HOT as F*CK

by Scott Hildreth

  It wasn’t a subject I liked to discuss with anyone, and it was the reason I hadn’t spoken to my father – or my sister – in so many years. In front of Shane, who I had already shared my nephew being a special needs child, I hated to bring up the subject. Although we hadn’t discussed the matter since I went to New Mexico and brought him home, I could only guess that he still struggled with the subject.

  “Sorry to hear it, Brother,” Ripp said.

  “Not as sorry as I am to say it,” I said. “It makes me sick.”

  And truer words had never been spoken.

  Chapter Two Hundred Sixty-Four

  Early Winter 2014, Austin, Texas, USA

  Life, at least for me, had always been full of surprises. To say that things happen when they’re least expected would be the understatement of a lifetime. Although Vee was further along than Kace in her pregnancy, Kace gave birth first, a little prematurely. I received a text message and multiple calls from both Shane and Ripp, but I was out for a ride on my motorcycle and didn’t see them until I stopped for gas.

  The ninety miles I rode from south of the city passed in less than an hour, and I came to a screeching halt beside the entrance of the hospital. After parking my motorcycle on the edge of sidewalk leading to the hospital, I rushed through the door and to the receptionist desk.

  “Dekkar. Childbirth, they’ve moved them. I need the room number, please,” I said.

  “Spell the name,” she receptionist said.

  “D. E. K. K. A. R. Dekkar,” I said excitedly.

  She pecked at the keys, stared at the monitor, and glanced up. “Room 724. Down the hall, on the elevator on the left, and up to seven. It’s on the right.”

  “Do you have a flower shop?” I asked.

  “Right down the hall, on the way to the elevator. Third door on the left,” she said.

  I chose the perfect bouquet of flowers and ran down the hall to the elevator. As the door opened on the seventh floor, I clutched the flowers, gazed down at the toes of my boots, and exhaled. I calmly walked down the hallway, glancing at each of the numbers until I reached their room.

  724.

  I rubbed the palms of my hands against the thighs of my jeans and took a deep breath. On the other side of the door I could hear Ripp’s voice over everything else. Another deep breath, and I pushed the door open.

  “Uncle A-Train is here,” I whispered as I walked into the room.

  Kace’s hair was an absolute mess, and she looked exhausted. Shane looked equally worn out, but was smiling from ear to ear. Ripp, dressed in his typical shorts, wife beater, and Chucks despite the fact it was winter, and Vee was wearing cotton pregnancy pants, a cute black top, and flats.

  As I walked into the room, Kace’s eyes shifted to the flowers I held, and she forced a slight smile as she tried to sit up.

  “These are for you,” I said as I leaned over the edge of the bed and kissed her cheek.

  I placed the vase of flowers on the table beside the bed.

  “Fellas,” I said as I nodded my head toward Shane and Ripp.

  “Congratulations,” I said as I shook Shane’s hand.

  “Thank you,” he said.

  I did my best to contain my excitement, but it didn’t last long. Beside the far side of the bed a bassinet sat with a heat lamp over it. I craned my neck and did my best to peer inside, but from the end of the bed I could see nothing.

  I tossed my head toward the side of the bed as I edged my way past Ripp. “Can I hold…”

  My throat constricted and my mouth went completely dry. It was much tougher than I imagined it would be. I wedged myself between the edge of the bed and the small bed the baby was sleeping in. I glanced at Shane, shifted my eyes toward Kace, and met her gaze. She nodded her head and grinned.

  I peered into the bassinet.

  Innocently sleeping and undoubtedly developing into a man with each passing second, he was much smaller than I remembered my first nephew being. After admiring him for a few seconds, my eyes began to well with tears.

  “Don’t worry, Alec. You won’t break him,” I heard Kace say from behind me.

  I turned away from the bassinet and faced the bathroom. “My hands. I need to wash my hands.”

