Son of a Sinner

by Lynn Shurr

  “There is no other Titi. Oh Dean, Lorena went to bring her inside this evening and found her dead.”

  Dean let out a sigh that he should never have expelled. “That’s all? Stace, Titi was a very old dog. Her time had come to go to the big dog park in the sky.”

  Stacy drew back sharply leaving a wet patch and some eye makeup behind on his light blue shirt. “You never liked her!”

  “I didn’t care for the way she bossed big old Macho, always nipping at his heels and chasing him around the ranch.”

  “They were best friends. He chased her, too. Then, they’d go lie down under that oak tree, rest, and slurp up water. I think they would have been more than friends if Aunt Nell hadn’t had her spayed.” She waited for the comparison to sink in.

  “That was the right thing to do. A big ranch dog like Macho would have torn that little bit of fluff apart if they’d mated.”

  Why did he have to be so reasonable? “You wouldn’t let her sit in your lap or lick your face. Titi wanted to love you.”

  “Jeez, Stacy, no guy in his teens wants to be seen with a fuzzy little dog in his lap, but I did admire her spirit. Titi had more bark in her than dogs four times her size. I remember when she nipped at that big movie star who barged onto the ranch looking for Rex Worthy. She did know who to trust.”

  Dean hung his head and paused as if getting ready to make a big confession. Stacy held her breath. “The reason Titi always wanted to lick my face is that I used to give her treats on the sly. She liked those terrible dry scones. I guess they tasted like dog biscuits to her.”

  Shoving aside her disappointment, Stacy said, “I thought you’d finally developed a taste for scones. You bought one the other day.”

  “Nope. I had you and Angel on my mind and just pointed to the first pastry in the case.”

  That cheered her a wee bit. “I think I need a cup of tea. Can I get you anything?” She shivered a little remembering how Prince answered that question and where it led.

  “Coffee. I could use some coffee if it isn’t too much trouble.”

  “No trouble at all.” She made a mug of herbal tea in the microwave and started the dark roast dripping into a regular office style carafe. Again she had a flash of Prince lurking in her kitchen instead of Dean already comfortable at the table.

  “Let’s go into the other room while the coffee perks. I guess I need to talk a little.”

  They settled on the plum-colored couch but not as close together as she would have liked. “I should have taken Titi with me to college. I just abandoned her at the ranch, and she’d always been my best friend.”

  “She would have been miserable in a small student apartment all day with you gone. You turned her care over to Lorena who did a great job. You know that.”

  “I guess, but I think Titi grieved for Macho, that big lug, after he died of old age. That’s where they found her tonight, lying on top of his grave under the oak tree. They buried her next to him—and I wasn’t there to say goodbye.” Stacy couldn’t help herself. The tears gathered again and dripped into the mug of herbal tea as she tried unsuccessfully to hold them back. Dean slid closer and put an arm around her.

  “The big lout and the big lug, that’s what you always called me and Macho.”

  “Affectionately.”

  “Pretty hard to tell back then.”

  “Dean, kiss me.” That came out more as an order than a suggestion, but she had no need to worry about the response. His lips pressed down hard on hers, and this time he demanded entrance for his tongue. She smelled good bourbon on his breath and that might have explained his lack of hesitation, but she didn’t care. Intending to stay home, she hadn’t dressed for seduction, but her fitted pink tee and really ordinarily bra peeled off just as easily beneath Dean’s fingers.

  He, however, wore a dress shirt with the collar open and the sleeves rolled up, his usual casual style. Opening all those buttons down the front infuriated her, especially when he arched his body to suck her bare breasts, not so gently this time. She tore one button from its threads in her haste, and when she finally exposed that smooth expanse of muscle with a trifle of black hair between the pecs arrowing toward the end zone, Stacy shoved Dean back and went to work on his nipples with her tongue. She grappled with that belt buckle again, but his khakis slid down his hips far more easily than jeans. She thumbed his boxer briefs off with them, and the loafers cooperated by falling to the floor. There, she had Dean Billodeaux naked and raring to go.

