by K. S. Adkins
“What now?”
“I need answers,” she says. “Got anything?”
“Pretty sure I said I’d call you if I did.”
“When you ran the departments database which I know you did, did anything come up?” It’s almost scary how well she knows me. I ran the database and today’s meeting was my first stab at getting answers. Granted, I didn’t get any but you start with what’s familiar and work your way up. Someone knows something, question is who?
“You do realize that by asking me to this, let alone actually doing it, which I did, you’re pitting me against the very people I work for right?”
“Yes,” she says, unapologetic. “I know.”
“Yeah well, you’re onto something, but now isn’t the time to discuss it. Before you cut me off and order me around, I’ll let you know when the time is right and you’ll know it when I show up.”
“Is it as bad as I think it is?”
“It’s worse.”
“Can I protect Max?”
“No.” I tell her because until I know the whole truth, I can only speculate. If she only knew that we were living and working minutes from each other, she would shit. I need to lay low for a reason and right now she doesn’t get to know those reasons. Otherwise, Jules will steamroll and you don’t want to be around when she gets bossy.
“Can anyone protect Max?”
“Not when you’re too busy stirring up trouble, Red.” I warn her because yeah, the DPD is not thrilled with her in your-face-tactics. “I told you specifically not to let him in. Now when shit goes down, he can’t say he didn’t know because well, he does know.”
“He’s my partner!” she screeches at me. “What was I supposed to do?”
“He’s not your partner, you just like thinking he is.” I tell her truthfully. “He isn’t ready for this anymore than you’re ready to let him be a part of it. You brought him in too deep. Shit, you’re in too deep and until I know more, you need to fucking lay low.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Then I can’t do much to help you.”
“Bring me Gallo.”
“He’s a ghost,” I tell her, needing her to focus on someone else.
“Bullshit,” she says, trying to call me out.
“Focus on you, Red. There are too many variables here and until I know more, you’re flying blind. You can’t handle another angle so quit pushing for one.”
Hanging up on her before she pisses me off with her pushiness, I get on the road so I can head back and get ready. I almost started to panic about the fact that I was indeed getting ready. For a date. With him. I’ve never had a date, not a real one. But then reality crashed back in and I was thankful. Jules has the tact of a bull in a china shop when it comes to Max. She wants him safe and his name clear. I can’t do that until I know more. Yes, Hank is dirty. But how far does it go? He wasn’t smart enough to do this alone. She needs to focus on them and let me focus on this. If my meeting with the officers earlier was anything to go by, I’ve got my work cut out for me.
Arriving at Anthony’s place, I park next to him in the driveway and come in through the back door. He approaches me with a glass of wine and a smile. Oh fuck, now what do I do? I’m in jeans, a wife beater and flip flops.
“For you,” he says, kissing my check. “Take this and go get ready, I’ll wait.”
Suddenly nervous, I grab his arm stopping him. “Anthony,” I whisper, hoping my anxiety doesn’t show. “Be patient with me okay? And please tell me if I screw this up.”
“Did you buy a dress?”
“Yes.”
“Shoes?”
“Uh huh.”
“Do you want to have dinner with me?”
“Yes,” I whisper my confession, shocked to want this so badly. “I do.”
“Go get ready,” he whispers back. “Unless you need help?”
Laughing to hide my relief, I grab my things including the wine and skip up the steps. Let the record show, I was ready in under thirty minutes. Walking down the steps and seeing him in dress jeans, a tight crew of some sort, steel toed dress shoes and flowers in his hand, I found myself wet in under thirty seconds.
I’m breaking all sorts of records tonight.
I was home for the weekend. After playing basketball with Julian, I came home to find my father building a bird house. I thought it was odd being that he cut all the trees down two summers ago. “Where’s Mom?” I asked him.
“She went shopping with a friend,” he said, handing me a beer.
“Which friend?” I asked because my mother rarely leaves my father’s side willingly.
“Theresa,” he said taking a swig.
“Brent’s wife, right?”
“Yeah,” he said, looking over his work. “Listen,” he began, pulling two chairs out. “I need to talk to you.”
“Alright, Pops.”
“If something ever happens to me, I need you to look after her.” He looked in my eyes. “I need you to promise me, son.”
“I promise Pops, you know that. Things heating up at work?”
“No,” he said, looking away. “I just needed to know I could count on you, is all. I know that I can, Junior, but I had to say it. Does that make sense?”
“Yeah,” I told him. “I got it.”
“Another thing,” he said. “Women like flowers, they like compliments and if they were heels for you, you make sure you notice.”
“Pop?”
“Everything is fine,” he assured me. “I have to work tonight so check on your mom before you head back up to school alright?”
“Yeah Pop,”
“I love you, Anthony.”
“I love you too, Pop.”
I think even then he knew his time with us was limited. He was trying to prepare us for a life without him. But who was going to prepare me for a life without both of them?
