by K. Langston
Even in slumber, he makes me feel safe.
In addition to my photo and Bible, one of the nurses at the hospital, Ginger, had been kind enough to bring me a change of clothes, along with a new toothbrush, small hairbrush, deodorant, and a pair of new underwear. I was beyond grateful for those simple items. Everything I own is right there in that tiny backpack, and though it saddens me greatly, it also gives me hope.
“Let’s get the hell outta here, boy, airports make me nervous,” Pop says as he collects Justin’s duffle bag, throwing it over his shoulder and walking out of the exit.
Justin reaches for my hand, curling his fingers safely around mine as we follow Pop to the parking lot.
Bluebonnet Ranch is located only a few miles outside of the city of Dallas but it’s like stepping into another world. A world I am familiar with. The sprawling home and acreage are breathtaking. It reminds me of Iowa, green grass, tall trees, and fresh country air. The sun is just beginning to set as we pull up, casting a kaleidoscope of colors across the southern sky.
“Home sweet home,” Pop says as he kills the engine then turns to face us in the backseat. “I need to go do my nightly chores. Catch up with you two later.” Then his kind eyes focus solely on me. “Make yourself at home, Selena. What’s ours is yours.” A nod and wink and he’s out of the truck, hopping onto an ATV, kicking up dust in his wake.
Those few words settle around my heart like a warm fire. Justin opens the door and helps me from the back, retrieving my backpack and handing it to me.
As we walk inside from the garage, the smell of cedar and apples infiltrates my nose along with the sound of claws clicking across the hardwood. A black and tan dog rushes us, lifting on his hind legs to greet Justin. He releases my hand to scratch the beast’s head right under his ears.
“Hey, boy, miss me?” Justin chuckles as the dog licks his chin. “This is Rosco. Our prize coonhound and the only one we keep inside. He looks big and scary, and he can be if there is a threat, but other than that he’s nothing more than a big ole baby.”
“He’s very large.”
“You should see his papa.”
Rosco falls back down to all fours and moves toward me, I take a tentative step back.
“It’s okay,” Justin says quietly, “he won’t hurt you, I promise.”
He reaches for my hand that I now have clutched tight to my chest. I resist at first but his gentle touch eases my fear a little as he lowers it right in front of Rosco’s wet nose. Rosco sniffs then licks my clenched fist. I relax my hand and Justin places it on top of the large animal’s head. Rosco sits while I smooth my palm over his soft, slick fur.
“See?” Rosco’s tail wags back and forth against the wood floor. “He likes you.”
I smile, the tension in my muscles easing a little.
“Come on, I’ll show you the rest of the house then your room. I’m sure you’re exhausted.”
As soon as the words leave his mouth, I feel the weight of the last few days crash down around me. The lack of sleep last night didn’t help either.
Walking farther into the home, I can tell right away there is a lot of love here. The kitchen and living area are massive and open. Tons of framed photos adorn the walls and every flat surface available. The home is decorated with a masculine feel, deer heads and ducks mounted high on the walls, but there are feminine touches throughout as well, floral drapes and throw pillows, and a large comfy afghan lining the back of the couch. One wall is covered in bookcases holding tons of books with worn spines and little trinkets scattered along the shelves.
“Does your grandmother live here as well?”
“No, she passed away a long time ago. Soon after Pop had his heart attack and I came to stay with him until he recovered, but once he did, I didn’t want to leave.”
“I wouldn’t want to leave either. This is a beautiful home, Justin.”
“It’s your home now, too.”
Tears prick my eyes. “I haven’t had one of those in a really long time.”
His hand reaches for mine, giving it a gentle squeeze, but he doesn’t say anything else as he leads me upstairs. “Here’s the bathroom.” He flicks on the light and opens the door farther. “Towels are in the closet there and we can go to the store tomorrow to get anything else you might need.”
The corners of my mouth inch upward, completely enamored with his thoughtfulness and generosity.
Then he leads me to the last door on the right at the end of the hall. Justin releases my hand and opens the door. This room, unlike the rest of the house, is very feminine. Lace drapes, floral bedding, and doilies covering the tops of the antique furniture, the spacious room is more than I could ever hope for.
Justin moves to open a set of French doors that lead out to a large deck overlooking the sprawling ranch. The sun sits low in the sky, casting brilliant rays of orange, gold, and pink. I stand at the threshold, taking in the remarkable beauty, Rosco perched at my feet.
“My room is next door so if you need anything, just holler,” Justin says, turning to face me.
I nod, heat creeping up my cheeks. “Thank you again for everything.” Wrapping my arms around his waist, hugging him tight, I do my best to convey my gratitude, but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to repay him for all he’s done for me.
His strong, warm arms hold me close, offering the safety and protection of his embrace, but I feel it so much deeper. I feel it all the way down to my bones.
“Get some rest,” he says, releasing me. Rosco follows behind him, leaving me alone in my new room.
My new home.
My new life.
