“Don’t, I’ll get you all messy.”
“Baby, wha—? Oh,” he murmurs when I shuffle down and to my feet, and he sees the real story. “What do you need? Make a list and I’ll run out and get it for you while you have a hot bath. Should I call Lenny and get you something for the pain?”
He sounds so earnest and unfazed that I start crying like a loon. How sweet is this guy? Is he even for real right now? He must be, because he pulls me into his chest without so much as a care for the mess all over me and the towel and starts rubbing my lower back while crooning to me.
“Th-this is s-s-so embarrassing. I felt it last night, but I was so tired I didn’t think and now, now I’m a mess and the bed is a mess and…and—”
“And it’s nothing I can’t fix, Peaches. Come on now, you think we can get married and live together and I’ll never notice this? It’s natural; it happens every month; and I’d have to be a total asshole not to care when you’re in pain and uncomfortable. And it’s not gross. I don’t hear you saying that about me when I cut my toenails in bed.”
I do giggle then because it drives me crazy, but the man is just so darn cute with the way he glares at his feet and tries to hack them to death, I can’t help it.
Just a few nights ago, I finally said enough is enough and took that situation in hand, showing him how to do it to maximum effect without making him bleed.
Besides, nothing about him is gross to me. I love every part of him, even the weird stuff.
“I-I need some tampons, sanitary pads, and Motrin,” I finally mumble, looking up at him because I can’t just ignore this or how sweet he’s being.
He hasn’t even mentioned that I’m not pregnant, and I know he has to be disappointed. At least a little.
“You get in the bath and I’ll go sort this out.”
“You’re going to buy me feminine products?”
“Fuck no, Peaches, I have balls and pride and a bed to strip and remake. King’s going,” he yells over his shoulder, laughing darkly as he closes the door behind him and yells down the stairs.
My bath is heavenly. It doesn’t relieve all the pain, but I feel a little less like taking a butcher knife to my stomach to fix myself when he opens the door a crack and holds out what I need.
I make quick work of getting myself situated and dressed and walk out to see snowy-white sheets on the bed, and I can hear the washer going in the other room.
“Peaches? You done?” he yells from the kitchen.
I walk out to join him and gape at the counter full of junk. Potato chips, chocolate, every sweet imaginable is there, and he seems to be inspecting them like he knows what he’s reading.
“What is all this?”
“Lenny said y’all eat this junk to feel better when you’re, you know. I told King to go wild since he needed something to hide your things beneath in the shopping cart.
“You’re such an evil man. King must have been so embarrassed,” I mutter, going over to inspect his haul.
“Nah, he used to be married once upon an age ago. It was like the shortest marriage in history but long enough that he gets what this is like. He was cool. He even got you one of those water bottle thingies, though I can’t advise it in this heat, baby, you’d likely pass out from heat stroke or something.”
“Silly. That’s from the sun, and yes, I likely will use it at some point, seeing as my temperature goes all wonky at this time. Right now, I feel like I’m on fire, but it could change on a dime.”
“That’s bullshit! Pain and discomfort and all that other shit too? How do you do this every month?” he snarls, making me giggle.
The man is a bear, and it seems he does not like me being unhappy. I could so get used to this, and I guess I’ll have to since I’m with him for life. Yay me!
“I’m used to it. I usually take enough pills to stock a small drugstore and try not to kill anyone when I have to drive. Last month, I was helping the Swinsons plant their garden when it happened. That was bad. All that bending did not help my hips or back. Five days of it was hell, I’ll tell ya.”
“Five days! You’ll bleed to death. Jesus, I’m calling Lenny. She has to know how to fix this,” he yells, making me laugh so hard I lose my legs and fall against the wall, boneless with mirth.
“It’s not funny.”
“It is!” I chortle, hiccupping to get myself back under control. “It’s normal. I swear.”
