Welcome to Blissville

by Walker, Aimee Nicole

  The house would be our home and our story. Yes, it would include grim stories from the past, but all homes and relationships had that. The key to happiness wasn’t to pretend bruised souls and broken hearts didn’t exist because you couldn’t build something solid on a foundation made of pretense, no matter how well-intended. Instead, own it, embrace it, and grow past it. Build that life brick by brick with mortar made of sweat and tears of both joy and sorrow to act as the glue that holds it all together.

  Our friends showed up in full force to help us unpack and set up our new space. Chaz and Mere showed up after the salon closed, but Harley showed up bright and early as did Kyle, not that Kyle and Chaz were an item. Yet. No way in hell that wasn’t going to happen. The blush on Chaz’s cheeks when he showed up and saw Kyle told me that something had already happened and it was damned hard not to drag him off someplace and demand to know the details.

  “Stay out of it,” Gabe whispered in my ear as I watched the two guys interact. “They obviously don’t need your help. Okay, any more help,” he corrected when I raised a scornful brow at him. I had pushed them toward each other a little bit, but he was right that additional interference wasn’t warranted.

  “I wasn’t going to do or say anything,” I assured him then turned to give him a hug.

  Gabe bounced back quickly after talking to Bonita the first time. It didn’t take him long to reach out to her again, and they’d become friends quickly. He had told her he was gay during their second conversation because if she had a problem with it, then there’d be no need for a third. Bonita had already known based on the information that the private investigator gave her and she was very accepting. I had talked to her a few times on the phone, and I found her to be warm and funny. I looked forward to meeting her and Gabe’s sisters. In fact, Gabe decided to invite Bonita, her husband, and his sisters to our wedding after discussing it with Martina and Al.

  My favorite part had been listening to Gabe speak to each of his younger sisters on the phone. He hadn’t even met them yet, but he was grilling them about having boyfriends or girlfriends in their lives. We had seen pictures of them, and they were stunningly beautiful. They all had similar coloring to Gabe, but their eyes weren’t as dark brown. In fact, each lovely woman had a shade of brown unique to her.

  We had quickly moved to Skype so we could see the girls instead of just hearing their voices. Selena was in graduate school at Vanderbilt studying to be a doctor, Marisol was a sophomore at the University of Tennessee studying to be an environmental engineer, and Arianna was a senior in high school. All of them had been home for the summer and eager to drive north to meet us in person and attend our wedding.

  “I can’t believe I have sisters that are twenty-three, twenty, and seventeen years old,” Gabe had said the night we first chatted with them. “It seems surreal,” he said, stroking my back as I lay beside him in bed. “In a good way, though.” I knew what he meant. “We’ll be meeting them at our wedding in four weeks.”

  That had been two weeks before our move, so that meant our countdown was half as long. Oddly enough, I wasn’t stressed about it at all. We had everything under control—as best we could—and I focused on what was right in front of me, which happened to be my very sexy fiancé.

  “As happy as I am that our friends are here to help us, I can’t wait until we’re alone tonight,” I told him. I hoped to project how eager I was to break in our new bedroom properly—and judging by the glimmer in his eyes—I had hit a bullseye.

  “Me too, Sunshine. Me too.” Gabe kissed me quickly and patted my ass before we separated to get our tasks done.

  We couldn’t expect our friends to work for free so we ordered pizzas and salads that night and promised them an amazing barbecue the following day. By the time twilight moved in, the crowd had gone home. It was just Gabe and me on our front porch with cold beverages and anticipation of the night to come building between us.

  I wasn’t eager to toss back my lemonade and run up the stairs because I knew that every second we waited would make the loving that much sweeter. I could tell by the crooked smile Gabe sent my way that he was hatching a plan. He wasn’t the only one. I saw that burgundy silk tie when I was hanging his suits in our massive closet and remembered that I hadn’t been tied up with that sucker yet. The thought of it had me wiggling in my seat, which prompted Gabe to chuckle warmly beside me.

