First Comes Love

by Heather Heyford

  Meanwhile, Travis zigged and zagged unselfconsciously in the grass, the toy plane Alex had bought him in his outstretched hand . . . a runty-looking kid, lost in his fantasy world, yet careful never to let Tyler out of his sight.

  “Do they talk about their parents? Their foster parents?”

  “If I ask about them. Otherwise, no. It’s like that old song, you and me against the world. Like they’re a family of two and have been for a while.”

  Alex didn’t like thinking about before the boys were his. He was focused on the future. “It’s amazing, isn’t it? Look at how Ty and Trav are in constant motion. And there’s Shay sitting cross-legged on her towel, talking nonstop with the other girls her age, and Chloé is so patient with Ella and her ball,” said Alex.

  “I bought toy trucks for Shay when she was little and she never touched them,” mused Kerry, jaw resting in one hand, twirling her headband around on the index finger of the other. “By the time Chloé and Ella came along, I just stuck with the tried-and-true—My Little Pony and Dora.”

  Alex’s hands worked the stiff leather of a brand-new baseball mitt. “I swear, those guys never run out of gas. Trying to keep up with them wears me out more than running ever did.”

  “They’re two lucky little boys.” Beneath the table edge, Kerry placed her hand on his thigh. “Don’t get a big head, Detective, but fatherhood becomes you.”

  “You’re one sexy mama, yourself,” he said, setting the mitt aside, draping his arm around her shoulders and giving it a squeeze.

  “Just one thing. When are we ever going to find another chance to . . . you know.”

  They’d become expert at stealing moments wherever and whenever they could. Standing up in the kitchen while the girls were outside playing. In Alex’s unmarked police car. Once, even in Kerry’s office in the middle of the day with the door locked.

  He grinned. “What are you trying to say, Ms. Eloquent?”

  She pursed her lips and elbowed him in the ribs.

  “Have sexy time.”

  “Ohhhh,” he said, tilting his nose to the sky. “You mean, go heels to Jesus?”

  She grinned despite herself. “Is that what you call it?”

  “Waka waka. Sweeping the chimney. Threading the needle. Whatever. We’re going to have to come up with a code word.”

  “I vote thumbs-down to all of those.” She laughed like confetti falling.

  He squeezed her again. “There’s always sign language.” With his other hand, he reached around and pinched her rear, and she squealed and jumped.

  “Hey.” He nodded toward a fringe of shrubbery around the pool fence. “How about those bushes over there?”

  “What? Now? Are you crazy?”

  “Crazy about you,” he said, and he kissed her.

  “Hey. Look at that.”

  Alex followed Kerry’s eyes, where little Travis hesitated on the end of the board.

  “Can he swim?” asked Kerry.

  “Like a fish,” replied Alex with a ridiculous pride.

  “But can he dive?”

  “Looks like he’s trying to. He’ll do almost anything to be like his big brother.”

  Alex cupped his mouth with his hands. “Go for it, little buddy!”

  Travis hurled himself into the air.

  “Gaaa!” moaned Alex, blocking out the sight of Travis’s Superman-in-flight pose with raised arms. “What was that?”

  Kerry winced when Travis hit the water in a spectacular belly flop.

  “That hurt,” said Alex, getting up.

  Kerry set her hand on his arm. “Don’t.”

  “Didn’t you see that belly flopper?”

  “Wait and see how he is.”

  She could almost feel Alex’s struggle to keep still while he watched Travis climb out of the pool, arms folded around his stomach, and head to his balled-up towel lying in the grass.

  “He’s hurting.”

  “Just wait and see before you run over.”

  Three girls Shay’s age huddled on the pool deck, whispering and pointing at Travis.

  Now Kerry rose, too. “That’s Helena Young. The girl who was tormenting Shay last spring.”

  “This is bullshit.” Alex took off with Kerry close on his heels.

  But Shay beat them to it. Stomping over to Helena, she jammed her fists on her hips and thrust her face into the other girl’s. “Stop it!”

  On the other side of the pool, Kerry and Alex stopped in their tracks.

