He looked pained as I shakily handed him my paperwork, and I thought, holy crap, this shit actually works! His expression changed, however, when he studied my license. His lips quirked, and then he broke into a delighted smile. “Well, I do believe I’ve pulled over a celebrity.”
“What?” I snuffled.
“Miss Wade, you’re about famous in the law enforcement community. Between your spectacular wreck, your numerous tickets, and the occasional intervention by Mr. Dupree, you’ve earned a good ol’ reputation. I’m thinking I’m gonna need your autograph.” He started belly laughing, which in turn set off my temper.
“Those tickets were biased. I had Pennsylvania plates on my car—”
“Those tickets were valid from what I hear.”
“Okay, fine. I won’t say they weren’t, but still, my fiancé will kill me if I get another one.”
“Yeah, and you’re about near losin’ your license as it is.” He placed his metal clipboard on top of the car and filled my window frame with his broad shoulders. “But since you’re marryin’ Pete next month, and I’ve been invited to the wedding—thank you very much for that—I think it’d be bad form to give you a ticket. Consider this my weddin’ gift to y’all.”
My jaw literally fell open, and I stared at him mutely. He then took off his glasses and looked at me quite seriously. “Susan, take it easy, honey. Pete loves you with all his heart. It’d kill him to lose you.” Then he smiled broadly. “See ya at the weddin’!” He slapped his hand on the roof then sauntered back to his car. Mental note: Officer Thompson was getting preferred seating in the sanctuary.
I honestly did drive slower the rest of the way to Raleigh. One, I didn’t want to push my extremely good luck, and two, the fine officer’s words kept ringing in my ears. I’d worked very hard to calm my life down, to find peace and satisfaction. Though the world seemed like it was caving in on me at the moment, I knew deep inside it was a passing thing. Plus, if I never stepped foot in a hospital again, that would be just fine with me.
♥
In its perennial way, Philadelphia was beautiful to me: the gleaming high-rises in the distance as we made our final approach; the sparkling ribbon of water reflecting a cold, but agreeable sun; the red ribbons of traffic never failing to draw the eye. Did I love Atlantic Beach? Absolutely. Did I pine for this living, bustling city? Yes. Yes, very much.
I tipped the taxi driver, smiled up at the mural of Ben Franklin in the foyer, and quickly followed the bellboy into the warm and stately interior of the Kimpton Hotel. The view of the twinkling cityscape from my large bedroom window sent an electric thrill through me. I pressed my nose against the glass. Though it had been only a short time since my last visit, I missed this. Hell, I missed this hotel. I unpacked my bags and slipped my brand-spanking new Taser into my purse. I hadn’t told Pete a thing about January, but from now on, I wasn’t coming up here without protection. This was my professional home, dammit, and no one would take it from me.
True to his word, Ryan had worked his sorcery, and Gregory Foster was no longer District Manager of Massachusetts. When I casually inquired, I was told he’d been sent to Asia on special assignment. The last person who’d had “special assignment” pinned to his name had never been heard from again. My level of anxiety dropped an order of magnitude.
I looked for him: Ryan. I wanted to thank him for what he’d done, the rare kindness he’d shown me. Regardless of true motive, he had, for once, done something good—at least for me.
♥
Wednesday afternoon couldn’t come soon enough. I literally cared more about wrenching my wedding dress from the clutches of the Mao Tse-Tung of fashion than the fantastical impossibility of getting promoted to vice-president. Snort.
Spat from the revolving glass jaws of the monster called headquarters, I scurried across the plaza, waving my hand wildly for a cab. The wind whipped furiously at my coat, sending goosebumps swarming along my extremities. It was absolutely flipping freezing in the Great White North, but my heart was warm with anticipation. “Saks,” I ordered…politely.
“See. Fit perfect.”
I gazed in the mirror at a creature I barely recognized. The dress clung to me in the most perfectly alluring way, yet I could breathe comfortably. I examined every inch of the material, searching for mistakes, but it was flawless.
“So many beads. So much lace. You pick hard dress. Give me extra work.”
“You did a wonderful job,” I grudgingly admitted.
