RUMORS

by Bellus, HJ

  Dalton closes the distance between us, grabbing Gemma’s piece of art from my hand and then pressing his lips to mine. It’s a quick kiss with a dart of his tongue across my lips. Just a little taste. Punishment in its purest form.

  “Still owie?” Gemma reaches down to Dalton’s opposite hip, the one that she’s not perched on. When she pats it he winces.

  I crane my head. “What owie?”

  “Big one.” Gemma’s eyes grow wide. “Colorful…”

  Dalton cuts her off. “Just got thrown into a panel the other day on the ranch.”

  “Uh-Nah.” Gemma shakes her head. “No, you…”

  Dalton backs out of the store talking over Gemma. “Come to my place when you’re done?”

  “Okay,” I draw out.

  “How long will you be?” He gets one question out as he opens the door.

  “A few hours.”

  “Okay, love you, Frankie.”

  “Love you, too.” I bite down on my bottom lip. Something is up with him, and this final floral arrangement in front of me is a hot mess. What in the hell is going on? Maybe the Mercury Retrograde that Opal was going on about really is a thing and has blasted into my world.

  * * *

  It’s dark by the time I pull into Cray’s lane. I’m done with this day and possibly over doing weddings anymore. I finally figured out the arrangements were missing a pop of color and went out on a limb, adding yellow sunflowers. Shockingly enough, the bride and her mom loved it.

  Dalton better have a big chilled bottle of wine ready for me. At this point, I wouldn’t even complain if wine was for dinner. At the T in the driveway, I glance over to Truckee’s house that’s all lit up, reminding me of Gemma’s odd comment today.

  Cray’s house only has the porch light on. I love it here. Haven’t admitted that fact to him yet. His house is perfect. The right size, cozy, and welcoming, with three bedrooms and two baths. It’s the log exterior and wraparound porch that stole my heart at first glance.

  I love my house and everything about it, don’t get me wrong. It was the first thing I’ve ever owned, or should I say paying monthly payments to own. It’s mine, but just not my forever home. I shake the crazy thoughts away, killing the engine to my truck.

  Yes, truck. Dalton insisted that I needed a truck. I did argue, but in the end he was right. I’m a woman with a horse who likes to ride and Subaru wouldn’t get the job done. A memory hits me causing me to laugh out loud.

  “Hey.” I open the door to my apartment.

  “Hey.”

  “We are so awkward,” I admit.

  He shrugs. “I might scare you if I do what I want to do.”

  God, I hope it is what I’m thinking. Please let it be what I’m thinking. “Try me.”

  He grabs my cheeks, takes a step in, and seals his lips to mine. The feel and taste of him is even better than I remembered. Cray drags his hands back to my hair, pulling it to the side and angling my face until he’s tasting every part of me and me doing the same to him. The loud banging of a door breaks us apart.

  “Too much?” he asks, stepping into my apartment and shutting the door.

  “Not enough.” My cheeks heat with the truth.

  Cray picks up on it and changes the subject. “The drive wasn’t bad.”

  “It’s a little over two hours.” I pull two bottles of water from the fridge, handing him one.

  “Gonna make it every weekend to kiss you just like that.” He winks. “Hell, you can even drive up to my place to kiss me like that.”

  It’s been eight days since we first reunited. We’ve FaceTimed on the phone every night talking everyday stuff. I thought I had told him everything that day in the barn, but I missed a pretty big part.

  I twist my lips together. “Well, um, I don’t have a driver’s license so there’s that.”

  He jerks back in shock. “Really? Why?”

  We settle on my couch and my insides jump when he takes my hand. “It’s always been on the agenda, but there’s never been the right time. There’s also the fact that I'm in my twenties and it’s kind of embarrassing to ask for help learning how to drive.”

  He nods. “I get that. But would kissing be a big enough motivator?”

  This time it’s me nodding. “Hell, yes.”

  “Well, I guess I know what we are doing today.” He stands, pulling me with him. “We are going to find a dirt road and you, my woman, are going to take control of it.”

