Love Happens

by Claudia Burgoa

  Blake wouldn’t be able to hide just how dangerously close we chose to get on standard chases for long. Once our new chasing show aired, her mother would get a better understanding of the stakes of our professions even more so than she was now. I wasn’t taking her into the heart of the cell, but Blake and I had spent half the season pushing our limits to the edge, and Daniel’s crew had caught it all on camera. Including the footage of her being knocked unconscious by flying debris.

  I gripped the steering wheel a tad harder, the memory shredding me. I didn’t want Ms. Caster to see that, but I doubted the studio would quash the footage no matter how hard I fought it.

  “Dash,” Blake said, the fire in her voice drawing me back to the present. I followed her gaze, alternating between where her eyes were trained on the sky and the road.

  “I see it,” I said, and pulled to a stop on the side of the road.

  The dark wall cloud stretched over a broad expanse of rolling green pasture grass, its black and gray mass like an ominous slice of sky coming to swallow the land whole. A crack of lightning struck an area near where a farmhouse and barn stood, and I silently prayed the owners were in their shelters.

  A slow but definitive rotation churned in two portions of the cell, instead of one like we’d expected. My heart raced as I gathered my camera, glancing at Blake in a silent question.

  She nodded, holding her camera in one hand and her other on the door handle. She glanced over her shoulder. “You should stay in the car, Mom.”

  Her mother’s eyes were wide. “You’re getting out?”

  Blake chuckled. “Yes.”

  “Oh. Good Lord.” Her mother didn’t loosen her grip on the headrest but sighed.

  Blake took that as her cue and hopped out of the car. I quickly followed, the sharp hiss of cold rain slick against my skin.

  “I wish we were closer,” she said when I’d reached her side. “But thank you for letting my mom be here to experience this.”

  “Of course.” I smiled at her. “There will always be another chase.”

  “A lifetime of them,” she said, squeezing my hand.

  My damn racing heart filled up to the brim. This woman had a direct line to my soul and catching the fire behind her eyes as she watched the sky only made me love her more. Her body was soaked as the rain continued to hit us, the drops rolling down her arms in a trail I wanted to follow with my tongue.

  She gasped, and for a second I thought she’d read my mind, but I snapped out of it and followed where her eyes were wide.

  “Oh holy hell,” I said. “They’re both dropping!”

  Both areas of rotation had formed into thin dirty-white funnels that snaked toward the ground, one of which was entirely too close to the farmhouse. Each of my muscles locked up as if I concentrated hard enough I could make the funnel change directions.

  The blare of a warning siren rang just over a rumble of thunder, and I sent up a mental high-five to John and Paul who must’ve called it in. It didn’t matter, though. The people in the farmhouse should’ve been in their shelters long before this moment. It didn’t stop the cold fingers of fear from clutching my chest, though. Something I could never control when a funnel dropped near a populated area. It was one thing when the cells we chased only put our lives at risk—we signed up for it—but when it was too close to innocent bystanders, I couldn’t help but be angry with the storms I usually loved.

  “They’re combining!” Blake hollered over the heavy pouring of the rain, and the fierce clap of thunder that continued to roll around us.

  She’d seen the movement a full thirty seconds before I had, and I swear I fell for the woman a little bit more. The two thin funnels danced their way toward each other, churning up the grass and dirt as their tails hit the ground. A deep breath of rain-soaked air and the two ropes merged to make a thick, much more threatening tornado.

  And it was heading right for the farmhouse.

  Blake and I kept our cameras steady, but she reached out with her free hand and intertwined her fingers through mine. We knew what would happen before it was even close to getting there, and I’m sure she thought the same thing I did—a silent plea for it to change course.

  “Oh my God!” Blake’s mom screamed from right behind us, the terror in her voice making me flinch. “It’s—”

  Her words were cut off by the distinct and unforgettable sound of splintering wood as the tornado sucked up half of the barn, crunching up the structure like it was a massive wood-chipper. Blake moved to wrap her arm around her mother’s shoulders, trying to comfort her when there was no way of explaining that this wasn’t the first time Blake had seen something like this happen, and it definitely wouldn’t be the last.

