Mugs of Love

by Norma Jeanne Karlsson

  “Called in an anonymous tip to the sheriff and the FBI about a prostitution ring in Bluffside. Sheriff picked up Warren Senior and old man Donovan right before you got here. Sarah got picked up too. That should wrap all this shit up,” Devlin explains, rubbing his dark stubble.

  “Never thought I’d have kids. Met Jenna and knew I wanted her, but didn’t know if I could do the kid thing. Whether you meant to or not, you gave me that shit. I owe you. No markers. No bullshit. I’m at your back…always.” He shakes my hand not bothered by the blood covering it.

  “I’ll send Zero down in a few,” Devlin says through a smirk before leaving the basement.

  “You ever wonder why I work in Em’s shop?” Jordan asks, passing me a lit smoke.

  I nod.

  “When my old man got popped, it fucked with me. I made a call that night. A bad call and wasn’t with him. Felt like it was my fault. Still do…” he trails off. “Anyway, I was downtown one afternoon just takin’ a break from shit. Tryin’ to clear my head after a ride did nothin’ for me. I walked past Em’s window and looked inside to see her, scrambling around, talking with people and the biggest fuckin’ smile on her face.

  “That shit warmed the center of my dead soul. I strolled into her shop and offered to help. She took two seconds to consider it and threw herself into my arms, thanking me. That’s all it took. She had me. I know you get that shit with her. Not like everyone else who meets her and just wants to know her because she’s that kinda person. She makes you feel somethin’ you’ve never had.

  “You gotta know, you do that for her too. She’s always been light, but since you’ve been with her, she’s fuckin’ blinding. Thank you for that. I feel like shit for not noticing anything was missing from her, but now that I see her in full bloom…I can’t get enough. So, you’ve done somethin’ good for me too. I know you got fucked over in the past. That won’t happen here, Garrett. It won’t happen with me. I’ve got you,” Jordan says fiercely, tugging me in for a back slap.

  “All right, now that I’ve got blood on me I don’t feel like such a little bitch after that. Let’s go clean up and get home to your woman. I brought earplugs,” he snarks.

  I snort at him before breaking into a chuckle as he wiggles his eyebrows at me.

  Even though I’m covered in filth, I feel cleansed to my soul. I’m free to live my life now. A good life. The best life.

  I slide into bed next to Emily after my second shower, dragging her body carefully to mine.

  “Hey,” she rasps, tilting her head up from my chest to peer into my eyes.

  Her golden greens sparkle with love as her cheek creases and her lips tip in a lazy smile.

  “He’ll never hurt you again,” I speak the first full sentence I’ve uttered to her in weeks.

  Emily’s breath catches in her throat and she starts to ask a million questions, but I cut her off.

  “I’m not gonna tell you what happened. You don’t need to know. It wasn’t good. But know that what I did, I did because I love you and I need you safe. And you’re safe now, Sugar. Always fuckin’ will be.”

  “I like it when you talk,” she says quietly.

  “I like it when you ramble,” I retort, kissing her nose.

  “Are you okay?” she whispers, with a concerned look on her face.

  “Never been better,” I assure her before flipping her to her back, mindful of her leg.

  I take her mouth before she knows I’m coming for her. My tongue plunges between her lips, tasting every inch of her as my hands glide my T-shirt off her body.

  I trail my lips down her neck, happy to feel she’s not wearing panties as my dick bobs at her entrance.

  “Now, Garrett. I need you now,” she pleads as I nip her birthmark.

  I won’t make her wait. I need her as much as she needs me if not more.

  I palm my dick and guide it inside her, relishing every inch I sink in. She moans and arches her back as I bottom out, pausing for her to adjust. Emily doesn’t want that so she yanks my hair, forcing my mouth to hers. She kisses me passionately as I begin to thrust, long, slow strokes.

  Emily clings to my shoulders as I cup her cheeks, doing my best to convey how much I feel. Not just for her though. How much I feel because of her. That I can love now. That I can feel now. I’ll never be an emotional man. I’ll still grunt more than speak. I’ll still growl more often than not. But I’ll feel all the time because Emily brought me to life.

  I pick up my pace when Emily rips her mouth from mine needing to breathe. Dropping my head to her neck, I wrap her good leg around my waist before sliding an arm behind the small of her back, tipping her up so I can drive deeper.

  I want to crawl inside her. This will have to do.

  Emily’s nails score my back as her orgasm rips through her, my name chanting from her lips. I don’t relent. I keep thrusting into her, showing her, giving her everything. I can’t stop. I’ll never stop.

  “Marry me,” I growl into her skin as I halt my movements to look into her eyes.

  I don’t know what I expect to find gazing at me, but the look of bliss and love rocks me.

  “Yes,” Emily says through a blinding smile.

  I take her mouth in a possessive kiss, grinding into her. That’s all I need. I have it all now. Everything is right in the world.

  When I finally let Emily fall asleep as the sun begins to rise, I hold her against my inked chest, gazing down at the words that mean so much to me. Time is an illusion. I live an entire lifetime of good every breath I take with Emily. I’ll cherish every moment. Every breath. Every ounce of warmth. And when my clock runs out, I’ll know that I’ve had more time than anyone has ever lived.

  I’ll be happy.

  “A latte please,” the young woman answers when I ask her what she’d like. In a pretty pale blue flower-printed sundress, she fidgets with the hem glancing out the picture window.

  “I’ll bring it right over to you,” I say through a broad smile.

  As she takes her seat at the date table, a strapping Hunter Devlin strides through my door. His ebony hair messy from his helmet in the best way. He winks at his date before sauntering over to me.

