Running Home to You (The Running Series)

by Sweeney, Suzanne

  He moves his hands from my arms to my hips and yanks me to him. “Playing hard-to-get, huh?”

  I take the heel of my stiletto and jam it into his foot as hard as I can, sending him crashing back into other unsuspecting people. “Bitch!” he yells at me as he balls up his fist and prepares to attack. As I get ready to dodge his swing, out of nowhere, a tall, dark figure appears between us. All I can see is the look of terror on drunken guy’s face as he takes a step back. A blur flashes before me, and before I know it, the dumbass falls to the floor with a rather loud thump.

  The life-saving avenger turns around to check on me, and when I see his face, my jaw drops. “Ryker?”

  He looks me over from head to toe, inspecting me for any injuries that he might not have prevented. “Are you okay? Did this jackass hurt you at all?” He turns toward the guy splayed out on the ground and kicks him hard in the gut.

  “Holy, shit, Ryker. Stop. I’m fine. I can handle myself in a bar, dammit.”

  “Bullshit.” We both turn and see the bouncers scurrying over to us. “What kind of men would let their women out alone looking like that? Someone had to watch out for you tonight. You’re damn lucky I was here.”

  “Did you say you were watching out for us?” I ask.

  “Absolutely. I haven’t been more than a few feet away from you all night. I intended to stay out of your way unless you needed me. I’m just glad I didn’t let you out of my sight. I hate to think of what might have happened if I didn’t follow you here tonight.”

  I’m stunned silent. What the hell just happened? Ryker followed us to the bar tonight. He’s been watching my friends and me all night. Why? Before I can respond, the bouncers escort Ryker from the bar and drag the idiot away, too.

  The girls come racing up to me. Apparently, they witnessed the encounter from the dance floor. “Jette, was that Ryker being dragged away?” Emmy asks.

  I nod and take a swig of what’s left of my SoCo and lime. “He’s been here all night,” I tell them.

  “No fucking way!” Reese shouts.

  “Way,” I correct her. “And he wasn’t here by accident. He was watching us.”

  “That’s kinda creepy,” Camilla remarks.

  “Well, he’s gone now. We are not going to let anyone ruin our girl’s night out. Come on, ladies, the next round is on me!” Emmy squeezes her way to the bar and gets us shooters. The moment the fiery liquid is sliding down my throat, I make the decision to forget about whatever it was that just happened, and enjoy myself for one night. I’ll deal with Ryker tomorrow.

  A small group of patrons abandon their bar stools, and we rush over to sit down. “Okay ladies, let’s do this,” I tell them as a bartender makes his way over to us. “Four Screaming Orgasms, please!” The cute bartender raises an eyebrow, grins, and then delivers four perfect cocktails for my friends and me.

  Emmy can’t resist the opportunity to get down and dirty, “To Orgasms!” she shouts.

  Reese ads, “May they be plenty!”

  We all clink glasses and for the next few hours, we order every dirty cocktail we can think of. But we have enough sense to make sure to order the occasional round of water between drinks. The night flies by, and by closing time, we can barely stand straight.

  “Here comes my honey bear!” Camilla exclaims as Marcus enters the bar. She throws her arms around her man and proudly tells him, “Marky, you missed it, I had a Screaming Orgasm and it was dee-lish-us!”

  “Oh, Marky-Mark, can’t you go away and come back later? We don’t want to go home yet. I was just about to order us some Blow Jobs,” I giggle. “Ooh, I could get you one, too. Do you want a Blow Job?” I cup my hand over my mouth, but it’s too late, I said it. “That didn’t come out right. Do you want me to have the bartender give you a Blow Job?” The kind-hearted and patient bartender watches and gives Marcus a sympathetic headshake before walking away.

  “Okay, ladies. Drink up. It’s closing time. Let’s go.” He throws some money on the bar to make sure the bartender is well tipped. I guess he doesn’t trust that we remembered to do that. Come to think of it, I’m not sure if we did or not.

  Emmy pouts, “I don’t want to go home. And I don’t want a Blow Job, either, thank you very much. I want a Wet Spot.” She flags down the bartender and calls to him, “Can you make me a Wet Spot?” We all start laughing uncontrollably. “What’s so funny?” Emmy demands.

  “No more Wet Spots, Blow Jobs, or Screaming Orgasms tonight ladies. Time to go.” Marcus is serious. He wants us to leave.

