by L. A. Fiore
She’d like to go with him, and the magazine had places all over the country. An idea formed. “Where in Tennessee? Is Noah still there?”
“Nashville, he went to Vanderbilt.” Hank paused and told her quietly, “Not sure, he turned into an asshole after he left anyway. Said I was texting his girl after I came back from visiting him,” Hank scoffed. “Not sure what the fuck sparked that shit cause seventy percent of the time I was there I had my dick in his girl’s roommate. But he wouldn’t let it go, even had the balls to send me some fake screenshots of texts that I supposedly sent to her.”
A chill moved through Arissa. Noah wasn’t the first man to accuse Hank of texting his woman. She wasn’t a believer in coincidence. There was still so much she had to learn about Hank Weathers, but what she did know. The man had integrity. She didn’t believe for a second he was texting those women. So who the hell was? She touched his chin, brought his faraway gaze on her. “That man who showed up at your house accused you of the same thing.”
Hank blinked. Blinked again and stared at Arissa but didn’t see her. “Yeah,” he breathed out. “Fucking odd.” Hank thought to himself what a coincidence but kept it to himself. It was… seventeen years ago that shit had gone down with Noah. And it’s not like you only step in shit once in your life. Some spent a lifetime dodging it daily. So Hank didn’t hang on to that thought for long. Instead, he traced Arissa’s lower lip and asked, “Why so many questions?” Not that he had a problem or was hiding anything from her. But tonight she seemed to have her interviewer hat on. He’d seen it a few times when she Skyped with clients but never had it pointed in his direction.
She studied Hank for a few seconds. Her intent wasn’t to question him, but something felt off. And from what little he shared, it seemed wiser to be straight up so she was. “It didn’t go so well with your parents this evening. Your mom in particular. She doesn’t like me very much, and I guess I’m just trying to understand the reason.” She touched his lower lip, her gaze following the motion. “Because I want this to work.”
Hank squinted his brows and his voice had a slight edge to it when he said, “She said nothing but good things about you, not sure where this impression is coming from.” Hank shifted causing Arissa to fall to Hank’s side. Clearly Hank wasn’t too thrilled about Arissa pointing fingers when there was nothing to point at.
She almost dropped it, but she had a feeling that happened way too much with his parents, so she put it on the table. Terrified because they were his parents but if this was going to work, they had to be honest.
“When you left the room, your mom challenged me about the spread, your father said it should be brought up in front of the council. I told them I was following your lead. She accused me of questioning her parenting—”
“Stop,” Hank said holding a hand in the air, cutting Arissa off. “I told you,” Hank sat up, putting his back to the headboard. “Their small town people, it’s how they are. Bringing it in front of the council, Jesus, they had a council meeting about the color of Hya’s house. So I wouldn’t get offended by that. Second.” Hank tapped his thumb on his middle finger. “I’m all they have, Babe. Yeah, they can be overprotective, I get it, and it’s a lot to take, but we have no family. I’m their life.” He tapped his chest. “Me, that’s it.”
Him coming to their defense, it was one of the reasons she was so drawn to him. It was just who he was, fair. But she had a feeling Hank wasn’t seeing his parents clearly. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him about her first meeting with Catherine and her describing Phoebe as the love of his life. She wasn’t going to be that person, though, putting a wedge between him and his parents because the one thing they agreed on when it came to his parents, their intentions were in his best interest. Still, if Catherine treated her how she had, had she done the same to Phoebe? The thought caused Arissa’s stomach to twist, and as hard as she tried to push it from her mind, it wouldn’t budge.
She moved closer, running her hand up his chest. “Okay.” She met his gaze. “I get it. I’m not close to my parents, as you know, so I don’t understand the dynamic, but I get it. They do love you, that’s very clear to see. You are their world. It’s nice, actually.”
Hank captured her hand in his, holding it to his chest. “Thank you for understanding. But, Baby, look.” He waved a hand out gesturing to them. “I may be their world but they’re not mine. You’re mine.”
Every other emotion but love faded as she climbed onto his lap, her hands coming to rest on his shoulders, her mouth only inches from his when she vowed, “You’re mine too.”
Hank wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her flush against him. He took her mouth, the kiss started out soft and sweet but ended with his cock in her mouth, and his between her legs.
11
Arissa had spent the last few days working on the plan for the spread for Hank’s, but what had started as a project she couldn’t wait to dive into had become a source of anxiety. Her mojo was off so when she was pitched an idea for a New Orleans jazz feature, she told her team to work up the concept. They’d do that first, come back to Hank’s.
She spent most days at Hank’s. Was there when he got home at night and the man was not kidding about his greeting. Even if she was off on business, she was going to be sure to get her ass home for six. Smiling to herself, she walked outside and took in the scene. Things had been a little tense between them since their dinner with his parents. In part some of that tension was guilt because she’d googled Hank and his parents. She wasn’t sure what she hoped to learn, but she hadn’t learned anything because there was very little on them. As the sheriff of Summerville, that kind of surprised her. He was a figurehead, there should have been more on him. And even that…for people so concerned about attention, him being the sheriff didn’t bother them? He was the most visible person in town.
