The Baby Mission

by Vivian Wood

  “What the hell?” he asked quietly to the closed door. Cade slowly made his way to his own apartment.

  I have to get out of this neighborhood.

  As Cade turned on the water in his bathroom, he replayed what had just happened in his head.

  Was there anything different I should have done? I mean, the guy was clearly going to keep going like some kind of meth machine. No matter how Cade spun it, he didn’t know what else he was supposed to do. Let’s just add that to one of several past incidents of adjacent woman abuse.

  He shook his head as he splashed the lukewarm water on his face. It was too much, all of these incidents. Triggering, Dr. Hersh like to say. But he couldn’t help it. Every time he saw a woman being assaulted or attacked by a man, he was three years old all over again.

  “Mama?” He remembered searching for her throughout the house. It was close to Christmas, and for once his parents had put up a tree. It had big, multicolored lights on it. The kind meant for outdoors, but it was all they had.

  And beneath the tree? Three presents. One for each of them. Cade had spent days shaking his present and trying to figure out what it was. “Mama? Where are you?”

  “Go back to bed, Cade.” His mom’s voice was strong in the kitchen, but there was a whisper of a waver.

  He raced toward the kitchen where the bright lights shone overhead. “Mama! Is Santa coming—”

  He remembered how the words fell out of him when he walked into the kitchen. His dad, seemingly eight feet tall, stood over his mom with a belt in his hands.

  “Why don’t you ever listen to your mama?” his dad slurred.

  He staggered toward Cade, but nearly lost his balance. His dad grabbed for the heavy kitchen table to steady himself.

  “Cade, I said go back to bed.”

  His mom was crumpled on the floor and she held one hand over her right eye. Her lip was split and blood pooled in her collarbone.

  “Mama, you’re bleeding—”

  “I’m okay. I just… I fell when your daddy and I were playing.”

  “Hell, Dolores, how the hell long you gonna keep pampering this kid? Turning him into a goddamned faggot—”

  “Don’t—”

  His dad turned and slashed the belt across her head again. He heard the ring of where the metal belt hit her jaw.

  “Don’t you dare talk … talk back to me.”

  “Mama!” Cade cried.

  He wanted to run to her, but his legs were frozen. His mom swayed on the floor. She looked drunk, just like his dad. A noise erupted from her, scared and small like an animal. Suddenly, his legs started to work.

  He rushed at his father and dropped his blanket in the process.

  “Don’t hurt Mama,” he yelled. But when he ran against those tall legs, big and strong as tree trunks, his dad didn’t move. Instead, he laughed.

  “Well, looka that!” his dad said. “Maybe there’s a man in there after all.”

  Cade didn’t know why, and he didn’t like it, but those words brought a rush of pride through him. Then he felt the metal against his back. Any strength he had drained out of him and he fell to his knees. When he looked up, tears in his eyes, his dad smiled with the belt securely in his hand.

  “Might be a man in there,” his dad repeated. “But you still ain’t got nothin’ on me. You come at me again, boy, I’mma kill her. You hear me? I’mma kill your mama. And make you watch.”

  Cade pressed the towel firmly against his eyes at the memory. Every time. Every time he saw a woman getting abused, he was three years old again.

  As he got dressed, he remembered what Dr. Hersh had said about those techniques.

  Did I try breathing? Did I stop, remove myself from the situation? No—but was there even a chance to?

  What was he supposed to do? Just excuse himself while a woman was running for her life so he could take a leisurely stroll around the block?

  “Fucking Dr. Hersh,” he said. He slipped into some new jeans and pulled a t-shirt overhead.

  Yeah, those are great techniques when you’ve got all the time in the world. It was fucking stupid.

  Still. Maybe the next time he could do something, catch himself before he flew totally out of control. After all, he hadn’t needed to beat that guy as badly as he did.

  He clearly didn’t know how to fight, and he was high as hell. Would it really be that hard to disarm someone, even if all they had were their own fists, when they were in that kind of state?

