by Freya Barker
“What? But why?” Tahlula protests. “You can stay with me at my place. There’s plenty of room.”
Jaimie grabs her hand. “I appreciate that, but aside from the fact you already have guests at your house, I don’t know if I’d feel comfortable living that isolated. Not with a little one. Not after what happened.” Tahlula winces at that, and casts a glance my way.
“I have a small guest suite that hardly ever gets used,” Ma volunteers. “I’d welcome the company until she can move into her own place in a few weeks. Besides, it gives me a chance to practice my grandma skills before your little one comes along.”
I bite off a grin. Ma has clearly adopted Tahlula and her baby into the family already. She’ll be on my case if I fuck things up. I think she’d given up hope for any offspring.
Tahlula still seems a bit flustered by the time a nurse walks in, carrying discharge papers.
Half an hour later, we’re on our way home through the heavy rain that’s been falling since yesterday. I had to lift Tahlula into the cab of my truck, which Blue and Sumo had dropped off at the hospital over the weekend, and Jaimie and the baby followed with Ma in her car.
“We’re going back to your place?” she asks, when I turn into my subdivision.
“Yes.”
“Oh.”
I glance over at her, surprised she doesn’t argue as I suspected she would. “You okay with that?”
“For now,” she concedes before admitting, “To be honest, I’m not sure I’d feel comfortable up at my place—at least until I’ve recovered—but I miss Luke.”
“We can see if Moose and Penelope can drop him off here at some point today, or I can go fetch him.”
“Thanks.”
If it was up to me, she’d move in with me for good, but I’d rather it be a choice she makes for herself, instead of forced on her by circumstances. Like me, she’s been on her own for most of her adult life. The difference is I was waiting for the right person to share mine with, while she seemed resigned to living it alone.
I can be patient—I have lots of experience with that—but it doesn’t mean I don’t grab the opportunity when I can. Like lifting her out of my truck and carrying her bridal style over my threshold.
“Have you heard from Trunk?” she asks me, once I have her installed on the couch. “I haven’t seen him since that first night in the hospital.”
“He had an errand to run.”
I don’t tell her Ouray mentioned her brother had taken off early Saturday morning with an Arrow’s Edge probate for Denver, driving one of the club vehicles outfitted with a trailer for Jaimie’s stuff. Granted, his injury was relatively minor, but it would piss Tahlula off to know he’s not looking after himself. I’m guessing they should be back sometime today and he can face his sister’s temper himself.
Before she can question me further, Ma asks her to help get a grocery list together, since she’s heading to the store anyway. While they’re busy with that, I sneak out on the deck to make a few calls. Cap confirms the evacuation is lifted now the fire is under control—the steady rain helped with that—and people are slowly returning to their homes. Not a single house was lost, which is always gratifying to hear. I’m not expected back on shift until Thursday.
My next call is to see if Moose and Pen are around, so I can get Luke here.
“We’ll bring him by,” Moose offers. “Pen mentioned dropping by your place tonight with dinner, if your woman is up to it.”
“I’m sure she’d like that.”
“We’re meeting a bunch of the guys tomorrow at the Irish Embassy Pub downtown for a goodbye dinner and drinks, but figured Tahlula wouldn’t be able to make it. We wanted to at least thank her for the hospitality.”
“Goodbye dinner?”
“Our month is up,” he shares. “The job in San Antonio is waiting. We’re scheduled back next Monday, so we’re heading out the day after tomorrow, and taking the long way home.”
“Sorry to see you go,” I admit. “I’m sure Tahlula will be as well.”
“We’ll be by with Luke around five.”
“Sounds good. Thanks.”
When I walk back inside, Tahlula is feeding River a bottle while Jaimie and Ma are rummaging through the fridge and cupboards.
“You need anything, Evan?” Ma asks, waving her list.
“I’m good.” I fish my wallet from my pocket and take out my credit card, handing it to her. “Put it on here.”
“I’m paying you back,” Tahlula calls from the couch.
