Studfinder (The Busy Bean)

by L. B. Dunbar

  “Is this the talking you wanted to do?”

  “God, I’ve missed you,” she grunts as I slam into her while she balances on her kitchen island. Her legs wrap around me with her dress at her hips. My hands clutch at her backside, holding her against me while I surge into her over and over again.

  “I hated being away from you,” I admit before Rita’s mouth comes to mine, kissing me hard until our rapid rhythm interrupts. Her hands cup the back of my head as my hips flex to fill her with a hard-on that’s been aching for her warmth.

  “I’m sorry,” she stutters.

  “You have nothing to be sorry for.” I don’t want to talk while we’re in this position, so I cover her mouth again with mine, swallowing her gasps as I thrust into her, fighting the release clenching at my balls. Sometimes, I hate how quickly my body responds to her and eagerly wants release because of her, but at the same time, I love it. She does this to me.

  “Sweet,” I warn because the rush is coming whether I want it to or not. My hand moves between us, rubbing at the spot that sets her off. Her fingers dig into my shoulders as her head tips back, and her legs tug me tighter to her center.

  “Yes,” she cries out as her body stills. Her head lolls forward, and she covers my lips as I break. I cup the back of her neck and thrust my tongue into her mouth as I go off inside her heat.

  As the crest subsides but our hearts still race, I pull back from the kiss and press my forehead to hers.

  “Please don’t lose faith in me, sweet.” My voice remains ragged, breaths coming unsteadily as I close my eyes and will her to trust me.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” she tells me, and I want to feel that assurance in my bones. I want to believe I won’t lose her, but only time will tell where we will lead.

  For the next week, I’m back in Rita’s bed and also in her home. We cook together as we did before, but we also talk about everything. I tell her more about my art and the history behind it.

  “As I mentioned, I was just playing around with things but found it soothing. I like to keep my hands busy.” I suggestively wiggle my brows as Rita glances up from her side of the kitchen island.

  “Had you ever considered the possibility of selling your art?” She suggested such a thing the other day, but I hadn’t really considered it.

  “You’re very talented . . . with your hands.” She winks at me, playing along with the subtext conversation. “But seriously. You could sell your work at some of the touristy places in Burlington or even online. What about from the firehouse? You could make it a studio and rent the apartments upstairs.”

  It’s certainly a thought. “That old firehouse isn’t cheap.”

  “Could your brother go in on it with you? Is there something he could do with you?”

  Considering my brother, I sigh. “Drummond Brothers Electrical had been a discussion years ago, but I didn’t like how Nolan never took anything seriously. Don’t tell him I said that, but he hasn’t always been very responsible.” I hate to admit such a thing about my brother, but I didn’t have confidence in his ability to stick with a business plan or dedicate his all to working together. “He is my best friend, while my little brother, but crossing the line into business partners felt like a risk I couldn’t take with him.”

  “I don’t think he likes me,” Rita states.

  “He doesn’t even know you,” I defend my brother. “Why would you say that he doesn’t like you?”

  Shrugging, she answers. “Maybe it was that less than stellar greeting he gave me when I went to your house a week ago.”

  Nolan had been a total dick when Rita showed up at our house, and we had words again about Rita after she left. It wasn’t that Nolan didn’t like Rita; he didn’t trust her. He told me lawyers were snakes with their own agenda, reminding me of that python attorney Parker Avery who prosecuted my case. He added that there wasn’t a single thing Rita could want from me, other than some orgasms and great sex. I scoffed at his lack of faith that I could offer a woman something more than my dick.

  Sneaking a strawberry from the bowl she’s filling, I pop it in my mouth and enjoy the burst of flavor. “He’s just being protective of me. He doesn’t want me to get hurt.”

  “And he thinks I’d hurt you?”

  I shrug, unable to answer her question without it potentially leading to a fight. Rita could hurt me. It isn’t just my past but also my future. I want her to have faith in it like she says she does. I want her to have faith in us, but I accept that we are still raw in our reunion. Although in the words of Nolan, we are having great sex with lots of orgasms.

