by Shandi Boyes
“I thought it was just a handful of Landon’s friends?” I mumble under my breath when I spot a minimum of two dozen people milling in the front garden.
“This is a handful of Landon’s friends,” Savannah replies with a giggle.
She waits for me to park my truck in an empty spot half a block away before twisting her body to face me. The smug grin I’ve been wearing the past twenty minutes turns into a genuine smile when she leans across my torso to push down the lock on my door.
“We’re not leaving this truck until you spill the beans, Ry. What was with the extra crinkle in your brow when you came to pick me up?”
I’m not going to lie; Savannah’s bossy boots persona is as attractive to me as her sex pot one.
When she sighs, annoyed by my delay in replying, I shrug, acting like it’s no big deal. “It’s nothing major.”
“Ryan ...” She doesn’t need to say more. The arch of her brow is questioning enough.
“My mom’s coming back tomorrow,” I disclose, my voice as uneasy as my facial expression.
“Oh.”
Savannah’s lips twitch as she struggles to find something more appropriate to say. “We knew this would inevitably happen, didn’t we?”
“Yeah. I guess I was still hopeful Aunt Kaci would convince her to stay in Kentucky.”
I don’t know how she does it, but Savannah somehow ends up squished between me and my steering wheel before my brain even registers she's moving. After cradling my ticking jaw in her hands, she rests her forehead against mine.
“Your aunt isn’t a miracle worker. You’ve tried to reason with your mom for years, Ryan. If she can’t hear the words of her own flesh and blood, she won’t hear anyone’s.”
“I don’t want to go back to the life I had before she left,” I admit, expressing my true feelings for the first time in weeks. “I like how things are now. I don’t want anything to change.”
Savannah awards me a reassuring smile. “Who said her return means anything is changing?”
“I have to protect her. It’s my job,” I barely whisper.
Savannah shakes her head. “No, it’s not. You’re her son, Ryan, not her protector.”
Realizing her words are breaking through some of my resolve, Savannah continues chipping away at it. “You’ve done everything you can to help her. You can’t do any more. It’s time to put yourself first. I love your mom, Ryan, but I hate the way she constantly picks Ted over you and Damon. That's not what a mother should do. She's supposed to raise you, not drag you down.”
“She did the best she could in the situation.”
Savannah sighs, disturbed I just used an excuse similar to the ones my mom regularly uses for my dad. For years, I’ve strived not to become my father, but during that process I somehow became my mother.
“I’m her enabler, but instead of feeding her drugs, I accepted her excuses.”
Savannah gives me a few moments to work through the turmoil before speaking. “I’m not saying you should walk away, Ryan. No one benefits when you turn a blind eye, but I do think you should follow Regina’s suggestions.”
“The last time I spoke out...” I take a moment to control my nerves before continuing, “She spent a week in the hospital, Savannah. An entire week.”
“I know,” Savannah replies, sorrow echoing in her tone. “But you don’t have to mention her name to begin the steps needed to break the cycle. Speaking out publicly about domestic violence has been proven to lower incidents. Look at how your father responded to Regina’s investigation. Just the prospect of being caught reduced the number of incidents in your household dramatically. Get people on your side, Ry. Tell your neighbors he isn’t yelling at the TV. Ask them to call the police if they hear anything suspicious. Encouraging a change in their mindset may incite a change in your mother’s mindset as well. The more people she has surrounding her, the safer she will be.”
I run the back of my hand down the groove imbedded deep in her cheek. This is one of the many things I love about Savannah: her optimism. She doesn’t roll over and play dead when times get tough. She sticks with it and continues twisting the puzzle piece until she finds the right fit. It was Savannah’s determination to seek justice that saw Axel and two of his friends netted by the FBI. Savannah suggested we wear a wire during drop-off. She even knew staying in my truck would cause Axel’s green head to rear up. She's as smart as she is beautiful.
“I’ll talk to my neighbors tomorrow. See if I can get a few more eyes on my place while I’m away at training.”
