Somebody’s Perfect

by Kallypso Masters

“I love seeing you with Justice Diaz in your arms,” she said.

  The little boy squirmed. “Do you think he recognizes his name already?”

  She laughed. “More likely, he recognizes our voices.”

  Damián shrugged off that explanation. This boy was going to be smarter than Damián ever was. When he stared into their eyes, he already looked like he had the answers to every question known to man.

  Savannah patted the mattress, and he sat down beside her. “I can’t believe we made another perfect little person.”

  “We do make beautiful babies, don’t we?” she agreed.

  He cupped her cheek. “That we do, but let’s not make another one for a while.”

  She laughed. “There’s only one surefire way to avoid a pregnancy.”

  “Forget that. If God gives us another baby in nine months, we’ll welcome him or her just like we did this one.”

  “Remember, I won’t get the go-ahead for sex for at least a few weeks. And I do intend to plan the next baby, which will be a first for us.”

  Damián grinned. “We’re passionate people. What’s wrong with that?”

  Savannah laughed. “I can’t believe we’re even talking about future kids when I only delivered our son yesterday afternoon.”

  Damián glanced at the clock. “In some ways, it seems longer, but, in others, like it just happened an hour ago.” He bent down to kiss her lips. When she grabbed the back of his head to deepen it, his tongue entered her warm mouth to tango with hers. Pulling away, he met her gaze again.

  A few minutes later, she seemed to screw up her courage to move then grimaced as she turned onto her side. “Do you need something for pain?”

  She shook her head. “It mostly goes away as soon as I stop moving.”

  “Don’t be macho. If you need something, ask for it.”

  “Look who’s talking. I can often say the same to you. Like today. You’re favoring your leg. Go home and give your stump a rest. I’ll be fine.”

  He glanced down at Justice again. “I don’t intend to leave here without both of you. I’ve gone a lot longer without babying my foot.”

  “I still can’t believe how long you hid your amputation from me when I first arrived. For months!”

  “Let’s not talk about that time anymore. In the morning, Dad’s going to bring over the packed bag we left at home. Marisol’s going to be fine at Rosa’s until we get home.”

  “They said I might go home this afternoon.”

  “So soon? Is that wise?”

  “Maybe not for new mothers who don’t have a support net, but I think they saw that I’m going to be surrounded by people who will make sure I don’t overdo it.”

  “Damn straight you will.” He sobered and leaned closer. “You amazed me even more today, preciosa. And somehow we missed the transition phase I was dreading where you were supposed to rip my throat out or something.”

  She laughed. “I curbed my desire to do that. Didn’t want to scare you off.”

  “If helping you give birth on our kitchen floor doesn’t scare me off, nothing will. I’m yours forever, querida.”

  Epilogue

  One last time, Damián tightened the bolts into the flanges and attached the stripper pole into the bedroom ceiling. He couldn’t wait for Savannah to come home and see it but wanted to make double sure it was safe for her. Savannah was at Karla’s with the kids and Cassie, no doubt baking a cake for tonight to celebrate Damián’s twenty-ninth birthday.

  He’d spent the week in the shop degreasing the galvanized pipe, making sure it had no nicks that could cut her, preparing the base and ceiling mount blocks, and then spray-painting it a brass color. Luke had joined him a couple of hours ago to help with the installation. Good thing, because it quickly turned out to be a two-man job. They’d even had to jump in Luke’s truck to return to Damián’s bike shop to cut the pole a half an inch shorter due to a slight miscalculation. Finally, the two of them had managed to mount it to the ceiling and floor in the bedroom.

  Damián stepped off the ladder and stood back to survey their work. He couldn’t wait to see Savannah using it. While she’d found a pole-dancing exercise class at a downtown gym, it was difficult for her to find time to go. Besides, he didn’t get to watch her moves at the gym.

  “Dayum. That might be the best birthday present you’ll ever get,” Luke said.

