Davenport Harbor (Six Degrees Book 3)

by Statham, Mayra

  We stopped at another booth that had hand-made fairy costumes, and I bought Zoey a multi pastel-hued set of fairy wings and a matching tutu. I bought Anne a wreath of flowers with a bunch of brightly colored ribbons that cascaded down in the back and a fairy wand. I liked the way her face softened when I picked them out, insisting every little girl needed to be able to play dress-up with her mom. I liked being able to give her that because the look she gave me was even better than before.

  We watched a quartet of four high-school-aged kids play cover songs and threw cash into the guitar case that was available for tips. Mike messaged me that they wouldn’t be able to make it after all; something about Mark’s baseball game going extra innings.

  Anne and I shared a funnel cake as we sat at an open bench and watched people walk past us. By this time, the heat and night had made Zoey sleepy. Anne’s head was on my shoulder, Zoey was asleep in her stroller on the other side of me, and I was more than content. I was happy.

  Anne moved her head, her hazel eyes warm and sweet. “You okay?”

  “Better than okay.” I kissed her and brought my cell phone out to take a picture of us together sitting on that bench. Not that I needed to record the memory. The memory would be embossed into my soul till the day I died.

  ***

  “Thank you for taking us tonight,” she said as I watched her place two huge bouquets of flowers I’d insisted on purchasing onto the countertop in the kitchen.

  “It was my pleasure. We should go out more often.”

  “John.”

  “You are always safe with me, Kitten,” I vowed and she smiled at me. Trying to lighten the mood, I smiled back at her. “Now kiss me, I have to get a little work done before I can go to bed.”

  I liked the blush that went over her soft skin when I ordered her to kiss or touch me. My body hardened as I watched her walk to me. Impatient, I went to her, meeting her in the middle, and kissed her.

  ***

  An hour and a half later, still staring at the computer, I pressed ‘send’ on the last e-mail that had to be taken care of tonight. A knock on the door made me look up and smile.

  The face of all of my fantasies appeared, and I couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her in one of the many new silk nightgowns I’d bought for her and that she had hesitantly accepted. In an emerald-green long, silk nightgown with a plunging V-neck, her skin looked creamy. Her hair was damp from a shower.

  “I just wanted to check if you are almost ready to come to bed.”

  “Come here, Kitten.”

  She walked to me and like we have done so many other times during the last two weeks, she sat on my lap, her head curling into my neck.

  “Did you have fun?”

  “Yeah,” she sighed happily, and I smiled, breathing in the scent of her freshly washed hair.

  “We should do that again.”

  “Yeah. It was a really nice date,” she said and I laughed.

  “That wasn’t a date.” I felt her body stiffen against mine.

  “Oh.” That one simple word was filled with disappointment, and I realized that I was not as smooth as I thought I was.

  “Let’s go on a date,” I suggested, hoping she’d agree.

  “You don’t have to do that."

  “I want to.” That wasn’t a lie. I just didn’t know what the hell was coming over me.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah,” I answered, ignoring the weird pace my heart started to beat at.

  “What about Zoey?”

  “Sabrina and Mike would love to watch her.” I knew without a doubt they would. I looked into her beautiful doe eyes, something that looked almost hopeful. I couldn’t stop myself. I dug myself deeper into a hole, wanting to give her more so that she would continue to look at me like that.

  “I’ll plan it all. Let me surprise you. Sound okay?” The smile that she gave me was worth all the nerve-racking stress this was going to cause.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  John

  A date?

  What the fuck had I been thinking? Sure, I'd taken plenty of women out to dinner. It was just to have someone sit across from me, someone to enjoy a meal with, and then to fuck afterwards. But a real date? When was the last time I’d done that? Had I ever? A night I actually put thought and effort into for the sole purpose of making a woman happy? And this wasn’t just any woman. It was Anne.

  My Anne.