Savannah smiles a grin that makes me forget the world. It also reminds me that she's straddling my lap.
“Uh-uh,” Savannah purrs, her words not matching the excitement blazing in her eyes. “Our little detour down a dark and scary alley already set us back twenty minutes. We don’t have another twenty minutes to spare.”
When she attempts to scoot off my lap, I yank her back into her rightful spot. A soft moan ripples through her lips when she feels the effect her body has on me. I am primed and ready to go.
“What about ten? Can you spare ten measly minutes?” My last three words are accompanied by feather-like kisses to her jaw, neck, and mouth.
“You only need ten minutes?”
My chest puffs high, swelling with smugness from the confusion in her tone. Other than when her lips are wrapped around my dick, her pleasure is always at the forefront of my mind. I don’t care if it takes two minutes or two hours, until she's pleased to the point of exhaustion, I don’t let up.
“I don’t need ten minutes.” Savannah’s honey-colored hair falls from her face when I lay her across the bench seat of my truck. “But you sure look like you could use ten minutes.”
Her moan of anticipation switches to exhilaration when the back of my fingers graze her heated core mere seconds before I slip her damp panties to the side. I would love to spread her out and devour every inch of her right now, but with the occasional rowdy teen staggering past my truck every few minutes, I harness my desires—barely.
“Can you spare ten minutes, Savannah?” I ask again, inching my finger inside her sweet-scented pussy.
Savannah doesn’t answer me... unless you perceive a moan as a yes?
39
Ryan
Savannah’s rowdy laughter roars down the line, kickstarting both my heart and my libido.
“It wasn’t funny. You should have seen her mustache. I thought she had a Cocker Spaniel stuck on her top lip. I tugged on it a few times to save the wee lass, but it wouldn’t come off,” I continue explaining, my voice a cross between my British and Irish trainers. “When me and three other recruits tried to hold her down, she took off via the scrub at the back of the academy. I don’t think we’ll ever see the Cocker Spaniel again.”
Savannah’s giggles even louder, loving my eccentric run-down of my day’s events. It’s been two months since I last saw her. Two long and torturous months. Although we talk a minimum twice a day, it’s not the same as having her in my arms. I’d give anything to see her at my graduation tomorrow. Anything at all.
“What about you? What did you get up to today?” I ask, choosing to take the high road instead of the low one.
Our separation has been just as tedious for Savannah as it has been for me, and deep down inside, I know she did everything in her power to come watch me graduate tomorrow, but sometimes the moon and stars just don’t align like we’d like.
“Same old, same old,” Savannah answers, her voice breathless from laughter.
Her husky giggles tighten my crotch when I ask, “Did Simon forget his pants again?”
“No. Thank god! I still don’t think he believes me, though. He's adamant his boxer shorts are swimming trunks.”
Now it’s my turn to laugh. Simon is the only man I trust to continue the swimming lessons I started with Savannah before she left for college four months ago. He's sixty-five and has a stomach that could have kept the Titanic afloat. He was the perfect candidate.
Savannah’s laughter simmers when I disclose, “I saw your dad last weekend. He’s keeping Willis on his toes.”
“I am so glad Willis stayed on as his nurse. He craves familiarity.” She inhales and exhales three times before asking, “Did he mention me?”
“Only a hundred times. He won’t forget you, Savannah. You’re impossible to forget.”
I hear her cheeks rising over the phone. “You have to say that. I’ve had your dick in my mouth.”
I groan before adjusting my crotch.
Savannah’s next question makes quick work of my stiffy. “How’s your mom? Things still quiet?”
Even though she can’t see me, I nod. “She’s good. She’s got an entire army looking after her now.”
What Savannah said months ago was true. Speaking out about domestic violence doesn’t necessarily mean ousting those involved. When I expressed concerns about my father’s temper to our neighbors, they vented similar worries. Knowing they had my approval to seek assistance if things got out of hand eased their concerns dramatically, which in turn alleviated mine. Although I’ll never be off-duty when it comes to protecting my mom, it's nice to know my shoulders aren’t the only ones carrying the burden.