“I do good work. Worth wait.” She unbuttoned the dress and released me from my corseted prison. While I changed, she hermetically sealed my wedding glory. “I ship to you express. Be there tomorrow.”
“Thank you.” I bowed slightly. Though alterations were free of charge at Saks, she’d clearly worked her ass off and deserved a major tip, which I produced without hesitation.
Looking up at me, her tiny face crinkled into a smile reminiscent of an Asian Yoda. She quickly stuffed the bills in her bra, and then said, “Okay, bye-bye.”
13
Stroke of Midnight
I was getting sentimental in my old age. I considered my previous returns to North Carolina around this date—the scorn of the first and the terror of the second. This year, I felt nothing but calm joy, a gentle breeze on an early spring day—that, and the weight of the whole frigging world. I’d already contacted Anita twice from Philly and once more upon landing in Raleigh.
Mona, who’d already picked up the cake and had it safely stored in the refrigerator at the Frog, had stopped taking my calls altogether, changing her voicemail message to the following: “Hi, this is Mona Skarren. If you need assistance regarding your INTech product, please press one. If this is Susan, what on earth are you callin’ me about now?” Beep.
“It’s already all decorated,” Mona announced as I entered the Frog. “Jimbo and I hung the streamers this morning and we’re blowin’ up the balloons right now.” She tossed a handful at me. “Gosh, Susan, it’s not like we haven’t been doin’ this for years!”
Ouch! It was one more reminder that I hadn’t been part of this world for long and was still an outsider in some respects—many, actually. I hadn’t exactly been warmly welcomed back last year when I’d stormed into this very bar and staked my claim on Eastern North Carolina’s favorite son, and I absolutely knew that most everything these fine folks did for me was out of love for Pete. Still, I wanted to be a real part of this community, to be fully accepted. And with a sinking feeling, I knew that day might never come.
“Mona, thanks again.”
“Well, ’course. If you can get him here by midnight, we can sing to him right as the date changes.”
“Midnight,” I said with a snort. “Not a problem.”
“See ya then. Oh, and drive safe!” she added with a smirk. I rolled my eyes. Apparently, gossip here traveled faster than a speeding-Susan, and clearly, the police had nothing better to do than escort it.
My headlights licked Pete’s form as the driveway opened into our large parking area. He was leaning against the garage door, beer in hand, a look of pure pleasure on his face. I inhaled sharply; his masculine beauty never failed to stun me.
“I missed you,” I said, jumping out of the still running car and throwing myself into his open arms.
“Not nearly as much as I missed you.” He pulled my body tightly against his and kissed me very deeply. I melted into his warm chest like caramel. “Let’s get you into that house and out of those clothes. I’ve got plans.”
Quickly glancing at my watch as he retrieved my bags, I nodded to myself. Plenty of time.
Sweaty and sated on our dining room table, my mind returned to me along with the glaring knowledge that I had to get my charge to Havelock before he turned into a pumpkin. I ran a finger down his flushed face, tracing his cheekbone and his full lips. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.
“You know what I’d like right now?”
Our lips all but touching, he whispered,
“Name it, and it’s yours.”
“A beer.”
The table creaked as he climbed off. I stared at his amazingly firm ass as he ambled to the refrigerator. Popping open a Budweiser, he slowly dragged the cold bottle up my stomach and over one of my breasts. My nipple hardened instantly. He took a large sip, and then bent down and kissed me, the cold hoppy flavor slowly filling my mouth. Oh, this is the kind of seduction women live for. Everything below my belly clenched, and another wave of warmth spread between my legs.
“Still thirsty?”
I nodded, and he took another sip, again pressing his lips to mine. Our tongues thrashed in a swirl of liquid foam. We were going to be late, and for a scant moment, I thought, to hell with the party. But then I imagined all the disappointed faces waiting to surprise him, and further, the wrath I’d incur if I failed to produce him on time. I sat up and took the bottle from him. “What I mean is, I’d like to have a beer with our friends.”
“Sounds great. We can meet up with them tomorrow,” he murmured against my collarbone.
“No, I mean tonight.”