“Food for my house, Lula, I pay.”
“If I’d known that, I wouldn’t have added to the list,” she grumbles.
“We stay at your place, you can contribute. How’s that?”
“Contribute? That’s bullshit, is what it is.” Poor River plops off the bottle, startled at her raised voice. She quickly coos and feeds the nipple back into his mouth before he can launch a protest.
“Jaimie? I think that’s our cue to head out,” Ma pipes up, grabbing Jaimie by the arm and propelling her to the door. “You’re good with the baby?” Tahlula looks up sheepishly and nods. My mother winks at Jaimie. “And you thought it would be these two babysitting River.”
Once they’ve left, Tahlula turns to me. “I make a lot of money, you know. I can afford to take good care of myself, but even when I didn’t, I managed to pay my own way.”
I try not to react to her words as I walk over and sit beside her on the couch, tucking a curl behind her ear. “I’m well aware, which is what makes it even more important that you let me do things like this.” She looks confused, but doesn’t say anything, merely tilting her head. “A firefighter’s salary is decent, enough to support a family on, but not exactly living in the lap of luxury. That SUV you drive? I wouldn’t have been able to buy that for you.” She opens her mouth to protest, but I shake my head. “Hear me out. It doesn’t bother me you make more money than I do, and I don’t begrudge you spending it however you like—you certainly deserve it—but let me take care of the things that are within my means.”
“Come here,” she whispers, leaning toward me without waking River, who’s fallen asleep. I lean closer and cover her offered mouth with mine. The kiss is sweet; apology and understanding all rolled into the gentle pressure of her lips. “I get it. I concede,” she validates when she pulls away. Then a mischievous sparkle shows in her eyes. “But does that mean when I get a hankering to surprise you for your birthday, you don’t mind me booking us a tropical vacation?”
I take River from her arms and lift him over my shoulder; with a free hand I tag Tahlula behind her neck and pull her close. “You get an itch for a trip to Fiji for my birthday, I’m not going to argue, as long as you don’t argue when I just want to take care of you.”
Another soft kiss, before she smiles up at me. “How’d I get so lucky?”
“You’re stealing my line, Lula.”
She places a hand on my face. “Okay, then how about this one; I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you.”
Tahlula
“You wait to tell me that when I have a baby in my arms?”
I chuckle at his disgruntled look. “I couldn’t help it, it looks good on you.”
His face morphs into a wide smile. “Does it?” He places a hand on my belly, and I cover it with mine. I notice, rather than mismatched, my dark and his pale skin now look complimentary in contrast. “I love you too, Lula,” he says and my eyes lift to his. “I realize we still have a lot to discover, and some things to sort out, but I want you to know I’m committed to making a future for you, me, and this little girl work.”
I’m struggling to hold onto my tears, a mental image of what our future could look like suddenly overwhelmingly clear in my mind: Evan, me, and a little redheaded girl.
A sharp rap sounds on the door and Evan gets up—River still asleep on his shoulder—to open the door to Keith Blackfoot.
“I just came from the courthouse,” he announces, looking at me, and Evan
waves him in.
“And?”
“The judge didn’t grant bail. The assistant DA outlined his charges and Special Agent Damian Gomez was there to inform the court of an ongoing FBI investigation into Sutherland’s affiliation with the American Nationalist League. Given Judge Limeridge is African American, he didn’t hesitate to remand Sutherland to the La Plata County Jail.”
“Whoot!” My enthusiastic reaction wakes the poor baby, who starts wailing instantly. I hold out my hands to Evan and he transfers River to me. Tucking him into my neck, I softly coo with my lips against his perfect, little ear until he settles. When I glance up both Evan and Keith are smiling at me.
“How are you feeling?” the detective asks.
“Sitting on this couch, like a million bucks.” I grin at him.
“I bet.”
My expression turns serious as I change the subject back to Rob Sutherland. “So, does this mean it’s over?”
