by Siera London
Beck turned his back to her and the Captain to address Cutler.
“I'd appreciate you addressing my wife by her proper title, boy.”
“Well, damn,” the Captain muttered under his breath. “Cutler, I’m handling this,” her new boss said as he stepped forward.
“Yea, Cutler. Pretty boy like yourself,” Beck jibbed, “I'm sure you can find another man's woman to sniff around.”
Cutler took a step forward, a sly grin on his handsome face. “I think I'll keep sniffing around the one I got.”
Beck stiffened unused to being challenged. Then she saw the change in his demeanor and knew he was about to hurl a curve ball. Kendall stood immobile, not sure how to keep this train on the track.
“Well now, Kendall, it looks like you got yourself a Captain America type,” Beck chuckled. “Think he'll still want you after I press charges for assault and conspiracy to harm an officer of the law?”
“What are you talking about?” Cutler asked.
The Captain regarded her. A sinking feeling dropped in her belly. Good heavens, between the fire and this daytime soap opera drama, she should start reviewing online job postings today.
“This is not the time or place for domestic disputes.” The Captain looked squarely at her.
At least their marriage squabbles at DF&R happened without her boss in a front row seat. With her humiliation complete, Kendall took a step toward Beck, ready to throw him out of the firehouse.
Cutler snagged her wrist. His hold tight, but not bruising.
“Don’t worry, Captain. Nobody in this dispute is domesticated.” Cutler’s words held more warning than reassurance.
“You’re right about that, boy. Kendall's a little reckless. Aren’t you, wife?” Beck laughed, the sound harsh.
Her skin tightened, the cells in her body stilled because she knew what he'd say next.
“I've always liked that about her until she hired a couple of thugs to rough me up.” Beck turned cold eyes in her direction. “I guess it’s the native spirit in her. I miss our sparring, suga'.”
Cutler stared at her, his face unreadable.
“You paid—”
Cutler stopped short when she all but nailed his male anatomy to the wall with her eyes.
A smirk covered Beck’s haggard face. “Yep, my lovely wife is a true public servant. Finding novel ways to employ the underbelly of society.”
Kendall held her head high. Cutler had to know she would have never taken such drastic actions if Beck had threatened her after he nearly killed her. After she tried to move out of their house, he’d found her. One visit from Chief Aisles and she needed an emergency room and a cast on her left forearm. Gordon had recognized her from one of the many social events she attended that first year of their marriage. He offered to help her, but she’d turned him down the first time. She was thankful for his persistence.
Cutler looked away from her, meeting Beck’s arrogant smile.
“Kendall may have been your wife in the past, but I can promise you, bubba, she's mine now.”
To prove his point, he snagged her around the waist, hauling her up close to his body. Oh, he was still in her corner.
“Go get your things, Red. Our shift is over and I'm taking you home.”
Beck reached for her, but Cutler was quicker at stepping in front of her.
“If you touch my woman, fire and rescue won't be able to save your sorry ass,” Cutler growled.
Well, today was off to an interesting start.
Chapter Nine
Cutler entered Hobo Alley, tossing his keys on the highboy tabletop. Thank the stars that Happy Hour started at seven o'clock in the morning in Key West. He didn't look over when Kendall pulled out a stool and took the seat next to him.
“You paid a thug to beat up your husband, the chief of police?” Cutler struggled to wrap his brain around the implications of Kendall's actions. What else didn't he know about this woman? The woman he'd shared a bed with for hours. A blazing torch of vindication backlit her emerald gaze.
“I took plenty of ass whippings for free, Cutler. A broken arm can be a powerful tipping point,” she snapped. “What's the problem?”
He couldn't believe what she was saying. “You could have asked for help, Kendall. Gone to the police.”
She turned narrowed eyes on him. “You mean the cops that worked for Beck? The ones that saw the bruises on me and looked the other way? Or how about the patrols that came by because the neighbors heard us fighting? Is that the help you're referring to?”