  This time it’s Reese that gives him a hard time. “Okay, okay. We’ll leave. Just one more shot, and I promise we’ll be good. Somebody tell that cute guy behind the bar that I want a Sloe Comfortable Screw.”

  “That’s it. Reese, no Screw for you tonight. Enough, already. I’m really starting to losing my patience.”

  “Oh, you’re an angry elf,” I mutter as I reluctantly get up from my barstool. The girls fall over themselves laughing. I love that movie. Wait, what am I supposed to be doing right now? Oh, yeah, we’re leaving.

  The four of us toss back our drinks, grab our purses, and follow Marcus to the front door. He instructs us to wait by the curb as he brings the truck around. He mutters something about being afraid of us wandering around the parking lot, but I can’t quite follow what he means.

  As we stand there waiting for Marcus to come back with our ride, Ryker pulls up on his motorcycle. “Ladies, how are we getting home tonight?” he asks as he gets off his bike.

  Emmy tells him, “Camilla’s honey bear went to get the truck.”

  “That’s right,” Camilla agrees, “Marcus is my honey bear. And I’m going to be giving him all the honey he wants!”

  Ryker ignores my friends and asks me if I need a ride home.

  “No. Not from you,” I explain as slowly as I can. “You’re not supposed to be here. We didn’t call you for a ride. We called Marcus. Why are you here, anyway? Are you following me? I don’t think Evan would like that, you know.”

  “Like I said before, you shouldn’t be out alone without someone watching out for you. If McGuire was half the man he thinks he is, he’d be here right now instead of me.”

  “Evan’s not here because he trusts me. He knows I wouldn’t want to have a real orgasm with anyone but him.” There. I told him.

  “Jette, get in the truck. Right now,” Marcus demands.

  Hey, where did he come from? “Marcus, you’re sneaky. I didn’t even hear you. Were you in Special Ops or Black Ops? I bet you were. You’d be really good at it, too.”

  Marcus ushers all of us into his SUV and shuts the door. We watch as Marcus talks with Ryker, but we can’t hear what he’s saying. He waits while Ryker rides away before he gets in the truck to take us home. “Okay, girls. I think that’s enough excitement for one night. Where to first?”

  Emmy excitedly tells him, “I want to go to Adam’s house. He never says no to me, you know. He’s not mean, like you.” She takes out her phone to text him that she’s coming over. “He gives me all the orgasms I want. And not the kind in a glass – the real kind.”

  “I bet he’s good at it,” Reese remarks with a smirk on her face. “You can tell by looking at him. Does he give good orgasms, Emmy?”

  “Ooh, yeah! One night, he let me have five of them. I thought he broke my vagina,” she says. “I want to play a game. We’re going to play Two Truths and A Lie. Everybody gets a turn.”

  “Sounds like fun. How do you play?” I ask.

  “Jette, everybody knows how to play. When it’s your turn,” Emmy explains, “you have to tell two truths and a lie. We have to guess the lie.”

  Camilla asks, “Does it have to be about sex?”

  “Obviously!” Reese answers. “Camilla, you go first.”

  “Okay. Let’s see. One. I gave it up to Marcus on our second date. Two. Marcus likes to be on top. Three. Marcus likes to sleep in the nude.”

  “Fuck me,” Marcus gripes. “Do you girls have t
o talk about sex? I’m right here and I work with all of you!”

  Emmy guesses first. “You lied about the second date sex. You definitely made him work for it. You have to try and make them harder, Camilla.”

  “Ha, ha. I win! The lie is that Marcus likes to be on top. I’m the one who likes to be on top.” Poor man just keeps driving, doing his best to ignore us.

  “I’m hoping you’re all going to be too drunk to remember this in the morning,” he groans.

  Camilla picks Emmy to go next. “Ready? One. Adam likes to tie me up sometimes. Two. He gave me an orgasm under the table in a Manhattan restaurant. Three. I kissed a girl once, and it was hot.”

  “Holy crap,” Marcus mumbles to no one in particular. “Get me the fuck out of here.”

  “Let me guess,” I jump in before anyone else. “It’s got to be the restaurant orgasm. I was with you both times Adam took you to dinner in Manhattan.”

