Absolution Road

by Rachel Blaufeld

  He released my jacket and moved his hands to my shoulders, gripping them tightly. “Looks like you met your match. Listen to me good, brother. No lawyer—a public defender, no less—is going to fall into line if you boss her around. So put on your goddamn big-boy pants and deal with it. And it’s not because she’s smarter than you, you’re just going to have to work for it.”

  Shrugging off his grip, I went back at it with the ax while Lane watched, my muscles flexing and straining with each lift. Sweat dripped down my back again beneath my shirt as I considered what he had said. Stopping suddenly, ax in mid-air, I confessed, “Maybe I don’t deserve to be loved after what I did. If Shirley were behind bars, maybe, but not with blood on my hands.”

  Lane shook his head. “I’m not listening to this, Jake. We’ve been through this, hashed it all out. I went to therapy; you’re in therapy. Shirley is beyond the statute of limitations, and you were a little kid who did nothing wrong. There’s no blood on your hands. It’s all on her conscience, and she has to live with that.”

  “Go!” I demanded as I turned my back on him. “I need a little more time out here, and then I’ll come inside and behave.”

  Just as Lane was about to argue with me, Bess called through the open back door. “Here’s Brooks. Maddy is up, and he needs to run around and lift his leg.”

  Her soft voice carried through the air as the dog bounded toward us, and from the looks of it, Bess may as well have announced she was naked and ready for round two. My brother perked up and headed for the house without another word.

  “Hey, big guy.” I ran my hand along the shiny black Lab’s flank before giving him a little noogie on the head. With his tail wagging, he ran off toward a tree and did exactly what his mistress wanted him to do, lifted his leg like a good boy.

  Did I want to be someone’s good guy? Lose myself in someone’s sweet voice? Sneak in a little afternoon delight while our baby napped?

  Am I actually worth it?

  Watching Brooks bound around the yard, looking for another spot to mark, I wasn’t so sure, but I did come up with yet another insane idea, Plan C. Lucky for me, I was in the rural back roads of Pennsylvania where I could set it all in motion.

  With that in mind, I trudged back up to the house and spent the rest of the day cooing over my brother’s baby girl, counting the minutes until morning.

  Aly

  Saturday was downright miserable since I went to visit my mom like I did every weekend. It broke my heart to see her so frail and gray, her hands twisted with arthritis. Although I knew those years of scrubbing floors couldn’t have given her arthritis, all that hard work surely didn’t help.

  The worst part was that she had no clue who I was until about five minutes before I had to leave. Just as my mother’s memory kicked in and her face lit up at the sight of me, I needed to rush off to meet Barry for a cup of coffee so we could go over case notes. Which, of course, made me feel like the worst daughter in the world, knowing she thought I’d just gotten there and left, when I’d really been there for hours.

  The group behind me jostled me a little as I shifted my bag strap on my shoulder while I waited for the bus. When my phone rang, I startled, then patted each of my pockets in search of the source of the intrusion.

  A glance at the screen confirmed that the caller was exactly who I didn’t want to hear from, but I answered anyway.

  At my whispered hello, Drew said, “Hey, Aly? How are you?”

  What the heck was with this guy? We had a nice time, but that was it. Never mind that he didn’t make my pulse race and my heart beat at full speed like Jake.

  “I’m well,” I said, trying to be polite. “Just getting ready to do some work.” If I sounded harried, I thought, maybe we could cut this conversation short.

  “You public-service people bring work home on the weekends too?”

  “Looks like we do bring it home with us. I guess working on the weekends isn’t all bad if it keeps you out of trouble.”

  Shit. Why did I have to go there and call attention to my boring lifestyle? Pissed at myself, I stomped my foot and shoved my hair behind my ear.

  “So, you want to grab some dinner?” he asked.

  Clearly, he wasn’t taking the hint. “Oh, Drew. Thanks for asking, but I can’t.”

  “You mean you don’t want to.”

  His question was aggressive, coming out more as a statement, and put me on the defensive. I was starting to see why he was so successful in the courtroom. The man definitely wasn’t short on tenacity.

