Trixsters Anonymous

by Ahren Sanders

  “Because I may have said something about always wanting to fuck a redhead.” He raises his eyebrows and grazes a finger up my inner thigh, leaving a trail of heat. I gasp when his finger inches along the edge of my lace panties. He flashes me a sexy grin before removing his hand, shutting me in.

  A bolt of desire surges through my body, and I cross my legs to try and stop the tingling sensations. The combination of his grin, the swipe of his finger, and the promise in his eyes has me ready to attack him when he slides in the truck.

  The cocky look on his face gives me an idea. I hoist up my dress and slowly slide my underwear off and drop them in his lap.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  I shrug and bat my eyes a few times innocently.

  “Emi—” My name dies on his lips when he sees me run my fingers up the inside on my thigh and under my dress. He snatches my hand and traps it on his thigh. “Don’t,” he growls.

  “You started it.”

  He places my hand over his pants, where his erection is outlined in his jeans. “I start it, I finish it.”

  I tease him again, using my other hand and trailing my fingertips along my inner thigh.

  “You touch yourself, I can’t be responsible for what happens when we get home.”

  I don’t stop, purposely spreading my legs enough for him to see what I’m doing. The instant I’m close enough to touch my clit, he’s across the cab of the truck and has both my hands in one of his. There’s fire in his eyes as he brings his lips to mine.

  “I warned you.” The harsh intensity in his voice has my stomach flipping. Sparks fly between us as the air in the truck heats.

  “I don’t take orders very well.”

  His breathing picks up as the grip on my hands tightens. “You think you can behave in the ten minutes it takes to get home?”

  “We’re half an hour from your place.”

  “Not tonight we’re not.”

  A full body tremor washes through me and I have no choice but nod. “You get us home in ten minutes, I promise to behave.”

  He kisses me briefly and moves back to his seat.

  “You really should thank me,” I point out. “I’ve given you easy access.”

  “Jesus,” he mutters and takes off.

  “Come here.” I’m a limp noodle in Walker’s arms, too sleepy to fight him. He props me on his chest and raises my arms, sliding the soft material down and over my head. I sigh happily at the smell of his day-old cologne and scent of his fabric detergent.

  “Shit, it’s a lot easier to undress you,” he complains.

  “Why are you dressin…” The words fade off as I start to doze again.

  I barely feel him laying me back and tucking the covers around my waist before I’m in dreamland again. There’s no telling why he’s up so early, but I can’t find the energy to care. Neither of us has to work today, so my plan is to sleep until my body recovers from what Walker refers to as “fucking a redhead’.

  Maybe I shouldn’t have poked the bear, but it was too fun to pass up.

  I fall back into a deep sleep, only stirring once when I hear Marcus’s voice in the living room.

  No telling how much time passes, until I feel a damp, cold spot on my cheek, followed by several sniffing sounds. I swat at the air and come into contact with something hairy. My body goes stiff as my eyes flutter open. I find myself staring into the most crystal blue eyes I’ve even seen.

  I squeal, yanking my head back as the eyes lunge at me.

  “Come here, boy. Let’s let her wake up.” Walker speaks gently. As soon as he lifts the animal, it gives a small whine, and I realize it’s a puppy.

  “Oh my God!” I scramble to a sitting position and wipe at my face to make sure I’m not seeing things. “Is that a-a-a…” the words escape me.

  “Great Dane puppy,” Walker finishes for me.

  “What’s he doing here?”

  “He’s ours.”

  “He’s ours?” As I repeat it, the dog squirms furiously, trying to escape Walker’s hold.

  “Yeah, baby.”

  I bounce in the bed, now fully awake, and clap a few times, which sends the puppy wiggling more. “Let me hold her.”

  He lets the dog go, and it immediately pounces on me, licking everywhere. I hug it close, squealing with delight and surprise. “Hey there, sweetie,” I coo over and over.

  “It’s a he, not a she,” Walker corrects me.