  I set my glass down and turned to look at him then noticed a black car slowing down in front of our house. The windows were tinted so I couldn’t see who was driving the car. Irritation and fear jockeyed for first place in the emotional upheaval competition going on inside me when the car pulled into our driveway. Gabe turned his head and looked to see what had put the damper on my “take me upstairs” look.

  “Government plates,” he said like that made me feel any better.

  “Internal Affairs,” I said smartly, in an attempt to calm myself with bad jokes.

  “Wiseass,” Gabe said then rose to his feet.

  A man got out of the car wearing a serious-looking black suit and an even more serious expression on his face. He reminded me a lot of the main agents in Men in Black although I doubted this had anything to do with aliens. My breath hitched in my throat when the man didn’t so much as offer a smile when he stepped onto the porch. I rose and went to Gabe’s side because I had a strong feeling that this man was the one Emory had seen in his vision. Whatever this lawman had to say wasn’t good.

  “Are you Gabriel Wyatt?” he asked Gabe.

  “I am,” he responded in an equally serious tone.

  “I’m Deputy U.S. Marshal Hayes Matthews with the United States Marshals Service field office,” he said, pulling out his badge for Gabe to see.

  “What can I do for you, Deputy?” Gabe asked.

  “Have you been in contact with Jimmy De Soto?” Deputy Matthews asked.

  Gabe flinched slightly when he heard the man’s name. “No, sir, I haven’t. What’s this about?”

  “New evidence was presented to a grand jury in the homicide of Ace Dixon that points to De Soto not only knowing the kid would get killed, but that he instigated his death. The grand jury issued an indictment, but someone must’ve tipped De Soto off because he had fled his home by the time Marshals Services arrived to take him into custody.”

  “I’m the last person he would look to for help, Deputy,” Gabe told the man.

  I had no idea what the hell was going on, but it sounded serious. Gabe had never mentioned that guy to me, but I figured it had to do with his first IA investigation that he wasn’t allowed to discuss. He had seen someone from his past when he took me to Miami to meet his parents, but he hadn’t said much about it.

  “Him seeking you out for assistance isn’t what I was worried about, Detective. It’s well-known among his friends and family that he holds you responsible for losing his job. We worried that this might’ve pushed him into looking for you rather than running to avoid jail.” The man pulled a card out of his jacket pocket and held it out to Gabe. “Here’s my contact information, including my cell phone number. I want you to call me if you have any reason to believe De Soto is near. You need to consider that he’ll be armed, dangerous, and not interested in talking. I mean it, Detective, you call me no matter what time it is or day of the week.”

  “Will do,” Gabe solemnly replied as he accepted the card. The deputy nodded and returned to his vehicle.

  “What’s this about, Gabe?” I softly asked once we were alone again. I was scared out of my mind and trying so hard not to show it. Armed. Dangerous. Not interested in talking. The guy blamed Gabe for what happened to him. It was terrifying and I was certain it was the vision Emory had seen.

  “Let’s go inside,” he said, scanning the neighborhood as if he was looking for any signs that something wasn’t right.

  I took our empty glasses to the kitchen sink while Gabe locked up and set the alarm. I could see that he was struggling to decide what he could or should tell me. I wa
nted him to tell me everything, of course, but understood that he legally might not be able to share some things with me. Gabe tipped his head toward the staircase indicating that he wanted me to follow him. I wasn’t too surprised when he turned on the taps to run a bath for us. It was one of the places we felt comfortable enough to unburden our souls.

  I lowered myself between Gabe’s legs and reclined against his muscular chest once the bath was ready. The hot water worked wonders to ease my tense muscles and frayed nerves as I waited for Gabe to open up to me. When he did, I was horrified by the things his former partner allegedly did, and my heart broke for the kid’s family.

