Red Nights

by Shari J. Ryan

  I take his hand and smooth my thumb over his knuckles. “She was lucky to have you.” I don’t know how I’m not bawling my eyes out, but something inside me is making me stay strong for him. Like he did for me.

  “I can’t go more than a minute without thinking about her. Thinking about the future she’s missing out on.”

  I place my hand over his heart. “She’s in here.” I sweep my hand up his chest and over his chin, pulling it toward me. “And I’m here for you. I’ll help you find him.”

  He takes my hand from his chin and rests it on his leg. “No. I’ve made the decision to let the other detectives on the case handle it from now on. Before, I didn’t care if I went to prison for killing this guy. I didn’t care about much of anything—even living.” He leans over and presses his lips softly over my cheek, whispering, “But now I do.” He wraps his arm around my shoulders and twirls a strand of my hair around his finger. “Do you think it’s crazy that I feel like Ella sent you to me? Like maybe she knew you’d be the one to save me from making the worst decision of my life?”

  “I’d only think you’re crazy if I didn’t believe that Blake sent you to me to save me from making the worst decision of my life, too.”

  “What decision would that have been?” he asks.

  “I could have ended up back with Tanner—a sociopath killer, and it would have only taken one wrong move to end up like half of those girls on that list.”

  “Fate. We’re fate.” He pulls my legs over his and cups his hands around my cheeks, pressing his mouth ever so lightly against mine.

  “I love you,” I whisper against his lips. “So much.”

  “And I you, Blondie-locks.”

  Time does not always heal, but it eases. Our pain is like the earth, slowly moving, never really changing, and always seeking the light of another day.

  * * *

  I’m so glad to have my arm free from that stupid thing. Managing the kitchen with a cast on my arm for the past six weeks was so annoying, and I’m thankful Aspen came back when she did. She saved my ass. Plus, Grant is starting to trust her again, which might have something to do with the fact that she’s pregnant and has shown maturity, as well as a calmer demeanor. She told me she’s going to do whatever it takes to prove her worth at the restaurant, since she needs a steady income to take care of the baby. So far, she’s holding true to that.

  “Are you sure you’re okay on your own tonight?” I ask Aspen.

  “Don’t be crazy. I’m fine. We’re all fine. Right, boys?” she calls out to the kitchen staff.

  “Yes, Aspen,” they croon in unison. She has these men eating out of the palm of her hand, which bodes well for her leadership skills. Some things never change, I guess.

  “Do you think you’ll still be celebrating at the bar when I get out?” she asks.

  “Well, he is turning thirty, after all. Now that he’s an old man, he may not make it past eleven,” I laugh. “I’m guessing we’ll still be at O’Rourke’s. Just give me a call first.”

  “I’m kidding. Sleep sounds way more fun right now.” Aspen gives me a hug, poking her enlarged belly into my stomach.

  “Your little man is getting in the way now.”

  A proud smile stretches from ear to ear and she cradles her belly in her hands. “Yes, he is.”

  “Thanks again,” I holler, running through the kitchen doors.

  * * *

  As I hop out of my car, I check the time, noting I have an hour before he gets home. He’s been putting in some more hours at the firm now that the one-year sabbatical he took from the police force is coming to an end. I don’t think he’s going back to work there, and now that I know why he doesn’t want to, I can’t say I blame him. The firm he’s been working for wants to bring him on full-time and I think it’s a much better option for him.

  I jog up the stairs to his condo and let myself in. I’m greeted by a warm, furry nudge from Lady. After taking her for a quick walk, I get moving on my infamous mac and cheese with hot dogs—the birthday special.

  He asked me not to do anything big tonight. The whole celebration thing doesn’t feel right to him, and I completely understand the guilt that comes with continuing on after life has been taken from us. I will never be able to celebrate another one of my birthdays the same way again. That is something Blake and I always shared and I could never do it without him. But I’ve promised that I will go to the park every year on the night of our birthday and search the stars for him. It’s the only way we can spend our birthday together like we always have.

