by Elle Linder
The warm sun enveloped Lauren as she stepped outside. This time of year, southern California reminded her of her childhood, when she was her happiest. When her parents were their happiest—before the divorce. School was in session, football season was in full swing, and Thanksgiving plans were being made.
Last year, she’d spent the holidays with Teri and Julia. This year, she’d be in Idaho and Teri would be alone.
She put her hand on Teri’s shoulder, squeezing it softly. “I’m so incredibly sorry,” she whispered. “So, so sorry.” Lauren sat in the patio chair beside Teri. Tears fell freely, and she wouldn’t try to hold them back. “I know I hurt you.”
Teri took Lauren’s hand. “I can only imagine how difficult it was for you to apologize.” Teri winked, holding Lauren’s hand. “Dry your eyes, kiddo. I don’t want you upset in your condition.” Teri passed her a blue linen napkin.
“Thank you.” Lauren sniffled, lightly pressing the cloth on her cheeks. “I never wanted to hurt you.”
“Well, you did.” Teri cocked her head. “But I won’t hold it against you. I forgive you.”
“You do? I really am sorry.”
“I know you are. Seeing you stuff your face with cheap McDonald’s pancakes should have clued me in that something wasn’t right.” She shook her head, smiling.
“I dreamed about pancakes last night…Luke’s famous pancakes. And woke up desperate.”
“Clearly.”
“These cravings are getting ridiculous.”
“And they’ll probably get worse. How far along are you?”
“Seven weeks and five days.” She braced for the death stare.
Teri gaped, eyes bulging. “Wow, I had no clue. No morning sickness? I mean, you’re always bitchy, so that didn’t clue me in.”
“Ha-ha!” She nudged Teri’s elbow. “Morning sickness hasn’t been bad. I should have told you sooner, but so much has happened with Rick. At least I told you how I ended it with him.”
Teri shot her the stink eye. “Did you have any other choice? You were sobbing in your office for days.”
“Yeah, it was bad.”
“You’re back together, I assume?” Lauren nodded, grinning wide. “That’s wonderful. Any other symptoms?”
“I’m a lot more emotional these days.” The trickling sound of the water fountain beside them made her squeeze her legs tightly together. “I have to pee a lot more…like now.”
“Go. We’ll talk later. Also…I want to buy you out.”
“What?” Lauren stood, trying to hold back the urge to pee. “You want to buy the inn?”
“No, I want to buy you out. Or does Julia want to sell it all together?”
Goose bumps covered Lauren’s arms as the sensation to relieve her bladder intensified. “I’m sure Julia would work with you to buy me out. She likes having investments.” She rocked to keep from wetting herself. “Jesus! I have to go…”
Lauren bolted back inside, Teri’s giggles echoing behind her.
“Congratulations, kiddo! I’m happy for you!”
thirty-six
Caught, Cuffed, Cleaned-Up
Rick pulled into the driveway of Luke’s old house. They both sat staring up at the master bedroom window on the second floor. He could only imagine what might be going through Luke’s head, the disgust and hatred coursing through his veins, the disappointment crushing his lungs.
Luke had to be coming out of his skin for his kids. Yet, unlike Rick, Luke didn’t voice his feelings. They were there in the form of his tense jaw, iron stature, and clenched fists. During times like these, Rick struggled with keeping his thoughts to himself. He needed to rant, shout, rage. Talk through his emotions.
Kind of like Julia now that he thought of it.
Luke and Julia were him and Lauren, but in reverse. That made Rick smile despite the dire situation they were in. He glanced sidelong at Luke; he admired his buddy so much, and he hated all the grief Renee had given him over the years.
Regardless of the happy life Luke had with Julia, he would never wish to bring his kids pain. Rick didn’t doubt Luke would have stayed with Renee to the very end had he not found them in bed together. The guilt of that betrayal still haunted Rick. Destroying his best friend’s life and shattering the kids’ hearts was something he would never forget. More than anything, he wanted to help Luke find Renee so he could get back to his family in Idaho.
