For You

by Kristen Ashley

“What is it?” I asked.

  “Robbery,” he answered, hit a button and put the phone to his ear.

  I settled back into him, resting my head on his shoulder and draping my arm around his stomach, mumbling, “Bummer.”

  I was half asleep when he flipped his phone closed, moved and then I heard buttons being pressed.

  I slid my cheek along his skin to look up at him as he put the phone to his ear.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Your Dad’s not pickin’ up, phone’s probably not close or he’s out,” Colt replied then he said, “Darryl?”

  I got back up on my elbow and stared at him.

  “Yeah, listen, I gotta go out on a call and Jack’s not answering. Morrie closed and I know you’re just in too but they need a break from this business and someone’s gotta look after Feb. You think Phy would be cool with you comin’ over and crashin’ on my couch for a few hours?” Colt paused and I not only wondered what the answer would be but also when Darryl had been added onto Colt’s Person Who I Trust to Protect Feb List.

  Phylenda, Darryl’s wife, was a good woman, a strong one and chock full of attitude. She had to be, she knew anytime her man could fall off the wagon, do something stupid and, with a strike three, be gone for a good long time so she’d be responsible for taking care of two kids who lived with the knowledge that their Dad was in prison again. She knew this because she’d done it before.

  She didn’t come into the bar much because their kids were seven and nine and couldn’t come with her. Not to mention she had a full-time job too and, with Darryl’s hours, did most of the child rearing. And lastly, she didn’t have people close to help out and she tended to keep herself to herself. Though I saw her, just not often. We closed the bar annually for a staff Christmas party where family was invited and we gave out bonuses to Darryl, Ruthie and Fritzi. At the Christmas party, as a grand finale, Morrie disappeared (Dad used to do this) and came out as Santa Claus and gave all their kids gifts, or, in Fritzi’s case, her grandkids. We’d also close when we had our summer barbeque for close friends and the staff was always there. Dad did it for years and Morrie carried on the tradition. Not to mention, I was one of the few people Phy would let watch her kids. Not that I did it often, sometimes when Darryl got his shit together and took her out and other times when she’d had enough and needed to go by herself to a movie.

  I understood her and I liked her. She liked me back and there were not many of those kinds of folks on her list so I’d always felt honored by it. Still, I wasn’t sure she’d want Darryl to get pulled into this shit.

  “Thanks, Darryl, see you soon.”

  There it was. Phy didn’t mind Darryl being pulled into this shit. Another indication about how they both felt about me.

  “Hope the bar keeps this turnover,” I said to Colt as he flipped shut what I saw now was my phone likely because he didn’t have Darryl programmed into his. “I’m thinkin’ bonuses should be a lot bigger this year.”

  Colt didn’t answer. He just curled up, taking me with him then he twisted and put me down on my back.

  Then he touched his lips to mine and said, “Go back to sleep, Feb. I won’t leave before Darryl gets here but, when I do, I’ll be gone awhile.”

  My hand aimed at his neck, I had good aim luckily so my fingers curled around it before I whispered, “Okay.”

  He touched his lips to mine again then moved to pull away. I dropped my hand before he twisted back and looked down at me.

  He didn’t say anything so I asked, “What?”

  “This happens a lot, honey, crime doesn’t occur just nine to five.”

  I felt what he was saying to me like each word wrapped around me, twining me in velvet lined rope.

  He was telling me my future, what it’ll be like, me being in his life.

  God, I hoped that rope never dropped away.

  “Bars aren’t open just nine to five either, Alec,” I said quietly.

  I watched his shadowed head nod before he bent and gave me another kiss.

  “We’ll work it out,” he murmured.

  Then he exited the bed and I settled into it. It was just coming up to five in the morning and I was dog tired but I still listened to him moving around, getting dressed, going into the living room. Wilson was following him around, I knew, because Wilson was meowing. It was early for his breakfast but I knew Colt gave it to him because Wilson shut up. I also knew Colt gave it to him probably to shut him up.

  I couldn’t know for sure, but I think I fell asleep smiling.