  Damián had to agree. With Savannah’s increasing lack of inhibition, this would definitely be a gift enjoyed by both of them.

  But it wasn’t quite shiny enough after they’d handled the pipe. He glanced around the room. “Hand me that furniture polish.”

  He’d just finished applying the polish, which should be dry by the time she’d try it out tonight after the kids went to sleep, when the front door slammed. “Fuck. They’re home early. I need to keep her out of here before she sees it.”

  They started hastily gathering up their tools to clean up the area, expecting her to head to the kitchen to hide his cake first.

  “Damián, I don’t want you to come down—”

  Too late. Savannah stood in the doorway when he and Luke looked up, her mouth open. Her eyes lit up, and she smiled. “Damiàn! I love it!”

  Without warning, she took a running start toward it.

  “No! Wait!” Before he could stop her, Savannah grabbed onto the pole to spin herself around, but the still-wet polish made it too slippery. She lost her grasp, and her back crashed into the wall with a thud. She slumped to the floor. Damián’s heart stopped as he raced to her.

  “Bebé, are you okay?”

  “Don’t get up right away, darlin’,” Luke cautioned, cupping her chin. “Follow my finger.” She seemed to follow it to the left then back to the right just fine. “Tell me how many fingers you see,” he said, holding out two fingers in front of her.

  “Six?” She looked a little dazed and sounded confused.

  Fuck. Thank God Luke was a search-and-rescue volunteer and knew what to do. While Damián had taken first aid and CPR classes for the shop, he couldn’t think straight right now. “Shouldn’t we get her to the emergency department so they can check her out?” What the hell had he been thinking to polish the pole like that? She might have broken bones, maybe even a concussion. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  “I’m joking, Sir,” she said with a grin. “There were only two fingers. I’m just trying to hide my embarrassment at such a lame attempt to mount the pole.”

  Someone was asking for a good spanking. “That’s nothing to kid about, savita.”

  “I’m sorry.” She turned her focus back to the pole. “Help me up so I can regain some of my dignity.”

  Each man took one arm and lifted her to her feet. She seemed steady enough, but Damián wrapped an arm around her lower back, just in case.

  “Where are the kids?”

  “Karla’s. I…needed to pick up something before we head back over for your party.” Her attention returned to the new addition to their bedroom. “I can’t believe you installed a dance pole for me, Damián. I absolutely love it!”

  So it’s a dance pole to her, huh? “Don’t try to do anything on it until I can wipe off the polish. I don’t want you to get hurt any worse.”

  “Nothing’s hurt but my pride right now.” She turned to him and gave him a hug. “Thank you so much! You’re a man of many surprises.”

  “I remember a time when you didn’t like surprises.”

  “There once was a time when I didn’t like a lot of things—but I’ve changed, thanks to you.”

  “That you have.” He couldn’t resist another kiss, deepening it when she opened her mouth to him.

  The roar of a familiar hog pulling into their driveway captured their attention. Luke must have left them alone sometime during their kiss. Damián and Savannah crossed the room to see who’d just pulled up. The fuck?

  “Sounds like the Harley I’ve been restoring the past couple months.”

  “You recognize them by their sound?” Savannah ask
ed.

  “No doubt about it with that one.” He’d recognize the sound of that particular engine anywhere. “Let’s go downstairs.” He took her by the hand but preceded her on the stairs, in case there were any residual effects from her fall.

  As they walked out the front door, he wondered if he was finally about to meet the mysterious client who’d relayed him instructions through the shop’s foreman. Damián had worked on the custom detailing, painstakingly restoring it to the same specs as the one he’d owned before joining the Corps. Maybe the owner had come over to personally thank him, but he wasn’t supposed to pick it up until tomorrow. The shop was closed on Sundays. Was there a problem?

  “Dayum. Nice bike,” Luke said, standing in the driveway grinning at Damián—obviously not the new owner of the bike.

  The man on the Harley unstrapped the helmet’s chin strap and slowly removed it.