  “Nope, sorry Jette. I win. All three are the truth,” Emmy proudly proclaims. “I pick Reese to go next.”

  “Eww, Emmy. That means that he ... that you ... right there? Seriously?”

  “Yup!”

  “Shut up, it’s my turn,” Reese interrupts. “Here goes. One. I lost my virginity at fifteen. Two. Once, I woke up naked in bed with a guy I’ve never seen before. Three. I’m in love with Derek.”

  We all gasp. No one says a word. “Well, isn’t anyone going to guess?” Reese asks.

  “Reese, are you in love with Derek?” I ask.

  “You’re not supposed to guess the truth, you’re supposed to guess the lie. I wasn’t fifteen, I was sixteen when I lost my virginity. I win.”

  “Reese, honey, if you’re in love with Derek, why did you break up with him? Is he a bad lay?” Emmy asks.

  “Hell, no. Derek can go for hours. He likes to try new things and do all kinds of stuff. I just can’t be with him. That’s why.”

  “Reese, you must be really drunk, because that doesn’t make any sense at all,” Camilla chimes in.

  “Derek has no money. I grew up poor. I wore hand-me-downs and boys jeans until I was sixteen. I can’t ever do that again. The man I marry has to have money. Being poor sucks,” she declares. “I’m tired,” she says as she lays her head on my shoulder and quietly falls asleep.

  My eyes are starting to get heavy, too. I hear Adam’s voice as Emmy’s door opens and he removes her from the vehicle. He’s so sweet and gentle with Emmy, like she’s precious and fragile. I suppose in some ways, she is. “Good night, Emmy. Go get your orgasms,” I call out to her.

  “Hey, man, what the hell happened tonight?” Adam asks Marcus as they shake hands.

  “They got a load on and all they wanted to do was talk about sex. I know more about you than I ever wanted to know, dude.” Marcus leaves his window open as he drives to our next stop, Reese’s place. The cool air blowing in our faces wakes us both up. Reese pulls out her cell phone and starts texting.

  “Who was that?” I ask.

  “If Emmy can get laid tonight, then so can I.” Marcus pulls up to Reese’s apartment and helps walk her to the door.

  Now that I’m alone in the back seat, I decide to lie down, just until we get home. The back seat of his SUV is so comfy. I could sleep here all night.

  The next thing I know, I’m being picked up and carried away. I’m so tired, but I’m curious, too. I open my eyes just enough to see that it’s Evan’s strong arms holding me and carrying me inside his home. “Wait a minute. I don’t live here anymore.” God, he smells good. I snuggle up and put my nose in his neck, close my eyes and inhale. “You smell good,” I tell him.

  “You drank a lot tonight, baby. You can’t go home alone. You’re staying here tonight.”

  “But Reese is alone. And she’s way drunker than I am,” I tell him.

  “She’s not alone, baby. Derek’s there with her. Marcus stayed until he arrived.”

  “Oh, that’s nice. Did you know I had Sex on the Beach tonight? I tried to get a Blow Job, but Marcus wouldn’t let me.” Evan laughs at me. That’s not nice.

  Evan carries me into the kitchen and gets me a glass of water and a few aspirin. “Here, take these,” he says. I do as I’m told.

  “Tell me again why I’m here,” I tell him.

  “Auggie stayed at his parents’ tonight so you could go out. You’re too drunk to go home alone,” he tells me.

  “Oh, yeah. Do you really love me, Evan?” I ask.

  “I do.”

  “That’s nice. Are you going to marry me?”

  “Probably.”

  “That’s nice. I want to get married some day. Don’t you think we’d make pretty babies?” I ask him. “I hope they’re all boys and they look exactly like you.”

  “Oh, baby. You don’t want boys like me. We’re nothing but trouble. We’re going to have beautiful girls that look just like you. And they’ll be smart, too.”

  “Okay. Can I go to bed now? I’m tired.”

  Evan lifts me up and carries me into the bedroom. He helps me undress, then tucks me into bed. He kisses me on the head and whispers, “I love you, Juliette.”

  I close my eyes and breathe in deeply. “The bed smells good, just like you.”

  “Good night, baby.” Evan turns and walks to the door, turns out the lights, and walks away.

  “Evan!” I yell as panic grabs hold of me. “Come back.”

  “What’s wrong? Do you feel sick? Wait, I’ll go grab something.”