  “I’m sure they’ve been in their shelters for a while now,” I said, never dropping the camera as I tried to help Blake reassure her.

  “But … but …” Her mom’s eyes were locked onto the tornado, watching as its tail disintegrated slightly, only to touch back down a couple hundred yards closer to our position that it was before.

  “It missed the house!” Blake said, smiling at her mother. “See, they’re okay. If anyone is even there.”

  She was stretching, but there were plenty of times that we found farmhouses such as this unoccupied at the time. Horse shows, and other farming duties kept people on the road during storm season. It wasn’t unheard of.

  Her mother seemed to brighten at this small fact before her eyes nearly popped out of her head. “Is it me or is it getting closer to us?”

  Blake and I whirled back around, sparing each other a look before hustling back to the Mockingjay. She shoved her mother inside the car a bit unceremoniously, but I made sure they were both buckled before I stomped on the gas.

  “Hold on,” I said, spinning the car to book it down the road. The tires screeched as the wheels spun in the rain, but luckily we were on a safe paved road and able to gain speed after only a few seconds.

  The sounds of the storm dulled within in the car, but each of our labored breaths made up for the silence. Ms. Caster’s were the loudest, and every now and then she’d give a little gasp, her head turned to look out of the back window where the tornado almost filled it by half.

  As I gained distance from the storm, the tension slowly ebbed out of the vehicle, and by the time I’d made it to Paul and John’s location in the Tracker Jacker, the tornado was folding in on itself.

  Not our most dangerous chase by any means, but Blake’s mother was visibly shaken when she climbed out of the car. The rain slowed as the wall cloud broke into chunks in the distance, the bright orange sun gleaming in rays through the black masses.

  “You all right?” I asked, gently squeezing Ms. Caster’s hand where she leaned underneath Blake’s arm.

  She nodded, gazing at the area behind me. “Yes. It’s so much different seeing it instead of hearing about it.”

  “Yeah,” I said, raking my fingers through my wet hair. “I had hoped your first chase wouldn’t be close to any structures.”

  “You can’t control it,” she said.

  Sometimes I wished I could, but then there would be no need to study. No need to research and catch and learn. Which was everything Blake and I lived for.

  “Quite the day,” she said, perking up with a smile and Blake chuckled.

  “Right?” Blake hugged her. “A wedding and a chase. Our lives are kind of chaotic.”

  Her mom patted her cheek. “Just wait until you have babies.”

  I choked on the air in my lungs, coughing and sputtering as if I’d sucked in a gallon of rainwater.

  Blake laughed, her eyes wide as she shook her head. “We have a while before that happens. I think.”

  “Don’t take too long,” her mother said. “I want grandbabies.”

  Blake pinched the bridge of her nose, but I couldn’t stop staring at her, picturing her with a swollen belly and our baby inside her.

  Holy hell. Blake is mine forever.

  I wasn’t sure th
e notion would ever stop shocking me, or that I would ever stop wondering how I got so lucky.

  “Want to head back to the lab with us, Ms. Caster?” John asked. “We’ll do a quick damage assessment of the barn, check on the owners if they’re there, and then Paul and I can give you the grand tour.”

  “Thank you, boys,” she said, hugging Blake one last time.

  Yes, thank you. I loved that my boys knew I wanted some quiet alone time with Blake.

  “We’ll meet you there in a bit,” Blake said as her mother climbed into the Tracker Jacker with Paul and John.

  “I can’t believe we just did that!” Blake’s voice was a mixture of pure excitement and disbelief as the Tracker Jacker pulled away.

  I held the door of the Mockingjay open for her, ushering her inside as the rain picked up again around us. I climbed in after her, slamming the door behind me. I cranked the heater up to help kill the shivers that were caused by our wet clothes.

  “What?” I asked, sucking in a deep breath. “Catch that F-3 or get married?” Her eyes were wild from the chase but just as full of love from what we’d done right before—allowing Paul to marry us seconds before setting out to chase the supercell.

