by Evan Grace
***
I’m up the minute I hear the pounding of little feet. I hop out of bed and head into the bathroom to take care of business and brush my teeth. When I’m bent over spitting the foam into the sink, I feel Erik’s strong arms wrap around me. “Merry Christmas, baby.” He kisses my neck.
I turn in his arms, and he kisses me deeply and thoroughly. “Merry Christmas,” I say breathlessly.
The door to the basement opens, and I hear Gretchen call down, “Come on, guys! Santa was here and Grant’s ready to open presents whether we’re there or not.”
The door shuts, and I look up at Erik and laugh. “We better head up there before he just starts opening all the presents.”
Erik throws a t-shirt on and we head upstairs to where my boy is bouncing around the tree. He sees me and screams, “Mommy, look! Santa was here!” Grant points to the empty plate and empty glass, and then points to the presents.
“I see that, baby. Merry Christmas!” He runs to me, and I pick him up, kissing all over his face.
Gretchen comes down in an outfit similar to mine, and the rest of the adults start coming down. Grant hasn’t moved from his spot next to the tree as he looks at each wrapped gift with rapt attention.
It takes us about ten minutes to get coffee and throw breakfast in the oven. Then we all gather in the living room. We’re letting Grant open his Santa presents before we eat breakfast and we’ll open the rest after.
We all sit and watch as Grant sits on Gretchen’s lap and opens gift after gift. My heart is so full as I listen to his excited glee as he opens each gift. My boy loves everything, and as I look around, everyone smiles as they watch him.
Once he’s finished, we head into the dining room for breakfast. Everyone chatters happily as they eat, and I just take it all in. I don’t even think when things were good with my parents that we were talkative like Erik’s family is. Gretchen and Grant finish eating first, and she takes him to get washed up so we can get breakfast cleared and head out to the living room.
Curled up next to Erik, I watch everyone open gifts. I’ve got a pile in front of me, but I’m enjoying watching the others. Gretchen loved her snow globe from Grant, and she’d gotten him the Jurassic Park movies, because he’s got a love for dinosaurs. Most fourteen-year-olds wouldn’t want a five-year-old hanging on them, but the petite blonde just smiles and does whatever my boy wants.
Erik’s parents were thrilled with their gifts, and Nicole actually cried when she opened her bracelet. I had no clue what to get for Erik—he’s not a high-maintenance guy, so I just got him some t-shirts, and this cool USMC picture. I sit and watch nervously as he opens the picture.
He turns to me. “I love it. Thank you.”
I realize they’re all waiting on me to open my presents. I got a pretty sweater and scarf from his mom and dad, and Gretchen got me a couple of bath bombs. I thank them for the gifts even though a teeny tiny part of me is kind of hurt that Erik didn’t get me anything, but the hurt goes away when I sit back and Erik places a familiar blue box on my lap.
My hands tremble as I pull the lid off. A gasp leaves my lips and tears fill my eyes. It’s a platinum chain with a pendant on it with the letter G and Grant’s birthstone. “Do you like it?”
I know we’re in front of his family but I crawl into his lap, burying my face in his neck. “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Thank you so much.”
I get off his lap, and he puts my necklace on for me. I put my hand over it, taking a deep breath. I really don’t want to cry in front of his family, but one tear manages to escape.
Grant comes over to me. “It’s pretty, Mommy. Look it’s a G, for Grant.”
I wrap my arms around him. “Or G for Grunt.” I tickle his sides until he’s squealing.
After we finish our coffee, I help Nicole clean up the mess we made unwrapping presents. Everyone else appears to be in some sort of Nerf gun battle. It’s comical to watch grown-ass men crawl around on the floor, hide in closets, and shoot each other with the orange darts.
Gretchen disappears upstairs to call her friends—to tell them about her gifts, no doubt. Once the mess is cleaned up, Nicole and I sit at the breakfast bar and drink the last of the coffee.
“Why don’t you see your parents?” My eyes widen, and she sees it. “I’m sorry, that was rude and none of my business.”