The following morning, I wake up to the smell of bacon. Sitting up in bed, I drag a hand down my scruffy face and scratch my bare chest. I didn’t get much sleep last night. I had to stop myself from knocking on her door when I heard her soft cries coming through the wall. I knew if I did, I would end up doing far more than just kissing away her tears. And as bad as I wanted to hold and comfort her, I wasn’t about to cross that line. Not yet anyway. I’ve been thinking a lot about what Reid said but I’m not sure if I can resist what I feel for her.
After taking a leak and brushing my teeth, I get dressed and walk downstairs, wandering into the kitchen for a much needed cup of coffee.
“Good morning,” she says, standing in front of the stove, her brown eyes beaming at me. Rosco sits diligently next to her legs, wagging his tail.
“Morning,” I greet her first then give Rosco a good pat on the head and scratch behind his ears.
Jesus, she’s even more beautiful in the morning.
She’s wearing my grandmother’s floral apron and it does some funny shit to my heart that she feels so comfortable in this space. Her eyes roam my body. I like the way she looks at me, a shy smile tugging her lips. Clearing my throat, I walk over to the cabinet and take out a mug to pour myself a cup of coffee.
“How long have you been up?”
“A while,” she says with a shrug. “I didn’t get much sleep last night.”
Abandoning my cup, I step forward, reaching up to touch the dark circles beneath her pretty eyes. “You okay?”
There’s a storm in her eyes, a hurricane of emotions, but she remains as stoic as ever. A force to be reckoned with. For someone who has seen what she has, she’s stronger than anyone I know. Most would not have survived but she did.
“I will be. This is just all new to me and it’ll take some getting used to.”
“It will. But I’ll help you.”
“Thank you,” she whispers quietly, then shifts her eyes to my shoulder. “Did you change your dressing like the nurse instructed?”
“Not yet.”
The way her lips press into a hard line makes me ache to kiss them. “You must change the dressing often to avoid infection,” she scolds.
The worry in her voice strikes me deep and in a way I’ve never felt before. I like that she wants to take care of me. That she’s concerned about me.
�
��Where is the bag the nurse sent home?” she asks.
“Inside of my duffle in the truck. I’ll go grab it.”
“No, you sit. I’ll go get it.” Her stern voice tugs at my cock. If she wasn’t so cute trying to boss me around, I’d argue with her. Instead, I take a seat at the table and remove my arm from the sling.
She disappears into the garage and returns a few minutes later with my duffle, holding it with both hands.
“Jesus, what do you have in here?”
Depositing the bag with a huff next to my feet, I unzip it and retrieve the bag the nurse gave me at the hospital and empty the contents. Gauze, tape, antibiotics, and pain medication tumble out onto the table. Selena makes quick work of organizing it all, reading the labels for distribution.
“You should have taken one of each last night before you went to bed.”
“I’ll take the antibiotic, but I don’t need the pain meds. They make me loopy.”
Besides, she’s the only drug I need right now anyway. I’ve never done drugs a day in my life, but right now, I’m craving this woman’s touch like it’ll be my last hit.
She drops a pill into my hand and walks over to the fridge to grab a bottle of water. After I knock back the medication, I pull my T-shirt over my head with a groan.
Selena licks her lips, eyes widening. My cock twitches in response, wondering if I’ll be able to control myself once she puts her hands on me. Then she takes a step forward; her warm fingers touch my skin as she removes the old dressing, hair tickling my arms as she inspects the wound.
The way she smells tightens my chest and my jeans to the point of pain. I want to bury my face in her neck. Kiss every inch of her dusky skin.
Paint that skin with my seed.
“Looks good. Nice and clean,” she says. “I want to keep it that way. This needs to be changed at least twice a day.”
There’s that stern voice again, stroking at the desire that simmers in my blood.
“You’ve seen a lot of bullet wounds, I take it.”
Her dark eyes dart to mine and she doesn’t even have to answer. I can see it there, the implications of the horrors she must have witnessed at the hands of her father.
“More than I care to remember.”
She finishes dressing the wound and I put my shirt back on.
“You didn’t have to do this.” I stand, motioning toward the spread on the island. She’s gone all out. Everything from fresh fruit to pancakes, bacon and freshly squeezed orange juice.
“Bullshit,” Pop says as he enters the kitchen. “Thank God you’re here, Selena. Been a while since we’ve had a woman’s touch around here, and honestly, my grandson can’t cook for shit.”
“Well, if I am to stay, I want to earn my keep. I d0 not want anything for free,” she says, looking up at me pointedly.
Obviously, this is something she needs to do so I have to respect that, but she’s not the damn help.
“How about you take care of the cooking and cleaning around here in exchange for room and board. Sound fair enough?” Pop offers, and I open my mouth to protest.
She doesn’t have to do a damn thing.
But then she smiles and damn it all to hell, the sight makes my knees weak. It’s then I realize that I will do whatever the hell it takes to keep that light in her eyes. To do everything I can in order to make sure it only shines brighter.
“Thank you so much, Frank.”
He waves his hand back and forth, moving toward the spread on the counter and grabbing himself a plate. “I should be thankin’ you. His cookin’ sucks.”
Selena giggles, quickly covering her mouth to stop it.
“Thanks a lot, Pop,” I say, still holding her gaze.
