Wrangled Mess

by Reese Madison

  “Sounds expensive.”

  “Lucky for me a beautiful woman is willing to let me sleep in her bed, and eat all her food and cookies. That should save me a ton of money the way I eat.”

  “You and your cookies. Hurry home sweetie. I miss you.”

  “I miss you too love. Mom will stay there with you until I get there. Okay?”

  “Can I keep Goat too?”

  He chuckled, “No honey, he’s no guard dog, just a dog. Ask him if Nine Hole can hang out on the front porch for a while until I get there.”

  “He can hang out inside Trace.”

  “Oh no, you don’t want that.”

  I laughed, “What? Why?”

  “He has a very unsavory diet. It gives him gas. A lot, of gas. Trust me, you don’t want him in your house. You think the cell phone stunk, let him hang around more than ten minutes.”

  “That’s just wrong.”

  “Tell me about it. I need to run baby, see you soon.”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you Cookie, with all my heart. Go have a glass of wine and relax. Between the cops and the club, this will be over soon. I promise.”

  “Okay.” I hung up and went back to Bina at the bar. “You’re right. He has everything under control.”

  “That’s my boy. He’s been in control since he was five. You know when I was fat with babies he’d cook for the whole family? He even seemed to enjoy it.”

  “I used to do that for my mom. My sister is a couple years older, but she was always out with the boys in her shorts skirts and pom-poms. She even married the quarterback. My brother is younger, but he has an old soul. Married his high school sweetheart too. I’ve always been the one busy making lunches and burying my nose in books.”

  “What made you want to become a psychologist?”

  “My dad. He’s really smart. We didn’t need spankings in our family growing up. Dad outsmarted us kids at every turn. I was the golden child, never got in trouble. My brother and sister on the other hand, they were always mad at Dad for not being able to get away with getting in trouble.”

  “I look forward to meeting him.” We went on to talk for a while longer, about Trace, where he grew up, how we grew up differently than I did, but somehow there were a lot similarities. It was a very interesting, and enlightening conversation.

  Nine Hole was happy to hang out on the porch. Bina and I decided to busy ourselves making cookies while we talked. We offered Nine Hole some cookies, but he refused saying they would mess up his insides. From the smell on the porch, I’m thinking his insides are messed up already.

  Trace finally got home about the time the sun set. By now I’ve got chicken marsala in the oven staying warm, two batches of cupcakes cooling on the counter, and two more batches of cookies cooling on racks, ready to go in containers. Bina and I were busy while we talked all afternoon.

  I dropped everything and ran to him. “Hey! It’s about time.”

  He cupped my face with bandaged hands and kissed my lips softly at first. I ignored the bandages for a few minutes while our tongues made sure they still knew how to dance, and then took some extra time to wallow in the reconnection.

  Bina cleared her throat. “Tag. You’re it son. I’m going home.”

  Trace held my lower lip in his teeth for a second to catch his breath, then let go to walk his mother outside. I followed to hug her goodbye, and to say thank you for keeping me company the whole time Trace was cleaning up the mess at his house.

  We watched her drive off in her little import then went inside. Trace relieved Nine Hole along the way.

  Once inside behind a locked door I waved my hand in front of my face. “That man stinks.”

  “Told you.” He smacked my butt. “Ow. Damn prickers. Hey, how are you with a pair of tweezers?”

  “Is that what’s wrong with your hands?” I waved him to the bedroom. He can eat after he cleans up.

  “Yeah. My gloves took a shit. If I’d gone all the way back to my truck I might have lost the snake. Again. For lazy snakes they sure are fast in the wild. It’s supposed to be too cold for them to move like that.” He’s venting.

  I unwrapped his hands and helped him undress as he talked.

  “That was ten thousand dollars worth of anti-venom. Fletcher is running prints on the house now. Jackson will go to prison for this shit if we can track this back to him. Between the grand larceny, and endangerment charges, he’s going to be in prison for a good five to ten years.”