I grab her hand. “N-No, it’s okay. It’s not the easiest thing to talk about, but we were never super close. After being around your family, I see that now. I think that’s why it was so easy for them to turn their back on me when I refused to leave my abusive ex. Even after I left, they didn’t want anything to do with me.” I wipe away the lone tear that falls. “Ugh, sorry for being a downer.”
“Oh honey, you’re not a downer. I’m sorry I made you feel like you had to tell me.” Nicole gives me a hug, and when I pull back, she looks closer at my necklace. “My boy did good.”
I nod. “He did. I love it so much.” Arms wrap around me, and I tilt my head back, looking up at Erik. “Best. Gift. Ever.” I smile up at him.
“Will you be okay here for a little bit? Mom and I are going to take a wreath to dad’s grave today. We won’t be gone very long.”
“No, of course, go. We’ll be fine.”
They leave shortly after. While they’re gone, the rest of us lounge in the living room watching A Christmas Story.
Chapter Fifteen
Erik
It’s been over two weeks since Christmas, and there’s been no activity at Shayla’s apartment. Last week she’d asked about Grant and her returning home, but I changed the subject. The truth is I don’t want them to leave—I love having them in my space even though I seriously never in a million years would’ve thought I’d want to be domesticated. They make it so easy to want to be with them all the time. Even their damn furball, who seems to love me, has grown on me.
I sit down in the conference room waiting for the others to arrive for our monthly staff meeting, which is just us talking about the cases we’re working on and bouncing ideas around. Plus it gives us a chance to catch up. Jack used to have us meet for weekly dinners, but we seem to keep getting busier and busier, so those dinners have been getting further and further apart.
Reece and Marcus walk in and take their seats around the table. “How was Charlie’s first Christmas?” I ask.
The proud papa pulls out his phone and shows me tons of pictures he’s taken of her. In one, she’s in a sleeper that says, “Baby’s First Christmas” with her eyes closed. In the next, she’s lying on a blanket under the Christmas tree…sleeping. In yet another picture, she’s in a little green dress and leggings, and Del’s holding her…Charlie’s out like a light.
“Dude, your daughter is lazy.” I smile as I hand his phone back to him. Marcus snickers from beside me.
“Fuck you, she’s not lazy. She’s amazing, and I’m going to teach her to always spit up on her Uncle Erik.” We’ve all claimed the title of “uncle” for Charlie and Leif.
I shake my head. “Never gonna happen—I’m too good-looking. She plans on saving that for her dad because he’s an ugly motherfucker.”
“Both of you ain’t got nothing on me,” Marcus announces. “Uncle Marcus is going to be the favorite.” We both look at him and roll our eyes.
Once everyone gets here, we go around the room discussing each case. In the middle of the meeting, Marcus gets a call about a skip that he needs to hunt down.
When we finish up, I head to Shayla’s temporary office. The door is open, and there are a dozen pink roses sitting on her desk. I know I shouldn’t, but I’m fucking nosy and look for a card, but I don’t see one.
I step out as Shayla comes out of the bathroom. Her face lights up when she sees me, and I don’t miss that she’s wearing the necklace I got her for Christmas. She comes up to me and wraps her arms around my waist. “How did you know that pink roses are my favorite flower?”
My stomach dips, and I don’t like i
t. “Baby, I didn’t send them to you.”
Her face pales, and she walks past me into the office—I follow her. “Don’t touch them,” I warn. “Just in case we need to dust the vase for prints. I’ll be right back.”
I head out front to talk to Carrie. “The flowers that came for Shayla—do you know the name of the florist?”
She looks confused. “You didn’t send them?”
“No, I didn’t, and there’s no card.”
Carrie always keeps a copy of whatever she signs just in case there’s ever a need, like now, to trace the origin of a delivery. Maybe we’re all just very untrusting. She pulls out the folder and grabs me the piece of paper with the name of the florist on it. It’s the one just down the street from us. “I’ll be right back,” I tell her before I take the stairs down to the main floor. I quickly reach Julia’s Flower Boutique and I’m immediately nauseated by the overpowering floral scents.
