by River Savage
“Thank you.” I turn and look at him when we’re both in the privacy of his truck.
“No problem, sweetheart.” He takes my hands and raises it to his lips, offering me a gentle kiss. A sudden urge to tell him I’m falling for him races through me. I don’t act on it, though. Even I know it’s way too soon to spill those words.
Hetch doesn’t pick up my small panic. Instead, he offers me a wink, starts his truck, and drives past my brother without a backward glance.
What an eventful first date.
“I’m so fucking stupid, Bertie.” A snot-faced Payton sobs in greeting a few hours later when she opens her door to Hetch and me. The dreaded call came through twenty minutes ago when Hetch and I settled into bed for a movie. After taking our dinner to go, Hetch took me back to my place and served up our meals with a glass of wine. We continued our date in the comfort of my apartment. It wasn’t as romantic as Il Centro’s, but I wasn’t complaining, especially when after we had finished eating, Hetch cleared the table and took me right then and there. It was intense, wild, and so fucking perfect I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face.
Well, until Payton’s phone call did.
“No, you’re not.” I step into her embrace, wrapping my arms around her, wishing I could take her pain away.
“He’s having a baby with her.” She wails into my shoulder, her body rocking with sobs. “Itookhimbackandthishappens.” Her words are rushed, strung together in one fast breath, and it takes me a second or two to figure out what she said.
“Hey, now, come on. You’re gonna wake up, Arabella.” I try to soothe her, unsure what to say in a moment like this.
“She’s awake. Jett is in there with her.”
“He’s still here?” The question comes from Hetch first, and it takes both Payton and me by surprise.
“Yeah, he says he’s not leaving.” If Payton is annoyed I brought Hetch along with me, she doesn’t show it. I tried to tell him I would be fine, but he refused to let me drive out here alone. Told me it’s not safe to be out late on my own, and he would drop me off and pick me up whenever I was ready. I didn’t have much time to argue with him, so I gave up a good fight and let him drive me over.
Hetch and I share a look before he steps past us into Payton’s house and follows the hall down to their main living area.
Closing the door behind us, Payton and I quickly follow his trail.
“Hetch, what are you—” I don’t get to finish my question before he’s talking, his voice taking up all presence in the room.
“You need to get your stuff and go now,” he calmly tells my brother.
“What the hell, Pay? You called my sister?” Jett carefully stands from the sofa, replacing his lap with a pillow to cradle a sleeping Arabella’s head.
“What did you expect me to do? You won’t leave.” Payton starts crying again, full-on sobs.
“I’m not gonna tell you again. Leave, or I’ll make you.” Hetch takes a commanding step closer to Jett.
“You’re just gonna throw me out after we just got back together? What about Arabella? Don’t you know how confusing this is for her?”
“You’re having a baby with her, Jett. You told me things were over. This isn’t over.”
“It is, baby. I swear. It’s been over for three months.” Jett steps around Hetch and takes his wife's hand, pleading with her.
“I want you to go.” Payton holds her ground. Jett looks between Hetch, Payton, and me before finally conceding defeat.
“I’ll go, but we aren’t done, Pay. No way is this over.” He picks up his jacket from the arm of the sofa, walks back over and wraps his arms around her. Payton fights him off, and before Jett can step back, Hetch has him by the scruff of the shirt, pulling him back down the hall toward the front door.
“You and I are gonna have to have a word about putting your hands on women.” I hear him say before turning the corner and pushing him out toward the front door.
I don’t have a second to think if I should go out and check on him before Payton is back to sobbing again.
“What am I gonna do, Liberty?” Her eyes are puffy, her nose red and runny, and I know just by looking at her, it’s going to be a long freaking night.
Seventeen
Hetch
“Who are you?” a little voice asks, waking me from my sleep.
“What?” I sit up rather fast, only to find Liberty’s niece standing over me, a confused look on her face.
