My head snapped up, and I looked around, startled.
Finally, I found the source of the mischief.
It was the expression on the attendant’s face that had my giggle escaping.
That was so like my father, controlling things all the way from heaven.
I stood up, and walked straight to the attendant who was frantically trying to change the song.
It was divine intervention, though. In my opinion, it wouldn’t be changing any time soon.
Placing my hand on the man’s hand that was furiously clicking the huge X at the top of the screen, I stilled his fingers and said, “It’s okay. I like this song better.”
He looked at me, searching my eyes, then reluctantly withdrew his hand.
Taking over the mouse, I turned down the volume instead of turning the song off completely, then made my way to the podium.
A new strength taking over my body.
As I passed my father’s casket, I ran my fingers over the length of it, smiling sadly.
At his picture, I pressed a kiss to my fingers, and then laid it upon my father’s cheek before climbing the stairs.
We were having the funeral at the local stadium.
There was literally nowhere big enough to hold the people that were expected to show.
And show they’d done.
Every single bleacher, fixed seat, and hill top was taken over.
Hell, there were even some on the crosswalk that ran over the street.
I took in the people.
Familiar faces, and not.
I skipped over my mother.
She was in the very back, standing next to her sister.
She was wearing all black, as if she hadn’t just served my father with divorce papers only three days before he’d died.
He’d chosen me when she’d made him choose, and she’d followed through with her promise of divorce. She’d gone so far as to have it all done online, having the papers sent to my father while he’d been at work.
And I hadn’t spoken to her since
Skipping over my mother’s scowling form, I finally focused on Foster.
Uncle Darren and Aunt Missy on the other side of him. A space in between them where I’d been sitting only moments before.
“I wasn’t going to get up here,” I told the crowd, eyes roving over the many sad faces. “In fact, up until that song came on, I was fairly sure I was going to die of heartache.”
I wasn’t going to lie. It still hurt. Hurt so hard it was hard to breathe…but I knew I’d survive it.
If only for him, I’d be strong and say what was in my heart to make him proud of me from where he was watching over me.
I’d kick ass at life, and make him proud.
“A few days ago, I was interviewed by the local paper,” I swallowed. “I really, really didn’t want to talk to the reporter, but I felt that my dad’s story needed to be remembered. That he deserved to be remembered.”
I looked down at the podium and told them what I’d refused to tell that reporter.
“She asked me what my favorite memory was of my father, and I couldn’t pick one,” I swallowed. “I was lying, though. I had one. Everyone has one. But one in particular, changed the course of my life. And it only happened a few weeks ago. The last time I was able to spend with him before he was shot and killed in that shooting.”
***
Foster
I held Blake’s gaze as she said what she had to say next. And I knew before the words even left her mouth that they were going to gut me.
They were going to rip out my heart and stomp on it.
And I was right.
It was a good kind of hurt, though.
“I was out back, drinking a beer with my daddy as he told me that my mother had decided to leave him,” she said softly.
The microphone picked up her pain, though, and radiated it through the entire stadium for all to hear.
“I asked him what the point of love was if divorce was possible after being with someone for thirty some odd years,” she said, wiping a lone tear. “Then his reply to me was to pull my head out of my ass.”
She burst out laughing through her tears, and I wanted nothing more than to go up there and pull her into my arms.
But I left her there to tell the story that I knew she needed to get off her chest.
“After a moment of shocked silence, I berated my father for his bad language, and he gave it to me straight.” She smiled, the corner of her lip kicking up higher than the opposite. “He said, ‘Blake Boston Rhodes. I didn’t raise no dumbass. You’ve got a man that’s one bad ass son of a bitch. Even tougher than I am. You wanna know why? Because I saw the way he looked at you.’”
She’d deepened her voice, even going as far as to put a little twang into her connotations.
“After a moment of shocked silence on my part, I asked him what he meant. And his reply was, ‘Honey, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist. Your mother and me, we had a good time. We lived, we loved, but what we had wasn’t pure like what you and that boy have. What you have will withstand the challenge of time. He’d move fucking mountains for you. All you have to do is let him in. Tell him what you want. And when he comes and asks for your hand in marriage, which I damn well know he will, I’ll tell him no. Then he’ll come and take you from me anyway. That…that right there is what tells me he wants you. He doesn’t care that the woman he loves is the daughter of Shank Rhodes. He cares that you’re happy, and you’re you. That’s what he cares about. So when he asks you to be his, you’ll be the smart girl I know you are, and you’ll say fuckin’ yes.’”
I coughed, laughing with the rest of the people in the stadium as she recounted what her father had said.
I remembered, though, what he’d said to me only one day later when I’d asked him.
“Yes. A thousand times yes. Because I know you’ll treat her like she deserves. But you tell her I said no, because she needs to know I’m there to protect her if she needs it. And know I’ll always be watching you, even if I’m dead and gone. I’ll find a way to kick your ass from the other side of the grave, boy. Fuck up, and you’ll see.”
