Take a Chance on Me (Baymoor Book 3) by D. A. Young (3)

Chapter Five

 

Annabelle removed the lab coat and draped it over her arm as they headed to the entrance. Behind her, she could feel the searing laser-like intensity of Graham’s eyes boring into her back, and the inferno of heat from his nearness caused a faint sprinkling of perspiration to form between her shoulder blades. Annabelle willed herself to pace her steps and hoped they were even, deliberate, and projecting an air of composure she was nowhere near feeling.

Graham was content to let her take the lead while he enjoyed the alluring view of Annabelle from behind. Her crisp, white short-sleeve blouse was tucked into a knee-length, lightweight blue floral skirt that accentuated the enticing sway of her full hips. She wore bright pink espadrille wedges on her feet, and he liked the way the ribbons wrapped around her slender ankles. It gave him ideas of tying Annabelle to bed posts, leaving her wide open for him to worship her body to his heart’s content.

He waited patiently by the entrance while Annabelle spoke with the staff. She was professional but kind, and Graham could tell they respected her by the way they listened attentively to her, especially the parrot who leaned his head on Annabelle’s shoulder adoringly while she spoke. Lovingly, she stroked his feathers and ran her fingers over his beak before telling him goodbye and stepping into the restroom to wash her hands.

“Bye, Graham!” the staff chorused while the parrot treated him to a suspicious beady-eyed stare then squawked, “Goodbyeee, Dr. Peterson!”

They walked out into the bright afternoon sunshine, and Graham waited until they were away from the open entrance way before speaking. “Peterson?”

Annabelle smiled tightly. “For identity purposes, you understand. I liked my first name more than my last, which wasn’t exactly a hardship to give up.”

Especially not after what her parents had done to her, she thought bitterly.

Graham pointed at a food truck within walking distance surrounded by a large crowd. “I’m hungry and a group of that size is an indication that the food might be halfway decent. Let’s grab something from there and find a spot to talk.”

They headed toward the popular seafood truck where Annabelle ordered a blackened fish taco with pineapple-cucumber slaw while Graham got lobster spring rolls. She tried to pay, but the look he gave her had Annabelle meekly sliding her wallet back into her clutch. He grabbed the brown paper bag that contained their food, and Annabelle grabbed their honey-mint iced green teas. They found an empty bench facing the ocean, and the tantalizing aromas of their food called to them. The duo dug into the delicious food with gusto, eating in surprisingly companionable silence as they people-watched.

Although they weren’t touching or looking at each other, Annabelle was hyper-aware of her lunch companion. Covertly, she watched Graham’s long, tapered fingers handle the translucent rice papered rolls filled with lobster and assorted brightly colored vegetables. He chewed slowly, taking the time to savor his meal, and it made her mouth dry. Sensuously, his tongue flickered over those sexy lips, and Annabelle’s nipples pebbled as she imagined him licking her breasts in like fashion. Or her lips. Or between her legs. Oh, hell, all over her damn body! Just the thought of it caused her sex to pulsate, and she squeezed her thighs tightly together to relieve the building pressure.

There wasn’t a doubt in Anabelle’s mind that Graham knew how to satisfy a woman. He exuded an easy confident swagger in everything that he did that was not just appealing but arousing as well. It was the last thing she should be concerned with but all she could think about. With a sigh, she shoved the last of her taco into her mouth and concentrated on chewing before she did something insanely reckless like knock him over the head and drag him cave-man style into the bushes to have her way with him.

This was bad. Like, really, really, bad. Annabelle didn’t consider herself to be hyper-sexual and hadn’t dated or slept with anyone but Davis. The brutally oppressive years she’d been bound to him had absolutely put her off intimacy of any kind with the opposite sex. Had she been asked out and pursued? Yes, but she had more important things to focus on than allowing another man in and having her emotions and spirit hijacked ever again.

“So, you’re Georgie’s big brother? I can see the resemblance in the eyes.” Except where Georgie’s were pretty, Graham’s were panty-meltingly sexy. Dammit, woman; stay on track! “We lost touch but I always liked her. How is she?”

“Georgie is the best,” Graham confirmed proudly as he stretched his legs out and set his empty food carton in the bag. “Right now, she’s very worried about you, but not just her, all of your friends are.”

Annabelle glanced down at her hands that were clenched tightly around her cup. “And you think it’s your job to bring me home and make them happy? I’m not a puppy in the window. Are you supposed to be some kind of superhero, Mr. Carlton? You fly all over the world getting people what they want in order to make them happy?”

Graham smiled to himself. “I’m no one’s superhero, Annabelle. I’m just a firm believer in justice being served. And again, the name is Graham. How long do you intend to stay here in Furla? You don’t miss your friends and family at all?” Graham quizzed her.

Annabelle stiffened as the pangs of guilt assailed her with her lie. “I do miss them, but I’ve put that part of my life behind me. I wished they’d do the same because I’m never going back. The bad memories far outweigh the good ones. I’m only interested in moving forward and keeping the distance between Davis and me as far as possible.”

“That’s some bullshit if I ever heard it,” Graham scoffed. “In case you haven’t realized it, you’re living a lie because of your past, and today it finally caught up with you. You’re lucky it was me. What if it had been Davis instead? Or one of his family members?”

The thought made her physically ill, and Annabelle had to squelch the urge to vomit. “I’m sorry. Did you miss the part where I handed your ass to you earlier?”

“No, I didn’t,” Graham said seriously. “I’ve no doubt that you could be a badass when needed, but please believe the only reason you got the jump on me was because I was distracted by,” his intense gaze swept over her, “other things.”

And just like that, her imagination was off and running again as her body temperature soared to a level that should have made her combust on the spot. Annabelle’s mouth was parched at the thought of his mouth exploring her body and those big hands full of her ass while she rode him with abandoned passion. The scalding images dampened her panties as her breasts grew achy and heavy for his attention.

She liked the idea as much as he did, Graham mused as he took in Annabelle’s flushed cheeks, parted lips, and dilated eyes. Jesus. The realization made his dick lengthen and lust roll through him. Graham groaned inwardly with sexual frustration as he was once again reminded of how long it’d been since he got any, thanks to her. Seeking relief, Graham subtly shifted his position seeking to discreetly ease the pressure. No such luck. Annabelle’s eyes dropped to his lap and lingered before she ripped her gaze away with a flushed face.

“Get that overactive imagination out of the gutter, Mr. Carlton, because I can assure you anything remotely resembling that scenario ain’t happenin’ between us,” Annabelle shot back as she turned back to him. Why she was shocked by what he was working with, Annabelle wasn’t even sure. He was big everywhere else.

His cocky laugh infuriated her and simultaneously accelerated her heart rate as well. “You sure about that? That’d be a real shame if nothing ever happened because in my mind, you are enjoying yourself immensely, Ms. Gaines. Oh, and you’re wearing your stethoscope and lab coat…but nothing else.”

She didn’t doubt that bold statement for one moment. Annabelle’s plea was a mix between a half-strangled moan and laugh as she beseeched him. “Would you please be serious?! Take your fuckboy level from seven down to zero and let’s attempt to have a normal conversation.”

“Fuckboy is a step up from ‘Mr. Smash and Pass’, so I’ll take it.” Graham shrugged his shoulders unconcernedly. “What makes you think I’m not serious? Did you think I was lying when I called you beautiful? You’re a gorgeous woman who’s built like a fucking brick house. I’d have to be blind, stupid, and crazy as hell not to notice you.” His stare grew heavy-lidded as it roamed over her leisurely, and Annabelle felt it like a physical caress. “I can assure you that I’m not blind, and I’m for damn sure far from stupid, Annabelle.”

They were getting off track, and she was getting too turned on. The sincerity in his voice let Annabelle know he spoke the truth, but again, she couldn’t allow herself to entertain such thoughts, no matter how tempting.

“You should know I’m going to eliminate Fowler once and for all,” Graham spoke quietly, but the weightiness of that statement knocked the wind out of Annabelle. “He and his family have been allowed to prey on decent people for far too long.”

“Why are you doing this?” Annabelle whispered shakily. “Edith said you’re responsible for Brenton and Jessie’s deaths. What made you decide to take the Fowlers’ on? This isn’t your fight, Graham.”

The breathy, husky way she said his name made it hard for Graham not to picture Annabelle in his arms. Instead of telling her the truth, that he’d been obsessed with her since learning of her existence, Graham settled for, “Fuck ‘em. I made a promise to your friends to bring you home, and my word is my bond. I understand that you can’t or won’t do that because of Fowler, but is he the only reason?”

Annabelle’s laugh was a chilling abrasive sound that raised the hair on his arms, her lovely face, marred by bitterness. “Isn’t he enough?” She pointed to her face. “I once had to reset my own nose after he broke it.” Dispassionately, she added “Our last confrontation? Two black eyes, four broken ribs, and a busted eardrum. Oh, and a fractured left arm and sprained right wrist. That motherfucker choked me so hard, I couldn’t speak f-f-f-for a-a-a-”

Annabelle tried to continue, but her voice was trembling so bad that she couldn’t continue. Graham removed the lunch trash between them and scooted closer her. Gently, he pulled her into his arms and onto his lap. Annabelle tried to resist him and struggled to get away, but as his hand stroked her back comfortingly, she collapsed against him with a wildly inhuman sound that Graham understood all too well. It was the sound of anger, hate, pain, frustration and helplessness warring with each other, trying to break free at the same time.

The dam of self-preservation Annabelle built years ago finally burst in a torrent of tears. She clutched at Graham’s neck like it was her lifeline and buried her face in his chest, taking comfort in the strength he offered.

Each tear she shed was forever imbedded in Graham’s soul as they soaked through his linen shirt and into his skin. Gone was the feisty warrior who’d gotten the best of him earlier. In her place was still a strong woman that just needed a moment to rest and put down that shield she fiercely carried. In this way, she reminded Graham of Eliza. For what she’d suffered, his need to exact violence was itching to break through his skin but gradually evaporated as she pushed her warm soft body into his, seeking more comfort. From him. Annabelle was centering him, and it made Graham feel a little vulnerable, realizing just how much he needed it and her.  

“It’s okay, Doc. I got you and will never let you fall. He’ll never hurt you again, Annabelle. I promise.”

Gradually, her cries subsided into hiccups, and she straightened up until they were face to face. Graham smoothed her braids away from her tear-stained face then carefully swiped the tears from her cheeks and chin with his thumb pads, giving the veterinarian beauty an encouraging smile. “Hey, Doc.”

“I’m so sorry about that.” Annabelle tried to get up, but Graham gave a slight shake of his head and tightened his arms around her. Annabelle sensed he needed this moment as much as she did and remained still. She wondered if his bald head felt as smooth as it looked. Annabelle was dying to run her fingers over it to find out. “I know I look a hot ass mess.”

“Quite the opposite actually. You’re breathtaking,” Graham murmured and if the words didn’t convince Annabelle completely, the sincere admiration in his beautiful eyes did as they drifted over her face. “Never apologize for showing your emotions. In these trying times, the world could use a little more humanity, Annabelle.”

No, what the world could use more of were men like him. A man whose strength was in his character, and the path he walked, aiding others along the way who weren’t as strong on this journey called life. His eyes were bottomless wells that ensnared Annabelle. They told a wordless tale of the obstacles he’d endured and persevered in spite of them. His vibes said he had a doozy of a background story that made him the man he unapologetically was today. That both drew her to him and frightened her at the same time.

Looking him square in the eyes, Annabelle spoke, “I’m not scared of him trying to hurt me again, Graham. Davis needs to pay for what he did to me, and I’m not talking about him rotting in a jail cell. I want him to die. He needs to before he hurts anyone else.”

“The variables are endless on where Davis could be. I’m working on it, but the bastard’s good at being a coward.” Graham hated himself for having to say the next part. “One thing I’d stake money on? If Fowler knew where you were, he would be stupid enough to try—”

 “You want to use me as bait,” Annabelle bluntly interrupted him. Of course, that was why he was here. She shoved against his chest and was disappointed when he readily released her. She stood up and gathered the trash, immediately missing his warmth. “That’s your main objective, right? Because you know he’ll try to come for me. You want me to leave my life here, where no one is privy to Annabelle Gaines and take a chance. On you. And what if you fail? Where does that leave me?”

“Failure isn’t an option for me,” Graham assured her coolly. Looking into his confident steady gaze, Annabelle believed him and was almost swayed. Almost.

“And it isn’t one for me either, Mr. Carlton.” Annabelle was equally cool. “We both know he would never stop pursuing me if you failed. It was nice meeting you, but I’m sorry I can’t help you. I. Need. Better. Odds. Goodbye.”

Annabelle walked away from him without looking back even though a part of her really wanted to. She really should have because if she did, Annabelle would have seen the determination and cunningness that Graham was known for and ran like hell.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Six

 

Annabelle was just filling the white ceramic pasta bowl with her famous (in her opinion) citrus grilled prawns and zoodles when the doorbell rang. She grabbed a dishtowel and wiped her hands before gathering her neighbor Sam’s mail from the kitchen table. He’d been gone for two weeks, running marathons in Perth and asked if Annabelle wouldn’t mind picking it up. Sam had called earlier to say that he’d be stopping by to retrieve it. The doorbell rang again, and she rolled her eyes in response. “I’m coming, Sam! Slow your roll!”

She walked down the hallway of her bungalow beach house and opened the front door. Annabelle was stunned to see that it wasn’t Sam standing on her porch with a livid expression but Graham Carlton. “What are you doing here? How did you find me?”

