Now and Always

by Pineiro, Charity

  She leaned against his back, wrapped her arms around, and gave him a hug. “I’ll be counting on it. Call to let me know when you’re on the way.”

  Victor smiled and gave her a kiss that conveyed just how much he didn’t want to leave her. “Don’t bother getting up. You need to rest.”

  Connie lay back down and listened to the front door open and close as he left. She hugged his pillow which still bore his scent.

  Victor was right. It didn’t quite compare to reality.

  #

  Jeff called later that morning to advise that Gordon had lawyered up as soon as the police got him into custody. He was arranging to help out local law enforcement during the interrogation as soon as they could set it up. Luckily, that would not happen right away and since she had been injured during Gordon’s capture, Jeff had suggested she work from home.

  In light of that, she spent the morning at work on her laptop, adding her notes to the report on the investigation. She hoped that a search of Gordon’s apartment would yield additional information which would confirm he had been responsible for the other killings. As it was, the manner he had attacked her was consistent with the way the other women had been assaulted, so she felt comfortable that they had the right man in custody.

  She heard from Victor only briefly as he called to let her know he was still at the hospital, but hoped to be able to make it for dinner. She gave him the option of canceling, but he insisted and she was glad. She wanted to see him, no matter how late it got. They set a time for dinner and as he hung up, she hoped he would not be further delayed.

  By lunch hour she had completed her report on the Trevor Gordon case and she started some chores which had lingered for the past week. A quick cleaning of her apartment followed by food shopping for what she would need for supper and the week to come. Not knowing how tired Victor would be, she decided to not press her luck and picked up a movie at Redbox.

  Although she sincerely hoped they would find something better to do than watch a movie.

  She returned to her apartment close to two hours later, put away the groceries, and changed into exercise clothes. She worked through her martial arts routine, then picked up some light free weights, working on her upper body. Next came crunches for her abdomen and when she was done, she left her apartment for a long jog.

  Slipping on the headphones for her Ipod, she pulled up a playlist with some alternative rock. She ran down to Ocean Drive and then onto the beach, where she jogged for about three miles, turned around, and retraced her path back to her apartment. When she entered, winded and sweaty, the missed phone call icon on her cell phone caught her eye. She dreaded checking, hoping it wasn’t Victor calling to say he couldn’t make it. She was glad when he said he would be there by six.

  Connie smiled and glanced at her watch. That left her plenty of time to shower and cook dinner.

  She undressed, tossed her sweat-soaked clothes into the hamper, and ran the shower until the water steamed. Gratefully it fogged the mirrors in the bathroom so she didn’t have to look at the assorted bruises on her body from the night before. She lingered in the shower, letting the water ease away some of the aches from Gordon’s attack. She ran soapy hands over muscles that were pleasantly fatigued from her workout. Connie liked the lean feel of them beneath her hands and the latent strength of them. She hoped Victor did as well.

  Driving that thought from her mind, she finished her shower, slipped on some yoga pants and a cropped t-shirt while she whipped up some chicken and rice. The dish would keep if Victor was running late. As the rice simmered on the stove, she peeled green plantains, did the first frying of the chunks which would later be flattened, fried again and end up as tostones. When she was done, she made a mojo criollo, smashing garlic in a mortar and pestle, adding olive oil, finely sliced onions and the juice of a sour Seville orange to balance the oil. She loved spreading the mojo on the tostones.

  She washed her hands, scrubbing hard to remove any lingering traces of the garlic and onions. When she was satisfied she was odor-free, she went out to the living room, slipped her Ipod into her stereo and got it going with a playlist of classic pop. As she went around the room, she straightened the cushions on the sofa, and placed some flowers she had bought on an end table.

  When she was done, Connie faced the hardest task of all — deciding what to wear. It was a new dilemma for her. She normally would have just tossed on jeans and a T-shirt and justified it by saying she didn’t need to please anyone but herself. Comfort was all that mattered. She wished she could convince herself of that now as she had done the night before, but she had to admit that there was a suddenly reawakened feminine side of her that wanted the appreciative looks Victor had given her in the past. The feminist side reared up though and as she scrounged through her closets, she managed a compromise. She tugged on a comfortable, but flattering, pair of black jeans, torn at one knee, and a loose, black linen shirt. Around her waist she pulled on a silver and turquoise belt and matched the outfit with butter-soft black boots.

  As another compromise, she lightly brushed on some blush and pale lip gloss. Satisfied with her appearance, she returned to the kitchen where she laid out cheese and crackers as an appetizer. She was about to take the plate to the living room when the doorbell rang.

  She placed the dish on the coffee table, walked to the door, and peered through the peep hole, smiling as she saw Victor’s distorted image. She opened the door and he gave her a tired grin. He looked like he hadn’t been able to get much rest. “Did you come straight from the hospital?”

  Victor nodded, stepped close, and wrapped her in his arms. “We had a second problem while I was there. An SUV barreled into a bus. Five, or maybe six, people were mangled pretty badly. A few of us worked on them in shifts.”

