Church Bells

by Jennifer Rebecca

  “Plus, dinner is just pot roast and potatoes, it’s better if it sits a minute,” Edna tells me immediately putting me at ease.

  “I brought you a pie,” I say shyly.

  “Pie, you say?” Mr. Savage says. “What kind of pie?”

  “Fresh strawberry pie, Dad,” Tanner answers.

  “Like Maw maw’s?” he asks his son.

  “Better, but if you tell her I said that I’ll beat your ass with her wooden spoon after she gets done beating mine,” Tanner says, and his dad laughs.

  “Tanner!” I gasp.

  “Hush your mouth, you naughty child!” Edna chastises but I can tell she doesn’t mean it because she’s laughing.

  “It’s true though,” she says to me. “That old hag would beat them both if she thought they like your pie better. I hope she does. They both deserve it.” And with that she takes the pie from my hands and wraps her arm around me before leading me into their beautiful home.

  “Mom and Maw maw have never really gotten along all that well,” Tanner says to me in explanation.

  “Now, Mama’s not that bad,” Mr. Savage says by way of explanation. Tanner and Edna eye him dubiously.

  “She’s worse,” Edna laughs. “Come on in and sit down. What would y’all like to drink?” she asks us.

  “I have wine, beer, coke . . .” Mr. Savage adds.

  “Beer, dad. I’ll come with you,” Tanner tells him. “Darlin’?” he asks me.

  “Water is fine,” I smile at him. “Can I help you with anything, Mrs. Savage?” I ask Tanner’s mom. She smiles brightly at me as if I had just won the Nobel Peace Prize.

  “Absolutely,” she claps. “Follow me. Everything is done, it’s just putting it on the table.”

  I follow Edna into the kitchen and help her carry a huge bowl of salad and a big basket of hot rolls while she carries in the mother of all pot roasts and a tray of baked potatoes. My mouth waters at the sights and smells in front of me. Growing up as poor as we were didn’t leave nights for meals like this.

  The men walk back into the room with drinks in their hands and huge smiles on their faces. Their eyes light up when they see the spread before them. I take it Edna is an amazing cook by the looks on their faces.

  Tanner walks around the table and sets a huge glass of ice water with a lemon wedge in it at a place setting and then pulls the chair out for me. I look up at him through my lashes. He’s so kind and shows me in small ways that he cares for me. He winks at me making me blush before turning and taking the seat next to me.

  We say grace and then tuck into our meals, which are amazing. Tanner’s parents aren’t ones to let silence at the dinner table go by, filling it with love and laughter for their son and welcoming me into their home with grace and kindness.

  “Did I tell you about the time Tanner shit in the front yard?” Mr. Savage asks me before attempting to launch into what has to be the most embarrassing story from Tanner’s childhood.

  “Umm . . . no,” I laugh.

  “Dad!” Tanner laugh shouts.

  “He said if it was good enough for his dog, Waffles, it was good enough for him. Just dropped his britches right there in the front yard and went to town in front of God and everyone,” he laughs. Tanner hangs his head, but I can tell he’s laughing too. When I turn and look at him the sparkle in his eyes is breathtaking and stops the laugh right in my chest.

  “Don’t stop,” he says for my ears only.

  “Stop what?” I ask.

  “Laughing. You should always laugh. You’re beautiful always, but you’re breathtaking when you laugh.”

  Chapter 10

  Tanner

  TONIGHT’S THE NIGHT.

  Tonight, I’m taking Abby to the high school football game, which is a big deal here in Mason, but also in all of Texas. It’s Friday Night Lights in the flesh, but also, because I’m taking her home with me after the game.

  I’m not saying she has to sleep with me—although that would be awesome—I’m just saying she needs to sleep under my roof. I cannot in good conscience take her back to that motel one more night. Abby has never once complained. I know that she’s saving for her own apartment, but I need her with me. I want to give this girl the world at her feet. She deserves everything I have to give, especially, as I’ve recently come to discover, my heart.

