’s nothing to take note of. But Dakota Schaefer twice in one week? That is newsworthy in the Fletcher clan.