His eyebrows hit his hairline. “Susan, I’ve got you naked, slick, and laid out on this table like a royal feast, and you want me to give that up so we can sit in a bar with people we can see just as easily tomorrow?”
“Yes,” I said, nodding emphatically.
He shook his head in disbelief, and then simply said, “No.”
I crossed my arms mulishly. “Yes. Now.”
He leaned in and tried to kiss me again, but I scrambled off the table and began collecting my clothes. Latching my bra, I quickly snaked my arms through my blouse, and then snatched my skirt off the couch. Sometime during my striptease, my underwear had disappeared. Fruitlessly peering under the table, I dropped to my knees and scrounged under his recliner.
Pete cleared his throat, and I glanced up to find him twirling my panties around his index finger. “I’m not givin’ these back.”
Promptly turning, I marched to the stairs, but he cut me off by filling the portal. Given no other option, I looked him straight in the eye and said, “Then I’ll go without.” I shimmied right into my skirt, zipped it, and then planted my arms on my hips.
His mouth popped open, and then he bit the tip of his tongue in the most sensual way. “Alright, Susie-Q, I’ll take ya to the Frog.” He quickly reclaimed his boxer-briefs and climbed into his baggy cargo shorts. His head poked out of his t-shirt like a snapping turtle.
I reached out my hand for my panties, but he shook his head. “Oh, no. We’ll go, but I’m keepin’ these.” He brought the black satin to his nose and inhaled deeply before stuffing them in a generous pocket. Grabbing my purse, he smacked my bottom with it. “And you’re drivin’.”
It was eleven-thirty-five before we got into Morehead City, proper. I turned onto Hwy 70 and gunned my Audi, rocketing through the thirty-five mph zone at fifty. Pete turned his torso towards me and rested a warm hand on my knee. “Tell me about your week, sweetheart. Start at the beginning.”
“Well, I was barely past the Glen Bernie Road exit when I got pulled over by a State Trooper.”
He made a tsking sound and gently squeezed my thigh. “Not good.”
“I know. The guy’s name was Thompson. Do you know him?”
“Second cousin. Mamma’s side.” His thumb began absently drawing lazy circles on my already sensitive skin.
The city fell away, and after crossing the railroad tracks, we entered the open stretch flanked by the never-ending forest of solemn pines. I pressed down on the accelerator until we were rolling along at the healthy clip of seventy-five mph. The digital clock flashed 11:45. Crap! My mind focused on the task, I soon became aware that the lazy circles on my thigh were moving a few millimeters higher with each pass. “He’s comin’ to the wedding, I believe.”
Glancing at him, I took in his innocent-as-a-choir-boy expression. “He said that.” My breathing increased as his thumb neared the danger zone. “He let me off without a ticket as a wedding gift.”
“Awfully nice of him.” He grazed the tips of my pubic hair. I clamped my legs together as tightly as I could manage without impairing my driving and focused on the road. The speedometer needle had begun falling, so I pressed down harder on the accelerator. He seized on the fraction of spread and moved his thumb closer. 11:50. We were nearing the 101 exit. I was having trouble thinking of anything other than pulling onto the shoulder and having my wicked way with him. Then I imagined Joe Pat standing sentinel at the door, the crowd groaning every time another car passed.
Absolutely sopped between my legs, when his thumb grazed my softest parts, I inhaled sharply and bit my lip.
“What happened then, darlin’?” he calmly asked.
“Well, I, um…I thanked him.”
“Always polite. What’d you do next?”
The circles became tight and mercilessly torturing. He applied a little more pressure, and I began panting. 11:54. My voice went staccato as I tried to form words. “I…uh, got back on the, um, road—highway, I mean.”
I swerved onto 101. The one and only stoplight in all of the forsaken town of Havelock turned inexcusably red. I slammed on the brakes, and Pete plunged a finger deeply inside me. “Argh!” I pushed back against the seat and tilted my pelvis, my lungs sipping air erratically. He began moving it in and out to the rhythm of his circling thumb. My eyes literally rolled back in my head.
“Susie-Q?”
“Yes?” I gasped.