  “What’s your damage? You’ve been making fun of Travis since we got here. What kind of a person makes fun of a little kid? He can’t help it he did a belly flop. Everyone’s watching you, you know. Everyone! And they don’t think you’re cool at all, or funny. They think you’re sad and pathetic and you have no life. So how ’bout next time you think about making fun of someone, think about that, why don’t you?”

  Alex’s body surged forward, but Kerry stopped him with a hand on his biceps.

  Helena looked around to see every pair of eyes on her. She smirked at Shay before turning to skulk off. But when she looked for her friends for support, they’d begun distancing themselves by degrees.

  Shay went over to where Travis and now Tyler stood, and put her arm around the younger boy.

  Alex told Kerry, “I’ll let Shay bask in her glory. But I’m going to catch up with that Helena girl and tell her I have my eye on her.”

  Now more kids were gathering around Travis and Shay, offering their shy support.

  “A chat with her parents from law enforcement is in order, too,” said Alex.

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Travis and Tyler were practicing the boxing moves Alex had taught them.

  “Guys!” he yelled. “Do you have to do that in the middle of the living room? I’m trying to concentrate.”

  They stopped what they were doing immediately. “Where else are we supposed to go?” Tyler panted.

  Suddenly, he was filled with guilt. “I don’t know,” he said. “Go outside, why don’t you?”

  “It’s raining,” said Tyler.

  He knew that.

  Their bedroom was barely big enough to hold two twin beds.

  Alex sighed and closed his laptop. The whole idea of blogging was to post regularly. To condition readers to expect interesting, fresh content. If you didn’t, you risked losing them to those who did. He hadn’t worked on his wine blog since he’d gotten the boys. At this rate, he might as well hang it up.

  “Tell you what. Let’s make something.”

  “Yeah!” Travis perked up in anticipation. “What are we going to make?”

  “Birdhouses.”

  He stopped hopping around and looked at Tyler. “Birdhouses? How come?”

  Alex could tell by their faces what they were thinking: Who cares about birdhouses?

  “Birds need homes, just like people.”

  “Their nests are their homes,” said Tyler.

  “That’s true. Some build their nests in trees. But others, like bluebirds, prefer the shelter of a birdhouse. It makes them feel safe, and protects them from predators. You can imagine what happens when a big wind comes up. The exposed nest might fall out of the tree. But the nest in a strong wooden box will never blow away.

  “Let’s go on out to the patio. There’s a closet there for rakes and tools and things.”

  “Do we get to do it ourselves?” asked Tyler eagerly.

  How old did you have to be to learn to hammer? Alex had no clue. All he knew was that he wanted to bond with the kids, and he wanted them to be happy.

  “We’ll take it step by step.”

  Alex showed them a diagram of the finished project and the dimensions. Then he sawed a three-quarter-inch length of cedar into thirds, giving each boy a piece of wood, a pencil, and a ruler, and told them to keep in mind the old adage, to measure twice and cut once. “Tomorrow, after they’re finished, we’ll go out in the woods and you can each pick a spot to hang yours.”

  Then he took his
own piece of wood and, congratulating himself on his teaching skills, set to work.

  The boys looked at each other. Then they studied Alex. Tyler took a stab at drawing a line the way Alex had.

  A minute or so later, Alex happened to glance over at the hopelessly wavy lines he had attempted.

  Travis’s board was still blank.

  “Don’t you know how to use a ruler?” he joked.

  Travis bit his lip and shrank behind Tyler.

  And that’s when Alex realized they didn’t know any such thing.

  He sighed. He was going to have to break this down into itty-bitty parts. That meant that no way would they be finished today. Or even, tomorrow. In fact, this was going to take forever.

  So be it.

  “I’ll be right back,” he said.

  He went in and got the sheaf of paper he kept in his printer.

  “Okay, men,” he said when he returned, handing them each a few sheets. “Grab your pencils and your rulers and gather round. I’m going to show you how to draw a straight line.”