  Cade mulled it over as he got into his car and headed toward his appointment. Maybe he could ask Dr. Hersh for some more realistic tips and techniques. After all, he couldn’t blame the doctor.

  Who the hell lived in the kind of place where men went running after their girlfriends, hellbent on beating them? Probably not Dr. Hersh. That didn’t really seem to be his scene.

  As Cade pulled up to the office, he realized he was early. He sat in the car and gripped the wheel tightly.

  Breathe. He counted to ten and focused on fully filling and emptying his lungs. By the time he finished the first round, he felt a bit lightheaded but also calmer.

  Hell. Maybe these things really do work.

  Cade glanced at his watch. Ten minutes until his appointment. He got out of the car, pulled his jacket on, and started to walk down the block. It was a part of town he’d never been to before.

  Once he turned the corner, he noticed a park across the street. Canadian geese squawked and chased after little kids who held big bags of bread when they got too close. The parents took photos and laughed as they perched on the benches.

  When he turned the next corner, he saw a bakery. It filled the street with an aroma that reminded him of Lily. Baguettes lined up in the window like soldiers. By the third corner, he looked forward to whatever he might find next.

  Maybe those walks worked. Maybe what Dr. Hersh has been saying would really work.

  22

  Lily

  Her heart fluttered when she heard his knock at the door. Lily pulled the Alsatian bacon and onion tart out of the oven and set it beside the tarte Tatin she’d whipped up earlier that day.

  “Glad you could make it,” she said as she opened the door.

  “Well, this isn’t quite as sexy as the lavender robe… and what you had, or didn’t have on, underneath, the last time…” Cade said as he pulled playfully at her apron generously covered in flour and oil stains.

  Lily blushed. “I made you dinner.”

  “Yeah, but last time, dinner—well, dessert was code for something else.” Cade stepped into her living room and took off his jacket. “Can I help with anything?”

  “You’re not disappointed, are you?” Lily asked. A flurry of worries gathered in her stomach. “I mean, I thought actually making you dinner, you know, it would be—”

  “It’s great,” he said. Cade leaned down and kissed her lightly on the lips. “I was just teasing. And it smells amazing by the way. My offer to help is probably a bit empty. I’m pretty useless in the kitchen.”

  “I don’t know. I could probably think of a few uses for you,” she said with a wink. “But actually, if you want, you can open the white wine on the table. I couldn’t get it.”

  “That I can do.”

  Lily rushed into the kitchen and picked up the casserole dish. In the little makeshift breakfast nook, she scooted over the salad full of seasonal ingredients she’d picked up that morning.

  “Damn, that looks professional,” Cade said. “What do you call it?”

  “It’s just a kind of quiche,” she said. “Jean-Michel has been working on it with me.”

  Cade’s face clouded for a moment.

  “A Parisian man who can bake,” he said. “Tough to compete with that.”

  “What, you’re jealous?” she asked. Lily whipped off the apron and hung it on the hook overhead. “Do you think Jean-Michel is attractive?”

  “I don’t know if I’d say that,” Cade said quickly as he sat down across from her and filled
their wine glasses. “I mean, I only saw him once, that first time I went into the shop. I wasn’t exactly checking him out. I was kind of busy checking you out.”

  Lily felt her face turn even pinker as she sliced the quiche.

  “Well, it’ll break his heart, but I’m going to have to tell him the feeling isn’t mutual.” Lily slid a slice of the quiche—perfectly baked, she noted—onto Cade’s plate.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, Jean-Michel was certainly checking you out. I had to tell him not only are my brothers straight, but so is their best friend.”

  Cade nearly choked on his first bite. “Oh. You mean—”

  “A Parisian man that can bake? Yeah, sometimes it’s called a cliché for a reason.”

  “Well now I feel kind of stupid,” Cade said. “Thankfully, the most amazing dish ever makes up for it.”

  “You really like it?”

  “Before just now, I could honestly say I don’t like French food, but I think you just converted me.”