  Just as I’m pulling the casserole dish out of the oven, Hayes barges through the door. His sense of smell is clearly in tip-top shape as he shouts, “Na-ah.” He walks into the kitchen and reaches around me to lift the tinfoil off the pan. “You made me mac and cheese with hotdogs.” He plants a big wet kiss on my cheek and gives me a bear hug until I gasp for air. “That might be the cutest thing you’ve done yet.”

  “I figured we’d have a bite to eat, then go down to O’Rourke’s?”

  “That sounds like the best birthday ever.” His arms loop around my waist and his lips find the spot on my neck that makes me turn into mush. “The food needs to cool,” he whispers into my ear, scooping me up and bringing me down the hall to his room. When he lies me down on the bed, he hovers over me with a hint of a smile. “Move in with me.”

  This may have been a much harder decision if I still had a house, but my apartment doesn’t count as a home. It has been nothing more than a temporary fixture in my life. Even though I have the insurance money from my house now, I haven’t been ready to make a decision on which direction to go, and now I’m kind of glad I didn’t. “Geez, I don’t know, Hayes. Sharing a bed with you every night…it’s something I should probably put some thought into.”

  “Maybe I can persuade you,” he says, rolling my shirt up to my neck as his lips trail along the center of my body and up to my chin, around my neck and to my impatient lips. He pulls his shirt off, still hovering over me, giving me his most devious grin. When he lets me look at him at this angle—at the dips and grooves of his perfectly defined torso—I’ll give in to whatever he wants.

  Not that I don’t want the same thing.

  I drag my fingertips down the length of his body as he falls onto me, instantly taking my breath away. Clawing at the remaining articles of clothing, I watch his every move, his every expression. I listen to his every breath and groan. He’s like an addiction; he’s now the substance I crave. He gives me a release that instantly makes me crave more, like nothing is ever going to be enough.

  Each thrust is another drag of gratification. Each moan is a sigh of relief. The velocity of his heavy movements is like the adrenaline rush I crave. And when there’s only one last inhale left to take, our bodies come to the point of liquefying against each other.

  “I suppose I will need my daily fix, you know,” I say, breathing heavily against him, “to keep the other addiction away.”

  “Is that a ‘yes,’ Blondie-locks?”

  I lift my head, snagging his lip between my teeth. “Yes. I will move in with you and Lady.”

  “Me and two blondes. Damn, I’m a lucky dog.” I push myself up on my elbows, giving him the look. The look I give him in response to every one of his jokes. I think he likes the look because the jokes just get worse. But I love them. And him.

  I flip him over onto his back, pinning him under my hands. “You’re lucky I find you cute.” I kiss his nose before pressing off of him and slipping my clothes back on. “Get dressed. Dinner’s getting cold.”

  “Oh God. You haven’t even moved in yet and you’re already turning into a bossy-pants.”

  * * *

  A series of hoots and hollers echo from a dozen older men at the bar. They knew it was his birthday, and it wasn’t because I told them, so along the bar sits what looks like thirty shots. “You guys are out of your minds,” Hayes says, patting a couple of them on the back.

  “We’ll gi
ve you a hand,” one of them says through laughter. “You’re over the hill now, kid.”

  It doesn’t take long for us to get through at least two-thirds of the shots. The beers are flowing as well and the volume of noise is growing louder. Hayes has a smile from ear to ear, and it warms my heart to see him enjoying his birthday.

  His arm swings around my neck as he places a firm kiss on the top of my head. “I love this girl,” he shouts. Andddd he’s drunk. He lifts me up and places me on a stool in front of him.

  “You’re crazy,” I tell him, poking him in the nose.

  “Maybe I am. And maybe it’s crazy that I don’t just want you to move in,” he whisper-slurs his words. I have no idea what he means or what he’s about to say, but he’s obviously not thinking straight.

  “Let’s talk about that when we get back to your condo,” I tell him.

  “Get back hooooome you mean? Our condo?”

