Chasing Happy

by Jenni M. Rose

Anticipation. That’s what it was.

  She turned and looked at the other women and smiled. “I know.” He’d shown her in a million different ways how much he cared. Hell, he was trying to tell her from the other side of the door.

  She opened that last barrier and like she knew he would be, Max was there, leaning on the wall across from the bathroom door. Hands in pockets, one foot resting in front of the other.

  His face stretched into a sly smile. “I was waiting for you.”

  “I know,” she told him, stepping into his body and wrapping her arms around his neck. She pressed her lips against his, his hands sliding up her bare back, firm and hot. He kissed her like her trip to the restroom had taken ten years instead of ten minutes.

  Rosie went into that bathroom a girl on a date but she came out a woman with a man that loved her. A man who was waiting for her.

  She came out a woman who loved that man back and she was done waiting. She knew how she felt about Max and she knew how he felt about her. He’d made it clear to her and to everyone around them.

  He broke the kiss and quickly looked around them, making sure they didn't have an audience.

  “I like that,” he told her.

  “Me too.” She felt a little breathless, not from the kiss but the realization that she loved him. She, the girl that no one had ever wanted, fell in love and it felt good.

  “Are you almost ready to go?” He asked.

  She looked around. “Is it over?”

  He shrugged. “All the important stuff. Most of the board already left.”

  “If that’s what you want,” she told him. This was his night. She wasn’t going to rush him out of it for her sake.

  “Can I tell you what I want?”

  Rosie let out a laugh. “Is it safe to say in public?”

  He shook his head, no.

  She looked up at him and let her smile drop. “Does it involve going home?”

  He nodded and lifted a brow.

  She fiddled with his bow tie for a second before asking. “Will we be wearing less clothes?”

  Max shrugged. “I’ll wear whatever you want me to wear, I already told you that.”

  She took a breath and smiled at him. “I think nothing is in the cards.”

  He stilled, his face turning serious. “Me wearing nothing or you wearing nothing?”

  “I was thinking both.”

  He was off the wall in a flash, her hand in his as he dragged her behind him.

  “Max, wait,” she laughed.

  He stopped in his tracks, lifted his face to the ceiling and breathed deep.

  “I’m sorry. Too fast. I know.”

  “No, I was thinking we didn’t say goodbye.”

  He let out a ‘pfft’ sound and started walking again.

  “And you never danced with me.”

  He turned around still holding her hand.

  “I didn’t.” His shoulders dropped a little. “Can I make it up to you later?”

  She nodded, about to tell him it wasn’t a big deal when he pressed a kiss to her mouth, cutting off what she was going to say. She ran her hands up the lapels of his jacket.

  He lifted his head. “We have to leave now or I might embarrass myself.”

  She agreed but she had no idea how Max could ever embarrass himself. He was so cool and calm, gorgeous and magnetic and, by the grace of fate, he was hers.

  For now.

  Max was mostly quiet the entire ride back to his house. Like the first time he’d ridden in the car with Rosie he was afraid he’d say something stupid and spook her. She’d all but told him at the hotel that she was ready to have sex.

  It was so cheesy but thinking of it as sex made him cringe. Sure, he’d had sex with women, it was no big deal but that was what made this so different. This was a huge deal.

  He loved Rosie. There was no doubt in his mind, he loved her and wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.

  For her to decide she was ready to take that step with him, had to mean she loved him, too. He already knew that, though. She’d told him so many times with her eyes. With the things she did for him, the things she said.

  He’d always heard his mother talk about love being found in gestures. She’d say, your father cleaned my car today. That’s how I know he loves me. At the time, he’d thought, that’s just what people say, but it really wasn’t. It was all about what Rosie did for him that showed him how she felt.

  Like helping him on the farm. She didn’t have to. The farm wouldn’t go under without her, but she wanted to help. She let him eat the last chocolate donut. She’d found an old picture of Hannah and had put it on the dresser in their bedroom. She’d started carrying her cell phone and actually using it. It was all in the gestures.

