“Kiss my ass,” I said as answer.
I got girl smiles and man chuckles to that.
Whatever.
“A brother can be in a nursing home and make babies. Not you, sister, so you best be gettin’ the lead out.”
This advice came from Ryker.
I turned my attention to him.
Everyone went silent.
That meant everyone knew about Ryker’s matchmaking too.
I said nothing.
Ryker said nothing.
I won our staring contest when he prompted, “You just gonna stand there and stare at me?”
“I’m not standing here staring at you. I’m waiting for you to grow wings and hover over us with your golden bow and arrow,” I returned.
Ryker grinned his scary grin. “As you’ve experienced, I kick fuckin’ ass with my golden bow and arrow.”
“Just to say, the ’burg can do without your version of Cupid,” I remarked.
“I can wait for the gratitude,” Ryker declared magnanimously. “You and Merrick can name your first kid after me.”
“Dude, Merry and me got our shit together. Your bullshit coulda fucked us up,” I shared.
“Tell yourself that,” Ryker replied.
My eyes narrowed. “How thick is your skin?”
“I’m half reptilian,” he returned. “The alligator kind.”
“Okay, how thick is your skull?” I kept at him.
“Not as thick as yours, you wasted years before you fell on your man’s dick,” he retorted.
I shouldn’t have even started this.
So it was time to end it.
“I’m feelin’ like making tips tonight, not cleanin’ up blood,” I decreed.
“Like you could cut me,” Ryker scoffed.
“Don’t underestimate a pissed off woman,” I warned.
“That’s why I got sugar in my bed, not spice. Don’t ever need to worry about that shit,” Ryker stated.
This was going nowhere.
“I need to get to work,” I muttered, turning to the office.
“Cher,” Ryker called.
I sighed and looked back to him.
“Lissa’s over the moon,” he shared.
That might be true, but it was Ryker who was happy for me.
“You’re all soft under all that crazy,” I replied.
He grinned a grin that many children would witness and have nightmares for decades.
“Don’t tell anyone.”
I rolled my eyes and walked to the office to get rid of my purse. When I walked out, Dee was out on the floor with her tray, which meant I was back of the bar with Feb.
I got the lay of the land, made some drinks, then hit my posse at the end.
“You ready for your show?” I asked Dusty.
She made pottery. It was awesome pottery, but I didn’t get it since she also made a shit-ton of money off it. Apparently, some people really liked pottery. Enough to spend hundreds of dollars on just one piece.
“Yeah,” she answered. “And I’ve set a piece aside to give to you and Merry for your wedding.”
I narrowed my eyes at her. “Don’t you start with that shit. You’re a chick. You’re supposed to have my back.”
“It’s more fun to mess with you,” she returned.
Damn.
I should have seen it coming.
Dusty was a lot like me. She had some girlie in her but not much. Mostly she was a straight shooter who had it completely together.
I lifted my hand and did a sweep of the far end of the bar, declaring, “I think Feb can cover you all with drinks.”
“Weak,” Cal grunted.
“I need to be in a good disposition to earn tips,” I retorted.
“Why?” he shot back. “You been earnin’ tips for years not in one.”
He had a point.
“You can kiss my ass too,” I returned.
“Lame,” he muttered.
He was not wrong.
God, with Merry giving me the warm and squishy, making me happy, I was losing my edge.
I wasn’t proud of continuing the lameness, but I actually did have to earn tips.
So I muttered back, “Whatever,” and wandered down the bar.
The night wore on and it was Friday at J&J’s. Time to herald in the weekend and do it right by going out, throwing a few back, and communing with your ’burg brethren.
So I was busy.
And it was much later when the opportunity was afforded to him.
Being Benny, he took it.
Cal was deep in conversation with Ryker and Colt, Vi at his side, his arm curled around her neck, holding her close. And Mike, Dusty, and Frankie were gabbing with Dee, who was standing with them, carrying a full tray of empties.
Benny was in on the Cal conversation, but he made himself free to catch my eyes when I was forced down their way to nab a bottle of beer that was in the fridge closest to them.
“Happy?” he asked quietly, just for me.
“Yeah,” I answered quietly, just for him.
“Good,” he replied and gave me the flash of his white, movie star smile.
He was wrong.
It wasn’t good.
It was beautiful.
But I didn’t correct him.
I looked to his pregnant wife, then back to him.
He knew what beauty meant.
I shot him a return smile.
Then, before anyone noticed our moment and gave me shit about it, I ended it and got back to work.
* * * * *
Saturday Afternoon
I slid my lips up Merry’s throat as the last tremors of my orgasm drifted out of me.
I could tell the last of Merry’s were still with him at the thick gruffness of his voice when he murmured, “Seems my brown-eyed girl can make love.”
I smiled.
My kid was at a friend’s house, hanging out.
And I was at Merry’s condo, trying my hand at giving as good as I got.
Seemed I’d succeeded.
I slid my lips to his jaw.
I was on top, Merry still inside since we’d just finished, his arms around me tight. But as my lips drifted, his arms loosened so his hands could float light and sweet over the skin of my back.