  I want—no, I need—to take care of her. And I have this feeling that if anyone deserved to be cared for and spoiled a bit, it’s Abby.

  She has never asked me for a thing, but the way that she looks at me when I hold open a door for or buy her a big ass pumpkin makes me want to do little things like that for her every day. But I can’t keep taking her to the motel. It’s not bad per se, it’s just not a home. A woman like Abby need a kitchen to bake in and a front porch to watch the sunset from. A big bedroom to make love to her man in. I can give her all of those things.

  The motel is well kept, but old. It offers little rooms with one to two beds and a small bathroom with a coffeemaker on the counter—but not much more than that. She deserves better than that.

  I pull my truck into the parking lot of the motel for hopefully the last time and kill the engine of my truck. I slam the door closed and race up the stairs, eager to see my girl. I knock on the door and she pulls it opened with a smile on her face.

  “Ready to go?” I ask her. She’s adorable in black leggings and those funny, fluffy boots girls like too much. She has an oversized flannel shirt on top and it makes up a cute package. The top covers her ass but as she moves I catch little glimpses of it encased in those tight leggings and I’m as hard as a patrolman’s baton.

  “Just a second,” she says looking a little concerned. “I can’t seem to find my favorite jacket.”

  “Where did you leave it?” I ask.

  “Right here,” she says as she points to the chair in the corner of the room. “I could swear I left it right there.”

  “It’ll turn up,” I tell her. “So, I was thinking . . .” I hedge.

  “Yeah?” she asks as she turns to look at me.

  “I was thinking you might try staying with me tonight,” I start and when she opens her mouth to protest I jump back in. “You can sleep in the spare room. It doesn’t have to be in my bed. I just hate that you’re staying here. Not because it’s shitty which it is, kind of, but because you deserve so much better.”

  “Someone once said the same thing to me, but he didn’t have my best intentions at heart,” she says sadly in a soft voice, almost too quiet to hear.

  “I swear to you that I do,” I promise.

  She seems to think about it for a minute before deciding to trust me. “Okay, Tanner,” she says. “I’ll try one night with you,” she purrs as she runs her hand across my chest. The move is so whisper soft I almost missed it. My cock did not. “Besides, I need to know, how big is your bed?” she says before grabbing a sweatshirt off of the bed and walking out the door leaving me standing there in her wake feeling like I was just bowled over by a tornado.

  I follow her down the stairs and to my truck once my dick starts sharing the blood flow in my body with my brain again. I manage to make it there in time to open the door for her and help her up into the truck.

  The drive to the stadium is lined with banners celebrating the boys in red. Each son of Mason has a sign with their name and number lining the driveway to the parking lot.

  We pull into the lot that’s full of cars and trucks all sporting rally signs and pennants for the Bulldogs. I park the truck in the first available spot and grab the flannel blanket from the backseat that now holds some of my most favorite memories.

  I hop out of the truck and walk around to the passenger side. I open the door and Abby is waiting for me with the sweetest smile on her face, it does something in my chest. I wrap my hands around her waist but this time, when I pluck her from the cab, she wraps her arms around my neck and leaps. And I catch her like I know I will every damn time. I will always be there to catch her no matter what.


  I hand Abby the tickets and tuck her into my side, under my arm. I would be lying if I said she wasn’t made to be next to me. On our way through the gates, she seems to see something and freeze, before visibly shaking off her fear.

  “Everything alright, darlin’?” I ask her.

  “Y-yeah,” she says. “I just thought I saw an old ghost for a minute.”

  We make our way into the stadium to my regular seats—in Texas, we have season tickets for high school football—where my parents are seated as well.

  “Are you hungry, darlin’?” I ask her.

  “Are you offering to get me snacks?” she smiles at me.

  “Of course.” I wink. “I heard it was the key to your heart.”

  “Then you heard correctly.” She laughs her tinkling bell laugh and I love it. I want to see it every damn day. The sound of it sets my world to rights every time.

  “Did I ever tell you about the time Tanner got kicked out of preschool for showing everyone his little baby ding-a-ling?” Dad asks Abby. Jesus Christ, here we go again.