  When they got to his house he parked close to the porch steps. He didn’t want Rosie getting her dress dirty walking up the pathway.

  “Wait for me,” he told her as he jumped out of the driver’s seat.

  He trotted around the hood and opened her door, easily scooping her out of her seat. She let out a little squeak and then a laugh.

  I tickled him to hear her laugh like that.

  “What are you doing?” She said, a smile on her voice as she rested her head against his shoulder.

  “I don’t want you to get your dress dirty.” He climbed the stairs of the porch and opened the door.

  When she moved like she was going to get down, he pulled her closer. “I’ve got you.”

  He kicked the door shut behind them and carried her straight upstairs to the bedroom. Rosie pulled his head closer and placed a few hot, open mouthed kisses to the underside of his jaw. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever made it up those stairs faster.

  They made it to the bedroom and he set her on her feet. Her wearing that white dress, plus the moonlight streaming into his bedroom was a heady combination. He felt like every fate had aligned for he and Rosie to meet and be together. This one night, he was sure, would be perfect. Some of her hair had fallen out it’s clip and looked a little wild. He watched her eyes, knowing if she truly had reservations, that’s how he’d know, she’d tell him with her eyes. All he saw there was hot need and desire.

  “I’ve been wanting to slide that dress off you all night.” He leaned his back against the closed bedroom door.

  Rosie brazenly held her arms out to the side. “I’m ready for that.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Without another word, she reached a hand up and began pulling the shoulder of the dress down and he took a hasty step forward.

  “Let me,” He said, his voice soft.

  With both hands, he grasped the fabric of the dress and peeled the top down, revealing nothing but Rosie’s skin underneath. Her small breasts swelled was she breathed but she stayed still as a statue. He dropped the material of the dress, letting it hang at her waist and reached to caress her breasts with both hands. They were warm and soft and he knew, touching them affected Rosie in a major way. This time was no different, her breaths deepening and her eyes sliding closed.

  He found the clip in her hair and let it tumble down, loose around her shoulders.

  “There you are.” He smiled down at her.

  She sent him a small smile and began unbuttoning his shirt. “I’d like to see you, too.”

  He stood still as she removed his bowtie and slipped opened the buttons of his shirt. She slid his jacket off right along with the shirt but he stopped her when she went for his pants.

  “Not yet. You first.”

  He took the material bunched at her waist and, getting to his knees, pulled it over her hips and down her legs.

  “My God,” he whispered as he looked up at her. She was like a magical fairy, ethereal and delicate, yet proud and unashamed.

  He slid his hands up the outsides of her legs and to her hips. Grasping the sides of her panties he pulled those off to.

  Knowing she was apprehensive he made sure to take things slow. He caressed her legs and her backside, rubb
ing his nose against her stomach and inhaling her sweet scent. When he finally brought one of his fingers around to tease her, her knees wobbled.

  He backed her up to the bed.

  “Lay down.” He held out a hand and helped her scoot back.

  Even though she was nervous, she didn’t resist when he settled his shoulders between her legs. He’d waited months to taste her, to pleasure her, and he wanted to take his time. He reveled in her scent on his lips and the way she moved underneath his mouth. It wasn’t long before Rosie was completely lost and he let her go. He didn’t need her to wait for him, not this time at least. He wanted this night to be about her and how she felt. He wanted to her to feel absolutely loved.

  So, he let her fly when she needed to fly. Hips off the bed, grabbing the sheets in her fists, screaming his name, she flew.

  While she came back to earth he ditched his pants and grabbed protection.

  “Why did I tell you no when you asked to do that?” She asked, her voice thick and low.

  He kissed her then, long and deep, until she was clinging to him. Her legs wrapped around his hips and he slowly sank into her. He’d intended to go slow but Rosie shifted her hips and he was in all the way, filling her completely. His head dropped to her shoulder.

