by Aly Martinez
He stared at me, angry and unimpressed. But while he was doing it…he blinked.
“Oh, okay. There we go. One blink.” I straightened in my seat and got busy putting my seat belt on. “You had me worried there for a second. Though I’m kind of disappointed. I’ve never chauffeured a robot before.”
Before we pulled out of the parking lot in order to start the impossible felon job hunt, I sent one last text to Nora.
Me: Plan worked perfectly. He told me to take my job and shove it. Initiating Part B of Gainful Employment.
We drove around for hours. Most places didn’t even give Ramsey the chance to mention the part about being a felon before the door was slammed in his face. Clovert was a small town. Someone had to die, retire, or move for there to be a job opening. Not to mention that people remembered when Josh had been killed. And they definitely hadn’t forgotten that it was Ramsey who had done it.
I drove him out to a few of the places that were closer to our house in Thomaston, hoping he could gain some anonymity, but the dejected look on his face each time he walked back to the SUV told me it wasn’t helping.
We went to a drive-thru for lunch. I feared it was going to go as well as it had at the restaurant the day before, but Ramsey had no problem leaning over me to order.
“Two number fours with a Coke and a large chocolate shake.”
We sat in the car and ate.
He didn’t talk.
I did.
He didn’t reply.
I pretended not to notice.
I smiled a lot that afternoon.
He scowled pretty much the entire time.
It was still the best day I’d had in over twelve years.
Deflated and exhausted, Ramsey gave up the job search around five o’clock. He signaled this to me with a grunted, “I’m done.”
I was sure he was expecting me to drive him home so he could lock himself in the bedroom with Nora again. Instead, I took him to meet his new boss.
Yep. I’d been well aware that he was never going to take that job from me. Not in a million years. Probably not even if it meant breaking his parole and going back. But there was no way he was going to be able to turn down Joe Hull.
“What the fuck,” he breathed as we pulled into a parking spot in front of my dad’s barbershop.
My dad loved Ramsey. Yes, he wished that that night hadn’t ended with a dead body, but he wasn’t all that heartbroken that it had been Josh Caskey after hearing what he’d done to me. Seriously, sometimes I thought my dad loved Ramsey more than he loved me. Okay, not totally true. But it felt like that when I was in the middle of a fit of rage, huffing and puffing about how Ramsey had abandoned me, and my dad would jump in and defend him. His favorite line was, “I’m sure he has his reasons.” It was like my dad wasn’t on my side at all.
Ramsey had written my dad two letters from prison—yep. Two. For accounting clarification, that would be one more than he’d sent to me. I’d snuck into my dad’s room to read the first one. It was filled with profuse gratitude, thanking my dad for taking Nora in. He’d hidden the second one from me though. I assumed it contained the same message since it had been received shortly after Nora had graduated college.
Ramsey “hated” me. Yes. Those are air quotes. But he respected my father. He owed him a debt of gratitude, and I was banking on the fact that even though he was a cranky prick, Ramsey wouldn’t be able to withstand one of Joe’s good ol’ guilt trips.
“Why are we here?” Ramsey growled.
I grinned at him, but it was my turn to play the silent game.
My dad came walking out of the double glass doors before I had cut the engine.
Pressed slacks. Tailored button-down with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Thinning, gray hair combed to the side. It was just the way Misty liked him.
I was thrilled when they’d gotten married. Dad had needed someone to take care of him. In a strange way, that had been the hardest part after he’d lost my mom. His heart was shattered, but she had always been the one to pick up the pieces. It took a lot of years and a lot of therapy for me to truly forgive him for the way he’d checked out after she’d died. But much like Ramsey, I’d never be able to thank him enough for the way he’d stepped up for all of us when our lives suddenly exploded.
And I loved him that much more as he rounded the hood of our SUV with a warm smile aimed directly at the man in my passenger seat.
When Ramsey looked at me, I was prepared for more of his anger, but his face paled and his gaze was pleading.
