Morrison

by Chelsea Camaron

  “Jared, in all the things I’ve been through, you’re one of the most dependable people I know.”

  “Got a past, woman. It’s not one lined in jokes or fairy tales. It’s dark, it’s ugly, and it’s all my own doing.”

  I pour him another shot and lean in. “Wanna talk about it?”

  “When you can bring the dead back to life, then we can talk. Until then, just know you’re family to the Caldwells, and they’ll take care of you.”

  “Well, Jared, you’re family to me now, and I wanna take care of you.”

  “A different day, a different time, maybe things could be different. They aren’t, though, so we play the hand we’re dealt—much like you, little momma.” Jared smirks as he calls me by Morrison’s nickname for me. “When the cards in your hand are strong, hold on to them, don’t toss them aside and risk losing it all. Morrison is good. Hailey, play the hand with him and see where it goes—that’s all I’m trying to tell you.”

  “You are a wise man, Jared.”

  “Lived once, Hailey. Loved once, deeply. Lost it all…down a bottle, no less. I come here to escape it. Only, in you, I see this woman who’s beautiful, strong, independent, and scared out of her fucking mind. So, instead of drinking my day away and tossing around one-liners, I want to help you to see what everyone else can see in you. We’re all pulling for you to let down your guard, and at the same time not silently jump at your own damn shadow. Livi’s been there. She got through it, and you will, too.”

  As I finish my shift, I think hard on Jared’s words. Livi and I have grown close over my time here. Her panty-wearing, ass-rubbing brand of “crazy,” as Hendrix calls it, is inspiring. I don’t know the details of her past, but I can see her future, and it’s full of hope, promise, and damn good things.

  I sigh and whisper to the empty bar as I close up, “Oh, Momma, where are you to talk to now?”

  “Feel the same way most days, Hailey.” This comes from Jagger, who rounds the corner behind the bar after locking up the cash till for the night.

  I never stopped to think about this monumental, common thing I share with Morrison—we both lost our moms. Mine was far from perfect, but at the end of every single day, she was my best friend. We laughed, we talked until the sun came up more times than I can count, and in all the chaos, she never once let me feel alone. Even if she did convince me that being with Monte was a good thing, she was there to hold my hand and see me through the darkest times. I wasn’t alone until she was gone. Then Marisa came and filled my life once again. Only, Marisa doesn’t have the void of losing her mother, like Morrison and I do. I hope she is old and gray before she faces that kind of loss.

  I look at Jagger intently as he pours himself a shot. When he does the same for me, I shake my head no and lift up my car keys.

  “I see a lot of her in you,” he says before tossing back his drink.

  “That so?”

  “Yup. Momma was a sassy spitfire right to the end. She had fight, Hailey, real fight”—he beats against his chest—“the kind that comes from in here. You could’ve stayed with that Monte fucker, but you didn’t. You got out. You fought for your freedom, and more than that, you fought for your little girl. You got heart, Hailey.”

  Tears fill my eyes. “I’m a mess, Jagger.”

  “Not in the least bit. Gotta let people in, gotta let people help, Hailey. Morrison, he’ll give you the security you’ve never had, but you gotta want that.”

  “I do, but—”

  “But nothing. Has my brother ever not given you a choice? The way I see it, he’s let you walk away. He’s stood back and given you space while keeping you and little one safe. You got a good job that you’re good at, and you work hard. You got your own place. You got your little girl safe and sound, away from the asshole who helped make her. You are doing it all on your own. You let all of us in—Hendrix, Livi, me, and even Jared. Yet, you keep Morrison at a distance. I see it—you’ve got feelings, but you keep trying to fight them. Fight is good when it’s called for, but why fight the pull to Morrison? Why deny you both? You’re the dealer; you hold the cards in your hand.”

  I lean against the bar, wishing I wasn’t driving. Shit is getting deep, and I need to take the edge off.

  “It’s not just me,” I whisper.

  Jagger throws his head back and laughs. “Babe, that little girl of yours has us all wrapped around her little finger, but most especially my brother. Whether you and him can make a go of this or not, he’ll be in Marisa’s life.”

