My Lifeline

by RP Fischer

  Fuckin’ A. It’s hugging every tight muscle stopping right above her knees where the creaminess of her legs is torturing me. I want to kiss every inch from calf to what’s underneath that dress. The navy color makes the rest of her skin glow like an angel in the sunlight.

  When I told her to stop squirming because she was slowly torturing me, I told myself it was only to keep things at the pace she wanted, and not to pressure her into anything.

  Walking her toward one of the food tables, we make a pit stop at the dessert table. I pick up one of the cupcakes and hold it out to Kylie. Her ice blue eyes lock onto mine as I inch the treat toward her.

  She takes the cupcake from my hand and runs her index finger through the icing. She raises that finger toward my face, and I give her a warning look and say, “Don’t you dare do what I think you’re about to do, Miss Mitchell.”

  Instead of smearing it across my face, she glances around real quick before taking that icing-covered finger and slowly bringing it to her lips. Watching her wrap those delicious looking lips around her sugared finger is raising my dick higher and higher until is straining to push out of this suit fabric.

  With eyes dancing with mischief, she swipes her finger through the icing again and holds it up to my face. I grab her finger and give it a little lick. Then I take the rest of the digit and flick my tongue over the tip of her finger and pretend it’s her clit that I’m playing with. The gasp from her tells me I’m affecting her as much as she is me. The blush on her cheeks makes my dick harder with wanting to see it spread all over the rest of her body.

  “Alright, that’s it, sweetheart. We’re going to the dance floor where you can’t tempt me to do something that will give our families a set of heart attacks.”

  Her overly exaggerated sigh has me laughing, but it comes out strained with the need to keep my dick down and behaved.

  Her eyes are dancing with matching laughter. “If we muuuust. We can make it through a few hours I guess.”

  Luckily, Matt and Charlie picked a decent playlist for the wedding, and it’s not long before we work up an appetite. Kylie and I have distracted ourselves enough with family and friends to ease some of the sexual tension.

  The night is full of love, friendship, and family.

  There is nowhere else I’d rather be.

  After we eat for a little while, the DJ makes an announcement.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, please join me in welcoming to the dance floor, Mr. and Mrs. Matthew and Charlotte Reynolds.”

  We all clap as Matt pulls Charlie to the dance floor. “Beautiful” by Jim Brickman croons over the speakers. Kylie and I watch as Matt twirls my sister around the floor with the happiest of faces. Matt knew what he wanted when he tried to date my sister. He wouldn’t have fought so hard for her if he didn’t know she was his future.

  I look over to Kylie and think the same thing. I wouldn’t have even said a damn thing to Bryce back in the day if I had the slightest shred of doubt that Kylie and I weren’t meant to be together.

  I grab her hand and kiss her knuckles one by one. Then I open her palm to place a kiss in the center of her soft skin, inhaling her floral scent.

  Damn, how I wish we could be alone right now, but before my impulses win out, the DJ interrupts my thoughts. “We’d now like to invite everyone to join the happy couple on the dance floor.”

  I stand up, fake bow to my amazing girlfriend, and extend my hand.

  “May I have this dance, Miss Mitchell?”

  Her smile lights up her entire face as she lets me guide us to the dance floor. I pull her to me until there’s not even an inkling of space in between us. In her heels, her head reaches directly under my lips, and I take every opportunity to kiss her every chance I get. Our hearts beat as one as we sway to the music. I pull back slightly to look at my woman and see tears glistening in her eyes.

  Panic immediately sets in. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

  She swipes at her eyes quickly and gives me a sad smile. “Nothing’s wrong. This is probably one of the best days of my life in a long time, and it’s not even my own wedding day.”

  She glances around the whole amphitheater, then looks back up to me.

  “Look at my parents’. Look at your parents’. Look at everyone around you. I haven’t seen this much love and happiness in years. We’ve all fought for so long to be truly happy and for once, I see it here today. There’s not a thread of sadness.”