  “Both,” she said, laughing.

  I shifted to face her, pushing some wet strands of hair off her face. Her brown eyes locked with mine, the thrill in them turning to one of want. She inched her lips toward mine, and I met her in the middle, gently sliding my tongue against hers.

  Almost frantic, she flung her arms around my neck, pressing her breasts against my chest. I could feel her hardened nipples through the wet fabric, and an ache wrenched itself in my gut.

  “Wait,” I said between her lips.

  She drew back, arching an eyebrow at me before looking down at what was clearly hard in my jeans. “Why?” she sucked my bottom lip into her mouth before dropping it, and I growled. “The storm has dissipated. Everyone is gone. It’s just us, husband.”

  “I have plans, wife.” The word that claimed her as mine forever only made me want her that much more. I kissed her quickly, gripping her hips. “Honeymoon plans.”

  She smirked. “And I love you for that,” she said, trailing her tongue down my neck before coming back up. “But I want you, now.” She traced her hand over my dick, and I hissed. “And it looks like you want me, too.”

  I threaded my fingers through her hair. “I always want you, Blake.” I huffed as she pressed her breasts harder against my chest. “But, here? In the Mockingjay?”

  That grin tugged at her lips again as she slipped into the backseat, pulling me after her. She pressed her back against the door, and hiked her leg up until it was behind me, the other hanging off the seat. “Fitting, isn’t it? The first time you made love to me was in the back of your truck.”

  The memory flared in my mind, but it was the way Blake beckoned me that made flames lick my skin.

  I rid myself of my jeans and briefs in a blink. I tugged her wet pants off, kissing her rain-chilled skin every inch of the way down until she was bare to me. Working my way back up, I hooked one of her knees over my shoulder and flicked my tongue across her center.

  She moaned, arching into me, her body begging for more. I sighed, my warm breath hitting her soft, pink flesh before I slipped my tongue inside her.

  God, she tasted divine. Like rain and honey and warmth. She fisted her fingers in my wet hair, hissing as I alternated between smooth laps and soft kisses.

  “Dash,” she said, breathless as she tugged on my shoulders.

  I smiled against her, getting in one more sweet suck of her clit before I gave in to her pulls. “Yes, Mrs. Lexington?”

  Heat flashed in her eyes, and she reached down, gripping me with both hands, guiding me until I was right where she wanted me. She teased my tip with her wetness, clenching her thighs every time I tried to sink inside her. I growled, but her slow torture only made the want pulsing in my core a living, fire-breathing thing.

  “Blake,” I hissed, desperate to feel her around me.

  “Yes, Mr. Lexington?” She threw my words back in my face, and I gently bit her bottom lip.

  She moaned, arching her hips, allowing me in one inch at a time.

  The slow burn made my heart race, my insides ache until every cell in my body was dying for her. For my wife.

  “God, Blake.” I tucked an arm around her lower back, drawing her upward so I could sink as deep inside her as possible.

  “Yes,” she moaned, rolling her hips against me, sending sparks across my skin with the movement.

  I held her ass just above the seat, me on my knees between her legs, one arm supporting the two of us as I thrust inside her. Slowly. Agonizing and mind-blowing at the same time. Sliding between her warmth, drawing out the delicious feel of her silkiness around me for as long as possible.

  Rocking against me, she trembled and scraped her nails against my scalp. “Come with me,” she begged, her words shooting heat straight to my core.

  “Fuck,” I hissed as she upped our pace, her hands gripping my ass, forcing me to pump inside her harder, faster.

  “Yes!” She screamed, and I felt her tighten around me. So, so fucking tight.

  I came seconds after she did, and continued to quake as the aftershocks of her orgasm tightened more around my already sensitive flesh.

  Shifting us, I laid my head against her breasts, and she slowly ran her fingers through my hair.

  After a few moments, she smiled down at me. “Best honeymoon ever.”

  I gently bit her neck. “If you liked this, you’re going to lose it over what comes next.”