  It was too good. He wasn’t going to last. At all.

  Rosie’s lips moved against his ear and she wrapped her arms around him. “Are you okay?”

  She was out of breath, squeezing him in a way she probably had no idea she was doing and she was asking how he was doing.

  He propped himself up on his hands and began to move inside her.

  I love you, he wanted to tell her. He tried to remember the tricks he learned about energy and sending the thought to her instead. He thought about the love he felt and how full it made him feel. He thought about building a life with her and the future he saw for them together. He wanted her to see it, to feel what he felt.

  Rosie’s eyes closed as she held on, her mouth opened as she started letting out a series of breathy moans. He pushed harder, wanting her to go off the edge before he did.

  When her fingers dug into his shoulders, he knew she was close so he kept on until she let go. He finished shortly after, Rosie holding him in the circle of her arms.

  He rested for a minute before he quickly discarding the condom and settling Rosie under the covers.

  When they were facing each other, he pressed a kiss to her lips.

  “I love you,” He told her, not bothering with any of the excuses he’d given himself over the last few weeks.

  She might not want to hear it and it might make her skittish but he needed to say it to her.

  He shook his head as he watched her. “I know you probably don’t want to hear that and that’s okay, but I need to say it. I’ve wanted to say it all night and it didn’t feel right, doing what we just did, without telling you.”

  He could see her eyes getting wet, tears gathering at the corner of her eyes.

  “I know,” she whispered.

  He smiled. “Good. Now come here.”

  He opened his arms and Rosie slid closer, her head on his shoulder.

  She hadn't disappeared the second he'd made his confession.

  It was a start.

  31

  Max woke the next morning to a bright bedroom and a naked woman. He took a moment to catalogue Rosie's features so he'd remember everything about that morning for the rest of his life.

  He slipped out of bed, headed to the kitchen for a cup of coffee and settled himself on the couch to watch the news, Gizmo next to him begging for scratches.

  When Dallas' cruiser unexpectedly pulled into his driveway, he checked the time. It wasn't early but it was too early for one of their regular visits.

  Mug in hand, Max stepped onto the porch and waited for Dallas to get out of the car as Wendy’s little electric car pulled up behind him. There was a man exiting Dallas’s passenger seat that looked to be in his mid-forties. He was tall and lean, his face showing signs of wear, like maybe he was too tired to take what life threw at him next.

  Max turned his eyes to Dallas who was walking toward the porch, a sheaf of papers in his hand, Wendy right behind him practically wringing her hands

  "What's going on?” Max asked.

  The other man stayed close to the cruiser, arms crossed as he looked up at Max's house.

  "We've got a problem.” Dallas climbed the steps. "It's about Rosie."

  Max's defense went up. "What about her?"

  "First of all, she isn't who she says she is.” He held out the papers.

  Max didn't even look at them. "Who's he?” The man by the car sent him a hard look and took a few steps closer.

  "He's Rosie's father," Wendy said quietly.

  Max scoffed. "No, he's not."

  "Yeah, he is,” Dallas argued, a hard scowl on his face.

  "Yeah?" Max crossed his arms. "Did you match his name to her birth certificate or something? Do a DNA test?"

  Dallas was quiet for a second. "No," he admitted. "Just look at the papers."

  "No. Get out of here." He directed the furious statement at the man by the car.

  "I need to see her,” he said, his face pinched.

  "Dude," Dallas tried to get his attention.

  "Her name isn't even Rosie," Wendy told him.

  Max sent them both a deadpan look.

  "You already knew,” Wendy whispered.

  "Did she tell you she's a missing kid?” Dallas took the top sheet of paper. "Did she tell you she's registered with the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children?” He pushed the two papers against Max's chest. "Did she tell you she’s a runaway?" Dallas held his hands up in frustration. "Did she tell you she had a family out there looking for her?"