  I nod to let him know I heard him, continuing to love on the wriggling animal. “You got us a dog?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Why ruin the surprise?”

  “I love your surprises!”

  My arms cradle the puppy until it’s in a lying position, and I can get a good look. He’s grey like Micky, but his eyes are so much bluer. His tongue licks my arm as I rub his belly softly. “He’s so beautiful.”

  “I hate to break up this moment, but we need to move him. Marcus and I took him out for a while, letting him roam the yard. But the excitement is bound to make him pee. Let’s get him off the bed.”

  “Okay.” I throw my legs over the side and stand with him in my arms.

  “Emi, let him down.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  “He needs to sniff around the house.”

  “Oh.” I realize Walker’s right, so I begrudgingly put his feet on the floor and watch him scamper around in circles.

  “I’ll make your coffee and meet you in the kitchen.” Walker comes to my side and kisses my temple. “We need to name him this morning. It’s important for training.”

  “I can’t believe you got me a puppy.”

  He lifts my chin, so we’re eye to eye, and brushes my hair back from my face. “I realized, a few weeks ago, you’ve only ever asked me for one thing. That night at my parents’, you said you wanted a dog like Micky.”

  “But we agreed we had time. He needs so much.”

  “This is our time.”

  The words aren’t even out of his mouth and the tears well in my eyes. “This is our time?” My voice cracks.

  “This is our time,” he repeats softer. “I hope these are tears of happiness.”

  I squeeze my eyes as tight as possible, trying to gain control of my feelings, but it doesn’t work. The dam bursts. Tears flow down my cheeks, and when I open my eyes, he’s a blurry image. Sobs escape my throat and I throw myself at him.

  Weeks of emotions come bubbling to the surface, overwhelming me as I cry for everything that has happened in the last month to bring us to this point. He’s alive, he’s healed, we’re getting married, and he bought me a puppy.

  How much can a girl take before she breaks down with so much love and happiness that it shatters her heart into a million pieces?

  I wail into his chest, clutching hard, telling him how much I love him. My ramblings promise him anything he ever wants, including a house full of sons, but it mostly sounds like a slobbering, blubbering mess. His body starts to vibrate as he picks me up and carries me to the bathroom, setting me on the vanity. I clutch to his shirt, still declaring my undying love and devotion, until he pries me away and runs a damp cloth over my face.

  “I love you, too, but you don’t need to promise everything, because I already have you.” He somehow understood what I said.

  “I’m sorry I’m crying.” I hiccup, sucking oxygen into my lungs.

  “Are you happy?”

  “Happier than I ever knew was possible. Are you happy?”

  “I’m going to be.” His answer takes me by surprise, and my heart falls.

  “You’re going to be? Does that mean you’re not right now?”

  “We have one problem.”

  “A problem? With us?”

  “I want you to move in. Make this place your home. Do you think you can do that?”

  Make this place my home? Is he crazy? I’ve been picturing myself living in this house since the first night he brought me her
e. I’ve even drawn out a diagram of how we can rearrange his deer in the living room so I can have shelves put in.

  “I can do that,” I reply, almost breathlessly. This time, I’m able to keep the tears at bay.

  “Today.”

  “Today?”

  “Yes.”

  “We can start moving my stuff over, but it’s going to take weeks for me to get boxes, find a storage unit for my stuff, contact a realtor…”

  “It’s all covered. Marcus and Maren are getting boxes now and will meet us at your place in a few hours. We’re going to move your bedroom suit into my extra room, and set up your office wherever you want. I’ll throw shit out if I need to. As for the realtor, it won’t be necessary for a while. I’ve found you a renter, and he needs a furnished place for a bit. Marcus can have someone in his firm draw up a rental agreement.”

  “Who?”

  “Agent Kelly is transferring to Charleston.

  “He is?”

  “Yeah, he’s gonna head up a small task force here.”

  I narrow my eyes, knowing all this didn’t appear out of thin air overnight. “You’ve been busy. How long have you been planning all this?”