“Umm.” I clear my throat. “I’m Hetch, Auntie Liberty’s friend.” I look around, gathering my wits. Last night after I escorted Jett out, I came back to find a sobbing Payton and a concerned Liberty. I knew we were in for a long night when Liberty couldn’t seem to keep Payton calm.
I wasn’t expecting to crash on the sofa, but when the night turned into the early morning, and I found the two women crashed out in Payton’s bed, I didn’t want to wake her, nor did I want to leave Liberty alone. Instead, I got comfy on the sofa and gave into sleep within minutes.
“Where’s my daddy?” Her little hands find her hips as she takes in my presence in her living room and the absence of her father.
“Ahhh….” I falter, unsure how to answer her question. The sun has barely risen, and the house is as quiet as when I crashed around two this morning.
“Wanna watch some cartoons?” I ask, instead of giving her an answer. I’ll leave that conversation up to her mother.
“I don’t watch cartoons,” she smarts. Her little attitude reminds me of her auntie’s, and I find myself cracking a smile at the sound of it.
“Well, what do you watch then?” I reach for the remote a little perplexed. What type of kid doesn’t watch cartoons?
“Movies.” She walks over to the cabinet under the TV and opens the doors, revealing a whole collection of Disney DVDs.
“They’re cartoons,” I tell her, watching her pick out some princess crap. It's not at all how I pictured spending my Saturday morning.
“No, they are movies,” she argues right back, just like her auntie would.
Jesus, you can tell they're related.
“Right, if you say so, kid.” I watch as she expertly moves through the steps of setting herself up to watch the DVD.
Once she has sorted herself out, she grabs a small teddy and climbs up next to me.
“Ahh, maybe I should go wake your mom.” I stand, before she gets too comfortable. The kid is pretty chill considering a strange man is in her house.
“No, don’t wake mommy yet. She’s sleeping with Auntie Bertie. If she wakes up, she’ll be sad again.” She pats the sofa next to her, giving me her big doe eyes. The small hint of sadness is almost overwhelming and like a pansy fucker not wanting to upset her at all, I sit back down.
Auntie Bertie? I snicker at hearing the cute nickname. That’s new. I’ll have to remember to ask Liberty about it when she wakes up.
“So what’s this about?” I ask as the opening scene starts rolling, some freaky-looking witch filling the screen with her ugliness.
“It’s about Rapunzel.” Her eyes don’t leave the screen, completely missing my look of confusion.
Rapunzel? Which one is that again?
The bitch who left her shoe or the one who lives with midgets?
Fuck me, there’s singing!
It’s way too fucking early for this shit.
“So let me get this right. He’s a bad guy, but deep down he’s good. And the horse is good, but for some reason, he’s being bad?” I ask Arabella thirty minutes later, trying to keep up.
“Hetch, did you listen to anyfing I told you?” she answers, growing frustrated with me.
“I’m trying to, kid. But dang, I’m confused.” I’m not ashamed to admit it. Hell, any grown man who’s never seen this movie would be as lost as I am.
“Ahh, am I interrupting?” Liberty’s amused voice pulls me from the movie, letting me know she heard my questions.
“Shhh, Aunt Bertie.” Arabella’s eyes don’t l
eave the TV, but her finger moves in dramatic fashion toward her lips.
“Yeah, Auntie Bertie.” I look up, grinning wider when I notice her messed hair and crinkled face.
Fuck, she’s cute.
“Oh, my God, don’t you dare call me that. Ever.” Her eyes grow wide, before a soft pink shade of blush coats her cheeks.
“Why? I think it’s cute,” I tease as I pat the sofa next to me.
“I’m serious, Hetch. If you ever call me that, I will punch you in the junk.” She walks across the room and takes a seat next to me.
“What’s junk?” Arabella queries, her eyes still not moving from the TV.
“Ask your mom,” I offer like I’ve done for every question she’s thrown my way the last thirty minutes.
“I’m asking you,” she sasses.
Seriously, this kid is too quick for me.
“Has anyone told you she’s just like you?” I turn to Liberty and catch her regarding me quietly.