When she came down from our room, the first thing I saw was her tiny feet sporting a hot pair of heels. Letting my eyes roam from her feet to her face, it was her smile that caught me. Unable to speak, not able to move, I extend my arm to give her a bouquet of flowers. She makes the final two steps with haste and carefully takes the flowers almost like she’s afraid of them. Staring at them for several seconds, I wonder if I’ve done something wrong. But then I remember she’s never done this before and she is caught off guard. In truth, I dated some girls in college, if keggers count, but since my parent’s deaths, revenge was my lover, not a woman. I was just as new to this as she was. My only source of romance was what I had learned from watching my parents. At that moment I wanted to do every romantic thing a man could do for a woman. I want to know what made her happy and make sure that she stays that way. Bottom line, I want her.
“Do you have a favorite flower?”
“I thought I liked them all equally,” she whispers, holding them tight “But I like these the best.”
“Daises are your favorite?”
“They are now.”
Her innocence humbled me. Unable to stay in place, I pull her to me then secure my arm behind her lower back and lean her back to kiss her. The second our mouths fused, it was over. I was lost. When her arms wrap around my neck, not letting go of her flowers, my chest knots up. She’s never been given flowers and really until her, I never had a reason to give them anyone except to my mom.
Not wanting to break the connection but needing to make our reservation, I slowly stand her back up and I’m rewarded by the dazed look on her face. “Let’s put those in water,” I advise her,
“Oh right, good idea.” she says, following me into the kitchen. Once that’s done, I turn and look at her and for the first time we’re almost equal in height. If by equal that means, I’ve still got five inches on her.
“Exactly how high are those heels?”
She giggles. “Six inch stilettos were not easy to find,” she admits. “I have freakishly small feet but Nordstrom’s caters to the shoe challenged like myself. With these babies o
n I’m at least five feet five inches of walking disaster.”
“Do they hurt?”
“Of course they hurt,” she says, batting her eyes at me. “The hotter the shoe, the more it hurts.”
“Then why would you wear them?”
“So I could be taller for you,” she says shyly. “I feel bad you’re always looking down.”
“I want you to be comfortable,” I tell her. “Not in pain.”
“The pain is worth it if you promise me a foot rub later,” she smiles. “I promise you’ll never hear me complain.”
“That was on the agenda anyway,” I say, taking her hand, “I wrote everything out while you were in the shower.”
“Very funny,” she says, catching my lie, or in this case, my joke. “Lead the way, but take my hand so I don’t face plant.”
Laughing, I do just that. Leading her out to my car and getting her in safely, I couldn’t wipe the smile off of my face if I tried. A date. With the most beautiful woman ever born. A woman who bought shoes to make herself taller, just for me.
We make small talk on the way to The Whitney. She tells me more about roller derby and I feel like a prick for what I said to her. Turns out the women she skates with are professionals, of every sort. Doctors, attorneys, teachers and even a few police officers. I misjudged her and them, so I apologized. She smiled like it was nothing, but to me, it was. They use it as a way to blow off steam, stay fit, and network, and I called them a bunch of adult clowns.
I tell her about my parents, a few memories that still make me smile, until we find ourselves in front of the restaurant ahead of time. Helping her out and wanting to rip the faces off of every man that stares at her, we are taken in, shown to our table and order a bottle of wine. The waiter pours our drinks while I order. When that was over I took a sip from mine, but she doesn’t.
“What’s wrong?”
Looking at her glass, then up to me, I see she’s made a decision to trust me some. “I usually drink to forget,” she says quietly. “I want to remember tonight, Anthony. All of it.”
“A glass or two over dinner isn’t forgetting, Lina,” I say, taking her hand. “I won’t let you over indulge, okay?”
“Okay,” she says, taking a sip. “I’ve never been here. I’ve never been given flowers or been on a date. You’re really good at this. I’m overwhelmed.”
“Every man in here wishes he was with you, but they aren’t, I am,” I tell her. “If you’re overwhelmed now just wait until we get home. I’m going to overwhelm the hell out of you.”
“I’m not afraid of you,” she says, laughing. “In fact, I think you want me scared. But guess what?” she asks, leaning close.
Leaning in myself I ask, “What?”
Smiling the most wickedly beautiful smile I’ve ever been given, she whispers, “I think you may be slightly afraid of me.”
“Is that right?”
“You’re getting hard just thinking about it, aren’t you? You want me just a little afraid don’t you?”
“Yes,” I admit, swallowing hard and trying my damndest not rub my cock under the table.
“I want you to reach under my dress,” she orders me. “No one will see you.”
Sliding my hand slowly up her thigh, when I reach her, she opens her legs slightly and when I find her soaking wet, I rub my thumb through it, coating my finger. She lets out a small moan, closing her eyes. “Fuck,” I groan. “Lina, you’re like this for me?”
“I’m like this for you constantly,” she pants. “I’ve never been much for dresses until tonight. Let’s get through dinner so you can finish this when we get back.”
“Home.”
“What?”
“Back home,” I tell her, rubbing her harder. “Repeat it. ‘When we get back home.’”
“Anthony,” she begs. “Don’t do this here. If you keep going, I’ll start screaming.”
“Say what I want to hear and you won’t scare the shit out of everyone in this room,” I tell her, picking up the pace. “But Lina, I can see you’re torn. Get off or say the words? What’s it going to be?”
“Dirty pool,” she says, latching onto my wrist while I work her over. “Home,” she whispers. “When we get back home.”