  I fidgeted the whole way until Cray pulled of a deserted dirt road, and I’m doing the same thing behind the wheel.

  “Put it in drive and just gently push on the gas. You can go as slow as you want until you feel comfortable.”

  “Okay.” I nod.

  I push on the gas sending the truck lurching forward. My body follows the movement until my chest presses into the steering wheel honking the horn. Dalton slams his hands on the dash. I try to find the brake pedal, but unfortunately, I throttle down on the gas.

  “Brakes, brakes, brakes,” Dalton says in a gentle voice.

  My brain scrambles and I push harder down on the gas.

  “Brakes!” There’s panic in his voice this time.

  I feel the ass end of the truck do a squiggly move and finally remember where the brake pedal is and slam down on it. Dust swirls and rolls around us and the truck comes to a sliding halt. We’re not facing the road anymore. Nope, I’m looking square into the eyes of a black cow in a pasture.

  I’m certain Cray regretted offering to teach me to drive, but he never gave up. And when the truck shopping started, he insisted on one with every single safety feature, even up to the point of the truck slowing down if you’re too close to the back end of another vehicle.

  “You going to laugh to yourself all night in your truck or get your ass up here?”

  I glance over to see Cray on his front porch in a pair of low slung jeans, tight, tight white v-neck t-shirt, his hair damp and wild from a shower, and a glass of whiskey in his hand.

  “Just having a chat here with ol’ Larry.” I pat the dash of my truck.

  He shakes his head. “Only you would name your female truck Larry. Just remember I get to name all of our kids.”

  Butterflies zoom around on my insides. When he says things like that I can't help but want more with him. Everything. I’m ready and I know he’s giving me time and I have to do the same with him. It doesn’t help being around Gemma all the time either. I want a little Cray running around my feet. Well, I should say I want a well-behaved one with age-appropriate vocabulary.

  “Funny guy.” I jump out of the truck and shut the door behind me, following the cobblestone paved walk up to the front porch.

  “Hey.” I kiss his cheek and take his drink from him. The whiskey burns going down. I’ll never understand how some people explain it as being smooth. My belly instantly warms at the contact. It’s a heady combination of whiskey and the allure of this man standing before me.

  “Lips. You steal my whiskey. I at least deserve a kiss on the lips.”

  “Who am I to argue?”

  Our lips connect and my free hand dips under his shirt, roaming up his bare chest. I’m so close to breaking my own promise it’s about to drive me damn near insane.

  “Hey, guys!”

  We both turn to see Opal in her yard waving like a lunatic with hope in her eyes. Weird.

  “Get your nosey ass back in here, woman!” Truckee hollers. “Get to your kitchen!”

  Opal rolls her eyes and gives me one more hopeful wave. Dalton growls.

  “What in the hell was that about?” I ask.

  “Don’t worry about it.” He takes the tumbler of whiskey from my hand and downs it.

  “Are you okay?” I tuck my hand into the back waistband of his jeans and follow him into his house.

  He doesn’t answer. I freeze, my hand falling from his jeans.

  “Holy shit,” I whisper.

  All of the lights are out. Dozens, hell, maybe even hundreds of whit
e candles light up the place.

  “Dalton,” I whisper again, clearly forgetting how to use my voice.

  He stands before me, reaches an arm back and tugs his shirt off over his head. The flickering flames light a fresh tattoo that runs the length of his side. I crane my head a bit to read the one word: Frankie. A hummingbird sits above the F as flowers weave their way through the rest of the letters.

  I slap my hand over my mouth and feel tears burn the backs of my eyes. He grabs his phone from the table, presses a button, and sets it back down. “Millionaire” by Chris Stapleton begins playing.

  “Frankie.” He takes a step closer to me. “You’ve made me richer than any man on this earth.”

  I wrap my arms around his neck playing with the damp ends. I don’t hold back my tears as this is the day all little girls dream of and I’m getting to live it. Cray slings his arms low around my waist tugging me to him.

  “You saved me,” I whisper. “From so much.”

  “You showed me how to live,” he replies. “I don’t want to go one day without you, Frankie. I want this so fucking bad. I’m here.”