  Except, he pushed her back into the purple upholstery and upended her hips to shake her out of pair of tight skinny jeans and fairly skimpy undies. She’d been padding around the apartment in cute pink sequined flip-flops and those flew through the air presenting no problem at all. Dean mounted over her with one leg bent on the sofa, the other on the floor, and the notorious third leg ready to go to its destination. Stacy hated to say the words. “Upstairs is better. What if Xo…”

  She didn’t have to finish the sentence. Dean threw her bare buck-naked body over his shoulders in a fireman’s carry very similar to the one she’d used to haul him from the pool for her lifeguard test. With an ease that left her breathless, he hauled her up the stairs to her bedroom. Kicking the door closed as they entered, Dean paused only slightly to rip the duvet still bearing a light stain from their last encounter off the bed and dump it on the floor. He laid her on the pale gray sheets with a slight bounce from the mattress springs and wasn’t far behind in assuming the sexual position again.

  Dean stopped. “I forgot the condom again. It’s in my khakis downstairs. Be right…”

  Stacy gripped his shoulders. “I told you I’m on the pill. You can trust me. I won’t be having your babies any time soon.”

  “Thank you,” he said and plunged in to the hilt.

  She couldn’t have been much slicker if they’d spent a half hour on foreplay. Strong, fast strokes brought her near climax, but she dimly remembered she wanted to show some skills this time around. Stacy raised one hip and pushed against his broad shoulder to indicate she wanted the top position. A slight smile on those great lips, he gave in without a struggle for supremacy.

  “Whatever you want, Princess. It’s all good.” He reached for her breasts, fondling them firmly, as she rode him.

  Too late to do some fondling of her own between his legs, Stacy felt the tightness building, the spasms starting and continuing as she tried to hang on a little longer. He should give in and go first this time. But, he didn’t. When she flattened gasping against his chest, he rolled her over much like Macho did to Titi with one big paw when they’d played together and continued to pump until she came again. Then, he took his turn. As he lay with his head pressed between her breasts, he murmured. “Man, holding back is harder without a condom.”

  “Get off me, you big lout. I tried to make you come first, my treat, since you were so considerate last time.”

  “Don’t pout, Princess. You didn’t enjoy it?”

  “Oh, shut up! I enjoyed it—twice—before you did.”

  “Thought so.” He bore that same slight smile again. Wrapping blonde ringlets around his fingers on either side of her face, he kissed that pout away, then tucked her against his chest. They lay there quietly, letting their heart rates lessen and the sweat dry on their bodies.

  “I’ve been thinking,” Dean said.

  “About?”

  “I really can’t get away easily during the season, but we have a bye week coming up in October. I remember how it helped when Mama Nell took me to place flowers at my mother’s niche. I guess she’d call it closure. When I can swing a day off, we should drive back to the ranch and put flowers on Titi’s grave, maybe even get a little marker for her and Macho.”

  Stacy experienced a small pang in her heart. For the past half hour, she’d forgotten the reason that brought Dean to her house and into her bed. “I’d like that very much.”

  “Good. It’s a date then. We still shouldn’t be seen in public together, but th
is is more important and personal. Mitch will have to understand.”

  “Yoo-hoo, Stacy. I’m home,” Xochi called, using the fake Ricky Ricardo accent she liked to put on when joking. “I brought leftovers, good ones.”

  “Go away!” Stacy shouted as loud as she could, but clearly Xo had entered the kitchen to stow the food. Her next stop would be the living room to turn on the TV where strewn clothing, both male and female, cluttered the way. Silence, absolute silence, then Xochi’s light footsteps on the upper stairs.

  “I am placing the clothes of the absolutely anonymous man in there with you outside the door. Yours, too. You know how I hate a messy living room. Now, I am backing slowly away. I have a sudden yen to visit my brother Tom across the street. I might be gone as long as an hour. Who knows? Plenty of jambalaya in the fridge to feed two. I’m going, going—gone.” Xochi’s feet hit the stairs and continued all the way to the bottom. She made a point of slamming the door.

  “I never realized Xo had such a great sense of humor,” Dean said.

  “Oh, what you don’t know about Xochi would amaze you.”