“The light’s changed.”
“What?”
“The light’s green now. You can go.”
I opened my eyes. 11:58. Stomping on the gas, in approximately forty-five seconds, we fish-tailed into the Frog’s parking lot. I skidded into the first available space, threw the car in park, and promptly convulsed, groaning as my insides seized up in violent spasms.
When my throbbing subsided, he leaned over and put his lips to my ear. “Next time, you’ll stay put when I ask ya to.” He popped his finger into his mouth and sucked on it, never breaking eye contact. Holy fuck!
Midnight. I opened the door and nearly fell out onto the gravel. Quickly straightening my skirt, I raced around the car and yanked on Pete’s arm. “Come on!”
He stood and adjusted himself, so the impressive tent that had erected itself in the front of his shorts was more a thick bulge. He allowed me to drag him up the stairs, and we burst through the door. The bar was completely empty. With very little blood flowing to his brain, he looked profoundly confused.
“Surprise!” The chorus yelled, faces popping up from behind tables, the counter, the popcorn machine. Bodies spilled from the bathrooms in a great gush.
Smiling triumphantly, I grabbed his head and kissed his lips, his stunned expression utterly comical. “Happy Birthday, Pete.”
Mona scurried to the center of the room and pulled on a string, releasing an avalanche of multi-colored balloons. They bounced off his dazed head and onto the floor as a giant smile slowly spread across his face. Suddenly he snatched me up in his arms and kissed me solidly. “You wicked, wicked woman.”
A goofy party hat was placed on his head, and he was escorted to a bare table over which the netting, formerly holding the balloons, dangled limply. With great pomp, Jimbo marched out carrying a giant Carolina-fucking-Blue cake, littered with flaming candles. The room broke into a drunken rendition of “Happy Birthday”. Crystal Ann placed a beer in Pete’s hand, and the cake was cut.
His glittering eyes found mine, and he mouthed, Thank you.
I love you, I mouthed in return.
After the cake was served, the dance music was cranked up, and we found ourselves crammed into Mona’s overflowing booth. I was sitting on Pete’s lap, and I squirmed a little just to taunt him. He put his hands on my hips and planted me firmly in place.
“Y’all just barely made it,” Mona remarked.
Pete and I looked at one another. “Traffic,” Pete said impressively.
�
�Yes! Lots of traffic.” I nodded vigorously. “There must have been some road work going on.”
“In the middle of the night?”
“The best time,” we replied simultaneously.
Pete leaned forward like he was scratching his leg when in reality he was running his hand up mine. “Susie-Q, I believe you might’ve left your headlights on. We’d better go check.” He squirmed out from beneath me and stood, pulling me close against him. “If y’all will excuse us a moment, we’ll be right back.”
He negotiated me through the crowd like a human shield, and then pulled me down the stairs. Flinging open the rear door of my car, he all but shoved me inside. “Ya wanna know what I wished for as I blew out all those candles?”
“A pet elephant?” I said, smiling hugely as he climbed in beside me. I heard his zipper rip. Flipping my skirt up, he pulled me onto his lap, spread my legs wide, and eased me down onto his gigantic erection.
“Hold tight. This won’t take long.”
♥
Pete’s birthday breakfast was spent the way any red-blooded American male would like: in bed, with a naked woman feeding him chocolate cake. Licking my fingers, I rolled off the mattress and rummaged through my carry-on bag. “Happy Birthday,” I said, kissing his frosting smudged lips. I handed him the small Cartier box I’d guarded with my very life. He quirked an eyebrow. “Open it.”
Lifting the lid, he said, “Cufflinks.”
“Uh huh. Monogrammed and everything.”
“They’re beautiful,” he said, holding them in his palm. “Weighty, too.”
“That would be from all the gold. I thought you might wear them on our wedding day. They’ll look great with your tux.”
The depths of his jade eyes became infinite. He took my face in his hands and kissed me gently. “Susan, I couldn’t love ya more if I tried.”
Back Where I Belong: A Wonderfully Witty and Completely Absorbing Love Story (Susan Wade Series Book 3) Page 12
