For You

by Kristen Ashley

  “You two are close.”

  “Yeah, close enough for him to be in the wedding party. Shit, Morrie, you’re gonna be my fuckin’ brother-in-law.”

  Morrie’s head jerked as this knowledge dawned on him then he grinned. “Yeah.”

  “And you’ve been my best friend since I was five.”

  Morrie’s grin got bigger. “Yeah again.”

  “So don’t fuck with me.”

  “Dude, be cool,” Morrie said, still grinning.

  Colt shook his head and rapped his knuckles on the bar, moving to leave. “Gotta go.”

  “Colt, wait,” Morrie called, Colt stopped and turned to his friend, “I’m happy for you.”

  Colt nodded and smiled. “Thanks, man.”

  “I’m happier for her,” Morrie said quietly and Colt felt his neck twist.

  “Right.”

  “Thank you for bringin’ her back.”

  “Morrie.”

  “I missed her, man.”

  “Morrie.”

  “Dad did too.”

  “Stop, Morrie.”

  “Dude, just sayin’ –”

  Colt cut him off and put an end to that particular conversation. “You’re welcome.”

  Morrie nodded then declared, “If you don’t play ‘Mony Mony’ at the reception, I’m boycotting.”

  Colt moved to leave, shaking his head again. “I’ll make note of that.”

  “And ‘Shout’,” Morrie yelled at Colt’s back, Colt lifted a hand a flicked out his fingers, “and ‘Livin’ on a Prayer’,” Morrie went on and Colt stopped and turned to him.

  “It’s a wedding reception, Morrie, not a fuckin’ 80’s flashback.”

  Morrie’s eyes swept the bar and when they hit Colt he was grinning again.

  Colt reckoned about fifty cell phones were now being dialed. He was still shaking his head when he walked out the front door and he didn’t care that news was right then sweeping town, not at all.

  * * * * *

  Colt sat on the top of picnic table at Arbuckle Acres Park, his feet on the bench and he watched his mother walk up to him, as always, clutching her purse.

  When she got close, he called, “Hey Ma.”

  Her smile was small and hesitant, as always, when she replied, “Hey Alec.”

  He watched as she sat on the bench by his feet, her eyes to the ground.

  “How’re you gettin’ on?” he asked her and her head came up but her hand never quit clutching the strap on her purse.

  “Where’s Feb?” she asked back instead of answering.

  “Don’t know. She’s been kind of busy.”

  Her eyes slid to look over his shoulder and she muttered, “She usually comes with you.”

  “I needed to talk to you alone today.”

  Her eyes slid back to his and then skidded over his shoulder.

  “Everything okay?” she asked the sky over his shoulder.

  “Everything’s good.”

  “Feb okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  “The family?”

  “We’re all fine, Ma.”

  She nodded then looked back at the ground. “Your Dad’s home.”

  “You told me that last time, Ma.”

  “He’s doin’ good, stayin’ sober, just like me.”

  “Glad to hear it,” Colt said and he was, at least he was glad to hear it about her.

  “He said he wants you to think about lettin’ him come, next time you call.”

  Colt shook his head. “Ma –”

  “Just think, Alec. Next time we talk then you can tell me, okay?”

  Colt kept shaking his head. “Don’t want you to get your hopes up.”

  She looked at him and said, “Talk to Feb about it.”

  “Ma –”

  “Just promise me you’ll talk to Feb, please, Alec?”

  Colt looked at his mother. Two months ago, Mary Colton had helped to save three lives, one was precious to him and the other two, in one way or another, meaningful to him though Melanie more so. There were a few very unlikely heroes in that town, Darryl was one of them, Mary Colton another. But both changed their earned reputations proving that deep down they had something that made those reputations false.

  For that reason, he said, “I’ll talk to Feb but, you should know, even if I do, the answer is unlikely to change.”

  “I know,” she whispered and her eyes yet again slid away.

  “I’m askin’ her to marry me,” Colt told her and her gaze shot right back.