  Once they had gotten the hang of that, Alex showed them what each little line meant on the ruler. “I can’t believe they didn’t teach you this in school,” he said.

  Tyler shook his head. “We don’t learn anything hands-on. It’s all tests.”

  “Well, then, I guess you’ll just have to learn here, at ho—”

  Three pairs of eyes met.

  Alex cleared his throat. “Home.”

  The boys grinned.

  Alex frowned. “You lost a tooth.”

  Travis tongued the hole in his gum. “I know.”

  “When did that happen?”

  “Last night.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  His smile vanished. “Am I in trouble?”

  “No, you aren’t in trouble. It’s just that we have to put it under your pillow so the tooth fairy will come.”

  Ty and Trav exchanged looks.

  “You’re weird,” said Travis, his tongue visible between the spaces in his teeth.

  “I can’t believe you don’t know about the tooth fairy. How many—never mind. Did you keep it?”

  “Keep what?”

  “The tooth.”

  “No.”

  “What’d you do with it?”

  “I swallowed it.”

  “Swallow—” Alex’s head fell into his hand.

  Travis giggled.

  Tyler grinned.

  Alex sighed and shook his head. “Good thing you guys came to live with me when you did. Where were we? Right. Looks like we’re ready to saw. Travis, you go first. Just let me brace this plank—”

  He should really have a vise. But back in what he now thought of as the old days, the idea of owning a complete set of tools had seemed somehow stifling. Besides, there wasn’t much to sawing a short, straight cut.

  “—and you hold the saw like this, and now just—

  “Ow!” Alex winced and shook his finger. “God-dammi—” He stuck it in his mouth to stanch the bleeding.

  The boys grinned.

  “Oh, it’s hilarious. Is there anything you guys don’t think is funny? Hold on. I’ll be right back, as soon as I get a Band-Aid.”

  * * *

  Saturday night, all seven of them—Alex, Ty, and Trav, and Kerry, Shay, Chloé, and Ella—prepared to gather around Kerry’s antique dining room table.

  Chaos reigned in the old farmhouse as Kerry passed out paper plates and yelled at Shay and Chloé for speed walking carrying glasses brimming with water from the sink to the dining room. Then Kerry lit the candles stuck in two wine bottles, their shoulders running with layers of multicolored wax.

  “What happened to your finger?” Chloé asked.

  He had wadded up tissue under the Band-Aid, making it appear worse than it was. He shook his head gravely. “Not sure you could handle it. It’s pretty gross. A lot of blood.”

  “Ew!” Chloé leaned forward, fascinated. “Tell me.”

  “Men? What do you say? Do you think Chloé has the stomach for a tale of gore and guts?”

  “No way!” laughed Travis and Tyler.

  “Yes!” Chloé shouted.

  All three girls began pounding on the table while chanting, “Tell us! Tell us! Tell us!”

  Hobo started barking.

  “All right, all right. It was like this . . .”

  The kids couldn’t stop howling as Alex described to Shay and Chloé in exaggerated detail the story of how Travis had savagely wounded him with a giant saw.

  Kerry moved around in the background like the calm center of the storm. Alex was having so much fun being the center of a laughing tribe of monkeys, he scarcely took notice when she set a glass down in front of him.

  “And that’s when Travis, here, decided to saw my finger off—”

  “No, I didn’t!” shouted Travis, giggling, pizza falling out of his dentally challenged mouth onto the red-and-white-checked tablecloth. “I did not!”

  Ella gazed around the table, not comprehending yet fascinated all the same.

  Alex took a sip of wine. “And then, while I was on the floor writhing in agony, I screamed to Tyler to rip a sheet up into strips and told him how to tie on a tourniquet—” He stopped in midsentence, his brows knitted together, and held his wineglass up to the light. He took another small sip, letting it swirl around in his mouth.

  “What?” pressed Chloé. “Tell us! What happened next?”

  “Wow!”

  Kerry, finally scooting in her chair across from Alex and placing her napkin on her lap, paused.

  “Have you tasted this?” he asked her.