  “You moving in was a no-brainer. It was going to happen sooner rather than later, but when Kelly mentioned his promotion, that set the ball in motion.”

  I chew on my bottom lip and think about Bryant living in my place. There is no way a man like him will be comfortable with all the girlyness. “Maybe we can make a few changes, like switch out our couches. I’m kinda attached to my living room.”

  “No problem. I’ll have Marcus bring his truck so we can load it up. He’ll help me make the switch.”

  “You don’t mind?”

  His face goes soft, and his dimple pops with a wide grin. “No, baby, I don’t mind. I love your stuff and am okay with whatever it takes to make you more comfortable here.”

  “I’m comfortable here, but are you going to be okay with me adding color to your house? The whole masculine rustic vibe is going to take a hit.”

  “That whole vibe took a hit the first time you walked through the door, and as of a few minutes ago, it’s no longer my house. It’s our house.”

  My heart melts in a puddle of Walker induced goo, and I throw myself at him, squealing in delight. There’s a rustling and high-pitched bark as the puppy finds us in the bathroom and starts running circles around Walker’s legs.

  “You okay for me to take him back out?”

  “Yes, I’m good.” I raise my face to his and kiss him briefly. “I’ll meet y’all in the kitchen.”

  He scoops up the dog and leaves me alone. I hop off the counter and flinch at my reflection. My cheeks are splotchy, my eyes rimmed red, and my hair is a mess.

  “This is why you shouldn’t cry, Emi. You look like a maniac,” I say to myself and start on the damage control.

  As soon as I’m somewhat presentable, I join Walker in the kitchen and notice the dog bowls on the floor and a large crate in the corner. The puppy is passed out inside, laying on a blanket.

  “How did you find him?” I grab my coffee mug and curl into Walker’s side.

  “Mom and Dad’s breeder.”

  “I’ve always wanted a dog, but it never happened. He’s the best present ever.”

  That earns me a squeeze and a kiss on the forehead. “We need to name him.”

  “How did you decide on the name Micky?”

  “Dad, Marcus, and I were shooting the shit around their pool one afternoon. We were drinking Michelob Ultra, so we started calling him Michelob.”

  “You named him after a beer?” I look up at him in disbelief.

  “Yep, it didn’t make Mom too happy. That’s why she started calling him Micky.”

  “Somehow, I don’t think Lemon Drop or Chardonnay seem appropriate.”

  He chuckles, shaking his head. “I agree on that. He’s going to be a big dog, Emi, I’ve already spoken to a trainer and a fence company. We’re going to have to fence in the yard for him to roam, but we’ll also take him out to the cabin as much as possible.”

  At the mention of the cabin, I place my mug on the counter and twist in Walker’s arms so I can face him. “I wanted to talk to you about the cabin. I think I’d like to get married out there. Would that be okay with you? I want a simple ceremony and a huge party. It’s so beautiful, and I think we could truly make it magical.”

  One side of his mouth tips up in a small grin. “I think it will be perfect. Anything you want.”

  “Anything?”

  “Anything.”

  “Does that also mean we can discuss rearranging your trophies in the living room?”

  “Yeah.”

  “No argument?”

  “None, we can take them to the cabin if it makes you more comfortable.”

  “No! They’re a part of you. I was thinking about adding some shelves to your living room…” I go on to tell him about my idea to move things around and don’t miss the glint in his eyes. Only when I mention his TV does he turn serious.

  “Don’t mess with a man’s TV, Emi.”

  I start to giggle at the fright on his face. “Okay.” I throw a hand up in defeat. “No moving the TV.”

  At the sound of my giggle, the dog leaps up and looks around eagerly. He tromps over to us, and I pick him up, petting under his neck. His blue eyes shine so bright and so full of wonder between Walker and me.

  “What if we name him Lucky?”

  “Lucky?”

  “Yeah, Lucky.”

  “Why Lucky?”

  “Because that’s how I feel right now. I’m the luckiest woman in the world.”