He looks green though, and I really laugh when he picks me up and carries me to bed, refusing to let me out while I’m “incapacitated.” Gosh, the man is a riot. I shouldn’t laugh at him though, I know, because from his reaction he’s never experienced anything of this nature before.
It’s funny though, because he acts as if the world should just stop while he waits to see if I’m going to succumb!
“Stop laughing.”
“I can’t help it, Jericho, you’re hilarious!” I snuffle, lying back against the pillows as he pulls the covers over me and storms away, coming back with the pills and a glass of water.
“Peaches.”
I swallow them down, replace the glass, and pull him down beside me.
“Listen. I’ve been living with this since I was thirteen years old. It’s fine. I hurt a bit more than some women do, true, but the pills help as does sleep when the headaches hit. I’m fine. I’m laughing because you’re as out of your depth as I am and it makes me feel better.”
“Explain.”
“Well, my mama died when I was little, and Lydia was not all that comfortable with it either. She picked me up from school when it happened, shoved pads and this old book at me, and told me that I’m a woman now. This sort of thing has always been a very private thing for me. Living with you, well, I know that I have to get over my shyness about these things, but it’s hard for me. I’m thankful that you care, I am, but it’s normal for me and I won’t die. It may hurt; I’ll be moody from pain and fatigue, but I’ll get over it. If you can handle my moods, we’ll be just fine,” I say, stroking his cheek.
“I don’t like you hurting when I can’t do anything about it. I feel helpless.”
“You just did more for me than anyone ever has and I love that. That’s all I need. Now, what say you go get those chips and chocolate and we veg out while I wait for the pills to kick in?”
He jumps to and I feel blessed when he pulls his shirt off, gets comfortable, and pulls me close like I’m not carrying the plague.
“What’s your speed, Peaches?”
You, I think dreamily as he starts flipping through the playlist. God, how I love this man. He’s shown me more love and care, more tenderness than anyone ever has since my mama died and left me alone with Daddy.
I love the man dearly, I do, but he’s about as warm as an iceberg. This here, what I have now—despite the discomfort I feel sharing this private time—this is everything I didn’t know could exist for me.
Screw this town. Damn every last one of them if they don’t like him or think we belong. I feel him in every part of me, and I know we’re perfect for each other.
He’s my hope, and I pray that I can be his, too.
***
Jericho
When the pills King got from Jill finally take effect and knock Cleo out, I mute the TV and slide off the bed slowly, tucking her in tightly despite the heat because, true to her word, she started shivering just minutes after swearing she was burning to death.
I don’t like this, and yeah, I get that I’m overreacting a little and that it’s a natural, normal occurrence for all women. But this woman, she’s mine, and I hate seeing her ashamed of her body and in pain.
If I didn’t understand why she wants to wait to have children, I swear I would knock her up constantly just to keep her from this shit. Sure, the birth may be painful, but that’s one day after months of no bleeding.
I’m a man. I admit that the thought of that stuff happening to her vagina—yeah, I can’t say pussy anymore since Cleo took exception to it—the thought
of it freaks me out a lot.
It’s a little nasty, not because of anything but the fact that I love that part of her and I don’t want it bleeding. Sue me if that’s bastardly, I don’t care. To me, she’s perfect in every way. I just don’t like knowing that her body is so against her for five long days wherein I can’t touch what is mine.
After checking on her one last time and seeing that her temperature is normal, I do a check on the windows I nailed shut from the inside and double check the door before going down and padlocking the door that joins with the back and the stairway.
“Cleo okay?”
“Knocked out a few minutes ago without any pain. Tell Len I say thanks for that. Jesus, I hate this. She’s sick with that shit,” I mutter, falling into the booth across from King, as Josh hands me a beer and goes back behind the bar to gab with Rusty, his favorite regular.
“It’s unavoidable, unfortunately. Now, let’s change the subject to spare her further embarrassment, shall we? I hardly think she appreciates me knowing about her…her time,” he mutters.
