by Susan Stoker
“I’m afraid all this will be taken away, just like everything else good in my life has been.”
“Then don’t let it,” Sophie retorted. “Fight for it. Let us help you. No s-strings attached, Blythe. I promise.”
A vision suddenly popped into Blythe’s mind. She could see herself sitting in a chair holding an infant, surrounded by a roomful of laughing people. Her friends. Children ran around screaming in joy as they played. Everywhere she looked, she saw smiles and happiness.
Then she felt a hand on her shoulder, and as the man behind her leaned close, Blythe knew it was Sawyer. She recognized him by his scent. His hand caressed her arm as he interlaced his fingers with hers under the baby in her arms. He turned his head, and Blythe shivered as his warm breath wafted over her neck and ear when he whispered, “The happiest day of my life was the day you became my wife, but seeing you sitting here, holding our child, surrounded by the most important people in our lives, just might top it.”
She blinked as Sophie brought her out of her vivid daydream by asking, “Blythe? You okay?”
It had seemed so real.
With a pang, Blythe realized she wanted that dream. Wanted that child, that life.
And in order to get it, she had to accept the fact that she needed help. She didn’t want to live on the streets for the rest of her life. She wanted Sawyer. And his child. To be in the middle of a large group of friends who treated each other like family.
“I’m not going to disappear,” she told Sophie. “I don’t know what I’m going to do or how I’m going to get back on my feet, but I promise, I won’t run. I don’t want to go back to the streets.”
A huge smile spread across Sophie’s face. “Good. Hurry up and refill those glasses. We have s-some alcohol to drink, and I know for a fact that Beth brought over her copy of Fifty Shades for us to watch.”
“Oooh. I haven’t seen it yet,” Blythe said.
“I know s-some people didn’t like the book, but I have to s-say, it’s worth watching the movie just to look at Jamie Dornan.”
Blythe smiled at Sophie. “Sounds good.”
“It’s not good, it’s awesome,” Sophie returned. “Now come on, let’s go!”
Blythe followed Sophie out of the kitchen, somehow feeling a hundred times lighter than she had earlier that night. For the first time in a long time, she felt at peace. She knew getting her life back on track wouldn’t be easy, but with friends like Sophie, Beth, Adeline, Penelope, and Quinn, it would be a hell of a lot easier than without them.
Hours later, after watching Fifty Shades—and the sequel—finishing two bottles of vodka, and laughing hard enough for her stomach to hurt, Blythe glanced around the small room and smiled.
Everyone was asleep but her. Beth was using Second’s belly as a pillow. Penelope was sleeping on her stomach on the floor and Smokey had his head resting on her legs. Adeline was snoring slightly in the recliner, Coco at her feet. Quinn was lying across the sofa cushions, her feet in Sophie’s lap, who was scrunched up at the other end.
Blythe was sitting in an armchair next to the sofa, and across from Adeline and Coco. She gazed at her friends for a while longer, then quietly got up from the chair. She tiptoed as quietly as possible out of the room and down the hall to the master bedroom.
She went straight to her backpack leaning against the wall.
She’d washed her old clothes, putting them right back inside her backpack afterward, needing to be ready to go at a moment’s notice, just in case. Now, she unzipped the bag and methodically took out every piece of clothing inside, which wasn’t much. One by one, she brought her three shirts to the drawer that held the new shirts Beth had ordered for her. She then did the same with the two pairs of jeans she owned.
She placed her old ratty panties next to the new lacey ones in another drawer, and she put the sports bra she’d worn almost every day on the streets in with the new lingerie as well.
Then she pulled out the only picture she owned of her and her mother, before she’d gotten sick, and placed it on the small side table next to the bed.
She had a few more odds and ends that she unpacked and placed around the bedroom. Then she zipped up the backpack that had once held all her worldly goods and went into the walk-in closet. She couldn’t bring herself to throw it away…yet. She put it on one of the shelves in the back of the closet, out of the way, but still accessible if necessary.