And so he could get back to his sweet Izzy and the woman of his dreams. To make her his family.
“Well, are you ready to do this?” Rick asked.
“Yeah. Don’t let her crying derail you. You always were the softie.”
“Still am, but not with her. She doesn’t fool me anymore.”
“Good.”
The plan was to hit every location Renee frequented on a semi-regular basis. They began their search at the house; it appeared unchanged. When they didn’t find her, they hit every drug store in a twenty-mile radius to no avail. Then they stopped at The Burger Shack, the park on Maverick Street, and Pete’s Pub.
In the late afternoon, they were back at the house. Luke felt she would return to the house at some point, so they had to keep checking. He was convinced they’d catch her there.
Rick cradled the doorknob like he had during their last tour in Iraq as they cleared out warehouses together. He always stepped in first, then Luke. This was no different.
He turned the knob, opening it slowly and holding his breath. Luke cut in front of him, protecting him as if snipers could be inside.
A clinking sound came from the kitchen, and Luke help up his hand, stopping Rick in his tracks. Rick instinctively reached for his pistol, a reflex from his military days, but it wasn’t there. They hadn’t come armed.
Luke eyeballed him, pointing to the closet near the front door. Rick opened it quietly and grabbed Brice’s baseball bat from inside. They crept toward the kitchen, his heart racing, and a sudden fear ripped through his body as Luke turned the corner.
“Who in the fuck are you?” Luke yelled. Rick raised the bat, ready to swing with all his might as he entered the kitchen.
A man stood by the stove, a pair of loose boxers hanging off his ass. Greasy hair, bloodshot eyes, sallow skin. His hands shook in the air, eyes bulging wildly.
Luke went around one side of the island, Rick the other to trap the lowlife.
No sign of Renee.
The island was still cluttered with dishes, trash, spoiled food, and empty vials of coke. Just as it had been yesterday. Flexing his muscles, he slowed each step to not frighten the man further, but ready to knock his head off his shoulders should he try to harm Luke.
“Who…who…are you?” the dude stuttered.
“Where the hell is Renee?” Luke’s voice boomed, hands in tight fists, and his jaw was clenched. With all the black hair on his face, only his words could be heard. His lips couldn’t be seen moving.
“A…a…a…”
“Spit it out, goddammit!”
The man’s hands flailed in the air, teeth chattering. Then his eyes darted behind Rick. There was a sound of metal scraping against something.
Rick whirled around. Searing pain sliced through his flesh at the same time his eyes connected with Renee’s. She screamed, covering her mouth and leaving the knife in his side.
A rush of warmth and flesh-splitting pain overcame him. The bat hit the floor as his breathing hitched, hands trembling, heart racing. Rick eyed the wooden handle sticking out of him as tremors ripped through his body, knees buckling. In an instant, he lost all control of himself.
Luke, phone at his ear, caught Rick and helped him down onto the tile floor. “I’ve got you. You’re going to be okay. It’s not that bad. I’ve got you,” Luke assured him.
The pain permeated his torso. His hands and feet shook, panicked by what it all meant. He coughed, then gagged, touching his blood-soaked shirt. “Lauren…tell her…” He gripped Luke’s hand. “I love her…and Iz…”
He could h
ear his own voice weakening, feel tears streaking down the sides of his face.
“You’ll tell them yourself,” Luke said through gritted teeth. “Stay with me. Do you hear me…stay with me.”
Vision clouding with darkness, he heard Luke’s muffled voice as if they were in Iraq fighting the enemy. Strangely, Luke barking orders comforted his regretful soul.
“Luke…I’m sorry, brother…”
“So, we’ll be here three more days, maybe four at most. Rick’s going to be just fine.” Luke spoke softly into the phone as Julia listened in utter silence. The waiting room was empty. He had left Rick sleeping so he could call Julia. He was exhausted, post-adrenaline rush. “Baby, are you there?”