  I walked into the bathroom, closed the door, and stared down at my boots as I washed my hands. After more than a decade of experiencing my fair share of death, embracing a new life being introduced to the earth was almost more than I could stand to witness. I dried my hands, inhaled a shallow breath, and stared blankly into the mirror. I couldn’t let this nephew escape me.

  You keep him healthy, Lord, and I’ll keep him safe.

  I reached for the door, pulled it open, and paused.

  Thank you.

  “Good to go,” I said as I raised my hands in the air.

  I quietly walked to the bassinet, reached inside, and carefully picked up my nephew.

  Ripp continued to tell a story, Shane argued about the size of the man Ripp had challenged to a fight, and Kace quietly laughed.

  For me, the room fell silent.

  I gazed down at the child cradled in my arms and couldn’t help but smile. A new life. Another chance for someone to grow into the next person to make a difference on earth. Potentially the future President of the United States, a doctor who may cure cancer, or possibly the man who just might convince the world to live in peace.

  I turned away from the crowd, began to hum him a tune, and allowed a tear to roll down my cheek.

  And for that moment, as I held my sleeping nephew in my arms, nothing else mattered.

  Chapter Two Hundred Sixty-Five

  Early Winter 2014, Austin, Texas, USA

  “Do you have anything in white gold? I’ve never much cared for yellow gold,” I said as I gazed at the display of jewelry he had placed in front of me.

  “We certainly do, it’s one case over, follow me,” he said as he reached for the jewelry.

  After securing the bracelets in the display I followed him to the next case, peered down at the jewelry, and grinned. They were exactly what I had in mind. The thought of giving Katie a gift she could enjoy for a lifetime was exciting to me, and although I realized life offered no assurances, I had no reason to believe we wouldn’t be spending the rest of our lives together.

  “Here are three that are my personal favorites,” he said as he placed three velvet-lined boxes on the glass surface.

  I picked up the one in the center, studied it, and slid the box to the side. The diamonds were larger, had better clarity, and the bracelet appeared to be of slightly better quality than the others. “These are custom, correct?”

  “That is correct, our jeweler hand-crafts them all,” he said with a nod. “That particular piece is 8 carats total weight. The stones are VS1 clarity and E color. We have less expensive pieces, but we do not have a better quality. If cost is something you’re concerned with…”

  I found it unnerving that because of how I was dressed and that I rode in on a Harley he would find me less capable to purchase his jewelry than anyone else who would happen into his store.

  “Did I mention cost?” I asked.

  “No, Sir. You did not,” he said.

  “I’ll take this one,” I said as I placed my hand over the bracelet I had set to the side.

  I watched his Adam’s apple rise and fall as his eyes shifted downward and recognized which one I had chosen.

  “That particular piece is $21,000. There will be state tax added, increasing the total to $21,650,” he said flatly.

  “Put the others back in the case, I’ll take it. Do you take cash?” I asked.

  He swallowed heavily again. “We certainly do.”

  I nodded my head and lowered the pack from my shoulders. After checking over each shoulder and determining the store was still empty, I carefully lifted the pack to the counter. I wanted Katie to have something that would act as a constant reminder of my presence in her life, and it’s been said diamonds are forever. Nothing would make m
e happier than to see her pleasure from a gift I had chosen for her.

  “Safe to count it here?” I asked.

  He glanced over his shoulder, flipped a switch on the wall, and nodded his head. “Yes, it is.”

  I counted 217 one-hundred dollar bills, placed them on the counter, and after his recounting and totaling the amount, he gave me fifty-dollars change.

  “Would you like me to gift wrap it?” he asked.

  I reached into my pack and removed a hand towel I had brought with me. “No, Sir. I’ll take care of that myself.”

  After wrapping the box in the towel and placing it in my pack, I zipped the pack up.

  “All secure?” he asked.

  I pulled the pack over my shoulder. “Couldn’t be safer if it was in Fort Knox.”

  He reached to the side and flipped the switch, deactivating the electronic door lock. “You’re free to browse the store if you like, or the door’s unlocked whenever you’re ready.”

  “Appreciate it,” I said over my shoulder.