When Savannah is unable to hold back a yawn, I shift my eyes to the alarm clock glowing in the hotel room I am sharing with Brax. Even though Brax isn’t a fan of me joining the boys in blue, he's here, supporting me. When I spoke to him and Chris last week, they said they would both make the trip to Orlando to watch me graduate. Brax arrived late this afternoon. I haven’t heard from Chris.
Noticing it's nearly 1 AM, I mutter, “It’s late, I better let you go. You’ve got classes tomorrow.”
“No!” Savannah squeals down the line, her voice so loud she startles Brax. “Not yet. I’m not even tired.”
“Shh,” I request with a chuckle. “You’ll wake up Brax. He’s snoring like a baby.”
Savannah’s apology is barely heard over Brax’s grumbled, “I’m not sleeping; I’m just bored waiting for the entertainment to start.”
When I arch a brow, confused, Brax blubbers, “Are you fucking serious? You’ve been together over six months and you haven’t had phone sex yet? What the hell is wrong with you two?”
Hearing how long I’ve been with Savannah makes my chest swell with pride. For six months, she’s been my girl. Six long, glorious months. I had dreamed things could be this good, but I never thought they would turn out even better than I envisioned. She’s firm when she needs to be and sweet when she’s not. She complements my good side and improves my bad. She's everything I could have hoped for, and then some.
Wanting to wipe the arrogance from Brax’s face, I mutter, “I didn’t say we haven’t tried it. I’m just wondering why you want to watch me stroke my dick?”
Brax gags at the same time Savannah hollers.
“I don’t wanna watch you touch your cock.” His deep timbre is scarcely heard over his numerous dry heaves. “I wanna hear Savannah whisper naughty things into my ear.”
Even my cell falling from my ear so I can whack Brax over the head with my pillow doesn’t stop me from hearing Savannah’s hearty laugh. Her giggles encourage my assault.
“You ready?” Brax asks, straightening the plain black tie hanging down my first official police uniform.
I drag my eyes from the crowd, which is surging in size for every minute that passes, to him. “Yeah. I think. Where’s Chris?”
Brax isn’t shocked by my choppy response. The nerves fluttering in my stomach have reduced me to one or two-word sentences most of the day.
“He’ll be here. He’s just parking his car,” Brax assures.
When I gesture to the massive half-empty parking lot, Brax stammers out, “He’s... getting coffee?”
He slaps my back three times, ensuring he and Chris will forever have my back without words. I know every unspoken promise is true. They’ve had my back in more ways than I can count the past six months. Chris drove Savannah to her school when a mix-up with paperwork meant my request for three days of leave approved for the wrong month. Brax drops in to visit my mom once or twice a week at a bare minimum just to make sure she's okay, and he even lined up an after school gig for Damon at the tattoo shop he’s been working at the past nine months. They have my back—and hopefully with my first placement being assigned at Ravenshoe PD, I’ll soon have theirs as well.
“I’m gonna go grab a seat before all the good ones fill up. Keep an eye out for me. I’ll be the one cheering you from the front row.”
After racking his knuckles against my chest, he disappears out of the mesh tent that the other twelve recruits and I are getting ready in.
The first person I spot when I march toward the area assigned for me and my fellow recruits is Regina. She's standing up on stage, her smile as proud as every other mother in the small crowd. The second person I see is Brax. He's sitting front and center as promised. The two chairs beside him are noticeably vacant since every other chair in the makeshift outdoor arena has been filled. The third person I spot nearly has me choking back tears. I never expected to see her here—not in a million years. It's my mom.
Noticing the direction of my gaze, Brax stands from his chair and gestures for my mom to join him at the front. Although her face shows her embarrassment at arriving late, it also shows her gratitude for Brax’s offer.
