I can hear the stranger in my living room yelling. The sounds are not words—just unidentifiable, wild-sounding screams.
“Please,” I beg into the phone.
“Can you tell me if you’ve heard any gunshots?”
I pick Einstein up and drop him on the bed, finish getting the chair in place, then return to Dylan’s crib. With a swift scooping motion, I lift my wailing child from his bed. I hold him to me.
“Shhh, shh…Mamma’s here.” I bounce him up and down a few times, trying anything I can to calm him. He’s still crying as I respond to the dispatcher. “No gunshots,” I say.
Thankfully. I think of the guns that Garrett is wearing. I wonder if the intruder has firearms of his own.
Please, I pray, while rocking my son in my arms. Please, keep Garrett safe.
“The police are on their way up your stairs, now,” the dispatcher says.
With my eyes closed, I try to send Garrett a message.
Garrett—let the police take over, I think. Leave the intruder alive.
Let the law handle it.
You’re not a killer.
Not anymore.
Dylan and I need you.
“Police!” The shout cuts through the apartment, bouncing through the thin walls that separate off the bedroom. “Put your hands up!”
More glass shattering.
“I said, put your hands up! Hey—watch it—he’s going for the window.”
A crash resounds through the apartment, and then, there’s silence.
I let the phone fall from its position between my shoulder and cheek. It bounces off of the edge of the bed and comes to rest on the carpet. Dylan is still crying, but it’s quieter, now. I bounce him up and down, straining my ears to hear more sounds.
From the cop’s yelling, I gather that they’re getting the intruder into cuffs.
But what about Garrett? Where is he? Is he hurt?
Is he dead?
I hug Dylan to my chest, until there’s a forceful knock on the bedroom door. “Anyone in here?” an authoritative voice asks.
I’m moving the chair as the knock comes again.
“Yes,” I manage to say. “Y-yes—hold on a minute.” I unlock the door and pull it open. “What happened?” I ask. “Is Garrett okay?”
“This way,” the police officer says.
He leads me to the living room, and I see him. Garrett is kneeling on the floor with his hands behind his back in cuffs. Across the room, also on the floor, I see an overweight man, also in cuffs. The intruder. He’s drooling slightly at the mouth, and spitting out obscenities at the same time. An officer stands above him.
I point to Garrett. “This is my boyfriend,” I say. “Garrett…” I kneel down next to him. “Are you okay?”
He meets my eyes and nods. There’s a cut above his brow, and glistening, crimson blood is snaking down his face.
The officer who retrieved me from the bedroom speaks again. “Did he try to hurt you?” he asks.
“No! No, he was protecting me. Me and our son. That’s the guy who broke in.” I point to the overweight man.
The officer nods, and soon, another officer is unlocking Garrett’s cuffs.
As soon as Garrett stands, he wraps me in his arms. “It’s okay,” he says. “It’s okay.”
I’m shaking so violently, now, that I can barely hold on to Dylan.
The intruder is still cursing as the policemen get him to his feet and drag him from the apartment.
I tilt my face up and look into Garrett’s eyes. I’m so relieved that he’s okay. The sensation of relief fills me up—leaving no room for anger or resentment.
“Did he hurt you?” I ask. The trail of blood running from his cut has me worried.
“No,” he says.
“You’re bleeding.”
“I’m fine. Are you okay? Is Dylan all right?”
“We’re okay,” I say. “He was scared. He was crying. I think he’s fine, though.”
We both look down at the baby in my arms. Standing all together like this, just the three of us, gives me a moment of intense clarity. I don’t know if it’s the high of the adrenaline, or what, but in this instant, I am certain that this is what matters. The three of us—together. We’re a family.
The police officer clears his throat.
Garrett releases me. We both look to the officer.
“I’m going to need to get statements from both of you,” the police officer says. “Separately. Ma’am, were you the one to call in the break-in?”
“Yes.”
“Then, you’re up first.”