  “My pleasure,” he said. “Glad we could be of service.”

  I pushed the door open, paused, and turned to face the store. “Do you make custom rings as well?”

  “We certainly do,” he said with a smile.

  I nodded my head and turned away.

  Good to know.

  If things keep going my way, I may need one here pretty soon.

  Chapter Two Hundred Sixty-Six

  Early Winter 2014, Austin, Texas, USA

  In Katie’s presence, the events of my day disappeared, regardless of what they might be. I found her to be cleansing to me, and each time we were together I felt myself becoming a fractionally better man that I was when we saw each other last.

  Our time together seemed to pass quickly, and I couldn’t get enough exposure to her no matter how frequently I was able to see her. While we were in each other’s arms or embraced in a kiss, my watch seemed to spin at a much slower pace; allowing me to always enjoy our intimacy for what I perceived as a longer period of time.

  I positioned the steak on the plate beside the grilled vegetables and placed the small bowl of peaches to the side. As I carefully lifted a portion of the salad from the bowl to the plate, she shouted from the other room.

  “You sure you don’t want me to help?” she asked from the other room.

  “Just about done. Be there in just a minute,” I responded.

  “But you don’t want any help?” she asked.

  “Sure don’t,” I said. “Just sit still.”

  “Preparing her a meal was more enjoyable than I ever would have imagined. Making something I hoped she would enjoy with my own hands gave me a sense of accomplishment I couldn’t recall ever feeling. If it happened that she actually enjoyed eating it as much as I enjoyed preparing it, I would be an extremely happy man.

  I lifted the plates from the counter and carefully walked to the dining room.

  “Viola,” I said as I lowered her plate to the table.

  “Wow,” she said. “It looks great.”

  “Unless you got the wrong plate, your steak should be medium-well. Mine’s medium-rare, so if you cut into it and it’s wrong, hand it over,” I said as I sat down.

  “Believe me, I will,” she said with a laugh.

  “Peaches?” she asked as she poked the peach with her fork.

  “It’s dessert, but I kind of had to do it at the same time on the grille. I was about out of gas. They’re grilled with brown sugar sprinkled on them,” I said as I motioned toward her plate.

  “Well, it looks great,” she said.

  “I’ve got the right steak,” she said as she lifted a piece of the meat to her mouth.

  “That’s good, because I don’t think I could eat a piece of medium-well steak, even if I tried,” I said.

  “It seems like it’s still almost alive,” she said. “I don’t get it.”

  I shrugged my shoulders as I poked my fork into my salad. “Maybe it’s a man thing.”

  “I think so,” she said. “And it’s got something to do with life, death, and everything in between.”

  I’d never looked at it that way, but she had a good point. Men eating their steaks half-raw could very well have to do with something primal within us. As I cut into my meat and the little remaining blood ran onto the plate, I decided she was right.

  We enjoyed our meal, and the peaches – as I had hoped – were a huge success.

  “These peaches are good,” she said as she shoveled them into her mouth.

  “I’m glad you like them,” I said.

  “I don’t like them, I love them. I’m going to have to tell mom about them. You just grilled them?” she asked.

  “That’s it. I bought ‘em fresh at the store, cut ‘em in quarters, and grilled them until they were slightly soft. Then I just sprinkled the brown sugar on them,” I said.

  “Well, they’re great,” she said.

  “And this entire thing,” she said as she waved her hand toward the table. “It’s just. I don’t know. It’s too much.”

  “It’s dinner. It’s a necessary part of the day,” I said as I poked my last peach with the tines of my fork.

  “Well, most guys don’t do things like this,” she said.

  Well, maybe they should.

  I looked up from my plate to see her gazing into the small bowl hoping to find a peach that didn’t exist. Finally, after she realized they were truly gone, she sat up straight and exhaled a sigh of frustration.

