The Clover Chapel

by Devney Perry

  Why did his insults still hurt? For the majority of my life, I’d done everything I could to please him. I thought I’d set that all aside after his betrayal. That since I had quit my job and moved to Montana, it wouldn’t hurt when he told me I was a disappointment.

  But it did.

  Just like it hurt that he’d tell vicious and filthy lies about his own daughter simply because I didn’t marry the man of his choice.

  The little girl inside me was still hoping that one day she could make her father proud. I needed to have a heart-to-heart with that little girl and tell her to wise up. It was never going to happen.

  “You know I have never slept with a client. That’s a lie, Father.”

  “According to you,” he said. “Get on that plane.”

  “No.”

  “Get on that fucking plane and make this right!”

  This time when I flinched, my phone didn’t stop two inches away from my face. Instead, it traveled up to Nick’s ear in the hand that had ripped it from my own.

  Nick’s face turned to stone and the muscle in his forehead twitched as my father continued his rant.

  “Shut the fuck up,” Nick growled. “You won’t talk to her like that again.”

  Straining my ears, I barely made out my father’s reply, “I’ll talk to my daughter any way I see fit.”

  “You’re done, pal. Call her again and say anything other than how beautiful, smart or kind she is and you’ll be talking to me,” he said and hung up the phone.

  Nick and I both took a few moments to compose ourselves. His chest heaved with deep breaths and I assumed he was trying to calm his temper.

  My chest did the same but it was to keep myself from crying happy tears.

  This was what it felt like to have someone who stood up for me without question or restraint? Incredible.

  As a child, my mother had always played mediator but her tactics against my father had always been to change the subject. She’d distract him from whatever rampage he was on and I’d sneak away. Unfortunately, he’d usually find me again when she wasn’t around to act as the buffer.

  And because it took so much relentless energy, I’d rarely stood up for myself.

  But not Nick. Standing in my living room, wearing only a pair of flannel pajama pants, he was infuriated. Whatever he’d heard had been enough. Without hesitation, he had defended me to the one person who had always made me feel like I was less.

  Nick managed to collect himself before I did and knelt down in front of my chair.

  “Fuck. I’m sorry, Emmy. He’s an asshole. Are you okay?”

  My blurry eyes looked into Nick’s and I nodded. Reaching out, my fingers slid into the soft hair on his face while I leaned forward and pressed my lips against his.

  I wanted to be as close to Nick as I could get.

  I was ready.

  I softly kissed Nick’s mouth until he caught on and took over. I opened and his tongue slid inside, stroking back and forth while his lips pressed deeper and deeper into mine. His taste invaded my mouth, and as I dragged in a ragged breath, his scent filled my nose. Every one of my senses was consumed by Nick.

  His hands came to my waist and he picked me up out of the chair. The robe I was wearing fell open as my legs wrapped around his hips and my ankles locked together at his back. I gave his beard one last stroke before wrapping both arms around his neck.

  His mouth never broke from mine as he carried me upstairs and toward my bed. As we walked, Nick pushed the thin cotton fabric of my pajama shorts up and slid his hands underneath them and into my panties.

  I gasped when his palms squeezed my ass and he pulled my core into the hardness under his flannel pants.

  Feeling how much he wanted me sent sparks all over my skin. Every inch of my body was tingling. My sex was throbbing and I ground my hips into his, trying to get some friction to ease the ache.

  Nick lowered us down into the bed and his weight settled on top of me, pushing me deep into the mattress. I cradled his hips with mine and gazed into his vibrant hazel eyes full of lust and heat.

  Without breaking eye contact, his hand reached out to the nightstand and came back with a condom. When had he put them in there? It didn’t matter. I was just glad that he had.

  As he eased off the bed, I lifted my head so I could watch his movements. His chest was lean and cut, the muscles of his pecs and abs perfectly defined. I couldn’t wait to trace the strong lines at his hipbones with my tongue. My fingertips were itching to run through the dark sprinkling of hair at his chest and lower belly.