“That’s not important. A better question would be, who the hell is Sam?” Graham demanded, not caring for the playfulness in her voice for whoever the fuck Sam was. Annabelle’s eyebrows peaked at his tone, which Graham made no apologies for. He’d been around his friends and their women long enough to diagnose his issue with her. He was jealous and that pissed him off royally. Graham didn’t do jealousy, chasing after a woman or commitment, but this woman right here contradicted those beliefs, and it was driving him fucking crazy the way she had him so off his fucking game.

Before Annabelle could answer, the door was pushed out of her hands and opened wider, and Graham found himself staring down at an adorable miniature version of Annabelle except with a lighter complexion and two afro puffs. Big, dark inquisitive eyes under furrowed brows met his as she tilted her head and chirped in a light Australian accent, “Who are you?”

Annabelle bent to pick her up and soundly kissed her plump cheek, earning her a delicious giggle from the toddler who enchanted Graham. “Sorry if the doorbell woke you, baby. This is Mr. Carlton. He’s a friend of your Gigi’s.” To Graham, she spoke tersely, “Not that it’s any of your concern but this is my daughter, Aurora.”

She wrapped both arms around Annabelle’s neck and buried her face against it. Shyly, she peeked up at him with a toothy grin, revealing pearly white teeth. “Hi.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Aurora,” Graham said with a solemn smile, even though he was reeling on the inside. This was the second time today that Annabelle managed to get the jump on him, and the hits just kept coming when another set of footsteps accompanied by jingling echoed in the house before Edith Fowler appeared.

“Graham, darling! You made it!” She hip-bumped a ferociously scowling Annabelle out of the way to grab his hand. “It’s so good to see you. You’re just in time for dinner. Well don’t just stand there. Come in! We have so much to talk about!”

***

After Edith dragged him into the house and sat him down at the kitchen table with a cold glass of peach lemonade, Annabelle retreated upstairs to give her daughter a bath.

“I’m surprised to see you here, ma’am. You coulda given me a heads up,” Graham admonished the older woman with fond exasperation.

“But where would the fun be in that?” Edith chortled merrily. “Do you not recall our last conversation?”

“Aren’t you going to ask me where I’m going?”

Graham lifted her hand and kissed it briefly. “Only if you give the answer I told you to use.”

“Oh…pffft!” she waved her hand at him with embarrassment. “Go on then, boy!”

“Where are you going, Ms. Edith?” Graham challenged her.

Edith took a deep breath and regally tilted her head at him and sucked her teeth. “Don’t worry about where the hell I’m goin’! This my goddamn life, and I’ll live it the way I see fit and without answerin’ to anyone! You don’t like it; you can kiss my ass!”

Graham gave her a two-finger salute and grinned. “Yes, ma’am. Take care.”

“Indeed, I do. You’re lookin’ good, Ms. Edith. I barely recognized you. That’s a true testament that your new life agrees with you.” Graham raised his glass to her.

It was the understatement of the year. The woman before him looked nothing like the woman he’d first encountered in Baymoor’s library. That cold, immaculately dressed, and perfectly coiffed woman was dead. Edith had buried her right along with Brenton and rightfully so. Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, she’d been reincarnated and Graham approved wholly of her new look. Edith had exchanged her elegant pageboy hairstyle for a tapered afro that she no longer dyed. Her faded denim cutoffs showed long legs and delicate anklets and a toe ring, and her red t-shirt read ‘Boss Babe’. She now wore a tiny diamond stud nose ring and her makeup free skin glowed with happiness and contentment.

“Thank you, baby! Doesn’t it, though?” Edith preened as she raised her glass and clinked it with his. “Well, let’s hear it! What took you so long to get here? I expected you to be hot on my heels.”

Graham rubbed his goatee and assessed her with a shrewd gaze. “The inn had its grand opening. Otherwise, I would have been, but I suspect you know that. You wanted to see my reaction to her, didn’t you?”

“Gold star for Graham! Yes, I did,” Edith admitted with a warm smile as she spoke in a conspiratorial whisper. “It’s also the reason I didn’t mention to her that you were coming. I wanted to see if my theory proved correct and it did. You like my Annabelle! I see that look in your eyes when you watch her. It’s the same one you had before meeting her, and that’s a good thing.” Edith tapped his hand for emphasis, her face beaming with approval. “It means she exceeded all of your expectations. Now, what are you going to do about it, son?”

That was a good question. Except Graham didn’t see Annabelle as the woman he wanted between his sheets anymore. She was much more than that. Annabelle was also the mother of a lovely little girl, and a respected career woman who had a good life here in Furla. What kind of man would he be to ask her to abandon her family and life to help him catch a psychopath? Annabelle had been right in refusing him. Keeping her and babygirl safe was now his number one priority. Graham would have to find another way to lure Fowler out of hiding.

“I’m going to finish what I started on my own.” Graham ignored the disappointment in Edith’s eyes. “Did you know about your granddaughter?”

Edith’s eyes softened with love. “From the beginning. I used the time I volunteered at the library not just to read to the children but to take advantage of their computers as well. Rory, as we call her, gave me the strength to keep going and serve as a reminder that all we endured was worth it. Neither Annabelle nor I want her to ever go through what we did. We were actively planning my escape when you reached out to me.”

“Ma’am, you don’t ever have to sugarcoat shit with me. Speak your mind freely,” Graham encouraged her. After the way her spirit was crushed out of her, Graham never wanted Edith to forget she had a voice and to use it. 

“Alright then. You and I have formed an unlikely alliance, but I’ve no doubt it was the right choice. I know you must think I’m a terrible mother for turning my back on my son, but if I thought there was an ounce of good in him, I wouldn’t have made the decision that I did,” Edith confessed with a slow exhale as tears appeared in her eyes. Quickly, she brushed them away. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to change my mind, Graham. I just want you to know it’s a choice I still struggle with, but Rory and Annabelle’s safety and happiness are my top priority now. They don’t have anyone but me. I told you what her parents did to her so I doubt she’ll ever reach out to them. My girls are my second chance to get it right.”

 “Trust me, Edith. When I think of a shitty mother, your image isn’t the one that comes to mind,” Graham informed her grimly and Edith gave him a sad smile.

“I just want to go back to Baymoor and live out the rest of my life peacefully. I want my granddaughter to know the town that her mother and I love so much and make new memories with them. Maybe Rory will meet a nice boy and fall in love—”

“But way down the line, like when she’s like eighty, right?” Graham brusquely interrupted her with a disapproving frown, his protective instincts already rising to the surface. The thought of some little boy chasing after Rory the way his friend Darby’s son, D.J., chased after Graham’s precious niece, Camille, irked the shit out of him. Dude smothered his niece like biscuits in gravy with that damned Sullivan charm. “Right now, she’s just a baby. There’s plenty of time for that sort of thing.”

Edith’s knowing look said he wasn’t fooling anyone. “Like, ‘never’ in your mind. Something tells me you’ll be around to make sure everything goes according to your plan. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, my dear. I just want your promise that you won’t hurt either of them.”

Graham was going to reply, but Rory’s squeal of excitement interrupted him when she entered the kitchen, freshly bathed in Annabelle’s arms. She wore pink pajamas with glittering gold stars all over them, a white feather boa, and a small gold tiara nestled in her curls...and silver glitter. Lots of it. All over her face. But it didn’t sparkle more than that sweet smile of hers. “Hey, Ram, you’re still here!”

“Sorry, we’re late! Rory wanted to look nice for dinner with you, Mr. Ram.” Annabelle’s white blouse had water stains, revealing hints of the lace of her white bra underneath; her skirt was twisted haphazardly and wrinkled. The bun thingy had come down and her braids were now in a lopsided ponytail. The same glitter that covered Rory was faintly sprinkled across her nose. Even though Annabelle wore a tired expression, her eyes shone with happiness and amusement from the wiggling bundle trying to get free.

Motherhood had never looked so damn good nor appealed as much to Graham as it did in this instance. Annabelle was breathtaking. He could now see another less x-rated motive for her figure. Those lush breasts had most likely nurtured Rory, and those sexy full grip-able hips were designed for child-bearing and not just for his personal consumption. They were also convenient for her daughter to sit on. Easily, Graham could picture her belly swollen with their child. He felt an unfamiliar and uncomfortable stirring in his chest as his heart ballooned to make room for not just Annabelle but the mischievous angel in her arms. Hell, it was time to stop playing himself. Graham planned to be around to run Rory’s admirers off.

And no, Annabelle wouldn’t have a damn say in his decision.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Seven

 

“Look, Mr. Ram! See ‘mato?” Rory quizzed Graham as she picked a plump red grape tomato from her pasta and held it up for Graham, who was sitting next to her to inspect. Quickly, she popped it into her mouth and chewed it with gusto as she clapped her hands in approval. “I eated it! Nom, nom, nom.”

Graham fist-bumped with her. “I see you, babygirl. Now, how about the zoodles?”

Rory pursed her lips with distaste and shook her head adamantly. “Zoozles are yucky! Noooo! Zoozles are bad. Mummy!”

“The zoodles are a bone of contention between Rory and Annabelle,” Edith explained with a twinkle in her eye while Annabelle muttered under breath. “She knows they’re really vegetables and not pasta noodles.”

“Should I take a guess who’s winning this battle?” Graham teased Annabelle. In turn, she gave him a woeful look.

“Nope; it’s too embarrassing to admit. Let’s just say that I’ve acquired the necessary skills to become a hostage negotiator,” she informed him dryly before addressing an obstinate Rory. “Come on, lovey. Eat your dinner or no dessert.”

“Yucky zoozles, Mummy!” Rory pushed her plate away. “Disgusting!”

Annabelle pinned her daughter with a stern look that gave her child pause because she knew Mummy was about to get real, really quick. “Young lady—”

“May I?” Graham interrupted her quietly, seeking her approval to deal with Rory. Annabelle exchanged a quick glance with Edith who smiled encouragingly.

“Go for it,” Annabelle replied cautiously. Rory was her heart and such a joy to be around, but when it came to making a point and getting her way, this child of hers could be a handful and extremely willful.

“Zoodles are yucky? Are you sure about that, babygirl?” Rory appeared to contemplate Graham’s question before giving her answer— a vigorous head nod that made her tiara wobble.

“Yesss! Yucky!” Rory wrinkled her nose for emphasis. The kid was too freaking adorable for words. She was happy, carefree, and obviously adored by her mother and Gigi. Graham could see that she was the superstar in their world.

He used his fork to twirl the zoodles onto it and speared a succulent prawn. Graham held his fork out for Rory to see before slipping it into his mouth. It was damn good. The prawns were fresh, and Graham could taste the garlic, parmesan, and lemon Annabelle had used. The sweet tang of the tomatoes was the perfect contrast to the heat of the chili flakes and citrus.

“You’re wrong, babygirl. This isn’t yucky at all. It’s yummy!” To prove his point, Graham ate a forkful from her plate while she eyed him suspiciously. He noticed hers was missing the chili flakes and that Annabelle had used parmesan only. He winked at Annabelle, who gave him a grateful smile in return. “Mummy really put her foot in it!”

He was aware of Annabelle watching his every move with Rory in a protective manner. His being here in her sanctuary was making her edgy. She didn’t like that he knew something about her that no one in Baymoor was aware of. He now knew her weakness and the main reason she stayed away. Graham also noticed that she was the only one at the table with a cutting knife between her and Edith and that she sat directly across from him. There was also nothing between them except their dinner plates. The bowl of pasta, pitcher of peach-lemonade, and bowl of sliced French bread were shifted to the side, making the table look off-balance. The path gave Annabelle easier access to him. Graham knew that she wouldn’t hesitate to go for his throat if she felt like he was a threat.

“Ewwww! Silly, Mr. Ram!” Rory grabbed her tummy and giggled uncontrollably. “Feet don’t go in your food! Gross!”

Her laughter was contagious, but Graham managed to suppress his as he made a big production of going in for a third bite, but Rory grabbed his hand. “No, my turn, Mr. Ram! You watch me eat!”

“Are you sure, babygirl?” he asked with a doubtful expression. “I thought you said it was yucky?”

“Nooo!” Rory pouted. “I eat now and you watch me!”

Graham observed with amusement as the little girl made a big production of sitting up straight in her chair and twirling the noodles onto her fork. Carefully, she speared a prawn and brought the food to her lips. Rory took a dramatic deep breath and closed her eyes as she shoved the food into her mouth and slowly chewed. Her eyes popped open. “Mmmm! Ish good!”

“Told ya, kid.” He let his fork hover over her plate. “Do you think you can finish the rest of your food? If not, I’m gonna have to eat yours and mine…”

“Mr. Ram, that’s my food!” Rory pulled her plate closer to her protectively, eyes sparkling with indignation at her new friend’s ridiculous idea. Her mulish expression was priceless. “Eat your own!”

She grabbed her fork and promptly went to work finishing her dinner. The adults followed her cue and conversation continued between Edith and Graham. Annabelle was still recovering from the fact that he was in her house and looked right at home, sitting next to her child and conversing with the woman who was more of a mother to her than her own had been. Rory was absolutely taken with Graham and the feeling was apparently mutual. Annabelle suspected it was because having a man around was a novelty and something her mother didn’t allow unless it was a neighborhood get-together or birthday party.

