Come To Me (Dare With Me Series Book 3)

by J. H. Croix

Daphne stopped beside me. “Yes. We’ve coordinated to deliver pre-made items. We don’t actually bake them, but the guys drop them off, and she bakes them. I just want to make sure the timing for delivery is working and that they’re turning out well.”

  “Does that mean I get to taste one of them for lunch?”

  She grinned. “Let’s hope so.”

  With a quick wave, she hopped in her car, and I followed her over to Misty Mountain. I was starting to realize I could get used to the small-town life. It felt good to be starting to make friends and to feel like I could belong here.

  My mother had called again this morning and got me thinking. My mother always got me thinking, bless her heart. She still struggled to understand how out of place I’d felt for so long. It was no one’s fault. My parents and my brother were academic stars. I was bright enough, but it had taken too long to figure out my dyslexia and my discomfort in school for me to ever really bounce back from that.

  Then came the nightmare of the one area where I had excelled in my life—sports—blowing up spectacularly. I still stayed in touch with a few friends from that time of my life, but our camaraderie and friendship had been stained by the actions of our coach. We’d never fully bounced back. Not to mention that not all of my friends shared the same thoughts about how it played out, which complicated feelings on all sides.

  When people read the news about respected figures doing inappropriate things, many people assumed that otherwise kind and decent people will be concerned. I learned the hard way that’s not how it worked. Some people refused to believe what happened no matter how much evidence there was. Some people blamed anyone who spoke up. The attention was intense and ugly. Even with the increased awareness in the media around these issues, things were still messy and complicated. There was always backlash.

  I sighed to myself in my car as I followed Daphne into the parking lot for Cammi’s new café. It was nice to be somewhere where everyone didn’t know the headlines about my old coach and the whispered secrets about what happened. Even though that was years in the rearview mirror, the effects were a boomerang for me with the new case.

  As I turned off my car, I gave myself a mental shake. I was going to live in the moment. In this moment, I was having lunch with a friend. A few minutes later, I was walking into the café with Daphne. Cammi waved from the counter ahead as she served a family at the front of the line. I glanced around, commenting, “This place is adorable.”

  “Isn’t it?” Daphne agreed. “I love how Cammi’s renovated it.”

  “I know she’s the new owner, but what happened to the old owners?”

  “I heard they moved,” Daphne explained. Her gaze arced about the space. “I still can’t believe they turned this old building into a café.”

  “These were left over from World War II, I think. There are more in the Pacific Northwest too,” I said, referencing the Quonset hut, in which this café was housed. The cylindrical steel tube-shaped structure had been renovated entirely inside. Windows were cut into the sides with sheet rock on the walls. The space had a bright, airy feeling.

  “I told Flynn we need to get some of this furniture from Jessa out at the resort,” Daphne added, gesturing as we walked by a small round table painted with a sunflower.

  “I think I met Jessa at the opening.”

  Daphne nodded as we got in line. “She has her work displayed at Midnight Sun Arts, that’s a gallery by the harbor. She sells it online too. I think it was a smart move for Cammi to coordinate with the gallery for the artwork here. It makes it mutually beneficial.”

  “Like your baked goods,” I offered with a grin.

  She chuckled. “Absolutely. It’s fun for me. I love to bake. Although it keeps me busy at the resort, my schedule isn’t really that insane because we never serve more than thirty people at a time.”

  I stared at her, my mouth falling open. “I can’t imagine cooking for thirty people, and I actually like to cook. You have my full respect.”

  She laughed. “I used to run a really busy restaurant in Atlanta, so thirty people seems very manageable.”

  “Oh, so you’re a former city girl too?”

  At that moment, we reached the front of the line. Cammi smiled between us as Daphne answered, “I sure am. Born and raised in Atlanta. What city did you fly away from?”

  “Portland, Oregon.”

  “Is my coffee good enough to compete there?” Cammi teased, picking up the thread of our conversation.

  “Absolutely,” I said. “You have mastered the art of coffee.”

