by S. L. Scott
Deputy Whaley never saw things for how they were. He preferred to pick and choose who his criminals were. Today, I guess I’m the bad guy. “Shut it, or I’ll take you to jail.”
Delilah pushes through the crowd. “Jason was defending himself, Deputy Whaley. All these witnesses can back him up.”
“Step back, Ms. Cutler.”
“Noelle,” she corrects.
He stops and looks at her. Releasing my arm, he says, “You jump from one bad decision to the next. Cut your losses on this one before I see you in jail along with him.”
“No.” She jumps in front of him, proving his point. “This is wrong. I’m not going to let you get away with this.”
“Well, there’s nothing you can do, Ms. Noelle, so step aside.”
“It’s okay, baby. He’s not going to take me in. I’ll be back.”
Seeing her all fired up like this, fires me up in ways we can’t act on. She’s feisty and fierce. Her hands are on her hips, and she’s passionate when she speaks, “It’s not okay—”
Cole grabs her arm. I’m already in action to take that fucker down once and for all, but she’s already swinging and lands a perfect right cross, his jowls shaking under the impact.
Deputy Whaley sighs. He yells, “Take her into custody.”
24
Delilah
I’m not scared.
I probably should be, but I’m not.
I’m never scared when I’m with Jason, and you would think having been so close to Cole when he flew at Jason I’d be rattled. I’m not. And even though I’m leaning over a cop car handcuffed, I’m not worried.
His cheek is pressed to the same trunk as mine, both of us staring at each other with smiles on our faces. “Maybe you shouldn’t have told him his wife’s famous blue ribbon recipe was a rip-off of your mom’s.”
Laughing, I reply, “Maybe, but it’s true. Shows what cheaters the Whaley family have always been.”
“Commit a crime and you walk away with a warning in this small fucked-up county. Expose the truth about an apple crisp and you get a night in jail. Sounds about right.”
“They won’t take us,” I say. “They’ve got nothing on us.”
His eyes narrow at me, confusion furrowing his brow. “Since when did you grow a pair of balls the size of Kentucky?”
“I’m just tired of it all. Tired of being called Cole’s wife. Tired of being called a whore to my face from rumors spread all over McKinney. Tired of hiding who I want to be. Tired of hiding us. I’m so fucking tired of all the bullshit. Do you ever just get tired of it all, Jason?”
He smiles. “Yeah, that’s when I decided to come home.”
“But this is my home. I have nowhere to escape to.”
We’re both lifted by our shoulders and brought around opposite sides of the car. Our heads are pushed down as we’re loaded into the back of the cop car. The doors slam closed and we look at each other. Blue and red flashes, lighting up the night around us. Jason leans his head forward and turns to me. “Marry me, Delilah.”
Not a question.
It’s a plea followed by a smile and nudge. “Fuck this town and marry me. We’ll live like the shunned in our private paradise by the lake. We’ll fish and fuck, raise a family, and pour so much love into that farm and each other that no one will have cause to say anything bad.”
“I don’t want to marry you to stop gossip.”
“Then marry me to start it. I’ll walk down Main with you on my arm, proud as the day is long. You’re my girl. You always were. And you always will be. Let me be your man long past forever. Will you marry me, Delilah Rae Noelle?”
Jason, Billy, Ricardo, and my daddy are the only men who’ve never used my married name, which surprisingly the town refuses to drop. There’s a lot to be said for men with manners. Besides manners, Jason’s the man I was always meant to be with. I may be newly divorced, but I was never truly married. Not in my heart anyway. The answer is easy, coming forthright just like Jason is now. “Yes.”
Leaning closer, with our hands trapped behind our backs, our lips meet in the middle. Words aren’t necessary. Our kiss confirms the promises we’re not afraid to voice, but don’t need to say.
The deep and steadfast love we have for each other is felt in this kiss. A million yeses exchanged. An eternity of I love yous whispered through caresses.
The driver’s door opens and Deputy Whaley folds inside. “Geesh, stop that or I’m gonna have to hold you in separate cars.”