  I was so primed and ready for him that my whole body twitched when he put two thumbs into the waistband of his pants and slid them off. The sight of his hard cock sent a fresh wave of tingles to my core.

  With the condom on, he came to me and pulled the robe from my shoulders and the tank off my top. Both went sailing to the floor, followed shortly by my bottoms and panties.

  Nick’s hands spanned my ribs as he picked me up, setting me farther up the bed. Then with one powerful surge, he sank deep. My eyes squeezed shut as I savored the burn and stretch, my body molding to him.

  “Emmy,” he groaned as his hips pushed hard into mine.

  For a moment, neither of us moved. When I opened my eyes, his were fixed on me.

  A memory flashed. Of us in this exact position, not long after we had been married. Nine years hadn’t dulled that memory in the slightest.

  Reaching out, his hands found mine and our fingers naturally laced together. He brought our entwined hands above my head and bent down to kiss the tip of my nose.

  The ache in my core was overwhelming me and I needed Nick to move.

  “Nick,” I pleaded, pressing my hips up against his.

  Without pause, he started making love to me. His cock moved in and out with a steady, unrushed rhythm. The hair on his chest brushed against my pebbled nipples with every stroke.

  I savored the feel of us connected together. Being with a man had never been as good as with Nick. And time hadn’t changed that.

  My orgasm built slowly but with force. Long and hard, my body shook as my inner walls clenched around his cock. The moans escaping my mouth were loud and unfiltered. Everything about that moment was pure and real.

  Not long after I started to come down, Nick’s muscles bunched and he dropped his head into the crook of my neck, groaning as he came.

  We stayed locked together for a few moments while we both worked to regain our breaths and calm our thundering hearts.

  “I missed you, Wife,” Nick whispered into my hair.

  “I missed you too.”

  He lifted off me, then gave me a light kiss at the base of my collarbone before going to the bathroom to deal with the condom.

  I let the warm happiness of the moment flow through me before shifting back into the pillows and covering myself with the soft blankets.

  It was still early and I wanted nothing more than to take a nap. Then we could start this day all over again. This time around, without the rude phone call from my father.

  Though, I would lobby for a repeat of the unbelievable sex.

  His weight hit the bed, then he hauled me into his chest and wrapped me tightly in his arms.

  My theory about why he always wanted to spoon was because it put him in the best position to smell my hair. He always took a few long breaths when he settled. With every inhale and exhale, his body relaxed until he was asleep.

  I took my own breaths and smiled again.

  Sex, a morning nap and Nick. It was shaping up to be an awesome Sunday.

  After our nap, Nick and I had gone at it again before coming downstairs to start breakfast. While sex the first time was slow and sweet, our second experience had involved much more foreplay and had ended with Nick driving into me from behind.

  I was ravenous by the time he pulled the egg pie from the oven.

  “This is really good.” My rear was on an island stool and I was inhaling an enormous piece of quiche. The
crust was golden and flaky. The eggs were light and creamy. The vegetables gave the dish a variety of flavors and colors.

  I was famished. The only thing I didn’t love about the quiche was that it took nearly an hour to bake.

  He grinned. “Better than Lucky Charms?”

  “Say what you must about my cereals, at least they are quick to prepare.”

  All week long he had been making fun of my cereal selection. It wasn’t until I’d gone away to college that I had been introduced to cold cereal. Now I couldn’t get enough of it. In my pantry, there were currently eleven boxes, all different varieties of sugar-filled kids’ cereals.

  “What do you feel like doing today?” he asked.

  It was nearly noon and the only productive thing I had done so far was shower.

  “I’ve got to work on my lesson plan for tomorrow. It’s almost done so I just need thirty minutes or so. You?”

  “I was thinking we could drive out to the hot springs. They shouldn’t be too full of tourists this time of year, and it’s fun to get all hot in the water and jump in the snow,” he said.