Taking a deep breath, she closed the closet door and padded back to the dresser. She took off her clothes, leaving them where they landed on the floor. Pulling on the Station 7 T-shirt Sawyer had given her, she went into the bathroom to brush her teeth and take care of business. Then she crawled under the covers and reached for her phone.
She quickly typed a text to Sawyer, then shut off the phone without waiting for a response.
Closing her eyes, she relaxed. For the first time since she’d woken up to the sounds of that couple being robbed back in the alley downtown, Blythe realized that some of the worries she’d been carrying around had dissipated.
She fell asleep immediately, another first, without worrying about what might happen to her while she was sleeping.
Squirrel heard his phone ding with a text and he snatched it off the small table next to the twin-size bed in one of the sleeping rooms at the station. He’d been thinking about Blythe all night, hoping things were going well.
It was from Blythe. And from the looks of it, she’d probably indulged in quite a few of the drinks Penelope said they were going to have. The message was full of typos, but he could read it just fine.
Blythe: Tanks 4 sendig the girls. I had a grt nite. Havnt had froends in long tome. But that dosnt mean i didnt miss u. im not going to run. Beth wont hav 2 trak me. K?
Squirrel closed his eyes in relief. He’d been worried about Blythe not being able to handle everything that had happened recently. He knew it was hard for her to accept help. He’d arranged for the women to keep her company in the hopes that it would also keep her from sneaking out in the middle of the night.
He knew from having three sisters that friends were important. As much as he wanted to keep Blythe all to himself, that would never work. Women needed women. Friends. He quickly sent her a text back.
Squirrel: I miss you too, baby. You have no idea how much. And that’s good about you stickin’ around. But you should know, even if you did run, I’d find you. I don’t make the same mistake twice, and letting you refuse my help was a huge one that almost got you killed. Sleep well. I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.
She didn’t respond, but Squirrel didn’t really expect her to. He placed his cell on the table and lay back against the pillows on the bed in contentment. Hopefully, the rest of the shift went by quickly. He wanted to get back to Blythe.
Chapter Eight
Squirrel wasn’t sure exactly what had happened that night he’d asked Sophie and the other women to keep Blythe company, but whatever it was, it had changed her. In a good way.
She seemed more relaxed in the two weeks since the sleepover. Happier. But more than that, she seemed determined to get her life back on track, rather than merely going through the motions, expecting to be kicked out of his life any day.
Neither had discussed the emotionally charged texts they’d sent each other that night, but Squirrel hadn’t forgotten. He’d taken a screenshot of them, and every now and then re-read their words. They seemed like promises. From her that she wouldn’t run, and from him that if she did, he’d move heaven and earth to find her.
Squirrel had also made the difficult decision to go back to his house. He really wanted to continue sleeping on the couch at Sophie’s house, so he could be close to Blythe, but they were both adults, and if he wanted to get their relationship on an even keel, he had to let her live her life.
That didn’t mean it didn’t suck.
They still texted a lot, though. And spoke on the phone every now and then. In some ways it was as if nothing had changed, but in other
ways, everything had.
He could see her now. Almost whenever he wanted. And that was a miracle. Her knife wounds had healed up enough that he was able to take out the stitches. He wanted to take her back to the hospital to have it done, but Blythe had argued so vehemently, in the end he didn’t make her.
And she was right. He was a paramedic and could remove them just as easily as a nurse or doctor at the hospital, and he wouldn’t charge her an arm and a leg for the privilege. The slice on her hand was still healing, though, and would require more time to completely clear up.
Now he was at her house to pick her up for an official date. He shifted nervously on the front porch, waiting for Blythe to open the door.
When she did, Squirrel could only gape at her.
“Do I look okay?” she asked after several moments.
As if on autopilot, Squirrel took a step forward, put one hand on her hip and the other grasped her chin. He tilted her face up and leaned close. He brushed his lips across hers once, then twice. He hesitated, not wanting to pull back but knowing he should.