  Staring out the window of my office, I watched the city below alive and moving. At my age, I knew what I had to do. I needed help. But not just any help. I wanted to wow my kitten. Mike and his stupid ideas wouldn’t work. Not this time. This time, I needed a professional of sorts. Before I could talk myself out of this, I grabbed a file from my desk and called Bernadette to come to my office.

  “Yes, Mr. Davenport?”

  “Please sit, Bernadette.”

  “Birdie, sir.” She always insisted I call her by that silly nickname, but I still refused. I looked at her, tapping my fingers on my desk nervously, and she tilted her head, clearly wondering what I was up to.

  “Bernadette, how many people have we hired together since you started working for me?”

  “Five, Mr. Davenport,” she efficiently answered me.

  “Right. And you have helped me with each one of those, right?”

  “Yes,” her eyes narrowed.

  “So you know the in-depth background checks that I do on each new employee?” Her back straightened, confusion and slight worry marring her green eyes behind those ugly thick glasses.

  “Yes, sir,” she murmured.

  “So you have to know that I did one on you, yes?”

  “I told you about Vikki,” her eyes widened and I shook my head.

  “That's not what I am talking about.” Putting my hand out, I bit away a smile as I handed her the file my private investigator had created on my excruciatingly productive assistant. How she had time to do what she did after hours was beyond me. It was actually rather admirable. I watched as she opened the file, her cheeks brightening and her eyes closing. Her head slumped forward slightly, and I wondered why she seemed to be embarrassed.

  “Carrick almost didn’t find that.” I pointed to the file in her hands.

  “Mr. Davenport, please let me explain.”

  “Bernadette, you really don’t have to.” I shook my head. “Or should I call you Sophie Samuels?” I asked her and she looked up at me, and for the first time I couldn’t seem to read her. “I’m actually very impressed. How do you get so much done? You work eight, sometimes up to twelve hours here, and in the short time you’ve been here, you’ve published three books.”

  “Oh… well…”

  “And from what I understand, they sell very well. You have a very good following.”

  “Yes, well.”

  “Look, Bernadette, the only reason I brought this up is,” I cleared my throat, “I need your help.”

  “My help?” She asked, frowning, and I could feel myself start to get defensive.

  “I need an expert so to speak. I’m not what you can call a romantic man.”

  “Okay.” Her face was slightly frowning.

  “I want to take Anne on date,” I announced nervously.

  “Oh.” If I weren’t feeling so self-conscious, I would have thought the look on her face was amused to say the least.

  “I want it to be...” I frowned, not knowing the exact word I wanted to use. Impressive? Fun?

  “Special?” Bernadette snapped me back into reality. Yes, special, that is exactly what I was thinking.

  “Yes.”

  “What did you have in mind?”

  “A boat ride.” Her eyes widened. I could tell she thought it was a bad idea.

  “She might get seasick. What else?”

  “Crowds make her nervous, so maybe getting a restaurant to close down?”

  “No,” she blurted out and bit her lip before asking, “Can I have permission to talk freely, Mr. Davenport?” Running my fin
gers through my hair, I nodded and leaned further into my leather chair.

  “Anne wouldn’t like you flashing your money at her.”

  “It’s not like—”

  “To her, that’s exactly what it would be like,” she interrupted me, and I couldn’t help the scowl that fell over my face, anxiousness filling every pore.

  “Ugh,” I growled, feeling like I was about to pull my hair out. My only two ideas were unoriginal and lame according to the little romance author in front of me.

  “See, Anne. She’s had it difficult in the past…”

  “Has she told you about…?” I started to ask and she shook her head.

  “No. I can see it and she has alluded to it. She doesn’t want to get lost again.”

  “I’m not trying to have her be anyone but herself,” I bit out and could see Bernadette’s lips twitch.

  “I know. I think… well from the sound of it, you want to impress her.”

  “Yes. More than anything,” I admitted more to myself than to her.

  “You don’t have to spend a lot of money to do that. She isn’t like that. All women want is to know that you have put thought into the night. Maybe something about the way you met or the first meal you shared.” Bernadette kept talking, but I’d stopped listening.