  She was still whispering when she asked, “What?”

  “Tonight.”

  “Oh my God,” she breathed and her hand came to his knee.

  She hadn’t touched him, not since they started to meet there at the park, almost always with Feb bringing coffees and treats from Mimi’s or a packed lunch. It didn’t matter to Feb that it wasn’t 911 that pointed them to Susie’s house, but Colt’s mother, Feb would have come with him anyway if he wanted to meet his mother. But Colt did wonder if she’d bring coffees, baked goods or packed lunches if Mary Colton hadn’t helped to save her life.

  Though, he guessed she would.

  Colt put his hand on his mother’s at his knee, her body jerked and she tried to pull her hand away but his fingers curled around hers holding it tight.

  He caught her eyes and kept her gaze, speaking softly. “I don’t want to hurt you but you gotta know, I’m dancin’ the mother son dance with Jackie.” She closed her eyes and he squeezed her hand until she opened them again then he continued. “But, you stay sober, I want you there. Not him, just you. Yeah?”

  She nodded and he squeezed her hand again.

  “Will you…” her voice was choked, she cleared her throat and her hand jerked in his but he kept his hold firm. She pulled in breath through her nose and asked, “I don’t… well, we both know I don’t deserve that dance but will you dance another dance with me?”

  “Yeah,” Colt replied without hesitation.

  Her hand twitched in his and she repeated, “Yeah?”

  “You stay sober, then, yeah.”

  “I’ll stay sober, son,” she promised.

  “I reckon you will,” he told her and again her hand twitched.

  He’d never believed in her, never.

  Then again she’d never stayed sober this long and she’d never saved Feb’s life so he figured he owed her that.

  She pressed her lips together, sucked in breath through her nostrils, keeping control but just barely then she nodded and she squeezed his hand.

  “You need money?” Colt asked.

  “We’re good,” she said quickly.

  Colt tugged gently on her hand. “Ma, you need money?”

  She pulled in another breath through her nose, shook her head and said softly, “We’re good, honey.”

  “Call me, you do.”

  “Okay.”

  “Maybe next time you can come over to the house, have dinner.”

  He watched her swallow then nod. “I’d like that.”

  He gave her one last squeeze and then let her hand go, pushing up, he jumped off the table and she stood up.

  As he walked beside her to her car, she asked, “Feb a good cook?”

  “Yeah, though she mostly cooks breakfast. Dinner we usually have Frank’s at the bar. Or Reggie’s.”

  “Frank’s a better cook than most everyone I know.”

  “That’s the truth.”

  “And Reggie’s is the best pizza I’ve had in my life and I used to live in Chicago so you know what that means.”

  “I do.”

  She stopped at the driver’s side door and before she could do it Colt leaned in and opened it for her.

  She didn’t get in. She tipped her head back and looked at him.

  “You happy, Colt?”

  He felt his body jerk and he blinked.

  She’d never called him Colt.

  He covered his surprise and the strangely welcome feeling he felt at her calling him b
y what he considered his true name by answering, “Yeah.”

  She nodded. “All a mother can ask,” she put her hand on top of his, his was resting on top of the door, and she dipped her face, looking into the car and muttering under her breath, “love you, son.”

  Then she quickly folded herself into the car and, without looking at him, grabbed the handle, slammed the door, started the car and pulled away. She was ten car lengths away before she got the courage to toot her horn.

  When Colt heard it, he couldn’t bite back his smile.

  * * * * *

  Colt opened the front door, entered and shouted over the loud music, “Baby, I’m home.”

  “Be right out,” he heard Feb’s words coming down the hall.

  Wilson trotted into the room, stopped, looked at Colt and let out a loud meow.

  “Quiet, cat,” he muttered and Wilson replied with a louder meow.