It was heartwarming to see Graham interacting with Rory so effortlessly. The way he leaned in attentively and paid close attention to her daughter’s incessant chatter as if what she was saying was the most important thing in his world was priceless. Annabelle was amazed that as big as he was, she didn’t view Graham as threatening and imposing, but rather as a protector as he towered over Rory’s tiny frame. Rory’s giggles escalated, and Annabelle wished she had a camera to capture her child’s happy upturned face as Graham smiled down at her, just as captivated.

So, he was not just a good-looking charmer who had way with women. He had skills with kids too. Dammit! She really didn’t want to like him. Or think about how good he looked sitting next to her daughter, having the time of his life as if it were perfectly natural and he’d been there from the jump. Annabelle’s instincts told her that Graham was a good person. They also told her he was a player. Whoever reformed him would be putting in that hot werk with him between the sheets. Well, it wouldn’t be Annabelle. No man was worth the aches of the head, body, and heart, no matter how fine he was.

Again, that uncomfortable feeling of resentment washed over her. Who the hell did Graham think he was? Sittin’ up here tryin’ to turn her out with his looks, getting along with her family and charming them, all while lookin’ like a damn snack?! He threw his head back and laughed at something Rory said, exposing the strong column of his throat, his eyes crinkling sexily and those perfect white teeth a stunning contrast against his beautiful brown skin. His lips were all full and kissable. Bitable even and that damned perfectly lined goatee framed them just right. Annabelle forced herself to look away and grab her drink, thirstily chugging it down and hopelessly trying to quench a heat that had nothing to do with the chili flakes. Her eyes caught Edith’s, and she scowled at her friend’s know-it-all look, rolling her eyes when the older woman mouthed, ‘Told you so’.

Annabelle stuck her tongue out at her as she stood up and took her dishes to the sink. Needing some fresh air, she opened the shutters over the sink and absorbed the tranquil view of the beach, Graham’s words from this afternoon weighing on her mind.

Rory’s biological father could never know how wonderful she was and because of that Annabelle would never go back to Baymoor. She couldn’t take the chance of Davis finding out that she’d been pregnant. He wouldn’t stop until he took Rory from her. Like hell that would ever happen. Davis tried his damnedest to break her, but God had chosen to bless and build Annabelle back up with the gift of her daughter.

She’d known him her entire life, and in the small town of Baymoor, such an occurrence wasn’t unusual. A year older than her and of a higher economic stature, Davis had barely paid attention to the chubby girl who had a crush on him from afar. The affluent Fowlers only flocked with those of their stature and position, and a girl whose family ran the struggling Gas ‘N’ Go convenient store was not for the handsome Fowler heir.

He used to come to the store, and when Annabelle wasn’t working at the animal hospital, she’d assist her parents there. She’d filled Davis’s gas for him while he and his friends laughed, listened to music, and waited for her to finish cleaning the windows of his Mustang. Davis had never given her more than a cursory look. Everything changed when they both signed up to do Baymoor High’s production of “A Midsummer Night’s Dream”.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Eight

 

Past

 

“Girl, I can’t believe you’re not trippin’ about playing the role of Titania to Davis’s Oberon!” Annabelle’s best friend Kenya teased her as they walked through the hallway on their way to Chemistry. “You know you stay crushin’ on him!”

“Quit playing, Kenny!” Annabelle shushed her as she looked around nervously, hoping no one had heard her loud-mouthed friend. “You know it’s not even like that.”

“The hell it ain’t!” Kenya’s neck rolled so hard, Annabelle wondered how she didn’t get whiplash. “If it ain’t like that, then why are we always at that fool’s games when you’re not at the animal hospital or working at your parent’s spot?”

“Dang, heffa! Excuse me for wanting to show a little school spirit!” Annabelle huffed, pissed that her friend was calling her out and in public no less. “You know I have to save up for college. In my spare time, I just want to hang out where everyone else is chillin’!”

“Uh-huh, say what you want, but in my opinion, he ain’t all that. He’s so stuck-up. I don’t even know what you see in him.” Kenya whipped out her yellow tube of bronze Cover Girl lip gloss and slicked it over her lips before sliding it back into her purse. “Then again, you don’t exactly go out of your way to look attractive, you know. Don’t get me started on how you’re always hanging out with the animals and kind of smell like them.”

Watching her friend, Annabelle felt a pang of envy. They were like apples and oranges. Where she was on the short side with a full curvy body, Kenya looked like she just stepped out of the pages of YM. She was slender, sophisticated and had a flair for clothes. She knew all the latest beauty trends, was outspoken with great confidence, and stayed in the beauty shop. Annabelle would rather die than put on makeup and lived in sports jerseys and sweats and her hair in a tight bun on top of her head. They were an odd combination but had been best friends since kindergarten. There wasn’t anything they wouldn’t do for each other.

“Then it’s a good thing it’s not up to you, smart-ass.” Annabelle snapped. “Obviously, he’s not interested in me. Why would he be when girls like Vivica are chasing after him? I’m not trying to be like all the other girls running up on him! Now, can you please do yourself a favor and shut up?”

Without waiting for Kenya’s response, she rushed ahead of her to class.

Later that evening, in the privacy of her bedroom, Annabelle studied her reflection in her vanity mirror. Normally, she didn’t care what others thought of her, but Kenya’s remark about her appearance had stung more than Annabelle cared to admit. As she tried different angles in the mirror, Annabelle concluded that Kenya was a crackhead. She liked the way she looked. Her smooth, dark chocolate complexion was exactly like her mother Samantha’s and Auntie Cee’s. Annabelle loved that she had that in common with the ladies she considered her role models.

She kept her skin makeup-free, only using Palmer’s cocoa butter and sunscreen, and it was smooth and unblemished. IF she had to change something about herself, perhaps maybe she’d get her thick eyebrows trimmed? Currently, they looked like two pregnant caterpillars sunning on her face. Annabelle pulled her night cap off and unbraided her thick plait. The waves that fell around her face were pretty, but Annabelle wasn’t about trying to upkeep a high-maintenance style like that.

It was impractical when working with the animals at the hospital and not practical to do at all if it was only to get a boy’s attention and not just for herself. Happy with her decision, Annabelle rebraided her hair and slipped her wrap back on. If Davis didn’t like her the way she looked, then who cared? She had a 4.0 grade point average and was focused on keeping it. College and veterinary school were going to be expensive, and her parents were already struggling financially. Making ends meet was becoming challenging with the arrival of a fancy new convenience store with a car wash in town five months ago.

Every cent she earned at the hospital was going to be snatched right out of her hands to pay for expenses that scholarships wouldn’t cover. Annabelle decided to put her romantic notions of Davis behind her and focus on her future.

***

She was very successful in her endeavor until two months later. It was the night of the play, and everyone was scrambling around to take their places. Annabelle stood next to Davis as they waited in the wings for their part. She smiled at him in greeting, and he took more than his normal perfunctory moment to examine her. Kenya had insisted on styling her hair in big fluffy curls and applied a heavy coat of makeup that felt like cement on Annabelle’s face. She had no idea why girls wanted to experience this garbage on a daily basis.

“You look nice.”

Annabelle was too busy focusing on Mr. Banker, the theater director who was yelling for dimmer lighting, to hear Davis compliment her. “I should probably go and help Chelsea find the lights before Mr. Banker has a heart attack.”

“It’s Andrea, right?” His comment drew her attention back to him. Davis gave her an arrogant smile that meant she was supposed to be bowled over by him.

She stared him down as if he’d grown three heads while her ego took the blow. Was this the best her crush could do? Sarcastically, she replied, “Yeah, sure my name is Andrea. Whatever, man.”

“The hell is your problem?” Davis demanded as he looked down his nose at her, annoyance in his hazel eyes.

“I’m not the one with the problem!” Annabelle snapped back, bristling with anger. “My name ain’t no damn Andrea! It’s Annabelle! How could you not know that? We’ve only lived in the same town and gone to the same schools together our entire lives! Let’s not forget we’ve been practicing for this play for a month and a half in close proximity. Except when you’ve been goofing off with your homies. But whatever, dude, it is what it is. Rather than stand around and plug your clueless ass in, I’m going to see if Mr. Banker needs any help.”

Annabelle left him staring after her. What an ass! He would never change.

***

He’d forgotten his line. Annabelle could see the panic, followed by frustration and anger in Davis’s face as he struggled to recall the lines, his mouth moving wordlessly. Up until this point, the play was going smoothly, and the audience was enjoying the lively cast of characters’ antics. This was Annabelle and Davis’s last scene together, and he was out of words. Her eyes drifted from him to the other characters waiting for him then out to the audience as they, too, waited expectantly. They met his father’s, Brenton Fowler, and the disappointment and embarrassment in his face were blatantly evident.

Annabelle wasn’t sure why she chose to help him, but just because he was a self-absorbed jerk didn’t mean that the entire cast deserved to suffer from bad reviews. She threw herself at him, improvising a fit of passion, and Davis instinctively caught her. Annabelle wrapped her arms around his neck, and he tightened his hold around her face as she whispered, “You can thank me later for saving your ass!”

Annabelle whispered the words in his ear, and Davis belted them out in a strong clear voice.

Through the house give gathering light,
By the dead and drowsy fire:
Every elf and fairy sprite
Hop as light as bird from brier;
And this ditty, after me,
Sing, and dance it trippingly.

Annabelle spun out of his arms with a little improvised dance before reciting her own lines:

First, rehearse your song by rote
To each word a warbling note:
Hand in hand, with fairy grace,
Will we sing, and bless this place.

When the play was over, and the students had changed back into their own clothes, Annabelle was approached by Davis and his parents. Brenton was grinning ear to ear while Edith appeared carved from ice. Brenton left his family to wrap Annabelle in a bear hug. “You were magnificent, my dear! Edith, wasn’t she something?”

Although a doctor in his own practice, Brenton oversaw the board for the animal hospital that his veterinarian father had run before his passing. He could often be found floating between his private practice and the animal hospital, doing procedures that the veterinarians looked the other way on because of the Fowler money.

“Congratulations on a job well done,” Edith smile was robotic and held no warmth or sincerity.

“We saw the way you came to Davis’s rescue, young lady. You’re a quick thinker, and this hasn’t been the first time it’s been brought to my attention either! The veterinarians have nothing but great things to say about you and how well you handle the animals in any situation. No weak stomach at all.” Brenton smiled proudly but as he turned to his son, his tone was considerably cooler. “What do you think, Davis? She’s beautiful, gracious, and a quick thinker. Any decent young man would be happy to call her his girlfriend, wouldn’t you agree?”

Davis’s bronze complexion flushed and his hazel eyes held resentment as he looked at Annabelle and muttered, “If you say so, sir.”

“I do, son,” Brenton said congenially to his son, giving Annabelle his back to address him. She was unsure of what transpired, but whatever it was caused Davis to wither under his stare. Brenton turned back to Annabelle and bowed gracefully. “We won’t take up any more of your time, Annabelle. Go and celebrate with your friends! Congratulations, again.”

“Thank you,” Annabelle waved and headed toward Kenya, Chelsea, Georgie, and her older cousin Inez, who were waving impatiently at her. Standing behind them were her parents, wearing proud smiles and holding a balloon arrangement and a small bouquet of daisies. Annabelle hadn’t seen them earlier in the audience and knew it was because of the long hours they’d worked at the store. She appreciated that they’d made the effort to come and support her.

“Annabelle!” She swung back around with a questioning look at Mr. Fowler’s authoritative call. “If you’re not busy this weekend, we’d love to have you over for lunch on Sunday after church?”

Lunch at the Fowler estate? Neither Annabelle nor her friends had ever seen the inside of the mansion and often speculated on what it might look like. Finally, the opportunity had presented itself. “I’d like that very much; thank you, sir.”

***

The next day was Saturday. Annabelle was lazing around in bed, watching basketball when the doorbell rang. Five minutes later, her bedroom door burst open. Samantha, Annabelle’s mom, gave a dozen white roses from The Enchanted Garden, Baymoor’s florist shop, to Annabelle. Heart beating furiously, she accepted the bouquet from her mother and tore open the little white envelope that accompanied the bouquet and read the card.

Annabelle,

Thanks for saving my ass last night. Would you please do me the honor of being my date to the prom?

Davis

The blood was roaring in her ears, and Annabelle felt lightheaded and too excited to speak, so her mother took the card from her hand and read it aloud. While Samantha jumped around in excitement, Annabelle was still in shock. How long had she waited for something like this to happen? Then, when she suddenly stopped caring…voila! Annabelle was going to get what she’d pined forever and a day for. Doors were finally opening for her.

In the years to come, Annabelle would curse herself repeatedly for not recognizing the situation for what it was and getting as far away as she could from any man with the last name Fowler, a group of men handcrafted by the devil himself.

***

The dishes were plucked out of her hand by Graham who’d joined her at the sink. “What’s on your mind, Doc? You looked a million miles away.”

Annabelle gave a faint smile while trying not to breathe in his scent as she lied. “Nothing. Just thinking about a patient that I have to deal with tomorrow.” She raised an eyebrow and held her hand out for the plates. “What are you doing with those dishes?”

Graham’s perceptive eyes called her a liar as he turned on the faucet and adjusted the temperature. “I’m going to wash them. I figured it’s only fair since I was an uninvited houseguest and you fed me. Dinner was delicious, by the way.”