  A light bulb had turned on and I knew exactly what to do.

  Chapter Twenty- Seven

  Anne

  Sabrina had shown up right before lunch to come get Zoey and had told me that we could pick her up the next day. Before leaving, she handed me bright yellow shopping bags, smiled as she hugged me, and whispered, "Have fun."

  I was in John’s room that he had somehow talked me into sharing with him and I looked at the girl in the mirror. She was different from the girl that used to stare back at me. She stood straighter. Her skin had a happy glow and not one bruise on it. Shaking my head to get rid of the old memories, I took a deep breath and got ready.

  ***

  When John walked into the kitchen where I’d been drinking a glass of iced tea, I couldn’t help checking him out. Dressed in a clean, crisp light-grey dress shirt, the top two buttons undone, his sleeves rolled up his forearms, paired with black dress pants and brown Italian loafers, he looked yummy. His handsome face had a stubble-covered jaw. His eyes were on me, taking me in, and by the expression on his face, he wasn’t disappointed.

  “You look beautiful.” His deep voice made me shiver.

  “Thank you.” My hair was down in soft curls, my make-up light with only a little eye shadow, blush, and lip gloss. It was the outfit he’d picked out for me that made me feel beautiful and sexy. Another sundress. This one was a solid royal blue with a heart-shaped halter top that was fitted to my waist and flared out over my legs. It had matching lace trim on the bottom and was beyond beautiful. It looked like something a 1950’s starlet might have worn.

  “Thank you for the dress.”

  “It looks like the designer made it with you in mind. You look exquisite, Kitten.” His voice was sincere. I let my white-wedged-sandaled feet take me to him. I wrapped my arms around his neck and he looked at me.

  “Sabrina picked up Zoey.”

  “I know.”

  “She said we could pick her up tomorrow.” His lips twitched, but it was his dark eyes that gave him away. They somehow sparkled with amusement.

  “I know that, too. You ready?” He asked and I smiled, nodding like a fool with excitement and wondering what he might have up his sleeve.

  John

  Kissing her softer than I wanted to, I pulled away and we walked to the front door before I could change my mind and make her go back upstairs so she’d put on everything I’d had sent over from the boutique.

  I took her hand as we started to walk. She looked at me with curious eyes as we walked past my car and the garage that held my other vehicles, but she didn’t ask anything. The night was cooling down perfectly, and a small breeze was blowing.

  “I wanted our first date to be special. Something you would remember.” Because I want this to be your last first date. The thought made me nervous.

  “John.”

  “I also wanted to do something that would make you comfortable. So if you could please close your eyes, I promise not to lead you into any trees.” I smiled at her and she closed her eyes, her hand in mine. The trust she handed over to me was stunning and left me feeling like Tarzan in the jungle, ready to beat on my chest, like I’d conquered or completed some massive feat.

  “We are almost there,” I told her as we got closer to the spot in the road where we first met. Everything was perfectly set up. I looked at it and hoped that Bernadette was right about this. “Open your eyes, Kitten, we’re here.”

  “Here?” She asked, her voice amused. I watched her the entire time as she slowly opened her eyes and blinked slightly. Her pretty lips parted into a perfect O, her eyes widened, but it wasn’t until she gave me that smile, the one I loved, that I knew.

  “John.”

  “Thought I’d get us to create a new memory in the spot where we first met,” I told her, and her laughter was infectious as she leaned her soft, sweet smelling body into mine.

  “This is amazing! How did you set this up?” She asked as she looked at the side of the road where only a few short months ago, I’d pulled up to help her with a flat tire. Now, instead of it being filled with mud and wild grass, the spot had been transformed with a cast iron bistro table, two chairs, and a small vase filled with brightly hued Gerber daisies with sunflowers mixed in.

  “The how doesn’t matter. Eat with me?” I asked her and she shyly nodded. She looked at me as I pulled the chair for her. Her eyes wide and happy, she kissed me before we started eating.

