I wrap my arms around his neck, tangling my fingers in the hair on the top of his head. I love it. My nose is next to his ear and I circle the shell with the tip of my nose. He groans at the tender gesture.
“Mine,” he says low as he pulls out and plunges back in. The hold on his control obviously slipping. And I love it. I love that I can make him this way. “Mine,” he growls. As he plunges in again and again.
“Yes,” I rasp as his nose slides up the side of my neck, his mouth now next to my ear.
“Say it,” he commands.
“Yes,” I rasp again. Holt nips at my ear as he thrusts his cock deep. Again and again. It’s building and I don’t want it to stop. I don’t think I can stop it. The sting from his teeth hurtling me closer to the edge.
“Say it!” he growls as he pumps faster and faster. Harder and harder. He’s getting closer too and he can’t stop it.
“I’m yours!” I scream. “I have always been yours.” I chant as Holt pulls my body flush with his, as he moves inside me.
I hear a splintering crack but it doesn’t register what that means in my sex fogged brain until we’re falling. Falling. Falling to the floor. Holt’s knees and forearms break my fall. His cock still deep inside me.
I lay back and his arms cage around my head. Holt’s strong chest pressed tight to my breasts. My arms are still wrapped around his neck and he stare into my eyes and he moves again. I moan as he moves again. Slower this time. But I’m still sensitive from the incomplete orgasm.
“Mine,” he says as he kisses me. I wrap my legs around his waist as he slides in and out. In and out.
“Yes,” I breathe as it builds again. “I’m yours,” I tell him. Wondering if it will always be this way. And unable to imagine it any less. Only more.
His mouth crashes down on mine again as he thrusts harder. He bares his teeth against my mouth as he picks up his pace. Harder and harder. Faster and faster. Desperately chasing what we missed when I fell off of the barstool.
I feel his thighs flex against my backside and I know that he’s close. So close. I am too, as he pumps again and again.
“Only mine,” he chants. His fist tangling in my hair at the back of my head. “Only mine.”
“Only yours,” I answer. So close, my whole body twitches with an awareness of all that is Holt and me. And in this moment, there is only one answer. So I give it to him. “I’m only yours. I love you, Holt.”
My words cause him to stutter sharp thrusts. Holt thrusts his head back and growls as he loses the tight rein he had on his control and comes. Magnificently. I am so taken with him in this moment, that I don’t realize my own climax is upon me until I arch my back, elongated my neck as my nails dig into Holt’s shoulder blades, no doubt drawing blood, and scream as I follow him over the edge.
When the fog rolls away, I realize Holt is raining sweet kisses over my eyelids, my cheeks, my lips, my nose, as he softly glides in and out of me, savoring the moment. A shiver rolls up my spine with the delicious tingles, causing him to freeze, his big palms on either side of my face, staring into my open eyes.
“You love me,” He says not a question, but confirmation.
“Yeah, honey, I love you,” I swallow. In for a penny in for a pound. “I am in love with you, Holt. So, when I say that I’m yours, I’m yours for keeps,” I say softly. Holt closes his eyes and drops his forehead to mine. When he opens them again his eyes shine with confidence and...love.
“I love you, Liz. I always have,” he tells me. And I know so I tell him so.
“I know,” I smile at him.
“I’m yours too you know,” he tells me and I smile bigger.
“I know that now too, honey,” I say and he kisses me again.
This time not desperately but full of the passion and love held off by sixteen years and a lot of life. But now it’s all ours for the taking. This time is ours and it’s right. It’s so right. And I’m not going to let anything stop me from loving this man. So I show him the best way I can, by pouring all of that into my kiss.
Slowly, gently, our kiss changes. It evolves. It becomes more involved. And then, on the floor of his kitchen, our kitchen, surrounded by the smashed remains of an old barstool and another toppled over, Holt made love to me. Soft and sweet, slow and gentle, both of us finding completion wrapped up in each other. Together. And Holt, for the first time in all of his thirty six years on this earth, was late to work.
***
After Holt left for work, I stood there staring with my hands on my hips at the smashed barstool with a stupid grin on my face. Eventually, I just shrugged it off and went on about my business. Literally, I caught up on work.