  “Hey, Em,” he greets me, leaning over the counter to kiss my cheek.

  “Usual?” I ask and he nods. “She’s pretty.”

  “They all are,” he snarks.

  I roll my eyes at him before turning to pull my shots of espresso for their drinks. Jordan comes out of the kitchen and talks to Hunter for a bit. I give Hunter the biggest heart I can form in his mug and a tulip for his date. He has a lot of dates, but I get the feeling this one’s different by the way he keeps checking on her over his shoulder as he chats with Jordan.

  Another young woman gets attention like that from Hunter. Alyssa. He watches over her almost as closely as Caleb does. It’s a good thing she has Jenna to make the men back off when necessary, but I can see how much comfort it brings Alyssa to have more than just Hunter looking out for her. Even if it drives her crazy.

  Once Sarah went to prison for her involvement in the prostitution ring, Jenna bought Tailored and turned it into a trendy, stylish boutique.

  The Devlin family is a happy one.

  My suspicions are raised even higher about Hunter’s date when he carries their mugs to the date table with the slightest tremor in his hands. He’s nervous.

  “Sap,” Jordan teases, nudging my shoulder.

  “Grump,” I retort.

  We both chuckle until my favorite sight passes by the window.

  My husband carrying our daughter on his hip, beaming a giant smile down at her as he walks in my shop. I press a hand to my large belly as my stomach fills with flutters. Every time. It doesn’t matter how many times I see him or Amelia, my insides fill with heat and happiness. And when it does, my son wiggles right along with my emotions.

  “Momma,” Amelia squeals as soon as she spots me.

  “Hey, Ladybug,” I coo, reaching out for her.

  Ga
rrett passes her over the counter after pressing his lips to mine.

  “Unkie Jowdan, Daddy show me da oil pan!”

  “Did you like that, Bug?” Jordan asks before snatching my daughter from my arms to go fill her full of sweets in the kitchen. He spoils her worse than anyone else, and that’s saying something with my dad, Arlene, Beverly and Clyde around.

  Don’t get me started on Cody with her. He may not have wanted a niece, but the instant he got one, she had him wrapped around her little finger. He’ll do anything for her. Everything.

  Being away at college this year has been a challenge for him. He comes home often and calls all the time, but it’s been good for him to get away from Bluffside. Cody’s grown into a man. A genuinely good man who I’m so proud to know and love.

  Amelia lets out a squeal of delight as Jordan surely gives her a cupcake.

  I peak over Garrett’s shoulder and spy Hunter holding his date’s hand, a sweet smile on both their lips. There’s that tingle. Mugs of love doing their work.

  “Love that smile, Sugar,” Garrett purrs, rounding the counter before devouring my mouth, not caring I have a shop full of customers.

  When he sets me back, he leans his forehead against mine and whispers, “Fell in love with that smile from across the street. It’s so much fuckin’ better in person.”

  I beam at him and bury my head against his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heart. I have my own mugs of love every morning with Garrett. I sit across the table from him and smile bigger and happier than I do when I feel the date tingle. Because I feel it for myself. I feel the warmth of love down to my bones with the man who stole my heart from across the street.

  My mug will never be empty.

  It’s been just shy of a year since I published my first novel. In that time I’ve created amazing relationships that have made this time in my life more rewarding than I ever considered possible.

  To my husband. The supportive rock who always has my back with love and attentiveness softening the most difficult situations. You fill my mug endlessly.

  To my children. You are the most fulfilling pieces of my life. Nothing brings me light like the three of you.

  To my mother. Tears of laughter are the cleansing wash my soul thanks you for every day. Only you can make my face hurt with hilarity.

  To my brother. Thank you for taking the time to answer my questions throughout this novel. We may be polar opposites in life, but we’re twins when it comes to how much we love each other.

  To Chris. This book is for you. I can write about friendships built on loyalty and love because you taught me that relationships like that exist.

  To Amanda. The missing part of my unattained girly side. I can’t thank you enough for your guidance and support.

  To Ellie. The magic wand to my inarticulate creative needs. Thank you for always listening.

  To Ruth. My slice of sanity on my foreign island. Without you and your kind words, the dark and dreary surroundings would swallow me whole.

  To my street team. The Karlsson Klan has always championed me without question and with fervor from the start. Thank you all for your time and voices.

  To the bloggers and reviewers. This indie author thing can be a struggle. I’m humbled that you all have taken chances on me.

  To the readers. At the end of the day, this is all about you. I tell stories hoping that they will touch you the way they touch me. Thank you for picking up my work. May you each find your own mug of love and never let it be empty.

  Escaping the Blackness

  A Cooper Brothers Novel

  January 2015

  Misunderstood Miracles

  A Paranormal Romance with an edge

  Winter 2014/2015

  Blackness Takes Over

  Blackness Awaits

  Shrouded in Blackness

  Into the Blackness

  Blackness Within

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  www.normajeannekarlsson.com

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  Originally from Kansas City, Missouri, Norma Jeanne Karlsson recently found herself relocating to the United Kingdom. Now living in Belfast, she took hold of the opportunity to kick the 9-5 job for a chance to become an author. The best part: working from her home office, she gets to spend more time with her cast of crazy characters (written and real).

  In her free time Norma Jeanne is a voracious reader and consumes books as readily as meals. She is a people watcher by nature and uses her experiences in life, observed or otherwise, to build the worlds and characters that thrive in her books. A believer in the strength of the human spirit, Norma Jeanne writes the stories of people that persevere when all appears to be lost.