  “No, don’t leave. I don’t want to be alone. Please don’t go away again.”

  “Okay.” He slips off his clothes and climbs into bed with me. He curls up on one side, and pulls me close. We fit together perfectly, like two pieces of a puzzle. It feels so good to be back in this bed. I grab hold of his arm that’s resting across my middle.

  “Good night, Evan. I love you, too,” I answer as sleep claims me.

  As I’m drifting off to sleep, I hear Evan whisper softly, “Forever.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Don’t Look a Gift Horse in the Mouth

  I wake early the next day, well before the sun. As I attempt to adjust my position, I feel a tugging sensation in my middle. Once the fog in my mind clears, I realize that pulling sensation is Evan’s arm. A smile slowly etches across my face as I listen to him sleep. I know he’s sound asleep without even looking. His breathing is slow and steady, and I can feel his warm breath sweeping across my shoulder. I cuddle into his warm embrace a little more deeply and drift back into a blissful sleep in the arms of the man I love. I have the most magical dreams of beautiful little brown haired girls all holding Winnie the Pooh honey bears.

  The next time I wake, the sun is shining brightly through the window, casting the room in a glorious ray of blue light. My head is resting on Evan’s chest and this time it’s my arm holding tightly across his middle. He looks down at me and moves a stray hair behind my ear. “Good morning,” he hums happily. “How are you feeling today?”

  I look up into his piercing blue eyes. He smiles, flashing the most hypnotizing dimples. “Too soon to say, really.” Evan’s arm is wrapped tightly around me, stroking my back and sending tiny sparks of electricity shooting through me like wildfire. I wrap a leg around his, the need to feel close to him nearly overwhelming.

  With my free hand, I take advantage of the opportunity to reacquaint myself with the chiseled perfection of his beautifully formed chest. I trace the lines that outline his well-sculpted abs. When I begin to explore the tiny hairs just below his navel, he grabs my hand, brings it to his lips, and kisses each of my knuckles.

  “If I stay here much longer, I can’t be held responsible for what happens next, Juliette.” Evan holds me tightly, and the evidence of his affections for me is pressing firmly against me.

  “I’m afraid to get up, Evan. I’m frightened that this is just another dream and when I get up, I’ll wake and you’ll disappear again.”

  “Oh, sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere.” He squeezes me
again. “But I’m also not going to be the one to disobey doctor’s orders. When I bring you back into our bed, there will be no doubt about what may or may not happen.” He gives me a playful slap on my ass. “You get that beautiful ass in the shower and I’ll start the coffee. Don’t be long.”

  Evan slips from the bedroom and I watch as he disappears from view. When I attempt to make myself vertical, the consequences of last night’s over indulgence becomes crystal clear. My head feels like it weighs a hundred pounds. I definitely overdid it last night. I haven’t felt this bad in a long time.

  After a long, hot shower, I join Evan in the kitchen where I find him staring out the window, holding a cup of coffee, and dressed in a pair of long shorts and a crimson red Sentinel’s t-shirt. My eyes dart to his bare feet. I’ve always felt there was something strangely intimate about a man’s bare feet and I’ve given it quite a bit of thought about why the sight of something so banal brings me such joy. God knows there’s nothing attractive about men’s hairy feet. As I’m standing here, I think I finally understand. I never had a man in my house growing up. It was just my mother and me. The men who visited our home came and went, friends, neighbors, uncles, and cousins. Their visits were always short and infrequent. A man walking around in bare feet represents the close intimacy of family, of belonging, of comfort. Seeing him standing there, I know exactly where I belong, where I find my comfort, and where I want to build my family.

  “You look deep in thought, Juliette. Is everything okay?” he asks.

  I nod my head. “Oh, yeah. Everything’s good. Really good.”

  I pour myself a cup of hot coffee and take a seat at the kitchen table. Evan joins me and asks, “Did you girls have fun last night? You were so cute when you got here.”

  “I was cute? I vaguely remember leaving the bar last night with Marcus.” I close my eyes and try to recall what happened after that, but I come up blank. “Why didn’t Marcus bring me home last night? Was I that bad? Did I say anything embarrassing?”

  “A true gentleman doesn’t reveal his secrets.”

  “Well, tell me this. Can you tell me why I dreamed of beautiful little brown-haired girls and Winnie the Pooh?” I ask him.