  “I wanted to tell you I’ve been learning a little bit about myself from the AA meetings.” In that discussion we had about alcoholism, when she told me about her past, I explained to her how I was under the influence when I was arrested and my response to said arrest, which resulted in assaulting an officer friend. She also knows that I drank in prison. Sarcastically, I once explained how I could become a ketchup moonshiner if I ever wanted a new career path. Rita listened as I described how creative inmates could be with fruit syrups or the famous condiment to produce alcohol. Getting caught sick off the stuff landed me in my prolonged sentence in alcohol counseling. I’d learned my lesson well enough from that experience, but the prison system thought otherwise.

  “There’s a lot of talk about God in the program, and I’m not certain what I’ve done to piss Him off, but a bigger part of the program is learning to forgive myself. Accept what’s been done.”

  Rita slowly smiles. “The Serenity Prayer?”

  I nod. “There are things I cannot change. I’ll never know who set that blaze. Why the school. Why the timing. I need to accept those things.” Rita wants to do more sleuthing into my case, but I just want to leave it alone. I’m almost to the end of my sentence. “But there are things I can change, and that begins the second I’m free of my sentence.”

  “Why do you have to wait until your sentence is complete?”

  I shrug. “I just want to be free of all constraints before I take the next step.”

  “Am I a constraint?”

  The question surprises me. “Why would you ask that?”

  “I don’t know. Do I hold you back from moving forward? Do you feel like being with me is some kind of purgatory or penance or transition from who you were to who you want to be? Albert mentioned your working for Building Buddies is restoration, both physically and mentally. Do you feel you have something to make up to me?”

  My brows crease, wondering where all this is coming from, and I slowly stand to round the island. “Sweet, I’m the same man I was before prison. Maybe a little bitter. Maybe a lot hardened, but I’m still me. Inside.” I point at my chest. “I still feel things, want things. I want to be trusted, and I want you. If I started that fire. If I had a hand in your Ian dying, I might feel I had to make something up to you, but I’m confident in my innocence. And you and I have nothing to do with my past. You’re like some freak of luck that’s finally come my way in seven years.”

  “It’s not just a seven-year itch?”

  Taking the knife from Rita’s hand, I place it on the counter. I lift her hand, still holding a sweet strawberry, and suck it out of her grasp. “Why would you say such a thing? What’s going on in that smart head of yours?”

  “I just don’t understand why you’d be with me. What are we doing?” Her voice softens, and doubt crosses her face.

  “We’re enjoying one another,” I state, lowering to kiss her. I don’t want to keep talking, and I definitely don’t want her to start overthinking. We’re still on tender ground, letting go of what we’ve learned and stepping forward to learn more about one another.

  Quickly, the kiss turns more intense. My lips slip to her jaw and then her throat as my hands slide into her hair. Eventually, I tug at the hem of her T-shirt, dragging it up and over her head, breaking the kiss only long enough to note the color of her bra.

  “No purple?” I pout.

 
“I thought I’d change it up.” She laughs.

  I smile, tugging one cup downward to expose her full breast. Her breath hitches as I lower for her nipple, my tongue circling the tightening nub before I pull back with an idea. I reach into the bowl of berries and place a sliced strawberry atop her nipple, perching it on the peak.

  “What are you doing?” She chuckles as I lower to nip both the fruit and her sensitive skin.

  “Tasting how sweet you are,” I tease. “Almost as sweet as this berry.”

  “Is that why you call me sweet instead of sweetheart?”

  “I call you sweet because you said you weren’t my sweetheart. As soon as you give me your heart, I’m happy to change the word, although I’ve become partial to sweet.”

  Her eyes widen before her smile grows. “You have my heart, Jake.” Her hands wrap around my neck, and fingertips rub through my hair.

  “Do I, Rita? Do I have your heart yet?”