It almost made me feel bad for springing this on him.
Almost. But not really.
“Ramsey Stewart,” my dad greeted as he snatched the car door open. “I was wondering when my girls were going to bring you around to see me. How ya been, son?”
Ramsey blinked rapidly. “Um…Hi, Mr. Hull. I’m uh…good.”
I bit my bottom lip to stifle a laugh. Big, tough Ramsey had cussed me seven ways from Sunday, but he turned into a bumbling kid when it came to my dad.
“Come on in. We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”
He followed my father’s direction so quickly that he forgot to unbuckle his seat belt and it yanked him back when he tried to get out.
I couldn’t hide my laughter that time.
With jerky movements, Ramsey managed to escape the merciless belt of confinement and climb out of the car. My dad shook his hand and pulled him in for a back pat.
Contentment washed over me the likes of which I hadn’t felt in years. I liked seeing them together. My two guys embraced in a hug.
I tucked my phone and my keys into the back pocket of my jeans and then met them at the front door to the shop.
“How’s it going, buttercup?” my dad asked while pulling me in for a side hug.
I sucked in a deep breath. “Well, it turns out Ramsey never loved me. He was just trying to get laid in high school.”
Ramsey’s mouth fell open, the most incredulous shock contorting his handsome face.
My only response was a shrug.
“Hmm,” my dad hummed. “That true, Ramsey?”
“Well, I… That—That’s not what I meant, sir.”
“What did you mean, then?” I asked, innocently batting my eyelashes at him.
Oh, yes. This was going to be fun.
Ramsey bulged his eyes at me. “All I was saying was that we were kids when we dated. Things are different now. We’ve both changed a lot.”
“So, you did love me then?”
His jaw ticked as he shot lasers my way. “We were kids.”
“Right. I got that. I’m just trying to establish if you loved me or not. Were you lying then or are you lying now?”
My dad’s head bounced between us like he was watching a ping-pong match. Nora and I were not exactly known for being “well-behaved women.” My father encouraged us to step out and be heard, even when the entire town was against us. Besides, he was no delicate daisy, either. He’d heard far worse than this from us over the years. He was used to it.
Ramsey, however, was not.
He clenched his teeth so hard that I feared he was going to need a dentist when we left. “I think we can have this conversation later.”
“Okay, but to be clear, since I was so tragically bad at reading the situation last time. After we have this talk, are you hoping to get laid again? Or was that just a high school thing?”
My dad coughed and became enthralled with his shoes, and my Ramsey, my sweet Ramsey… His face turned bright red as he stared at me in absolute awe—and not the good kind.
But deep in my heart of hearts, it was the best kind because that was an emotion I recognized from him. Giving each other shit had been a way of life before he’d gone to prison. We loved each other fiercely, but we also loved to torment each other as if we didn’t.
I was actually quite proud of myself. His face had shifted through the full spectrum of colors in the three minutes since we’d arrived. That was no easy
feat with a man like him.
He stared at me.
I stared back.
My dad probably prayed to disappear before finally saying, “How about you don’t answer that right now, son. Knowing you’re trying to get my daughter between the sheets is going to make working together pretty damn awkward.” And with that, he opened the door and went inside.
“What the fuck?” Ramsey mouthed at me as he caught the door with a hand at the top.
I had no idea what part he was pissed off about: the fact that I was talking about sex and his stupid lies in front of my dad or the fact that he’d insinuated they would be working together.
It was funny either way.
The bells on the door jingled, announcing our entry, and Misty rose from her permanent seat at the check-in desk. “Thea,” she cooed, walking around the wooden counter, her short blonde bob brushing her round jawline. “Come give me some love.”
There was no arguing with Misty when it came to her “love.” My dad wasn’t particularly affectionate, but that man’s smile could light up a solar eclipse when his woman wrapped his baby in a momma-bear hug.
She pulled me in for a tight embrace, whispering, “How ya doing with all this?”