  “Dad?” He’d bought a Harley knowing Karla’s aversion to them? No wonder he’d wanted to hide his identity. Damián never would have taken the job if he’d known the bike was for Dad.

  “You did a great job, son. That’s the smoothest ride I’ve ever taken.”

  Damián closed the gap to stand near the front tire. “What are you thinking? Karla’s going to kill you if you bring that home.”

  “You’re right. So I thought maybe your garage might be the perfect place for it.” Dad pointed toward the garage behind Damián.

  “No way, man. I’m not going to help you hide something this big from Karla. She’ll have both our asses when she finds out.”

  “I can only imagine,” Savannah agreed.

  What was Dad thinking?

  Dad sobered. “Well then, that presents a problem.”

  Damn right, it does. But it’s not my problem. “I’m not in the bike sales business. You’re going to have to find a new buyer on your own.”

  Dad swung his leg over the back of the bike and lowered the jiffy stand. “I think that can be arranged.” He walked toward them and handed the keys to Savannah, who accepted them.

  Damián glanced her way and found her smiling. At him. He looked between her and Dad, who was also grinning ear to ear now, before returning his gaze to his wife.

  Savannah held the key out to him. “Happy Birthday, Damián.”

  What the everloving fuck? “Are you saying, you’re the client?”

  She nodded, tears brimming in her eyes before two streamed down her cheeks. He closed the gap, took the keys, and wrapped her in his arms.

  “I guess I managed to surprise you. I couldn’t have done it half as well without Dad’s help. I’d even gone upstairs earlier to make sure you didn’t come down before we could pull it off.”

  “Sí, did you ever. All this time, I was working on my own bike?” He still couldn’t figure out how she’d pulled it off.

  “I knew you’d put just as much love into a client’s bike as your own, and I so wanted to replace some of what you lost because of…well, everything that happened back then.”

  Damián couldn’t speak for the lump in his throat, so he simply held on tight until Dad cleared his throat and Damián did the same. Pulling apart, he gazed into Savannah’s eyes.

  “I love you, bebé. Not because you gave me this awesome birthday present, but because of who you are and the precious gifts of Marisol and Justice that you’ve given me.”

  “Stop. You’ll have me crying all night if you keep this up. Why don’t you take your newest baby for a ride?”

  “Not without you.”

  Her eyes opened wider. “Really?”

  Adam—Dad—handed her the helmet he’d worn. “I’m sure the girls have everything under control back at the house. I can hop a ride with Luke back to the shop to get my SUV, and we can meet you two at my place for the birthday party after your ride.”

  “Sure thing,” Luke said.

  How much of this did he know about?

  Savannah looked longingly at the bike.

  Dad commanded, “Go!”

  She turned to Damián. “Can we? I’ve been dying to get on a bike with you again for months.”

  Looks like both of them had given the other a gift with mutual satisfaction. “Sure.”

  “Give me a minute to run and change into something more appropriate first.” She set the helmet on the seat of the bike and ran into the house from the garage.

  “Stay off that pole!” he shouted before she’d opened the door to go inside.

  She turned toward him. “I promise to wait until tonight.”

  “Pole?” Dad asked after she’d gone inside.

  “Yeah. Luke and I just installed a stripper pole in the bedroom so she can start working out on one again.”

  “I’m sure that’s not the only reason you got her one.”

  “Well, it is my birthday.” His gaze turned toward the bike again. “I had no idea she was cooking this up right under my nose. She’s planned this for months, even when she had all that shit on her plate with the trial.”

  “You’ve got a keeper there, son.”

  “Damn right I do. She’s full of surprises.”

  “Just like Karla. I don’t think either of us would want to change a thing about them, though.”

  “Fuck, no.”

  * * *

  Almost a month later, Savannah put the finishing touches on her waterproof mascara. She had a date with Damián tonight and wanted to look her best. Rosa was taking care of Mari and J.D. She smiled thinking how quickly her little boy had picked up a nickname. But Savannah and Damián had learned the name Justice sometimes confused people, and Justice Diaz was a mouthful, so they’d started using his initials.