  I think on it, realizing he’s right. Morrison Caldwell is the kind of man who will be around for Marisa, no matter what.

  We finish locking up, and then I make my way home and quietly enter my apartment.

  Usually after their Wednesday night “dates,” Morrison is on the couch when I get in. Finding it empty, I make my way down the small hall to the soft light coming from Marisa’s room, and I smile as I hear him whispering.

  “A long, long time ago…in a land far away from here,” he continues reading the fairy tale as my chest tightens with emotion.

  I hear the soft sounds of Marisa snoring, so I don’t know why Morrison is still reading, but I pay attention to the words.

  “There was a beautiful little girl. She lived with her mom, who was the most gorgeous woman in all the land. These two were the hidden treasure given to the prince as a gift from his mother, the queen. They had to hide away under the bright lights of Sin City until the prince was old enough to know the good inside them when he saw it.” Morrison pauses, and I lean against the wall to listen further. “He had to sow his wild oats and work out his own past, but his momma, the queen, she knew the man she had raised him to be. She knew that, when the time was right, he would become the man for this little girl and her mom.”

  Moving to the doorway so I can be seen, I take in the scene before me as I ask, “Is that so?”

  There on my daughter’s tiny twin bed is Morrison, all six feet of him. His legs are crossed at the ankles, his head rests against the wall since Marisa doesn’t have a headboard, and his arms are crossed over his chest. His eyes are closed, and he seems lost in his thoughts, lost in his fairy tale.

  He doesn’t open his eyes, simply nods his head.

  “Well”—I make my way to him—“do they live happily ever after?”

  He opens his eyes and meets my stare. “I don’t know, Hailey. You tell me.”

  I take him by the hand and lead him out to my living room, where we sit on the couch, him on the right side and me in the middle. Then I turn to face him with my legs tucked under me.

  “Tell me about the queen, Morrison,” I prompt, and he smiles sweetly.

  “Oh, the queen…She was the Queen of Spades. She had love for her boys in spades, as the saying goes. But, ruled as she was by the King of Clubs, she had to take a backseat to his needs, wants, and desires. The only thing the tyrant ever gave her was her boys and a hard time. The Joker was wild all the time, you see. An unpredictable bastard, the King of Clubs was not ashamed to rule his house with an iron fist. This left her three Jacks feeling helpless, and eventually, as the boys’ love and need to protect the queen grew, their resentment toward the king grew as well. In the end, life wasn’t aces, because the queen left this life to go to a better one, but she gave her boys a winning hand before she perished.” Reaching out, he cups my chin and rubs his thumb over my cheek. “She left them with aces in their hands.”

  I bite my bottom lip as I take in his words.

  “The Ace of Diamonds—watching the queen work so hard, the boys developed the drive and ambition that can only be found in this card. The Ace of Clubs was her legacy of intelligence. Hailey, we can’t come up from nothing without first educating ourselves on the lay of the land. The queen gave this to her boys. As a spade herself, she also gave them the Ace of Spades, wanting her boys to be fulfilled in life. She wanted them to be well rounded and strong. Her final card…the Ace of Hearts. The queen left her boys with a legacy of he
art.”

  “Your mom—” His thumb moves to cover my lips, silencing me.

  “To be the good in this world full of bad—I made her that promise, Hailey, and I damn sure meant every fuckin’ word of it. Life wasn’t easy watching our old man put his hands on her. Worse than that was listening to the way he talked to her. Every fucking day, nothing she ever did was right. Momma was strong, though. She didn’t let that eat at her. She didn’t let it wear her down. He may have held her back, but he damn sure didn’t break her.”

  “I’m broken, Morrison.” The admission comes out before I can stop myself.

  He reaches over and pulls me onto his lap. “Baby, you’re a lot of things, but broken isn’t one of them.” With his thumb, he traces my lips. “You’re playing the hand you were dealt—no tricks, no tells, just taking life head-on. You have courage, fight, and resiliency.” He stops and looks into my eyes in a way that makes me feel like he’s trying to reach my soul. “You got heart, little momma. You got more love in you for that little girl than even the Queen of Spades had for her Jacks, and that’s saying something. Let yourself have something good, Hailey…for you and for little chick.”