  * * * * *

  Hours later I was standing at the counter on the kitchen side of Colt’s bar, one of Meems’s coffees half-drunk in front of me, the remains of one of her blueberry muffins to my side. I was wearing a pair of cutoff, faded jeans shorts with a hem so frayed, they should probably be tossed but I’d had them so long, I didn’t have the heart to do it. I put on one of my older Harley tees, also faded, with my shorts and some slouchy socks. The mid-March weather had been a bit on the warmer side than usual but I still had on my socks because I always wore socks or slippers on my feet when I was in comfort mode.

  Jessie was sitting on a stool opposite next to Josie Judd, their own Meems’s detritus in front of them. Chip, Josie’s husband and one of Chip’s workers, Brad, were in the den positioning motion detectors in the corners.

  Jessie had run into Josie at the Coffee House when she was on her way over and had stopped to pick up breakfast for her and me. Josie, being a friend, knowing her husband was working at Colt’s house (and therefore being curious), hooked up with Jessie and came with her. We’d been nattering for half an hour while Chip and Brad put the finishing touches on Colt’s new security system, playing double duty as bodyguards to me. When they got there, Darryl dragged his ass off the couch and went home.

  Through the window I saw Colt head down the walk that ran the front of his house and I was watching the door when he came through it.

  Jessie and Josie twisted on their stools and I straightened, pushing off my forearms which I was resting on the counter. Colt got four, “Hey Colts,” and he returned the greetings but I was giving him the jaw-tilt and not only did his eyes never leave me, he came directly to me.

  I turned to him when he hit the kitchen and got close. Instead of smiling at me, he put a hand to the side of my neck and used it to pull me toward him and up. I went on my toes and he touched his mouth to mine. I heard, straight out, Josie’s loud sigh and I nearly rolled my eyes but that might make Colt do more than a lip touch and I liked Josie, I didn’t want her to expire from delight in Colt’s dining area.

  “You catch ‘em?” I asked when he lifted his head.

  “Baby, I just left the crime scene.”

  “So? I thought you were Superman.”

  He grinned and his grin communicated two things. One, he thought I was funny. Two, he was remembering our conversation last night. I felt warmth hit my cheeks and other more intimate places and found that, two minutes before I was happy for all the company I had. Just then, I wished they’d all go away.

  His fingers at my neck gave me a squeeze and he said, “Gotta hit the shower and get back to the Station.”

  At the thought of Colt in the shower, Josie sighed again, this time louder.

  He let me go, slid a glance across a grinning Jessie and a stars-in-her-eyes Josie and walked out of the kitchen and through the living room. Jessie, Josie and I watched him go. I was concentrating so hard on watching him move, I didn’t note where their eyes were fixed. Personally, I was having trouble deciding where to put my own. Colt was a big guy and there was a lot to see, all of it good. He’d need to walk down a football field for you to have time to get it all in.

  I turned, opened the cupboard, grabbed a mug and poured him some joe before following him with a, “Be back in a sec,” aimed at the girls.

  When I hit the bedroom, Colt was standing by the bed and staring at the large pile of black clothes Jessie had brought over for me to go through in a
n effort to find something respectable to wear to Amy’s funeral. Wilson was curled into a ball in the middle of the pile and he was ignoring Colt and me. It was morning naptime which fed naturally into afternoon naptime after which there was a short period of energy during the evening where sometimes he’d run around the house like a mad cat and others he’d just wander around meowing for no reason before it was time to bed down for the night.

  “They’re Jessie’s,” I told Colt, explaining the pile of clothes and handing him the mug of coffee.

  “She movin’ in too?” Colt asked, eyes still on the clothes, lifting the coffee to his lips but I had stopped breathing.

  What did he mean “too”?

  Was I moving in? Did he want me to move in? Did I want to move in?

  We’d been back together for four days. I thought that was pretty much the definition of “too soon”. Then again, we’d known each other for thirty-nine years and that was undeniably the definition of “about fucking time”.

  “Feb,” Colt called and my body jolted before I focused on him.

  “What?”