  “He was just a kid, who was mixed up in serious shit. I didn’t see evil when I looked into Ace’s eyes when I questioned him. I saw a scared kid who pretended to be smug. The only evil I saw was in Jimmy’s eyes when he told me the kid would’ve died anyway. Who thinks that way? Who doesn’t want these kids to have a chance at changing their lives? Who just thinks that a person deserves to die because he fucked up?”

  “Not you, baby,” I said, hoping to comfort him.

  “It’s about time that he stands trial for what he did,” Gabe said adamantly. “Early retirement wasn’t enough. He needs to be in prison.”

  “Hopefully he’ll screw up and get caught,” I told Gabe. “Surely his face is being plastered all over the media and internet as a wanted fugitive.”

  “I’m going to make sure his photo gets hung up around town so people can call if they see him. If he is coming after me, then everyone could be in danger.” I loved the fierceness in his voice because it helped me get past my fear. I reasoned that the man would be stupid to come after Gabe, but when has logic ever applied to revenge schemes? Still, sitting around and waiting for him to strike made no sense where reasonable action did.

  “That sounds like the time you hung up the picture of Buddy all over town,” I said, smiling at the memory. “I think you left them up for a few hours before you yanked them down.”

  “It was a full twenty-four hours,” Gabe replied while tweaking my nipple. “I wanted to give someone a chance to claim him if he escaped their yard, but I wanted it to be quick before I got attached to him. They didn’t call me within a day and I tore the signs down.”

  “He was meant to be your dog,” I told Gabe. “Of all the windows he could’ve cried beneath, he chose yours.”

  “How’d you know about the posters anyway?” Gabe asked.

  “I saw them hanging up and recognized the tile pattern on the kitchen floor, and I already had your phone number memorized, even though I didn’t want any part of you,” I confessed.

  “You wanted some parts of me,” he countered.

  “You mean the part that’s poking me right now?” I asked, wiggling my ass against his erection. “Truth is, Gabe, just like Buddy was meant to be your dog, I was meant to be your husband. No owner was going to come forth and claim him regardless of how long you left the posters up. No amount of my posturing and resisting was going to do anything but delay the time that I finally gave my heart to you.”

  “That’s beautiful,” Gabe whispered thickly.

  “So is your cock,” I said, unable to behave for too long. “I have big plans for it too, so what do you say we focus on the things we can control and worry about the rest later.”

  Gabe wrapped his hand around my dick and began stroking it. “I think you’re the smartest man I know.”

  Later, I lay in the darkness of our new bedroom that we broke in properly. The perfect name for our house occurred to me. It was okay to give our cars and each other cutesy names, but the place where we lay our heads at night needed a name with special significance. “I think we should call this place home,” I said out loud. Homes were more than just shelter; they were the walls that housed your dreams, kept you safe, and the place you slept beside the person you loved. It was a word that encompassed so many things.

  “Home, it is,” Gabe agreed.

  The next several days felt like I was living in an alternate universe; an unending dream-like state that would drop me into the happiest days of my life before yanking me out and throwing me into the scariest. When I was in high school, I was forced to read “A Tale of Two Cities” by Charles Dickens like every other kid in America. It was classic literature at its finest our teacher said, but it seemed like a bunch of confusing nonsense to a teenager who was coming out of his darkness to discover healthier, hornier ways of dealing with the grief from losing his brother.

  I found the book boring and depressing at the time, yet certain lines stuck with me two decades after reading it. Deputy Matthews’ visit to our home was a prime example of how something could be the best and worst of times. He implied that a fugitive on the run could be heading to kill me, which qualified as the worst part of that day. What came after though was the best time, not just because Josh was wet, naked, and open to my body, but because his heart was wide open and willing to share all the secrets it held.