  “Hypothetically speaking, it’s getting there,” she says, chewing the corner of her lip, fighting a grin.

  “And not hypothetically speaking . . .” I whisper, lowering my lips to hers but not giving in to the kiss I want to give.

  “It’s already yours.”

  Unable to fight a grin, the corner of my mouth curls upward, and I finalize the distance to kiss her as I wish.

  “You have mine as well. Of course,” I tease.

  “Of course.” She laughs again, and I capture the sweet sound with another kiss. “Now, can I show you how well I use my hands?”

  “That ego. Your head is so big.” Rita continues to laugh and adds, “Please, show me how skilled your hands are, handsome.”

  I catch one of hers with mine and reach around her for the bowl of berries before tugging her forward. “What are you doing with that fruit?”

  “I’m also going to show you how skilled I am at getting drunk off berries lined along your body.”

  “Oh my.” Rita chuckles.

  Oh my, indeed.

  21

  Rita

  When the law school graduation arrives, Jake sits in the audience with his brother while I sit among the other alumni present. While I’d typically pass on this event, I’m honored to attend because Jake wanted me here. I’ll be meeting his nephew today as well as his nephew’s fiancée. Having not been back to Jake’s house, I haven’t crossed paths with Nolan, but I’m hoping for the best as today is his son’s day.

  As the ceremony ends, people gather in the crowded vestibule and spread to the outdoors while awaiting the graduates to find their families. I stand outside by myself, waiting on Jake.

  “Rita?” Turning at the sound of my name, I’m surprised to see Parker Avery. Instantly, I recall that Parker prosecuted the case that involved Ian’s death, which means she prosecuted Jake.

  “Parker.” She walks toward me with a man at her side. He’s dressed in the academic robes of a professor.

  “Rita, I haven’t seen you in years.” Parker reaches for me, offering a hug I don’t expect. We didn’t cross paths much despite us both being lawyers. Parker had eventually been connected with the State, taking on more criminal cases. She often encountered my father as a judge in our area. Her embrace reeks of sympathy from years past, and I grin and bear the pity in her eyes. “How are you?”

  Dismissingly, I wave my hand. “Life is good,” I say, finding I mean it. Jake and I are working through things together while experiencing terrific sex. We’re enjoying one another, as he said.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask her.

  “This is my husband, Lance.” He’s a nice-looking man with streaks of gray at his temple and sharp cheekbones. A firm hand reaches out for mine, and we shake in greeting.

  “Nice to meet you.” I didn’t know Parker was married.

  “Lance has been teaching a course here this last year. What are you doing here?”

  “I’m waiting on a friend. His nephew graduated.”

  “Oh, really? Who?” Lance asks me.

  “Rory Drummond.”

  Lance slowly smiles. “Ah, Rory. Great student. He’ll make an excellent lawyer. He’s the one I was telling you about.” Lance turns to his wife, but Parker is looking at me.

  “His uncle is Jake Drummond,” Parker states as if I should recognize the name.

  “Actually, that’s the friend I’m waiting on.” I wink at her. Parker’s forehead hitches upward, causing her blond hair to shift in her tight ponytail.

  “You know who he is, don’t you?” Her voice is full of concern and compassion, and once again, the sound grates on me.

  “I believe you prosecuted his case a few years ago. A fire, correct?” I meet Parker’s eyes, letting her know I’m aware of Jake’s case.

  “Honey, I’m going to go congratulate some of the students,” Lance interjects. “Nice meeting you, Rita.” He steps away, but Parker remains.

  “You know, I never really thought he did it,” Parker states, surprising me once again. “I remember that case. It’s one of those that haunt you once it’s over. The evidence was so sketchy.”

  I’d love to ask how she can prosecute such a case, but I know the objective is to prove the guilt of the innocent from her position. If he was innocent, she’d have no case against him.

  “Why would you say that?” I still question.