  “Speaking of coffee,” Cammi began, “what can I get you ladies?”

  We ordered our coffees, and I got a sandwich along with one of Daphne’s dessert pastries. Before we stepped out of line to wait for our order at a table, Daphne commented to Cammi, “Maybe you can take a break to check in with me about how our schedule is working.”

  Cammi nodded quickly. “I can have Amy cover the counter, and I’ll join you ladies. I’m actually starving myself.”

  Moments later, I closed my eyes and let out a satisfied moan. Opening them after I finished chewing, I said, “This sandwich is incredible.”

  Daphne cast me a quick smile. “It is, isn’t it? This combination of a cranberry cream cheese spread with the pesto is better than I expected.”

  “Do you make these too?”

  “God, no. I can only do so much. Cammi and I reviewed the menu options together, but the sandwiches are all her.”

  Cammi appeared with her own plate with the very same sandwich we had each ordered. She sat down, glancing between us. “How was it?”

  “We were just marveling at how good it is,” Daphne offered as I nodded in agreement.

  Cammi looked relieved. “Thank goodness. I have to say when I took over this place, I was pretty stressed out about managing a kitchen. Fortunately, all of the staff stayed and they’re great.”

  “That makes a big difference. You got off to a running start, and you’re doing really well,” Daphne offered encouragingly.

  We enjoyed our sandwiches quietly for a few minutes before Daphne commented, “By the way, we miss Elias out at the resort.”

  Cammi’s cheeks went pink. “Do you? I heard he lost his bedroom.”

  “Of course, he did,” Daphne replied with a grin. “He’s never there because he’s with you all the time. Although we miss him, I’m really happy for both of you.”

  Daphne’s eyes shifted to me. “Now, tell us how things are going with Diego.”

  “Ummm…” I began. Heat creeped up my cheeks as I glanced between them. “Why do I get the feeling that you two know more than me about me and Diego?”

  Cammi, because she was nice and sweet, took pity on me and reached over to pat me lightly on the shoulder. “It’s okay. You have to get used to living in a small town. Whether you want it or not, people usually know things. We definitely don’t know more than you do though.”

  My cheeks were still hot when I managed something like a casual shrug. “Well, we were supposed to have dinner Friday, but his schedule changed, so I don’t know when we’ll see each other again.”

  Daphne’s eyes twinkled. “I’m sure he’ll reschedule that. Also, we don’t know much. All I know is Diego likes you, and the guys think you’re an exception.”

  “An exception?” I pressed.

  Daphne took a bite of her sandwich, making me wait. I didn’t think she was doing it on purpose, but still. Only something related to Diego could get me feeling this impatient. After she finished chewing and took a sip of water, she added, “Apparently, he hasn’t been serious with anyone since some girl he was engaged to when he was younger. That was over a decade ago.” She leaned forward, her eyes widening slightly.

  Curiosity pressed at me, and I decided I didn’t mind asking questions. If I was going to be the subject of gossip, I might as well gain as much information as I could. “What do the guys say? I know they’re a tight group. They were all in the Air Force together, right?�
��

  Daphne nodded in unison with Cammi. “Yep,” Cammi chimed in. “They’re like brothers. I don’t know that much. Just that Diego is known for keeping things casual with relationships. Elias said it was huge that he even introduced you to his sister.”

  As if on cue, the door to the café opened, and Harley came striding in. She stopped, glancing alertly around the café, her eyes landing on us at our table in the corner. With a flick of her dark hair over her shoulder, she strode directly to us.

  “Oh, God,” I said, keeping my voice low. “Harley seems really nice, but she also seems to have opinions, if you know what I mean. What if she secretly hates me?”

  Daphne gave me a warm smile. “No need to worry. We’ll protect you. If you have anything to worry about, it’s that Harley has an agenda to get Diego married. Flynn told me she’s even tried to set him up with a few of her friends.”

