Calder & Lacroix: a Risking the Shot bonus scene
Remember in Risking the Shot when Dakota told Calder to invite Lacroix to his birthday dinner? It was as they were meeting the real estate agent at the site of their future bakery. Well, this scene below occurs only a few hours after Dakota and Calder returned home.
SPOILERS ABOUND!
If you haven’t read Risking the Shot yet, turn away! This bonus scene occurs near the end of the novel. You will be spoiling yourself if you haven’t read the book. You’ve been warned.
This bonus short story is about 2,500 words, or seven PDF pages. Read it below or download it to your ereader to read later.
Calder & Lacroix
When Evan Lacroix was seventeen years old, his aunt Delilah pointed her finger at the sky and told him that when he found The One, it would be love at first sight.
Evan hadn’t believed her then, and he didn’t believe her now, eighteen years later.
He didn’t believe her when she told his sister that she’d meet her soulmate while studying abroad, which she had.
He didn’t believe her when she told a cousin that he’d one day marry his long-time friend, and he did.
He didn’t believe her when she told a family friend that the coworker she hated would one day propose, which he did.
Love at first sight didn’t exist. Lust at first sight? Sure. Attraction at first sight? Certainly.
Love at first sight was for fairytales.
And he still believed that the first time he met Calder Cotton at the Foundation’s celebration party two months ago. And when Calder had attended family skate the following day. Sure they’d spent almost the entirety of both events together. Sure Evan’s heart had tumbled with familiarity the first time he’d laid eyes on Calder. Sure something fragile and featherlight burst to life in his chest whenever he even thought about Calder.
He still didn’t believe Aunt Delilah.
Until, that was, he made Calder dinner at his townhome in the Toronto suburbs a week after they’d met. As they’d chatted on the couch afterward, nursing a beer each, Calder had broken off mid-sentence to cup Evan’s stubbled jaw and run a thumb over his cheekbone.
“Why do I get the strangest feeling that I’ve been waiting a long time for you?” he’d whispered, dark gaze intense.
Evan’s heart had stuttered while that fragile and featherlight something in his chest had solidified into steel, tying him to Calder in a way that was both terrifying and thrilling all at once.
Scooting close, he’d spread the fingers of one hand against Calder’s collarbone, Calder’s rabbit-fast pulse going crazy under his thumb. “I think I’m going to keep you.”
Calder had swallowed hard, gaze darkening briefly. “That should freak me out.”
“It doesn’t?”
“No. I’ve always wanted to belong to someone.”
Even then he still didn’t believe Aunt Delilah. Not when he took Calder to bed only minutes later. Not as they spent every minute of their spare time together over the next couple of months. Not as they left clothes and toiletries at each other’s homes. Not when they kicked back with a beer to watch a movie they always missed because they ended up talking through most of it. Not when Calder came over, rolled up his sleeves, and experimented with some pastry or another in Evan’s kitchen. Research, Calder would often say, for when he and his cousin finally opened their own bakery.
Not until Evan stood on the porch of said cousin’s home in the High Park neighborhood of Toronto on an April afternoon, ready to meet Calder’s closest family—the only family he had in the city, the rest in Halifax where he’d grown up—did he admit to himself that he might be a little bit in love with Calder. He had to be, to be willing to meet the cousin Calder had called his best friend, as well as his cousin’s four-year-old son.
Okay, maybe he’d started falling the first time Calder had cupped his jaw, but he’d never admit it to Aunt Delilah. She didn’t need more impetus to make spooky predictions that always came true. And if she was going to tell him that he was mistaken and Calder wasn’t The One, he didn’t want to hear it.
He knocked on the front door, anticipation filling his gut at seeing Calder again. With Evan’s team making the playoffs, and with Calder expanding the bakery business he owned with his cousin—they now took online orders where previously it’d been word-of-mouth only—they’d been so busy that they hadn’t seen each other in almost a week.
From inside came the patter of feet stomping their way to the front of the house, and then a small face stuck itself up to the front window, gaze settling on Evan. The kid’s eyes went huge and his mouth dropped open. That must be Andy. Calder talked about his surrogate four-year-old nephew enough that Evan felt like he already knew everything about him. They’d met at the Foundation’s party when Evan had signed the kid’s tiny blue-and-white Toronto jersey, but he’d been so distracted by Calder that he didn’t remember much about it.
“It’s Evan Lacroix!” Andy called over his shoulder. He disappeared from the window. A second later, there was the patter of little feet again. This time they stopped on the other side of the door.
A muffled “My Evan Lacroix?” reached his ears and he frowned. Why did that sound like his teammate, Taylor Cunningham? Evan didn’t know Tay that well—Tay was a forward, Evan was defense, and they’d never had occasion to hang out. Hockey teams were as cliquey as high school.