“Yeah. She thanks you by the way. She also laughed her ass off at me for my reaction. Now, onto other things. I’ve been giving this some thought since Storm called yesterday and told me our schedules are filling up. I’m set to fly up north in two weeks to transport that high-risk witness the DA in New Orleans is bringing in to testify.”
“Uh-huh, go on.”
“Well, I was thinking we’ve been looking at this as someone holding a grudge against her when really that isn’t the slightest bit possible, and we all know it. These townsfolk may look down on her for whatever fucked-up reason, but they know she’s a peach. I don’t see them meaning her harm and most just go as far as saying nasty shit, even that Ginger woman. Cleo practically manhandled her, and she didn’t so much as lift a finger against her.”
King cocks his head and thinks that over before nodding.
“That’s true. They may not like her, but none of them seem to mean her harm. What were you thinking on that?”
“I’m thinking it’s something else. Maybe someone wants her gone for some reason. We’ve already played around with the idea that it’s one of her father’s cronies using her to punish him. It seems unlikely, but it may hold some water.”
King strokes his chin in thought, and I lean back, constantly eyeing the back door in case someone, somehow, gets through the locks. It’s unlikely with what I’m using to keep it closed, but shit happens all the time, and after the day that asshole crawled past my security and into that window, I’m not about to take any chances.
Cleo is up there, passed out and defenseless. I won’t let anything come at her when she’s that vulnerable.
“Okay. I’ll call Lex and Blaze in. They’re headed this way tomorrow to keep an eye on Lenny when Storm leaves for the job on Monday. I’ll get Blaze to ask around subtly, and Lex can look into the father again. One thing about all this is bugging me though, and try as I might I still can’t figure why no one likes her. She was too meek before, I do get that, and some people find that unforgivable—unlike me, who likes a soft-spoken sweetheart like Cleo. My point is that it’s strange how they all don’t like her. She’s sweet and helpful and always has a kind word for everyone. Shouldn’t those assholes at least love her? She is so fucking adorable as it is that I find it hard to fathom anyone not loving her.”
Me either. The thing about Cleo, at least what got me from that first look, is that she shines with her goodness. She may have found a voice just recently, but the woman is good inside, as proven by the Ginger incident.
“I can’t get it either, man. I mean the Ginger thing? She came home and cried in the shower when she thought I couldn’t hear. It took damn near all night for me to distract her from it.”
“TMI. But I suspected as much from her moping after the kids left. She’s so soft man. Too soft for this place.”
“She loves it here though. As do I, so I guess we’ll just have to find this fucker and then start cleaning this town up so my Peach can be happy.”
“Amen to that. I’ll bring the body bags.”
I grin and toast him.
Yeah, amen to that.
Chapter Fifteen
Jericho
Five days. Five days of absolute misery, walking on eggshells around my little demon, when that mood she spoke about finally reared its head and she started looking at me in a way that outright scared me.
I swear, I slept with one eye open those nights when I’d come home to her and catch her glaring at me in a way that hinted at dark thoughts I do now want to know anything about.
And now this morning, poof, all gone. The woman woke with a stretch and a smile and practically bounced out of bed with new vigor as if she hadn’t threatened to scalp me just hours before.
Whatever, I’m just glad I get the next twenty-eight days to sleep peacefully before it happens again.
“Babe? Do you want waffles or pancakes!” she yells from the kitchen, just as I pull my shirt on and zip up my jeans.
See what I’m talking about? Yesterday, she wouldn’t have given me so much as a smile, and this morning she’s cooking me breakfast and humming under her breath while shaking her ass in front of the stove.
“Uh, pancakes?” I venture hesitantly just in case the demon living inside her hasn’t been exorcised yet.
She giggles and gives me a high five before going back to it with a joy that I don’t quite trust fully yet. Don’t roll your eyes. This woman is evil, EVIL, when that shit is in the process of going down, and I am quite frankly frightened of her.
I do not even want to think about next month. Pray, Jesus, I can wrap this up before I have to leave because I’m pretty sure I will have to. That or sleep in another room with the door locked, just in case.