“Then he’d given me a hug, and brought me another beer where we proceeded to get drunk and celebrate him being a ‘free man’ as he liked to call it,” she laughed. “I’ve never been drunk in my life, but that night, for him, I did it.”
Then, as if in a freakin’ movie, every single member of the SWAT team’s pager started going off.
Blake’s watery eyes focused on my face, and she smiled the first sincere smile I’d seen from her in days.
“And there, boys, is what my daddy lived for. The thrill of the chase, and the excitement of catching the bad guy. Don’t waste time. Get out of here and be safe,” she ordered quietly.
As if in a daze, I stood and, in front of thousands of people, I blew her a kiss. One in which she caught and placed upon her heart.
Love you, I mouthed.
She winked and mouthed back, I love you, too.
***
“Have you told her yet?” Miller asked.
I glanced up from my perch on the porch steps of the Chief’s home and shook my head. “Nothing to tell.”
I took a sip of my beer, which turned into more of a gulp rather than a sip when I thought about how unfair I was being.
Blake deserved to hear it all, yet I couldn’t find the courage to tell her.
“There’s something to tell. She needs to hear it. Shit like this,” Miller shook his head. “It has a way of coming out. Every single time. Someone’s going to slip, and she’s going to find out what part you played in it. She’s going to know that you were the one that…” I held up my hand to stop Miller’s diatribe.
“I know,” I sighed, rubbing my eyes the best I could with a bottle of beer in my hand. “I fucking know.”
“He doesn’t have to tell me anything. I already know it all,” a soft, tear filled voice called from the opposite side of the rail
ing.
Behind where we both had our backs.
She’d come around the back of the house, most likely to find a little alone time, yet she’d walked into the middle of my pity party.
Miller slapped me on the back as he passed, heading back inside to the reception that was being held in Lou’s honor.
I turned around, placing both hands on the porch railing, beer bottle hanging from one finger I had looped around the lip.
“What’d he tell you?” I asked softly.
She looked stunning in black.
I just wished I hadn’t had to see her in this dress so early in our relationship. She said she only wore it for funerals and that broke my heart.
Her blonde hair was half up, half down, cascading down her back in a long sheet.
Her eyes were rimmed with coal black, and her mascara, as well as eye shadow, was heavier than I’d ever seen it.
She looked just as good now as she had when we’d left the house earlier that morning.
“Everything,” she whispered, looking out over the hundreds of cars that lined her uncle’s street. “He told me everything…and I don’t blame you. Not at all.”
I closed my eyes, relieved.
So very thankful that she understood when she could’ve just as easily gone the other way with her opinions.
“That’s good,” I whispered.
She turned to me then, her heart in her eyes, and she smiled. “I love you, Foster.”
She walked up to the railing and leaned up, offering her lips to me.
“Now give me a kiss before I go deal with my mother.”
I obeyed, leaning down to give her a kiss.
Her lips tasted salty, as if all the salt from her tears had gathered there for me to taste.
“I love you, too.”
Chapter 24
Sometimes the best part of my job is that the chair spins.
-E-card
Blake
“Who was on the phone?” I asked, plopping down on the couch next to him.
I’d just finished washing my hands from my latest attempt to throw a pot. It was the fourth time I’d screwed one up this week.
My mind was on different things, and I caught myself staring into space for long periods of time, thinking about all that had happened over the last week.
“Um…nobody. The Chief called a meeting. Wanted me to come in in an hour,” he hedged, stripping his shirt off. “I’m gonna go take a quick shower.”
I followed behind him, knowing he was hiding something the moment he wouldn’t look me in the eye.
“What does he want to talk about?” I asked, following him into the bathroom.
He was stripping off his pants as I walked in, and my eyes were immediately caught by the newest tattoo on his side.
It was a lone flower.
A red rose, to be exact.
It was taking up his whole left side. He’d gotten it the second night after my father died, saying that the flower reminded him of me. Reminded him that he had something beautiful in his life, and he needed to keep his head on straight, even when all he wanted was to find those responsible for hurting my father.
I’d thought the sentiment was quite beautiful, and I liked looking at the tattoo; especially when I knew he’d gotten it because of me.
“Some SWAT stuff,” he answered before he started removing his prosthesis.
I’d seen him do it so many times now that it was just routine, even though the entire process still enraptured me.
It simply amazed the hell out of me that he was able to adapt as he had. He acted like there wasn’t a single thing wrong with his life, even though he was living with a handicap that would’ve debilitated some men.
Moving up until I was in between his splayed legs, I wrapped my arms around his head and pulled him to me.
He laid his head on my breasts and breathed me in, the tension in his shoulders loosened the moment I put my hands on him.
“You don’t have to tell me, Foster. But don’t lie, okay?” I asked softly, tilting his head up so I could see his eyes.
He winked. “Yes, ma’am.”