  “You were starin’ at me like I’d grown a second head.”

  “Um…” I started then decided to shy away from the subject, “I asked Jessie to bring them over. I only own bar clothes. I don’t have anything to wear to the funeral.”

  “You looked nice in that jeans skirt the other night.”

  “I can’t wear a jeans skirt to a funeral,” I informed him, though I knew this was a wasted effort. Women shouldn’t bother saying things to men about the intricate rules of clothing, such as what was appropriate to wear and when. It wasn’t that men didn’t listen. It was that they were genetically programmed not to process such statements, “And anyway, I bought that to go with you to Costa’s. That’s my Costa’s with Colt Skirt.”

  “You bought it to go to Costa’s?”

  “Well, I didn’t. I sent Jessie on a mission.”

  I was not monitoring what I was saying, I was still freaking out about the “movin’ in too” comment. If I was, I would have never told him I sent Jessie on a mission to buy an outfit for a date with him. It exposed too much.

  He grinned again. This grin communicated two things too. One, he thought I was funny. Two, he knew I liked him, a lot, and he was feeling full of himself.

  “Don’t you need to take a shower?” I asked.

  He kept grinning through the word, “Yeah.”

  I motioned to the bathroom with my head before I started to turn, saying, “Well, there’s crime to be fought, get a move on.”

  I didn’t get to the door before he caught me, pulled me back into his body and bent his head to kiss my neck.

  Then in my ear, he said, “I remember everything about you and I remember all the reasons why I loved you. Never could forget even when I tried.” I sucked in breath, unprepared for this stealth attack, while he went on. “Who knows, baby? We had all that time together, I coulda got used to it, learned to take it for granted.” His arms gave me a squeeze. “Now, that’ll never happen.”

  I felt tears hit my eyes and there were a lot of things I wanted to do. Turn and kiss him. Wrap him in my arms so tight his body would be forced to absorb mine. Rip off his clothes and show him how much I loved him using my hands and my mouth. Or simply tell him I loved him, I had since the moment I set eyes on him and I never stopped.

  Instead of any of these, I warned, “Colt, it’s eight forty-five and I haven’t cried yet today. I got a funeral to go to this afternoon. Don’t spoil my run early.”

  He ignored me.

  “We’ll settle this now,” he said and I braced because I didn’t know what we were settling. It was a good idea to brace because what we were settling rocked my world. “Call your landlord today, tell ‘im you’re givin’ up your lease. You gotta sublet for awhile, fine.”

  “Colt –”

  “Your Dad, Morrie and I’ll get your shit gradually. Spend some time today sorting it and mark the stuff priority that you need over here.”

  “Colt –”

  “I don’t give a shit where you put my stuff, what we’ve got double, what you decide to throw away.”

  Well, that would mean he’d have matching mugs. I’d travelled light for fifteen years but indulged on a killer set of stoneware when I moved home. It cost a whack and I wasn’t home much to use it but I liked knowing I had it.

  I didn’t share this, I said, “Colt –”

  “Just don’t move the jerseys or the Harry’s print.”

  “Colt –”

  “And find some way to lose that fuckin’ picture of flowers your mother put in the second bedroom.”

  “Colt –”

  “It isn’t me or you.”

  He obviously had been so focused on the picture he hadn’t seen the be-flowered sheets and comforter Mom put on the bed or, clearly, the very ruffled dust ruffle. They weren’t me or Colt either, by a long shot.

  “Colt!”

  “What?”

  I turned in his arms and looked up at him. “Are you telling me to move in?”

  “You got a problem with that?”

  This was an excellent question, one to which the only answer was “no” yet, even so, I couldn’t utter that word.

  Instead, I said, “Only people probably gonna use that room are Mom and Dad. She wants to sleep under flowers? What do we care?”

  He smiled again and this smile only communicated one thing and that one thing made the tears prick my eyes again.

  His voice was a lot less pushy and a lot more gentle when he said, “I gotta look at it every day.”

  “Then close the door.”

  His arms grew tighter, pulling me closer, before he whispered, “I’m gonna say this once and let it go.”