“Graham, darling, how could you be an uninvited houseguest?” Edith called from the table and Annabelle braced herself. “I thought you were here to take Annabelle up on her invitation to stay with us for the duration of your visit? Annabelle, dear, didn’t you—”

“Yeah, hadn’t quite gotten there yet, Edith!” Annabelle growled over her shoulder through gritted teeth, annoyed that she’d been busted. Under her breath, she hissed, “When is that hearing going to go?! I thought with old age, it would be the first—”

“I can hear youuuu!” Edith sang making Rory giggle.

“You were supposed toooo!” Hands on her hips, Annabelle swung around to face her with an aggrieved expression as Rory’s head swung back and forth between the two women like a pendulum.

“I would love for him to stay and get to know you and Mummy better,” Edith spoke with heartfelt sincerity. Her grin challenged Annabelle to say no as her granddaughter scrambled out of her chair and ran to wrap her arms around her mother’s legs. “Nothing would make your Gigi happier.”

“Mummy ask him to stay! Mr. Ram is my friend! I want him to stay here! Pleeease, Mummy! He can be your friend too!” Rori pleaded, jumping up and down for good measure.

Out of the mouth of the babes…

“I’d definitely like to be your mama’s friend, Rory,” Graham teased out of the corner of his mouth for Annabelle’s hearing only, his voice laden with sexual innuendo. It earned him a withering glare that should have made his balls shrivel up.

“Baby, I’m sure Mr. Graham likes it better at his hotel,” Annabelle began, but Rory and her treacherous grandmother overrode her.

“Let Mr. Ram stay! Let Mr. Ram stay!” they repeatedly chanted.

There was no way in hell he could stay under the same roof as her. Graham “Eye Fucking Candy” Carlton was a major distraction Annabelle didn’t need or want. She was still trying to recover from her earlier bout of vulnerability with him this afternoon. Everything was copacetic when she thought she’d never have to see him again. But he was here, invading her space, and Annabelle could barely resist the urge to smack that self-satisfied look off his face. His blatantly obvious enjoyment of her being put on the spot was like a rash on her eyes.

Arms crossed, Graham leaned back against the sink and patiently waited. Annabelle’s eyes were drawn to the black, intricately drawn tats on his muscular arms as he slowly rubbed his jaw contemplatively with a lazy smile on his handsome face that had her heart beating double-time. “I’m all ears on this invite, Doc, so make it good for me.”

“YES OR NO?!” Annabelle barked at him.

“Who can resist such sweet talk like that? Weeell…since you insist,” Graham replied easily, savoring the way her nostrils flared and her mouth flatlined with his answer. Those espresso brown eyes burned with promised vengeance and a smiting if he continued to tease her. If he were a lesser man, Graham would be nervous and quit while he was ahead. Too bad for Annabelle he wasn’t.

“Yaaay! Mr. Ram is gonna stay!” To celebrate, Rory started twirling around the kitchen and doing a little happy dance. She grabbed her Gigi’s hand and pulled her out of her seat to join in.

“You are sooo going to pay for this,” Annabelle snarled at Graham as she watched the backstabbing duo dance around the kitchen table. “The things I’m going to do to you—”

“Go on, I’m listening,” Graham interrupted with relish, his sexy eyes sparkling with interest. He was loving the way steam billowed out of the gorgeous vet’s ears as she came to the realization that she was clearly outnumbered. “Why don’t we compare your list to mine and see just how much dirty minds think alike?”

“Just stay out of my way!” Nose in the air, Annabelle pushed past him, ignoring an amused Edith as well, to scoop up a protesting Rory for her nightly bedtime routine.

“I know you’re mad, dear, but it’s just a moment,” Edith called out to her encouragingly. “One moment of anger but it will soon pass!”

“Yeah, like kidney stones!” Annabelle griped as Rory snuggled into her arms and gazed up at her adoringly, clearly her mother’s best friend again now that she’d gotten her way. Annabelle nuzzled her plump cheek affectionately and rained kisses all over her sweet, smiling face. “You little brat! What is Mummy going to do with you?” 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Nine

 

“If you’re ready, Mr. Carlton, I’ll show you to your room now,” Annabelle spoke stiffly to Graham’s back as he studied the black framed family pictures in the foyer.

Edith had just retired after informing Annabelle with an amused smile that Graham was waiting downstairs to be shown to the casita.

“When you’re ready to stop hiding, our guest is ready to turn in. Goodnight, my dear.” Edith’s eyes twinkled with merrily as she left a facial cream slathered Annabelle in pajamas glaring after her.

He was going to laugh. Annabelle saw it in his eyes and the twitching corners of his lips. Edith probably expected her to doll herself up for her precious Graham, but Annabelle’s days of pleasing any man were over. So, here she was, sparkling rhinestone sleep mask on her head, face mask still intact, wearing unicorn PJs, impatiently waiting to get this show on the road. If Casanova didn’t like it, the door was right behind him.

But Graham didn’t laugh; instead, he complimented her. “You have a nice home, Doc. Thank you for opening it up to me.”

A sense of pride filled Annabelle. After living with Davis and his preference of dark colors and traditional design, Annabelle decided her home would be the opposite. The beach house was a modern contemporary style, open and airy with large bay windows in every room to allow light in, and the walls were painted stark white to enhance the pops of jade, cobalt, ruby, and purple abstract artwork and black and white throw rugs on the mahogany-stained hardwood floors throughout the house

“Mmm, well it’s not like I had a choice, is it?” Annabelle replied tartly. “If you’ll just follow me.”

Armed with a large woven handbasket filled with toiletries, towels, and washcloths for him, they walked through the now quiet beach house. It was amazing how one little girl could bring everything around her to life. When Rory was awake, the house had the energy of a full-blown party. It was full of laughter, her chatter, and scattered with toys.

She bent down to pick up a Tonka truck, My Little Pony accessories, and a couple of picture books on the carpet by the living room entrance. Annabelle dropped them in a seagrass basket near the wall. She’d quickly learned that instead of gathering all the toys at the end of the day and dragging them back to one spot, it was just easier to situate baskets throughout the house for Rory to pillage through.

They exited the house through the kitchen door and into the contemporary designed garden. Grass was divided by stone pathways that were lined with square modern planters filled with ferns and tall rectangle planters with jade succulents and hoya ropes. A wooden pergola was off to left side and held an outdoor dining set with chairs, and a child’s jungle gym, covered by a shade was close to it. The casita was toward the back wall.

“Tell me about, Rory. What does she—”

Annabelle whirled around at Graham’s low persuasive tone, claws drawn, hackles raised, and protective instincts rising to the surface at his request. “Let’s be very clear about something…just because you get to stay doesn’t mean my life is an open book for you to read and dump on. My kid is not an experiment for you to examine and make judgments. Do you understand? She’s off limits!”

Eyebrows raised, Graham pondered, “Is that what you think I’m doing? Passing judgment? Your daughter is incredible, but I’m sure you know that like I know you just want to keep her safe and away from her father.”

“She doesn’t have a father!” Annabelle hissed. “She has me and I am more than enough for her! Davis would have done nothing but try to smother her spirit and when he was done, find someone exactly like him for her to breed with!”

Slow down, take a deep breath. Stay focused.

Annabelle spun back around and stomped ahead of him. “There was no way I was going to give her that life! My God, what if she’d been a boy instead?! She is my child, and I will protect her until the day I die. That’s all you need to know about Rory, Mr. Carlton.”

And that was enough. At least for now, Graham thought. He loved watching mother and child together. Annabelle was kind, caring, and patient with Rory. She also had steady hands. Ingrid’s volatile temperament came with swift hands that reacted to everything her children did that displeased her. Slaps, pinches, and twists were administered on a regular basis, accompanied by a barrage of verbal abuse. He knew Annabelle could be firm when the situation warranted, but she loved and encouraged her precocious daughter to be who Rory was supposed to be, a child secure in her environment.

“While it warms my heart to know that you love your child fiercely, Annabelle, I actually wanted to know what her likes and dislikes are for breakfast. Edith gave me permission to cook, and it’s the least I could do while enjoying your hospitality.”

Even if she couldn’t see his amusement in the dark, it rippled in his deep baritone. “Jerk! You could have stopped me at any time. She likes anything with blueberries and apples. Especially with pancakes.”

“I think you should consider cutting sugar out of your diet. You’re waaay too high-strung to be in charge of caring for lives.” Graham took the basket from her hands, along with the keys and opened the door to the casita. “Calm your nerves and stop being so defensive about everything. I’m the last person to judge you, Doc.”

“Sorry,” Annabelle grimaced and gasped as the mask tightened. “Crap! I forgot that I had this mask on.”

“Use the bathroom inside.” Graham watched as she turned on a lamp then entered the bathroom. Unicorns. He didn’t really know shit about them except he was jealous of the ones covering Annabelle’s luscious ass. Normally, the women he spent time with didn’t bother wearing anything to bed and would rather die than be seen in a green mask that looked like vomit exploded on their face. The feisty, smart-ass veterinarian didn’t give two fucks what Graham thought about her and wasn’t about to sweet talk him into falling in love with her. It was a refreshing change, and Graham was here for all of it.

The water in the bathroom shut off, and Annabelle reappeared with a clean radiant face. “All done! What do you think about the casita? Will it do?”

The large room was tastefully decorated in earth tones and featured a king-sized bed, sitting area, and bathroom. Graham sat down on the bed and tested the firmness. “I think this works.”

The intimacy of the situation did not go unnoticed by either party. They assessed each other as the air thickened with this thing between them. There wasn’t a name for it to be defined yet because they were only skimming the surface. Annabelle twisted the ends of her shirt, torn between reluctance to go and anxiety to stay. Graham chose to make the decision for them. He stood up and slowly approached while Annabelle retreated until she felt the door at her back, eyes wide with apprehension and licking her lips nervously.

“Did you need something else, Doc?” His breath caressed her face, and Annabelle found herself watching his lips. They were so close. Surely, there was a way for her to accidentally run into them, right?

““Yeah...uh, I mean no! Uh…” Words failed her. She couldn’t think with those eyes intently focused on her.

Graham leaned in, and Annabelle closed her eyes as his goatee grazed her cheek. The electricity between them crackled as she angled her head, eager to feel those lips on her skin. Instead, she heard the twist of the doorknob as Graham opened the door behind her and stepped back. “Goodnight, Doc.”

“Of course.” Humiliation complete, Annabelle opened her eyes and avoided his gaze as she stepped into the warm, balmy night.

What was she thinking?!

“Yo, Doc!”

Annabelle swung around, grateful for the darkness that hid her mortification.

Graham stood in the doorway framed by the soft light behind him. “Listen, I wasn’t at all trippin’ about your choice of night attire or the mask. I like your pajamas. This is your house and I respect that as well as your prerogative.” He placed his hands together and implored, “But if I could please make one request?”

“What’s that?” Annabelle was genuinely curious. Awww… he liked her unicorn pajamas! Perhaps he wasn’t as bad as she thought.

“Could you not wear Looney Tunes? That’s my ultimate weakness! I won’t be able to control myself if I even see Daffy Duck plastered across your—”

“You’re an ass!”

“Goodnight, Doc; sweet dreams.” Graham chuckled as he watched her stomp across the yard and enter the house. When she was in safely, he glanced down at his hard-on that was ever-present in Annabelle’s company. “C’mon, man. We gotta rendezvous in the shower.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Ten

 

“Doc, you in there? Doc?” Dotty buzzed through on the intercom. “Doc!”

“I’m up!” Annabelle automatically replied as she jackknifed in her chair and smoothed her braids away from her face. Stifling a yawn, she corrected herself, “Here! I meant I’m here. What’s up, Dotty?”

“Nothing; I just wanted to remind you that Mrs. Farlow will be here shortly with Rocco. Is everything alright? I haven’t seen you in awhile. Not that anything is going on out here. Just me and Toussaint kicking back.”

“Yeah, everything is fine. Just doing payroll. I’ll be out soon to greet them upon arrival.”

Dotty buzzed off and Annabelle stood up and stretched. The last week had been slow, and she’d been able to take power naps between patients. She’d been getting no sleep at home thanks to the rat infestation at her house. The rats, Edith and Rory, idolized Graham and thought he walked on water. He could do no wrong, and everything he said was just the funniest thing they’d ever heard. While Annabelle went to work, they went to the markets and explored the island on bikes. They’d established a bond and Annabelle was the interloper.

It didn’t help that she’d been avoiding alone time with him. Annabelle could see the questions in Graham’s eyes regarding Rory, but that was no one’s business but hers, and unlike the loveable rats, she wasn’t about to just roll over for him, even if Graham looked like he’d totally make it worth her while if she did. He was a mystery to her. One that Annabelle was still uncertain that she wanted solved or not. But she was fascinated with him. The man was never tired even though he never slept. Annabelle knew that because her room overlooked the casita. Through her sheer curtains, she could see him watching television or reading, stretched out on the bed in boxer briefs with one arm behind his head, his big body propped against the headboard.

He could have been reading the Berenstain Bears for all Annabelle cared. She was too focused on long, muscular legs, powerful thighs and arms, v-cut, ripped abs, and broad chest. Were the boxers really necessary? Graham reminded Annabelle of Christmas mornings as a giddy kid—the happiness of receiving presents and going bonkers over where to start the process of unwrapping and playing with them.

He was bad news all the way.

So what if he was funny, liked to read, was sexy as hell, charismatic, and knew his way around the kitchen? Graham even made coffee better than the coffee shop she stopped by on her way to work if she had time. His first morning in the house, he was cooking in the kitchen by the time Annabelle and Rory came downstairs, and a blueberry crumb coffee cake was cooling off. He’d handed Annabelle a Thai iced coffee that was delicious and perfectly brewed and told her to have a nice day. Sorcerer.