  “Good.” I’m still working. Poor Trace is covered with scratches, a few cuts, some red welts, that look like they’re going to turn into bruises, and on top of all that, his stitches from the bullet wounds are popping. “Hold still.”

  “The only thing that might save his ass is the fact that nobody was hurt.”

  “Except you, and your crew helping today. Is everyone this banged up?”

  “I don’t know. They’re my snakes. My livelihood. I had to get them back. For their safety, and the safety of the people in the neighborhood.”

  “I’m going to have to give you a sponge bath.” I have a metal stool that I use sometimes to shave my legs. Most of the time it sits outside the shower holding towels. I set it in the double-sized tub. “Can you climb over here and sit?”

  “Not sure I can sit.” He put his hand on my shoulder and stepped in carefully after a couple adjustments he found a comfortable sitting position that took the weight off the gunshot wound in his left butt cheek.

  I turned on the water and gathered towels. “I’ll try to be quick.”

  “Take your time. Having your hands on me is the kind of healing I need.”

  “Are you sure you got all the creepy critters?”

  “Oh yeah. I have daily inventories. Sometimes two if I do a show. We got everything but a few spiders. None poisonous, just educational specimens. We caught or sprayed for the rest.”

  “Spray?”

  “Yeah. We dumped about three grand worth of chemicals on the neighborhood. Not to mention what the other guys brought in. Evidently the neighbors called in their own experts. That was fun.”

  “Rivalry?”

  “No, not at all. I’ve worked with these guys plenty of times. That’s the problem. They gave me shit all day for my collection getting loose. It was all in good fun, but I take my job very seriously. This was an ugly blow to my ego.”

  “You were invaded. Your privacy and territory breached. Violated, I believe is the word most people use when they have their cars stolen, or their houses broken into.”

  “That’s a good word. I’d like to move right about now.” He agreed tucking my hair behind my ear as I stood in the bath with the shower wand to wet his hair for shampoo.

  “You’re welcome to stay here all you want.”

  “I’ll help, with bills, whatever you want. I just want to be with you. I don’t expect you to feed me. That was a joke.”

  “I know that.” I kissed his fingers before lifting his chin and turning the water off. “Is it weird that I can’t wait to wash your hair?”

  “You tell me Cookie, you’re the doctor.” He ran his hand over my hip as I walked around behind him.

  “I don’t think I care. Everything has happened so fast I haven’t had a chance to fantasize about washing your hair.”

  “Feel free to take your time now.”

  I drizzled my favorite shampoo over the cascade of hair and began working up a lather. “What made you grow your hair so long?”

  “Too lazy to cut it. I don’t do barbers.”

  “It’s very healthy. You take good care of it.”

  “Stan’s wife gave me a bunch of shampoo, and body wash, last year for Christmas. Between whatever she gave me, and keeping it tied up most of the time, it does alright. The ends get dry about once a year, I cut them off.”


  “Remind me to ask her what she gave you.”

  “I’ll bring over the bottles. Somehow I doubt you’ll be going to my house again anytime soon.”

  “Nope. Not in this lifetime.”

  He chuckled leaning back into me. “Would you be willing to come to one of my shows?”

  “Of course. I’ll be the one in the far back by the exit row with the flame thrower.”

  He turned around and put his hands on my hips, “Maybe you should hurry up. I’m having a serious cookie craving.”

  “We’re supposed to be making plans to leave town.” I reminded him from the crook of his good shoulder later that night in bed.

  “Fletcher wants to talk to Slider first. I’ll know in the morning if we still need to leave town.”

  “Who is Fletcher?”

  “Another half brother from Bull. He’s a cop.”

  “Fletcher’s a cop, and Sawyer is the fireman with pirate tendencies?”

  He chuckled hugging me to him as he kissed the top of my head. “That’s them.”

  “Do you Colson’s rule the whole town?”