  "Is that what he told you?" Max asked, narrowing his eyes at his best friend and sister. He sent a glare to the man by the car. "You're the foster dad, right?" He was the only person from her past, other than her mother, Rosie had ever spoken about.

  The man’s expression turned from desperate to hopeful in a heartbeat. "Does she talk about me?"

  Max felt his blood pressure rise. He'd scarred Rosie for life and he was the one that needing coddling?

  "No. She doesn't.” His voice was cold. “In fact, she doesn't talk about anything. Ever. She's too goddamn afraid once we really know her we'll all leave her." He sent a red-hot look at the guy. "Where do you think she got that idea?"

  "I fucked up." He took a few more steps up and ended up on the middle stair of the porch. "I know that. I went back for her but by the time I got there she was gone."

  "I'm not doing this to her." Max slashed his hand through the air. "I'm not ambushing her with this." He sent a scathing look at his sister. "And you shouldn't have come here to do it either. She thinks you're her friend."

  "And I thought she was who she said she was. She lied," Dallas stepped in front of and unsure looking Wendy.

  "She wasn’t trying to lie to you. She was trying to hide," Max corrected. He cut his eyes to the foster father. "That’s what she does. She hides."

  "I know," the man admitted. "I've been looking for almost eight years."

  "For what?"

  They all turned to find Rosie standing in the doorway. She was dressed in her regular clothes, an oversized fuzzy white sweater and leggings, her hair fixed like it might be any other day.

  Max went to her, his back to everyone else and put a hand on her cheek. "We don't have to do this. They can all leave right now and we'll go back to bed."

  She lifted a shoulder. "Guess it was bound to blow up sometime."

  "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere." When her eyes fell, he lifted her chin. "And neither are you."

  "Happy?” Max turned to see the man, a hopeful look on his face, but this time he was trying to get a glimpse of Rosie.

  "Want me to move or tell them to get lost?"

  She shook her head. "It's okay. You can move."

  He stood nex
t to her and took her ice cold hand in his.

  "You look so different," the man said quietly. "So grown up." When she didn't say anything, he kept going. "Your hair." He shook his head, rethinking his tack. "I'm sorry, Happy. I fucked everything up from that first time I let you go. I should have fought harder for you." He put his thumb and forefinger in his eyes. "We all should have fought harder for you."

  "I'm sorry I stole your money,” Rosie said. "I needed something to get me started and I didn't have anywhere else to go."

  "That was your money. I always told you that."

  She shrugged. "That’s all I’ve ever had left to say to you. I’ve always felt bad about it and for a long time I wondered if you’d charge me for it. I can pay you back now."

  “Happy,” The man pleaded.

  Max looked at Rosie and wondered if it was a cosmic joke that the woman he loved, the one who lived in a state of constant fight or flight, was named Happy.

  “Rosie, there’s nothing for you to run from.” Dallas’s voice was kind, but Max could see Rosie was beyond his kindness, her walls firmly back in place.

  “I’m not running,” she told them, straightening from the door frame. She looked at Dallas and Wendy, hurt radiating off her in waves and then back to the foster father. “I just didn’t want to be found. I don’t want to be Happy anymore. I don’t want to be reminded of her or what she was. I just want to be left alone. Is that too much to ask?”

  “I love you, honey,” the man said. “I’d never stop looking.”

  Rosie scoffed and threw her arms out. “For what? So you could pick me up off the street again just to throw me back?”

  He looked disappointed. “That’s not what happened.”

  Dallas was looking at the man suspiciously. Max wanted to throttle him for not being suspicious before he brought him to confront Rosie.

  “You led me to believe that Rosie had been an endangered runaway.”

  “She was,” the man argued. “When I caught up to her in Virginia she was eating out of a goddamned dumpster.”

  Max’s head quickly swiveled in her direction and from the furious expression on her face, he knew the guy was telling the truth. His heart sank at the thought of her being hungry. Not just hungry, but alone and desperate. It must have been terrifying.