  “It’s just a hectic time for me,” I started, then realized it was time to be blunt. “And I can’t really get involved with you right now. That’s it.”

  All of a sudden, I was Little Miss Bold. Where did that come from?

  Because I like a guy who spent Christmas in jail, and I would rather be with him. When he’s not bossing me around, anyway.

  “That’s too bad, Al. It’s just dinner. Are you sure?”

  “Mm-hmm,” I mumbled as I lodged the phone between my neck and shoulder, eager to hang up and confused about my own traitorous thoughts. “It’s not you. It’s bad timing, that’s all.”

  “Can I try again another time?”

  Tenacious. Ugh.

  “Sure. I gotta go now, Drew. Talk soon?”

  “Of course.”

  After disconnecting the call, I moved my strained neck from side to side and looked down the street for my bus. Of course it started to pour down rain while I stood there, and despite putting up the little umbrella I always carried in my messenger bag, I still managed to get completely soaked.

  I wiped the excess moisture off my sleeves when I finally sat down on the bus. Leaning my head on the window, I watched the city blur by, unable to stop myself from thinking of the other night with Jake, and how mad I’d been when I rushed out of the hotel.

  Who did he think he was, trying to control where I lived? He didn’t know the first thing about my circumstances. Did he think this was going to get him laid? It most certainly wasn’t.

  I couldn’t afford to be distracted right now, not with this important case on my desk. I’d met with Cameron again the other day and he was still being evasive, but not as much so. Maybe it was being overly optimistic, but I had to believe I was close to cracking him open.

  I’d tried leveling with him. “If you want me to defend you, I have to know what you know, what you’re hiding. So let’s start over.”

  Cameron had paced the small room, his hands bound, shaking his head. “Just know I didn’t do anything. If I could post bail, I could show you.”

  “That doesn’t help. You can go on some mission if you get out of here, but that’s only going to land you in more trouble. Plus, it’s not your job; it’s mine. Tell me what I need to know to help you,” I pleaded.

  Without another word, he’d ended the meeting, banging on the door for the guard.

  Still, I had hope that I was nearing the truth with Cameron, and Jake Wrigley was nothing more than a big, huge, amazingly hot distraction.

  Except . . . I couldn’t stop thinking about him. Certainly not when I was awake, and even when I was asleep, my dreams were fair game.

  I’d spent the last two nights dreaming of the rugged man sliding inside me, holding his weight up on one forearm while his other hand traced mysterious patterns up and down my rib cage and over the side of my breast. He was buried deep within me, his body pressing against every inch of me, whispering sweet promises in my ear as he stroked me where I didn’t know I ever wanted to be touched. Each time, just as he delved deeper and mumbled, “Everything is going to change,” I’d woken on the verge of coming undone.

  After having coffee with Barry that night, I went home and went to bed. Just before I fell asleep, I willed myself not to think of Jake Wrigley and his bossy ways.

  It didn’t work. When my eyes popped open at six o’clock the next morning—on a Sunday, no less—I jumped out of bed furious with myself. I was so sexually frustrat
ed and charged up, but there was no way I’d take care of the itch the usual way. Vibrator be damned—it was hardly a sufficient replacement.

  So I spent most of the morning clomping around my apartment in a horrid mood, working out my frustrations by doing chores. At noon, my hair was up in a messy bun and I was still in my pajama pants and ragged sweatshirt, trying to decide what I should tackle next. I’d already taken out my frustration on the bathroom tile until it sparkled and shone like something out of a bathroom cleaner commercial, and I was currently working on the area rug with the vacuum cleaner.

  There I was, standing there running the vacuum mindlessly over the same damn spot, drawing the same lines over and over again, when there was a loud knock on the door. It didn’t register it was someone for me and not the neighbor telling me to stop making noise until after a few more bangs, followed by a loud, “Aly!” from the other side.

  I switched off the vacuum and stood still for a moment, unable to believe my ears until he roared again. “Aly! Open the fucking door! The walls are paper thin and I can hear you vacuuming!”

  That was when I padded to the door and opened it a crack to find Jake standing on the other side with a tiny chocolate-colored fur ball in his hands.

  “Jake? What are you doing here?”