“Pretty okay actually.”
When she was done with me, she turned her attention on Ramsey. “Mister, I’ve heard a lot about you.” She gave him exactly zero warning before her arms were around his middle and her cheek was pressed against his chest.
Ramsey’s body went solid, and his face flashed yet another shade of discomfort.
I laughed. Again.
He scowled at me. Again.
“All right, babe. Let the boy go. I need to show him his new station.”
Ramsey once again looked at me. The emotion of the minute was accusation. “My station?”
Dad walked down the long aisle with four chairs and mirrors on each side. The shop was empty, which was strange for that time of day—something he’d no doubt planned with Nora. He stopped at the last chair on the left. “I lost a man to Gentleman Clips a few weeks ago. I’ve been trying to replace him, but the combination of talent and a good work ethic is harder to find than Atlantis.” He patted the back of the chair in a silent order for Ramsey to sit down.
He obeyed, and my dad wrapped him in a cape.
With a set of clippers buzzing in his hand, he asked, “My girls tell me part of your parole means getting a job.”
“Yeah. I got a few leads today.”
Using his free hand, Dad nudged the back of Ramsey’s head until his chin hit his chest. The buzzing returned as he went to work shaping up Ramsey’s hair on the back of his neck.
It was something so simple. He’d probably had hundreds of haircuts since he’d been gone. But seeing my father take care of Ramsey with a gentle touch and a skilled hand made my heart swell.
He kept the clippers to his neck, rendering Ramsey immobile as he said, “Well, this isn’t a lead. You start tomorrow.”
“No offense, Mr. Hull, but I’d rather—”
“How’s Nora doing? She good? Happy? Healthy? Safe?”
And there it was. The guilt trip.
I smiled, crossing my arms over my chest, preparing for the show.
“She’s great,” Ramsey answered, his eyes finding mine in the mirror. “We were both really lucky she had you and Thea while I was gone.”
My exhale became painfully lodged in my throat as I held his gaze. Holy shit, had he actually said something positive about me? It hadn’t been grumbled or rumbled, either. No cussing or seething. My vision swam, hope spiraling in my chest that this was some kind of magical turning point for us. And even if it wasn’t, it was a start.
I lost his eyes when my dad guided his head to the side to trim around his ear.
“We were lucky to have her. And I’m going to be lucky to have you here as well. I need someone I can trust, Ramsey.”
“I’m a convicted felon, Mr. Hull. That guy isn’t me.”
The buzzing sound suddenly stopped. “That’s not what I heard during our visit a few years back.”
I was relatively sure there hadn’t been an invasion and there were no bullets falling from the sky, but each one of his words pierced through me all the same.
“What?” I gasped. “You visited him?” I looked at Ramsey. “You let him visit you?”
Why did that hurt? After all this time, why did that feel like a knife of betrayal landing in my back, knowing that my own father had been allowed to visit him while I’d been emotionally and physically locked out of his life?
My dad ignored me, kicking back on the clippers and leaning Ramsey’s head to the opposite side. “I mean, I remember a lot of that conversation. Maybe I should refresh your memory in case you forgot about it.”
Ramsey’s gaze bounced to mine in the mirror, and like an oasis in the desert, apology was etched across his face. Just as quickly as it had appeared, it vanished, but Ramsey’s eyes never left mine. There was a weight to his stare that hadn’t been there before. Something hidden beneath the surface that I couldn’t quite read, but I desperately wanted to. If for no other reason than maybe it would help me understand this new version of my Ramsey.
The buzzing stopped again and the room fell painfully silent. My dad walked to his station to grab a comb and spray bottle, but Ramsey was out of that chair like it had been struck by lightning.
He ripped off the cape and tossed it in the seat. “I don’t have a license. I can’t work here.”
“You got your hours though. All you need to do is take the exam. Sit back down and let me take a little off your top.”