At the counter, an older woman glances up at me. “Can I help you?”
Time to lay on the charm. “I sure hope you can. We had some beautiful roses delivered to our office, but they didn’t come with a card. I was hoping you could help me out and let me know who sent them.”
“What type of flowers?”
“Pink roses in a glass vase, and they were delivered to one of our staff, named Shayla Martin, over at Rogue Security and Investigation.” I lean against the counter and give her my signature smile.
She peers at me over the rims of her glasses. “I can’t give you that information, and I wasn’t here when the order was placed.”
Damn. “Okay, thanks.” I head back to the office and to Shayla’s desk.
When she sees me, she stands up. “Did you find out anything?”
“No—she wouldn’t give me any information. Do you think maybe it was your parents?” She shakes her head. “Your brother?”
“I don’t think they even know where I am. What if it’s Ryan? He brought me pink roses on our first date. Those were the flowers that I had when we were married.” Her voice is whisper soft.
I stop right in front of her, grabbing her shoulders. “How could it be? You haven’t heard from him in two years. How would he even know where to look? There’s been no activity at your place, either. Just sit tight; let me go talk to the guys.” She nods, and I bend down, kissing her lips. “It’s going to be okay.”
I leave her and head down to the conference room, and thankfully find Jack, Coby, and Reece still sitting around the table. “What’s up, Erik?” Jack asks as I shut the door.
I don’t sugarcoat it. “I need to find someone,” I grit out. “Shayla’s ex-husband used to beat her.” The moment the words leave my lips, I can feel the air charge. “She left him and pressed charges after he hit her and Grant walked in on it. The fucker only served six months since it was the one and only time she ever reported the abuse to the police. She hasn’t seen him since, but today someone anonymously sent her pink roses. They’re her favorite flower, and she carried pink roses on her wedding day.”
“I’m on it,” Coby speaks up. “Just give me any information that I need, and I’ll start looking for him.”
I write down everything I know. “Thanks, man. I owe you, especially if I can find the fucking woman beater piece of shit.”
Coby’s young, but fucking smart and a bulldog. He disappears out of the conference room, and I know he’s going to get started looking for the asshole right away.
Reece shakes his head. “I don’t understand how any man can hurt a woman…and why does trouble seem to follow the women in our lives?” He looks at me. “Whatever you need from me, just holler.”
“Thanks, brother.” We may have only known each other a short time, but Reece’s become so much more than a co-worker—okay, that makes us sound like we’re a couple. But we’ve bonded, and we all went through Delilah’s ordeal right along with him.
Reece stands up and leaves; now it’s just Jack and me. “How worried are you about this guy coming back into her life?” he asks.
“I honestly don’t know. There’s no sign he’s been near her place.” I lean forward in my chair. “What do you think?”
“I don’t know, but we should assume it’s him. The bigger question is: Why? It’s been two years. If he was looking for revenge or payback, he wouldn’t have waited this long.” We both stand up. “Use whatever resources we’ve got. I’d rather be overly cautious. I don’t want to be surprised ever again.”
I clap my hand on his shoulder. “Thanks, Jack. I can’t let anything happen to them.”
“We’ll make fucking sure that doesn’t happen. Let me know if I can help with anything.” He follows me out of the conference room.
Jack heads into his office, and I stop in Shayla’s. “Hey, baby.” I hate the spooked look on her face. “It’s going to be okay. We’re all over it.” She nods, although it’s not very convincing.
I kiss her before heading back to my office. No matter what, I’ll do whatever it takes to protect her and Grant—I protect what’s mine.
***
“Fuck, baby. Ride me harder.” I grip Shayla’s hips so tightly that I know I’ll be leaving marks on her, but that just makes my dick harder. She bites her lip to muffle her moan as I reach down farther and grab two handfuls of juicy ass cheek. I bend my knees just enough that she settles deep on my cock. Her pussy flutters around me, and I can feel her arousal running down my balls.
Shayla grabs onto my shoulders, and I situate her legs so her feet are resting on the mattress on both sides of my hips. “I need to come,” she moans.