  “It’s not little, Dad!” I laugh.

  “Sure it’s not, Son,” he says through his laughter before turning to Abby. “So did I every tell you about his little baby peep show?”

  “No,” she laughs. “But I’d love to hear about Tanner’s life of crime before he became a law man.” She winks at me.

  “I’m just going to take this moment to go buy some snacks before kickoff,” I tell them before I turn on my heels and run like hell all to the tune of Abby and my parent’s laughter.

  By the time I return to the stands with drinks and popcorn in tow, I set them down and we all stand for the anthem and then kickoff. Tonight, the Mason Bulldogs are playing the Tall Pines War Eagles, a town in East Texas when my buddy, Sam, used to coach before he was killed in a car accident.

  Tall Pines is the reigning state champs and the team to beat, but Mason is holding their own. And Abigail is yelling like a longshoreman. I have never laughed harder, especially when my mom chimed in and started screaming just as loud, if not louder. I also learned that both my sweet mama and my gentle girl both have ahem . . . advanced vocabularies.

  When the buzzer rings and clock times out, the Eagles beat the Bulldogs, but we lost with class and heart. Abigail was devastated as we drove back to my house. When we pull into the driveway she looks positively forlorn.

  “You gonna be alright, honey?” I ask her.

  “Yeah, I guess so,” she sighs. “I just didn’t know I was going to get so . . . invested.” I can’t help but laugh at her seriousness.

  “The Eagles are the State Champs, baby. They’re the top dogs. It was awesome that we kept the score so close.”

  “Yeah, that was really awesome.” She nods.

  “Let’s go inside,” I say and her eyes heat as she looks at me.

  “Yes, let’s go inside.”

  I lean in and let my mouth touch hers ever so softly, letting the tip of my tongue touch her bottom lip just for a second, before I pull back and step down from the truck. I jog around the front and open the passenger door for Abby, pulling her down from the cab. I take her hand in mine and together we run for the front door like teenagers who have the whole world at their feet—not an old Marine who has lost too many of his friends and a woman who trusted a man so wrong he took his hands to her—we’re just us, Abby and Tanner.

  I push open the door for her and she runs inside. I follow behind her, locking the door. When I turn around, she’s stripping out of the flannel shirt, opening one button at a time. And I think I might have died a little. But in all the best ways.

  I reach behind my neck and pull my t-shirt over my head dropping it on the floor. Abby’s eyes go wide as she takes in my chest, scars and all, and then her beautiful brown eyes turn smoky and I charge, bending at the waist, I toss her up over my shoulder and she lets out a peal of laughter and a shriek as I run towards my bedroom at the back of the house.

  I slide her down my body and set her on her feet next to the bed. She looks at me and then pulls her tank top over her head revealing her pink lace bra that I saw when she was so nervous before our first date that she forgot to put her bra on. That memory gives me pause. The last thing I want to do is rush her in any way.

  “Are you sure?” I ask her. “It’s not too late to stop. I’ll always stop if you ask me to.”

  “I don’t want you to stop,” she says as she unbuckles my belt and pulls it free from my jeans before dropping it to the floor.

  Her delicate hands pop the button on my pants and then slide the zipper down. I step out of them and then kick them to the side before scooping Abigail up in my arms and carrying her the rest of the way to the bed like the precious cargo that she is.

  I lay her down on the bed and then cover her with my body, bracing my weight on my arms. And then I kiss her like I was always meant to—slow and deep. I’m determined to take my time. Slowly, I kiss my way down her body stopping to peel her pretty pink bra down her shoulders. Her breasts are lush and firm, and I could easily get lost in them but that is for another time. This is about Abigail.

  I continue to kiss a path down her body until my mouth meets the waist of her leggings that will star in my dreams for a long, long time. I slowly pull them down her legs, taking her panties with them exposing all of her to my gaze.