  Harley arrived beside us. “Hi, girls,” she said. “Rumor has it this place has the best coffee in town.”

  Cammi stood from the table, her now empty plate in hand. “Let’s hope the rumors are true. What can I get for you?”

  “You work here?” Harley returned.

  “I own it,” Cammi said, her cheeks flushing a little.

  “Hot damn. That’s freaking awesome,” Harley said as she followed Cammi up to the register.

  I caught Daphne’s eyes. “Do you think she wants to marry me off to Diego?” I was a little alarmed at the prospect, amazing orgasms notwithstanding.

  Daphne chuckled. “I have no idea. Harley has a strong personality. Just hold your ground. And, trust that Diego likes you, no matter what his sister thinks.”

  A few minutes later, Harley returned to the table with a coffee. After a long swallow, she looked between Daphne and me, announcing, “This is incredible coffee.”

  “Agreed,” I offered. “I’ve been to Seattle plenty of times, and it’s famous for its coffee. Cammi’s coffee could compete there, no problem.”

  Harley’s sharp gaze, so similar to Diego’s, shifted to me. “So, tell me what brought you to Alaska.”

  I breathed a silent sigh of relief. I could certainly handle this part of the conversation. “I won a trip here and decided that was a sign. I was looking for a change of pace, so here I am. I landed a job, which includes a lovely house where I take care of some horses. That helps me cover the bills, and I started my yoga studio.”

  Harley nodded approvingly. “Good plan. Now, how do you feel about my brother?”

  Daphne nudged Harley with her elbow. “Lighten up. This is only the second time you’ve met Gemma.”

  Harley, unabashed, shrugged. “So what? Consider it a screening.”

  I couldn’t help it, and I burst out laughing. “I’m being screened?” I asked when I stopped laughing.

  Harley actually looked a little sheepish this time. After a swallow of coffee, she explained, “Sorry. I guess I might be a little too forward about it. Diego got screwed over once before. I just want to make sure you’re on the up and up.”

  I held up a hand. “No need to worry, Harley. I know how to take care of myself, and I have no expectations. Plus, Diego and I have only gone on one official date. When you saw me at the resort, I was there to talk about doing yoga classes.”

  Harley shifted gears. “You’re not gonna give up that fast, are you? Trust me, my brother is totally a catch.”

  Daphne rolled her eyes. “You can’t have it both ways, Harley. Either you’re trying to chase her away, or persuade her to fall in love with your brother. Pick a lane and stay in it.”

  Harley laughed. “Okay, okay, maybe I’m being…” Her words trailed off as she appeared to reconsider.

  Daphne interjected helpfully, “A bit much?”

  I snorted a laugh at that, pushing my empty plate away. Harley cast Daphne a friendly glare. “Point taken.” She looked back toward me. “Diego is awesome. That is all. If you break his heart, I’ll kick your fucking ass.”

  “I don’t doubt it,” I said with a nod. Oddly enough, this interaction had warmed me to Harley. It was obvious she cared deeply for her brother, and I admired that. Family mattered to me, and it meant a lot to know Diego had family who loved and protected him.

  Conversation moved on to lighter matters, with a few people stopping by the table to say hello to Daphne. She deftly introduced me to more locals who might come to my yoga classes. Even better than that, maybe I would make more friends. I was all about that.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Gemma

  “Mom, I don’t know that I need to feel more free,” I offered as I adjusted the phone against my ear and stirred the pasta on the stove.

  “Honey, I’m just saying it’s a way to take back your part of the story. I hate how everything went back then. While I am absolutely furious that man was allowed to continue coaching and has since gone on to abuse other girls, I’m also relieved it’s all coming out now. The truth will set you free.”

  “Oh God,” I groaned. “Now we’re back to clichés.”

  My mother was undeterred. “Clichés become clichés for a reason. Because they make sense, and they can be meaningful. I couldn’t protect you from him before, and I wasn’t able to make sure he was held accountable. I think it might be empowering for you to be a part of this case.”