Not to mention that the twelve-year age gap between them meant Evan typically spent his time with the other vets on the team. What was Tay doing here, though? If, in fact, that was him.
A smile broke out on Evan’s lips at the answering, “No. My Evan Lacroix,” said in a gruff voice that made his toes curl in his boots.
Calder.
The door was flung open and Calder’s bearded face greeted him, smile matching Evan’s. The short dark hair, the close-cropped beard, the melted-chocolate brown eyes, the high forehead, the narrow face, and long nose… Evan would never call him classically handsome, not like the man he presumed was the cousin standing farther down the hallway. No, Calder was all rugged features and too big ears and thick eyebrows.
He was perfect.
“Hey, stranger.” Opening the door wider, Calder gestured Evan inside. “You made it.”
Evan walked right into his arms. “Well, you did say there was cake.”
“Not mine, sadly.”
At the same six-foot-two height, they were eye-to-eye, but although Calder was muscled, Evan had years of hard training under his belt and his size eclipsed Calder’s. Something that Calder had once told him made him feel consumed.
“In a good way,” he’d added with a smirk.
“Hey!” Tay protested from several feet away. “Andy and I made that cake and it’s going to be delicious. Also, side note: why is Lacroix here?”
“Why are you here?” Evan shot back.
Calder ignored everyone and gestured at his cousin. “Ev, this is my cousin, Dakota. And the little guy in the signed jersey is Andy. Dakota, this is Evan, my boyfriend.”
“Good to meet you.” Dakota held out a hand.
“Likewise,” Evan said as they shook. “Thanks for having me.”
“Anytime.”
Behind Dakota, Tay’s jaw had dropped.
“Are you here to cel’brate Daddy’s birfday with us?” Andy asked, head cocked.
Evan stilled, coat halfway off his shoulders. “Birthday?” He turned to Calder. “You didn’t tell me it was his birthday. I would’ve brought something. Beer, at least.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Dakota said. “I’m just glad you could make it last minute.” He seemed to genuinely mean that too. From everything Calder had said about him, Evan hadn’t had any doubt that he’d like the guy.
“My present can be from the both of us,” Calder said, bumping their shoulders once he’d hung Evan’s coat on a hook above a bench in the foyer. Hand at Evan’s back, he led them into the combined living/dining room.
Brow furrowed, Tay’s gaze alighted on Calder’s hand. “You mean there’s someone else to add to the Queer Brigade?”
They all stared at him.
“The what?” It was Dakota who finally spoke.
“Um.” Tay flushed. “Nothing?”
“What’s a brigade?” Andy hugged Tay’s leg. “And can I have one?”
“Oh, uh.” Absently, Tay’s hand went to Andy’s hair, telling Evan more than words ever could about his relationship with Dakota and his son. “I guess the easiest way to describe it is as a very big group.”
Andy bounced on his toes. “So I can have one!”
“Don’t see why not,” Tay mused. “We can invite all your preschool buddies over and play games and eat candy.”
Dakota looked absolutely horrified. He pointed at Tay. “You’re in charge of that.” To Calder, he muttered, “Remind me to be very far away on that day.”
“Mr. Lacroix, sir.” Andy pulled on the bottom of Evan’s sweater.
Evan crouched to his level. “Call me Evan.”
“I have your sin’ture on my jersey.” The kid held the jersey away from his torso and seemed to be looking for Evan’s autograph.
“Here it is,” Evan said, pointing it out near the hem.
“Oh!” Blinking at it for a moment, Andy grinned. “Are you Uncle Calder’s boyfriend like Tay and my daddy are boyfriends?”
“Um.” What was it about kids that made intrusive questions less intrusive than if an adult were to ask?
“Yes,” Calder piped in with a wink at Evan that made his tummy squirm pleasantly, hands settling on Andy’s shoulders. “Now come on. Let’s eat.”
Before Evan had fully risen from his crouch, Tay had locked their elbows together. “Tell me everything.”
Oh boy.
* * *
The pizza had been delivered minutes before Evan arrived. Calder dished out slices at the dining room table, belly warmed from Evan’s presence, as well as the celebratory scotch he’d shared with Dakota earlier—both a birthday drink and one to commemorate their second business expansion this year.
Across the table from him and Evan, Dakota and Tay were laughing about something over Andy’s head. Seated between them, Andy ignored everyone and took a huge bite of his pizza.
