Take a Chance on Me (Baymoor Book 3)

by D. A. Young

  Marcus Barnes rubbed his bony hands together and adjusted his bow tie, preparing to come forward and claim his lunch date and basket.

  “Twenty-five hundred dollars!” Graham announced, halting Marcus’s procession to the stage.

  Annabelle was light-headed with relief, and her knees threatened to give out on her.

  From inside the tent, Reverend Armisha squawked, “But I had plans for that young ‘un!”

  “I have twenty-five-hundred dollars! Going once? Going twice??” Mrs. Laurent pointed at Marcus, who stepped back into the crowd with a fulminating glare at Graham.

  “The basket is sold to the gentleman in the back! Graham Carlton, come forward and claim your prize!”

  No one could hold a candle to him, Annabelle thought proudly, watching the crowd part to reveal Graham in a black slim-cut suit with a burgundy, silver, and black paisley print tie and black Capote dress shoes. She watched him assess and dismiss the other men present as he came forward, holding his hand out to her. Annabelle loved that even though he knew she belonged to him, heart and soul, Graham still treated her like he’d been given the grandest prize in the world.

  Annabelle placed hers in his, and he bent over it and kissed it before tucking her arm through his, taking the basket from her with his other hand, and escorting her down the pavilion steps.

  “Thanks for taking your sweet time. I just want you to know I died a thousand deaths waiting on you,” she said with a practiced smile for the crowd. She listened to him accept envious well-wishes from other bidders as they navigated the crowd to where large bales of hay were covered in traditional red and white checkered picnic blankets for the basket recipients and their companions to enjoy. Despite it being a chilly afternoon, everyone was kept warm by the outdoor heaters. The afternoon sun was setting, but the twinkling lights strung throughout the square were doing their job nicely and casting a cozy, romantic aura.

  “You deserve it,” Graham bluntly replied. “I should have let that Wile E. Coyote clown get his paws on you. You got all dressed up, showing my curves to the world? You’re crazy as hell for this one, Doc.”

  See? It wasn’t just her! Annabelle felt validated by her observation of Marcus. With a pout, she challenged him, “You would do me like that? It might just be your bad. I heard he’s a playa from the Himalayas.”

  With a snort, Graham shot her a derisive look. “I bet dude kisses like a mama bird regurgitating food. Play with me if you want to, Doc, but I’ll cut you off so hard, I promise it’ll be like we never even met. I shoulda let your spoiled behind go with him too. It’d serve your ass right.”

  “No!” Annabelle clung to his arm and leaned against his arm, twining their fingers together. “You aren’t leaving me, Mr. Carlton.”

  “Damn straight I’m not, Doc. Now that we got that outta the way, why the fuck would you participate in this if you’re taken?” Graham shook his hand free of hers to slide his arm around her hips possessively so every dickhead present understood that she was his queen.

  “You’ve met the Spring Chickens, haven’t you? I tried to outsmart them and wound up playing myself. That’s all I’m going to say, so don’t ask.”

  “Don’t tell. I’m beginning to get the not-so-pretty picture you’re painting.” Graham lead her to a secluded bale of hay and waited until Annabelle sat down to put the basket between them before they explored its contents. She pulled out a bottle of wine and the two long-stemmed glasses and then a long wooden flat board as Graham removed small bowls.

  “Did you make this basket?” Annabelle watched with suspicion as Graham removed the lids and artfully arranged a charcuterie board with cheese, sliced steak, and crispy round appetizers. “Oooh, what are those?”

  “I did make this basket because my sisters obviously have a twisted sense of humor, and you were clearly in need of rescuing.” Graham pointed to the food. “Chicken-Portobello meatballs rolled in salt and pepper potato chips, grilled rib eye, cambozola cheese. It’s a combination of a French soft-ripened cheese and Italian gorgonzola. Eat it with the ribeye and you’ll love me forever.”

  Carefully, Annabelle set the wine bottle and glasses aside and leaned over to kiss him sweetly, applying just enough heat to make Graham growl against her lips. When they broke apart, Annabelle wiped her lip gloss from his mouth with her thumb. “Trust me, Mr. Carlton. I already do.”