“Getting there,” Keith says cautiously. “A trial date was set for the first week of December. I’m sure the DA’s office will be in touch with you, at some point, about testifying.”
“There’s the woman too,” Evan points out. “We both saw her behind the wheel, that was not a six foot two man.”
I don’t know how that slipped my mind. I’m usually good with wrapping up all the loose ends in my suspense plots, but now that I’m living one, I’m having a hard time staying on top of things.
“The FBI office is looking into any known members of the ANL we may be able to connect to Sutherland’s Grand Junction business. See if we can match anyone to your description of the woman.”
“Can I get you a beer?” Evan asks Keith, who shakes his head.
“No, I should head home soon. Autumn is trying her hand at Navajo fry bread, and I need to make sure she doesn’t burn the house down.”
I’m pretty sure Autumn would rip a strip off him if she heard that remark, but just as I’m about to tell him that, he pulls a phone from his pocket and puts it to his ear.
“Detective Thompson, how are you?” As he listens to the voice on the other end, a deep frown forms between his eyebrows. “Yes, that’s Ms. Rae’s brother. Titus, yes.”
His eyes come to me when I sit up straight at hearing Trunk’s name. At the same time, the front door opens and Jaimie and Evan’s mother walk in, loaded with grocery bags.
“Actually, she’s right here. Give me a second to get her up to speed.” Keith presses the phone against his chest and turns to my friend. “Sit down, Jaimie.”
She looks from Evan to me, before turning to the detective. “What’s going on?”
“Sit down,” he says firmly. Evan steps in to take the grocery bags from her hands, nudging her to the couch, where she plops down next to me, her eyes glued to Keith. “I have Detective Thompson on the phone. She’s been trying to call you since yesterday.”
“I’ve had my phone off since Rob started blowing it up last week,” she explains.
“Understandable, but she’s calling because there’s been a break-in at your house in Denver. Tahlula’s brother has been arrested along with an accomplice.”
“Trunk?” I blurt out.
“Oh shit,” Evan says quietly. He looks at the toes of his boots when I pin him with a glare.
“Evan?”
Slowly his eyes come up to meet mine. “All I know is he was heading there to pick up a few things Jaimie might need for the baby.”
“Apparently that’s what he told Detective Thompson,” Keith confirms. “Problem is, the lock on the door was busted and Trunk is claiming it was already that way when he arrived.”
“He asked me for the keys,” Jaimie admits. “It was after you woke up in the hospital. He said he was heading to Denver anyway and offered to swing by my place.”
Keith steps forward and hands his phone to Jaimie. “You may want to tell Detective Thompson that.”
It takes another fifteen minutes before I understand the sequence of events from Jaimie’s side of the conversation. “My brother is the only knucklehead I know stupid enough to take a road trip to Denver with a bullet wound.” Evan starts chuckling and my temper flies. “I don’t see what’s so funny about that. You’re no better. You knew and didn’t tell me.”
“Babe, he was already gone when I found out from Ouray.”
“Did they take anything?” Joan, who has been quiet thus far, directs at Jaimie.
“She said the only place they seemed to be interested in was the small room Rob used as an office. It sounds like his laptop is gone and the lock on the desk drawer was busted. They apparently cleared out whatever was in there.”
“The stuff your husband wanted you to send,” Keith concludes.
“Apparently.”
A little after five, Moose and Penelope show up with Luke, and take-out bags from a local Chinese restaurant. Evan’s mother and Jaimie left with River a few hours ago, and I managed to catch a nap on the couch after briefly talking to Trunk, who’d just been released.
“Hey, buddy,” I greet my dog when he hurries over. As if he knows to be careful, he sits down by my side, dropping his head on the seat next to me.
“He’s been pining for you all weekend,” Pen says, sitting down beside me. “Not even Smokey was able to get him out of his funk.”
“Why didn’t you bring him?”
“He’s had enough excitement and he has a long trip ahead of him.”
“A long trip?” I ask, just as Moose and Evan carry a pair of plates piled high with food into the living room.