  “There was just something about him. His background didn’t match the criminal mind of a pyrotechnic, nor did he have any prior convictions or even complaints within his department. There wasn’t a scrape or dent on his record. Factor in the circumstantial evidence of his background, linking it to the crime with no proof, and I never felt good about that case.”

  I stare at Parker for a long moment, wondering if one day I would have become like her. Hardened to the truth, in the name of winning, not justice.

  “Who do you think did do it then?”

  Parker shakes her head. “I don’t have a clue, but I suspect someone else in the department. Someone lower in the ranks. Maybe someone passed up on being a chief. When budget cuts occurred, those candidates would have been the most upset if they didn’t have other income.” Parker shrugs. “It had to have been someone who understood fire mechanics and maybe electrical work, but that could have been anyone.”

  Passed up for being a chief. I remember Jake telling me Nolan had been up for that type of promotion. It would have been a paid position within the department.

  “So you’re dating him then?” Parker questions, interrupting my sudden thoughts.

  “Something like that,” I state, flippantly dismissing a label for us.

  Someone who understood fire mechanics but also electrical work.

  Drummond Brothers Electrical had been a discussion . . . Don’t tell Nolan, I didn’t trust him to be responsible.

  Parker’s brows pinch, and she looks up to notice her husband waving her over.

  “It’s been great to see you again, Rita. I miss your dad.” Her words are like a final stab to my chest. He was respected by those who entered his courtroom, but I miss him a million times more than anyone else because he was my father.

  “Yeah. Me too,” I mutter as Parker rubs a sympathetic hand down my arm before excusing herself. I watch as she walks away before turning back to the gathered crowd, hoping to find Jake among the mass, only to find Nolan on the periphery a few yards from me, watching me.

  Firemen started fires to save jobs. The words come back to me in Jake’s voice when he explained the judge’s reasoning behind a motive for Jake’s actions. The actions he didn’t make.

  Oh my God. I didn’t like what I was thinking.

  22

  Jake

  “Rory,” I call out around the cluster of people. I’d gotten Nolan out of the fray, pushing him to the edge of the sprawl of graduates and families who trickled outside before I headed back through the crowd to find his son.

  Rory turns as he hears his name and waves at me. We both work our way around bodies before we connect then I dr
ag his body into a hug.

  “I’m so proud of you, little man,” I say as I slap his back.

  “You know you can stop calling me that,” he teases, pulling out of my embrace but keeping an arm around my shoulder. It hits me at the moment how much I’ve missed this kid, who is no longer little, and how much I’ve missed out on with him in the past seven years. His graduation from high school and college. His senior moments like prom and parties. His college fraternity weekends for families. His meeting Brynne.

  A petite blonde stands off to the side when Rory spins out of our embrace.

  “Uncle Jake, you remember Brynne.” My nephew’s voice is infused with his love for this girl who smiles shyly and offers a hand in greeting.

  “I hear we’re going to be family again.” Clutching her offered hand, I step forward and press a kiss to her cheek. I decide it’s not her fault she’s a Dunhill and related to Lisa.

  “Still the charmer, I see.” My back straightens at the sound of my ex-wife’s voice. Lisa’s still stunning with raven black hair and deep-set dark eyes, but her tone reminds me how ugly she turned. Standing beside Lisa is her older sister, Brynne’s mother, Monica.

  “Monica. Lisa,” I state, a bit surprised at their attendance. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

  Rory clears his throat. “Lisa and Brynne are close.” The unspoken is heard loud and clear. Brynne was raised by her aunt, almost like Rory was raised by me as his uncle. Brynne’s mother was a single parent just like Nolan. Connections become clear to me. Rory and Brynne understand one another.

  “It’s great to see you again,” Lisa states, but I’m certain she’s lying. Her eyes roam up and down my suit-clad body. “You look good.”

  Unease washes over me. I’m not playing games with my ex-wife. She wanted to dissolve our marriage. We’d called it irreconcilable differences as she wished, but the truth was she cheated on me with a chief in the department. They had an affair, and I’d caught her.