“Okay.”
Turning to Garrett, I focus my gaze intently on him. I want him to know that I’m going to do everything I can do to clear his name. I don’t blame him for what happened tonight. I’m just glad that he came home to Dylan and me.
Garrett nods subtly, and I see that he understands my message.
Holding our baby out to him, I ask, “Will you hold Dylan?”
As we transfer the baby, we come in close to each other once again. His nearness is comforting. His body is a force of protection. I accept that he’s put his hitman career behind him. It is clear to me that he’s made his choice.
He walks away from the living room, taking Dylan to the bedroom and giving me privacy to talk to the police. An officer follows him, though I’m not sure why.
I sink into the couch as the officer starts drilling me with questions.
“Why don’t you start by telling me your account of what happened here tonight?” he says.
“My boyfriend, Garrett Lawson, and I were in the living room when we heard the door breaking. I heard someone enter the apartment. Garrett told me to take our son and hide in the bedroom. I called for help when I got there. I could hear fighting, and then I heard you guys come in.”
“Have you ever seen that man before? The intruder?”
“Never.”
“What was your impression of what was happening in the living room, before we arrived?”
“I heard fighting,” I say honestly. “Garrett was defending us, sir. Any harm that he caused was only done in self-defense.”
The officer nods. He presses on with more questions—details about the events of the past few minutes, but nothing new comes out of our conversation. I keep repeating the fact that Garrett was acting in self-defense.
“Okay,” he says, flipping his notebook closed. “I’ll have my team talk to Garrett, now, and then if you feel safe, we’ll go. The man who broke into your apartment tonight is well known to us—he has an extensive track record, multiple arrests. This is his first break-in, but you never know what someone like that is thinking. I recommend that you invest in home security, or at least a deadbolt lock for your front door. Break-ins like this are more common every year, unfortunately.”
I nod, relieved to know that the man who broke into my home is now in police custody. It doesn’t sound like he’s going to be free for quite some time.
“Thank you, sir,” I say.
Twenty minutes later, Garrett and I say goodbye to the officers. Garrett is still holding Dylan. My arms are wrapped around Garrett’s waist. The door is splintered around the handle, but Garrett props it closed as best he can.
“We’re going to get a new door in the morning,” he says as the policemen’s footsteps fade into the distance.
Finally, it’s quiet. Garrett bends over me and kisses my forehead. I squeeze him tightly around the waist and lean my head against his sturdy torso.
“It’s over, sweetheart,” he says. “We’re safe.”
Despite the fact that my door is completely broken in, I feel truth in his words.
In Garrett’s embrace, I feel safe.
Chapter 21
Garrett
“I don’t think my landlord is going to be happy about the door,” Valerie says with a sigh.
We’ve just taken a shower together. Her hair is damp, and smells like coconut shampoo. We’re sitting on the
couch together and she is leaning against my shoulder, creating a damp spot on my fresh T-shirt.
“We’ll get a new one. A better one. Stronger and sturdier.” I stroke her arm as I talk. Her skin is soft under my touch.
She lets her knees, which are tucked up to her chest, fall into my lap. I place my free hand over her legs.
“When is your lease up, anyway?” I ask.
“Why?” She looks up at me. Her eyes are so beautiful. I stare into the forest green of her irises, flecked with gold, before speaking.
“We can’t live here forever.” I brush my hand against her cheek. She’s still staring up at me. “I have money saved up…I think we should look at houses.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Dylan will need a room of his own. And we need a bigger bedroom.”
“Garrett…that’s a big move. A major step. We’re still…figuring this out, aren’t we?”
I grin. Sometimes, given my history with school, I can barely believe I’ve ended up with a math teacher.
“This isn’t a math problem, Miss Brown,” I tease. “I know you’re used to hammering out all of the steps, but maybe this is simpler than that. Maybe we have it figured out already. We’re here, together, aren’t we?”
“We are.” She smiles.