  “Nah, we just have our hands in important places.” He walked his fingers around to find my boobs. “Like here.”

  I shifted giving him room to play. “Tell me again how you won my heart in less than a week??”

  “I knocked on your door.”

  “There has to be more.”

  “The rest was your fault.”

  “Oh really? How is that?”

  “You make the best cookies I’ve ever tasted.”

  “So you want to marry me for my cookies?”

  “I want to marry you for your cookies, your smile, your sweet kissable lips, those eyes that steal my heart, and of course your cookies.”

  “You said cookies already.”

  “Different cookies. I love your spirit sweetheart. You have a kind heart that’s reflected in your smile. I see your soul in your big brown eyes. I feel you in my heart.”

  “You do?” I asked softly.

  “Remember when you said you knew I was alive, but couldn’t help worrying?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I feel you the same way. I knew there was someone out there waiting for me to find her. I lost sight of that when I thought I’d be having a family with someone I didn’t love. I knew right away that with one careless fuck, I’d changed the course of my life. I’d resigned myself to never finding you. Then you opened that door, and I knew my path had detoured, but it brought me around to you in the end. I finally found you.”

  I snuggled into him and kissed his chest. “I’m not normally a believer in things like fate and love at first sight. You’ve changed that.”

  He kissed the top of my head. “You’ve changed everything for me my love. I can’t imagine my life without you.”

  “Or the piglet.”

  He shook with laughter, “Now who’s the goofball?”

  10

  “It’s for you Cookie.” Trace slid his phone over to me on the table. We were having a peaceful breakfast.

  “Who is it?” I took his phone trusting it’s someone I want to talk to.

  “Georgia, Turner’s wife. She’s a lawyer. Or was. Or is. I’m not sure. Anyway, she wants to talk to you.”

  I put the phone on Speaker so I can continue to feed Bits while I talk to her. “Georgia?”

  “Hi Celeste. I was wondering if you’d like to meet with me this afternoon. Your personal lawyer is not equipped to handle this. He’s willing to sit council, but you need stronger representation.”

  “I do? Why?”

  “I’m sorry, I jumped ahead. Jackson turned you in to the IRS.”

  “For what??”

  “Tax fraud. He’s been funneling some of your royalty money into off-shore accounts that are in both your names, then withdrawing the money twice a month.”

  “So the IRS thinks I’m not claiming that money on purpose.”

  “Correct. Although, lucky for you I have a friend, Turner, stop it. Sorry Celeste. I have a friend that can help us. Turner, I swear… and people ask me why I don’t work. Back. Off.”

  I giggled as Trace is currently walking his fingers up my thigh. I guess the wandering hands are hereditary.

  “Okay. Sorry. My husband is a pain in the ass. Can you come to the Mesa courthouse around one? I’ve arranged a meeting with Mr. Gold’s lawyer.” Gold is Jackson’s last name.

  “I’ll be there. How will I know you?”

  “Oh, you’ll know me. I’ll be the little blonde standing by the giant blonde warrior who really should be wearing a Viking helmet.”

  I laughed a little too hard. “I’ll see you just outside security.”

  “Sounds good.” She said something else before the line went dead. I’m assuming it was to scold her husband for whatever he’s doing to annoy her.

  “I’ll take you.”

  “Oh no you won’t. You’re going to stay right here and heal. It’s just a meeting. I’ll record it if you want me to, but you need to stay here.”

  “Why?”

  “Because if Jackson is there, you’re going to blow a gasket, and I’ll end up bailing you out of jail. Forget it. Stay here.”

  He groaned and pushed his half-eaten plate of food away.

  “You know I’m right.”

  “You’re denying me an excuse to pummel the guy.”

  “Yes I am. I’d rather have you home with me, than in prison.”

  “I hope Turner pounds the little twerp into the ground.”

  I fed Bits a strawberry before eating one myself. Trace is sweet when he’s mad. I’m not sure he’s really mad at the moment, so much as annoyed. He wants to be there with me, but he also knows I’m right.