  Lily smiled and dug into her own slice. She was aware of the happy little bubble they’d created around themselves. Ten days.

  It had been ten days since they’d gotten together with no walls up. And she was scared to death that any minute it would come crashing down. She could feel how shaky and vulnerable it was.

  Of course it can’t last, she reminded herself every day. It made her grateful for every moment of happiness they did have together.

  Just don’t mess it up, she told herself.

  “Don’t fill up,” she said. “There’s still dessert.”

  Cade’s ears perked up at that. “And by dessert, you mean—”

  “Tarte Tatin. Come here, I’ll show you.” She stood up, finished her wine in a single swallow, and pulled him into the kitchen.

  “You made this?” he asked.

  “Don’t act so surprised. I do work in a bakery.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “Don’t talk, just taste,” she said, and plucked a pinch of the sweet dessert out of the dish.

  When she brought her fingers to Cade’s lips, she truly intended to leave it as a sweet flirt. But as soon as she felt his lips on her fingertips, when he took her wrist and held her hand close—sucked her finger slowly—she knew the tarte would have to wait.

  “It’s sweet,” he said. “But not as sweet as you.”

  He hoisted her onto the counter and shoved the prep dishes out of the way. The sounds of the clang of them hitting the floor shrouded the groan in his throat.

  Cade reached up her thighs and searched for her underwear. All he found was her wetness, her want, and her heat.

  Cade cradled her jaw and leaned her head back.

  “Sneaky girl,” he said.

  Lily laughed. She heard the rattle of his belt. He squeezed the flesh of her thighs and brought her toward him. Just when she thought she was about to slip off the edge, he slid inside her.

  Lily wrapped her legs around his waist to hold him closer. She felt a tug at her chest followed by a series of pops as her snap-button shirt came undone. The air was cold on her breasts just long enough to harden her nipples, and then his mouth was on them.

  His tongue flicked across her nipples while she rode him as best she could perched on the counter.

  “You know you can see the shop from here,” he said into her ear.

  Lily’s eyes popped open. She tried to twist around to look out the kitchen window, but Cade held her close. Below, she saw broad backs clad in denim bent over vintage cars.

  “Shit,” she said.

  “Don’t be shy,” he said. “How about we give them a good show?”

  She knew if they were caught, she’d regret it the next day. The guys would give her knowing looks, and the loudmouthed one might even say something. But he felt so good.

  Damn, he just feels so good.

  Suddenly, Cade lifted her up. She squealed. “What are you doing?”

  “Changed my mind,” he said. “Decided I don’t want to share you.”

  With every step he walked her toward the bedroom, she held on tighter. With every step, she felt him sink deeper into her. Cade laid her on the bed and never exited her. He was on top of her, all-consuming, the only thing she could see or breathe. At that angle, he hit her G-spot just right.

  Lily moaned into his ear.

  “You’ve got me close,” she said.

  “Let go,” he urged. “Just know that when you do, I’m not going to stop. I want you to keep coming for me…”

  Lily felt the first orgasm build up at her center. She exploded onto him and called out his name the entire time. Cade slowed and worked every last layer of pleasure out of her.

  She was sensitive, but didn’t want to stop. As soon as she thought she could handle more, she whispered in his ear. “Hey. Where’s that second round you promised me?”

  Cade increased his pace, and Lily couldn’t tell if her first orgasm was still going or if it was a new one that built inside her. This time, when she reached her peak, he came with her.

  “That wasn’t the dessert I spent three hours making,” she said as he lay heavy on top of her.

  He laughed and pushed himself to one side. “Sorry. But I’m starving again now. Tarte in bed?”

  Lily walked to the kitchen, naked and not caring if the people below saw. She grabbed the entire dish and brought it to bed. Cade scooped out a piece with his fingers and popped it in his mouth.

  “Damn,” he said. “I never thought I’d think the whole Suzy Homemaker thing was so hot—”

  She smacked him playfully. “I’m not a homemaker,” she said. “Trust me, I wouldn’t have the calluses I do if I were.”