  “Sounds good. But I’ll leave the snow jumping to you.”

  Chuckling, he reached for his ringing phone. “Brick.”

  I really hoped that Jess was calling to tell Nick they had found my burglar. I felt safe with my alarm system and Nick staying the night, but it would be a considerable weight off my mind if the criminal was at least identified. Then maybe we could learn why my house had been targeted.

  “Yeah. We’ll be here,” he said and hung up. “Jess is coming over in about ten. He wants to talk to us about a few things.”

  “Okay. I’ll run up and get dressed. Do you think we’ll still have time for the hot springs?” I asked.

  Even though he’d just mentioned the idea, I was attached to it. An hour sitting in a hot pool sounded amazing. My muscles were starting to get stiff from the snowshoeing yesterday. Bonus, I could check out Nick’s amazing body in a pair of swim trunks.

  “If Jess’s business doesn’t take too long, we should still have time. Just wear your suit under your clothes. There isn’t a great place to change there.”

  Nodding, I went upstairs, hoping Jess had good news.

  Fifteen minutes later, we were all huddled around the kitchen island.

  “Sorry for barging in on your Sunday,” Jess said. “But I thought you’d want an update as soon as possible and I didn’t want to bother you at school.”

  “No problem. Is it about the break-in?” I asked.

  “I’ve got nothing new to tell you. We’re at a dead end.” He frowned. “I’m here about Mason Carpenter.”

  It had been a week since the “Kidnap-versary” party and I hadn’t heard back from Jess. He had promised to look into Mason’s home situation, and if he was here, it meant he’d found something. Hopefully, something to get my student some help.

  “I had a meeting with Garcia this week. Told him I was concerned about one of Rowen’s classmates. He gave me the info you’ve been sending him these last few months,” Jess said.

  “Did you tell him that I approached you?” I asked.

  “No. But I did remind him a prebuilt case file wasn’t necessary before he could call me. He actually seemed relieved. I think he was worried I’d tell him to take a hike,” he said.

  “Thanks.” I didn’t think my boss would have cared about our conversation, but at the same time, I didn’t want him to think I didn’t respect his authority.

  “So what’d you find out?” Nick asked.

  “Not much. But it’s a start. Kid moved over from Bozeman to live with his aunt, Kira Robertson,” Jess said.

  “Don’t know her,” Nick said.

  “You wouldn’t. She doesn’t run anywhere near the up-and-up crowd. Ran a background. Before Prescott, she got busted on two counts of marijuana possession and one drunk and disorderly. Lays low here so far, but I asked around the station and she’s been seen out with some of Wes’s old acquaintances.”

  “Fuck,” Nick muttered.

  “Sorry, I’m a little lost. Wes?” I asked.

  “Wes Drummond. He ran the meth trade in Jamison County. Died a little over a year ago. Murdered by the same people who kidnapped Maze and Georgia,” Jess said.

  “What is Mason doing living with her then?” If his aunt had problems with controlled substances, there should be cause to remove Mason from her care. A knot was forming in my stomach as I thought about what could be happening in that house.

  “Called the Bozeman PD and had them pull the kid’s file. Mason’s mother got sent to prison a few months ago. That’s why he’s with the aunt. Mason’s mom makes Kira look like a saint. Could see why a judge would send him here. Anything was better than where he was at,” Jess said.

  “What happened with the mother?” Nick asked.

  “Five-year minimum sentence for prostitution and possession. Her record was a book. The final arrest that tipped the scales was right before the kid got placed here. They busted her high as a fucking kite, giving some guy a blow job while Mason was huddled in the corner. Found her apartment loaded with about every drug imaginable. Looks like she was storing it for her boyfriend, who was a junkie and small-time pimp.”

  I felt sick. At any moment, the quiche in my stomach was going to come back up. What kind of horrific things had Mason seen in his short life? He was probably lucky to be alive. No wonder he kept to himself.