“Look...”
“No, you look. I don't need you judging me and I sure don't need your permission to protect myself.” She stood to leave. He grabbed her wrist.
“Please…don’t leave. I'm sorry. My brother, Lance is a sheriff in Marathon. I can call him —”
“It's fine,” Kendall interrupted. “I can take care of myself. I didn't come to Key West to complicate my life or yours. Let's just end things now,” she sighed.
No response to the last part of her statement. “You should have told me, Red.”
“Cutler the reason I didn't tell you about Beck—.”
He interrupted. “Is the same reason you don't have to tell me now.”
She sat back down. He felt confident she would stay, so he loosened his hold.
“I never imagined things would go this far between us.”
“Your redhead spell is a good one,” he teased, trying to lighten the mood.
“I spent three years in a marriage with a cruel man. Please don't talk down to me.”
“I'm not,” he said, meeting her eyes.
She ran slender fingers through her hair. Her frown telling him the last thing she wanted to do was talk about her marriage.
“A friend of mine, Gordon, is a doctor. He placed me on birth control pills.”
“Lots of married women decide when to have children.”
“Not without telling their husbands.”
Cutler grinned. “You tricked your husband into thinking you were infertile?”
She nodded. “Yes. It was the only way he would release me from the marriage. So, if you're going to keep up with the snide remarks or judgment, I can walk back to my hotel.”
“Don't think so, darlin'. I'm pissed that you kept the fact that you had a crazy ex-husband playing Smoky and the Bandit with you, but I'll get over it.”
“So what are you saying?”
Kendall came wrapped in complications with a big, fat ‘I did some crazy shit to get away from my ex-husband’ bow, but he couldn’t leave her now. He doubted he ever could.
“I'm saying you stay with me. I'll handle Chief Aisles when it comes time.”
“Rachel,” Cutler called out, “Gimme two breakfast platters and one Dogfish IPA.”
“Seriously, a beer at this time in the morning.”
“Well, I'm not interested in the Kool-Aid your ex-husband was serving up back at the station.”
“Hi Kendall,” Rachel said as she sauntered over from behind the bar. “Whatcha' having to drink with your breakfast?”
“Can I get a hot tea?”
“Oh honey...I've got beer, wine, liquor, orange, tomato, and pineapple juices, and Coke products.”
Cutler watched, but he kept quiet. He liked that she didn't feel the need to fill every moment with conversation.
“Bring me the pineapple juice and a glass of water.”
Kendall tried to smile when Rachel stood there, appraising them both. She could have saved herself the energy; Rachel seemed to know what made her customers tick from the moment she met them. Hobo Alley held its own sort of magic because of Rachel.
“Cut, what's wrong?”
Rachel was right to ask. Cutler’s usual easy smile and laid back demeanor was clearly absent.
“Kendall's ex-husband, Chief of Police Beckham Aisles, is in town 'cause he wants her back. Seems the good ole' boy doesn't take to kindly to losing something he considers his.”
Cutler
knew men who treated women like objects to be bought and sold. He understood how Beck's mind worked. Her ex-husband probably never valued her, rather he had a need to possess beautiful things. Her deception had sparked his need to control and punish. Beck wanted Kendall to suffer for bringing their marriage to an end on her own terms.
Thin arms circled Kendall's shoulders. “Don't you worry, honey. We take care of our own. Ole' Beck will find it real hard to get anywhere near you,” Rachel said, confidence infusing her words.
Cutler said nothing, letting Rachel's words settle over the table like the promise it was. He could count on his friends to have his back.
Kendall's lips parted in surprise. She looked at him trying to understand what was happening. He told her the truth.
“You're mine.”
She stared at him, beautiful and proud in her challenge.
“That's it? Do I get anything else?”
“What more do you need, Kendall? I'm a simple man.”
Their food arrived. Flapjacks, two strips of thick-cut bacon, a sausage patty, and three scrambled eggs covered the platter. Cutler picked up his fork and went to work. He looked over to see Kendall hadn't touched her plate.