  Oh Lord, what now? He was relentless, I couldn’t hack it.

  “I missed you, February.”

  I was right. I couldn’t hack it. The tears I was fighting back slid from my eyes and I felt my body start trembling in his arms.

  “I’ll take those tears this time, seein’ as they’re for me.”

  “Alec –” I whispered.

  He talked over me, his gaze going from my cheeks to my eyes. “Today, you gotta worry about your funeral outfit, packin’ your shit and one more thing.”

  What now?

  He didn’t make me wait. “Feds wanna put us in protective custody. They offered it the other night. I’m puttin’ in the security system which’ll help with peace of mind. They protect us, it’s a guarantee this shit goes away without us feelin’ it. This isn’t a decision I can make, you gotta make it, honey. You wanna go away and wait this out, I’ll be with you. You wanna stay and live your life as normal as you can, I’ll do what I can to protect you.”

  “Colt –”

  “Take the day and tell me tonight.”

  As what was going on finally permeated, I tipped my head to the side and stopped crying before I asked, “Is this entire conversation gonna be one-sided or are you gonna let me speak?”

  “I gotta get this out and get to the Station. You speakin’ means the first one will take longer, delayin’ the second one.”

  There was my answer; this conversation was going to be one-sided.

  I decided to communicate non-verbally which I did, by glaring at him. He read it, it bothered him not even a little bit and I knew this because he smiled, gave me a squeeze and dropped his arms.

  Then I found myself pissed that he’d just told me I was moving in with him, pretty much told me he still loved me, definitely told me he missed me and then he just let me go without kissing me.

  “That’s it?” I asked as he shrugged off his blazer and threw it on the bed.

  He turned his head to look at me as he pulled the badge off his belt. “What’s it?”

  I looked at the ceiling and asked it, “Is it me, or was that just a momentous occasion?”

  The ceiling had no answer but Colt chuckled and I glared at him again while he tossed his shoulder ho
lster on his blazer.

  “Did you ask Jessie to get muffin for me?” he asked.

  I blinked, stupefied at the change of subject.

  “Yes,” I replied and of course I did. I had no idea when he would be home but I knew he’d eventually be home and Jessie was going to Meems’s. No one missed out on Mimi’s muffins if they could help it. It was a crime against nature.

  “Blueberry?” he asked.

  Mimi made a lot of different muffins but the way she made her blueberry ones, with the crunchy sprinkles on top, made them the only way to go.

  “Yeah,” I said.

  “Split it in half, baby, butter it and nuke it. I’ll be out in a minute.”

  I watched, frozen, as he moved to collect the coffee cup he’d put on my nightstand before he’d grabbed me earlier. He took a sip, his golden eyes on me over the rim then put it back down.

  “Feb. Muffin?”

  I came out of my deep freeze with a jerk and asked, “What am I? Your waitress?”

  “Honey, last night, the least I earned was an omelet and you know it,” he said as he started to unbutton his shirt. “This mornin’, you can butter and nuke a muffin for me.”

  This was, unfortunately, true. My Omelet a la Feb was awesome. Though it was more that he earned a waffle. My waffles were killer. The orgasm last night he’d given me while holding me up and pinned against the wall – definitely waffle material. I could butter and nuke a muffin for him.

  Even so, I turned to the door, muttering, “I’m rethinking breakfast payback.”

  I was two feet away from the door before his arm came around me again, I saw his other arm shoot out then I saw the door slam shut then I was turned and my body slammed against it. I lifted my chin to look at him and, a half a second later, Colt’s mouth was on mine.

  In the seconds I could think clearly before the kiss took all my concentration, I knew he’d been fucking with me. That kiss was wet, hard, long and involved a goodly deal of hand exploration, both his and mine (his, mostly at my ass, mine, the same on his ass). It was the kind of kiss you had to celebrate a momentous occasion. It was the kind of kiss you never forgot your whole life.

  When he broke the connection of our mouths, he rested his forehead to mine and whispered, “I’ll look forward to you making my house ours, Feb.”