“Tell me how bad you need to come, Shayla,” I whisper against her throat.
She bites her lip and looks down before looking back up at him. “Please make me come. I ache so bad it hurts. Don’t make me wait.”
Grabbing her tits, I squeeze one nipple and then suck the other into my mouth. Her nipples are so sensitive she can almost come just from stimulation of them alone. Shayla begins rolling her hips as she bounces up down. Seriously, best sex ever. I can make her fall apart with barely a touch.
Her moves become erratic as I can feel her begin to come. “Give me your lips,” I moan as I remove my mouth from her breast. Shayla leans down and moans against my lips as I feel her come over and over. I grab her hips, pinning her down as I thrust up, coming so hard I see stars.
I pull my softening cock from her pussy, and I love the sleepy whimper that leaves her lips. Leaving her for only a minute, I go into the bathroom to clean up and take a leak.
Back in our bedroom, Shayla is burrowed under the blankets—she’s always cold. “Did you check on Grant?” I ask her as I slide into bed.
“Passed out and snoring.” She scooches into my side.
Wrapping my arms around her, I kiss her forehead.
Just before she falls asleep, I swear I hear her mumble, “I love you.”
Too bad she’s already asleep when I whisper back, “I love you too.”
***
Today is a true test on how much headway I’m making with Grant. Shayla is going to dinner with Carrie at Delilah’s house, so I told her I’d pick up Grant from Luna’s and feed him dinner. He’s opened up a lot to me, but I want him to know I’m a good guy who cares about his mother.
Luna answers the door right away. “Hi, Erik. Shayla said you were coming to get Grunt.” She turns toward the hall and hollers, “Grunt, Erik’s here to get you.”
That sweet boy runs toward me. “Hi, Erik.” It surprises me even more when he hugs my legs. “Can we have pizza?” The kid could eat pizza all day every day, and he’d be completely fine with that.
“Do you want to go to the place by mine?”
He nods, and I help him get his coat, hat, and gloves on before we say goodbye and leave. Grant’s quiet at first, but then he starts asking me questions. “Where’s Mommy? When will she be home? Is she going to tuck me in?”
“Remember? Mommy is with Carrie and Delilah. If she’s not home by the time
you go to bed, I’ll make sure she comes in and kisses you. Does that sound okay?” I glance back in the rearview mirror and see Grant smile at me and nod.
We pull up in front of Gino’s and run in to grab our pizza and a four pack of deluxe root beer. When we get home, I feed the cat quickly before we sit down to eat. During dinner, Grant’s pretty quiet, but that’s because the kid is really serious when it comes to his food. The root beer I bought is in bottles, so he thinks he’s a big boy.
After we eat, I get his bath ready. Shayla said that I only needed to help him with washing his hair and making sure he gets all the soap out. Not knowing what the rules are, I turn my back while he strips out of his clothes and then climbs into the tub. I put soap on his little washcloth, and he starts scrubbing his body.
“Make sure you get all the nooks and crannies,” I tell him.
He looks at me with those big brown eyes—just like his mom’s. “What’s a cranny?”
“Uh…I’m not exactly sure, but I’m sure it means every little part of your body. In other words, wash everything.” He must understand that, because he stands up and does a really thorough job of scrubbing himself down.
Once he’s done, I wash his hair and rinse it before letting him play until his hands are little prunes. I comb his hair back and have him change into his pajamas. When we get settled on the couch, I turn on Jurassic Park. He surprises me when he scoots in next to me, leaning into my side.
He’s sound asleep by the time all hell breaks loose in the park. I should shut the movie off and do some work, but I forgot how fun these films are. I lie down on the couch with him lying in front of me, and that’s how Shayla finds us when she gets home.
“Hi, how was he?” she whispers.
“He was perfect. He’s a good kid. We had pizza and drank root beer out of the bottle.” I grab my phone and show her the picture of Grant sitting at the table with his pizza and bottle of root beer.
“Oh my gosh, this is so cute.” I take my phone back and stand up, bringing him with me.