  I have no words to reply with. None. The man has turned me into a pile of mush, and, at the same time, held me firm. Is this what life with Morrison Caldwell is like? Is he really my safe place to fall?

  Leaning in, I kiss him softly. Leisurely, I explore his lips as he opens his mouth to let my tongue invade. Slowly, I treasure him and all that he’s given to me tonight. When I pull away, he smiles at me in a way that is deliciously Morrison.

  “Well, little momma, you’ve had your bedtime story, so now let’s tuck you in.”

  “Is that so? What had you telling that story at that moment?” My curiosity is back.

  He laughs softly. “Baby, I tell little chick that story every night I’m with her, once she’s sound asleep and we’ve completed the three must-reads of the evening.”

  I arch an eyebrow at him.

  “She told me her perfect daddy would read her two more every night after we finish the first. Well, her perfect man may read three, but I do four. Call me an overachiever.” He winks. “Four aces in a deck. Four stories keep our little girl happy. Four is a lucky number, little momma.” With that, he scoops me up and takes me to my room.

  Without hesitation, I pull him onto the bed with me. Rather than sleep, he gives me four orgasms that are sure to have me remembering this night vividly for a long time to come.

  He gives me good. Somehow, this man has made his way into my life, into my heart, and given me more in these few months than I had had in my entire life. Can it last? Can I hold on to him? It’s taken me a lot to realize that, more than anything, I want to have this with him. The deck is in my hand, the game is Texas Hold’em, and I plan to hold him for as long as I can.

  Chapter 19

  Morrison

  Fuck me, I think as I sit up long after she has fallen asleep while I watched her. Peaceful, beautiful, and satisfied.

  No sass, either.

  I close my eyes for a minute, still thinking about this little momma who thinks she has to be all badass unless she’s with little chick—or I have my hands on her. Never before in my life have I encountered someone who falls almost limp at my touch.

  At first I thought it was all me, but then I figured it was circumstantial, because that’s how she’s had it—no choice. With that realization, the ego seriously deflated, but it’s back now, all amped up on platinum and the knowledge that she truly feels it. She knows I am gonna give it to her. Hell, I’ll give it to her over and over before taking mine. That’s sexy as fuck.

  I stand up, and the fucking air mattress acts like a damn teeter-totter, with her on the down side.

  Her eyes spring open as she jumps, and I snag her arm. Then she starts shaking and trying to catch her breath, scared. I sit down really quickly and grab her, to make sure she’s awake and knows she’s okay, and that turns out to be a bad idea too.

  Little momma is like popcorn on an open fire.

  “Hailey,” I say as a grab her.

  “What the hell is going on?” she gasps.

  “Christ, are you all right; you’re shaking.”

  “Am I all right? No. I just…I just…”

  I can’t help smiling because, aside from it scaring the hell out of her, that shit was comical.

  She looks at me like I’m crazy, and then I see a smile spread.

  “You got your ass kicked by this damn air mattress. You need a damn bed.”

  “Marisa needs a headboard before I get a bed.”

  “Babe, she has a mattress, box spring, and a damn bed frame. I think you put her first already, and it’s time you get a mattress. Not that doing you on this wasn’t a cool experience, but we ended up on the floor and—”

  “Fine, point taken.”

  “King-sized bed.”

  “Queen,” she counters.

  “I’m buying you a—”

  “No you’re not.”

  “It’s a fucking safety hazard, and if you plan on me being in here again, I’m buying a damn bed.”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “Fine, then you’ll wear a helmet.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  We stare into each other’s eyes, determined not to cave, and then she smiles and shakes her head. “I’ll buy a queen bed next week.”

  “Not if it’s gonna make you short. It’s a gift, Hailey.”

  “No, end of—”

  “Stubborn little momma.”

  “Independent,” she corrects me again.