  “Me, too,” I whisper.

  Dalton drops his hands and goes to bend on one knee.

  “No.” I grab him pulling him back to me and don’t miss the glimpse of defeat on his features. “No.”

  I lick my lips and hurry to speak so he doesn’t think I’m turning him down. I wrap his arms back around my waist.

  “Not on your knees.” I shake my head. “You’re my equal. You never once gave up on me and stood tall. I want you to do the same thing now.”

  “Frankie,” he rushes out. “You just scared the shit out of me.”

  “I’m sorry.” I smile up at him. “I want you here standing with me.”

  I feel him move his fingers on my back then smooth a palm up the length of my spine. The thin t-shirt I’m wearing does nothing as a barrier to his touch. He doesn’t say a word as he slides a ring on my left ring finger.

  “Frankie May, will you…”

  “Yes. Yes. Yes.” I pepper kisses all over his face. “Yes, always you.”

  Cray throws back his head erupting in laughter. “You didn’t even let me finish my question.”

  “Doesn’t matter. I’d say yes and I do every day the rest of my life.”

  “Frankie, you taught me that sometimes wrong is so damn right.”

  Epilogue

  13 Years Later

  Frankie Cray

  “I’m so proud of you, Lou Lou.” I turn to face my twelve-year-old daughter who, with her looks, is no doubt a Cray through and through. “I know it’s hard to stand up for yourself.”

  She nibbles on her bottom lip. “I was nervous last practice when I asked him to stop throwing the basketball at my butt.”

  “You did the right thing, baby girl.” I lean over and kiss her.

  “Thank you for not telling Dad.” She grabs her bag. “I do want to play and not quit basketball.”

  She, of course, wipes off my kiss and jumps from the car, heading into basketball practice. Louise, more commonly called Lou, is a bright light in my life. She’s my oldest child. Sweet, kind, caring, and a bit reserved. Cray and I were married two weeks after his proposal and not long after we received the sweetest gift!

  She joined basketball this year, much to her father’s delight. Unfortunately, her coach is an asshole. I’ve had to bite my bottom lip several times, watching him coach his team. Lou confronted him last practice and I swear to God I’ve never been prouder of someone in my life. She stood up for herself. Something I learned too late in life, or actually, a life skill I learned later in life. I have no problem expressing myself now.

  “Momma, can we go get ice cream?”

  I turn around to see my boy. I’m certain none of my genetics played any part in making my children. Dalton’s mini-me smiles a toothless grin back in my direction.

  “After Lou’s practice. It’s only forty-five minutes long, D.J.”

  “Ugh, stupid sister.” He rolls his eyes.

  “Come up here and read your library book to me.” I tap the console of my truck.

  D.J. scrambles to get his belt off. He acts every bit a rough and tumble boy, but is a Momma’s boy at heart. I push the button down on the side of my seat to scoot it back until he has enough room to wiggle into my lap. I kiss the top of his wavy, chocolate brown hair.

  “What book did you get this week?” I ask, hugging him tight.

  His little fingers open to the first page. “It’s about cops, Momma.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut and smile. He’s obsessed with becoming a cop. He begins reading, stopping every now and then to sound words out. He’s in kindergarten and already reading at a second-grade level. Everything comes natural for him, from his dazzling personality to learning. My Lou is the opposite and works her tail off to achieve everything in life. They are both brilliant and the best kids ever.

  D.J. slaps the book shut. “The end. Momma.”

  “Yeah?” I look down at him as he stares up at me with big, round, chocolate eyes. “Do you think I will make a good cop?”

  “I think you’ll make the bestest cop ever.”

  “Momma.” He rolls his eyes. “That’s not a word.”

  The passenger door of the truck swings wide open, startling the shit out of me. A yelp escapes me as I clutch D.J. to my chest.

  “Did I miss it?” Cray jumps in.

  “What in the loving hell?” I do my best to control my racing heart.

  “Dad,” D.J. drags out. “You told me you wouldn’t rat me out if I kept you informed.”