“Eat up, Red. I have plans for us.” He wiggled his brows in suggestion.
She gave him a weak smile. A deep furrow had taken up residence between her brows.
“Beck won't go away. You don't know him like I do. He'll make trouble for both of us.”
Did she doubt his ability to protect her? Cutler would fight to keep her. The Marine in him wouldn't have it any other way.
He managed to keep his voice low as more of the regular customers began to fill the tables around them.
“You don't have to worry about Beck anymore. You're not alone, Kendall.”
Conversations from nearby tables floated by, but their table could have doubled as a prayer altar. If Kendall said a word, only God could hear it. The rusty protest of the front door opening drew his attention. Both Nathan and Trace had changed out of their uniforms and were headed in their direction. Claudia, the hot guy table server, let loose a throaty version of a police siren.
“Hey fellas, what can I get ya'?”
“The special,” they replied in unison.
Kendall sat tense, not meeting anyone's eye. Last night when he'd gone to check on her in the women's sleeping quarters he’d had every intention of explaining that the guys didn't blame her for what had happened with the man in the stairwell. When she'd opened the door he could tell whatever had upset her was far more disturbing than what happened at the scene. After he'd taken her into the bathroom, all bets were off and he'd found a new purpose for his visit.
Nathan, the diplomat in the bunch, tackled the uncomfortable silence. “I can't stay long. Adam's out at the house keeping Symphony company.”
Symphony was expected to deliver their baby any day now, and Nathan didn't like leaving her alone. Adam, or Gandolph the Gray to the Hobo Alley frequenters, had been Symphony’s neighbor in the trailer park where she'd lived before her marriage to Nathan. The old timer loved that woman better than the father Symphony never knew and guarded her like a pit bull.
Nathan directed his comment to Kendall. “Glad to know you're going to be staying around.”
Her head shot up. She swallowed hard, but there was no hiding her grin. “So, you guys are still good with me on the team?”
Trace cut in. “Why wouldn't we be?”
“I just thought after yesterday...maybe, you wouldn't—,”
“Look Red,” he jumped in. “None of us are perfect. My heart stops every time we roll up to a scene and there are people still inside or someone's lost everything they own because of a fire. I can't imagine what it's like to have a loved one trapped in a burning building.”
All three men nodded their agreement. Cutler's gut did an about face and a quarter turn when tears sprang to his woman's eyes.
“Besides,” Trace said, “your ex-husband is a human booger with a badge. When he walks into a room, you feel like you’ve touched something nasty.”
They all burst out laughing. Kendall's phone ringing cut through the laughter.
Cutler began eating his food when she took the call.
When she noticed him watching her, she mouthed. “It's my grandmother.”
“Tell her you're in good hands,” he whispered. When she turned beet red, he instantly hardened. It was time for them to get Kendall home...and back to bed.
The color leeched from her face.
“Red, what's wrong?”
The conversation at the table stopped. Nathan and Trace looked at her expectantly.
“Beck called,” she said, her voice trembling. “He's on his way to my grandmother's house.”
Hell's fire and damnation. “Can I speak to her?” Cutler asked, not sure if Kendall was ready for her grandmother to know about him. When she hesitated, he reached for her. Taking Kendall into his arms, he held her close, and then he spoke in a tone for her ears only. “I want to help, Red. I promise not to hurt you or your family.”
She bit her lip. “Beck is dangerous. I won't let him hurt her.” She handed him her phone, and Cutler couldn't help but notice the sure intent in Kendall's eyes. How far would she go to keep her freedom from her ex-husband? A better question was how far would he go to help her?
“Mrs. Dinah, this is Cutler Stevens,” he said. When he would've continued with his plans of how to fix this situation, she started with a barrage of questions.
He stuttered as he began to sort and choose which questions to answer, cause there were a lot. “Yes, ma'am...no I don't think highly of Chief Aisles. That's true.”