Last night, Graham had almost given Annabelle her first orgasm from a man. His osso bucco with herbed mushroom gorgonzola polenta was life-changing. The tender braised beef had fallen off the shanks, and the earthy flavors of the cheese and mushrooms were a hit, even with Rory who despised mushrooms. Her explosive moan had Annabelle wishing the floor would open up and swallow her whole as conversation around the table came to a halt.

“Are you okay, Mummy?”

Annabelle flushed hotly and covered her mouth to apologize. “Yes, baby. Sorry about that. I didn’t know it was going to taste so amazing.”

“It’s good to know that my time in the kitchen wasn’t in vain.” Graham’s lips twitched as he reached across the table and filled her wine glass halfway with Cabernet Sauvignon. “Do you know what the secret to a good meal is, Annabelle?”

The bite she’d taken was going down her throat as smooth as a boulder at the sizzling intensity in his eyes. Somehow, Annabelle managed not to choke on it. “Why don’t you enlighten me, Mr. Carlton?”

His eyes lowered to her lips that automatically parted as if he’d touched them and lingered before rising to imprison her in his molten gaze. “Inspiration. Anyone can cook out of necessity, but a great meal is born from an inclination to inspire happiness in others.”

Annabelle picked up her glass and swirled the deep red liquid around, choosing to ignore the sweltering heat of desire streaming through her veins. “I see. Where did you learn to cook like this?”

“The interest developed in the Marines,” he replied. “I insulted a mess hall cook and was challenged to do better.”

“And did you?” Edith chimed in, surprising Annabelle. Intently focused on Graham, she’d forgotten they weren’t alone at the table.

With an embarrassed grin, Graham admitted, “I went into the kitchen and made a complete fool of myself! The eggs were undercooked and runny, and the grits were rock hard. Don’t even get me started on the bacon; I burnt all of it to a crisp. Everywhere I went on base, I was getting clowned left and right. Maaan, I couldn’t hold my head up and was ready to fight everybody.”

He allowed the women a good laugh at his expense before continuing, “My pride demanded a rematch, so I threw down the gauntlet and spent a month researching cookbooks and watching cooking shows and was intrigued. I had no idea there were so many ways to make eggs or types of cheeses. The hard work paid off. I went back and won the throw down, but I also discovered that being in the kitchen relaxes me. After that, there was no turning back. I was hooked on cooking.”

Rory’s scandalized gasp was loud and dramatic as she threw her arm over her eyes. “Mr. Ram, you burned bacon! What’d you do that for?”

Graham hung his head with shame but snuck a wink at Edith and Annabelle. “I know, babygirl. It was an accident and I haven’t done it since. I didn’t burn it this morning, remember?”

“Mmmkay. Just don’t do it again,” Rory warned as she scooped up some polenta and rewarded him with a toothy grin. “Mr. Ram, what do you call a bear with no teeth?”

Her baby stayed with the jokes, Annabelle thought affectionately as she listened to the exchange.

“A dentist?”

 “Nope! A gummy bear!”

“Did you like the military?” Edith wanted to know. “What made you decide to join?”

“It was just what I needed at the time.” Graham’s expression closed off as he took a sip of his wine and turned to Rory. “Do you know what happens when an egg laughs?”

She clapped her hands eagerly. “No. What? Tell me!”

“It cracks up!”

He’d changed the subject after that. There was a story there; Annabelle could feel it. She sensed it had to do with why Georgie was so standoffish when she’d first come to Baymoor as well, and Annabelle wanted to know what it was.

Her intercom buzzed again. “Mrs. Farlow and Rocco are here.”

“I’ll be right out, Dotty.”

It was time to stop avoiding Graham but at a cost. If Annabelle wanted information, she would have to give up her own secrets to get it.

***

There was no denying it. Graham Carlton was in love. He didn’t think such a thing could happen so fast, especially to him, but it was an undisputed fact. She’d whirled her way into his life three days ago, ensnared him with those big brown eyes, and he was a goner. She kept him on his toes with her impulsive behavior and made him laugh like he hadn’t in a long time at the simplest things.

He could honestly say that his life was definitely enriched by Aurora ‘Rory’ Gaines’s presence in it and he felt privileged to have her in his life.

The lovable toddler was an open book with many complex layers that Graham was enjoying uncovering. For instance, Rory loved to wear her Batgirl costume with her feather boa and tiara on while playing soccer or throwing her football with him. She was fast and had a good arm for her age. Instead of cartoons, she avidly watched the National Geographic channel. Every morning, she blasted Kirk Franklin’s “Smile”, put her explorer’s vest on over her pajamas, and grabbed her magnifying glass and notebook before leading Graham into the backyard. Rory patiently taught him about the different types of plants, flowers, and insects in the backyard that she’d learned about from her mother. Afterward, she’d sit down at the kitchen table and draw what she’d observed.

Australia was known to have unique-looking creatures, and some of the insects looked downright prehistoric. Rory, however, showed no fear, just excitement at her findings. It wasn’t anything that Graham would have ever paid attention to on his own. As long as it wasn’t poisonous, man-eating, and something he could die from, Graham was cool. But through Rory’s eyes, everything was an adventure. Afternoons were spent playing and lazing on the beach, followed by a nap for her before Annabelle came home from work. They all ate together before she whisked Rory off to spend some alone time with her daughter before heading off to her room.

She was avoiding him, hiding behind her family and then closing her bedroom door, denying him the satisfaction of seeing her pretty face and enjoying her sharp mind as she discussed politics and current events with Edith. Annabelle was suffering from the misconceived notion that if they didn’t see one another, the attraction would evaporate. For a doctor, she could be incredibly naïve at times. Graham was content to wait a little while longer. For now. He didn’t want to start something with Annabelle then have to leave and be distracted by worrying about her on the other side of the world.

“Mr. Ram, do you know what kind of undies clouds wear?” Rory quizzed him as they worked together to build a sand castle.

“Boxers?”

Rory laughed at him. “No, silly! Thunderwear!”

“Good one, babygirl.”

“We need a moat, Mr. Ram!” Rory ordered briskly. She peered up at him from beneath the floppy wide brim of her white beach hat. “We gotta protect the queen in the castle. No bad guys can enter it! You hide them from the dragons, and I’ll shovel sand.”

“Ask and ye shall receive, Ms. Rory.” Graham picked up the two Barbie dolls they were building this labor of love for and silently wondered who was going to protect the men from them as he critiqued their developed, hard plastic bodies with pointy feet decked out in cling attire. Why didn’t they make church clothes for these dolls?

A pop of color caught his eyes, and the dolls were forgotten as Graham got an eyeful of Annabelle heading their way, wearing a jade-green one-piece that was high cut and crisscrossed around her tummy and cleavage, amplifying her voluptuous figure as the matching wrap flowed around her with the breeze. Gawdamn. And he wasn’t the only one to notice. Graham’s thunderous frown around the beach had motherfuckers averting their eyes as they met his possessive ones.

Annabelle was his. There wasn’t a doubt in Graham’s mind that she’d been created specifically for him. He wanted to bury his head between her legs and get lit on her taste until Annabelle was a quaking, sweaty, hot ass mess suffering from amnesia. Maybe later, there’d be time for sweet lovemaking, but for now, Graham wanted the kind of sex that’d have her climbing the walls, visiting a chiropractor consistently, and stumbling around bowlegged.  He could tell from the passionate way Annabelle approached her food that she would enjoy it as well. The constant lip and finger licking combined with the erotic moans and blissful sighs were driving him fucking insane, and he was tired and frustrated of nightly hand jobs to relieve the tension and ease the semi-permanent ache in his balls.

“Are plastic dolls on that list of yours, Carlton? Please tell me that I don’t need to worry about toys mysteriously disappearing when you leave?” If Annabelle passed out on the beach, it wouldn’t be from too much exposure to the sun. It would be from fighting the urge to touch Graham’s wet-dream inducing body checking for herself to see if any of those rippling muscles were airbrushed. Seriously, not one flaw anywhere. It seemed as if even the sun was biased in his favor, forming a “Highway to Heaven” filter directly on his ass. So unfair.

“I wasn’t planning to, but now that you mentioned it, I’m recommending that you frisk me on my way out,” he suggested helpfully. “All I ask is that you take your time and let me return the favor. It’ll tide us over until we link up again.”

“Yeeeaah, that’s gonna be a hard no for me, Carlton.”

“Scared you might like it too much, Doc?” Graham taunted, enjoying their sparring and loving the way her eyes sparkled despite her sarcastic tone.

Yesss.

“Pffft! Don’t flatter yourself, boo” Annabelle retorted then scolded, “And stop looking at me like that!”

“Like what?” Graham asked in a sotto innocent voice while his eyes once more traveled over her with frank admiration.

“Like I belong to you and am already in your bed!”

The words were meant to be censorious and accusing, but instead, emerged husky and dipped in raw yearning, the longing apparent even to her own ears. Horrified, Annabelle clasped both hands over her mouth as Graham’s eyes grew heavy-lidded with a raging desire he wasn’t attempting to hide. He stepped closer to her, his voice dropping to a raspy octave and inquired, “Do you want to be?”

Do. Not. Answer. That. Question, she lectured herself.

Images of them tangled up in bedsheets and him owning her pussy created a pool of moisture between her thighs. The sexual frustration he was serving up was un-fucking-real. Annabelle threw her head back, braids flying about as she addressed the cloudless blue sky. “Aaargh! Cut it out! Have you no shame?!”

“Relax, Doc,” Graham consoled her, but Annabelle should have known by the naughty glimmer in his eyes that he wasn’t done with her just yet. Lowering his voice, he drawled, “We don’t have to rush things. I’ll settle for baby steps if you’re cool with that. Picture this: we’ll start with snugglefucks then transition into some bomb-ass foreplay before—”

“My God, I’ve never met anyone wrapped looser!” Annabelle smacked his chest. Rock hard pecs. Shocker. “What is wrong with you? Totally inappropriate and wrong! No shame whatsoever! You don’t know right from wrong, do you?”

“Damn, that’s rude as hell, Doc!” Graham looked offended, but the devilish smile he gave warned Annabelle to tread with caution. “Of course, I do! Wrong is the fun one. But cheer up; I’m a firm believer that if you’re going to do something wrong, then you might as well do it right.”

“Mummy! You’re home early!” Rory jumped up and ran to Annabelle with outstretched arms. “Is it because of my dance tonight?”

Annabelle caught her daughter and twirled her around. “Hi, baby! Yes, you do have a dance recital, but I’m also home early because what’s today?”

“It’s Friday!” Rory shouted then added, “And you ain’t got no job, and—”

“Rory!” Mortified, Annabelle covered her daughter’s mouth as Graham burst out laughing. “Where did you learn that, young lady???”

“From Gigi’s movie!” the little girl declared proudly. “I seen it when I was ‘posed to be taking a nap!”

“You know that Santa’s elves are watching to see if you really take a nap? They let him know if you should go on the naughty or nice list at Christmastime,” Annabelle warned her. “Naptime is important, kiddo.”

Put out by her mother’s words, Rory’s squinted her eyes and crossed her arms. “I don’t want to be on the naughty list! Make naps shorter.”

“Or you can just take them anyway so you can still have dessert?” Annabelle pointed out reasonably.

“Naps and any dessert I want!”

“No naps mean more vegetables, no dessert, and an earlier bedtime, Aurora,” Annabelle warned, her eyes squinting now too.

Rory’s lips quivered as she pouted and her eyes resembled pools of melted chocolate chips when she turned to Graham. “Mr. Ram…”

Shit. The last place Graham wanted to be was caught in the middle of the Gaines ladies. Rory’s look said she’d love and adore him forever if he took her side. Annabelle’s pursed lips and arched eyebrow said she’d flay him alive and he’d have a better chance of winning megabucks than getting on her good side again if he didn’t choose wisely. But Graham had a thing about seeing the underdog win, although in this case, between these two, he wasn’t sure who was which…fuuuck.

Graham plucked Rory out of Annabelle’s arms and set her on top of his shoulders, holding onto her legs as she wrapped her arms around his head. “Babygirl, I think you have to listen to Mummy because she loves you very much and takes good care of you. If you didn’t listen to Mummy, she’d be sad and we can’t let your mummy be sad, can we?”

With a long-suffering sigh, Rory nodded her consent.

“I promise I’ll be good, Mummy!” she shouted down at Annabelle, who was blinking back tears at Graham’s input one minute and then groaning in the next when Rory shouted, “Hey, everybody, look at me! I’m sooooo high!”

“She’s probably going to be the CEO of her own company with those aggressive negotiating skills,” Graham boasted.

“Or have a rap sheet and ankle bracelet,” Annabelle eyed her daughter with exasperated adoration. “Either way; the world is her oyster.”

Rory waved and called out to everyone on the leisurely walk back to the house. Her infectious greetings were returned along with curious glances from her neighbors for Graham. Aware of the speculation toward her houseguest, Annabelle simply smiled, waved, and kept it moving while Rory sang “Itsy-Bitsy Spider” at the top of her lungs.

To her surprise, they greeted Graham by name, and like Edith and Rory, they were charmed by him as well.

“I tried your hollandaise sauce recipe, Graham! My bridge club loved it!”

“Took your advice and decided to give yank football a go! Created a dream-team fantasy football team!”

“You were right about my cologne not matching my personality. I switched it to your recommendation, and my girlfriend was all over me!”