“Just in time.” I laugh in her ear. “The salad has arrived.”
Once we both recover by drinking more wine and focusing on our food, she surprises me even further by filling me in on Max and Jules. My man Max is fucking up left and right with his wife. Since the day I met him, she was all he could think about, but as it turns out, in wanting to protect her, he’s decided driving her away was the safest way to do it.
Idiot.
Jules isn’t handling it well. According to Lina, she is pissed he lied to her about seeing another woman and that he would go to such great lengths to push her away. In return, she is looking to finish Hank so she can leave. If that happens, he will lose her and it will be his own doing. Lina thinks Jules will prevail, but damn, that woman is far more patient than any woman should be. Adding another angle, Jules called her before we left for dinner and asked her to sit in on a call. Turns out another teammate by the name of Duffy arrived, used Max to get Jules to back off and Lina told her that her teammate was lying. Jules has a full plate. She also has a hard on to find me, but Lina keeps her at arm’s length.
For now.
While we let our food settle and sip our wine, I decide to be even more honest with her and hope it doesn’t blow up in my face. Lina is tough to read when it comes to Jules. She loves her deeply, but pretends she doesn’t. When she finds out what I’ve done, which is essentially what I’ve done to her, I may not be getting dessert.
“Max had me keep an eye on Jules over the years,” I begin. “Always from a distance of course, but he worried about her and I owed him at least that much. Your Jules is one resourceful woman.”
Her staring at me but not speaking, is making me nervous. When she blinks, then smiles, I can’t get a bead on the smile. It’s one I’ve yet to see. “So you’re the one,” she says, taking another sip of wine. “When she finds out the man she’s searching for is the one who’s followed her all these years, you may want to up your insurance policy.”
“It was a favor to Max,” I remind her. “It was mostly making sure she was safe and even when she was hurt, I didn’t tell him. I didn’t want to betray her like that. She’s an interesting woman,” I say, picking up my glass. “I can see why he loves her so much.”
“Thank you,” she says, “for making sure she was okay. She has a tendency to shoot first and forget to ask questions later.”
“You two have a lot in common.”
“It was one time,” she laughs. “You had it coming anyway, showing up so cocky and sure of yourself. Tell me,” she says, leaning forward. “Did you read what was on the flash drive?”
“You know I did,” I laugh in return. “I fell asleep half way through, but what I did absorb was mind blowing.”
“Profiling is mind blowing?”
“No,” I say, helping her stand up. “You are.”
Speechless, she takes my hand when I offer it and together we head over to valet. On the way home she plugs her phone in and plays various tracks. One in particular stands out. I thought I was alone in my love for Harry Connick Jr. I asked her about it.
“The way he sings,” she says, “I think that’s what love must feel like.”
“Favorite song of his?” I ask, taking her hand and kissing her knuckles.
“‘Let’s just kiss,’” she says, smiling. “I think it’s the most beautiful song I’ve ever heard. What’s yours?”
“His cover of ‘The Way You Look Tonight,’” I say, looking at her briefly. “You look beautiful. I should have said so earlier, but I didn’t want to overwhelm you further.”
“It’s going to take me some time to process all this, Anthony,” she whispers, squeezing my hand. “Thank you for an amazing night.”
“Night’s not over yet, gorgeo
us,” I tell her, turning into my sub. “In fact, it may be just getting started.”
She grins and unplugs her phone, tucking it in her bag. I take the last corner to the house a lot faster a lot faster than usual, anxious to get her behind closed doors. Laughing, she grabs the door handle to keep from sliding around in the seat. “Someone’s in a hurry,” she says, righting herself.
“You have no idea,” I groan.
Then, sliding her hand over my cock that’s been stuffed into my jeans since dinner, she looks me right in the eyes and says, “Yes, I do.”
Flying into my driveway, throwing it in park, I no sooner reach for my buckle and she’s on me. She undoes my belt, slides her dress up over her thighs and straddles me. Running her hands through my hair, she gets two fists full, leans my head back and fuses her mouth with mine. Right then and there I decided this gentleman shit may not work on her. I was also really fucking conflicted about that too.
“I am not a whore, my vagina is just high maintenance,” I tell Jules in my haughtiest voice. When she stays quiet it’s obvious she doesn’t approve of my she-whore ways. “Seriously, Red just because you keep it tight for one man doesn’t mean I can. I don’t have a man. I’m just auditioning the local talent.”
Sighing into the phone, she goes Mother Theresa on me. “You’re better than random, Lina. Come on, don’t go out tonight.”
Rolling my eyes and taking a breath, I answer her. “I don’t have a Max waiting for me. I don’t have anyone waiting for me. In fact, I’ve busted three vibrators and a bottle of pinot grigio in the last week. Don’t ask. What I’m saying is, love isn’t for everyone, but cock is.”
“Actually, cock is not for everyone, Lina,” she says, outsmarting me.
“Whatever,” I tell her. “I don’t care which team you play for, cock is involved somehow. Just don’t do it while drinking wine out of a bottle. Bad news.”
“Hey Lina?”
“Yeah?”
“Just be careful, alright?”