“I just speak the truth, boy.”
“It’s not that bad,” I tell her.
Pop grunts, shoving a piece of bacon in his mouth. “Should I tell her about the time you tried to make an omelet?”
He shoves another piece of bacon in his mouth, then another, letting out a long moan. “Damn it, boy, that gal can cook.”
“I think now would be a good time to inform you that he can’t eat bacon,” I tell Selena.
Pop’s mouth stops moving, eyes wide with panic. “Don’t listen to him.”
Her gaze shifts back and forth between us as my eyes lock with Pop’s in a silent standoff.
“What do you mean he can’t eat bacon?” she asks.
Pop leans back in his chair, never taking his eyes off me as he reaches over to pluck several more pieces from the massive pile.
The man has no shame.
He devours every piece.
“Clearly, he can, but he’s not supposed to. After his heart attack, Doc put him on a strict diet. Only fruits, veggies, and whole grains, but he doesn’t listen, sneaks and buys bacon and shit all the time. That’s why he hates my cooking, because the food I cook is actually good for you.”
His eyes narrow into slits. “Traitor. Why would you sell me out like that? Your own flesh and blood.” He shakes his head. “You used to be my favorite grandson but now…”
Selena removes the plate from in front of Pop and he groans in protest. When she returns with a banana, I find it hard to keep it together.
“Please. Don’t make me eat it.”
She folds her arms over her chest, giving Pop a stern look. “I will prepare only healthy meals for you. I will not be the cause of another heart attack. Your grandson loves you very much and if anything should happen to you…”
“Fine. I’ll eat whatever you cook, just make sure it has some damn flavor please.”
Selena grins. “I’ll do my best, Frank.”
Then I say the one thing I know will set him off.
“He can have turkey bacon. Forgot about that.”
His nostrils flare with disdain. “How dare you say such a thing in this house.”
I love fucking with him.
“It’s way better for you, Pop.”
“Bullshit. Tastes like goddamn cardboard. If it ain’t real bacon it’s fuckin’ pointless.”
I laugh and Selena joins me. Pop is less than amused. “Go ahead, laugh it up.”
He scoots from the table, leaving his banana behind, mumbling to himself as he puts his hat back on and walks out of the back door.
Once she pulls herself together, her eyes meet mine. “You’re right. He is stubborn.”
“As a damn mule.”
We share another laugh and the way the sun catches her eyes has me wanting to pull her closer so I can get a better look. But I don’t. Content to watch from afar because beauty that powerful has the ability to change a man, alter his universe. I can already feel my world tilting on its axis.
“I was thinking about going into town in a little while. To get you clothes and whatever else you might need.”
Her eyes shift from mine as she stares down at her feet. “I don’t need much.”
Something tells me even the simplest of possessions would bring her an abundance of happiness, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to give her everything her heart has ever desired.
Justin opens the door of his truck for me, holding out his hand to help me in. “Thank you,” I say.
He reaches for the seatbelt, leaning across me to snap it in place. My body reacts to his close proximity, skin tingling with awareness as my breath quickens. Same as it was in the kitchen earlier. Then his eyes catch mine and it’s like there’s a magnet in my lower belly, pulling on something deep inside of me.
When he took his shirt off earlier, I wasn’t sure what to make of the rush I felt throughout my body. Touching his firm skin had sent a thrill racing down my spine and a need I’d never known had been born. The need to know what his body would feel like pressed against mine. What his strong hands would feel like moving across my skin.
The need to know what his mouth would taste like.
My cheeks flush, heat creeping across my flesh with the warm breeze.
His eyes dart to my lips,
and for a brief moment I think he might kiss me. I desperately want him to. My father would kill any man who even looked in my direction. Any prospect of love in his evil world had been impossible but now…
Those deep blue eyes shift away as if it pains him to look at my mouth any longer, then he closes the door to walk around the front of the truck.
My heart sinks in my stomach with the conflicting emotions swirling inside of me.
I’ve never had this kind of response to a man before. The way he looks at me, as if I’m the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, makes every one of my nerve endings come to life. My heart is pounding so hard I feel like it’s about to burst from my chest, and when I look into his eyes, I swear the earth moves beneath my feet.
Justin climbs inside, filling the cab with his large frame and masculine scent. He puts on his own seatbelt and curls one hand around the steering wheel before firing up the engine. Then we set out on the road.
The ride is quiet as I stare out the window, taking in the new scenery. It’s strange not being held under my father’s iron fist. To have free will and to make my own decisions.
A short time later, Justin pulls into the parking lot of a small shopping center. There are several shops in a row, a fabric store, a restaurant, a gun store, and in front of us, a sign above the entrance indicates this store is called the Good Stuff. The open store windows have mannequins adorning beautiful summer dresses, shoes, and accessories.
“My friend Jimmy’s wife owns this place. I called her earlier to let her know we were coming.”
Tears prick my eyes as my throat forms a thick knot. I shake my head, willing them not to fall, but the tears come anyway.
“Hey, what’s the matter?” he asks, lifting my chin to bring my eyes to his. Concern etches his furrowed brow.
