Page 72 of Forgotten Dreams
“No,” she says. “You were too busy telling me how much you hated my outfit.”
I chuckle when I look over and see that Brock and Everleigh are now dancing on the other side. “I love you.” I bend and kiss her lips.
“How much?” She looks up at me.
“I’m in a bar dancing with you instead of having my face buried in the middle of your thighs.” I wink at her. “That’s how much.”
“Okay”—she turns in my arms—“we’re out.” She holds up her hands at Brock and Everleigh. “We’re going home.” She shrugs. “He’s much more romantic than I am.”
Chapter 31
Sierra
The phone rings beside me on my desk, and I look down, seeing his name flash across the screen. I press the green button before leaning back in my chair, “Hello.”
“Hey, baby”—his voice goes soft—“whatcha doing?”
“I’m about to have tea with the queen,” I joke, and the way he chuckles makes me smile even more.
“Oh, I didn’t want to interrupt tea with the queen. I was just calling to see how your day was going.”
“It’s going good.” I smile as I look out the bay window. “I finished a redesign of one of the contracts I got a couple of months ago. So it’s been a relaxed sort of day. But now I guess it’s better since you called.” I smile, thinking of him.
“Is it?” he questions. “Do you know I’m always the one who calls you?”
“What?” I shake my head. “That’s not true. I call you all the time.”
“Name once,” he pushes, and I look up at the ceiling, trying to think back. He’s right, I don’t think I’ve ever just called him. “I’ve been busy.”
He chuckles, and it makes my stomach flutter and certain parts of me tingle, parts that after almost two months should stop fluttering already. “Which is why I call you every day, just to say hello.”
“No, you call me every day so you can be ‘I’m the one who always calls you,’” I mimic his voice horribly.
“I’ll be home around five,” he says, laughing. “We can argue then.”
“You just want to argue with me so we can have make-up sex,” I point out.
“Baby,” he murmurs softly, “don’t make me hard when I’m on my way to meet my guys.”
“Goodbye, Caleb,” I snap, “I love you.”
“Love you too, baby,” he replies softly, and I hang up, putting the phone beside my keyboard.
It’s been two weeks since I told him I loved him, or better yet, he told me he loved me, and it’s been smooth sailing ever since. Mind you, nothing has been happening with my birth parents. No more mysterious phone calls, no more notes telling me to leave. Nothing. It’s been crickets. I guess no news is good news. I’m about to get up and maybe go start making dinner, when my phone rings. I look down, thinking it’s him again, but instead, it’s an unknown caller.
“Hello,” I answer, putting it on speakerphone.
“Is this Sierra?” the male voice asks me.
“This is.” I sit up in my chair, looking down at the numbers, counting how long we are on the phone, ticking by.
“Hi,” he says, “my name is Brendan Frisby.” I try to place his name but come out blank. “You hired me through the DNA site to trace your ancestors. I’m a forensic genealogist.”
“Oh, hi,” I reply, suddenly getting nervous.
“I’m calling you today because I have some news.” The hair on the back of my neck starts to stand. “I’ve been working on your DNA matches, and I’ve found a close relative.”
I close my eyes. “How close?”