  “I can’t wait,” she said, and I held her for a blissful ten minutes before my cell started blowing up with texts.

  Blake’s started blaring, too, and my heart was in my throat as I snatched it off the floor of the vehicle. No one ever texted me this much. She dug her cell out, too, and we quickly swiped at the screens.

  “Oh, no.” Her eyebrows pulled together as she read faster than I could.

  “Damn, that’s awful,” I said, my heart sinking as I read Paul’s text. I clicked on the link, my shoulders dropping as I read the news that had hit every major social media page available.

  “The Extreme,” Blake said, tears glittering her eyes. “He’s gone.”

  “Change of plan,” I said and sighed. “No longer going to the lab.” I typed out a quick response text to Paul. “Honorary drinks are in order.”

  “Right,” she said, sniffing as we scrambled into our clothes.

  Silence filled the car as I drove.

  We may have laughed it off every time someone brought up the movie Twister when they heard we were storm chasers, but it was a film we loved and respected. It put our professions in the limelight in a way that had never been done before, and damn if Paxton hadn’t owned the shit out of that role.

  Hearing of his passing, it felt like we’d lost one of our big brother’s.

  After a quick stop at my house for a change of fresh clothes, we headed to Bailey’s to meet up with the guys.

  “Hey,” John said, hugging Blake as I nodded toward Paul. “We cleared the farmhouse. Everyone was safe. Your mom went nuts over the lab. We dropped her at her place afterward.”

  “Glad to hear everyone was okay. And thanks for that,” she said, releasing him.

  “A bunch of chasers have organized a tribute, for The Extreme,” Paul said, showing us the info on his phone. “You good to take up this position with the Mockingjay? We’ll take up the one closest to it with the Tracker Jacker.”

  “Absolutely,” Blake answered for me, and I placed my hand at the small of her back. “We’ll stop down the road and grab mini-bottles of Jack Daniels for you, too.”

  God, I love this woman.

  “See you soon,” I said to the guys as Paul typed back to the lead chaser on another crew.

  Blake and I hurried back to the Mockingjay, making the quick stop in the liquor store to get the bottles.

  “
This definitely isn’t the way I planned on spending our first day as husband and wife,” I said once we were heading toward the coordinates Paul had texted me.

  “Me either,” she said. “But when have we ever operated well on a plan?”

  “True,” I said, reaching across the gearshift to smooth my hand over her thigh. She was the perfect woman, never one to let a change in plan throw off her mood. I loved how easygoing she was, and how no matter what we were doing—whether chasing down deadly storms or driving to pay tribute to a fallen actor—as long as we were together, my chaotic world was balanced.

  “I’m glad someone thought of this quickly,” she said as I pulled the Mockingjay to a stop where John and Paul had parked in their location. “I wouldn’t have.”

  “Me either,” I said, rolling down Blake’s window. She reached in the bag at her feet and handed two mini-bottles of Jack to John.

  “Thanks,” he said, passing it to Paul.

  “We’ll see you guys after,” I said, slowly driving to our designated spot a few miles after theirs.

  We climbed out of the car after we hit the right place, and Blake handed me one of the two mini-bottles we had left. “Wish we could have the full bottle,” she said.

  “Me, too, but those open container laws are sticky, and we don’t have a tornado to chuck it into like the Extreme.”

  She smiled softly, twisting off the cap of her bottle. “You logged the Mockingjay into their site?”

  I nodded. “While you were in the store I synced up to their site as Mockingjay1.” I dug in my pocket for my cell, bringing up the webpage to show her. “See, here we are.” I pointed at the red dot on their live tracking app. “And here is the Tracker Jacker.” I pointed to another red dot not far from ours.

  “Nice,” she said. “We should do something like this for the show.”

  “I’ll bring it up to Daniel.” I slipped my cell in my back pocket, finally twisting the cap off of my bottle. We couldn’t see the full picture on the app now, but after an hour, there would be a giant B.P. spread across tornado alley. And with the Extreme’s drink of choice in our hands, I didn’t think there was a better way to pay tribute.