Jason’s laughing, and then he licks his bottom lip making me wish I was the one licking it. He then bites that bottom lip as if the secret he’s keeping from Whaley might escape.
Whaley says, “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, Delilah. Dragging my wife and her blue ribbons into your mess can land you in a cell for the night. You can’t blow that low and not expect to pay the price. What if my wife finds out?”
“What if the Women’s Auxiliary Club finds out she’s been stealing blue ribbon recipes long before last year? Isn’t she up for re-election of the Fourth of July Extravaganza this year?”
“Is that a threat, Ms. Noelle?”
Jason stares at me wide-eyed and mouths, “You’re so fucking hot.”
But Whaley ruins the moment by adding, “Your father is probably rollin’ in his grave right now. What would he say if he saw you cuffed in the back of my car?”
Angling my chin up in defiance, I reply, “He’d be proud I stood up for what was right.”
His dissatisfaction comes in a huff before he turns attention to my partner in crime. “I blame you, Koster. If you weren’t on that football field, you were always causin’ trouble. If my vote mattered, I’d have that billboard down by the highway demo’d and burned for the homecoming bonfire.”
“Well, Deputy,” Jason starts, “I actually wasn’t in trouble much, but you did go to Kerbyville High, so maybe it’s the rivalry that makes you hate me so much.”
“I do not hate you.” Whaley’s voice rises. Looking at us in the rearview mirror, he says, “I’m gonna let you go with a warnin’, but you best be leaving Mr. Cutler alone and mindin’ your own damn business. Do you both hear me?”
Jason replies, “Loud and clear.”
“Did ya hear me, Ms. Noelle?”
“I heard you.”
“Good,” Whaley says. “Just head on home and stop causin’ trouble where there is none.”
When I look at Jason, he’s already looking at me. A small smile is seen as the flashing lights drift across his face. He whispers, “Even though I didn’t win the money, I totally won the grand prize.”
I’m about to tell him the money doesn’t matter, but the doors open, and we’re helped out of the vehicle. Facing each other over the roof of the car, he smiles at me and I smile back. This is not the way I expected him to ask me to marry him, but now we’re on the other side of it, it was perfect for us.
We don’t talk until we’re out of eavesdropping distance. Rubbing my wrists, his hand lands on my lower back and he guides me away from the cops. His lips are near my ear when he says, “I had that shooting contest in the bag. How about a consolation prize on the way home?”
Sneaking a peek of him, I see the confidence embedded in that smile, and ask, “What’d you have in mind?”
The windows are down and Blake Shelton’s “Every Time I Hear That Song” is playing through the speakers, floating into the night. With a palm on each thigh, he spreads my legs wide open. We’ve had a lot of sex since he’s been back, but it’s hard to get used to how he looks at me—my whole body under deep inspection as he studies every inch in the moonlight. In awe.
Lifting up, my eyes meet his briefly before his gaze lowers again and he kisses that spot where my most private parts meet the top of my thighs. My head drops back slowly on the blanketed truck bed, and I happily sigh while closing my eyes.
“You’re amazing, Delilah. Your trust is a beautiful thing. I promise never to abuse it.” He kisses me again—
deeply with intention as his tongue sinks inside me.
I sigh to relax, my muscles and my mind getting lost in this moment, getting lost in him forever. Blame it on the moonlight or his magical tongue, or maybe a combination of both, but my orgasm comes fast and hits hard. My back arches as he holds me still. “You’re so bad.” My body relaxes into a puddle of blissful goodness. “You’re going to send me to an early grave of ecstasy.”
“Hey, honeysuckle?” When my eyes connect with his, he says, “I may be bad, but I’ll make you feel so good.” He maneuvers onto the truck and lies next to me. Looking over, he takes my hand, rolls to the side, and kisses me.
It’s naughty and rough, raw, and God, so crazy. “I feel so carefree with you, like we could disappear into that star-filled universe and never look back.”