Once Brax has her settled next to him, I drop my eyes to my feet to calm my nerves. The last thing I want to do is vomit on my shoes like I did my first day of school. That's how I met Brax and Chris. Chris helped clean my shoes while Brax threatened to beat up anyone who dared mention my embarrassing nervous trait. We’ve been brothers ever since.
Since I’m graduating top of my class—or as my fellow recruits like to call it “the golden boy of the force”—I’m heading up onto the stage to collect my graduation certificate before half of the butterflies in my stomach have settled.
“Ryan!” squeals a voice in the distance, the shouting accompanied by wolf-whistles and cat-calls.
I shake my head to clear the congestion in my ears, certain I’m hearing things. I heard that voice last night, but it was transported over a cell phone since its owner is hundreds of miles away.
I’m halfway across the stage when my name is called again. This time it's accompanied by the overzealous clapping of an extremely excited person.
My head snaps to the side so fast, my bones creak under pressure. My heart launches into a mad beat when I spot the smiling face of Savannah standing at the end of the aisle my mom walked only minutes ago. Her hands are braced against her chest, and the pride on her face is easily distinguishable even from a distance.
The crowd laughs when the lieutenant in charge of my division joins me in the middle of the stage instead of waiting for me to come to him. I’m so stunned at seeing Savannah, I can’t force my legs to move.
She's here. The girl of my dreams is here. I’d be a fool not to take advantage of the situation.
After accepting the certificate Lieutenant Smith is holding out for me and posing for a quick photo with the department-assigned photographer, I lock my eyes with Regina’s.
“Go on. You’ve earned it,” she permits, knowing she's breaking protocol, but confident enough in her position not to care.
I plant a sloppy kiss on Regina’s cheek then dart off the stage, ensuring she can’t retaliate to my gall. When Savannah spots me sprinting down the aisle, she also pushes off her feet. The brutal collision of our bodies is barely heard over the hollering surrounding us. From the crowd’s reaction, anyone would swear we are newlyweds dashing down the aisle after saying “I do.”
After kissing Savannah long enough I secure the oxygen I’ve been deprived of the past two months, I pull back to glance at her tear-stained face. She's just as beautiful if not more ravishing than I remember.
“What are you doing here?” I ask at the same time she says, “I’m so sorry we’re late. We got a flat, and the traffi
c in Orlando is ten times worse than I remember.”
Recognizing that she said “we,” I peer past her shoulder. Chris is standing at the exact spot Savannah pushed off from. His arms are crossed in front of his broad chest, and a grin on his face reveals he's only a little bit peeved by the delay. He likes drama—and this is about as dramatic as you can get.
Chris accepts my thanks with a dip of my chin before joining Brax and my mom at the front of the ceremony. I will join them... soon. I need a few more minutes surveying every inch of Savannah’s face first.
“How long are you here?” I ask Savannah as we walk toward Chris’s old beaten-up sedan parked next to Brax’s motorbike.
With Savannah’s arrival the highlight of my morning, the remainder of the festivities were as boring as they could be. I posed for the standard class photo and even managed to deliver my speech without vomiting on my shoes, but nothing could compare to the jubilation I felt when I saw her standing at the end on the aisle. There was only one thing that came close to topping it: it was when my mom told me she was proud of me. That was an unexpected, though highly craved praise.
“Just tonight,” Savannah answers with a pout before running her hand over the studded leather on Brax’s bike seat. “I can’t believe you own a Harley, Brax. Have you showed Justine yet?”
Brax’s head pops up from the saddlebags of his bike at the same time my eyes rocket to him.
“Justine?” I ask when he fails to answer Savannah’s question.
“They have a date scheduled for when she comes back from school,” Savannah informs me, her voice full of teasing.
“It’s not a date,” Brax denies, shaking his head. “We’re just going to the movies.”
“That’s a date, dipshit,” Chris pipes in, noogying Brax’s head to mess up his hair that’s grown a couple of inches longer the past six months.
Chris darts to the other side of his car when Brax stands to his full height. “It’s not a date if she buys her own ticket.”
