Find Me Series (Book 4): Where Hope is Lost
Page 38
“Yeah,” Drake complained. “You should see what she did to the butt of my rifle. Damn near gnawed an entire corner off.”
Jacks’ sudsy hands froze in the sink and he pivoted around to stare at Drake, but when he saw the mischievous smile on Drake’s face, he grabbed for the closest thing on the counter and chucked it across the room. A damp sponge landed with a plop a good two feet short of its target, and I was struck by the wafting fragrance of lemon and eucalyptus-scented dish soap.
Lily dropped her toy and tried to roll out of my lap, toward the sponge. “Here,” I said to Jacks when he came back into the small living room. “You try, since you boys seem so determined to distract her.”
He settled onto the couch with the baby and began to play with her. “Have you seen Kris yet today?” he asked.
“No…it’s their one month anniversary, remember? They’re on the other side of the island, hiking. At least, that’s what she claimed they were doing. She took the dog,” I said with a scowl.
“Right,” Drake laughed, elbowing Jacks. “Hiking.”
“Don’t,” I warned him. “I’ll throw up.”
After retrieving the sponge, I put Lily’s formula back in the cupboard, wiped the tiled counters clean, and asked Jacks about his day at the airport. He spent ten minutes going into detail about the mechanical work that he and Keel were being trained to do on the tour Jeeps and golf carts, and went on to talk about Wade and the tower communications, the job that Jacks really wanted to get.
“Riley, it’s amazing how many frequencies he can get up there. Some just send back static, others Morse code. Sometimes, there’s an actual person on the other end,” he gushed. “It’s just a matter of time before Lou calls in with another delivery, or someone else wants to land.”
I felt my back stiffen, then relaxed before Drake or Jacks could notice. But when I looked over my shoulder, Drake was watching me carefully. With a smile I hoped was reassuring, I left the kitchen and began to gather up Lily’s favorite things. Her stuffed monkey with the stitched eyes. A washcloth that she liked frozen so she could chew on it. A few toys that either rattled, peeped, or generally freaked Drake out, and one of her socks. The other went missing before lunch, and I had yet to find it. When everything was packed into her bag, Jacks patted on her back until she let out a soft burp, and then balanced her face-down in the crook of his arm, her favorite way to be held. He draped the diaper bag strap around his neck and picked up the half-empty bottle she hadn’t finished.
“God, what I wouldn’t do for a third arm,” he complained, as he shoved his feet back into his boots but didn’t bother to tie them before shuffling out the front door.
“I don’t know, dads are kind of sexy,” I teased him. He shook his ass at me from the walkway and used his foot to carefully kick open the wooden gate.
“Need a hand getting home, buddy? It’s a long walk to your place,” Drake called after him.
Jacks responded by tucking the bottle under his chin so he could flip Drake off before opening the gate next door and plodding up his own walkway. Just before he vanished into the tiny cottage that looked much like mine and Drake’s, he popped his head out.
“Hey, is Jin still doing dinner?” he asked.
“Is that tonight?” I said.
“Is it still Saturday?”
“Yes, I think so,” I answered.
“Then yep, it’s tonight. Come hungry, that new fishing pole of his is awesome,” Jacks beamed, kicking a random toy into his house.
“I don’t eat fish, you know that,” I said, sticking my tongue out at him.
“Fine, come eat salad. Seriously, if you two don’t get out this weekend, I’m sending in a search party.” With a final wave, he darted into his house, then cursed loudly after stepping on one of Lily’s loudest toys.
“That man,” Drake said, shaking his head.
“He’s adorable, I know,” I quipped. “Are we going out tonight?” I asked, closing the front door.
“I was hoping we’d stay in…finish what we started earlier…” His voice trailed off as his hands darted up my shirt.
“Okay, I’ll get into something more comfortable,” I said with a smirk.
When I came back into the living room, the first shadows of evening were starting to show, and I padded across the living room floor barefoot, wearing one of Drake’s t-shirts and a pair of his boxers.
“Sexy,” he said with a wink. “Made some popcorn.”
“Perfect.” I settled into place beside him and pulled a thin blanket over our laps. “What episode did we leave off on?”
He flipped the Blu-ray case to the back and scanned the list. “I can’t remember…it’s the one where that creepy-ass monster climbed into the porta-potty. The thing with that sucker mouth.”
“Yes! The Flukeman episode…one of my favorites. Hey, share the popcorn.” When he held the bowl up and away from me, I yanked on his arm. It didn’t budge.
“I can’t believe you’re making me watch this,” he complained. “I’ll never shit in one of those things again.”
“Popcorn,” I demanded a second time. When he kept the bowl out of reach, I crawled onto his lap and licked the butter off his chin.
“Isn’t this what happened last night?” he asked, laughing as I nibbled hungrily on his lower lip. “I thought you wanted me to watch this crap.” His tongue darted out, teasing mine with its buttery taste.
“It’s not crap, it was an essential part of my youth. How you made it through the 90s without watching one episode baffles me. Are you going to share the popcorn, or not?” My hand glided up his bicep, which was still holding the bowl above his head.
“Not if you keep bouncing around on my lap like that,” he said, nipping at my mouth.
“Like what?” I shifted my weight between his legs and his ab muscles clenched.
“Nope, no popcorn for you,” he said, setting the bowl onto the table with a loud clang. “And no clothes, either. I want my shirt back.”
When I fell back onto the cushion, I let the blanket slide off my legs and played with the hem along the collar of my top. “If you want it, you’ll have to come and get it.”
THE END OF BOOK 4
About the Author
Trish was born and mostly raised in San Diego, California where she lives now with her family and pets. She's been writing short stories and poetry since high school and began her first book in December of 2011. When Trish isn't writing, she's homeschooling her amazing daughter and mildly Autistic son, reading whatever she can get her hands on, practicing yoga, or enjoying the Southern California sun. As a strict Vegetarian, Trish holds a special place in her heart for animal rights, and has three dog rescues and a kitty boy who thinks he’s a canine.
Follow Trish online for more TMDBooks info:
@Trish_Dawson
WriterTrishMarieDawson
www.writertrishmariedawson.com
authortmdawson@gmail.com
Also by Trish Marie Dawson
The Find Me Series
I Hope You Find Me
Lost and Found
Finding Hope
Also by Trish Marie Dawson
The Station Series
Dying to Forget
Dying to Remember
Dying to Return
Dying to Know
Niles, A Novelette
Mallory, A Novelette
Kerry-Anne, A Novelette
Also by Trish Marie Dawson
Hutch and A’ris Series
The Dry Lands
Collaborations
Visions of the Fall, I Hope You Find Me
The Bitten, Madness
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