Hank had left earlier after a magnificent round of shower sex. She was tempted to just move in. She was never going to get enough of him. The thought brought a smile. Looking out toward the horizon, she remembered the first time she’d been there, and what had stirred her interest in doing the spread on him, but she could admit it had less to do with his house and more to do with the man. She’d never met anyone like him, suspected she never would again. He cared about this town, the people…every little thing. It was admirable. He gave them so much of himself, and it warmed her heart to see that the town didn’t take that for granted.
The call of birds pulled her attention, warmth swept through her imagining little ones running around this yard. She wanted that. It was too soon, but she did. She wanted his children, wanted to see him as a father because she knew he was going to make a hell of a one.
The sound of a car turned her head. Her feet were already moving toward the driveway because it wouldn’t be the first time Hank came home for lunch or surprised her unannounced. The accompanying heat moved through her body and settled between her legs. She reached the driveway, noticed the car and that lovely chill dried up. She dropped her head, contemplated ignoring the fact that Catherine had arrived, pondered even taking a long, long walk, but she was Hank’s mom. The woman hadn’t wasted anytime going inside, which was odd because she knew Hank would be working. Why was she here? Arissa moved then, not at the thought of seeing Catherine, but seeing what she was up to.
She walked through the kitchen, careful to keep quiet as she approached the living room and then stopped at the sight of Catherine removing pictures from the wall. She wasn’t sure what she thought would bring Catherine to Hank’s in the middle of the day but removing pictures she had given Hank certainly never crossed her mind.
Catherine moved around his living room, took a few off the shelves that flanked his flat screen. Only then did it dawn on Arissa that she’d parked her car in the garage. She’d bet money that Catherine didn’t know she was there. She took far more pleasure from what she did next than she should have.
Stepping into the room, she said too brightly, “Catherine, what a lovely surprise.”
Arissa had been right. Catherine hadn’t known she was there because she almost dropped her now overly stuffed bag.
“Arissa, what are you doing here?” she said accusingly. “Does Hank know you’re here?”
Did he know if she was here? No, she snuck in to attack him when he got home. She shouldn’t have, but she held the older woman’s stare and said, “I have a key.”
She wished she had her phone handy because the look on Catherine’s face, priceless. “Why are you removing pictures?” Arissa asked, stepping into the room and intentionally added, “Does Hank know?”
Catherine narrowed her eyes at Arissa and squared her shoulders. “You’ve dropped the spread, yes? I believe that’s what we all agreed to.”
It didn’t pass her notice the older woman ignored her question. She didn’t press because as much as she’d like to get into a pissing contest with her, this was Hank’s mom. “I’ve not dropped the spread. Hank is completely onboard.”
“Why is it you women come to town and think you can change things.” She held Arissa stare and added, “Change him.”
There was more than venom behind her words; there was fear too. And it was because she heard that, she tried to be more gentle when she replied, “I’ve no intention of changing Hank. He’s incredible just the way he is.”
Catherine studied the younger woman before she said, “So why are you insisting on the spread?”
Why was she so against it? “Why don’t you want it?”
Catherine’s words were hard…firm when she stated, “Hank was very happy before you moved here. A spread in a fancy magazine isn’t what my son needs.” She finished with shoving a picture of the three of them standing in front of the town’s Christmas tree into her bag.
“What does your son need, Catherine? From the minute we met, you’ve had a problem with me. No one is here so why don’t you just say what I can see you so very much want to.”
Catherine’s eyes glanced around the room. She was pleased with the images she had removed. Flinging the stuffed bag over her shoulder, she started for the door. “I don’t have time for this, my roast will burn,” she said, ignoring Arissa’s question. But right before she closed the front door behind her, she turned and said, “Please tell Hank that Brianna had a wonderful time and is looking forward to seeing him again.” And with that, she closed the door firmly behind her.
Arissa didn’t move, anger kept her frozen in place. She recalled her conversation with Hank after their dinner with his parents, his defense of them, their small town mentality, but that woman who just walked out of his house, there was more to what she was doing. He didn’t see it and that broke her heart because there was no way she was ever going to get along with that woman. And she was his mom. She moved then, dropped down on the sofa because had Phoebe gone through this too? Had she run off or had she been chased off? As much as she wanted it to be the former, she had a terrible feeling it was the latter.
Her head dropped in her hands, the unpleasant realization that Hank hadn’t so much chosen her. She’d gotten him by default. And that fact festered; ate at her because she loved Hank but he had loved another. And had his mom not interfered, he’d likely still be with Phoebe. She needed to talk to someone. She wanted that someone to be Hank but putting him in the middle, that was exactly what Catherine was doing. She wouldn’t do that to him. There was one person who had been around Summerville a long time, one person that despite her first impression was someone who knew and felt more than at first glance.
Arissa grabbed her keys and hurried to her car. She thought to call Hya but suspected she was home nursing a hangover. The Belles knew how to drink and did it often. She pulled up to the gates, then through them. Her house came into view and even being weathered, it was beautiful…so perfectly fit its owner. She drove around back, parked and hurried to the door that led to the kitchen. She didn’t even knock; walking in knowing Hya wouldn’t care. Then stopped at the sight of Hya in an apron, long hot pink gloves on, standing in front of the sink. Her head jerked to Arissa, she gave her a once over and said, “For a girl getting fucked regularly by our sexy sheriff, you look like shit.”