By lunchtime, Holt called to say that he was taking me to Father’s for dinner. I smile as I talked to him on the phone like a preteen. But damn it if he didn’t make my day.
Once I was caught up with some work, I fretted about what to wear to dinner. I took a shower, I blow dryed my hair. Then I was afraid it looked too styled so I scrunched it up a bit. Then I did my makeup in soft pinks and browns. We’re just going to the local tavern after all. But I did feel pretty good when I slicked my favorite rose gloss on my lips.
Then I walked into our closet. After our rendez-vous on the kitchen floor this morning, Holt moved all of my clothes from the closet in the spare bedroom to his. So, standing there, naked from the shower, and seeing all of our clothes touching, I freaked the fuck out. Not in a bad way, just in a I have no fucking clue what I’m doing kind of a way. It’s been almost twelve years since the last time I dated anyone!
So I decided on jeans and a cute breezy floral blouse with mid length sleeves, layered over a black, lace trimmed tank. I topped it off with black ballet flats and a black peacoat that’s hanging on the coatrack by the front door.
So, here I am, twisting my hands, hoping I look okay and that I don’t disappoint Holt when the door opens and he walks in. He takes one look at me in his house, dressed, ready to go out, and smiles. Then he walks to me and frames my face in his hands and smiles as he kisses me sweetly.
“Give me ten, yeah baby?” he says against my mouth. I just nod and then he takes off up the stairs.
And he took exactly ten minutes to shower, he didn’t shave off his afternoon beard and it’s sexy as hell. Holt strolls down the stairs in a black button down shirt with the cuffs rolled, exposing his corded forearms and the veins that run up them that drives me absolutely insane. He’s got well worn jeans that are molded to his strong legs, a brown belt, and boots. His eyes twinkle as he grabs his leather jacket and then holds the door open for me.
Holt locks the house up behind us and then opens the door to his truck for me. He goes so far as to lean in close, and I mean close, to buckle my seatbelt for me. He kisses the tip of my nose after the belt clicks into place. And then winks at me as he slams my door closed before rounding the hood and hopping in.
The drive to Father’s is short but I spent the whole time worrying what his family will think when we walk into their restaurant obviously together. Or is he going to pretned like we’re not together. Shit! Are we even together?! Of course we are. He said I was his and he is mine. We’re together. That much I know to be true. I’m so lost in my thoughts that I don’t even realize he’s parked the truck in the lot and killed the engine.
“Relax, baby,” he says softly. Placing his palm on my cheek, he gently turns my face to look at him. “It’s all going to be okay, you just have to relax and trust me. Okay?”
“Okay,” I nod and he steals my breath with the most magnificent smile I have ever seen.
“Okay,” he says before kissing me sweetly and then hopping from the truck.
He walks around and opens my door for me and then holds my hand as I hop down. We walk hand in hand to the front door. Holt stops and pulls the door open for me and I smile brightly up at him for taking such sweet care of me. The door has barely closed when a glass beer mug smashes to the wall just to the right of Holt’s head, breaking us fre
e of the love bubble that we’re in.
“You have some explaining to do, you son of a bitch!” Katy screams. And I mean screams. She’s tough, but I don’t think I have ever heard her lose her cool like this before. And I’m not embarrassed to admit, I’m a little afraid, so I quietly take a step to the side, away from Holt and out of Katy’s line of fire. But my progress is halted when Holt’s strong arm snakes out and clamps around my shoulders, pulling me back so I’m flush to his side. I can’t help but roll my eyes. I see his own narrow out of the corner of my line of sight. The move makes the tension leak out of Katy’s body and she laughs.
“What’s going on here?” I ask, instantly wishing I hadn’t because Katy stops laughing and narrows her gaze on Holt who is intently staring at his boots. I sigh turning to him. “What did you do?”
“I’ll tell you what he did!” booms a big man with jet black hair and eyes of coal. His skin is tanned and he has tattoos running down each arm and up his neck. It takes me a minute to recognize him. I haven’t seen him in fifteen years, since Sam was still in the service, but I would know him anywhere.