“Someone’s been busy making friends,” Annabelle remarked snidely and Graham flashed her a charming smile.

“Why do you sound so surprised? I’m a people person, Doc.”

“Mmm, it sounds more like Stockholm Syndrome to me, Mr. Rogers.”

“Are you trying to say I’m not growing on you, Doc?”

“Yes, like a fungus,” Annabelle deadpanned, to which Graham rudely snorted, “I guesss you aiiight. Thanks, by the way.”

Graham looked down at her, but she avoided his gaze, choosing to focus instead on the house in the near distance.

“For what?”

“Being good with Rory. You’re a natural with her. I knew parenting would be hard work, and I just pray that I’m getting it right. Some days, I ace it and can walk around like Ali after defeating Frazier. Other days, I’m Frazier looking up at Ali and wishing my baby arrived with an instruction manual.” Annabelle wrung her hands together. “I’m her only parent and can’t afford to mess up. I want her to grow up to be strong, independent, and make better choices than I did. To make sure she never makes my mistakes and to always keep her safe.” She wrapped her hands around her middle and tried to shake away the negative thoughts. “If anything ever happened to her…”

The anguish in her voice sliced through Graham like a machete. “No harm will come to her or you, Annabelle. I promise.”

“Davis and his family can never know about her!” Annabelle forced herself to take steadying deep breaths to squelch the rising panic and fear of such an occurrence. “He would try to take her from me! I’ll kill…Excuse me—”

 

Annabelle tried to slide away, but Graham grabbed her hand and held it after securing Rory’s legs with his other hand. “Don’t.”

His harshly uttered command gave Annabelle pause, and she tried to focus on that instead of the sparks his touch ignited, or how warm, comforting and perfect his large hand felt intertwined with hers. He held it like he had the right to, no hesitation and oozing confidence that she’d catch up and come to the same conclusion as well.

“Don’t run from me, Doc. I’m not your enemy nor would I ever hurt you or Rory. I’m not him, Annabelle,” Graham said quietly as he squeezed her hand then brought it up to his lips. He kissed her fingers, and the brush of his supple lips and goatee on her flesh made Annabelle shiver with need. “You have my word.”

Annabelle was startled by his confession. “I never said you were. You don’t have to convince me of that, Graham. If you were anything like that, you would never have helped Edith or Misha.”

“Then why are you avoiding me?” Graham threw back at her. “You get ghost as soon as the opportunity presents itself.” He nudged her playfully. “Is it my breath? Or do I smell?”

Ummm, yeah, like heaven.

“What?! No!” Annabelle elbowed him when she saw him smiling. “Hah, hah, funny guy. Don’t act like you don’t know that you have a million women trying to beat down your door.”

“Well if they are, they won’t find me, because I’m on the other side of the world, chasing after just one. This is something I’ve never done before, and I’m just as surprised as you are,” Graham said with such seriousness that Annabelle pressed her lips together to prevent the smile from taking over her face before he could see it. She failed miserably, and her joyful unguarded reaction along with Rory singing from her perch on his shoulders made Graham feel invincible.

“Mr. Carlton, why are you still here? I’ve made it crystal clear that I’m not going back with you for obvious reasons,” Annabelle glanced up at Rory meaningfully, “yet you didn’t leave. Is it because you still think that something is going to pop off between us?”

Instead of answering her, Graham lightly squeezed Rory’s big toe, “How are you doing up there, babygirl?”

“I’m still high!” Graham chuckled and Annabelle squeezed his hand tightly. She tried to give him the stink eye but failed miserably. How could she be mad at him when he made her baby happy? “Mummy, I can see the house!”

“We’re almost there, Rory. When we get home, it’s straight to the bathtub. Don’t worry; I picked up your new tutu on the way home today. It’s already in your closet.”

“Hey, Mummy, I got a joke for you! What do you call a pig that does karate?”

“Hmmm, let me think about it baby.” Annabelle made a big show of appearing to concentrate before answering an impatient Rory. “A pork chop, lovey.”

“Good job, Mummy!”

“She tells that joke every Friday,” Annabelle confessed under her breath to Graham, and they shared a grin.

His thumb brushed the inside of her wrist, making her heart gallop. “That’s what I’m talking about. Your fears as a parent are natural, but they’re in vain, Annabelle. It couldn’t have been easy to have a baby by yourself with no support system or family and friends to lend a hand. You’re raising a great kid. She’s happy, safe, and well-adjusted, enjoying her childhood. Any fears and anxieties you might have aren’t projected on her. You were graced for motherhood. Trust me on this; babygirl hit the mom lotto for real.”

Tears formed at his acknowledgement that she was doing ok. Annabelle had felt completely lost and overwhelmed with a newborn. She couldn’t trust anyone, and she was a zombie the first eight months after giving birth until the baby finally slept through the night. So many times she wanted to pick up the phone and call Auntie Cee for advice, but the fear of being discovered was too great. Graham’s reaffirming praise was making it hard for Annabelle to resist him, crumbling defenses that hadn’t been firmly set against him in the first place. “I’m still waiting for an answer to my question.”

“Ask me to dinner and you’ll find out.”

“What?! Why do I have to ask you?!” Annabelle shrieked. “You should be asking me to dinner?! And what makes you think I want to go anywhere with you?”

“Because if you ask me, then I’ll know you’re ready to stop frontin’ and we can get down to the serious business of our relationship. No more hiding behind bedroom curtains, and you can explore me up close at your own leisure,” Graham said superiorly. “Now, close your mouth before you swallow a bug, and remember there’s nothing to be ashamed of. I’m not mad at you for looking. Hell, I get it,” his smile full was full of arrogance, “but I’m gonna have to start charging you soon because there’s a difference between looking and staring with your tongue rolled out to your feet, slobbering everywhere.”

“You’re insane and in need Jesus to lay his hands on you ASAP.” Face flaming with embarrassed horror at being outed as a Peeping Tom, Annabelle tried to yank her hand back, but he held fast. “And we don’t have a relationship!”

“Because you keep c-blockin’ me,” Graham growled, keeping it PG for Rory’s benefit. He drew Annabelle into him, holding on tightly to Rory as he whispered that into her ear, allowing her tantalizing fragrance to envelop him. Notes of vanilla, coconut, amber, and sandalwood dared him to discover if the scent was everywhere on her body. Graham bit her earlobe gently, and Annabelle’s whimper shot straight to his groin, drawing forth an erection that made it painfully hard for him to get his point across. His tongue traced the shell of her ear lightly, and Annabelle’s short nails clawed into his hand.

“Now I’m trying to be a fucking gentleman and give you time to adjust to the idea, but gone ahead and sleep on me if you want to. I promise you won’t have any one but yourself to blame if you’re face down, ass up, minus the romantic aspect of a courtship. Give in. It’s happening, Doc. Don’t say you weren’t warned.”

The darkly seductive laugh that accompanied his vow traveled directly to her slick, aching core. Annabelle swore she could feel that laugh and his breath caressing her throbbing, needy sex. Graham’s cool confidence screamed that not only would he get you to divulge your most indecently decadent fantasies, but that he could also surpass them.

Must be strong! Stand your ground, Annabelle pleaded to herself.

She opened her mouth to rip him a new one, but a different set of words tumbled out before Annabelle could stop them. “Mr. Carlton, would you like to have dinner with me tonight after the recital?”

Graham raised their joined hands and kissed each of her fingers. “Doc, I thought you’d never ask.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Eleven

 

“How do I look?” Annabelle twirled around for Edith’s inspection. When her question was met with silence, she tugged at her turtleneck collar impatiently. “Please say something!”

From where she sat cross-legged on Annabelle’s bed, Edith coughed delicately. “Dear, I don’t mean to pry, but exactly what kind of message are you trying to send to this man? That you’re allergic to dick and sell encyclopedias for fun?”

Annabelle picked up a throw pillow from her lounge chair and hurled it at Edith, who fell back on the bed with a laugh as she nimbly caught it. Smoothing her dress in place, Annabelle defensively challenged, “What’s wrong with my outfit? It happens to be one of my favorites!”

“Get real, Annabelle! Mummies are wrapped in less than what you have on.” Edith tossed the pillow aside. “Pardon my French, but for fuck’s sake, who wears a long-sleeved, knee-length turtleneck dress with knee high boots during the summertime?! I thought you were going out with Graham because you liked him, not to repel him. What’s the problem?”

Annabelle flopped down on the chaise and removed her boots. “I really do like Graham. He’s funny, kind, and sexy as all get out, but most importantly, he’s good with Rory. He’s also the first man in her life. I’m extremely nervous about having a relationship of any sort for Rory’s sake. What happens if things don’t work out? She likes him so much and is already so attached,” she shrugged helplessly. “I don’t want either of us to get hurt but especially my daughter.”

Edith rose from the bed and went to sit next to the brave woman that she’d come to love and admire so much. She could still remember their relationship before that terrible night and how awful she’d been to Annabelle in trying to discourage her relationship with Davis. The thinly veiled contempt and standoffish behavior she’d displayed in the hopes that the girl would turn tail and run in the opposite direction.

***

“You have a lovely home, Mrs. Fowler,” Annabelle declared politely as Edith escorted her to the sitting room.

Edith deliberately didn’t acknowledge the compliment as she gestured to the settee and sat down in an antique wing chair across from her. “Sit down, Ms. Gaines. Please excuse the tardiness of my husband and son. They went hunting this afternoon and should be joining us shortly. In the meantime, I’d like for you to tell me more about yourself.”

Clasping her knees nervously, Annabelle complied. “I’m the only child of Samantha and Thomas Gaines. My parents own the Stop ‘N’ Go convenience store outside of town. I plan to become a veterinarian and work at the animal hospital after graduating college. My dream is to open up an animal clinic so that the rural farms have closer access to medical care.”

Edith eyed her khaki pants, pink polo, and blue and white argyle sweater with open disdain. Self-consciously, Annabelle smoothed her sweater and silently compared her style to Edith’s understated elegance— a simple, sleeveless black sheath, flesh-toned pantyhose, black pumps, and a simple strand of freshwater pearls around her neck and wrist, along with the matching earrings. Her hair was cut in a pageboy style that flattered her elegant features.

“Who will care for your family while you’re off playing with animals? A woman’s place is with her family or do you plan to abandon them and put your career first?” Edith fired off the questions with a frigid smile.

Annabelle drew herself up, indignation stamped all over her face. “Excuse me, but why should a woman have to choose between having a career or raising a family? Why can’t she have both? It is possible in this day and age. Women are the future, Mrs. Fowler. I’m surprised that you have objections to such a concept.”

“Are you?” Edith leaned forward in her chair. “Tell me, Ms. Gaines, is that ‘concept’ working out well for your mother? Because from where I’m sitting, it doesn’t appear to be. Maybe if she devoted more time to you instead of that convenience store, you’d have a better sense of style and manners.” With a look of pity, Edith sat back, relaxed now that she’d accomplished her mission in getting Annabelle riled up.

“I understand your attraction to my son, but I have to be honest with you, Ms. Gaines. You’re wasting your time. There are certain qualifications required for candidates aspiring to be a Fowler spouse that should already be in place. Looks, poise, style, and charm, none of which you have. After the marriage, wives are expected to bear children and devote time to their upbringing. You will also be expected to dedicate time to charities, which it doesn’t sound like you’ll have a lot of if you’re off chasing animals. Ms. Gaines, you are severely flawed in every way for my son. Do I need to elaborate on your obvious lack of lineage as well?”

Fists curled and ready to fight at this evil woman’s cruel and belittling words, Annabelle wanted to retaliate, but the words would not come as the insecurities crept in.

Don’t take that from me! Run my dear, Edith thought to herself. Hope was building that the girl would tell her to go to hell and leave. She could see it in Annabelle’s eyes. Perhaps she needed a little more incentive?

“Ms. Gaines, these words may seem cruel and unfair, but I’m honestly trying to spare you the humiliation when you realize that my son is just being a man. Davis will put up with your inadequacies to get one thing because that’s the only thing girls with your figures are built for. Cut your losses now.”

She would go now, Edith thought with relief. She’d sufficiently scared the girl off.

Except Edith had made a grievous mistake and underestimated Annabelle’s stubbornness as well as the lengths Brenton would scheme to ensure the young woman belonged to their son.

***

“I wasn’t that close to the Banks family for obvious reasons, but Graham’s mother is a drug addict. She returned once to Baymoor and caused quite a stir by being high and propositioning men left and right, embarrassing her family something awful. Thankfully, Georgie was already in Nate and Valerie’s custody by then. If those siblings had to deal with that daily, then it’s a miracle that they didn’t turn out like their parents.

 

Graham Carlton is not a soft man. He has flaws but they’re balanced out by his fairness.  He would never have come into your life if his intentions were less than honorable, Annabelle. You will always know where you stand with a man like him. Graham would never have expressed an interest in you, and pursued it, if he wasn’t serious about the both of you.”

Edith hugged Annabelle to her. “I despise myself for not being brave enough to warn you off outright or not smart enough to realize the treachery that was already in motion. Forgive me if you feel manipulated by my bringing him here. This is not my choice to make but yours. I won’t fight you if you say no to him, but I think you could be missing out on something special if you don’t take a chance."

The bedroom door opened, and Rory stood in the doorway with her tutu covering her head. “A little help, please! I’m stuck in here!”

Annabelle rose but Edith stopped her. “I’ll go while you finish getting ready. You look lovely in this dress. Don’t change. For anybody.”