  Colt shrugged off his blazer then his shoulder holster. He hooked the blazer around the back of a dining table chair, threw the holster on the table and then he unclipped his badge and threw that on it too. He hit the kitchen and saw the remote for the stereo sitting by Feb’s cell phone. He picked up the remote, pointed it into the den and turned down the music. Then he looked at her cell phone and was grateful for the music, seeing as she had twelve missed calls, all of them likely about them playing “Livin’ on a Prayer” at their wedding reception, a reception Feb didn’t know about yet. Then Colt went to the cupboard with the cat treats and Wilson let out another loud meow.

  Colt shook the treats into his palm then he threw one into the living room. Wilson watched it go until he lost sight then he ran after it. Colt couldn’t see the cat but he heard another meow and he sent another treat sailing and heard Wilson’s cat feet chasing after it.

  This happened twice more before Feb’s voice came from the hall again.

  “You’re making him fat.”

  She was right. This had come to be Colt and Wilson’s habit when Colt got home and Wilson was getting fat. Feb had put a limit on three treats a night. Colt and Wilson ignored that limit and jacked it up to six. This was mostly because, if Colt didn’t go to six, Wilson wouldn’t shut up.

  “He’s fine,” Colt said, his hand up about to throw another treat before Feb hit the room and he saw her.

  She was wearing a skintight, dark purple dress and a pair of high-heeled, sexy sandals. Her makeup was heavier than normal and nearly as sexy as her shoes. Her hair was partially sleeked but it had more wave and volume than usual and it was far sexier than her shoes. Colt felt the vision of her score a path from his lungs, through his gut, straight to his dick.

  He’d been right. She had something planned tonight and he sure as fuck wasn’t letting her steal his goddamned thunder.

  “That’s quite a dress,” he remarked when he could speak again then Wilson meowed, he threw the cat treat and Wilson’s paws could be heard scampering after it.

  “That’s enough treats,” Feb replied, stopping opposite the dining table and putting her hands to her hips which meant the material at her tits stretched tight and he felt that in his dick too.

  He shook out another treat and sent it sailing.

  “Colt!” Feb snapped

  “Come here,” Colt replied.

  Her eyes went to the microwave and then back to his. “You’re late. It’s six forty-five. We’ve gotta go.”

  Colt put the lid back on the treats and set it on the counter before he repeated, “Come here, Feb.”

  She ignored him and said, “Can I drive?”

  “No,” Colt answered. “Come here.”

  She tipped her head to the side. “Why can’t I drive?”

  “Deal was you could have that car as long as I don’t have to get in it. Remember?”

  “That was a stupid deal,” she muttered.

  “You agreed to it.”

  “I was coerced,” she shot back and this was true. She’d played him using her shoes, her hands, her mouth, her ass, her pussy, her lacy teddy and the pool table and, after she got what she wanted, he’d played her right back.

  Her hands went from her hips to cross on her chest. “Come on, Colt, it’s a new car. I like drivin’ it.”

  “We’re goin’ somewhere, anywhere, I drive and I don’t drive a fuckin’ Beetle.”

  She rolled her eyes saying, “You’re such a man.”

  This was true too but Colt decided not to agree to something that was obvious.

  “Feb, not gonna say it again,” Colt warned her. “Come here.”

  He watched as her eyes locked on him and her body locked too.

  Then she asked, “Why?”

  “Just do it.”

  “Why?”

  “Feb –” he started.

  But she muttered, “Oh all right,” dropped her arms and walked to him in the kitchen. As she did so, he put his hand in his pocket, palmed the ring there and pulled his hand back out.

  She stopped in front of him, tipped her head back and asked, “What?”

  Colt leaned his hips back against the counter and looked at her.

  There had been a time in his life when he knew without a doubt this moment would come and then there was a time in his life when he knew without a doubt this moment would never come. The first he took for granted. The second had cut so deep, it’d been raw for decades and he’d had to learn, with some difficulty, to ignore it.

  When he was twenty-two, he’d had thoughts of tulips and candlelight and even getting down on his knee.