But Blythe moved first. She pressed her body into his and tilted her head, giving them both a better angle. Then her tongue brushed against his bottom lip.
That was all it took.
Squirrel didn’t know who moaned, maybe they both did. But the next thing he knew, they were kissing as if this were the last kiss either of them would ever have before the world ended. Their tongues dueled and he felt her hands reach up behind his neck. She held him to her as they made out on the front porch.
One of Squirrel’s hands was on her ass, holding her as close to his body as possible, and the other was tangled in her short dark hair, when the sound that had been niggling at his brain since they’d started kissing finally registered.
Reluctantly, he pulled back and grinned down at Blythe.
Her lips were swollen from his kisses, and she had a beautiful, deep flush on her face and upper neck. Her eyelids were at half-mast and she looked almost drugged.
Not able to help himself, Squirrel kissed her once more. A quick kiss with a swift brush of his tongue over her bottom lip. “Sounds like our friends approve,” he said dryly when he pulled back.
Blythe blinked then turned her head toward the house next door.
He followed suit—and saw both Sophie and Chief standing by their front door, clapping.
He was worried Blythe would be mortified, but he sagged in relief when she held up her middle finger at the couple. They laughed.
“Have fun tonight, kids,” Sophie called out.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Chief added.
Blythe looked up at Squirrel after waving at their friends. “Hi.”
“Hi,” Squirrel echoed. “And in case my reaction didn’t answer your question, you look amazing.”
“Thanks.”
Squirrel put his hands on her shoulders and held her away from him for a moment as he took her in. She was wearing a skirt that landed above her knees. It was a deep purple and was made of some sort of wispy fabric. It looked light and airy, and it easily swished around her legs as she moved. She’d topped it with a white V-neck blouse, which dipped low enough that he could easily see her cleavage. The shoulders were bare—it looked like they’d been cut out of the material—and the arms ended in three-quarter-length sleeves.
She’d obviously spent some time on her hair. It looked different than he’d ever seen it before. It was spiked up a little in the front and looked like it had been trimmed in the back. It had been uneven and a bit ragged before, but now it looked sleek and styled.
She had a bit of makeup on, her eyes looking bigger than ever. The hazel color of her irises popped with the eyeshadow and mascara she’d used. Her lips were a blush-rose color, and he wondered if he had lipstick all over his own lips. Not caring, he brought a hand up to her face and ran his thumb over the apple of her cheek. “You look good, baby. Really good.”
“Sophie and Adeline came over earlier and helped me get ready.”
“You should know, I’ve always been proud to have you by my side. You didn’t have to get all dolled up for me.”
“I did it for me,” Blythe blurted, then looked away from him, as if embarrassed by what she’d admitted.
“Look at me,” Squirrel said before he’d thought about it. He was about to apologize for being so bossy, but she did as he asked and brought her eyes back to his. “Good for you,” he said with a smile. “And that was mighty presumptuous of me to assume you put on makeup for me, huh?”
“It’s just that…it’s been so long since I’ve made any kind of effort with my appearance. There’s just no time for that when you’re hungry or trying to find a safe place to sleep.”
“I understand. You don’t have to justify to me or anyone else why you are or aren’t wearing makeup. But anytime you want to make the effort, Blythe, I’m more than willing to take you out and show you off if that’s what you want.”
“That’s not why—”
“I know it’s not,” Squirrel interrupted. “But I’m proud as fuck to have you by my side. I haven’t ever dated anyone as beautiful as you. I’ve never been the guy others are jealous of. For the first time, I know I’m going to be envied. But I should warn you…since I’ve never been in this situation before, I can’t guarantee how I’ll react to other men staring at you. I’ve never been the jealous type before, but I have a feeling that’ll change once I bring you out in public, looking like you do right now.”
“Sawyer,” Blythe complained, her cheeks pinkening again.