  I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him gently over his top lip. “Home.” The word doesn’t feel so foreign any more. His arms tighten around my back and he presses in between my legs. “I really love you, Blondie-Locks.”

  “When you two gettin’ married?” A guy pops his head in between us, looking back and forth with a shit-eating-grin. “Huh?”

  “Get out of here, Doughnut,” Hayes says, pressing his hand against the guy’s forehead.

  “His name is Doughnut?” I ask, stifling my laugh since the guy is only a couple of feet away.

  “It’s just what we call him. You are what you eat, right, Doughnut?” Hayes shouts, turning around and slapping the guy’s gut.

  Doughnut shuffles toward the other side of the bar where his drink awaits him. Hayes turns back around, wrapping his arms around me again. When he looks at me…those eyes, I get lost in them. And yet, he’s the one looking at me like there isn’t another person in this place. “When are we getting married?” he asks.

  My breath hitches in my throat. I’m completely blindsided by what he just asked me. I know he’s intoxicated. Like, really intoxicated. And this isn’t the time or place for this conversation. “You’ve had a lot to drink, crazy.” The high-pitched tone in my voice makes his dimples deepen. Those dimples.

  “Sober thoughts come out in drunken words.”

  What’s left to do other than look him in the eyes and believe everything he’s saying? Because I think I want to. “Fine,” I say, pressing my finger into his chest. “If you’re serious, ask me again tomorrow.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  I FORCE MY EYES OPEN, feeling the heaviness of last night weighing over my body, and I turn to see Hayes already awake and staring at me. I didn’t have nearly as much to drink as he did, but my tongue is fuzzy and I can feel my make-up caked on in places it shouldn’t be. I must look like hell. And yet, he looks as charming as usual. Not fair. “That was a birthday for the books,” he says.

  “I’m glad you had fun,” I rasp. As my thoughts accumulate, I want to know what he remembers from last night, but I don’t exactly want to ask either.

  “Fun doesn’t cover it,” he winks.

  “You were pretty drunk last night,” I say, hoping he’ll say something like, “Yeah, but I still remember everything.” But he doesn’t say anything close to that. He combs his fingers through my hair, pushing it out of my face and twisting it behind my back. “I guess I had a little too much, too.” My stomach feels like there’s a water balloon bouncing around inside. Blech.

  “Well, I’m glad you had fun. The guys love you.” Would he be so sure of that if he didn’t remember what happened last night? “At least I think so.” He laughs. “I guess everything’s a little hazy right now.”

  Oh. That’s what I was afraid of. “I’ll go make us some breakfast,” I say, slipping out from under the sheets.

  “Hey,” he shouts out to me seconds after I’ve left the bedroom. “Are you mad about something?”

  “No,” I reply. Do I sound mad? Maybe a little flustered about last night, but I’m not mad. At least, I don’t think I’m mad. We’ve only been together for a few months. It had to be the alcohol talking.

  I hear a groan as his feet thump down the hall. “I know when you’re mad,” he says, wrapping his arms around me as I pull a pan down. “Did I do something stupid last night?”

  “Lots of stupid things,” I say, trying to make a joke of it. “You weren’t making much sense for a while there.”

  He presses his lips against my neck. “Well, I apologize if I said something to upset you.”

  I’m not sure I want him to apologize for what he said.

  * * *

  Re-runs for eight hours straight is something everyone should do to cleanse their mind. Neither of us moved, other than to go to the bathroom, and now the sun is setting. “We should consider a meal that doesn’t consist of a bag of chips,” I say.

  “I’ll eat real food when you tell me why you’re mad at me.” Why does he think I’m mad? I haven’t said a word or even hinted at being angry.

  “Hayes, I’m not mad.” I laugh, but my laugh sounds fake, and I’m not sure why. Ugh. I need to clear my head. I don’t even know what I’m thinking right now.

  “Come on, let’s take Lady for a walk,” he says.

  “Sure.” I pull on my sweatshirt and step into my shoes.