Kendall reached for the phone, but he shrugged her off. No way would he mess up this job interview. If Grandma wanted to make sure he was fit to be a part of her granddaughter's life, he'd was ready to ace the test.
“Yep, I really like her...well, that's up to her. I...I hope so, too. Yes, I like conch fritters. Okay, we'll meet you at the Sands Outlet on US Highway 1. We're leaving now.”
He disconnected the call, handing the phone back to Kendall.
“What's happening?”
“You grandmother is coming to stay with us.”
“Us?”
“Yep, you're moving in with me. Tree cutters took care of the Kapok and the roof is fine.” He took her hand and strode towards the exit. “We need to get on the road. Beck has a head start.”
Cutler didn't like anyone getting the jump on him. It wouldn't happen again.
***
Her Grandmother Dinah was settled in Cutler's bedroom. She still wore her silver hair in one single plait down her back. Though her granny stood barely above four feet, she had a bold personality. A trait Kendall wished she’d adopted earlier in life. Later that evening, Cutler wore a brown t-shirt with loose lounge pants, his IPA bottle in hand. The double size mattress on the futon lay open, an invitation she found hard to resist. By the gleam of mischief in Cutler’s baby blues, he’d done the deed on purpose. As much as Kendall hated not joining him on the futon, she’d feel like a ‘bad girl’ if she slept with Cutler knowing her granny could hear them from the other room.
“You want to kiss me...goodnight?” she asked.
Oh, that was code language for please drag me back to your cave and sex me silly.
“Darlin', I plan to kiss you all night, but you gotta come closer and stop stalling.”
She’d wiped down the kitchen until it sparkled with the Good Housekeeping seal.
“I just came out to say goodnight.”
Cutler’s mouth gaped open. Kendall had hoped to avoid having this discussion. No such luck.
“You plan to sleep in there, not with me?”
She threw up her hands. “It's my grandma, Cutler, not a girlfriend. I can't have sex with the granny cam on.”
“It's not a secret we're sleeping together. Your grandmother knows. Heck, if my granny was alive, she'd know too.”
That was his
argument? She waited, hoping he'd say more, but nope, nada, the well had run dry.
“How would it look? I'm recently divorced. I got here four days ago, and already I'm in your bed.”
“It was a bad marriage. So what if you slept with me on the first or the hundredth day. We'd still be together.”
Cutler sounded so sure about them. She preferred to think in the present. Her future and their longevity was in too much of a smoke haze to be clear on anything beyond the here and now.
He took a slow pull off his beer bottle. Kendall sighed as the liquid clung to his lips.
“She'll be asleep soon enough. Then I'll hook you up,” he teased.
Heat, moist and creeping spread up her neck and down her thigh. Cutler hadn't taken his eyes off her, the blue irises fringed with ice cool flame. How had he known that she wanted him, craved him? She needed to change the subject before she jumped his bones right here and now.
He grinned. “We can do that too. Let me eat something, and then we can disappear in the laundry room for a quickie.”
Her mouth dropped open. “You reading minds again?”
“Nope, but I'm a master at female body language.” He leaned in close. His breath tickled her right ear. “You're squirming in your pants, darlin'. And,” his voice dropped an octave, “without your breast sling, I can see your nipples ridged beneath your shirt.”
She gasped.
“I know you're wet, Red.”
“Hey my grandmother is in the other room.”
“Yeah, well, she'd better stay there or she's about to witness one for the record books.”
Two hours later a sexually satisfied Kendall slid into bed next to her prone grandmother. She'd joined Cutler in the shower afterwards, hence the second hour.
“He seems like a nice young man.”
Her grandmother’s voice emerging from the darkness startled Kendall.
Kendall shook her head, amused by her response. “Grandma,” she sighed. “I'm sorry if I woke you.”
“You didn't, dear. I don't sleep well away from my bed.” There was a pregnant pause, so Kendall held her breath praying her grandmother would let the conversation drop.