  Graham reached for the bottle of wine, and Annabelle watched as he applied the corkscrew and smoothly opened the bottle. “Normally, this is the part where I’d insist you show it by showering me with sexual favors, but in this case, I’ll settle for your understanding my point of view.”

  Annabelle held the glasses as he poured the wine. “When did I say I didn’t? I do understand. It was never about me not understanding. It’s about me not having any limitations.” She handed him a glass of wine and let her eyes run over him appraisingly. “You are it for me, Graham Carlton. There’s not a single thing that I don’t adore about you. Your heart, kindness and generosity, and the fact that you don’t need to wear a paper bag over your head makes you a straight royal flush, babe. I trust you with not only my life but Rory’s as well. But the only time I’ll let you dictate what I can or can’t do without questioning your sanity is when we’re naked. I already said I ride for you like you ride for me, so you should never have to question my loyalty.”

  Her praise eased the ache in his heart over their disagreement. Graham smirked and seeing that cocky, sexy grin made Annabelle’s stomach dip crazily as he rubbed his beard with those long-tapered fingers and considered her. “Is it that good to you, love?”

  She flipped her hair over her shoulders and clinked her glass with his. “Boy, stop it! You know it’s good enough to keep me thirsty, hungry, and ready for you at all times, whenever and wherever, Sir. But I digress. I think you should know that Ingrid said some things to me that I feel are important to share with you.”

  Annabelle’s earnest expression was too hard for Graham to resist. “Alright. But after that, I want to just concentrate on having a good time with my woman and the rustic cherry tarts I made for dessert.”

  “Lawd, thank you for this man.”

  ***

  Ingrid discreetly watched the activities from the corner of the Comfort Table Café’s front window where she was wiping down the picnic style tables. She could make out Graham and Annabelle if she squinted her eyes hard enough. They seemed to have made up and were having a great time talking, laughing, and feeding one another. Graham looked relaxed and also like a man very much in love. Nothing like when he’d threatened to end her life.

  “How’s everything going, Ingrid?” It was Val with her professional friendly mask in place that Ingrid had come to dislike. There was a time when she’d looked up to and adored Valerie. She’d been there since the beginning and watched Nate and Val fall in love. In those days, she was cherished by the both of them as Val adopted Ingrid as her little sister. Nowadays, after reading her the riot act at the motel, Val was pleasant to her but kept it moving, and that’s all Ingrid could hope for.

  “It’s going good, Val. I’m just finishing up then plan on restocking the bathroom before clocking out. Is that okay? If not, I can stick around for awhile longer…”

  “No need to. It’s not too late for you to get out and enjoy what’s left of the day.”

  “Hey, Ingrid! Girl, you know I like it when you wear your hair down!” Chandra was with Val, and she already had her warm smile ready for Ingrid, who soaked it up like sunshine. Chandra was just like that. She bore no grudges and was quick with a smile or good word for everyone.

  “Thank you, Chandra.”

  The women left Ingrid to peer out the window. “Chandra, would you look at the two of them? They’re just so cute together! I predict a spring wedding.”

  “I hope so, and I pray that her daughter will be here as well. It tore me up to hear Annabelle say she didn’t want anything to do with her parents. Poor thing. I don’t know what happened
between them, but Thomas and Samantha better get their shiggidy together before they’re left on the outside looking in forever. I tried calling over there, but Samantha keeps saying she doesn’t want to talk. She’s been in an awful state since Annabelle left. I think she’s increased her drinking and she and Thomas might be separating.”

  “Say it isn’t so, Chan,” Val clucked sympathetically. “Annabelle is a phenomenal woman, and if Samantha and Thomas don’t get their acts together, they’ll be missing out on life’s best moments.”

  “Amen, Val. Now, how is Camille doing with her piano lessons? I’m going to suggest to Annabelle that Rory take them too when she’s older.”

  The two women drifted away, oblivious to Ingrid listening to their conversation.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Cocooned in his suit jacket, Annabelle nestled into Graham and laughed as he finished recounting a trip he’d taken to Marrakesh. “You’ve got the best stories, Mr. Carlton. Do you plan to do any more traveling?”