  I kiss her hard, but stop before I need to hide us away from the rest of the world. My thumbs wipe off the rest of the tears dripping from her eyelashes, and I kiss her forehead. I pull her back to my body and watch the rest of the party with the sentiments that someday, hopefully soon, we’ll be dancing to our own wedding song.

  Two weeks is the longest Charlie and I have ever gone without seeing each other or even speaking. Bree and I have managed to not go too far insane without our third Musketeer. I’ve gotten her out of her isolated art cave to help me at the community center.

  I help with the basic dance and cheerleading classes while I shove Bree over to actually teach an art class instead of hiding out in her room, fixing projects that are perfect just the way they are. She’s been thrown for a loop ever since Leo was here for the wedding, and I know she’s somewhat regretting her choice to say no to any sort of romantic relationship with him.

  I’ve gotten to spend more time with Aaron now that our schedules mostly match up. He’s been working a few more concert security gigs while I’m enclosed in the hospital. It’s that time of year for the Valentine’s Day babies to start arriving, and that means I help out the labor and delivery department twice as much before checking in at the NICU. Any delivery can change in an instant, and that’s where I come in.

  We had five big deliveries today, including a set of triplets. I’m so hungry I could eat my own arm, but I still have a little bit to do. I rarely outwardly complain because I know there are people who have it far worse than I do, especially these little newborns.

  I make my final rounds before I clock out for the night and go straight to Aaron’s. I don’t even bother changing out of my scrubs because I’d rather eat and spend time with him. I ordered us a pizza on my way here, and the smell coming from his place tells me they were quick with their delivery.

  I drop my shoes at the door where a strange ball of dog runs up to me.

  I forgot that Aaron was dog sitting Charlie’s dachshund, Ruckus, while they’re on their honeymoon. When Charlie first got Ruckus a few years ago, Aaron pretended that he was his little son because he bolted to Aaron the first chance he got. Aaron loves all animals, and one of the sexiest sights is when Aaron is laying down on the couch shirtless with either Waffles or Ruckus sitting on his stomach.

  Mmmm, I love when my mind trails off to thoughts of Aaron shirtless. Years of military and now law enforcement training have kept him with strong arms, a six pack to rub your hands all over, and a butt that makes any normal person drool at the sight.

  If he dropped pizza sauce on himself, I’d volunteer to lick off every last drop.

  Please let that wish come true tonight.

  I bend down and pick up little Ruckus. I missed having this little guy around the house all the time, but he’s happy at his new home with his other doggy pals.

  “Hey there, little Ruckus, are you behaving yourself for Uncle Aaron?”

  He squirms in my arms, and I know he’s being a perfect angel for Aaron. They have that strange male bond.

  The man in question walks from the kitchen with plates full of pepperoni pizza for us. His voice is warm, “He’s sleeping next to my head at night the same way he used to sleep with Charlie. The little guy sneaks in wherever he can, and I, for one, am ready to tell my sister that he’s not leaving this time. No more Uncle Aaron. Papa Aaron for him.”

  I put Ruckus down on the floor and watch as Aaron puts the pizza plates on the table before he turns to me and wraps me in his arms. I inhale the scent coming from his worn out hi
gh school baseball t-shirt and snuggle in, whispering, “Hi, baby.”

  He kisses the crown of my head before lifting me up close to his face. “Good evening to you, my love. You had great timing on ordering the pizza by the way. It got here a few minutes before you did, so it’s still nice and hot.”

  I run my hands over his chest. “Oh, I know something else that is also nice and hot. It’s not fair how sexy you are in all of your uniforms, or a suit, or even gym shorts and a t-shirt that has seen better days.”

  He sets me down and backs away from me. He turns back toward the plates, and I get to stare at his butt in those flimsy shorts. He catches me staring, and I lick my lips.

  “Don’t be startin’ somethin’ you can’t finish, love. I can hear your stomach from a mile away, and as much as I would love to be wrapped up inside your body, you need fuel before I can do so. Besides, I have something interesting to discuss with you.”

