Take a Chance on Me (Baymoor Book 3)

by D. A. Young

  “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 g
iving 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?