  He pushed the door all the way open and strutted right into my apartment without a word. “Shut the door, Aly. It’s bad enough these walls are crap. The neighbors are going to hear enough.”

  I couldn’t answer; I simply stared at him openmouthed. The only sounds in the room were little whimpers coming from the puppy.

  Jake frowned at me, then shrugged. “Okay, I’ll do it.” He crossed the room again and pushed the door closed with a muddy boot, flipping the lock while still cradling the pup.

  Turning back to me, he said, “Listen, I’m sorry I pushed the issue of you moving. What I’m not sorry for is meeting you. By some cruel twist of fate, I was meant to meet you, to meet a woman who’s way too good for me, but who needs me to take care of her. So if you don’t want to move, I bought you a dog. He may be little now, but he’ll be great protection for you.” Then he grinned at me, a huge grin that clearly said he was quite proud of himself.

  “A dog? Jake, I work long hours, take the bus . . . I can’t take care of a dog.”

  I grabbed the back of my couch, needing to prop myself up since my knees suddenly felt like they might fold under me. A strange combination of nerves, excitement, and fear shot through me, coursing through my blood and making me dizzy.

  There was a dog in my apartment. Being held by Jake, the man I’d been having crazy sex dreams about for the last few nights. He’d stormed into my life, larger than life and full of himself, so certain that I needed him. And maybe I did.

  Everything was changing and it was all so overwhelming. He stood there staring at me, expecting some sort of reaction, but I was such an emotional mess, I found myself speechless.

  Finally Jake shrugged. “We’ll figure it out. I can stop by and let Maverick out when I’m traveling between gyms, but he’s here to stay.” He set the puppy down on the floor and the little bugger made a beeline for my bare feet, licking and sniffing every inch, his tail wagging.

  “Maverick?”

  “Aly, meet Maverick, your very own personal bodyguard.”

  When another wide grin spread across Jake’s face and his eyes lit up, I felt myself relenting. How could I not?

  “Maverick? Hardly seems like a bodyguard to me.” I bent down to pet the little fluff ball, and he immediately rolled over on his back.

  “Not yet, but he’s a Lab. He’ll grow fast and will bond with you. He’ll be so fucking attached to you, no one will be able to get near you. Right, Maverick? He’s a tough dude, you better believe it.” Jake crouched on the floor next to me, wrapped his arm around me, and breathed the next part in my ear. “Except for me.”

  His words were warm on my skin, igniting a path straight from my ear to the area between my thighs. I shifted a little, uncomfortable at the tingle that started there. It reminded me of my dreams, and the pent-up desire they’d triggered.

  “It’s too much,” I said. “I don’t even know the first thing about taking care of a dog.” I kept my gaze on the floor, running my hand in figure eights on the furry belly in front of me, fearful of looking into Jake’s eyes. One glance, and I was afraid I’d sell my soul for this man.

  In my whole life, no one had ever gone all-out for me, not like Jake. No one had ever tried to take care of me before, and I wasn’t that kind of girl, someone who needed a man to take care of her. I was a strong, independent woman who put herself through law school. The whole time Jake spoke, I kept reminding myself of this—I didn’t let outsiders in.

  “Aly-cat, it’s not too hard. I already got food for him, and a crate in the truck. We’ll take him to the vet to make sure he’s up on his shots, and you’ll take him on walks. And don’t worry about the expense, I got that covered.”

  His words sent my thoughts into overdrive, pinging from one issue to the next.

  Aly-cat?

  I got that covered.

  I’m a strong, independent woman falling for the bad guy.

  “How do you know all this? That he’ll bond with me and will take care of me? Or even what food to feed him?”

  My knees were protesting from being crouched down so long, so I slid down to the floor even closer to Maverick. Unable to stop myself, I bent lower and I took a deep whiff of the tiny pup. He smelled heavenly. I was so in love already—with the dog, that is.

  Jake reached out to tug gently on the pup’s ear. “I spent the weekend with my brother, Lane, and his wife, Bess. She has the best dog, Brooks Bailey. A long time ago, she went through a dark time and she rescued Brooks from the pound. Now those two are thick as thieves, and you should see the way that dog watches every move she makes . . . well, when he’s not watching their baby. He sleeps underneath the crib now. So, I know.” He lay down on the floor opposite me with Maverick, my new guard dog, between us.

