Hart & Stocker

by Max Ellendale

  "Dax!" I sputtered, splashing about until I was finally able to tread water. My boots complicated the effort. "You douchebag!"

  Her face turned bright red with her hysterics, and she collapsed backward while holding her stomach. I splashed her a bunch of times before grabbing on to the edge of the dock, attempting to pull myself up.

  "Help me out of here before I kill you!" I swatted her boot though it only made her laugh more.

  She flopped on her side, her eyes twinkling while she watched me. Pure enjoyment brought light to her, and it sent sparks of heat through my core despite the cold water. I gulped, gripping on to the dock while kicking my feet in attempt to leverage my exit. It took me a few tries, then I managed to toss my knee on the edge, and roll onto my rear. I panted, shooting her a glare while she continued to chuckle.

  "Not funny, asshole." I laughed when I said it.

  "Actually, it was pretty hilarious," she said while sitting up, her hat forgotten on the deck. She bolted forward suddenly, her hand on my back again. I shrieked, and grabbed on to her arm.

  "Stop that!" My balance wobbled on the edge and she caught me.

  Her fingers encircled my wrist, and she pulled me further onto the planks. My teeth chattered and I watched her while she held on to me. A smile remained on her lips, though it faded and her brow furrowed.

  "You're cold."

  "Of course I am. It's fifty degrees and the water is like thirty," I said, crossing my arms over my middle when she let go of me. "And my feet are soaking in leather cups of ice water."

  She chuckled and shoved my shoulder. "Let's go back to the house before I'm convicted of negligent homicide."

  "Very funny." I stood with her and she scooped up her hat.

  The entire walk back to the house only brought more shivers and by the time we made it to her front porch, I could hardly talk. I slipped out of my boots, leaving them turned upside down beside the rocking chair.

  "I'll get you some towels," she said, ushering me inside after I ditched my socks as well. She hurried off to the bathroom while I stood just inside the front door, bouncing up and down as goosebumps coated my flesh.

  Despite the consequence of Dax's impulsivity, I couldn't deny my amusement.

  She returned a moment later and tossed a fluffy white towel over my shoulders. The minute her eyes wandered over me, she paused. "Take off your jeans at least. I'm regretting my frivolity."

  "Ya think?" I shuddered when my cold hands brushed my middle while I unbuttoned my pants and slipped out of them.

  "Careful." She grabbed my shoulder when I stumbled. "On second thought, take off everything and I'll throw them in the dryer."

  "I could kill you a little for this," I said, taking the second towel she handed me and wrapping it around my waist.

  "I'm sorry," she said, laughing a bit as she helped me unbutton my shirt. As if she'd forgotten her own rules about touch, she wrestled it from my shoulders and it joined my jeans on the floor. Her eyes fell to my chest where my nipples poked the nearly sheer fabric of my bra. That brought pause to her movements, but not to the way she looked at me. Her eyes wandered to the top of the towel around my waist then back up to meet my gaze.

  I reached behind my back to unhook my bra, pulling it away from my flesh almost painfully. When I made to cover myself with the towel, she grabbed my hands, forcing it away.

  We stood there, with me half naked, my hair dripping down my torso, not saying a word. My stomach churned when my nipples hardened against the cold air. Dax urged the towel from my hand then, with the utmost care, draped it around my shoulders before pulling it closed around me. The gentility of her movements set off a beacon of warmth in my chest that slowly grew toward the farther recesses of my body.

  She held my gaze while pulling the towel from my hips, and I slipped out of my panties. As before, she tucked the towel around me. This time, it wasn't me who gulped as I witnessed the harsh swallow in her throat.

  "Go warm up on the sofa. I'll be right back," she said, her voice soft.

  "Okay…"

  Dax gathered my wet clothes, then headed off toward the kitchen.

  I fixed one towel around my breasts so that it covered most of me, and used the other to dry off my hair.

  Dax's house remained spotless yet cozy as always. I settled myself into the fluffy pillows on the sofa, and tucked my legs up with me. When my hair stopped dripping, I wrapped the towel around my shoulders, though the shivering remained.