“A seven-inch kitchen knife in the gut?” She sucked in a breath. “And Renee was arrested? Luke, you could have been stabbed. You’re okay, right?” He listened to her voice rise in pitch, something she did when processing, so he stayed quiet. “Lauren’s going to come unglued. Are you sure he’s okay? Of course you’re sure or you wouldn’t have called me. Jesus, Luke, this is unbelievable. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m positive, baby. I’m okay. Don’t worry about Lauren. When I talked to her, she held it together like a weathered soldier. She plans to kick Rick’s ass.” He chuckled. Lauren was a badass woman, no doubt. She was perfect for Rick.
“How can she joke at a time like this? Seems her gore-loving weirdness is finally useful for something. Sick.”
Luke smiled. “I’m miserable without you.”
She breathed into the phone. He could feel the sultry air on his lips and taste her sweetness, and he wanted to touch her silky skin. “She’s really looking at up to ten years in jail? How horrible.”
“Yes, it’s horrible, but she brought this on herself. Maybe she’ll clean up her act.” He dared to hope she would. “She could be out in six for good behavior.”
“What about the kids? Do you know what you’ll tell them?”
“The truth, baby, the truth.”
“Right. You’re a wonderful father.” His arms ached to hold her.
“Sweetheart, are you okay?”
“Mhmm. Thinking about Lauren. I know she’ll be here waiting for Rick with bated breath and will probably never let him out of her sight again. Like I’ll never let you out of my sight again.”
“That sounds heavenly. I’m sure Rick will feel the same. I love you, baby. Only a few more days.”
“And twenty-two days until the wedding.”
“I can’t wait.”
“Me either, Mr. Lumberjack.”
thirty-seven
Home Sweet Home
Three months ago, if anyone would have told Lauren that she’d be in love for the first time in her life and pregnant before the end of the year, she would have called bullshit. Love and babies didn’t happen to her. Loneliness and drunkenness were her lot in life. Or so she had thought.
Rick snored softly on the bed across the room. She had taken to watching him sleep, even when she was exhausted herself. After only a few days of playing nursemaid to him, she would give her right arm to take care of him for the rest of her life. Him, Izzy, and the baby.
He could have died.
Her eyes moistened for the millionth time. Each time a stray tear would break free, streaking down her cheek, he reminded her that he would never leave her. A promise she intended on making him keep.
“You should be lying next to me,” he grumbled through his teeth, dazed with sleep. His recovery wasn’t going well enough for his liking. It made Lauren laugh, watching him wince through gritted teeth each time he tried to move. Or be brought to tears when he tried to pick up Izzy. Her tough guy wasn’t so tough anymore.
She’d embrace being the stronger of the two for the time being.
“I didn’t want to disturb you.” She tiptoed over to the side of the bed. He hiked a brow, opening one eye. “You sleep better when I’m not there.”
“That’s bullshit and you know it.” He grinned, both eyes open and ready to play.
“If I’m next to you, you’ll want sex. That’s not part of your recovery.”
“That’s also bullshit. Sex is on the homecare list the doctor gave Luke, ask him.”
“I will, but even if he said, ‘fuck Rick’s brains out and he’ll be healed’ I wouldn’t do it.”
Rick slowly pulled the blanket back, and she feigned surprise. He rubbed his hand over his tented boxers, taunting her. “Don Juan misses you.”
“Don Juan?” She arched her brow. “You named it?”
“Sure did, after I hung up my womanizing keys.”
She eyed the head, peeking out of the window of his boxers, and swallowed hard. There was nothing she enjoyed more than making Rick writhe in pleasure. “If I play with ‘Don Juan,’ do you promise to not move a muscle? I couldn’t stand it if I hurt you.”
“You’ll hurt me if you don’t slip him into that glorious mouth of yours.” He puckered his plump lips, then licked them in a slow, circular, drawn-out motion. “You know you want to.”
“I do. Desperately. The torture of being hands-off is more than I can take. Are you sure?” She wiggled her brows, running her hand over him. His eyes rolled back into his head, his mouth opening slightly with hope…desire.
Lauren kissed him softly so not to get him too worked up, fearing she might hurt him. A tug of war battled inside her. Her heart wanted to please him any way he wished while her head argued to make him rest so he could heal.