“Is that what you want? Do you want to leave here, leave the farm?”
Turning my eyes to the night sky, I lean my head to his shoulder. “I don’t know what I want other than a redo.”
“How about we start with an I do?”
I smile, my happiness bubbling to the surface through giggles like I’m a teenager. “Sounds good to me.”
We lie there a little longer before grabbing the blanket and shutting the tailgate. We leave the windows down the rest of the way and listen to the music loudly as we sing at the top of our lungs.
Rolling down the window, I maneuver out and sit on the door, letting the wind whip through my hair. My arms are raised as I lean back and let the music take me away. My calf is warmed by Jason’s hand. His touch feels good but I know he’s really taking precautions.
My protector—of heart and body.
When we enter the city limits of McKinney, I slide into my seat and buckle up. I leave my window down and rest my head on my arm. I’ve seen these same buildings my whole life, passed under this stoplight a million times, and every time I do, I wonder what it’s like to be somewhere else. To get . . . away.
My sister knows. She followed a job offer to Chicago and then stayed for the money. Almost every time we talk, she tells me she wishes she were back on the farm feeding the chickens and swinging on that rickety porch swing.
I’d trade the quiet of the country for six months in the city. Big dreams die in little towns.
Jason runs his hand over my thigh and under my skirt before the heat sears my skin. I look up. He says, “You seem sad.”
“Not sad. Confined to a life I didn’t choose.”
“What about us?”
“You’re the best part of my reality.” My salvation. I angle my back against the door and prop my boots on his lap. “Tell me a story about one of your adventures.”
Goose bumps are left in the wake of his hand as it runs over my knee. “I once drove from Seattle to San Diego. That’s some beautiful country out there.”
“What’s the ocean like? I saw the water in Chicago. They treat it like the ocean but it’s a lake technically. Is there a difference to the beaches in California?”
We pull up the drive to the farmhouse. “They’re different. There’s nothing like a sunset over the Pacific Ocean. I’m going to show you one day.”
I have no doubt he will. He’s a man of his word. “I’m so grateful to have you in my life. As much as I want to travel and see the world, I feel like you’ve brought all that back with you.”
“My stories pale in comparison.”
“I’ll take those over nothing at all.”
Taking my hand, he kisses the top. “I’m going to give you the best life, Delilah, the one you always wanted. You’ll never want for anything. What do you dream about?”
“I’m too broke to dream outside my means.”
“Dreams are free. What does your heart long to do?”
“I love the farm. I’ve always seen myself living out my life here, but I’ve always dreamed of seeing the Eiffel Tower, and I wonder what it feels like to dig my toes in the sandy beaches of Southern California. Although I don’t need to be rich to be happy, I do wish to see what’s beyond these county lines.”
“I have money.”
I slide across the truck bench. “We’ve already talked about this. I don’t want to take your money.”
“I’ve saved it for my future. You’re my future, Delilah.”
Future Mrs. Jason Koster. I lift up and kiss his neck. “You’re my everything.”
25
Delilah
A bottle of wine, two beers, and three grilled cheese sandwiches later, Jason is dancing with me in the kitchen.
We’re happy.
We’re stuffed.
We’re drunk.
We’re high on life.
We’re turned on.
That’s nothing new. I’ve never felt so alive, or is it more that I never knew how empty I felt? Like a summer storm, he wrecked all my plans. But in his destruction of that planned life, he gave me a sunrise of hope. I gasp in pleasure. “I suspect you wear these dresses to tempt me into sinning.”
“Is it working?” I ask through broken breaths.
“It’s working.” He moves, going deeper. “The fair was fun, but if I could spend every night buried deep inside you like I am now, I’d never leave this farm.”
“We were arrested. That wasn’t fun.”
Laughing against the back of my head, he says, “We weren’t arrested, but fuck, you sure do know how to use that smart mouth of yours sometimes.”
“Too much?”
“No, it’s fucking sexy.”