  Connie guided him to the sofa, where he plopped down, and leaned his head on the back of the couch. She sat next to him and applied a little pressure to move him forward. Slipping behind him, she kneeled on the sofa and massaged the tightness in his shoulders and the back of his neck. “Did you get a chance to rest?”

  He groaned and rotated his neck to give her better access. “About half an hour this afternoon. That feel’s great.”

  She continued with the massage, pleased when his muscles loosened beneath her hands. “Let me get you something to drink.”

  He nodded. “Sounds good, but first ….”

  Victor reached for her as she slipped around, grabbed her waist, and dragged her against him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and the momentum tumbled him into the sofa cushions, Connie pressed against his chest. He kissed her, tasting her lips, and she answered him without hesitation, digging her fingers through his hair. “I kept on wishing I was here with you. I think just my wishing made those people stabilize so I could leave.”

  She laughed huskily against his lips and said, “I’m glad you’re here. It would have been tough if you couldn’t make it.”

  “Really?”

  Connie felt his smile against her lips. His cockiness in the swell of his chest against hers. She pushed him down and stood up. “Of course it would be tough. I’d have enough leftovers for a week.”

  He groaned and clapped his hands over his face. “You are hard-hearted.”

  Connie chuckled and went to the kitchen for the drink she had promised him.

  When she returned, they snacked on the cheese and crackers, and afterward, he helped her set the dining room table and prepare a quick salad while she finished the tostones. When they sat for the meal, Connie noticed with a hint of pride that Victor polished off his first serving in record time. She served him another helping which he ate more slowly.

  “Hungry?” she asked.

  “Starved. I haven’t eaten since last night,” he admitted.

  So much for her pride, she thought. She finished her rice and chicken, then nibbled on a tostone dabbed with a little of the citrus and garlic mix. When it seemed that Victor had eaten his fill, she rose, and took their plates.
“Go relax in the living room. I’ll clean up.”

  “No, I’ll help,” he said and gathered the remaining dishes on the table.

  She gave him a smirk and he grinned at her. “I will not let you tag me with that macho label again. At least, not for this reason.”

  Connie shook her head, but as he stood beside her and her gaze met his bloodshot one, she relented. “You look dead on your feet and I won’t have you passing out in my kitchen. Go sit down and close your eyes while I clean. I got a movie for later.”

  Victor nodded through half-lidded eyes, hugged her hard, and left her behind in the kitchen.

  Connie took her time cleaning. He needed the rest.

  About half an hour later, she finished with the dishes, took down the espresso maker, and filled it with water and coffee. She turned on the gas, set it on the range, and went out to check on Victor.

  He had sacked out on her couch and was sleeping so soundly she didn’t have the heart to wake him. She sat on the edge of the couch, ran a hand along his cheek, and noticed the lines of fatigue that bracketed his mouth. Gently, so as not to wake him, she ran her fingers across his lips, but he stirred, lazily opening his eyes.

  “Lousy date, aren’t I?” he said, his voice sleep husky.

  She shook her head. “Not at all. I actually like my men unconscious.”

  He smiled and sat up. “I’m your man then.”

  Connie brushed a stray lock of hair back from his forehead. “Yeah, I think you are definitely my man. Would a little coffee help?”

  “A lot of coffee would help.”

  “A double espresso with condensed milk?”

  He nodded and held up three fingers. “A triple.”

  Connie prepared the coffees in the kitchen, loading up a regular size coffee cup with condensed milk and espresso for Victor, and a regular demitasse cup for herself. Back in the living room, he had turned off the Ipod and loaded the DVD into her player.

  She handed him his mug and he smiled, settled back against the sofa cushions, leaving space between his legs so she could nestle against him while they sipped their coffees.

  “This is heaven,” Victor said as he sipped on it.

  Connie sighed and agreed with him. “I hope you won’t get called away again.”

  Victor shifted behind her and placed his empty mug on the coffee table. “I hope not. I’d like to be able to just sit here —”

  “You mean lay here.”

  “Yes, just lay here and relax with you. Make believe we’re just two ordinary people, home on a Saturday night, watching a movie.” He reached around her, removed her empty demitasse cup from her hands, and placed it next to his. He laid his hands against her midsection and urged her up a few inches. “Maybe even necking a little?”

  Connie smiled, turned in his arms, and rested her hands against his chest. “Only a little?”

  His laughter was a deep rumble and vibrated against her fingertips. “Maybe a lot?”

  He dipped his head, met her lips as she moved upwards, and for the next few minutes she savored the taste of him and sweet milk-scented coffee. Savored his hard body beneath hers, warm and yielding.

  “This is nice,” she said between nibbles on his lower lip.

  “Very nice,” he replied as he took a quick bite back.

  She chuckled and gave him one last kiss before shifting away to grab the remote for the television and DVD. “I have a movie, remember.”

  “I was hoping you’d forget,” he murmured against the juncture of her neck and shoulder, sucking there until she moaned.

  “The movie’s due back tomorrow,” she kidded, although she dipped her head, bit his ear lobe.

  He stopped sucking long enough to say, “I’m running on the effects of that caffeine and sugar rush. I don’t know how much longer I can last.”

  “You’re what?” His mouth on her neck was distracting her.