Rick cupped her cheek, pulling her firmly against him, tugging and nipping at her lips. She couldn’t contain the growing fire inside her, slipping her tongue into his mouth. As his moans grew louder, they awakened her selfish desires.
“I’m waiting,” he whispered against her lips.
“If I split open your stitches, I’ll kill you.” She pulled back, glaring at him, hands on her hips.
“I know, baby, and I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
The thrill of pleasuring her injured man did wonderful, wicked things to her. A warmth between her legs urged her forward. She climbed on the bed beside him, releasing “Don Juan” from his confinement. Rick shivered as she moved her thumb over the tip.
“Are you absolutely sure? Because once I start, I may not be able to stop.”
“I’m sure, babe. I want to be inside you, one way or another.” He tugged the ends of her hair, a devious glint in his eyes.
“O-kay…”
Lauren bent down, cupped his balls, and smiled at his stiff erection. Licking her lips, she massaged with one hand and stroked with the other.
“Ahh, you do me so good.” A delighted sigh filled her ears. Rick tugged on her hair, a primal growl in his throat. No one had ever made her feel as attractive and desirable as Rick did. If this was the beginning of their lives together, it was sure to be more than she’d ever dreamed.
She hummed her reply, relishing the control she possessed as she went to work giving him her very best restorative blow job.
***
Lauren snuggled up to Rick as his breathing calmed. Despite how perfect she believed they were for each other, she was still hesitant about moving to Idaho. Hesitant he’d change his mind about her. “Are you positive you want me to move in with you?”
“Yes, and if you ask me one more time if I’m positive or sure about spending my life with you, I’ll rip open my gut.” He winked, squeezing her tighter.
“You don’t have to be an ass about it.”
“Then stop bugging me about it. I love you, Lauren. Do you love me?”
She propped up on her elbow and stared into his chocolate-brown eyes. She did love him, more than life itself. Never had she felt so complete and filled with purpose. Hell, she was excited for what the future would bring. She dotted soft kisses on his chest.
“I do. I love you, Rick. With every piece of my heart.”
“Yeah…that’s my girl.” He stroked her back.
“And I love Izzy too. Speaking of, she�
��ll be up from her nap soon, and your mom will be here to watch you.”
“Watch me for what? Are you going somewhere?”
She rolled her eyes. “Yes, handsome. I told you last night that I’m taking Izzy to Spokane with Julia to buy her a flower girl dress.” He stared blankly. “Don’t you remember? The wedding is just around the corner.”
“I remember now. I’m still reeling from your titillating talents.” He ran his hand along her back. “Maybe we should plan a wedding?”
He studied her, she assumed for a reaction. He’d done it several times, as if feeling her out on the topic of marriage. Was he being serious or an ass?
She narrowed her eyes, suspicious of his meaning. “Is this your proposal?”
“Oh, hell no. When I propose, it will be romantic. With all the pomp and circumstance of a proper proposal. Not some cheesy pancake breakfast like Luke did for Julia.”
“Hey!” She lightly slapped his shoulder. “That was a romantic proposal. It was intimate without a million eyes on them. I prefer that, just so you know.”
“Seriously?” he choked out, grimacing in pain. “You wouldn’t want violins or a flash mob dancing to Bruno Mars ‘Marry You’? You gotta be shitting me. Every woman wants the moment recorded, with candles, a big-ass diamond, and flowers.”
Lauren shook her head and gave him a murderous glare. “If you do any of that, you’re going to piss me off.” His eyes bulged. “Are you listening to me? Make it beautiful. Intimate. Private. I don’t need or want over the top or obscene…although a big-ass ring, I’ll accept.”
“So, you’re saying you’ll say yes?”
What was she to say? If this was his proposal, even though she’d complained about it, Lauren knew she’d likely jump on him, tearing open his stitches as she screamed yes, yes, yes!
“Rick, you’ll just have to find out when you ask me. And it better not be on some cliché day like Christmas or New Year’s.” She winked. “If you’re going to ask me, make it special—authentic.”