  I throw my purse on the couch before I go into his kitchen to grab us some drinks. I dig into my pizza and knock back four slices before my stomach says it’s had enough. I catch Aaron staring at me, and he leans back against his chair, wiping his lips and tossing the napkin on the table.

  I dab my own lips and toss my napkin, too. A smug smile crosses that handsome face. He knows something so I call him out on it. “Okay, Officer Hanston. Out with whatever you’re trying to hide behind that smile.”

  “Mom’s trying something new this year for the community center, and you’re gonna be a part of it.”

  I roll my eyes at him.

  “Well, no duh. If your mom’s organizing it then I’m happy to help. What is it?”

  “A giant Thanksgiving themed food truck rally and competitive eating contest with a $5,000 prize.”

  I scoff at this news that doesn’t surprise me. “Your mom’s had competitive eating contests before, especially during Thanksgiving week. What’s so different this time?”

  He leans his forearms against the table. “Yeah, but never with the food truck rally, and the competition is different. No hot dogs or hamburgers. It’s a pie contest with all the pies made by Rose’s Corner.”

  I burst into laughter and can’t seem to stop. My stomach starts to cramp as I croak out, “So Charlie’s gonna be making all the pies as a marketing campaign for the restaurant? Please tell me you’re set to enter.”

  That smug smile has returned. “I am, and I’m gonna kick Matt and Jeremy’s butts. David and Tyler are too chicken to enter.”

  “Well, you’re biased on who’s making the food. What do I have to do to help?”

  His smile is all smug again with slight laughter in his tone. “I’m here to recruit you to make fifty pies with Charlotte when they get back from their honeymoon.”

  I smack my hand against my forehead, all of my laughing set aside. “I can’t believe your mother volunteered me for that. She knows I can’t bake! Can’t I be like an Emcee or something?”

  His laughter grows louder and louder. “Oh, sweetheart. It wasn’t my mother. It was yours.”

  “Then she would really know I can’t bake! Please tell me you told them no. If you love me, you will not subject me to this.”

  “We both know you’re going to cave. Besides, knowing my sister, she’s just going to make you box everything up. If she actually got you to bake, I’d pay to see it.”

  I smack his at hand but he captures it. He rubs into my wrist when I cave, “Fine. Since this is for Thanksgiving and to help Rose’s Corner get its first major catering event, then I will risk our lives and stomachs baking pies.”

  “That’s right, baby. Conquer your baking fear.”

  I laugh while I try to stifle the yawn that’s coming from me. It’s larger than I’d like, and it feels like I’m ready to pass out.

  “Alright, Miss Mitchell. I’m not about to have you pass out on the kitchen table”—he winks at me—

  “even though I’d gladly give you mouth to mouth.”

  I gather up my stuff and say a quick goodbye to Ruckus so that Aaron can walk me back over to my house. After a long and sweet kiss goodnight, I take a hot shower to relax and climb into bed.

  For the first time in a long time, my dreams are held with zero sadness.

  My sister and new brother have returned from their European honeymoon. They spent a week in France and then a week in Rome. To say I can’t wait for my own honeymoon in the future is an understatement. It’s not a matter of if Kylie says yes to marry me, but when.

  Kylie and I finally had nights and time to ourselves, but we have yet to fully immerse ourselves in each other. I don’t know why, but maybe we’re both overthinking the entire situation. Whether or not we realize it, we’re putting pressure on ourselves to take the next step. We both know there’s definitely a physical connection between the two of us along with an emotional one, but we can’t seem to cross that final barrier.

  Maybe I should book us a Christmas vacation so that we finally have time to ourselves without any interruptions from work or family. I’m stealing her away once we get through this pie baking party and Thanksgiving feast.

  As reluctant as Kylie was to help Charlie with the pies for the competitive eating contest, I can tell she’s excited about this new event.

  My mom realized not too long ago that traveling prices have spiked and not as many people could afford to travel for both Thanksgiving and Christmas. She created the Thanksgiving-themed food truck rally this year to tie in with the month-long fall carnival that started Halloween night.