“All the time.” She beams like it’s the best compliment anyone could pay her.
“I don’t need to wonder what you were like as a kid. She’s sitting right next to me.” I hook my hand around her neck and drag her mouth toward mine.
“Trust me, I was worse.” Her lips move against mine. A smile pulls at the corners of her mouth.
“Oddly, I believe that,” I tell her, before running my tongue along around the seam of her lips.
“Thank you for staying last night. I know it’s probably the last thing you wanted to do, but I appreciate it,” she whispers, not quite opening her mouth to let me in.
“Don’t mention it,” I reply, about to deepen the kiss, only to be interrupted with Liberty’s mini me.
“Auntie Bertie, you know, if you kiss with no clothes on, you make babies.”
I choke on my laughter, causing a fit of coughing.
“Are you and Hetch having babies?”
“Breakfast. We should get breakfast started.” Liberty stands in a rush, not answering her niece's question.
“Yeah! Can we have pancakes?” Arabella’s gaze finally moves off the TV to look up at her.
“Of course, wanna help?” She holds out a hand in invitation. Arabella takes it, calling out to me on her way to the kitchen.
“Can you pause it, Hetch? I don’t want to miss anyfing.”
“You got it, kid.” I reach for the remote and hit the pause button. I’m about to follow them into the kitchen, the call of pancakes too good to give up, when I hear the sound of the front door opening.
That fucker came back.
Far too exhausted to have to deal with this asshole, I reluctantly head down the hall ready to rip into him, only to find myself standing in front of two vaguely familiar faces.
“Who are you and what the hell are you doing in my son’s house?”
Shit, Liberty’s parents.
“Aren’t you the police officer who came to our house?” Mrs. Jenson’s head tilts to the side as she takes a second to place me.
“Mr. Jenson, Mrs. Jenson.” I come up short, unsure how this may look to them.
A few weeks back I was knocking on their door asking how their daughter was holding up, and now I’m in their daughter-in-law's house and making myself welcome.
“Don’t you Mr. Jenson me.” His stance tells me he’s ready to blow his top unless he gets to the bottom of this fast. “Why are you here?”
“I came with—”
“Me.” Liberty steps out of the kitchen, walking past me to greet her parents.
“Hey, Daddy.” She reaches for her father first, letting him wrap her up in his large arms. For an old guy, he’s still in good shape. Not as tall or as built as I am, but considering he’s the dad of the woman I’m seeing, it wouldn’t matter in the end. I know he would kick my ass.
“What’s going on here, Liberty?” he asks, pulling back and allowing his wife to greet their daughter.
“Well, it’s kind of a long story,” Liberty answers when her mom releases her. Liberty’s mom is nothing like her. Small and dainty, she has this air of innocence around her. Almost like the way my mom was before my father died.
“Well, I suggest you start talking, darling, before your father loses it.” Liberty’s mother gently suggests, before the high-pitch squeal of Arabella fills the house.
“Nana!” She runs straight past Liberty and me, right into her grandmother’s arms.
“Hello, darling. How are you?” she asks Arabella, picking her up in her arms. She looks almost too small to be picking up the rowdy four-year-old, but she doesn’t falter, lifting her up and planting kisses all over her face.
“Hetch and Auntie Bertie sleeped over. And Aunt Bertie is making us her faborite pancakes,” she answers, causing more confusion to fill the air.
“Will someone tell me what the hell is going on here?” Mr. Jenson bellows, his temper no longer in check.
“Hey, guys.” Payton steps out of the hall, her steely composure complete bullshit.
“What’s going on, darling?” Liberty’s mom doesn’t buy it either, picking up on the change in her daughter-in-law.
“There’s something we need to talk about.” Her voice starts to wobble, and I catch Liberty’s worried eyes.
Fuck, what an awkward conversation this is gonna be.
“How about I take the kid back to the living room. We’re halfway through Tangled, and oddly enough, I need to know how it’s going to end.” I manage to get an out.