Currently pinned to the counter in front of the sink, my skirt is bunched above my ass. My panties are in shreds on the floor. His shoes push against my boots while he pushes into me.
Again.
And again.
Closing my eyes, I chase the darkness that alights with fireworks of desire. Fuck, I want it. Like him, I want it so badly I can taste it—salty sweet—from an hour earlier when I made Jason fall apart, dropping his guard and getting off as he watched me take him deep in my mouth.
He’s close.
His thrusts are becoming erratic.
I’m close.
The thought of him being turned on turns me on. So much. My fingers sting from the pressure of holding the edge of the counter so hard. Leaning onto my elbows, his fingers dig into my hips as he comes. Mine follows fast. My mouth falls open, releasing a rough moan. “Jason.” His name is dragged through my body’s vibrations.
Reaching behind me, my breath returns as I fist his T-shirt. Opening my eyes, I scream. I push away from the window in front of me.
Those eyes.
The eyes that have haunted me.
“Shit! What? What is it?”
Pointing toward the window, I say, “Cole. Cole. Co—”
“Cole? What?” Jason spins me around to face him. “Cutler?”
“He’s out there. He’s out there, Jason. I saw him. I saw him.”
His pants are up, and he’s running out the back door. Is he real? Is he here? Surely I’m hallucinating. I run to the front door to look for his car, and as I swing it open I’m charged—one hand covers my mouth and the other holds the back of my head. I scream, my eyes wide while Cole pushes me into the house.
“Shut up,” he demands.
I’m grappling for anything I can grab while being shoved too fast to comprehend what’s happening. I’m pushed backward into the hallway. My back hits the corner before we clear it, but there’s no slowing him. He pushes harder as I wince in pain. With his hand over my mouth, my attempts to scream are squashed. My eyes water in pain and fear, and I try to grab his wrists to pull them away.
Cole’s body is hard, harder than natural. Staring into his bloodshot eyes, the pupils are pinpricks. His strength is extraordinary.
He’s not drunk.
He’d be sloppy.
He’s high on something.
I continue to try and scream as I claw at his arm. Nothing deters him. With the strength of an army, he pushes me into my parents’ room. The door is locked, and
I’m shoved to the ground. “You think you can make me look like a fool and get away with it? Is that what you thought?”
Scrambling away from him, I hit the bed with my back. “Listen to me, Cole—”
“No.” I’m whacked with the back of his hand, and my ears ring. “I told you to stay away from him and what do I find out? You’re fucking him, and he’s living here.” He stands over me, his anger surging. “I saw you in the kitchen. You let him treat you like a whore. Is that what you want? You want to be treated like that?”
“He’s here, Cole. He’ll find us.”
“Do you let him fuck you in our bed?” His eyes dart to the mattress and back. “Like I used to fuck you?” Reaching for his belt, he starts to undo it.
White-hot fear runs up my spine. The sound of his belt through the loops. His rapid breathing. The crazed look in his eyes. Too many memories flash before me, and I become paralyzed with fear. But then somewhere in the white noise I hear Jason’s voice. “I won’t let him come after you, Delilah. You’re my everything.” He’s here. He knows my house like the back of his hand.
I look back up at Cole. He’s not in his right mind.
I won’t be able to reason with him, but I won’t die on his timeline either. Grabbing one of his legs, I yank it forward sending him to fall on his backside. He’s too quick to recover for me to get far. My boot is grabbed as I lunge away from him. With my body free as he holds the boot, I move to get to my feet. We both are upright at the same time, and he charges me again. I get one good hit and start to run, but he grabs my hair and pulls me back to the ground, my head hitting the wood floor.
My vision is spotty. I struggle to stay alert as my body is dragged into the bathroom. I hold his wrists to take pressure off the hair that’s being ripped from my scalp. Kicking my feet, my socked foot slips on the floor, and I have no grip.
The water is turned on in the tub, and I’m dragged closer. “Cole,” I scream, tears streaking down my face, my heart racing. “Please.”
“Please what? You’ve ruined everything. Everything was for you.”