“I’m not going to leave.” I rub my hand over her leg. “You and Dylan are my whole world, now. You’ve given me a new purpose.”
“Garrett, that’s—” She stops short, looking almost embarrassed by my statement. I know Valerie well enough now to know that she doesn’t get mushy all that often. She runs deep, but she rarely puts her emotions into words.
But sometimes, words are necessary.
“I mean it, Valerie,” I say. “For a long time—years, really—I didn’t know what my purpose was. But now that I have you in my life—you and Dylan—I know. I want to be the best man I can possibly be.”
“You already are, Garrett.”
I shake my head. “I can be better,” I say.
This is the truth. I feel it in my bones. Though I’ve always worked hard to fulfill the missions I’ve accepted, none has ever felt as important as the one before me, now. I know that it’s going to take every ounce of potential within me to be the father and partner that I want to be.
“You really want to move into a house together?” she asks. Her voice is dreamy. I can tell that she likes the idea.
I’m happy that she likes it. I keep on stroking her leg, running my hands up and down. She has her usual sleepwear on: a cotton nightgown with spaghetti straps that stops high on her thighs.
“Mm-hmm…” I say. “Something nice. Near this neighborhood, maybe, so that we could be near your mom. Would you like that?” I feel her nod. I keep talking. “Something with a big yard. Maybe we could get a puppy, for Dylan to play with. I’ve always wanted a dog, since I was a kid.”
“I think Dylan would like that,” she says softly. “I don’t know if Einstein would, though.” She laughs.
“We could build Einstein his own cat castle. He’ll be so preoccupied with the carpeted, three-tier landings that he won’t even be bothered by a puppy.”
“Oh, he’d like a castle. He thinks he owns this place, already. We’re serfs in his kingdom, doing his bidding.”
“I know,” I chuckle.
I’m imagining our home. A yard that I can mess around in—trimming the grass and setting up sprinklers to make sure the turf stays healthy. I’ll teach Dylan how to mow the lawn, when he’s old enough. We could play catch, too.
Valerie speaks, pulling me from my imaginings. “What about us?”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Well…Garrett, is this going to happen again? What happened tonight—your work…?”
I shift on the couch so that I can face her directly. I reach for her hands and hold them in mine.
“Never,” I say. “Nothing like this will ever happen again.”
I don’t go into the details, because I don’t want to scare her. But while she was in the shower, I called Clint. I told him that the target had been arrested, and would be behind bars for years. Clint said that was good enough, and that I was free.
Free.
I feel relief wash through me, even just thinking of the word.
First thing in the morning, I’m going to ditch the cellphone that connects me to Clint. Next, I’ll get rid of the guns. No more killing for me. No more violence.
I’m ready to start fresh.
“But Garrett,” Valerie says. “That was your life. Are you going to be able to walk away, just like that?”
“Yes,” I say. “And I’m not walking away from my old life…I’m walking towards a new one.”
I move my hands so that they’re cupping her face. I stroke my thumb against her cheek. She turns her face slightly and reaches up for my hand. Her eyes close. I feel her lips brush against my palm. I move closer, until my forehead is resting on hers. I close my eyes as well.
No words could possibly describe what is passing between Valerie and me right now. I feel completely connected to her. The edges of my body merge with hers; my borders recede. When she breathes, I wonder if I am breathing. The faint pulse in her lips and hands feels like the beating of my own heart.
In the darkness of my inner world, with my eyes closed, I feel more whole and complete than I’ve ever felt, in my entire life.
I inhale, sipping in a breath Valerie has just emitted. A force that feels like gravity is pulling me into her. She turns her face, and our lips connect. We kiss slowly and tentatively, as if it is our first kiss.
In a way, it is.
Every time we reach a new level in our relationship, our kisses become new again. And now, here on the couch, I feel like we’ve just crossed a line. It’s a line we can never go back from. We’re not just boyfriend and girlfriend anymore. We’re one. One unit. One team. One entity. Though we haven’t said it in so many words, our connection has deepened.