Arissa bit back the grin and said, “That’s so sweet of you to notice.” She jerked her head to the sink, “What are you doing?”
Hya lifted the biggest dildo Arissa had ever seen. “Cleaning my arsenal.”
Arissa had no reaction because this was Hya, and after time you became immune to her oddities. Plus, Arissa knew Wednesday afternoon was toy cleaning day. She had just forgotten with everything that was on her mind. The knot in her stomach eased a bit being around Hya just being Hya. She crossed the room to her, saw there were quite a few new dildos and the fact that she knew the inventory of Hya’s sex toys made her smile.
Hya eyed her while informing her, “I don’t have the sexy sheriff in my bed.” Then she looked her new dildo up and down. “I have to improvise.” She dropped the toy back in the soapy water, removed her gloves and asked, “What’s wrong?”
Arissa couldn’t help herself when she said, “You need to think bigger.”
“You know I never liked you from day one,” Hya said, then switched gears because she was many things and astute was one of them. She moved to the far counter, grabbed the Jack and two glasses and settled at the table in the kitchen. Arissa had never known women like the Belles, and was she missing out. She sat next to Hya, drained the three fingers she’d poured for her and waited for her to splash another three fingers before she said, “I feel bad coming here with this, but I’m not sure who to talk to. I’ve tried talking with Hank, but I just don’t want to put him in the middle.” She held Hya’s stare and added, “Catherine is already doing that.”
Hya tipped back her head, drained her glass, dropped it on the table with a bang and asked, “What the fuck she do now?”
Arissa’s mouth opened then closed before she asked, “You’re not surprised she’s meddling?”
Hya filled her glass and Arissa’s. “There’s meddling and then there’s Catherine Weathers. The woman should be in the CIA with her shit.” She drained her glass again and said, “So what is it this time?”
Where the hell to start? Feeling anxious again, Arissa stood and started to pace. “You know they took him to the beach once, only once and never went back.”
Hya looked at her, then the bottle of Jack. “Either I’m drunk already or you’re not making any fucking sense.”
Arissa waved her hand. “I know. I’ve got too much going on in my head.” She moved back to the table, the chair dragging across the wood before she dropped back down into. “You knew Hank when he was younger, yeah?”
This time her look could peel paint from the wall. “I ain’t that much older than him.”
Over two decades older, but Arissa just grinned. “Testy,” she said, but added, “Do you remember him hitting his head as a kid? Enough to cause a concussion?”
Hya leaned back in her chair, studying Arissa for a second. “What the hell is going on in your head?” Hya placed her elbows on the table, leaned in and said, “That boy did not have a concussion.”
Arissa was already on the next thought but that comment stopped her. “Are you sure?”
“Even then, I had an eye on him. Yeah, I’m sure.”
“Why would his mother tell him he had a concussion, possible memory loss?”
Hya slammed her hand on the table and expressed loudly, “What?” She grabbed the bottle of Jack and began to pour more than three fingers in their glasses. “The only one with any memory issues is that fucking woman.”
“See!” Arissa said, pointing at Hya. “This is what is driving me crazy. Catherine hates me. I mean she really hates me. She wants me gone. Hank doesn’t see it and I’m not about to put him in the middle. S
he doesn’t want me doing the magazine spread. Really doesn’t want me doing that. Caught her today in his house removing family pictures from the wall and shelves. Why the hell would she remove pictures she gave him from his house?”
Hya’s brow rose. “Taking pictures?”
Arissa dropped her elbows on the table, feeling the effects of the Jack. “Their house is like a shrine to him. Have you noticed that? I mean there are pictures and then there’s a stalker wall. Why so many pictures?” Arissa said, her words slurring a little. “And to take more. Why?”
Hya raised her brow again. “That woman hates anyone who gets too close to her son.”
“Why?” Arissa asked and slapped the table, before lifting her hand and shaking it. “That hurt,” she muttered.
“She’s protective,” Hya said. “At least that’s the party line.”
“I don’t think it’s protective,” Arissa said, standing again and pacing. “It’s like she wants him isolated, but how the hell is that in his best interest? He doesn’t see it. He thinks it’s just small town thinking but I’m telling you, that woman is hiding something.”
“Like what?”
Arissa dropped down in her seat again. “Fuck if I know. That’s why I’m here. You’ve got to know something.”
Hya thought about it for a bit. “I don’t know what she’s hiding, but I agree there’s more to her behavior. She passed overprotective a long time ago.” She sat up in her chair, pointed her finger at Arissa. “She never let him get his picture taken, you know that shit for school that could be put in the local paper and whatever, never gave her consent.” Hya stood now, started to pace. “She never let him go on class trips either. I remember seeing him in town when the rest of his class was away, the lone kid in the diner. I never really thought much about it, and it didn’t seem to bother him, but, yeah, she’s always kept him very close.” Hya exhaled. “Too close.”