  “He is super sweet,” I admitted, taking another whiff. “But it’s too much. We just met, had one date, and now you’re buying me a dog and calling me Aly-cat. It’s all too much for me. This doesn’t happen in my world.”

  He brought his hand on top of mine, our entwined palms now resting on Mav’s chest, absorbing his rapid heartbeat together.

  Yes, I already had a nickname for the dog—Mav.

  “It’s not too much,” he said, his voice softer than I’d heard it before. “I don’t believe in all that love-at-first-sight bull or kismet nonsense, but I’ve been in therapy long enough to know some things are meant to be. And I was meant for you, Aly, for however long you’ll let me stay. So, let me in.”

  He leaned in and placed a chaste kiss on my forehead, its heat practically singing my fair skin before he continued. “Plus, I adopted him from the shelter where Bess found Brooks. We’re doing a good deed, you and me, giving this guy a home. Up there in the country, dogs have litters all the time, and usually they’re dropped off at the rescue place. Not all of them can be adopted, so some of them have to be put down. It seemed like a good thing to make sure that this little guy didn’t go that way.”

  At that info I looked up at Jake, making full eye contact for the first time since he showed up at the door, and dutifully nodded.

  Jake didn’t waste any more time on words or glances. He just leaned in again, this time kissing me on the lips, a soft, tender, closed-mouth kiss. It was obvious he hadn’t shaved in a few days because he had the beginnings of a scruffy beard, and I lost myself in the dual sensations of the sweetness of his lips and the coarseness of the little hairs rubbing my chin.

  My eyes drifted shut and all I could feel was Jake. His mouth on mine, taking his time exploring my lips, all while three hearts beat in tandem, creating their own symphony. He ran his tongue along my lower lip, seeking permission to enter, and I opened for him. For the first time in my life, I felt lucky, certa
in that I was the girl everyone envied because Jake Wrigley was kissing me.

  This thing between us—whatever it was—was odd, and definitely moving fast. Jake and I just met; I hardly knew anything about him, and he barely knew anything about me and my poor upbringing. My dad’s memory was always with me, and my mom’s dementia and the weight of my school loans loomed over me, but a beautiful, sensitive man was kissing me as if I were the most special girl in the world.

  Yes, I was the lucky one.

  He tasted minty and salty—all man—and I wanted more. I gave my own tongue permission to seek his, exploring his mouth the way he’d just explored mine. Jake slipped his hand around my back and pulled me closer, dropping his thumb and stroking the side of my breast through my sweatshirt. I felt myself get wet below, a pool of desire dripping into my pajama bottoms from one innocent twitch of his thumb. A small whimper escaped me, and he brought his hand underneath my sweatshirt, slowly sliding up to my breast.

  Just as I was arching my back, asking for more, I heard the puppy yip and the moment was over.

  Pulling away from me, his eyelids still at half-mast, Jake whispered, “I think Mav has to take a piss. He’s already stealing your attention away from me, and I’m jealous.”

  He grabbed my hand in his and pulled us up together with one tug, then ran a soft kiss along my jawline before scooping Maverick into his arms and clipping the leash on him.

  And that was how we left on our first dog walk—hand in hand, with the cutest puppy ever tucked into the most gorgeous man’s arm.

  Jake

  Well, the damn dog went and ruined my moment, but I had to give it to the little guy—he got me in the door.

  I’d spent the night before chatting with Bess, watching her coo over Maddy while Lane worked next door in his study, and a deep pit of loneliness had lodged in my throat. So I mentioned to Bess the idea about getting Aly a puppy.

  She’d stood up with the baby in her arms and spun around. “What a great idea!” she’d declared with certainty. “You know, Lane wormed his way into my heart with all those silly gifts. Not the jewelry, but don’t tell him that,” she said with a wink. The giant yellow diamond on her hand cast sparkles all over the room, but she’d said that the little gifts meant the most, so I went with it.