We’re going to get married. I don’t know when, and I don’t know how, but I’m going to marry this woman.
There’s so much love inside of me. I kiss her in the way I will kiss her when she’s my wife. I move my lips slowly, gently, still holding her face in my hands. I want her to know about this new love that lives inside of me, now. I want to share it with her.
I feel her falling backwards onto the couch cushions. I’m on top of her, running my hands through her hair, down her neck.
Softly, so softly, we continue to kiss. Our bodies begin to move, like subtle waves caused by a breeze, rippling across an otherwise smooth lake. Her body undulates gently beneath mine, and her kisses deepen.
We’ve made love many times, since the first night we met. Sometimes, our lovemaking is playful and fun; sometimes, it’s so passionate and wild that I feel out of my mind with lust. Tonight, though, our movements are slow and tender. I’m not out of my mind, surrendering to the animalistic lust of my body. I’m completely present, filled with awe and gratitude.
Valerie slips her hands under my T-shirt. I feel her soft, warm palms against my chest. I’m holding myself up slightly, so that I don't crush her with my weight. My muscles are strained. I feel her fingers caress my abdomen, running over the dips and bulges of my muscles.
Her hand travels lower, then runs along the waist of my sweats. Her touch makes me harder. I feel my package bulging as her fingers dip beneath the elastic of my pants.
I part her lips with my tongue. She opens her mouth slightly. I move my tongue inside of her at the same time as gently moving my hips and pelvis against her.
We’re quiet. The living room is dark and still.
Her fingers wrap around the waistband of my pants, pulling them down. I feel her shimmying her panties down as well, and then removing them all together.
All the while, I keep on kissing her. Exploring her mouth gently with my tongue. A sense of aliveness and immediacy is running through my veins. Nothing matters—nothing outside of this mome
nt: the movement of our tongues, our lips, the warmth of her naked thighs.
She parts her legs. My hard member moves against the warmth of her opening. The wetness of our kiss complements the wetness between her legs. I pull away long enough to reach for a condom from my wallet. Within a few seconds, I’ve rolled it over my hard, ready shaft.
When I lower myself down to kiss her again, our bodies unite effortlessly. As her lips meet mine, and my tongue enters her mouth again, I also feel my full member press into her. Her wet warmth envelops me. Instant, radiant pleasure consumes me.
We are still for a moment. I feel her body tremble. I know that this is as intense for her, as it is for me. We’ve never made love quite like this before.
Even in our stillness, waves of ecstasy are rolling through my body. This isn’t just physical pleasure. The sensations that run through my veins carry deep emotion.
I pull away from our kiss. I move my shaft further into her, a fraction of an inch. I hear her inhale.
“Valerie,” I whisper.
She wraps her hands around my back. I move again, just barely. She gasps again.
“Valerie, I love you,” I say.
My dick presses into her, deeper. She receives me. I feel her muscles tighten and contract. Again, her whole body trembles.
“Oh,” she says. “Oh!” she gasps in sharply.
“I love you,” I say again.
“I love you, Garrett,” she replies. Her voice is breathy. As she breathes in and out, I feel heat build between her legs. Our bodies are on fire. The energy passing between us is like lightning.
“I love you,” she repeats.
I can’t help but groan as another jolt of pleasure electrifies me. I begin to move in and out of her. My arms are braced against the couch cushion beneath her head. With concentration, I control my every movement.
I want this to be slow, gradual. I want to enjoy every moment.
Her legs are wrapped around my back. I thrust into her. She presses her pelvis into me. Our movements develop a steady, soft rhythm. Though we aren’t moving wildly, I feel the couch begin to shift beneath us, each time I thrust. My movement isn’t big, but it is powerful.
Secret Daddy Surprise - A Secret Baby Romance (Once a SEAL, Always a SEAL Book 4) Page 14