  Now that the time was there, he didn’t mind that he was going to do it in a kitchen with his hips against the counter and Feb impatient to get to Costa’s so she could do what he was just then going to do. He knew from the way she behaved at the Station that she wanted to talk about marriage and he wasn’t about to let her do it without his ring on her finger.

  “You know I love you,” he told her and her ear dipped to her shoulder just as her eyes went soft and her lips tipped up.

  “Yeah,” she whispered.

  “Love you enough to let you get that damned car,” he said and the softness went out of her face.

  “I’m thinkin’ the word ‘let’ when you’re talkin’ about me should be banished from this house,” she declared and Colt grinned.

  “Love you enough to let you spend your money on my garage.”

  “Our garage.”

  “Instead of heels.”

  “Colt, hello?” she called. “Black, red…” she pointed to her feet, “now matte silver.”

  “Matte silver?” Colt repeated, still grinning.

  “The color of my shoes,” she informed him and he looked down.

  “Is that what that’s called?”

  “Like you care,” she mumbled and he looked back at her.

  “You’re right, I don’t care.”

  She rolled her eyes and his hand shot out, nabbing her behind her neck and pulling her forward. She lost her balance and landed full-body against him, her hands at his waist, fingers curled into the material of his shirt there as his other arm snaked around her waist.

  He wrapped his fist in her hair and tugged her head back. “Love it when you roll your eyes, baby,” he whispered and her expression grew soft again.

  “What’s got into you tonight?” she whispered back, her eyes searching his face. “You’re acting weird.”

  “I want it big,” he answered and those dents formed at her brows again. “The biggest.”

  “Want what big?”

  “Our wedding.”

  She closed her eyes and lifted her brows and when she opened them again, his right hand took her left and pulled it in front of them. He watched her eyes drop to their hands but he didn’t take his from hers so he could watch the wonder that stole into her features as he slid his ring on her finger.

  When he’d seated the ring at the base, he repeated quietly, “The biggest.”

  “Colt,” she whispered to their hands, her eyes on the diamond there.
<
br />   “Food, a band, dancing, a shitload of flowers and you in a white dress,” Colt told her, pressing her hand flat to his chest and her eyes went to his as his arm curled back around her waist to hold her body close.

  “Colt.”

  “We’re ridin’ away on a Harley, though.”

  “Colt.”

  “Honeymoon on a beach.”

  “Colt.”

  His head came down and he put his mouth to hers. “I’m gonna fuck you in the sand under the stars.”

  Both her hands curled around his neck, her fingers going into his hair and she whispered, “Colt.”

  “You gonna marry me, baby?”

  She tipped her head so their foreheads were pressed together and she rubbed her nose along the side of his before she said, “Yeah.”

  His eyes dropped to her mouth and he muttered, “Good.”

  Before he could kiss her, she pulled her head away.

  “Can I say something?” she asked.

  “After I kiss you.”

  “No, before.”

  “What?”

  “I just have one question to ask.”

  “The answer is yes.”

  Her lips tipped up, her face got that soft look yet again and Colt’s hand tightened automatically in her hair as his arm at her waist gave her a squeeze.

  “That’s good,” she whispered.

  “What’s good?” he asked.

  “That the answer is yes. ‘Cause, see, I still wanna name our son Jack or, if it’s a girl, our daughter Jacqueline.”

  Colt’s body turned to stone, his mind blanked, his stomach dropped but his mouth moved to form one, quiet word. “What?”

  “If the baby I’m carrying is a boy, I want to name him –”

  Feb didn’t get to finish because before she could Colt yanked her even closer, took her mouth with his and he kissed her.

  * * * * *

  The phone rang and Stavros Costa rushed to it.

  “Costa’s,” he answered.

  “Stavros, it’s Colt.”

  Stavros looked down at his reservation book then up at the clock then he rolled his eyes, knowing what was coming.

  “You’re cancelling,” Stavros said into the phone. “Again,” he finished.

  “We’re on our way.”

  “It’s nine o’clock, you’re two hours late.”

  “Coupla things came up.”

  “I gave your table away, Colt, an hour ago.”