“Nah, I’m good,” Ramsey said. “Thanks for the cleanup, but we have to go now.” He marched toward the door, slowing to grab my arm and drag me after him.
Electricity licked at my skin as his finger bit into me—not rough, definitely not gentle.
“Eight a.m. tomorrow, your tail better be in my shop. You got it?” my dad called after us. “That’s not a request, son.”
Ramsey’s jaw turned to granite as he stopped at the door, his fingers still wrapped around my forearm. He stared at his reflection in the glass, his chest heaving and the thick cords of muscles at the base of his neck straining against his shirt. I didn’t have to know Ramsey the man to recognize that he was about to explode.
“Hey,” I whispered. Turning toward him, I rested my hand on his stomach. “Relax. You don’t have to take the job. We’ll figure something else out.”
His lids fell shut, and his brows drew together painfully. That day wasn’t supposed to end like that. I’d assumed he was going to be mad that Nora and I had set him up. But this was something else altogether. He was hurting. I didn’t know why or what was going on in his head, but it slashed through me.
“Ramsey,” I breathed, shifting into him until my front was flush with his side. He probably hated the contact, but it was all I had to offer. “It’s okay. Just breathe. It’s not a big deal.”
His eyes popped open, a feral emotion blazing within. Releasing my arm, he shoved the door open and walked out, saying, “I’ll be here at eight.”
It was a warm Georgia afternoon, but the chill his sudden departure left behind was arctic.
Confused, I looked at my dad and then to Misty and then back to Ramsey as he climbed into our 4Runner.
“What the hell just happened?” I asked everyone and no one.
My dad walked over and threw his arm around my shoulder. “Just be patient, baby. It’s going to be okay now.”
It didn’t feel like it was going to be okay. It didn’t feel like anything was ever going to be okay again. It felt a lot like the man I was in love with was shattered beyond repair.
And once again, it felt like it was my fault.
Fighting back tears, I nodded and walked to the car.
Our drive home was silent.
So were the next seven days.
Her brown hair scorched a path down my fevered skin as it brushed my abs.
>
“Wait,” I breathed, not yet ready for it to be over.
Her small hands pumped my cock, twisting and gliding in a relentless rhythm.
“Wait, wait, wait, please,” I begged, fisting the blanket.
Her large breasts swayed with the movement of her hands, the tips of her peaked nipples teasing my thigh as she continued to work me hard and fast.
The coil in my stomach tightened and my breathing shuddered. Fuck, I was close. Just a little more. Fuck me, just a little more.
Her rhythm faltered as I arched into her grip. My hips rolling to match her speed.
“Stay with me, Sparrow. Stay with me, baby, please.”
My lungs burned as I held my breath, the pain drawing me closer to the edge. I wasn’t ready. Not to lose her.
“No, no, no, no,” I chanted as my cock swelled.
It was too late. My mouth fell open, and my head slammed back into the pillow as I erupted, crumbling in the wake. A guttural moan escaped, agony and ecstasy mingling into one emotion as I emptied on my stomach.
I could keep my eyes shut, pretending she was still there as I continued to stroke my cock to ride out the waves of my release.
It was always so damn hollow after I got off. She’d be gone, and I’d be left alone, holding my deflating cock and feeling like a part of me had been carved out all over again. I hated the aftermath that followed so much that it was rare that I let myself think of her. But it had been a week since I’d gotten out and I was buckling under the pressure of having her close again.
She drove me to work each morning, usually wearing a fucking skirt so unlike her that I couldn’t decide if I wanted to bunch it at her hips as I spread her legs wide or rip it off and burn it.
Her office was next door, so she came over periodically to check in and talk to her dad. She was always smiling and laughing. It was fucking torture because I became Pavlov’s dog, my mouth watering each time the bell on the door would ring.
Nora had started back at work, so Thea drove me home too. She’d talk and tell me about her day, groaning as she vented about her crazy clients and giggling as she made jokes about her clients who weren’t crazy enough.