  “Not without my girls. We go as a family, and the intel work I do can be done from anywhere. Until I saw you, I never had a desire to stay in one spot.”

  “Do you mean in Furla?” Annabelle was puzzled by his answer.

  “Nope. I mean here in Baymoor when I first saw your picture that Kenya gave me. I knew months before physically seeing you that here was where I wanted to be with you,” Graham confessed.

  Annabelle waved her hands at her eyes. “Please don’t make me cry, Mr. Carlton. You know I’m an ugly crier!”

  Graham’s chest rumbled with laughter under Annabelle’s cheek. “Home is wherever you are, Annabelle.”

  “Likewise. I’m going to miss Furla. It’s the only home Rory’s ever known.”

  Graham kissed her forehead. “We don’t have to stay gone forever, Doc. Who says we can’t visit? When it’s winter here, we’ll go there for summer.”

  “Are you crazy?! I’ve missed fall and winter weather and all of the festivities that come with it. There really is no place like Baymoor, and Rory’s never even seen snow.”

  “Whatever you want, woman.”

  Annabelle titled her head back, and Graham rewarded her with a lingering kiss. “Thank you, baby.”

  “Betty, Hank, and the rest of the Easy Steppers have been showing out and monopolizing the dance floor for the last hour.” Graham eased Annabelle forward and stood up with his hand held out. “I say we give ‘em a run for their money, Doc.”

  “Only if you bring you’re A-game, Mr. Carlton.”

  The award-winning dance group was cutting a rug as the dee-jay slipped on some Ray Charles when Graham and Annabelle joined them, followed by Max and Georgie, then Wade and Camille.

  You know the night time, darling

  (night and day)

  Is the right time

  (night and day)

  To be

  (night and day)

  With the one you love, now

  (night and day)

  Graham winked at Annabelle before spinning her out smoothly. Damn, his baby was badass. They fell into an effortless rhythm, in sync with each other’s moves, and just enjoying themselves as Annabelle allowed Graham to lead them.

  I know the night time

  (night and day)

  Every day is the right time

  (night and day)

  Yeah to be with the one you love now

  (night and day)

  One song turned into three more before the dee-jay slowed it down to Alicia Keys’ “Fallin”. Abruptly, Annabelle stopped dancing and walked away with no explanation to Graham.

  He came up behind her by their bale of hay, her hands covering her face. “Wanna tell me what that was all about, Annabelle?”

  Back still to him, Annabelle’s voice was inaudible, making Graham lean forward. “Say it again. Only this time turn around and face me. You don’t get to run from me, the man who loves you! Now, Turn. Around.”

  “I can’t dance to this or even listen to it! Not now or ever again!” Annabelle cried, spinning to face him. “You don’t understand—”

  Graham opened up his arms, and after a brief hesitation, Annabelle moved into them, grateful for the stability, comfort, and security Graham’s embrace provided.

  She looked up at him beseechingly. “I’m sorry for leaving you like that, but I’ve always hated this song.”

  Because of Fowler, Graham knew, but he refused to ruin their time together, so he’d do the next best thing.

  “That’s because you never danced to it with me,” Graham drawled with an easy confident smile that betrayed none of his fury as he began to sway to the beat of the song and crooned the words to her. His hand splayed low on her back, pressing her in so Annabelle’s body was shaped to his, leaving her no choice but to move with him.

  Graham observed the way her eyes grew wide and those luscious lips parted in surprise at how well their bodies molded together perfectly, but he wasn’t surprised in the least. Graham raised an eyebrow in silent inquiry when she continued to stare at him, and Annabelle quickly averted her head. But not before Graham saw her mouth curve into that seductive half-smile that stirred his soul…along with something else.

  But what else was new?

  ***

  Jabs and crosses, sitting punches, and knee crosses.

  It was midnight, and Graham was back at it and still frustrated as a motherfucker. Except this time, in the privacy of his own suite, going at the punching bag, bare-knuckle style and mixing it up with kickboxing. It still wasn’t enough. Nothing would be enough until that bitch was dead. Fowler hovered over them like a dark cloud, but Graham was done with it. Tomorrow, he was going to get Rory and Edith, bring them back, and they’d continue with their lives.