  “I didn’t mean it as an insult,” he said. “I’m just saying. You know, if we’re official or whatever … I’ve just never had a girlfriend before. And don’t think I’m complaining, but I didn’t think if I ever did that, you know, she’d be like you. You’re better than I could have ever imagined.”

  “Girlfriend?” she asked, shocked. “Official? What … what do you mean—”

  “Oh,” he said. “Sorry, I just kind of assumed. I mean, I thought we were on the same page—”

  “Yes! I mean, we are. I just… we didn’t even talk about it, so I thought…”

  “You thought what?”

  “You know, that we weren’t putting a label on it. Or whatever.”

  Cade laughed. “Is that the kind of guy you think I am?”

  Lily looked down at the dessert, embarrassed.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “It’s not just you. Every guy in his twenties, I thought that was the thing. The whole play it cool until you get married schtick.”

  Cade laughed harder. “I’d like to think there would be a little more communication between meeting and getting married. I mean, if we have kids, I’d rather it not be a surprise.”

  “You want kids?” she asked. With me?

  “I never thought about it seriously, but, yeah. I think I do. One day. Don’t you?” he asked. “Although I have to be totally honest. There’s a part of me that kind of hopes for a redo of my own childhood. But I guess we all bring our baggage to the kid thing, right?”

  “Talking about kids right now is a little too weird,” she said. “But, yeah, I agree. One day. How about we just stick with the whole boyfriend-girlfriend thing for now?”

  “Okay. So… do we need to pinky swear or something? How do you make it official?”

  “I think a pinky swear will work fine,” she said. As he looped his finger through hers, she couldn’t remember ever being so happy.

  23

  Cade

  My receptionist just sent your clearance to Captain Crane.

  Cade stared at the text from Dr. Hersh. That’s it? he thought. It seemed too easy.

  Does that mean I can return to duty? he replied.

  You have medical clearance. Returning to duty is up to Captain Crane. Do you have time to talk?

  Cade gro
aned. He was so close and then Dr. Hersh threw in that little question. It was almost like being in a real relationship.

  Sure.

  Immediately, his phone rang.

  “Hey, Doc,” he said.

  “Good morning, Cade. I trust you’re happy with the medical clearance?”

  “Well, yeah. Of course.”

  “Good. I’m sure Captain Crane will have you on the team in no time.”

  “Crew,” Cade reminded him. “So if I’m cleared, what do you need to talk to me about?”

  “Well, medical clearance is a big step, but mental health and managing the kind of trauma you sustained is going to take much longer than the few sessions we’ve had. It’s my strong recommendation—and one that I included in your clearance—that we continue sessions.”

  “You want to keep seeing me,” Cade confirmed.

  “Yes, but not necessarily as frequently as we have been. My recommendation is twice a month.”

  “Huh.” Cade realized he didn’t hate the idea.

  He’d gotten used to Dr. Crane and the strange, sci-fi furniture that didn’t fit his personality. “I … I guess that would be okay.”

  “Great. I’ll have my receptionist call and set up our next few appointments.”

  Cade hung up and pulled on the most recent firehouse t-shirt.

  Might as well look the part when I arrive, he thought.

  He grimaced when he saw Aiden’s truck in the firehouse lot. Since the incident in the parking lot, he’d largely managed to avoid Aiden without Elijah getting suspicious.

  It was clear Aiden had avoided him, too. In order to keep up appearances, he’d asked Elijah out for drinks a couple of times. Both times, Elijah came alone.

  “Where’s Aiden?” he asked each time.

  Elijah always shrugged as he took a pull of beer. “Had something to do.”

  “The crew’s all here!” Elijah crowed as Cade walked in.

  The new recruits he’d trained clapped him on the back, but he saw Aiden with his jaw clenched in anger. Before Cade could figure out how to handle it, Aiden turned his back to him and went back to his task.