  When she returned, Dax tossed a hot blanket over me that smelled freshly of fabric softener.

  "I warmed it up for a minute," she said.

  I pulled the blanket tighter around me and the anxiety of being nearly naked in front of her quelled. "Thank you. If I die of pneumonia, it's your fault."

  She laughed softly, then sat next to me, now sans hat. "It was still funny."

  "Eight seconds of funny, an hour of freezing to death." I made to swat her, but stopped myself before making contact. She didn't recoil despite my nearness.

  "Can I fix you coffee at least to make up for it?"

  "Yes. Fix me coffee, brat." I waved her off and off she went again, her state of laughter ever-present.

  It took me a bit to stop shivering and when Dax returned a few minutes later, she handed me a hot mug. "Thanks."

  "Welcome." Again, she dropped down to sit beside me. "Feel better?"

  "Yes. Besides the fact I'm naked in your living room, I'm better." I sipped the coffee, holding the cup between my palms.

  "No complaints on that one." Her eyes flickered over me, despite the fact that I was covered up.

  My brow furrowed as I attempted to decode what she said. "Does that mean that you want me around?"

  "It means I think you look good naked," she said, her mouth twitching as if threatening a smirk.

  My face burned immediately with the blush that I couldn't keep at bay. "Um...thanks?"

  "Welcome." She leaned her elbow on the back of the sofa and pulled her legs up beside her. The posture lengthened the stretch of her torso and, in return, I allowed myself to admire her figure the way I had at our first meeting. Athletic and toned in a way that made her core seem firm, though I imagined the feel of her would be much different.

  "Did you really mean that you don't want a friend?" I asked while fingering the mouth of the mug in my hands.

  "A little."

  "Why not?"

  "Because I'm messy. And you deserve someone who isn't." She ran her fingers through her hair and I lifted a brow at her.

  "Deserve someone?"

  That seemed to catch her off guard. "Deserve people in your life who aren't messy."

  "Friendship isn't something that's clean-cut, Dax. And how do you know I'm not just as messy?"

  "I can tell."

  "How?"

  "Because I can."

  "You're probably wrong."

  She shrugged. "We'll see."

  Quiet wandered between us again, though I'd grown used to nipping it away rather quickly.

  "I met Esteban today while he exercised Carol," I told her. "She's looking healthy."

  "He loves that horse."

  "So do you. Speaking of, where's your fruit basket of goats? They didn't chase me down when I got here."

  "At Esteban's. They're going to live somewhere else."

  "What? Why?" My stomach lurched with the declaration.

  "Because they deserve it and to be safe. Carol is Esteban's so she stays."

  "And the rude cat?"

  "She's around here somewhere." She shrugged, though she shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

  "But you love your animals, Dax. Why send them away?"

  "It's better for them." The length of her sentences began to shrink and I knew that we were on a path to losing her, so I went in for the kill.

  "What happened to you that you're afraid for your pets, Dax? All of this was set off by the loss of that puppy," I said, my words leaving me in soft tones.

  I expecte
d her to pull away, to rage at me, or to tell me to fuck off. Instead, her eyes shimmered and her gaze fell to the flesh of my exposed knee.

  "My legs are stubbly. Don't look there." I tugged the blanket over me to hide them.

  She let out a small laugh, then looked back at me. "You really want to know?"

  "I wouldn't have asked if I didn't."

  She drew a slow in-breath. "No one's ever asked before."

  "Asked about your pets?"

  "Asked what happened to me."

  "Well, maybe they weren't paying attention."

  "It's a long story."

  "I've got no clothes and my shoes are soggy. I've got time," I said, gesturing around us rather dramatically.

  She didn't laugh that time and I knew that meant her gears must've been turning. "Everyone thinks law enforcement officers are invulnerable to sociopaths. Like protecting people somehow gives you a sixth sense to pinpoint every evil terrorist that was ever created."

  "People treat you that way?"

  "All of us are treated that way. In bad relationships, when shit happens, everyone is always like, 'How did you not see it?' It's the same with how they treat law enforcement."