  “I don’t like this.”

  “It’s just a meeting. Jackson has dirt on me, I have dirt on him. I need to know what Fletcher found out. Speaking of which, can you have him meet us at the courthouse tomorrow? Maybe he can help Georgia keep me out of Sheriff Joe’s pink tents and tutu’s.”

  A very primal look came into his eyes.

  “Trace?”

  “Why do you need to be at this meeting?”

  “Because it’s my money he stole. My taxes he defrauded. I need to get back what he took, and stop being the victim. If I don’t show up, and blow this off, it’s going to make me look guilty.”

  “But you’re not.”

  “And that’s why I need to be there. I’m not guilty, and I won’t leave my fate to people I don’t know. I want you there, but we both know that’s a bad idea. Jackson isn’t going to try anything in a courthouse full of people. I’ll be fine. Plus, your brother will be there. He’ll protect me.”

  “That’s my job.” My man is pouting.

  I need to make him feel better, to forget for a little while the mess of our lives, took over making me stand. I put my hand on his good arm. “Come with me.”

  He looked up confused, “Where?”

  “The couch. Trust me.” I tugged impatiently. Explaining what I want to do is not nearly as fun as just doing it. I’ve never wanted to do this to a guy. Normally it’s protocol. Something you do as a woman to make the guy happy.

  Not this time. This time I want to play. Distract him, and myself. Enjoy his pleasure. I want to know what he sounds like when he moans in pleasure. I’m wet just thinking about the way he might look when his body succumbs to a man’s pleasure at a woman’s touch.

  I pulled him over to the couch, then stopped him before he sat to untie his sweatpants. “My turn.”

  “Your turn, what?” He finger-combed my hair back enticing me to lift my chin and dare a lust filled look into silver eyes.

  I ran my hands under the now loosened waistband urging the soft cotton down, over this tight butt, to his thighs. Words weren’
t necessary as my left hand cupped that perfect ass, and my right found a tight sac under a hard shaft.

  As my fingers moved up and back down, gently getting to know his length and smoothness of flesh, he tightened his grip on my hips. “Do you know what you do to me Celeste?”

  “I know what I want to do to you.” I squeezed giving him a hint.

  “You don’t need to do that. Just sneeze. Right now. Hell, you could exhale a little louder and I’m done.”

  I smiled and let go to push him gently so he’d sit carefully on his wounded butt. “I don’t have any allergies.”

  “Go easy on me baby. It’s been a while, and…”

  I leaned over to get a pillow and pressed my lips to his for a moment interrupting him. “Hush.”

  “Shit.” He threw his head back in defeat before bringing his chin back to his chest when I started kissing down across his chest to find perfect little man nipples. Just enough there to flick with your tongue.

  I went lower and tried not to gasp when I saw him in his full glory. I’ve seen him turned on through his jeans, and nude except for his boxers in the shower, but never fully naked. I cupped his sac and lifted him to full height using both hands in my exploration of a body that seems unreal in it’s perfection.

  “Celeste.” He touched my chin so I’d look back up to him.

  I ran my tongue across his tip licking the bead of excitement along the way. I tried to look innocent as our eyes met, “Yes?”

  He seemed stunned. The adoration in those eyes is filling my heart. This man loves me. He loves me so much he can barely breathe watching me tease him like this.

  I looked down and kissed his thigh a couple times before making my way back to the best example of manhood I’ve ever seen. Not that I’ve seen many. I’ve probably seen more in movies than I’ve seen in real life. None have compared to this raw maleness in my hand.

  His body tensed as his fingers sunk into the couch cushions. “Cookie. If… you… stop.”

  Normally I’d stop. Use my hand. Be done. Not this time. This time I want something from this man. Something personal. Something he can’t take back.

  “Celeste!!!!” He arched and gave himself over to me. For once I didn’t mind. Everything is different with Trace.