“SCUBA?” I ask. “What are you doing here?”
“I live here now…” He pauses. “Well, I work here. At the department, for Holt. But I’m apparently homeless and it’s all Holt’s fault,” I can’t help but laugh as Holt’s face turns beet red.
“Well…” Holt starts.
“Well, what?” I ask. But SCUBA turns to face me completely and Holt and I both gasp at the huge bandage covering his left eye. “Where did you come from? Where did you go? Where did you come from cotton eye Joe?” I couldn’t help it. Really, I couldn’t. It just kind of fell out of my mouth. Katy throws her head back and laughs. Holt’s mouth twitches, but he’s actively looking anywhere but at Katy, SCUBA, and me. SCUBA’s gaze narrows on mine and I break. “I’m sorry. It was a knee jerk reaction.”
“Speaking of jerks…” Katy starts. “Holt, here, didn’t tell me that he was moving SCUBA here into my house…”
“Well…” Holt starts.
“And he told me he was going to. And that everything was going to be just fine!” SCUBA says.
“About that…” Holt trails off.
“And then when I walked in, with your key, she punched me in the face. And then broke a vase over my head.”
“I thought you were a burglar!” she defends.
“That a girl!” I cheer. “Sorry, SCUBA, but it’s what a young woman should do when she thinks there’s a prowler in her house.”
“No, she should call the cops!” Holt yells. We all turn and stare at him. Holt realizes his mistake after his outburst and looks back to the floor.
“Oh no you don’t!” Katy shouts.
“Look, I’m sorry. He has nowhere to live because the hotel is booked solid for that fishing tournament. I forgot to call. I got wrapped up in some things at home,” he pleads. I immediately feel my face heat.
“Looks like you got caught up in someone…” SCUBA comments and my face burns.
“Yeah, about that…” He starts.
“I’m happy for you both,” Katy says softly. “Go sit down and I’ll bring you guys the specials.” And just like that, all is forgiven. She hugs me tightly and kisses my cheek. Katy is the only one who knows what my grief is like, living it herself. But I found Holt and am starting over, Katy is still waiting. I look closer at her and see a hope sparkle in her eyes that I’ve never seen before. Yep, Katy might just be okay too. And with that I smile and follow Holt to our table for dinner.
CHAPTER 28
Aliza
Monday
“Monday’s child is fair of face…”
Monday is here before we know it. Holt’s mom and I could not have bought one more stitch of baby clothes, one more infant toy or, another blanket. We bought them all. I thought for sure, at some point in time, Holt would freak the fuck out, but he just smiles indulgently, lovingly at his mom and me.
The nursery at Holt’s house is full of cribs and camo bedding, Holt’s one demand was the little buck theme. His mom, Stella, found a gorgeous rocker and ottoman at a local furniture store. It’s upholstered all over in a beige corduroy and I love it. I might sleep in it. Curtains were lovingly hung by a sweet Holt who smiled a sweet smile as he climbed on a ladder with his drill in hand. I thanked him later by letting him use a different drill when we went to bed.
There is a stroller in the back of my new Volvo. Car seats have been installed in the back of my car, Holt’s non-department truck, and his parents car. We are ready.
We are standing at the window, looking out over the tarmac at the local airport which is about thirty five miles from Tall Pines, on the Louisiana side. Holt has his arm wrapped around my shoulders as we silently wait for the plane with the boys and their social worker to land.
I was surprised to find out that it didn’t take very long for all of the I’s to be dotted and the T’s to be crossed marking Holt and I legal guardians of Hannah’s children, with the option to adopt in six months if there are no arguments from their father’s family. Late one night, when I cried over the thought of someone taking them from us, some distant relative of a murdering mad man, I bawled my eyes out. I cried until there were no tears left to cry. And then Holt promised me that nothing would take our family from us. He would die first. And then I cried even more because I couldn’t handle the thought of losing him too. Poor Holt is living with a crazy person.
I take a deep breath and slowly let it out. His hand tightens on my shoulder and I lean my head against his shoulder. I can’t help but feel like with Holt, it’ll all be okay.