“So, uh, you okay?”
She smiles knowingly at me and nods.
“Tonight, buster.”
“Tonight?” I ask, swallowing as she starts plating pancakes, waffles, and the eggs I can’t go without no matter how she complains about cholesterol.
“Yes, tonight. You telling me you haven’t been waiting for sex?”
Well, honestly? After the hell demon came forth, I haven’t thought about a damn thing but staying out of her way. Sex, while it was always there in the back of my mind, kind of just took a backseat to her and what she needed while still keeping my skin intact.
I am happy about this though, because no sooner are the words out of her mouth than my dick goes hard and I feel like throwing her down and gorging myself.
Not touching her sexually for days sucks ass. If I could, I would live inside this woman twenty-four seven and only let her off my dick to eat and use the toilet.
I’m not kidding. I feel as if a part of me has been missing since she declared a ban on touching with this period thing. Me, personally, I would have dry humped us both to heaven if she’d let me—I have no boundaries you know!
But she’s nuts about cleanliness, and she’s shy, so I let it go. And then I didn’t want to because she was plain mean at one point. I’m still trying to convince myself she didn’t mean to call me a dickless asshole.
I’ll get there eventually. I hope. At least by tonight, because I need to make love to her without performance anxiety.
“Tonight, Peaches,” I growl, giving her the eye that set her to giggling and blushing like crazy.
We both eat in silence, me checking my messages while Cleo does the crossword puzzle over her morning cup of tea. We both clean up and fill the dishwasher, and I’m feeling great as I walk her to the truck and see King coming our way for the day’s babysitting.
“Yo, wait up, man. Hey Cleo, looking good, sexy lady.”
“Shut your mouth and spit it out,” I growl, as I lift Cleo into the backseat and strap her in.
“Huh? Good morning to you too, shithead. Storm called, and he needs you up at his place by nine to check out some of the specs on that job he’s doing. And don’t worry. I’ll stay with
Cleo and Oak will man the front from the steps.”
I want to laugh at that, and do hear Cleo giggle, because I do not see that happening. More like Oak will be inside with his precious high schoolers shooting the breeze and telling tall tales while King stands out in the blistering sun keeping a look out.
“I can’t—”
“Yes, you can, Evans. King, call Storm and tell him Jericho will be there, eh-eh-eh, no arguing with me now. I get that this is serious. My safety is not something I want to play with now that I’m happy for once in my life. But this is going too far. You have to work, Jericho, and I do not want you giving up what you love because of me.”
“Cleo.”
“Jericho, just stop. I am not asking; I am telling you to stop hovering and do what you have to do. This can’t be our lives forever. I refuse to accept that. You go on to Storm’s place and do what he needs you to do and leave me with King and Oak.”
She’s so damned stubborn as she lifts her chin and throws orders at me that I want to kiss her. I don’t though.
“No.”
Her expression gets hard, and I recognize the mulish tilt to her chin before she swallows and blinks back tears.
“If you don’t do this, Jericho, we can’t go on. Do you understand me? This is ridiculous. You have a life too, besides just looking after me, and I won’t be the reason you lose that part of you that is so important. You go and work, or I will call my father and have him come get me. No, don’t start yelling at me because it won’t change a damn thing. I won’t have this, you hear me? I would rather leave you and be miserable than make you miserable because you can’t make a move without thinking of me. And for that matter, King, you need to take me to see the sheriff. It’s about darn time that man does something to help me instead of sitting on his fat ass or playing golf all day while my tax dollars go wasted.”
Goddammit, I’m so furious with her right now I could shit nails. I want to argue and yell at her for daring to threaten me this way, but she just huffs and folds her arms, her posture and resolute expression letting me know she is deadly serious. She’d do it too, the little vixen, and for some reason, as pissed as I am, I am also so touched I want to hug her and kiss those pink lips.
THE WATCHERS: 6 Military Romance Bundle Page 27