  When we had been getting to know one another over breakfast the first two months in my kitchen, she’d mentioned foods that she loved. Every information she’d shared with me, I’d meticulously stored away. This was another first for me when it came to a woman. I just didn’t realize it at the time, or maybe I did and just didn’t want to admit it.

  We sat and talked. I loved the way she looked so at ease with me. As the sun started to set, I lit the candles in the mason jars that were hanging in the trees that surrounded us.

  “This is so beautiful.” Her voice was filled with wonder, “Thank you.”

  “I just wanted to make you smile, Anne.” Even in the soft lighting I could see the slight way she blushed and put my hand on hers.

  “Ready for dessert?” I stood and went to the small side table just as loud thunder hit the sky and I looked up. Big fat droplets of water started to fall around us and I felt like a complete idiot for not having thought about checking the weather report.

  Anne

  I watched his strong body slightly slump as the raindrops started to fall over us and looked up. Dark clouds were everywhere. I wondered how I had not noticed a storm rolling in. I knew how. John. John was very distracting.

  “Are you kidding me?” He growled, his face was now serious and slightly angry. I knew he wasn’t mad at me. He wanted to plan the perfect date and he had, so I had an idea. One that was crazy and slightly cheesy, but still made excitement rush through me.

  “Dance with me.” I smiled at him, and his frown deepened. I watched him as he got even wetter.

  “It’s raining, Anne. We should—”

  “Dance with me, John.” I repeated, trying not to smile and failing. The water felt great. Huge, cold droplets fell on my skin. I extended my arm to him. “I’ve always wanted to dance in the rain. Please, John?”

  “This was supposed to be the perfect first date.” His head turned to the now ruined dessert on the table and the candles being extinguished one by one by droplets of water.

  “It is. I’ve never kissed anyone in the rain,” I shared, and his head turned quickly to me.

  “What?”

  “I’ve always thought it could be the most romantic thing in the world. To kiss and dance with someone in the rain.” His lips twitc
hed as he shook his head. I watched his stony expression fade away into a smile. He looked up at the sky, smiling, raindrops making his dress shirt stick to his body and his hair slick. His head turned to look at me, and the way he took me in made me want to squirm under his scorching gaze. He walked towards me, closing the space between us, his hand moving to my lower back to right above the swell of my ass. His head leaned down until our foreheads touched and his free hand caressed my cheek. He slowly started to sway us back and forth, my hand on his shoulder and my cheek over his chest. The comforting, steady beat of his heart and the rhythm of the silent song we were dancing to in the now soft drizzle cocooned us in its embrace.

  He surprised me by spinning me slowly, making my now soaked skirt whirl around me. Our laughter filled the air as we started to play, our dancing becoming silly and fun. I twirled, shaking my hips, and felt him stop moving. I didn’t know how I could feel his eyes on my skin, but I did. Instead of being embarrassed, I kept dancing and smiling. Almost dizzy with happiness, I stopped. Our eyes met for a mere second before he started to move quickly towards me, then smoothly picked me up without slowing down. My legs and arms wrapped around him, our mouths crashing down onto one another’s. My hands were in his wet hair as the rain started to pour down faster, the drizzle growing into thicker drops as if spurred on by our passion and need. He brought us down to the ground. His body was under mine, on the dirt that was now mud. The rain was hitting our bodies. Need rushed like a heavy storm through us.

  “Please,” I whispered, though there was no need to. We were alone here.

  “Lift,” he directed sternly, and I smiled against his lips, lifting up, feeling him undo his pants, then bringing his thick erection out of the confines of his pants. I fought with the buttons of his dress shirt, undoing as many as I could to have access to his bare skin. I felt his hands move steadily up my thighs, then pull the thin black lace of the thong he’d sent with the dress to the side. Our eyes met like they always did right before we joined, my body lowering as his went up, meeting in the middle. The sweet smells of rain and earth mixed with the sound of us as we made love hard and fast.