“We’re leaving first thing Wednesday morning,” Pen says, as she smiles up at her husband and takes one of the plates from his hand. Evan hands me mine.
“Already?” I’m sad to see them go. I’ve gotten to like the two of them a lot, and Smokey has been a great buddy to Luke.
“We’re not expected to report back for work until next Monday morning, but we’ve decided to squeeze in a few days of vacation.”
“Probably be the last chance we get for some time alone for a while,” Moose says with a chuckle, before shoving a forkful in his mouth.
Pen rolls her eyes. “That’s not exactly subtle, Moose.”
“Can’t blame me for being excited, Tiger,” he says, grinning around his food.
The food is a pleasant change after a few days of hospital fare, and between it, the somewhat chaotic day, and the low hum of conversation, I drift off.
“Bedtime, baby.”
I feel myself lifted off the couch and blink my eyes open to find Penelope and Moose gone. “I didn’t even say goodbye,” I complain sleepily.
“They’re swinging by on their way out of town Wednesday morning to drop off the keys.”
I grunt and snuggle my head against his shoulder as he carries me to the bedroom. “I should walk.”
“Tomorrow you can walk. Today I want to carry you.”
24
Evan
I quickly turn off my alarm before it starts blaring, roll onto my back, and stretch my arms over my head.
Another full night of sleep for the books.
As long as I can remember, I’ve struggled with bouts of insomnia, but apparently having Tahlula in my bed works well as a sleep aid. In the past couple of weeks I’ve slept like a log simply holding her.
She moans in the bed beside me
and shifts her body so her butt is pressed against my hip. Certain parts of my anatomy jump to attention on contact. Two weeks is a long fucking time when you share a house and a bed every night, but have to restrain yourself.
It’s not like we were monks the entire time, we discovered a few creative alternatives to find relief, but there’s nothing that compares to having those beautiful eyes stare up at me as I slide into her body.
Yesterday her stitches came out, but she ended up falling asleep before I even made it to the bedroom.
It’s still pretty dark out when I roll and curve my body behind hers, slipping my arms around her. I stroke a
hand over the swell of her round belly as I press my lips against the nape of her neck.
“Mmmm,” she hums, pushing her hips back a little more.
Taking it as an invitation, I slip a hand down and between her legs, my fingers finding her already slick with arousal. While I lazily play with her clit, the other hand finds her full breast. She moans when I tug at her peaked nipple.
“So sensitive,” I mumble against her skin.
“So horny,” she sighs, tilting her ass in invitation.
My turn to moan. “You’re making it impossible for me to be gentle.”
“Who said anything about gentle?”
I bury my face in her curls and groan when she reaches back to grab hold of my cock, lining it up with her hot core. With a deep sigh she takes me deep into her body, the tight, wet grasp of her pussy eradicating any last semblance of control.
“Right there,” she hisses when I withdraw before surging back inside.
Her fingers dig into my ass, the bite of her nails only adding to my urgency as I pump inside her. A thin layer of sweat slicks our skin, and I desperately hold onto her body as I feel every muscle tense up. When fingers fork around our slippery connection, and I press the heel of my hand on her clit, I can feel her come around my cock, triggering my own release.
“Holy shit,” she whispers. I’m too spent to do more than gasp for air, my opened lips against her skin. “Holy shit,” she repeats, this time hissing as her body goes rigid in my arms.
“What?” I push up and look down at her. Her face is twisted in a grimace. “Talk to me.”
She sharply shakes her head as she blows out air between pursed lips. “Yowza,” she finally says when the tension goes out of her features. “That was a doozy.”
“Are you okay?”
She turns and grins at me. “Fine. Just a practice run. Good to know all things are in working order.”
“You’re telling me you just had a contraction?”
There must’ve been a hint of panic in my voice, because her hand comes up and soothingly strokes my jaw, while her eyes smile. “Isn’t the first one, honey. Dr. Haebe said it was quite normal. She checked me yesterday and assured me nothing much is happening down there. Yet.”