  “Jambalaya sounds good, and I never did get that coffee.”

  “Well, if you’d rather eat first…”

  “Maybe just a snack. We have a whole hour and maybe more if I call Tom and ask him to keep her at our place.”

  “That works for me.” Stacy left the bed and moved naked to her closet. This time she found a pink lace nightie worthy of the occasion and drew it slowly over her head. “Let’s eat.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Dean went into the locker room to use his phone during a break in practice. Tom craned over his shoulder trying to see what he was doing. “You’ve been on your phone every spare second we get. Trying to call Stacy?”

  “No, something else. Last night we talked about our old dogs. At least, I think we were talking about dogs. I’m not too clear on that, but I’m trying to track down another Bichon Frise for her. The AKC has a site that will find a puppy for me within a hundred miles of New Orleans. I bet I won’t have to go that far. Maybe I can pick up the dog on Saturday morning before we take off for Dallas. Stace was so broken up over losing Titi I want to do this for her.”

  Tom offered his mischievous leprechaun’s grin. “Oooh, Mr. Sensitivity. You had to stay and comfort her, huh?”

  “You could call it that. Do you think Xo really didn’t know who Stacy had in her bedroom?” Dean’s fingers continued to flick against the screen.

  “If she couldn’t figure it out, she’d have checked your wallet to be sure. The mysterious Xochi knows all and sees all.” Tom moved his hands as if clearing the fog inside a crystal ball to get a better look at someone’s future. “She could make it as a fortuneteller if being an interpreter didn’t pay more.”

  “Do you really think she checked my pockets? My condoms were still in there. She’ll know we had unprotected sex.”

  “How was that? I always follow Dad’s Rule Number One: Never forget the condom.”

  “Great, really great. Having a woman you can trust like this is fantastic. Your day will come. Thanks for keeping Xochi occupied for a few hours.”

  “No problem. We played foosball. Xo is remarkably good at it, very quick. Too bad she isn’t taller, bigger, and a guy. She could replace Prince on the team. We ended up tied. When I got tired of being jealous that you were in bed with a beautiful woman and I wasn’t, I walked her home.”

  “Good timing, too. We passed on the way.”

  “Oh, Xo had a phone call before we left. I suspect Stacy gave her the all clear to return.”

  “Not psychic after all. What a disappointment. Got one! A private breeder on the North Shore, Covington, has one pup left from a litter. I’m telling him I want the dog.” Dean’s fingers flew on the virtual keyboard.

  Coach Marty Buck stalked from his inner sanctum where at his age he might have been taking a power nap, not that anyone would dare suggest it. More crotchety than ever, he shouted, “Put those damned gadgets away and get your asses out on the field. Big game Sunday. Move it, move it, move it!” When Buck barked, the players obeyed.

  ****

  Burdened with a pet carrier and a large PetSmart bag containing kibble, bowls, training pads, a leash, collar, and a doggie bed he thought might match the décor because Stacy would care about that, Dean rang the bell in the cul-de-sac midmorning, Saturday, using his shoulder. He’d called first wanting to make certain she’d be in.

  “Sure, come over. I’m not doing anything better than studying my Spanish medical terms. Xochi is out interpreting for a Portuguese sailor who jumped ship here and got picked up by immigration. I have coffee and chocolate croissants. No scones, sorry,” she teased.

  Dean noticed her blue eye at the peephole. “Stand directly in front of the door,” she shouted. Good, she’d learned caution after Prince. He held up the carrier. She opened the deadbolt. Man, she looked fine wearing just a plain white shirt and a pair of slim black slacks with those sparkly pink flip-flops on her feet.

  “I wondered why you didn’t use your key.”

  “Hands full and I didn’t want to set this stuff down in the alley. No telling who peed or puked there lately. I brought you a present.” He offered her the carrier where a small black nose poked through the grill.

  She didn’t reach for it but started up the stairs. In the kitchen where her laptop sat open and a half-eaten croissant lay on a silver-rimmed plate, he sat the crate on the floor. “It’s a puppy, a Bichon Frise, but not a Bitchin’ Freeze.”

