“No, it’s not too big. Or too many pieces.” Calder knew me well enough to predict that was likely my next objection, and he wasn’t wrong. Despite the weekend crowd at the store and my attitude issues, his smile was broad as ever. “Trust me.”
“I do.” I rubbed the bridge of my nose, promising myself a coffee at the place near the exit if I could find a fraction of Calder’s patience and interest. He was trying hard to make this fun for me. For us, really. It was a nice weekend project and I needed to get over whatever issue my brain was having with accepting his help.
“Then trust my measuring.”
“All right. Put it in the cart.” I tried for a smile.
“Good.” Calder hefted multiple boxes into the cart. The flex of his muscles was a pleasant distraction, but then he paused with one box still in his arms. “Wait. Should I be concerned about your budget here? I know Tim did a number on your finances.”
“This is fine,” I assured Calder, hating that we even had to have this conversation. “The divorce was expensive. But that has to do more with big picture finances, like needing a home equity mortgage and liquidating a bunch of investments to buy him out. I’m good for some storage bins, even if I wish I didn’t need them.”
“Why?” Calder saw this whole thing as a lark. Sorting was fun. Measuring was fun. Power tools were fun. A trip to the store was an adventure. And meanwhile, I was over here trying to not feel like a failure.
“I don’t like feeling like I’ve dropped the ball,” I admitted because I knew he’d just chase me down if I didn’t give a real reason.
“You said something similar last night before I hit my head.” After putting the box in the cart, Calder rubbed my upper arm, apparently caring not that we were in a busy shelving aisle. “Felix, you’ve had two years from hell. If your pantry and closets suffered, be glad that’s all that needs overhauling.”
“I know.” I huffed out a breath. He was right. And he was kind and generous, doing this with me. “I just hate needing help.”
“You don’t,” he said firmly.
“I don’t?” I was pretty sure my search for an after-school nanny alone revealed how much I couldn’t do it all on my own.
“It’s what I like about you. You’re so damn self-sufficient. You take pride in taking care of most things yourself. And that’s great. I admire that.”
“Thank you.” I looked down at the scarred flooring. I liked that he saw me that way, as someone who could handle problems.
“But your independence is what makes helping you so fun. You letting me help with something feels like a win. Like I scored, getting to do something for you.”
“You do like to win.” And I didn’t mind being able to give him that feeling. Like the sex last night, being able to do things for him that made him feel like a winner was immensely satisfying. His surprise when he realized he was about to climax was one of my all-time favorite sights, ever. “I like helping you win too.”
“And I like being able to choose. My mom is similar to you in being able to handle a lot on her own, and if I stumble on a gift or a favor that actually matters for her, that’s a bigger victory than the times she tries to guilt me into something or where I feel there’s no choice.”
“I guess that makes sense.” I understood what Calder was saying. There was no obligation between us, and the worst that would happen if he didn’t help was that a few more random dry goods would go out of date, lost in a sea of chaos. And I liked doing things for him as well. I could get the appeal in wanting to do something for me, even if I was having strange guilt over it. “Thank you. I’ll try to be more gracious.”
“You’re plenty gracious. Just let me do this for you.” Calder still had his hand on my arm, and his eyes were softly beseeching. Big, hot guy begging me to let him do home repair. How did I luck into this?
Heart thumping harder, I nodded. “Okay. No more grumbling from me. And having you here is far better than when I brave the store on my own.”
“Good.” Calder pushed the cart farther down the aisle, glancing back over his shoulder and slowing until I caught up. “Let’s pick up lunch on the way back. Get something spicy you can’t do with the kids around.”
“You sure you want me eating something spicy?” I raised an eyebrow. We’d gotten a late start thanks to a good-morning kiss turned four-alarm fire, not that I was complaining about that development one bit.
“Oh, I’m gonna keeping kissing you even if I need a hazmat suit.” He winked at me and the thumping in my chest got louder. The easy way Calder went from pacifying my bad mood back to flirting was something I’d never had with Tim. Calder was so damn fun and refreshing to be around that I was having a hard time reminding myself this was supposed to be super casual.
Friends.
But few friends could make me feel this good. And all I could seem to do was nod. I’d keep kissing him too. As long as he’d let me, and undoubtedly way longer than was smart.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Felix
“All right. So you’ll try the new dosage, and we’ll see you in the office this week for a follow-up to discuss what effect the changes are having.” I tried to wrap up my call with a patient’s spouse, knowing Calder was in my pantry with a drill and feeling guilty I wasn’t more help.
“Thanks, Doctor Sigund. You’re the best. Enjoy what’s left of your Sunday.”
“I will.” I hoped I didn’t sound too eager, but Calder and I had indeed kissed our way through the weekend. Light kisses in the parking lot. Spicy kisses after takeout for lunch. Sneaky kisses in the pantry and my closet as we worked on the organization projects. Long, lazy kisses watching a movie in bed. Brunch kisses. All the kisses until I lost track and I had a closet and pantry worthy of a magazine shoot.
“Okay, my call is done. Sorry for taking so long. What can I help with?” I asked Calder as I returned to the pantry.
“Don’t apologize. Listening to you talk doctor is sexy,” Calder teased, then sobered. “Seriously, man, everyone should have a doctor as caring. You spelled out the medication name three times and you never once sounded put out that you had to stop your weekend to deal with the questions. I’m impressed. Seriously.”
“Thank you.” I rubbed the back of my neck, not used to this kind of praise. “It was a spouse who’s trying to keep their partner home as long as possible. There are hard conversations we’re going to have to have in the coming months, but if I can help push those decisions off a little longer, I’m happy to do it.”