  I glance up in time to catch Walker’s breath hitch as his eyes transform into a liquid green. My heart skips a beat when he pulls us both into his chest and places his lips against my temple.

  “Lucky it is.”

  Chapter 29

  Emi

  6 months later

  This is heaven… or, at least, it would be if I could sneak Maren’s phone and make one quick call to Walker.

  “I know you’re eyeing my phone. Don’t even think about it,” Maren scolds me without even looking my way.

  “There’s no way you can see me.”

  “I sense the laser beams cutting through the air.”

  “I don’t understand why I can’t even call him.”

  “It’s your bachelorette weekend, Emi. You’re supposed to party with your girlfriends and celebrate your upcoming nuptials. Can’t you enjoy this beautiful day on the beach with us? Drink your daiquiri, lay back, and work on your tan, and in a few hours, we’ll have our last big blow-out before I deliver you back to him tomorrow.”

  “Mare, I don’t understand why you won’t let me call him. What’s going on?”

  She twists her head to face me, and I can read the answer in her expression.

  “He doesn’t know where we are, does he?”

  She purses her lips and shakes her head.

  “I thought you said he was in on this!”

  “Well, he is now! He’s figured out we’re not in Myrtle Beach.”

  My stomach drops at this little tidbit of news. I was so excited about our change in plans, I believed her when she said he knew about the surprise. But now it all makes sense.

  “He’s not going to be happy about this. When he finds out you kidnapped me to Miami for the weekend, he’s going to lose his shit.”

  “I’ll deal with the fall-out.” She finally looks at me with a conspiring smile. “He’ll have to forgive me eventually. Besides, I’ve responded to the last sixty text messages he’s sent telling him you’re fine.”

  “He’s texting you?”

  “Texting, calling, threatening… all of it.”

  “He can trace your phone.”

  “Not if I disabled the function.”

  Damn her!

  Nina and Rachel start to giggle when I lunge for Maren’s beach bag, and she snatches it away.

  I plop bac
k on my lounger and try to think of a way to get to a hold of Walker without them finding out. I have to give it to my three friends; this was a well-executed abduction. When they picked me up at Walker’s yesterday, they didn’t let on that our pre-planned trip to Myrtle Beach was all a ruse. Maren even left details of our fake reservations and an outline of our plans for Walker.

  Of course, I didn’t know our change of destination until we passed the sign for the airport. They glazed over the details, telling me it was a huge surprise everyone was in on.

  That was a lie.

  “Is this why you insisted on locking my phone and iPad in the safe?”

  When I went looking for my phone last night, they convinced me I was too drunk to call and put it in the safe. Which was true since they’d plied me with alcohol the minute our driver picked us up from the airport. I passed out, highly inebriated, sometime after midnight.

  “Yes, I wanted to try to hold you off as long as possible. This is supposed to be about us, and when Walker finds you, there’s no telling what will happen. I bet he’ll call in a favor and have some sort of off-duty police officer at our side for the rest of the weekend.”

  She explains she overheard Marcus making plans for Walker’s bachelor party, and they were going to crash our trip to Myrtle Beach. Walker wasn’t into the Bachelor/Bachelorette party traditions and swore he’d cancel them both if we didn’t make arrangements in the same place.

  I kinda already knew this information, seeing as Walker had told me the same thing. But I kept this to myself.

  So, instead of being in Myrtle Beach, we are in South Beach, currently enjoying a gorgeous day with beachside service and an unbelievable ocean view.

  I close my eyes and breathe deeply, trying to let the smell of salty ocean air and the sound of the waves crashing relax me.

  It doesn’t work. The guilt is overwhelming.

  “You know he’s going to track your credit cards, Maren. It’s better to let me call him.”

  “I took care of that. Told you, even Marcus doesn’t know where we are.”

  “This is going to be bad, bad, bad,” I grumble.

  “You’re really killing my buzz.” Nina slurps the rest of her Pina Colada. “Can you at least pretend to have a good time? I’ve never been to Miami before, and I’d like to enjoy it.”