  The days that followed had the same pattern. There were moments that were so brilliant and beautiful that they couldn’t possibly be real; like Josh blaring Barry White’s “Can’t Get Enough of Your Love, Babe” and trying to teach Savage and Sassy to dance to it. Yeah, I had that on video and would cherish that for the rest of my life. The darkest moments came when I realized that the rest of my life might not be as long as I wanted. I projected confidence that everything was fine and that there was no way Jimmy would be stupid enough to come after me, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was waiting for the right time to pounce.

  I did the only thing I could to make the people around me aware of the threat by distributing his Most Wanted poster all over town. I also made arrangements to take care of Josh should Jimmy get the best of me. I didn’t wait until after the wedding to change the beneficiary on my life insurance policy or the accounts where I had the rest of my inheritance tucked away. I woke up each morning sure that I would have a long, happy life with Josh and went to bed certain that he’d feel my love for him in other ways if I was wrong.

  Of all the things we planned for our wedding, a bachelor party had never been one of them. Somehow this shocked and outraged our friends. Instead of a cornhole battle, they began planning our parties without our input. Josh and I sat beside one another listening to them talk over each other as they tried to come up with plans that could involve both of us, but it became quite obvious that we didn’t always enjoy the same hobbies.

  “Golf,” Adrian suggested, which Sally Ann vetoed with a scowl.

  “Day spa,” she countered, earning equal scorn from Adrian.

  “Reds game,” Dorchester suggested.

  “Dinner and theater,” Deanna countered.

  Okay, so Josh and I weren’t the only couple with totally opposite interests. The debate went on for a while; I had no hope that we’d find a suitable compromise until Kyle spoke up.

  “Why does it have to be one or the other?” he asked. “Why can’t we start out with two separate outings then meet up later to celebrate as one large group?” No one said anything right away, so he continued. “One group plays golf in the morning then goes to a Reds game afterward. The other group does the day spa, dinner, and theater thing. All of us meet later at Vibe to dance and celebrate. We’ll stay at a hotel and use a cab or a car service so we don’t have to worry about driving.”

  It was the perfect compromise, but we only had one weekend before our wedding so I wasn’t sure we could pull it off. Ha! Our determined friends said otherwise. Once everyone decided which outing they were going on, they whipped out their cell phones and began booking hotel rooms and spa treatments, buying tickets for the game and theater, and made reservations for golf and dinner. Neither the Dorchesters nor the Goodes worried about finding a babysitter since Adrian’s and John’s parents lived close and were always wanting time with the grandbabies.

  The couples—and should-be couples—were split between both groups. In my opinion, we could have compro
mised even more so that the groups could’ve stayed together. It wasn’t that I was crazy about going to the theater, neither was Josh excited about the ballgame, but each day that passed without Jimmy’s apprehension felt like borrowed time with Josh. I couldn’t very well tell him that without freaking him out, so I kept my mouth shut and agreed to the plan.

  Jockeying back and forth between deliriously happy and scared out of my mind was catching up and wearing me down. I did my best to smile and laugh when it was appropriate on the afternoon we set out on our separate excursions. I kissed Josh goodbye in the hotel lobby and got in the car that Silver hired to drive us around. Emory seemed to accept his presence better once Silver followed him home the night of our barbecue, but I could see that he still wasn’t completely comfortable around him.

  I was off my usual golf game, which made Adrian happy. He could see that he was going to beat me for the first time since we started playing together not long after I moved to Blissville. He laughed and lived it up, which lifted my mood and made me smile. Not only was Adrian my best friend, but he was also a damn good detective, so I wasn’t at all surprised when he and Dorchester pulled me off to the side.

  “I can’t pretend to know what you’re going through right now, Gabe,” Adrian said. “I know that my words and assurances aren’t enough to erase your worry about De Soto targeting you, but the department is going to do everything they can to protect you both.”

  “Thanks, Adrian,” I told him. “One minute I’m convinced he’s long gone then the next I’m sure he’ll attempt to take me out before he’s captured.”

  “He’s not going to get close enough,” Dorchester said firmly.

  “Thanks, John,” I told him, wishing I could be as confident.