“Got the reservation at Swank’s, baby. Six thirty. That good?” Merry told me.
“Yeah,” I told his jaw, wondering what I was going to wear and hoping one of Ethan’s two dress-up outfits still fit him.
“And got a lock on tickets for the Colts’ next home game. Need to know from you if I should get two or if Feb can make it so you can come with us.”
At his words, my head shot up and I looked in his eyes.
“What?”
“Colts versus Saints. Sunday after next. Can you get Feb to arrange that day off?”
“You’re buyin’ tickets?” I asked.
“Uh…yeah. Just said that, babe.”
“Colts tickets are expensive, Merry.”
“Maybe, Cherie, but Ethan told me he’d never been to a game.”
I shook my head. “He hasn’t, but…Swank’s…” I let that hang since that said it all.
And what it said was that he was a cop, not a Rockefeller. Dinner at Swank’s for four could easily set him back close to five hundred bucks. I’d never been to a Colts game either, so I didn’t know how much tickets cost. But I knew they didn’t give them away.
“Yes, that’s his present,” Merry confirmed. “Steak you can cut with a fork and a Colts game.”
I stared down at him, totally uncertain what to do.
Because in all the boons Merry had given me, straight up, this was the one that was the most amazing.
It was also one I had to control.
“Gorgeous,” I started carefully, “I love the generosity, but you’d break the bank if you try to give him all the things he hasn’t gotten in life.”
“Brown eyes,” he returned, sounding like he was being careful too, “he’s already gotten all
the important things he needs to get in life. He’s smart, so he knows that. And since he’s smart and knows that, appreciates it, and shows that by bein’ a good kid and lookin’ after his mom and grandma, he should be rewarded for being the good kid he is by being able to go to a Colts game.”
“You’re lookin’ at buyin’ a house,” I reminded him.
“There’s always gonna be houses. But there’ll only be this one opportunity to take a newly-turned eleven-year-old boy to his first Colts game.”
That feel hit my eyes, and when it did, it hit simultaneously in my throat and my belly.
Merry’s face warmed.
He knew what I was feeling.
And he knew me, so he didn’t say shit about it.
He asked, “So, you gonna ask Feb for the day off?”
“Yeah, I’m gonna ask Feb for the day off.”
His hands stopped drifting on my back and he wrapped his arms around me. “Then I’ll get three tickets.”
I shoved my face in his neck and muttered, “That’d be cool, Merry.”
We lay there together, connected, a girl who never allowed herself to dream, lying on top of a dream come true.
When it was time, Merry slid me up to slide himself out of me. He shifted us. He shifted the covers. He went to the bathroom to deal with the condom. And he came back, shifting us so I was exactly where I’d been before he’d moved me.
Lying on top of a dream come true.
“Why Rivers?”
Merry asked that, and hearing it, I lifted my head to look at him again.
“Why what?”
“Rivers, baby. You could have picked any last name you wanted. I like it. It’s cool. But why’d you pick Rivers?”
I shrugged, dropped my head, and nuzzled my face in his throat again while giving him the simple answer.
“I like water.”
“You like water?”
I nodded against his neck and gave him more.
“Mom’s always been a waitress. Dad’s always been a deadbeat. She couldn’t give me a lot, but she tried to make sure every summer we went on vacation. Without any money, we didn’t go far and we didn’t have much. Shitty motels. Diner food. But she did her best. And she always found water. Driving us to some lake. Putting our asses on a Greyhound down to Florida and hitting some seedy hotel, but one that was on a beach. We didn’t give a shit it was seedy or cheap. I was an asshole to her, but not on vacation. We had fun. We relaxed. We forgot life sucked.”
I lifted my head to look at him and kept talking.
“Good times. The only really good times probably for the both of us that weren’t clouded by the shit of life or my bent to be a pain in her ass. So I like water. Maybe it’s because I just like water. But I think it’s because Mom busted her ass to give me those times and it means something to me because my mom means something to me. And because it reminds me she gave me the most important thing I ever got—all I need to be a good mom to the kid I got. I couldn’t call myself Cher Lake or Cher Ocean or Cher Beach. So I picked Rivers. It works.”
“Yeah,” he said. “It works.”
But the way he said that, my attention on him sharpened.
And when I saw what I was pretty sure I saw, I accused, “You’re plannin’ a vacation for you, me, Ethan, and maybe even my mom somewhere near water, aren’t you?”
The faraway look in his eyes vanished and he smiled at me.
“Caught,” he whispered.
God, it had happened.
No, it kept happening.
I’d hoped. For the first time I’d hoped—hoped I was wrong that life couldn’t get better.
And he kept proving me wrong.
“You’re never gonna get a new house at this rate,” I warned.
“Yeah, I am,” he replied. “Shower sex with you is fantastic. Sink sex with you is out of this fuckin’ world. But you only got one bathroom in your pad and your boy is right next door to that and right across the hall from your room. And when you and Ethan come for sleepovers, I’m good with getting creative but not a big fan of having my options limited. So at least one of us needs a house that offers me options. Since it’s doubtful you can even disassemble your tribute to the flower generation and reassemble it in a new place, much less wanna do that, it’s up to me to find it. And a man will go to great lengths for options, which include the possible option of future vacation sex.”