  “Running on empty,” he replied and stopped, sitting up slightly.

  Connie sat back on her thighs and finally realizing where he was going. Or maybe where he wasn’t going. “This can wait,” she stammered, suddenly embarrassed that it hadn’t occurred to her that he needed rest.

  He cradled the side of her face. “I’m sorry. I know we’ve been waiting a long time to be together.”

  Connie stroked his chest and smoothed the wrinkled cotton of his shirt to avoid his gaze. “The physical side of our relationship is without a doubt rewarding.” She spoke slowly, picking her words carefully, like someone walking through a mine field. “But the rest of it … the way you make me feel even when we’re not making love, is just as important to me.”

  He cupped her cheek and applied gentle pressure until her gaze met his. “I feel the same way. So maybe tonight we can just enjoy being together again, wait until we’re both ready for something else.”

  She nodded and reached for the remote. “Just an average couple on a Saturday night, watching a movie.”

  He smiled, gave her a kiss, and leaned back against the plump sofa cushions.

  She sank against him and he drew her tight. They watched the movie together for a while until his arms slackened and his deep even breaths confirmed he slept. Connie shut off the television, closed her eyes and joined him, complete in a way she had never thought possible.

  Hoping that with the case finished, things would settle down and they would be able to find the time to be together more often.

  Chapter 19

  Connie organized the papers and files on her desk in order of priority. Two were brand new cases, waiting for her initial review. Another file was from Stone, with whom she had reached a kind of truce since their successful collaboration on the serial killer case. The last file was one that had reached a dead end and been set aside. Connie planned on reviewing the two new cases later that night to see if something popped that might help solve them.

  After the excitement and fear of the counterfeiting and serial killer cases, she had settled into doing what most agents did — intensive investigation and routine surveillance of possible operatives and suspects. Not the shoot-em-up, running after the criminal most people saw on television. Or the spooky monster under the bed murder cases some people seemed to believe actually existed.

  She shook her head, ended her musings and packed up the two new cases, intending to work on them at home. She had done that often, developing a kind of schedule which allowed her and Victor time together.

  In the two months since the end of the serial killer case, they had been able to see each other off and on. Sometimes it was for the whole night, other times just for a few hours. More often than she liked, it was for one event or another related to Victor’s work at the hospital.

  Tonight was supposed to be a quiet night at home with Victor. The first one all week since neither of their schedules had allowed for enough time together so far. As she was about to leave her office, her phone rang. Victor, reminding her that they had to attend a benefit dinner for a new wing for the hospital. It was the latest in a seemingly endless string of dinners and galas to which Victor had dragged her.

  Not that he hadn’t warned her she might have to do this kind of thing.

  She just hadn’t believed it would be such a whirl of social activity, eating away at the free time they had to spend together. They had attended one of these functions almost every week for the last two months.

  Connie hadn’t remembered about tonight’s event, but agreed to be ready for him when he came by to pick her up. The two cases she had planned on reviewing would have to wait until later that night.

  Way later.

  #

  Connie scanned the interior of the ballroom, searching for Victor. After dinner and dessert, they had gotten separated during the mingling part of the event. Connie’s head and feet ached, plus she still had the files sitting in her briefcase that she wanted to read. Not to mention that she was hoping she and Victor could leave and finally have a little alone time.

  She spotted hi
m across the way, waved at him, and started to make her way over when his mother stepped in her path.

  “Connie. So nice to see you again,” the bejeweled older woman said.

  “Mrs. Cienfuegos. It’s good to see you as well,” Connie answered, even though his mother’s cordiality seemed to be an act for the benefit of those around them. She clearly disapproved of Connie and her relationship with Victor. She had made that abundantly clear during their earlier meetings at similar affairs.

  “Are you going somewhere?” Mrs. Cienfuegos asked, her lips in a tight smile.

  Connie nodded. “Unfortunately, I’ve got to get home and do some work.”

  Victor’s mother raised an eyebrow, her annoyance clear. “You know this is work for Victor as well. Mind you, when he becomes Chief of Orthopedics he’ll have to attend more of these types of things.”

  “More? I didn’t think that was possible,” Connie questioned in surprise.

  The woman waved off her disbelief. “Right now he’s just working to get the position. Once he’s Chief, he’ll have to reach out to donors, politicians, and others to help the hospital. Go to other events where he’ll meet the right people.”

  The way she said it and eyeballed Connie left no doubt that she didn’t consider Connie one of those “right people.”

  Connie bit her lip, excused herself, and made a bee line for Victor. When she reached him, she apologized for interrupting. “I have to go,” she whispered into his ear. Although she had hoped he would go with her, after hearing his mother’s take on things, she had decided it was unfair to pull him from what he had to do.

  Victor noticed something was wrong. He leaned close. “Are you okay? You look upset. I can go home with you if you’d like.”

  Connie nodded and tried to smile, but it was a half-hearted one. “I’ll grab a cab. I just have some things to do.”

  He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close for a quick kiss. “I’ll be by in an hour at the most. I promise.”

  Rising on tiptoes, she brushed a kiss across his cheek and said, “I’ll hold you to that.”