  "So all of this goes back to a relationship?" I attempted to connect the dots in order to better understand her.

  "Yeah."

  "How long ago?"

  "A few years. I wasn't a marshal yet. Beat cop first."

  "What happened to you?"

  She shook her head, and I watched as her entire body tensed at even the thought of going there. Her fingers balled to fists, and she let out a slow breath.

  "Hey, what's your favorite breakfast food?" I called out, aiming to distract her from whatever was happening inside her.

  "What?"

  "Favorite breakfast. Go."

  "Uh…" She gulped, though her breathing evened out after a moment. "Pancakes. With real maple syrup, not sugar."

  "Favorite color."

  "Purple."

  "Least favorite food."

  "Um...sushi." She made a face. "Why are you asking me this?"

  "So you don't have a panic attack." I waved my hands in her face when her gaze started to wander. "Favorite ice cream flavor."

  "Black cherry."

  "Pussy or penis?"

  She nearly choked at that one, and her attention shot right back to me when she smirked. "I have to choose?"

  "Yes." I grinned, pointing at her. "You only get one. Choose. Pussy or penis?"

  "Pussy," she said, laughing now. "Always pussy."

  "Damn right." I chuckled while applauding her answer.

  "Have you ever been with a guy?" she asked me, seeming to relax into the conversation at that point.

  "In high school, yeah. A girl broke my heart, so I tried being normal for a few months." I made a face and pretended to gag. "Normal didn't work out."

  "Normal never does."

  "Sure doesn't."

  A lull found its way to our conversation, though this time it felt more pensive than fading. I wasn't the one that broke it either.

  "In my late twenties, I was in a relationship with a man for a year or two. It was a bad one. And it took me awhile to realize it," she divulged. "It still bothers me."

  "Well, your late twenties weren't all that long ago considering we're only mid-thirties."

  "Yeah…"

  "I'm sorry that someone hurt you, Dax. You also deserve better."

  "I don't, but thank you for saying it," she said, her energy fading slowly.

  "Look at me, please," I urged and she did. "You deserve better. Hear what I'm telling you?"

  She nodded, and the eyes of the woman who cried in the car after the loss of a small life, stared back at me.

  "You deserve better," I repeated, filling my tone with the sincerity I felt in my heart.

  Dax ran her fingers through her hair and sat forward, clearing her throat. "Want to watch a movie while we wait for your clothes?"

  "I can be persuaded into it."

  "You're naked and I'll arrest you for public nudity if you leave?" She tapped her lip and I laughed.

  "That'll do." I pointed to the television above the mantle of the fireplace. "Movie it is."

  Chapter Five

  "I'm starving," I declared as I snatched a second slice of pizza from the box on the coffee table of my place.

  Sage shook her head at me while nibbling on the crust of her first slice. "You'd polish off a whole pie if you were here alone."

  "This is true." I sat cross-legged while setting my plate in my lap. "Thanks for bringing it."

  "You're welcome. Though it wasn't just an innocent delivery, Will. I wanted to talk to you about something."

  "Okay…" I lifted my glass of soda from the table and downed a sip. "Is everything okay with Jake?"

  "Yeah, definitely. Everything is fine. I wanted to talk about you."

  "Me? Why?"

  "Well…" She set her empty plate down on the table then pulled a pillow into her lap. "I want to talk to you about Dax."

  "What about?" I slowed my chewing and lowered the slice back to the plate.

  "You've been spending more time with her lately."

  "So?"

  "Will." Sage leaned her elbows on her knees, then held her hands to me. "You like Dax."

  "We're friends, Sage." Reluctantly, I placed my hands on top of hers.

  "Regardless, there's something you should know about her—"

  "No, I don't want you to tell me anything." I pulled my hands away while shaking my head. "What I need to know about Dax should come from her. Not you."

  "Calm down, Will. I'm just looking out for you. I don't want your heart broken, okay?"

  "Sage, I'm a grown up. I'm in charge of my own heart. And even though I act younger, or look younger, or whatever excuse people use to treat me as a know-nothing, I understand the risks. Okay? I know something is off with Dax. I'm aware."