She reached her granddaughter and removed the tutu. “Come along, Rory. Let’s get you ready so that you can wow us with those dance moves!”

“I’m a star, Gigi! Look at me!” The little girl twirled away from the doorway.

“The brightest, my girl.” Edith winked at Annabelle. “You get it from your mama.”

***

“You clean up well,” Edith appraised Graham’s navy and white paisley dress shirt he wore with a navy suit paired with cognac leather loafers and a matching leather belt. “Trying to impress a certain veterinarian, are you?” 

“If I thought she was the kind of woman who was only impressed by that sort of thing, I’d wear a tux or just my birthday suit every day,” Graham murmured. “Except around Rory, of course.”

“Absolutely incorrigible, you scamp,” Edith winked at him. “Don’t ever stop being you, Graham Carlton. You keep her on her toes, and she likes it whether she admits it or not. You’re good for her.”

Footsteps descending the staircase drew their attention. They turned to see Annabelle holding Rory’s hand as they carefully descended.

Life was all about change and consistency. Graham was wise enough to recognize a game-changer when it fell in his lap. He’d spent most of his life traveling the world, chasing adventures until he got to Baymoor and discovered Annabelle Gaines. He realized that his biggest adventure of all would be the one that he took with this courageous woman and her adorable daughter by his side if they’d have him.

Annabelle had changed into an orange, blue, white, and red Ankara print knee-length, wraparound dress with elbow-length, layered ruffled sleeves that clung to her ripe, voluptuous body. She paired it with strappy red high-heeled sandals, and the bright colors of her outfit complimented her beautiful skin tone while the V-neck teased a glimpse of the blessed abundance underneath. Half of her braids were pinned in a bun on top of her head while the rest hung down her back. Those lips that tempted him were glossed with some bronze shimmery stuff that he wanted to lick clean. Delicate gold hoop earrings and bangles completed her regal look.

She was magnificent and words failed Graham who found it hard to look away from her. Not that he would ever want to.

Annabelle was busy doing some staring of her own. Dayumn Zaddy. Was there anything Graham Carlton didn’t look good in? Suits were created to be worn by this man, which he did so stylishly and effortlessly. The slim cut fit him exceptionally well, accentuating his broad shoulders and height. She loved the dark blue and white against his bronze complexion. His bald head was freshly shaved and goatee sharply lined, and Annabelle knew he’d smell good as hell once she got up on him, which she planned to do.

“Mr. Ram, how do I look?” Rory’s grin was infectious as she reached the bottom of the stairs and let go of Annabelle’s hand to twirl around on her tiptoes, causing her pink tutu that matched her leotard and tights to fan out. Her hair was pulled into a bun with her baby hairs laid and silver tiara sparkling under the foyer lights as she danced.

“Like a million bucks, babygirl. Can I have your autograph, superstar? Can you sign your name for me?” Graham held out his arms and she ran into them and he hugged her. “Make sure to save me a dance if you’re not too busy, please.”

“But I can’t write my name yet!” Her forehead was furrowed with concentration while she tapped her lips with her index finger thoughtfully before her expression brightened. “I know! I’ll give you a sticker instead! One of my dinosaur ones, and tomorrow we’ll draw a picture together! Deal?”

“I like the way you think. Now let’s get out of here so you can get to your recital on time.”

“Why don’t I take Rory to the car?” Edith suggested with wide-eyed innocence. “That way, you and Annabelle can lock up?”

“Thank you.” Graham handed her the keys to his rental car without looking away from Annabelle who smiled provocatively at him. “This could take a minute.”

“Or five,” Annabelle countered huskily, lashes fluttering at him.

“Definitely five.” Graham’s gaze was hooded as he smoothly agreed.

“What have I created?” Edith wondered aloud before leaving with Rory.

“C’mere, Doc,” Graham ordered roughly. It was growled with such gritty need and desire that Annabelle could only obey.

The extra ‘oomph’ she put in her hips, caused his eyes to darken with retribution promising to be dangerously addictive while his shameless grin symbolized his enjoyment of her teasing. Annabelle loved being a woman and embraced her femininity, but that hadn’t always been the case. There was a time when she’d starved herself for approval. It wasn’t until she left Baymoor that she’d fallen back in love with the curves God had blessed her with. At times, she’d questioned why she’d been given so much, but now, standing in front of this man who was devouring her with his eyes, Annabelle fully understood the reason.

Edith’s outlook had forced Annabelle to realize that before Graham set foot in Furla, there was the distinct possibility that she might have just been…existing, going through the motions as she focused exclusively on Rory and ignoring herself. His presence stimulated everything around Annabelle — food, her family, perspective, conversation, and her mind, soul, and body.

Graham’s hand nestled in the dip of her back possessively, generating a heat that shot through Annabelle’s body. His fingers brushed the top of her ass, pulling her closer to him and causing her to sharply inhale as she felt the proof that she wasn’t in this alone. “Question for you, Doc. What are you tryna do to me? I’m a child of God and had intentions of turning in for the night with my Bible and the purest of thoughts until your fine ass showed up in this dress.”

“Puuhleez! Bible my ass. You, sir, are the reason holy water was created.” Annabelle ran her fingers over the lapels of his jacket and tilted her head to the side, studying him from beneath the sweep of her lashes, her pouty, glossy lips beckoning him.  “What was it you said to me earlier, hmmm? Something about looking and then flat out drooling?”

Graham cradled her face in his. “Are you sure, Doc? No take-backs allowed.”

She knew what he was asking and this was her opportunity to say no. Heart racing, Annabelle swallowed hard, then whispered, “Mr. Carlton, we both know you can’t stay here forever. Just…Just don’t destroy anything I might need when you go.”

Her heart, Graham realized with a sharp pang at the vulnerability in her eyes. Didn’t she know that breaking hers would be destroying his? His lips hovered directly above hers. “I won’t, but you gotta get yourself outta that kitty cat mindset of thinking you’ve got nine lives and can afford to waste this one away. Live a life of your design not default.” Graham’s lips brushed hers tantalizingly. “Take a chance on me, Doc. I promise I’ll be worth the risk.”

Her lips touched his and it was a wrap for both of them.

Graham had been with many women, but This. Woman. Right. Here. One touch of their lips and his slate was wiped clean. Only she existed. His tongue slipped past her pillow soft lips, and Annabelle’s tongue readily met his, tangling and meshing perfectly. It was heady, intoxicating, greedy, and dirty in the best ways possible. Graham fed on her sweetness, rotating between delving into the recesses of her mouth and nibbling and sucking on her plush lips with one hand threading through her braids to firmly cup her nape and the other sliding down to palm her ass and squeeze as he backed her against the front door. He couldn’t get enough of her.

Annabelle had anticipated the kiss to be exactly like the man: bold, thorough, and unapologetic. And it was, but oh so much more. Kissing Graham was like standing next to the sun. Like flying and drowning at the same time. Like a never-ending sugar high that Annabelle craved. Graham didn’t just kiss with his lips but his body as well. The hard planes of his frame conformed to her pliant curves as he used those big hands to express himself. They roved over her body, caressing, imprinting, branding, and claiming Annabelle as his.

She clung to his jacket lapels, crushing the fabric in a death grip as Graham’s hands yanked her dress up above her ass. His lips grazed her jaw then down her neck to cover her pulse, sending jolts of ecstasy through her body.

Those magical fingers burned a trail up the back of her thigh before softly stroking the inside then gliding up to the saturated scrap of fabric covering her pussy. She’d died and gone to heaven. Graham swallowed Annabelle’s helpless moan as he stroked once, twice…before pulling her panties aside and dipping his fingers inside of her slick core while his thumb feathered over her swollen clit.

If this was supposed to be a kiss, how was she going to survive foreplay and the main event?

She was drenched and all Graham wanted to do was shirk the clothes and lose himself in Annabelle’s softness. He coaxed her g-spot skillfully, and she unraveled; her scream traveling through his body as she sank her teeth into his bottom lip.

Lord, please don’t let him stop! Annabelle thought, bucking frenziedly against Graham’s fingers, seeking relief from the aching pressure that was building at mercurial-speed inside of her. Sooo close…

Beeeeeep!

They broke apart, staring in confusion at each other.

Beeep! Beeep! Beeeeeeeep!

“Car horn.” Graham reluctantly released her as the honking started again. He pressed his forehead against the door, struggling to regain composure as his fingers slowly slipped with regret from her welcoming body. It didn’t help that Annabelle was still clinging to him, and panting heavily in his ear. With a groan, he rasped in her ear, “We need to go, baby, but I’ll make it up to you. On my life, I swear it.”

“Damn straight you will,” Annabelle breathed with a dreamy smile. Gently, she pushed against him, and Graham stepped back grudgingly, allowing her to right her dress and smooth his jacket in place. Her hand brushed against his dick, and they both groaned in sexual frustration. “Come on. I don’t want Rory to be late. She’ll never forgive us.”

“True dat. Can’t have babygirl mad at her favorite person,” Graham agreed grimly then chuckled at Annabelle’s scowl. “Get used to it, Doc. I’m not going anywhere.”

She wanted to give him crap, but he raised his fingers to his mouth, falling back against the door with a rapturous expression as he sucked them clean. “Gawddamn, that’s good! You taste just like peach cobbler!”

“Stoooop it! You’re ridiculous!” Annabelle covered her face with her hands to shield her embarrassment. “Go wash your hands! I’ll meet you at the car.”

“I’m going, but did I mention that peach cobbler happens to be my favorite dessert?”

They made it to the dance studio in good time, and as they approached the glass sliding doors, Graham and Annabelle were able to literally see what they were trying to build together. Their reflection revealed Annabelle and Graham with Rory skipping between them holding their hands, and Edith on Graham’s other arm. They all wore big, matching smiles.

Graham winked at her in the glass before whispering to her, “Now that’s a good-looking family.”

Damn straight they were, Annabelle thought winking back at him. “I concur, Mr. Carlton.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Twelve

 

If Aurora Edith Gaines had noticed the look on her mother’s face when she flung herself back on the sofa, she might have reconsidered her dramatic actions, right? At least that’s what Annabelle liked to tell herself as she watched the stranger’s (because she sure as hell didn’t know whose kid this was actin’ a damn fool) little body little body go ramrod straight and stiff as a board with exertion to get her point across.

Tears streamed down Rory’s face as she wailed, “I wanna go, Mummy! I don’t wanna stay with Gigi! I! Want! To! Goooo!”

After returning from the recital, the quartet had returned to the house to drop Edith and Rory off before Annabelle and Graham headed to dinner. The recital had gone perfectly, with the children executing their dance moves with enthusiastic precision. Graham filmed the recital and was hardly in his seat, moving around the room to get better angles of Rory as he filmed her performance. The little girl preened for the camera and hammed it up for Graham, waving at him, curtsying, and blowing kisses to Annabelle and Edith as they danced to Stevie Wonder’s “Isn’t She Lovely”.

She wasn’t the only one to draw attention. Annabelle, who was used to being the only single parent in Rory’s dance group, found the attention she garnered and the buzz that Graham’s attendance generated to be highly annoying. He handled it well, paying no mind to the hushed whispers, stares, and flirtatious smiles from the other grown females in attendance. All of his attention was divided between Rory, Edith, and Anabelle.

“You’d think they’d never seen a man before,” Annabelle fumed out of the corner of her mouth to Edith. “Were their children immaculate conceptions?”

“Honey, there are men and then there’s Graham Carlton,” Edith stated. “Didn’t he remind you of that fact before you left the house?”

Annabelle gasped indignantly, but she couldn’t contain her Cheshire grin or find an inaccuracy in Edith’s keen observations. She nudged her dear friend affectionately, “Have I told you how much I love you?”

“I believe it’s been mentioned a time or two.” Edith patted Annabelle’s knee. “And the feeling is mutual.”

At the end of the recital, Rory stirred up even more attention when she bypassed Annabelle and Edith to run straight into Graham’s arms, giggling as he bowed and presented a small bouquet of white peonies to her. Annabelle wasn’t sure where he got the bouquet from, but she tried not to take it personally that she’d been so rudely replaced in her daughter’s eyes. She was slightly mollified by Graham, who grabbed her hand in his, kissing it, and giving it a reassuring squeeze. The good feeling lasted until they got to the house and Annabelle and Graham bade Rory good night.

With consternation, Rory watched as they made their way to the front door without her and promptly started bawling her eyes out. With chagrin, Annabelle watched her child do everything short of making her head spin in circles to get her way.

“I wanna goooo!”

“Aurora Edith Gaines, please stop.” Annabelle bent down and picked up her daughter. Rory clung to her, arms wrapped around her neck and sniffling pitifully. Annabelle kissed her tear-soaked cheek and quietly urged Rory, “Tell Mummy what’s wrong.”

“I wanna go with you and Mr. Ram! He’s my friend too, Mummy!” she informed Annabelle stubbornly, burying her face in her mummy’s neck. “You have to share! That’s what you always tell me! Sharing is good!”

“Yes, but you and Gigi get to spend all day with Mr. Ram while Mummy works. Now, it’s Mummy’s time to hang out with him,” Annabelle spoke gently but firmly. “Tomorrow, we can all go whale watching and to the bird sanctuary, but for now, Mummy and Mr. Ram are going out, and you’ll stay here with Gigi since it’s almost your bedtime, alright my love? If you don’t go to sleep on time, you’ll be a fussy crankypants tomorrow. Can you tell Mummy what happens to fussy crankypants’?”