“Yay!” Arabella shouts, wiggling her way down out of her nana’s arms and making a run for it toward the living area.
“You guys talk.” I offer Liberty a smile. She mouths “Thank you,” and before I know it, half an hour has passed and I’m shouting at the TV, devastated she cut the bitch’s hair off.
Fuck me, who makes these movies?
“Okay, well, thank you for calling me. No, no, I understand. Next time for sure. Okay. Thanks. Bye.” Liberty hangs up the call and lets out a frustrated sigh.
“What’s up?” I ask from her sofa later that night. After being subjected to a Disney movie this morning, I told Liberty I needed some hardcore action movie to wipe my mind clear of all those catchy tunes.
“Ugghh, I’m having a hard time finding a new place for our car wash next week.” She plops her ass down next to me, tucking her feet up under her.
“What sort of place you need?” I pause the movie, pulling her into my lap and against my chest before wrapping my arms around her waist.
“Anywhere at this stage. All I need is access to water and space for the cars. It’s not like we normally get a huge turnout, but it’s still enough for us to be able to fund some things at Haven.”
“I might have a place,” I offer, wondering if it will work.
“Yeah?” She sits up, her eyes growing wide with possible excitement.
“Why not down at the station? It’s not far off the main road. We get heavy traffic, and I’ll make sure the boys bring their trucks in for a clean.”
“Oh, my God, are you serious?”
“Yeah, if you think it’s a good spot.”
“It’s a perfect spot.” She captures her lip between her teeth, working through the idea. “Can you clear it with whoever you need to clear it within the next few days?”
“It’s a done deal. I’ll sort it out,” I tell her, knowing the Captain will be onboard.
“Seriously, Hetch,”—she throws her arms around my neck, squishing her tits close to my face—“you’re a lifesaver. The kids will love it. But are you sure?” She pulls back, taking her tits with her.
“Yeah, sweetheart. I’m positive.” I tug her back, hoping to get reacquainted with those sexy tits of hers.
“Have I told you you’re amazing?” she whispers, before pressing her soft lips to mine. I let her lead, enjoying seeing her become more confident.
“You did this morning after I slept on the sofa, survived a Disney movie, and then had breakfast with your pissed-off father, but you c
an still show me.” I rest back, allowing her room to straddle my lap completely.
“You gonna let me be in charge?” She pushes my shirt up over my head then gets to work on my belt.
“Depends,” I answer, lifting my hips so she can strip me free of my pants.
“Depends on what?” she asks, taking a step back.
“If you can handle it.” I fist my cock, stroking myself to relieve some pressure.
“Oh, I’m more than capable.” She reaches behind her. The brief, sharp hiss of the zipper opening is the sweetest sound I’ve heard all day, but it’s what she reveals underneath the dress that’s the sweetest sight I’ve seen ever.
“Jesus, sweetheart.” I stroke my cock a little harder, taking in her lace boy shorts and bare breasts.
It’s simple. But fuck me, it’s perfection.
She smirks down at me, before walking over to the end table and reaching into the drawer.
“What are you doing?” My leisurely assault of my cock slows when she pulls out a pair of department-issued handcuffs.
“Showing you how capable I can be.” She turns, stalking her way back to me.
“I don’t fucking think so, sweetheart.” I reach forward, wrap my fingers around her tiny wrist, and pull hard. She comes willingly, falling sideways back into my lap.
“What’s the matter, honey? You don’t like to be restrained?” It’s the first time she’s called me honey, and I don’t know why I like it so much, but I fucking do.
I like it.
A lot.
“No. I don’t like to be restrained. That’s your job.” I tug on the handcuffs as she straddles me once again, releasing them from her grasp before she knows what’s happening.
“No fair.” She pouts, rolling her hips against my stomach.
“Life isn’t fair, but it sure as hell is fun sometimes,” I taunt, capturing a wrist in my grasp while snapping one cuff closed. She fights me for a second, not sure what I’m up to, but when I grind my hips up to meet her pussy, she loses all train of thought, and her arms relax.