  "And yet, you still hang out with her?"

  "Why wouldn't I hang out with her, Sage?" I tossed my dish on the table, having lost my appetite over the intervention. "Because she's different? Because she's bi? Because I'm gay, in case anyone forgot. I'm different, Sage." My throat tightened as my emotions unhinged from the depths I'd kept them in for some time. Raw and eager to unleash on my sister. "I'm sorry if I don't go to church every Sunday with you all. And if my choices aren't regular or normal. My life isn't normal." Tears streamed my cheeks as I sent a fist into the back of the sofa. "I'm not normal."

  "Willa." Sage didn't shy away from me. She moved closer, her hands on my knees. "I'm not here to attack your integrity or tell you who you are. I'm here to tell you that I'm worried that you're new friend might break your heart."

  I sobbed, wiping my face on my shoulder while I calmed myself down. "My heart, Sage, is already broken." I pulled away from her, rising from my seat. "And that is what no one understands."

  "Willa, I—"

  I held my hand up to her, and headed off to my room.

  Sage didn't follow me into my room that night, and she left me alone afterward as well. In the clinic, I focused on my job and caring for the pets that needed my help. Families left with hope, and pets left feeling better for the most part that week. In the spring, we always had an influx of puppies, and all the staff enjoyed those days.

  For a few days, I ignored Sage's calls. Her inquisition made me feel like a teenager again, invalidated by my family and friends as someone following a whim during a phase. It hurt, as it always did, and I wondered if it would always.

  After work on Thursday, I retired to my apartment, the way I had been every night lately, and pondered the bottle of whiskey on the counter. I hadn't opened Dax's gift for taking her disorderly drunk ass home. It seemed like a fair way to end the night.

  I took a shower, changed into pajamas, and retired to my sofa all before seven in the evening. Before I was able to get through the credits of The Greatest Showman, a knock sounded on my door. I sighed, knowing it would b
e Sage who would end the standoff between the two of us. I paused the movie, and made for the door in annoyed strides.

  Dax stood on the other side of the door when I pulled it open. Her presence surprised me, especially because she appeared ready to stomp some criminals in her black jeans, white button-down blouse, and badge hanging around her neck. She had the sleeves of her shirt cuffed to her elbows and just the sight of her made me swallow down the attraction that I couldn't deny any longer. Friends or not, she was incredibly beautiful, especially when she looked healthy and less afraid. With her hair down, her gun at her hip, and a smirk on her mouth, she gave me a once over.

  "Nice jammies." She folded her arms over her chest, and her eyes lingered on the center of my faded, floppy T-shirt.

  I cleared my throat, stumbling over a few syllables before forming an actual word. "Thanks."

  "You gonna invite me in?" she asked, gesturing toward the living room.

  "Uh...yeah, sure." I watched as she sauntered inside, her hands slipping into her back pockets while she looked around the place. She said nothing for a bit, until I leaned myself against the island counter in the kitchen. "Can I get you something?"

  "How about that J.D.'s you got sitting over there?" She pointed to the bottle of whiskey that sat unopened near my elbow.

  "I was about to dive into it myself."

  "Good." She clapped her hands once. "Let's get to it."

  "Did you just come from work?" I snagged two glasses from the dish drain, then grabbed the bottle as I led her to the living room.

  "A quick warrant. Worked about an hour." She shrugged and we sat together on the sofa. "Nothing major," she said, then accepted the glass I offered her after a mild pour. "Thanks."

  "You know, I don't even have your phone number," I told her after pouring out my own then setting the bottle on the table.

  "Numbers are useless anyway." She let out a content sound at the first sip of alcohol. "That's better."

  "It is." My gulp mirrored hers, except I cringed at the strong taste.

  "Been awhile?"

  "I'm usually a beer girl."

  "Beer and barbeque, yeah?"

  "Mmm. I could go for ribs."

  She laughed, shaking her head at me. "Not surprised." Her gaze fell on mine while she took another sip, a single brow cocked. "You look upset."