“They have to go in timeout and get no desert,” Rory muttered sullenly. She wiped the tears from her face, glancing at Graham with a sad face as she fiddled with her mother’s braids. “’Kay, Mummy, I’ll listen. G’bye, Mr. Ram.”

He was going to lose it. Babygirl’s tears and wobbly lower lip were a fucking dagger in Graham’s heart. He just knew that he’d join in when Rory started crying. Shit, his chest still felt like it was crumbling. Graham pulled a white handkerchief from the inside of his jacket pocket and carefully wiped Rory’s face. Clearing his throat noisily, Graham kissed her forehead. “While you were getting ready for the recital, I made you something special for dessert, babygirl. Have Gigi check the freezer.”

Immediately, Rory’s face brightened. “Is it chocolate chip ice cream?”

He tapped her nose. “I guess you’ll have to eat your dinner to find out. Be good for Gigi, please.”

Rory kissed his cheek then scrambled out of Annabelle’s arms, scampering to the kitchen without looking back. “Bye, Mummy!”

Annabelle stamped her foot in irritation as she called after her daughter. “No kiss?!” 

“Chile, that is your cue to leave. Quit looking a gift horse in the mouth.” Edith clapped her hands. “Chop! Chop!”

She walked them to the door, allowing Annabelle to go ahead and pulling Graham back for a big hug. Words weren’t needed but Graham had a few for her.

“There’s a pint of wild-honey lavender in there for you as well.”

“Good God, if she doesn’t want you, I’m staking my claim here and now.”

***

“Are you sure you want to do this? That might have been too much for you, and I completely understand if you want to leave and forget that you ever met us,” Annabelle joked. Or at least attempted to joke because she was dead ass serious. Her ears were still ringing from Rory’s unexpected and volatile tantrum.

Instead of answering, Graham got out of the black Land Rover and walked around to hold Annabelle’s door open. He waited until she stepped out to pull Annabelle close to him, hands resting on her hips. His beautiful brown eyes were stern and determined as they bore into hers. “See, this is what we not gon’ do, baby.”

“And what’s that, Mr. Carlton?”

His finger traced her jawline. “Allow doubt. If you think I’m going to run because Rory was expressing herself, then that’s you bein’ extra as hell. I’m trying to immerse myself in your world and flourish with you. Before showing up here, those are words I would have never considered or said to any woman, Annabelle. This is all new to me, but I’m not scared or running. I’m exactly where I want to be.” Graham gave her a tender smile. “I know what you’ve been through, Doc. I don’t want to scare you, but I want you to know that I’m not going anywhere.”

Annabelle leaned into him, allowing her head to rest on his shoulder. She listened to his heartbeat. It was strong, steady, and unwavering, just like Graham. He was so different than what she’d previously known...

“You think you can leave me?” Davis’s hand grabbed her chin and squeezed it until Annabelle cried out, his other hand wrapping around her throat, causing her oxygen to trickle until she saw black spots. All she saw was the maniacal rage brewing in his eyes. “After all the time I invested in you? You belong to me! Do you understand that?! We’re through when I say we’re through, and I’m not going anywhere. It will always be you and me, Annabelle. You will always be mine,” Davis spoke against her cheek as if he were trying to brand the words into her skin. “Always. Don’t ever forget that.”

“Come back to me, Doc.” Graham prodded Annabelle gently, bringing her back to the present with a kiss to her forehead. “It’s okay, baby; I’m here.”

“I know, Graham.” Annabelle could see his concern for her, but she didn’t want the kid gloves or to be looked at like she was a victim. “I’m not going anywhere either, you big softie, so you can quit your crying.”

“Softie?” Graham raised an eyebrow and grabbed her hand, guiding it lower between them to his belt buckle. “Should I continue and prove you a liar? Big? Hell yeah. But soft? Yeah, fucking right. This thing is like a nightstick. Wars could have been fought and won with this weapon of mass destruction.”

“Pervert! What is wrong with you?!” Annabelle jerked her hand back with a laugh and Graham joined in, relieved to distract her from the dark thoughts. He wrapped his arm around her waist and directed her toward Maliika Pier, the nightlife section of Furla. “I was talking about the flowers, making homemade ice cream, and last but not least, the way Rory’s crying had you straight shooook.”

Embarrassment crept up Graham’s face, and he tried to dismiss her claim. “Doc, let’s get you fed. Lack of food has made you lightheaded and more delusional than normal.”

But Annabelle refused to budge. She was crowing with delight at Graham’s blatant discomfort. “Nah, man! We ain’t goin’ nowhere until you look me in my eyes and tell me I didn’t just spit the truth!”

“I can’t. Your eyes are dead and emotionless, like a beta fish’s. I don’t know if my heart can be trusted with such a cold, unfeeling, and heartless person if you weren’t moved by that sweet baby’s tears,” he teased, nuzzling her neck. “C’mon, we’re going to be late.”

He gave her hand a gentle tug, but Annabelle was rooted to the spot, transfixed by his words. At his questioning glance, she spoke in rapid bursts. “You can, you know! Trust me, I mean. With your heart. I would never hurt or disrespect it or you. I promise, Graham.”

Graham wrapped his arms around her and kissed her. It wasn’t the earth-shattering vortex like before, but it was just as impactful in the tender sweet way his lips roved over hers assuredly. “Let’s go, Doc.”

It bothered Annabelle that he didn’t address her declaration, but she’d wait until later to revisit the matter. Instead, she assessed him with a skeptical leer.

“I have questions. Where are we going? How is it that you tricked me into asking you to dinner, but I have no idea where we’re going? Also, why do I feel like you had everything arranged and just needed me to fall in line? Lastly, how do you know if I’ll even like it?”

 “Add highly suspicious to the list of things I find incredibly hot about you, woman.”

“Sorry, no ‘ride or die chick’ here, boo.” Annabelle shrugged unapologetically. “I’m an ‘evaluate and contemplate’ kinda woman.”

“Which I’m clearly a sucker for. Add in the mean-mugging and bad temperament, and you’re a wish from heaven wrapped in a dream come true,” Graham deadpanned, steering her toward Unica One, a restaurant at the end of the pier. “What more could any sane man possibly want?”

Annabelle stuck her tongue out at him. “But where’s the lie tho’?”

“Welcome to Unica One!” the hostess beamed. “Do you have a reservation?”

“Yes; it’s under Carlton,” Annabelle replied, watching Graham with the squinty-eyed stare he found so adorable. He thought about teasing her just to see her temper flare but decided not to rock the boat.

“Ah, here it is! If you’ll follow me, please. Right this way.”

The outdoor restaurant was one with a ceiling constructed of white nautical rope held up by poles wrapped in string lights to create an intimate dining experience. They were shown to a table overlooking the ocean, and Graham pulled Annabelle’s chair out before sitting down.

“This is very nice, Mr. Carlton. I’m impressed.”

“Oh yeah? How impressed?” He drawled.

“Impressed enough to hold my temper and not call you on your bullshit because I know you’d get a kick out of it,” Annabelle smiled sweetly.

“Damn. Now, I don’t know if I’m supposed to be impressed by your restraint or disappointed.” Graham leaned forward in his chair, studying her. “See, you get this deep groove between your brows that will probably become permanent in time.” He laughed at Annabelle’s annoyed expression. “Oh yeah, there it is! And look; your lips are getting all squishy looking—”

“It’s like you want me to turn this place into a crime scene and make these kind, decent people witnesses to a homicide,” Annabelle grumbled, picking the menu up. “Stop pressing your luck.”

“Sue me, Doc. I like walking on the wild side.” Graham stroked the inside of her wrist, and underneath the table, Annabelle’s leg jerked and hit the table top. Laughing softly to himself, Graham righted the silverware. “A bit jumpy tonight, are we?

“You are such a complete pain—”

Graham was saved a tongue lashing by the arrival of their server. “Good evening; my name is Sam. Please allow me to tell you about today’s specials…”

Annabelle ordered Singapore style fire-grilled pork jerky and the rainbow sushi platter while Graham decided on stir-fried salt and pepper calamari with broccoli, red chili flakes and spring onions over balsamic rice.

“We’re sharing,” she declared after oohing and aahing over the brightly colored sushi and the mouthwatering aroma of Graham’s dish when the food was delivered.

“I have no say?” Graham joked as he scooped up a forkful and fed Annabelle. “You know I got you, Doc.”

“Mmmm, that’s good.” Annabelle slowly chewed, doing a happy wiggle in her seat. “Smart choice, Mr. Carlton. I would have hated to be stingy with sharing certain things of mine as well. Have some sushi.”

“That’s cold, even for you, woman.” Graham picked up the chopsticks and expertly used them to grab a piece of yellowtail. “Now, that’s good sushi. I haven’t had it like this                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                       since I left Japan three years ago.”

“Was it for business or pleasure?” Images of beautiful Geisha girls tempting him irritated the hell out of Annabelle, causing her to viciously stab a succulent piece of calamari. “Tell me. I want to know everything there is to know about you, Graham. The happy, the sad, and the in between.”

“Are you going to return the favor?” Graham challenged her. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know. My story ain’t flowers and chocolate, but it’s me.”

She clasped her hand around his. “That’s good to know because I’ve been gifted with enough flowers wrapped in thorns and poison-filled chocolate that I should have been dead by now and would have been if it wasn’t for Edith.”

“Were you in love with Fowler?”

Annabelle looked out at the ocean, listening to the lull of the waves. “I now know that I was dazzled and fascinated by the idea of him. He was my first crush, and we didn’t move in the same circles. My family didn’t come from money like the Fowlers. It was a struggle to make ends meet with Gas ‘N’ Go, our family convenience store. When it belonged to my grandparents, the store turned a healthy profit, but times were simpler then. The convenience store was the only one for miles around. Then came the arrival of more stores with fancier gadgets and car washes that Gas ‘N’ Go couldn’t compete with.

My parents fought all the time. The lack of money caused a terrible strain in our household. My mother wanted to do upgrades in the store to compete, but my father was adamant in keeping everything as my grandad did. Not that it mattered because they weren’t approved by the bank for a loan anyway. She was very materialistic and tired of having to make do.” Annabelle gripped her chopsticks so hard, Graham thought they’d snap. Gently, he pried them from her fingers and set them aside.

“I love animals. Growing up, I had a hamster, then a puppy, goldfish, and finally, a garden snake. Animals are so simple; that’s what I love most about them. Shit doesn’t work out for them, they go about their business or kill one another. One or the other; it’s as simple as that. There’s no lingering and trying to hang on to shit that’s not working, draining all the energy out of each other, wasting their lives away only to find reprieve in death.

It was my love of animals that allowed me to escape my parents’ war zone. Farmer Jennings allowed me to help out at the farm with the animals, and he even recommended me to the animal hospital as a volunteer. He was a good man, and I miss him. I was so glad that the farm passed to Max because he’s just as passionate about Cinnamon Farms as his uncle was. Did you ever get to meet Mr. Walter?”

“Once and it was very brief. You weren’t even born yet. It was me and Eliza, our big sister,” Graham replied. “We came to stay for a brief time, and I liked it alright. But then we had to leave and go back to Las Vegas.”

“Is that where your homebase is? I remember how anxious Georgie was to leave Baymoor and go back to Las Vegas.”

“Nah; I left Vegas when I was eighteen and had no intentions of going back, but I returned earlier this year to help Georgie pack and get the hell up outta there for good,” Graham said cynically before changing the subject. “Continue your story, Doc.”

Annabelle skewered him with a look, warning Graham that she wouldn’t forget his evasiveness when it came to telling his story. “Between the farm, school, and the hospital, I was hardly at home, which is how I liked it. I loved my parents, but trying to keep the peace in the house was exhausting. I was so tired when I came home that I just crashed, missing out on all of the drama. I studied night and day, dreaming about graduating from high school and going away to college, far away from my parents. My dream was to become a veterinarian and eventually open my own practice

Annabelle’s expression became closed off. “I’d known Davis since I was in kindergarten and always had a crush on him. He caught my eye because he didn’t seem to have a care in the world. He was so handsome and confident in who he was. Davis had no worries or problems. Why should he? He was a Fowler, therefore, he had it made. It was understood that he would follow in his grandfather’s footsteps and take over the animal hospital when Brenton retired from the board, so it made sense for him to be at the hospital observing whenever he wasn’t off in his sports car or with a pretty girl on his arm.”

Graham steepled his fingers, pressing them tightly together, focusing on the pressure as he listened to Annabelle speak of Fowler. They both knew that Fowler was a piece of shit and that Doc was no longer enamored of the maggot, but it made Graham physically ill to discuss him with her, knowing what she’d suffered. He knew they were only skimming the surface.

“Growing up, I never had issues with my confidence or looks. I knew I didn’t look like a mainstream model nor would my size ever drop below two digits. I didn’t care about wearing makeup and could barely be bothered to style my hair in anything other than a ponytail. Do you get what I’m saying? I liked me for who I was, and I wanted Davis to notice and like me that way as well. I was determined not to change for anyone but myself.

So, I stopped wishing for him to notice me, and he finally did. I saved his ass in a play my junior year of high school, and after the play, Brenton invited me to have dinner at his home. Edith was horrible to me. At the time, I thought she hated me from the way she treated me, but I know better now. She was only trying to save me.” Annabelle’s rueful laugh was tinged with sadness. “If she only knew how stubborn and determined I was to prove that I could fit in. That’s where everything changed for me.”