  “Mom, I already told you I’m thinking about it. Give me a little time to decide. There’s not a big rush. The attorneys on the case sent me a letter and let me know the schedule. The first hearing where I could even testify isn’t going to be for three months. If that. You’re the one who always tells me how waiting for court takes longer than watching paint dry. It’s highly possible it will get continued. I don’t have to decide right away.”

  “I know, I know. I just wish—”

  I cut in. “Mom, let this be something I figure out for myself. Please.”

  My mother was quiet, and I could practically visualize the disappointment crossing her face. She was the kind of person who charged at life, and I knew she wanted me to charge at this.

  “Okay, I will. Just know we’re there for you, one hundred percent.”

  “I know, Mom. Your support means so much. I need to go because I’m making lunch, and I need to drain the pasta. I’ll call you in a couple days, okay?”

  “Please do. Love you, dear.”

  “Love you too, Mom.”

  I had a respite from phone calls on uncomfortable and emotionally loaded topics while I ate my lunch before I headed in to my yoga studio for evening classes. I was looking forward to going out to the resort tomorrow for my first two yoga classes there. Daphne had texted me today to let me know the guest one was already full.

  After I rinsed my dishes and set them in the rack to dry, my phone rang. Glancing down, I didn’t recognize the number, but I recognized the Oregon area code, so I answered out of curiosity more than anything.

  “Hello?”

  “I’m looking for Gemma Marlon.”

  “This is her. How can I help you?”

  “Excellent,” the man said smoothly. “I’m Tom Johnson, and I’m an attorney working on the legal case involving Shawn Winston. You’re listed as a potential witness, and I was hoping we could speak to you.”

  “I’ve already said that I’d like some time to think about it and I’ll get back to you,” I said, trying to keep my tone firm.

  “To clarify, I don’t work for the DA’s office. We represent Mr. Winston. You were listed as someone whose testimony might be positive for our client. Your hesitation to be available for the prosecution speaks volumes.”

  My mouth fell open as shock slid through me. For a second, I was bewildered, thinking it was insane that they’d think any of his victims would testify for him. Anger and bitterness followed. I’d seen this kind of thing in the news, where they persuaded people to change their stories years later. I finally scrambled together enough sense to reply.

  “I don’t know what gave you the idea I would be willing to testify in
any way that would be supportive for your client. Absolutely not.”

  The attorney didn’t miss a beat. He replied smoothly, “Well, if you reconsider, please let us know. He is innocent of all charges, and we are hoping to present that case to the court and to the public. Please don’t hesitate to call.”

  “I won’t reconsider,” I said firmly.

  I hung up the phone and set it slowly on the counter before curling my arms around my waist and crossing the living room to look out the windows. I felt sick and cold, so cold.

  “The nerve!” I muttered to myself. “How do they even know I haven’t agreed to testify yet?”

  As I stared through the windows, my eyes landed on the horses, as they almost always did. Shasta had his chin resting on Charlie’s rump, something he did often. I took a breath and let it out slowly.

  Without thinking, I walked outside, crossing the parking area into the pasture. I walked through the barn and into the paddock area adjacent to the pasture. I fetched some treats out of a small sealed bucket that was mounted on the outer wall of the barn, immediately beside the door.

  The horses were smart. The minute they heard the sound of the bucket opening, their heads lifted and they jogged over.

  “Hey,” I said softly when they stopped outside the fence.

  I gave all four horses treats and took a few minutes to scratch between their ears. I let Shasta nuzzle my shoulder and felt myself calm down. Time with horses was grounding, and I was grateful I happened to be home when I got that strange call.

  After that, I climbed in my car and drove in to my studio, my mind spinning over what-ifs. The call from my former coach’s attorney solidified a decision for me. I would testify as a corroborating witness. Whether or not it would be freeing as my mother hoped, I absolutely was not going to be part of letting my former coach get away with something. I would do everything I could to make sure he was finally held accountable in a genuine, meaningful way.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Diego