“You ready, baby?” he asks softly. His nose and his breath tickling my ear.
“Yeah,” I nod my head. “I’m so ready.” And I am. I cannot wait to hold these boys in my arms. I can’t wait to take them home with me.
“Poor Diablo won’t know what hit him,” he tells me and I giggle, making him look down at me and smile. “I love that sound,” he says, his eyes twinkling.
“Me too,” I tell him. “And what about you, handsome? Are you ready to be a dad?” I ask him. And when he looks at me, I feel the weight of the words that he is about to give me.
“Baby, I was born ready to be a parent with you. This is everything I have ever wanted. You and these boys are everything I have ever wanted. Not this way, but I want them with all that I am.”
“You sure?” I ask. “Babies are a lot of work. Especially, eight week old babies. They cry and they poop and they never sleep when you want them too,” I tell him seriously.
“And babies grow overnight and learn to smile and to laugh. To crawl and to walk. And eventually they learn to run and play football. Hunt and fish,” he smiles sweetly. I couldn’t imagine Holt being any more perfect than he is right now. “But what about you, doll?”
“What about me?” I tilt my head at his question. “I have done the baby thing. I know how crazy it is,” I smile at him to let him know that I am okay. I have made peace, largely due to Holt and his love, over the loss of my girls. I know I won’t get to see them grow up but I will give that to Hannah’s boys.
“Boys,” he answers. “Boys are messy and dirty. They like dirt and chasing frogs and farting. Are you ready for that?” he asks me.
“Oh yes,” I smile. “I am so ready.”
The plane is moving in on the horizon. The entire airport lounge takes a collective breath. And it is full of everyone we know. Tall Pines pretty much shut down to welcome our babies home. Behind me stands Cody and a Angie, Mable, Holt’s parents, SCUBA and Katy, Mayor Hart, Ben and Charlie, Hunter, Tate, the county Game Warden, and all her hilariousness, and everyone else.
The plane touches down and skids across the tarmac, coming to a complete stop as Holt pushes open the door and we walk out, together, hand in hand, just like we were always supposed to.
The door opens and a handsome man that I don’t recognize opens the door. Two women about in their fifties step out, each carrying
a small bundle wrapped in blue. I take a deep breath, tears are burning down my cheeks. I’m so happy. It’s the same bright light burning in my chest that I felt each day that the girls were born.
Holt’s hand squeezes mine, silently asking me if I’m okay. I look up at him and smile brightly, my tears flowing unchecked. Holt’s blues are streaming too. He feels it too. This moment, while tinged in sadness, but I can feel Hannah here with me. I know it. I feel it. she is here, telling me, showing me that it’s all going to be okay.
“Sheriff Stone?” a woman asks.
“Please, call me Holt, ma’am,” he tells her.
“Holt, Aliza?” I nod at her soft spoken question. “I’d like to introduce you to your boys. This is Ford and Imelda has Colton.”
Without thinking, I reach forward, taking Ford in my arms. I peel the blanket back and the most beautiful baby looks up at me and blinks. He has a mess of black hair and bright blue eyes. And fair skin with rosy cheeks. He looks like he could be Holt’s biological child. I let the small smile on my face spread and Ford looks at me...and smiles. I tip my head back and look to the sky, you’re so right Hannah, it’s all going to be alright. Thank you for this beautiful gift. I will treasure it always. I will protect it with my life.
I look to Holt, who has Colton in his arms. He turns to me and has the biggest smile on his face. His tears have run dry and there is nothing but happiness washing his face. This, this is the look of a proud new dad. I tip my head back and laugh as he lets out a whoop startling the baby in his arms. He quickly does the dad bounce wiggle dance to settle Colt down. Colt and Holt. Meant to be. Another blessing to thank Hannah and Sam for. They paved this way for us and after their deaths led us to this moment of beauty.
A cheer goes up from the crowd behind us. The doors are closed, but you can hear them anyway as they celebrate the birth of our new family. The pilot, a gorgeous woman with auburn hair walks down the stairs with a big diaper bag over her shoulder.
Whiskey Lullabye (Southern Heartbeats, Vol. 2) Page 12