  “Aren’t you going to be cold? It’s supposed to be pretty chilly tonight,” he asks, handing me his coat. “Here, for old time’s sake. Wear this.” He drops it down over my shoulders and pulls my hair out from beneath the collar.

  “What are you going to wear?” I ask.

  “I’ll be fine.” He hooks Lady up to the leash and grabs the keys. “Ready?”

  We walk down the street, approaching the park. Hayes takes me by the hand, leads me over to my spot and sits down in the grass, pulling Lady to sit down beside him. I drop and lay my head across his lap, looking up into the dark, clear sky. “Hmm.”

  “You okay?” he asks.

  “The sky isn’t red tonight.” It’s been fading gradually, but tonight’s the first night I don’t see it at all.”

  “You’re mind is healing.”

  “I’m healing because of you.” I look up at him from his lap and he looks down at me at the same time, a cautious expression touching his face.

  “I know what I said last night,” he says. I sit up and turn toward him, unsure of where he’s going with this. I’m feeling a million things right now, but not one of them is clarity. “And I know that’s why you’ve been acting weird all day.”

  “Oh,” I say, sounding relieved or maybe more confused, I can’t tell.

  “I love you, but—”

  My heart is already hurting. Not that I should be expecting a stupid commitment so soon, but I don’t want to hear whatever the but is. It could be anything. Like he’s never getting married, or things are moving too fast, or I’m not the right person for him. “But?”

  “I want a year,” he says. “Exactly one year from tonight, right here under the same stars and the same sky, I want to ask you what I asked you last night. I want to do it the right way. I don’t want it to be another way to heal our pain or to forget about what we need a break from thinking of. I want it to be because we spend the next year falling even more in love with each other. I want to experience life without tragedy with you. I want everything with us to be normal. Even if it’s a new normal.” I have tears pouring from my eyes because this feels right. So unbelievably right. And I need that. I need this type of normalcy, and I need it with him. He wipes away my tears. “Let me show you three hundred and sixty-five reasons why you’ll want to be with me forever.”

  I thought I had been in love before. I was wrong. I was so, so wrong. This is love. This is real heart-wrenching, stomach twisting, take my breath away love.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Three-Hundred and Sixty-Four Days Later

  I WALK IN THE DOOR to find Hayes sprawled across the couch in his boxer briefs watching the game. “Comforta
ble?” I joke.

  He reaches his hand out for me. “Join me and I will be.” I kick my shoes off and plop down on his lap. “How are Aspen and the little guy?”

  “Aspen is exhausted, but little Blake is so friggin’ cute, I don’t think she realizes or cares that she’s been wearing the same t-shirt for the last three days. He’s really starting to look more like Blake every day.”

  “Tell her I have tomorrow off if she needs me to grab her anything from the store.”

  “I will.” I press my hand into his chest. “Wait. Why do you have tomorrow off? It’s Tuesday. And Wednesday’s your birthday. Why wouldn’t you take that day off?” I know what tomorrow is.

  Tomorrow is the three hundred and sixty-fifth day.

  “I don’t really have it off I guess. I’m just delivering some papers to a few different clients and working from home the rest of the day.” He hasn’t said a word about what tomorrow is. He hasn’t said a word about it since that night in the park. I suppose he could have changed his mind or isn’t ready yet. I’m not going to ask him, though. That’d be weird.

  “Oh, Mom wants us to come to the restaurant tonight. She wants you to try a new dish she came up with. Evidently my opinion doesn’t matter when it comes to her food now that you’re around.” He looks playfully annoyed. And I feel a jolt of excitement. He must have been reading my mind, being so worried that he forgot. He wants to bring me to his mom’s restaurant tonight. He must think I’m oblivious.

  “Are you going to put pants on for the occasion?” I ask.

  “I was thinking about it.” He sits up and clicks the TV off. “Oh, by the way: don’t think I’ve forgotten what tomorrow is. I also know what today is, so don’t go assuming I’m being all romantic and stuff and springing any surprises on you the night before.”