  “This keeps getting worse,” I said. “Mason went from a terrible situation to a better one. But it still isn’t acceptable. There has got to be a better place for him.”

  My voice cracked at the end of my tirade and my lip was quivering.

  Nick wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me close.

  “I talked to the county social worker,” Jess continued. “She’s been making routine visits and says every time she’s stopped by, the place checks out. Their place is old but she told me it’s been clean and Mason seems cared for. The kid was quiet but when she asked him if he liked living there, he said he did.”

  “That can’t be!” I yelled. “He’s filthy most days when I see him. And he looks miserably unhappy.”

  “When I showed your reports to the social worker, she was shocked,” Jess said.

  “What is she going to do about it?”

  “She’s going to do a random check sometime in the next week or ten days. Stop by unannounced and see what it looks like.”

  “Can she do that?” Nick asked.

  “Yeah. The aunt is still under probation as Mason’s guardian. Any fuckup and the kid is removed. Kira loses her bimonthly checks from the state. Not surprising that when the social worker had appointments, everything was in order. But I agree with Emmeline. Something is happening. We just need to prove it. Hopefully before the aunt gets wind that Mason’s teacher is suspicious,” Jess said.

  “And if the random inspection works? What happens next?” I asked.

  “He’ll go to a foster family in town.”

  “And will that be better or worse than his current situation?”

  Jess smirked and fought a smile while Nick’s chest started shaking against my back. Clearly I had said something funny. I just didn’t have a clue what it was.

  “What?”

  “Emmy, this isn’t New York. Ninety-nine percent of the families that live in Prescott are good, honest people.”

  “Okay. Then foster care would be an improvement.”

  “Yeah,” he replied.

  “What can I do?” I asked Jess.

  “Same as you have been. Send your concerns to Garcia. He’ll route them to me. Hang tight until the social worker does her check. I’ll let you two get back to your weekend.” Jess waved a hand as he turned to the front door.

  “Thanks, Brick,” Nick said.

  “Jess?” I called before he left. “Thank you for sending a blue coat to school with Rowen. Mason was overjoyed that he could play outside at recess without being teased.”


  “I’ll pass it along to Georgia,” he said and walked out.

  “Do you think Mason is going to be okay?” I asked Nick.

  “With you as his teacher, it’s the best chance he’s got.”

  “Fred, I appreciate your concern but I haven’t decided what to do about my divorce. Rest assured, when I do, I will inform you.”

  My lawyer had called me this afternoon, wondering why he hadn’t received my signed divorce papers. Given that during our last conversation I had been frustrated at a delay on his part, a delay on mine had been unexpected.

  “I must warn you, Emmeline, the longer you wait, the more probable a redraft of the decree or settlement agreement will be required. I would hate to see you incur that unnecessary cost,” he said.

  “Understood. If it comes down to that, I will be happy to pay you and your team the fee to have the papers reworked.”

  “Your father will not be pleased to see a repeat cost against his retainer.”

  “Fred, I told you last fall that these charges are not to be put against my father’s retainer. I will pay you personally. This is not Father’s business.”

  “Yes, of course,” he backpedaled. Either he had forgotten my instruction or he had ignored it. I was really hoping for the former but I suspected the latter, since he and my father often golfed together.

  “I will notify you when I’ve made my decision. Good-bye,” I said and hung up.

  It had been a month since Father’s irate early morning phone call and I hadn’t heard from him since. Though, Steffie had called. Apparently, she’d caved and told him the man that had yelled at him that morning was none other than my husband.

  But if Fred told him that I was delaying the divorce, my father would get much more intrusive, and even Steffie’s charms wouldn’t keep him from plotting something nasty.

  Shit.

  I needed to decide what to do. Not just so I had an answer to my father’s inevitable questions, but for my sake. And Nick’s.

  I enjoyed being with Nick. Our relationship was normal. It satisfied the cravings I’d had my whole life for something genuine and real.