He leaned forward and placed a soft, open mouthed kiss on my collarbone, sending shivers up my spine and straight to my nipples.
“I still think you need time,” he rasped against the skin of my neck.
That was something he’d been saying to me for the past few days when I tried to get him to make love to me. He’d go just far enough that I was satisfied, but not a millimeter further.
Today, though, wouldn’t end like that. He needed the release just as much as I did.
I grabbed a hold of his hair, pulling it back until I could see his eyes clearly.
“What I need,” I said, running my lips down his neck to his Adam’s apple. “Is to be distracted. Something you do very, very well.”
He growled, and I felt the vibration that started on my lips all the way down to my clit.
“You don’t know what you’re asking,” he tried, gripping my hips so hard that it was at the verge of pain.
I laughed quietly before grazing my teeth along the cord of his neck.
“I know exactly what I’m asking.”
With that he snatched me forward and kissed the hell out of me.
His mouth dueled with mine while his fingers found their way to the loose waistband of my pants.
I’d yet to put on jeans…or anything that resembled presentable to wear into public, since my dad had died.
I’d felt less than sexy.
However, right now, I felt like a fucking queen.
Foster devoured my mouth, then moved to allow his beard to run along the soft skin of my neck.
Tickling and turning me on all at the same time.
I grabbed a hold of his hair when he started to lower me to the freezing cold tile lining the bathroom floor.
“Eeek!” I squealed, thrusting my bare ass up when my butt met cool tiles.
His eyes smiled as he tugged my pants the rest of the way off my legs, and then settled his naked body in between my splayed thighs.
His mouth found my neck again, traveling down the length of my t-shirt until he found the bare skin of my belly, smoothing his mouth over it languidly.
“I want to plant my baby in here,” he whispered gruffly. “I want to see you growing fat with my kid so bad my heart hurts.”
I laughed as he skimmed his mouth up the length of my belly until he met the underside of my left breast.
“I’ll have to see what I can do about that,” I breathed, gasping in a fresh gulp of air when his tongue found my nipple.
He didn’t suck it, though.
He flicked it. Bit it. Pulled it.
Did everything but suck it. Mostly because he knew what playing with my nipples did to me, and if he started to suck, then I’d lose my ability to focus.
Something he liked to only do right when I was at the brink of orgasm.
“Please,” I lifted my hips up, urging him to give me what I so desperately wanted.
He grinned, lifting up onto his knees to push his boxer briefs down his thighs.
My mouth watered at seeing his cock.
As it always did.
He really did have a perfect one.
A thick, ruddy head followed by a luscious shaft.
I wanted to worship it in my dreams it was that good.
I’d never been one to think penises were beautiful, but Foster’s was just that.
I started to lean forward to capture the beauty in my mouth, but he stayed my movement with a palm to my belly.
“Stay,” he ordered. “I want to look at you.”
I didn’t know what he saw.
I knew what I saw, though.
My t-shirt had been pushed over my breasts, just barely revealing my rosy nipples to his gaze. My bare ass was pressed against the still cold tile, I’m sure completely clashing with the dark brown mosaics.
Then there was my hair.
Up in
a messy bun that hadn’t been brushed in a day or two, my hair was a disaster.
Yet, Foster never once complained. He thought I was freakin’ beautiful. Something he made a point to mention at least once a day. Sometimes even more.
And that, more than anything else, was what turned me on the most.
Seeing the lust in his eyes was a complete turn on, and then some.
My hand snaked from my belly down to my clit as I started to circle it with a lone finger, hoping to urge him into action with the movement.
He didn’t move, though. Only watched me move faster and faster.
It was only when my hand moved to my nipple, and my eyes started to close in the beginnings of an orgasm that he finally thrust home.
It was such a surprise that I came, hard and fast.
The orgasm that had been upon me suddenly pushed me over the cliff so hard that I screamed until I became breathless.
He growled, dealing me punishing thrusts as he rode me through my orgasm.
It wasn’t long until he was coming, too. Spilling himself inside of me in long, rough bursts.
“Uhhh,” he groaned planting himself deep and freezing.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his ass before pulling him towards me.
He dropped down to his forearms just above me and smiled at my sleepy, sated eyes.
“Nap time?” He grinned.
I nodded.
“Yeah, just have to find the energy to get there.”
In the end, we showered together, and then he took me to bed.
I’d thought we’d both fallen asleep, yet when I woke up an hour later, his side of the bed was empty, and had been for some time.
***
“You’ll let me be there,” I snarled at my uncle.
I really wasn’t budging on this.
After Foster had left the house so abruptly an hour before, I’d known that something was going on.
My uncle sighed and opened the door wider, allowing me into the interrogation room.
“Officer, my client has done nothing wrong. She’s in a delicate condition, and would like to go home to bed, where she’s supposed to be until she’s further along in her pregnancy,” the slimy lawyer said as I walked in the door.
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