  I swear, my mother is pure genius sometimes. Back when my dad was a commercial pilot, she needed something to do and started working at the community center. When my dad and I would go flying together, that’s when my mom’s best plans were hatched. She wanted us to relax and have fun after our lessons.

  I had volunteered to work security for the carnival on some of my days off as long as I could have the afternoon of the competition off.

  Tonight, I’m heading over to Rose’s Corner to see my sister and hopefully snag a pie for myself. Plus, seeing my girl always puts me in a good mood, especially since I plan on watching her attempt to bake. She says she won’t, but knowing her, she’ll at least try.

  When I walk through the door, different scents push up through my nose. The smell of berries and pumpkin would normally make any sane person throw up from the combo, but I know for a fact that they’re not in the same pie. At the very least, this place smells like fucking heaven.

  I spot Matt in the corner messing with his laptop. Instead of just walking up to say hello, I smack the back of his head.

  “Hey, douche, isn’t the first thing you’re supposed to do is greet the customer when they walk in the door?”

  He gets up from his seat, and we do a quick bro hug. “Nah, man. You’re family. I don’t have to do jack shit when you walk through the door.”

  He sits back down, and I take the seat next to him while he closes his laptop. I lean back, trying to get comfortable in the new chairs they ordered.

  “Dude, I’m gonna have to have a talk with my sister so that I can reserve my own chair and get my butt all imprinted in it. Or, actually, I might just assign you that task. Order me a nameplate for the chair I choose in the future.”

  Matt chuckles next to me as he sports his stupid newlywed grin. I know that look anywhere. How his brain got to those thoughts that fast sort of makes me want to throw up.

  “Stop with the grin, Matt. That’s my sister you’re having dirty thoughts about. I may have let you marry her, but that doesn’t mean I wanna know about that shit.”

  “You mean I’m having dirty thoughts about my wife. And I will damn well have any thoughts I want about her anytime I want. So bite me. Besides, knowing you, you’re having naughty thoughts about the woman who’s in the kitchen with her.”

  I laugh to myself. He’s right. I just take a minute and look at the man who managed to make my sister whole again.

  “Married life suits you, man. Thank you
for making her happy.”

  He glances toward the kitchen when we hear the women laughing and shouting.

  “I’m the luckiest bastard in the world.”

  I silently agree with that statement. Any man who captured the heart of my Charlotte Rose is definitely lucky.

  I look at his profile while he’s smiling toward the kitchen.

  “So why aren’t you in there eating all the fruits of their labor?”

  He taps on the laptop when he replies, “I’m uploading all of Bree’s designs to social media and the page for the community center. And then I’m helping with the books so that Char can focus on cooking. Plus, I have the list of all the post-wedding stuff we need to do. It makes me want to kidnap Char and go back to Europe.”

  I get up from the chair and glance into the open window. Charlie and Kylie are huddled close together at one of the new stainless-steel prep tables I helped move in a few weeks ago. The smiles on their faces are enough to drop any man to his knees. The glow on my sister’s face is one I haven’t seen in years. The same look we saw at the wedding.

  True happiness.

  I have to admit, silently of course, because I’m still a man’s man in my own head, that I’m slightly envious.

  I smack the back of Matt’s head again when I make my way to the kitchen. “Let’s go bug our women.”

  The entire stainless steel table is covered in flour. Dough balls are lined up next to pie pans, and the girls are mixing different pie fillings. I sneak up behind Kylie to grab a piece of cinnamon covered apple from her bowl.

  I kiss her cheek. “Make sure you save a pie for me.”

  Then I turn to my sister, wrapping her in a big hug until Matt pushes me off. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing having her help, Mrs. Reynolds?”

  A blush crosses her cheeks. “Mrs. Reynolds. I still love the sound of that.”

  Matt pulls her into his arms and dips her back to kiss her. “You’ll love the sound of it for the rest of your life, woman.”

  Kylie smacks the floured table. “Hey, you two! This is a pristine kitchen. Don’t be gettin’ all dirty here and practicin’ your baby makin’. Your mama entrusted me to make sure these pies get made, and you naughty birds need to calm it for a couple hours.”