  I gently push her legs wide and then settle in between them. I trace her core with my fingertip and I hear her breath catch as I lick and kiss at her most secret places. Abby whimpers and clutches the sheets in her hands as she inches closer and closer to the edge of her orgasm, but this isn’t a sprint, it’s a marathon. I slide a finger in deep as I roll her clit into my mouth and it’s all she needs to drop over the edge.

  “Tanner,” she says her voice raspy. “I need you.”

  “You have me,” I tell her as I push my boxer briefs down my legs before settling on my knees between her thighs.

  I reach over to the nightstand and pull a condom from the drawer. I rip the foil packet open with my teeth before rolling the latex down over my cock. She holds her arms out to me and I happily lower myself into her warm embraces.

  She arches her back as I slide into her slowly, oh so slowly, and then wait. Her nails bite into my shoulders as she silently tells me what she needs, and I will gladly give it to her every day for the rest of my life.

  I pull back and rock into her waiting body over and over until we find a rhythm that we both enjoy. The heat of her body sucks me in and I am lost to the moment. I am lost to her, only her as I pump my cock into her over and over and she meets me thrust for thrust.

  Before long, she tips her head back and calls out my name as she comes, “Tanner.” and it’s the sexiest sound I have ever heard.

  “Abigail,” I shout as I follow her over the edge.

  I roll to my back taking her with me as we let our breaths slow and the sweat on our bodies cools. She traces over the circular scars on my side and chest with the tip of her finger in the moonlight.

  “What happened?” she asks. When I don’t answer right away she says, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.

  “You should ask,” I say softly. “I was shot.” Her body tenses and I can tell that she is upset. It is upsetting to know that someone you’re intimate with, someone you’re growing to care for was shot.

  “As a Ranger?” she asks.

  “No,” I explain. “We were on patrol during deployment. My team got some bad intel and we were ambushed. I was shot and my friend, Will died.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “There’s nothing to be sorry for. It was over ten years ago,” I tell her.

  “Do they bother you?” she asks, and I wonder if she’s asking about my scars or her own.

  “The scars don’t define us, Abigail. They’re just part of the journey.” That seems to relax her as it does me because it’s true but also because we both needed the reminder. She curls up like a kitten in my arms and drifts off to sleep. I
wrap my arms around her and do the same, more at peace than I have ever been.

  Chapter 11

  Tanner

  Two weeks later . . .

  I COULDN’T WIPE THE SMILE from my face if I tried. Life with Abigail is anything but boring. I should have known it would all come crashing down.

  I sit down at my desk in the station with a smile on my face. I had a great couple of dates with Abigail and I can’t wait to see her again.

  My fax machine starts beeping with an incoming message, but then it freezes, not printing anything with no sign of who it’s from. I sigh before slapping the side of the geriatric machine in hopes to get it moving along with no such luck.

  I move along, writing up my reports that are due to headquarters and then look to the stack of files on my desk to see what needs to be looked at next when my desk phone rings.

  “Savage-Ranger Division,” I bark into my phone.

  “Hey, Magic. Long time no talk,” my old unit commander says into the phone. I had heard he was the Sheriff now somewhere in East Texas.

  “What’s up, Ghost? How’s it been?” I ask recognizing Holt’s voice anywhere.

  “Not too bad,” he says, and I can hear the smile in his voice. “I got married and adopted twin boys.”

  “You’re kidding,” I say. Glad to hear he’s settled and happy. If anyone deserves it, it’s Holt. His twin brother, Will, was killed overseas more than a decade ago when we were ambushed on a routine patrol. “Who’s the lucky lady?” I ask.

  “Aliza Wilson, Stone now,” he says. I recognize the name. Wilson was in our unit too and happily married to Aliza with a couple of kids. I had heard last year that he and their girls were killed by a drunk driver. It’s a reminder that life can be cruel, and we need to live in the moment.

  “I was sorry to hear about Sam,” I tell him. Holt and Sam had been best friends their entire lives, growing up in the same small town. “But I’m glad to hear that everything is going great for you both.”

  “It means a lot to hear that,” Holt says then after a slight pause, “But this isn’t a social call.”