  “Not yet. Hank only released it in May.” She put her nose into her glass and sniffed, and her eyes grew round. “Lovely nose.” She tasted it. “Balanced, with great length.”

  Alex took another drink. “It’s a revelation.” He picked up the bottle and read the label. Then he smelled his wine again and raised his free hand in frustration. “Damn! I wish I could describe the taste. I can pick out the separate components, but at the same time I can smell the blend. I’ve never tasted anything like this. It’s fantastic. It’s like—synergy! Greater than the sum of its parts. I finally get it! I can’t wait to write about this in my blog.”

  Kerry’s eyes danced. “Cheers!” She reached across the table and they touched glasses to the ringing of crystal.

  Shay and Chloé clinked water glasses. “Cheers,” they aped.

  “Cheers,” said Travis and Tyler, touching their glasses, grinning from ear to ear.

  “Has everyone toasted?” said Alex. “It’s bad luck to leave anyone out. Look each person in the eye, and don’t cross anyone else’s arm or it’s seven years of bad sex—luck.”

  Kerry tried to give Alex a stern look and failed miserably.

  The clinking continued around the table with water sloshing, more giggles erupting.

  “Not too hard, kids,” said Kerry. “We don’t want any more bloodshed today.”

  Amid the ruckus, Alex sipped his wine and rolled his eyes up into his head in pleasure. “Better than sex,” he mouthed to Kerry.

  Her face glowed in the candlelight. She lifted a brow, as if to say, Really? We’ll see about that.

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Ella was already asleep, while the other kids were kicking a soccer ball around out in the yard. Alex disposed of the paper plates and shook the tablecloth, then came up behind Kerry as she was washing the glasses and encircled her waist with his hands and peered over her shoulder.

  “No sooner do I think of something that needs to be done and the next thing I know, here you are, doing it.”

  “After all these years, I’m used to cleaning up after myself. Didn’t your ex help out around the house?”

  “When he did, he turned it into a main event. He thought he deserved a trophy.”

  “Not to ruin any inroads I’ve made, but you could use a dishwasher. A mechanical one, not a human.”

  Kerry remem
bered his surprise when he’d first found out the farmhouse didn’t have one.

  “Hurry up and finish that,” he murmured as he gathered her hair from her neck and kissed her nape.

  Her head fell forward and her hands stilled in the soapy water. The rambling house with its many additions had felt somehow hollow since she’d returned to it. But Alex’s bold presence filled it up. Maybe it was pheromones . . . his utter maleness in her all-female household.

  Or maybe, just maybe, Alex wasn’t like the others. Maybe the third time really was the charm.

  His hands slid around her waist, one cupping her breast, the other, the V where her thighs met.

  Then he turned her around to face him.

  Her wrists draped over his shoulders, dripping water.

  “My hands are wet.”

  “Who cares? We’re alone. Seize the moment.” He folded her body into his and kissed her deeply.

  Rapid footsteps, followed by the slam of the screen door, forced them apart.

  “Tell Shay you have to have both feet on the ground when you do a throw-in,” panted Tyler, crimson-faced and frowning.

  “Arrrgh.” Alex’s head fell back in frustration. “Can’t you guys figure it out for yourselves?”

  “Shay thinks she knows the rules of soccer, but she doesn’t.”

  “Go on back outside. We’ll be out in a minute,” said Kerry.

  As Tyler skulked out, Kerry eyed Alex up and down, still trying to put a name to what it was that had every old wall and fixture in her childhood home feeling fresh and new, then tilted her chin up for another of his blazing-hot kisses.

  “I wish these long summer nights never had to end,” she said.

  He didn’t reply. He was too preoccupied with nuzzling her temple and getting his hands up into her shirt in the back, fumbling with the hooks of her bra.

  She lowered her arms, effectively blocking him. “We can’t do that right now.”

  “Who says?” he mouthed against her skin, trailing kisses down her neck.

  “I says. Listen to me. There’s something I want to talk to you about. School’s going to start soon. Then there’s going to be homework and bedtimes and cold weather coming.”

  “And . . . ?”