  “Sexy as hell.” I crash my mouth against hers, ravaging her sweet little mouth. Her body goes limp against me as she moans, and I pull back. “I need to get out of here before little chick wakes up.”

  She stands up and pulls her shirt on, then slips into her sweats and follows me to the door.

  “I wanna take you out on a date. Can I have my balls back long enough to do that?”

  She grins, and it is blinding and beautiful. Even better, there is no tough exterior up for her to hide behind, so I get to see it.

  “Little momma, you keep looking at me like that and I’m gonna take you right here. Sunday night. Don’t make any plans. It’s you and me—dinner, movie if you want, make out in the parking lot, and then we’ll end up in the back of the Escalade ’cause I’ll need a taste. After that, you can have my balls back; you feel me?”

  She smiles and nods. No argument, no hesitation.

  “Fuck me! I have to go.” I lean in and take her mouth again, then walk out with a hard-on.

  —

  That evening I pull up to her place, and Livi hops out. “I’ll go get her.”

  Hailey wanted to wait until bedtime for our date, and I couldn’t blame her one bit. Besides, Livi was eager to come over and take care of little chick. Hendrix is gonna meet her here when he closes the bar, which is abso-fucking-lutely perfect. That means I can walk Hailey in and stay for a while.

  Tonight, I have my balls back, and I am hoping to walk out with ’em still in my possession.

  I hop out of my vehicle when I see her walk out. She isn’t wearing black today, but a light yellow maxiskirt and white blouse.

  “The gentleman-like thing to say is ‘You look absolutely amazing,’ because you do. Never in my life have I seen something so beautiful. But I am also wondering if you realize I am gonna be sporting wood all night.”

  She leans forward and kisses me hard, her tongue pressing lightly against my lips, and I open to her. I let her get a taste, and then I take mine. When I have no breath left in me, I regretfully pull away, leaving my forehead against hers.

  “Christ, little momma,” I groan, then pull back, open the door, grab the flowers, and hand them to her. “I hope you like roses.”

  “Holy shit, Morrison! That’s a lot of flowers! They cost too much; take them back.”

  “I have my balls back tonight”—I open the door wider—“even tho
ugh you tried to steal them just now.” I grab myself. “Yep, still there. Oh, just so you know, there are no thorns on them. I snipped them off myself. Don’t worry, though—their beauty is still protected. Safe with me, safe with you, safe—”

  “Okay.” She swallows hard and looks down at them. “They’re beautiful.”

  “Not nearly as beautiful as you.” I adjust myself. “Christ.”

  I shut the door and see her smiling, beaming, as she smells them.

  I hop in, buckle up, start the vehicle, and look over at her again. “At dinner, you’ll have to sit across from me, not beside me, ’cause I can’t promise to keep my damn hands to myself.”

  She looks up from the flowers, covers her face, and laughs. “Thank you for the flowers.”

  I reach over and grab her hand, bringing it to my mouth and kissing it. Her skin is soft and smells good. I can’t help myself—I give it a lick. When she doesn’t pull it away, I give it another.

  She pulls my hand to her mouth and returns the kiss. Then she leans back in her seat and lets out a slow, long breath.

  She’s relaxed. Fuck, she even seems to be enjoying herself. And I am…fucking hard.

  “Mind if I show you something before we go to the restaurant?”

  “Sure.”

  “Trust me?”

  She opens her eyes and looks at me, “Yes. Yes, I do.”

  “Mouth. Please.”

  After a nice, slow dance in her mouth, I sit back, feeling damn good. Real damn good. Never fucking better, actually.

  I pull the car up in front of the four-story building and throw it in park.

  She looks out the window, then back at me. “Is this what you wanted to show me?”

  “Yep.” I open the door, hop out, and open hers. “Come with me?”

  “Sure…”

  We walk down the alley between the two buildings. Behind is a parking lot with a small garage, and beyond that is a large yard with a fence surrounding both sides and the back. It’s bigger than most in the city.

  “I’m pretty certain I’m gonna buy this place.”