  To anyone else she probably appeared no differently than she did on any other day. To me, she seemed to be more beautiful than ever. I didn’t look at her with eyes more capable of seeing, or with a mind more open that it had ever been in the past, but she was truly different. I sat and admired her until she met my gaze. As she returned my smile and brushed her hair over her ears, I raised my fork and offered her my peach.

  “It’s not the last one is it?” she asked.

  I nodded my head. “Last one in the house. I cooked them all.”

  “I don’t want to take your last one, you eat it,” she said.

  I shook my head and wiggled my fork slightly, careful to keep the beloved peach from falling to the table.

  “I want you to have it” I said.

  “Share?” she asked.

  “Sure,” I said as I reached over the table and handed her my fork.

  I fully expected her to eat half the peach and hand me the fork in return. Instead, she lifted the fork to her mouth, bit into the peach, and pulled it from the tine. With the peach half in her mouth and half out, she leaned over the table.

  Without speaking, our mouths met. The sugar-coated peach was nothing compared to the sweet kiss of her lips, something I seemed to yearn for from the very moment our last kiss ended.

  Resting on my elbows and hovering over the center of the table, I kissed her fully and passionately, while the sweet taste of the peach lingered throughout the length of the kiss. Long after the taste of the peach was gone, she broke the embrace.

  I opened my eyes and gazed in her direction. She tilted her head, stared up at the ceiling, and mumbled to herself as I lowered myself into my chair.

  “What?” I asked.

  “I don’t want this to end,” she said.

  I shook my head. “It won’t.”

  “You make my stomach go crazy each time you kiss me. It’s just too good to be true,” she said.

  “I think that’s just what happens when two people are really meant to be together,” I said.

  I truly believed what I told her. Kissing her was more satisfying than anything to me. No other woman on earth could provide me the feeling of satisfaction that Katie provided me by simply kissing me, and not only did I know it, I wasn’t afraid to admit it.

  “Kissing you takes me somewhere else. Somewhere nice,” I said.

  “I feel the same way,” she said as she stood from the table.

  I stood from my seat. “Hand me your plate. I’ll get
it. I’ve got one more thing.”

  “I’ll help you,” she said.

  I shook my head. “It’s a surprise.”

  “Crap. I hate surprises. Okay,” she said as she handed me her plate.

  I carried the dishes to the kitchen, opened the freezer, and removed two dishes of raspberry sorbet, being careful not to mix them up. As I carried them to the dining room, I fought the urge to smile.

  “Here, maybe it’ll help you forget the peaches. It’s just a small dish,” I said as I handed it to her.

  “It’s cute,” she said.

  I sat in my chair and slowly ate my sorbet as I watched her eat hers. As her ball of raspberry-flavored dessert slowly disappeared, I wondered if I had possibly given her the wrong bowl.

  “Theres…” she said as she shifted her eyes to her bowl.

  “Something in here. It’s…” she placed her spoon to the side, lifted the bowl and peered inside.

  She shifted her eyes toward me.

  I shrugged my shoulders and attempted to act preoccupied. As I caught a glimpse of her fishing in the bowl with her fingers, I glanced over the table.

  She pulled the bracelet from the dish and held it between her thumb and forefinger, dangling it over the table. Raspberry sorbet dripped from the end of the string of diamonds as she stared at it, still obviously not knowing exactly what it was. It looked like a small string of red beads.

  “What’d you find?” I asked.

  Her lack of response prompted me to stand, grab my glass of water, and walk to her side.

  “Here,” I said as I reached for the bracelet.

  I took it from the tips of her fingers, rinsed it in the glass of water, and wiped it as clean as I was able in her napkin. After drying it off fully, I placed it in my palm and extended my hand.

  She gazed into my hand, gasped, and shifted her eyes upward. As she stood from her seat she turned to face me, opened her mouth and said nothing. She stood with her mouth agape and her eyes filled with surprise as I carefully clasped it around her wrist.

  She didn’t speak. She really didn’t have to, her eyes said everything words would have been able to, and even more. As she leaned forward, I was fully aware we were about to kiss once again, and nothing, at least at that particular moment, could have made me happier.