  Damián would be home any minute. She should be elated, but her thoughts kept returning to the envelope on the credenza downstairs from the San Bernardino District Attorney’s office. Would it contain good news or bad? Was there news about the charges filed against Damián and Dad? Their lives were starting to become blessedly normal after so much trauma and aggravation. Would that trend continue?

  When the front door slammed, she shoved the wand into the mascara tube and headed toward the hallway. He’d started up the stairs when she stopped him.

  “Wait there. I’m on my way down.” The sooner they got this out of the way, the sooner they could move on to their date. When she reached him, she kissed him, his lips firm under hers before he opened to her.

  He pulled away and smiled at her. “I love coming home to you, woman.”

  “I love these days when I’m here to greet you when you come home.” Thoughts of the letter on the credenza tempered her enthusiasm. “Something came for you in the mail today. I think you should look at it right away.”

  “What could possibly be more important than getting ready for our date?”

  Without answering, she led him over to the basket that held the day’s mail and picked up the letter on the top of the stack. “This, I’m afraid.” Really afraid.

  He checked the return address first, and Savannah felt his body stiffen. “I’ll deal with it later.” He set the letter back on the credenza and cupped her face. “Tonight, I have a date with a beautiful chica, and I don’t want anything to put a damper on it.” He kissed her, nibbling at her lower lip until she opened for him. While he managed to distract her for a few moments with a toe-curling kiss, when he pulled away, her thoughts returned to the unopened letter.

  “Sir, I don’t know if I can concentrate while worrying about what’s in that letter. If it has to do with those charges, then Dad probably got one, too. In case we should run into him tonight, I think we need to know what it says.”

  He sighed, staring at the letter again as if it contained anthrax. “I won’t lie to you. I’m worried, too. Open it for me?”

  She nodded, drew a deep breath, and picked up her mother’s letter opener. Savannah held her breath as she extracted the letter from the envelope. It was printed on stiff bond letterhead, and the DA’s return address and California State insignia were emblazoned
across the top.

  “Dear Mr. Orlando…” she began, noticing that Damián was fiddling with his wristband. Thank goodness the staff at the hospital realized how important it was after seeing the engraving and took great pains to get it back to him. It was even more important to them now, having helped them care for their son in his first minutes after birth.

  Focusing again, she continued: “I am writing to inform you that the charges against you in the case of…” Savannah rattled off the legalese, anxious to get to the point of the letter. Her hand began to shake. The thought of having Damián undergo a trial that might land him in prison in California made her sick. Gentry deserved what they’d done to him and more for the years of torture and abuse he’d subjected her to.

  Damián took the letter from her hand, as if to spare her the bad news. “Here, let me.” He scanned the letter quickly to find where she left off. “Because the complainant who brought the charges against you has been convicted of two counts of murder and other felonies, the District Attorney’s office has dropped all charges against you with prejudice.”

  Dropped the charges? “Thank God!” She threw herself at Damián and wrapped her arms around him. After a moment of celebration, she pulled away. “But what does with prejudice mean?”

  “No lo sé.”

  “Let me Google it.” She pulled her phone out of her pocket and looked up the legal term. After only becoming more confused as to whether some of definitions applied in this case, she found a simple one that seemed to fit. “This sounds like the best answer.” She read:

  In the formal legal world, a court case that is dismissed with prejudice means that it is dismissed permanently.

  Oh, please, let that mean what it sounds like.

  “It goes on to say that a dismissal with prejudice means that the case is over and done with. The courts can’t come back later and attempt to bring up these charges again.” She lowered the phone and met Damián’s gaze. “It’s over, sweetheart.”

  Within seconds, they were in each other’s arms, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I can’t believe how everything is falling into place so perfectly.”

  “This calls for an even bigger celebration tonight,” he announced.