“It’s true.”
Her eyes met his. “I don’t understand how you haven’t already been snatched up by someone before now.”
“Look at me,” he said, dropping his hands from her and holding his arms out to his sides. “I’m not exactly centerfold material.”
Squirrel forced himself to remain still as she did as he asked. He could feel her eyes studying him. Everywhere they touched, he swore he could feel her gaze as a physical caress. He knew what she’d see. He saw himself every day in the mirror. Short brown hair, glasses, a nose that was a bit too long, ears that stuck out a bit too much. Broad shoulders, but not broad enough to be especially noticed. Slender build.
Yup, time and time again, he’d been overlooked by women for sexier, taller, and more outwardly masculine men. He hadn’t particularly cared in the past, but if Blythe rejected him, he would care. A lot.
He tensed when her unbandaged hand landed in the middle of this chest. She looked up at him and said quietly, “Do you want to know what I see when I look at you?”
Squirrel wanted to say no, he really was a chicken where she was concerned, but forced himself to nod. “Sure.”
“I see a man who let a homeless woman keep his cell phone because he wanted her to be safe.” Her hand wandered up to his shoulder. “I see a man who I knew wanted me to accept his help, but didn’t push the issue when I told him to drop it. I see a man who loves his family and would do anything to protect them. A man who values his friendships with the people he works with and works hard to cultivate those friendships. I see a selfless, proud, generous man.”
Her words made him feel good, but at the same time, disappointed him somewhat. Squirrel wanted her to be attracted to his looks almost as much as he wanted her to like him for who he was.
He opened his mouth to thank her, but one of her fingers pressed against his lips, shushing him. Her voice dropped, became more seductive. “I see those traits in your friends too…but I’m not physically attracted to them, Sawyer. Not like I am to you. I wouldn’t feel comfortable being with men like Cade and Chief because of their size. That’s just never been my thing. But you turn me on so much, it’s all I can do not to fall to my knees and undo your pants. I don’t know what women you’ve been hanging around with, but you are one hell of a sexy man. When I was in high school, I dated the president of the chess club, did I tell you that already?”
Squirrel shook hi
s head, fascinated by the woman standing in front of him.
“I did. I wasn’t the most popular girl in school, not by a long shot, but I also wasn’t exactly unpopular. I was on the soccer team and sometimes hung out with a couple of the cheerleaders. One of the football players asked me to prom one year, but I turned him down in favor of that chess club president. Ronald.” She chuckled. “We went to prom but left half an hour later. We checked into a fancy hotel and spent the rest of the night in each other’s arms. Want to know what I learned?”
Squirrel swallowed hard. On the one hand, he was kinda pissed she was talking about fucking another guy when she was practically in his arms, but on the other hand, the events she was describing took place over ten years ago. He wasn’t exactly a virgin, he had no right to get upset with her…besides, she obviously had a point to make. So he nodded, not able to speak if his life depended on it.
“I learned that I’d much rather have a chess club president in my bed than a football player. My friends bragged about how big their jock boyfriends’ dicks were. But when others weren’t around, they admitted that they were never satisfied in bed. That the boys they slept with didn’t even know what the word foreplay meant and they hardly ever got off when they were fucked.”
Blythe plastered herself to Squirrel then and he grabbed her hips, holding her in place against him. He knew she could feel his rock-hard dick against her stomach, but he didn’t care.
She reached up and put her arms around his shoulders. He felt her fingertips against his nape as she caressed him. “I couldn’t relate to those girls at all. Because on prom night, that chess club president made me come four times. He knew exactly what to do with his tongue and fingers. He may not have had the biggest dick, but by the time he finally fucked me, I was so primed, I didn’t give a shit.”
Squirrel got what she was trying to say. Her words were a bit awkward—he didn’t think she was trying to insinuate anything about the size of his dick—but all her talk about sex and foreplay had him more than ready to show her how much he appreciated her attempt at a pep talk.