Page 89 of Seven Year Itch
“I don’t even know her,” I reply with a laugh.
Dakota’s face falls. “The five-orgasm woman wasn’t worth a second look?”
I shake my head. “It was years ago. A one-night stand with a woman in Denver. We never spoke again.”
“That’s sad. Why wouldn’t you even consider seeing her again if the sex was that good?”
“Because I don’t want to be in a relationship with anyone,” I answer firmly. “No matter how good the sex is.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t.” My voice takes on a sharper tone than I intended, but I’m trying to be clear.
She watches me intently for a moment. “What is it that makes you so certain you don’t want a relationship? I’m not asking for myself, I’m just asking for research. Did this Robyn person really mess with you?”
“No... Jesus. You’re breaking the damn rules right now. We’re not supposed to be talking about our past relationships.”
She shrugs. “I like to know things.”
I take a moment and exhale. “I’m not serious enough to be serious with anyone.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Just ask my family. I’m the one always screwing things up, causing problems, ruffling feathers. I couldn’t ever provide for a wife and kids either. My entire life is by default.”
“What does that mean?”
“My job? Got it because of my dad. My house? Got it because of Wyatt. My best friends? They’re my brothers. They are genetically forced to hang with me.”
Dakota frowns over at me. “That’s a sad way to look at your life.”
It’s not sad when it’s accurate and confirmed by everyone around me. Even Dakota would agree as she’s the one who pegged me with the Killer Calder nickname.
“How would you look at it?” I ask, frowning over at her.
“You live in a beautiful cabin on a secluded mountain with people you actually like, and you get to work with your best friends every day, and you have a cat who watches us have sex.”
“I know, but I didn’t earn any of it. Even Milkshake was kind of forced on me by Trista.”
“So then, do something on your own. Something you can earn without anyone else.”
“How?”
“What do you want to do with your life? What’s your dream job?”
I laugh and shake my head. “It doesn’t matter. I’m locked into the family business.”
“So? You can have a side gig.”
“No, I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because there’s no time. Wyatt has us building smart houses all over town, and I’m the trained monkey that does all the grunt work, so I put up or shut up. My brothers would laugh in my face if I tried to tell them I wanted to break out on my own. And my mom would be heartbroken if I abandoned the legacy my father left behind.”
She remains quiet for a moment, watching me speculatively. “But isn’t that pile of gorgeous furniture in your workshop kind of your father’s legacy as well?”
The impact of her words hits me right in my gut. I’m actually shocked that she’s tied that hobby of mine so closely to my dad. I know I revealed a fair amount to her that day in my shop, but I didn’t really share everything.