Tay wasn’t the person Calder ever would’ve chosen for his cousin. Dakota was a thinker and was happiest surrounded by his loved ones. Tay was young, impulsive, and was on the road with his team for half the year. But they fit. And the fact that Tay seemed to love Andy as much as he loved Dakota said a lot about the man, especially considering Andy’s own mother had no interest in him.
Shaking himself free of those thoughts, he nudged Evan and leaned closer to him. “Dakota said yes.”
“Yeah?” Bottomless brown eyes sparked with happiness on Calder’s behalf as Evan cupped his neck, secure and strong. “Told you he would.”
“Are you talking about the bakery?” Tay interjected.
Blowing out a breath, Dakota sat back.
“Regretting it already?” Calder asked with a grin, knowing that wasn’t the case.
“Not a chance.” Dakota clinked their glasses together, the scotch sloshing within. “I’m already making a mental list of everything that needs to be done.”
“Don’t get too ahead of yourself. The bank might deny us a loan.”
“I don’t see that happening,” Evan put in.
“Daddy,” Andy said, mouth full. “Will you have cupcakes at your new bakery?”
Dakota ruffled his hair. “Definitely.”
“And chocolate chip cookies?”
Calder’s mind wandered as Andy quizzed his dad about their potential stock. Andy had been just as excited as the rest of them when Calder and Dakota had returned home earlier after meeting with the real estate agent at the site of their future bakery. Ever since Andy had been born, Dakota’s sole focus had been creating a stable life for Andy, which meant Calder—and Dakota—had set aside their dream of opening their own bakery, even though that dream was what had made Calder follow Dakota here from Halifax before Andy was born. It wasn’t until Tay came into Dakota’s life, showing him that it was okay to make snap decisions, that Calder had started to see a different side to his cousin. One who smiled more, who took chances, who leapt into the deep end without considering all the angles.
It was a good look on Dakota. So good that it had prompted Calder to seek out a real estate agent and get the wheels turning on their shared dream, even though half of him had still expected Dakota to play it safe.
But Dakota had said yes. Joy bubbled in Calder’s chest and he grinned at nothing. Evan caught his eye and winked at him, hand landing on Calder’s thigh.
If Tay wasn’t what Calder had expected for Dakota, Evan Lacroix wasn’t what he’d expected for himself. Evan was often serious, slow to smile, and more intense than most people Calder knew. He had a way of focusing on Calder in such a way that made it seem like he was peering right into the heart of who Calder was.
And maybe he had. Because from the moment they’d met, Calder had felt seen. Had felt known. The sensation had been so strong that he’d been halfway convinced they’d met before, although neither of them could recall a previous introduction.
“Maybe we met in a past life,” Calder had suggested once, only partly teasing, to which Evan had scoffed.
“You sound like my aunt Delilah. She claims to be in touch with her intuition and is always making crazy predictions.”
“Has she ever been right?”
A brief pause before Evan had grudgingly admitted that yes, Aunt Delilah was right more often than not. “Maybe you’re right,” he’d added, tracing Calder’s eyebrows. “Maybe we did meet in a past life.”
Evan’s hand on his thigh was solid and sure, gripping tight enough for Calder to know he was there but not tight enough to hurt. It was grounding and freeing all at once. They hadn’t said those three little words yet, but Calder thought them often, knew Evan did too just by the way he looked at him.
For the most part, Calder was happy. Sure he’d recently quit his soul-sucking job at a bakery franchise that hadn’t let him experiment with his own creations. Outside of that, however, he was happy with his life. He had a nice apartment, saw Dakota and Andy several times a week, had a thriving freelance bakery business co-owned with Dakota, and had a circle of close friends he’d met at a local meet up around the time Andy was born. But with the rest of his family—his parents, his older sister, the rest of the Cotton clan—in Halifax, he hadn’t realized how untethered he’d felt, how badly he’d needed grounding, until the first time he’d had dinner with Evan and Evan had spread his fingers along Calder’s collarbone. Claiming.
And then the claiming that had followed, Jesus. Calder flushed just thinking about it.
Later, after the pizza was consumed and they’d each had a slice of the crudely—but lovingly—decorated birthday cake that Tay and Andy had made for Dakota, Calder sat on the living sofa while Tay put the cake away and Andy begged Dakota for a few more minutes of play time before bed.
Microbrew in one hand, Evan sat on the coffee table, his long legs cradling Calder’s. Heated gaze on Calder, he silently held out a hand.
Calder didn’t hesitate in taking it, his heart racing when Evan kissed the back of his hand, his inner wrist, his palm, eyes locked on Calder’s. He said so much with his eyes that Calder didn’t need the words.
They were right there in Evan’s expression for Calder to read.
* * *
THE END
Copyright 2020 Amy Aislin. All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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