  “I can tell that. Dean, this is so kind and thoughtful, but I’m not ready for a Titi replacement yet.”

  Could it be he’d made her sadder? Dean knelt down and opened the cage. A small snowball of a dog jumped out. He scooped it up before it could make a break into the living room and held the pup under its forelegs with its belly stretching down. It squirmed to get free, as hard to handle as a wet football. “It’s not a Titi replacement because it’s a boy. See?”

  Stacy looked at the tiny pink and white penis sticking out of the white fur. She smiled. Good deal. “Definitely male.”

  Dean moved closer, and the pup licked her face with little pink-tongued kisses. Now who could resist that? Unfortunately, the newly liberated and excited dog started to pee.

  “Aim away from the laptop!” Stacy cried. Her crisp white blouse already bore a yellow stain.

  Dean set the puppy on the floor. It took off running, circled the couch three times and started to raise a leg by the end table. “No! Bad dog!” He stopped the desecration in time. “There’s training pads in the bag. Everything you need really, according to the PetSmart clerk.” Dean drew out the doggie bed. “Look, gray with a purple lining. You won’t even notice it a corner of the room.”

  The puppy began to explore again, returning and sniffing Stacy’s naked toes. He followed that up with a lick of approval. She giggled. Stacy Polasky giggled. Now that came as a complete surprise. In the past, she’d mostly snarled at him.

  “If you don’t want him, I understand. I’ll take him back when I return from Dallas, but the breeder is across the lake. Can’t do it today. I have a plane to catch in a couple of hours.”

  Gazing down on the dog’s curly head, Stacy said, “Maybe you should keep him.”

  Visions of returning to a condo smelling of urine-soaked pee pads and finding his Italian leather loafers punctured by small teeth marks danced through his head. Not to mention the ragging he’d take from the team for buying a fluffy lapdog. Some of them owned pit bulls. He’d never hear the end of it.

  “Um, I’m gone too much. I’d just have to ask you or Xochi to take care of him while I’m away. If you could keep him over the weekend, I’ll take him back Monday. I promise. He was the last of the litter, so he’ll be all alone for a while.” Dean appealed to her with his own version of puppy dog eyes.

  Begging to be picked up, the puppy whimpered and put his paws on Stacy’s knees. “You’re hoping I’ll fall in love
with him while you’re away.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Too late.” She held the pup against her damp blouse. “I’m already in love.”

  Dean stilled and said not a word. Did she mean with him or the dog? No room for error here.

  “His name will be Mati in memory of Macho and Titi.”

  Oh good, the dog, but still he felt a tinge of disappointment. She’d wanted to marry him at the age of fourteen, but what about now? “You always had a way with words. I don’t.”

  “French immersion program in school, practicing my Spanish with Corazon. Italian wasn’t all that hard to pick up.” She shrugged her shoulders modestly and put Mati down.

  Yeah, Dean wondered what words she’d practiced with Dr. Ugo Rivera, but he said, “I’m glad you’re going to keep him. I figure he’ll bark if a stranger comes around, and if he takes after Titi, maybe he’d bite an ankle to protect you when I’m on the road.”

  “I’m sure he would.” Stacy set out the bowls and filled them with puppy chow and water. She placed a training pad in the laundry area and the dog bed near the sofa. “All set up.”

  “There’s a blue collar and leash in the bag, too. Promise me you will never humiliate this dog by putting a rhinestone collar on him or having his nails painted.”

  Stacy stepped forward and tugged on his collar. “I promise.”

  Dean didn’t care if she smelled of puppy pee instead of perfume. He stripped her of the damp shirt and opened her front-clasped bra to spill her full breasts into his hands. He didn’t bother with her trim black slacks before carrying her up to the bedroom, this time held close to his chest with her head on his shoulder. Normally, he wouldn’t engage in sex the day before a game, saving his energy for his job, but what the hell, nothing was normal about what he felt for Stacy.

  “How long do you think it takes to interpret for a Portuguese ship jumper?”

  “No telling,” Stacy answered. “Don’t you have a plane to catch?”

  “I’ve got enough time.” He shut the bedroom door with one loafered foot.