  Thump! Thump! Thump!

  Then there was Annabelle with her curves and sweet kisses. Graham could still feel her imprinted on him, and it was fucking hard as shit to keep going like this when his dick refused to let him be. Sex and violence. He needed them both in his life right now, craved the release they’d both give him, but again, Graham would have to settle for a cold shower and rubbing one out.

  He stripped and hit the shower, allowing the icy pellets to attack his flesh and divert his attention and wrapped his hand around his extended length and sought comfort for his boy.

  Nothing.

  “Fuuuuck!” Graham banged his fist against the marble wall and for a moment, his attention was diverted by the numbness in his hand. He grabbed the loofah sponge and washed up, preparing for another sleepless night.

  When Graham exited the bathroom naked, he was stunned to find Annabelle sitting demurely with her legs crossed on the edge of his bed. His mouth dried up like sandpaper at her ensemble, consisting of her white lab coat, stethoscope, pumps from earlier, and nothing else. Annabelle surveyed him through her lashes, twirling the stethoscope dangling between her bountiful breasts as she uncrossed her legs, giving him a peep show of his pretty little pussy before standing up.

  In a sultry voice, she said, “It’s a good thing I came. It sounds like my services are sorely needed.” Her eyes lowered to his erection that was straining for Annabelle’s attention, and she murmured, “I’ve got just the remedy for that, Mr. Carlton.”

  “How’d you get in here, and what the hell are you wearing?”

  Annabelle dropped the seductress act to reassure him, “Oh, don’t worry, baby! The coat and equipment just arrived today, and I thought I’d break them in with you before I wore them to work. Georgie gave me her key, and Eliza gave me the access code to this floor. You should have seen Forenzo’s face when I arrived in my trench coat.”

  She reached for him, but Graham held up a hand, stopping her. “Pump your breaks, Nurse Naughty. If you stay, there’s no bouncing between here and Georgie’s house. So, what’s it gonna be?”

  Annabelle shrugged out of her lab coat. “My goal tonight was getting the good-good.” She gave him a saucy wink. “I’m not leaving till I do, but considering once wou
ld never be enough for me, I guess I’m staying. Where do you want me, Mr. Carlton?”

  So fucking breathtaking. Her sable complexion was silky smooth everywhere, from her strong, arresting facial features to the curves, hills, and valleys of her body.

  “Let’s start with the bed, Doc. Sit on the edge. How do you want it?”

  Indestructible. That was the adjective that came to Annabelle’s mind because that’s the kind of intimacy she and Graham shared. He treated her like a delicate flower everywhere but in bed. When it came to sex, Graham flipped the script and fucked Annabelle like she was unbreakable. Especially when it came to doggy-style. He wasn’t satisfied with just her ass rippling in the air. No, her man didn’t stop until he damn near had her doing the kick-worm.

  “Surprise me.” Annabelle pointed upward. “This skylight is ridiculous! Did you know that Georgie has one just like it in her bedroom? It’s like the moon is hovering right above you.”

  Like Graham had predicted, Max was keeping his baby sis happy. “We can discuss that shit later, Doc. Get your ass on the bed.”

  Graham didn’t follow Annabelle to the bed. He tortured himself by watching the lush globes of her ass bounce and her hips dip side to side as she sashayed to the bed in those pumps to do his bidding. She sat with an expectant look and crooked her finger at him to come hither.

  Annabelle was fixated on his length as it bobbed, hypnotizing her the closer he came until it was in her face. She reached for it, but Graham knocked her hands out of the way and dropped to his knees so they were eye-level. “Not so fast, grabby hands.”

  Carefully, he adjusted the stethoscope so that the ears tips were now in place and held the diaphragm to her chest. Annabelle was surrounded by the pulsating beat of her heart, and with a diabolical grin, Graham yanked her forward and pushed her legs back until her knees met her chest. As he reacquainted himself with his pussy, Annabelle could not only feel but hear the insanity of how he resurrected her body. Gasping for air and with tears of pleasure seeping from the corners of her eyes, Annabelle gave herself up to the decadent madness of Graham Carlton’s loving under the moon’s watchful eyes.