  “Sorry, son.” Dalton leans over, kisses me on the cheek, and then ruffles D.J.’s hair. “Couldn’t stay away.”

  “Dalton,” I warn. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

  “I can’t believe you, Dad. You’re a fraud.”

  Cray leans over, snagging D.J. from my lap. “Hey, now, I didn’t hear you complaining when you were eating all of that ice cream and when you got a new pair of handcuffs.”

  “That was you?” My eyes grow wide and I swear I can feel the steam starting to roll out of my ears. “You said it was Truckee.”

  “No.” Dalton shakes his head. “You assumed it was Truckee and I didn’t correct you because it was probably the worst parenting decision I’ve ever made.”

  “You think? He had a bruise around his wrist and his fingers turned purple.” I glare at him remembering the day D.J. went missing. I went frantic racing all over the ranch. I finally heard a faint squeak to find him handcuffed to the stall gate.

  “Get your ass in the back. No questions. And don’t say a damn word when she comes out.” I point at Cray.

  He grins knowing he’s won this fight. I’ll be punishing him later when he’s ready for some fun adult time. I’ve learned what the power of holding out does to men.

  “Momma, I could buy a taser by now if we had one of those cuss jars like Jimmy’s parents have,” D.J. whines as he crawls in the back seat.

  “Don’t be mad.” Dalton leans over until he’s up in my face. “She’s my daughter and I’ve stayed back until now. We made her stand up for herself, but, Frankie, this has damn near killed me.”

  “I know,” I whisper. “But the handcuff stunt just to get inside information?”

  “I’m an idiot.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  He kisses me hard and fast, ignoring D.J.’s groans in the back seat.

  “Get in the back. She’ll be coming out any minute.”

  Dalton jumps in the back.

  “Dad, lay on the ground and I’ll cover you up with my jacket.” I laugh knowing Dalton will indulge his son.

  “Okay, bud, but you have to be my eyes up there. Don’t let any intel go by.”

  “Roger, Officer Cray, over and out,” D.J. replies with enthusiasm in his voice.

  Dalton’s voice is muffled. “If that small dic…”

  “Cray,” I warn him.

  “I’m just s
aying if Lou had a ball thrown at her butt there are going to be some serious words.”

  “Jesus, this isn’t going to end well.” I blow my bangs out of my face.

  A few minutes later the back doors to the gym flies open.

  “We have movement, Bald Eagle.” D.J. sits up.

  “Who in the hell is Bald Eagle?” Dalton asks.

  “Your code name. Now be quiet, Bald Eagle.” D.J. stomps his foot on Dalton’s back.

  “She’s in sight. Smiling, talking to Julia, the one with big boobs.”

  “Dalton Junior Cray, where did you hear that?”

  He shrugs, eyes wide, knowing he’s slipped up real good this time. “Gemma caught Weston looking at boobs on the computer.”

  “Were you there?”

  He nods.

  “Are you serious?”

  He nods again. “But I was like this.”

  He places both hands over his eyes. “But when I had to breathe I went like this.”

  He spreads his fingers so his eyes are exposed.

  Dalton’s laughter shakes the cab of the truck. He’s doing his best to keep it silent, but failing.

  “Well, you tell your cousin Weston that he better not do that again and if I find out there will be big trouble.”

  He nods.

  D.J. is nowhere near as wild and free as Gemma and Weston, however his curiosity may drive me insane and get him into some serious trouble. Just last week at the dinner table, he asked his dad why his wiener got really big before he peed.

  Dalton always tells me it’s just D.J. figuring out life. Somehow it eases my anger and worries. I have a child who gets to be curious and get into trouble. That’s a blessing in itself. The passenger door opens as Lou jumps in.

  “Hey, baby, how was it?”

  “Fine.” She throws her bag down on the floor.

  I watch her freeze as her coach walks out of the gym. The nearer he gets to our vehicle she starts to panic, goes pale, and locks the door.

  “Lou, what is going on?”

  “Mom, don’t get out and say anything. Just leave.” Her voice shakes.

  “Cray.” My voice shakes as bad as hers. “Baby.”