“You’re gonna break the bank in order to secure fuck options?” I asked.
“Am I a man?”
“Yes.”
“Then do you realize that’s a stupid question?”
I started laughing. “Yes.”
“So I won’t bother answering it.”
I gave in to laughing.
As I was doing it, Merry joined me at the same time he rolled me so I had his weight and heat covering me.
When I was done, I slid a hand up his chest to cup his jaw.
“Prepare for gooey,” I warned.
His eyes were still lit with humor, but with my words, one side of his lips tipped up.
“Sock it to me.”
I didn’t delay in socking it to him.
“You don’t just make me happy, Merry. You keep making me happier.”
His face got warmer and more beautiful than ever.
“That’s the goal, brown eyes,” he whispered.
“You’re an overachiever,” I whispered back.
He didn’t reply.
He kissed me.
Then it was his turn to make love to me.
And there it was again.
Merry making me happier.
* * * * *
Garrett
Monday Morning
Garrett slid the pancakes he’d made in front of Ethan, who was sitting at the table.
He headed back to Cher’s stove.
Cher was at the countertop, bent over it, the ball of one foot resting on top of the other one, her eyes to a pad of paper on the counter.
“You’re still into the Star Wars theme?” she asked the paper, her question directed to her son.
“Yeah, Mom,” Ethan answered his pancakes, slathering butter on them.
“R2-D2 cake?” she went on, scribbling on the paper.
“Yep,” Ethan confirmed.
“Chocolate?” she kept going.
“Affirmative.” Ethan was now soaking his pancakes in syrup.
No.
Submerging them.
Watching that, Garrett felt his lips tip up before he turned his gaze to his woman. “How many pancakes you want, babe?”
“Two,” she muttered distractedly, still scribbling. “Thanks, gorgeous.”
He turned to the griddle and poured batter.
He was putting the bowl aside when he heard a noise like someone was shoving air with their tongue through clenched teeth.
He cut his gaze to Cher.
She was still bent over the counter but twisted to look down her side at him, her lips pressed together, eyes big, and she jerked her head.
He had no fucking clue what that was about.
He was going to learn.
She twisted back to look at her boy.
“Haven’t heard from your dad, kid.” She drew in breath and then offered, “You want me to give him a call? You’ve never invited him, Peg, and the kids, though they know about your extravaganzas and probably would wanna come. You think this year’s the year?”
That was what it was about. She needed him alert and at her back when she introduced something that might be tough to talk about with Ethan.
Or, more to the point, she needed him alert for Ethan.
Fuck, that felt good.
“Don’t call. Don’t care he comes or not,” Ethan muttered, shoving pancake in his mouth.
She gave it a few beats before she suggested, “It’s been a while, honey. Maybe you should give him a call.”
Ethan, chewing, looked to his mom and swallowed.
“It’s been a while, yeah. You
think that’s long enough for him to learn not to be a loser?” he asked.
Garrett saw in profile as Cher bit her lip.
That meant no.
“Right,” Ethan said, and looked back to his pancakes. “Don’t care he’s not at my party. Really won’t care if he doesn’t give me a call. It’s not his birthday that’s comin’ up. He’s missed a bunch of mine. His choice whether he’s gonna miss more.”
“You did tell him you didn’t want to see them again,” she reminded her boy.
“If I told you that, would you leave me alone forever and ever?” Ethan returned.
Cher bit her lip again.
That time it meant not a fucking chance.
Yeah.
Ethan Rivers might be only nearly eleven, but he had his head screwed on straight.
Cher opened her mouth, but Garrett said quickly and quietly, “He’s right, baby.”
She twisted to look down her body at him again.
“If Schott wants a part of Ethan’s life, he’s gotta make the effort,” Garrett finished.
She took Garrett in. She twisted back and took her son in.
Then she said, “Right,” and looked at her pad of paper.
She was blowing it off, but it was pretend. He saw the tense line of her shoulders.
She was worried about her kid, but she wasn’t going to baby him. She was going to let him make his own decisions.
It was a good call. It was time for her to give Ethan that and for Ethan to learn how to do it right.
He’d touch base with her later, after he dropped Ethan at school, to make sure she was good.
Garrett turned back to the stove and flipped the pancakes.
Then he felt it, so he turned back.
Ethan was looking at him.
He had a weird look on his face. Suddenly, his shoulders came up really high, almost to his ears.
He mouthed, “Thanks,” quickly dropped his shoulders, and gave his attention back to his food.
Garrett looked back to the griddle.
In his line of work, Garrett had seen it time and again.
As much of a loser as Trent Schott was, any boy felt the absence of a father straight through everything that he was.
Everything.
With a good father who wasn’t perfect but gave it his best shot, Garrett didn’t know if it was better to have that hole go unfilled than to have some moron make a half-assed attempt to fill it. And with Dave as his dad, Garrett would never know the answer to that.
He just had to hope that one day Ethan would find him and share it so he could do whatever he could to help him get past it.
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