Sutton Lee

by Christa Wick

  But she is serene—serene in such a way that I doubt my memory of what she looked like that day in Seattle as she stood in the lobby with Emerson, her bags at her side so she could leave me once again.

  That was a trance. This is something else.

  "Hey, is there a tea party I wasn't invited to?"

  The question isn't mine. It belongs to Jake as he comes out of Adler's office and spots me in the doorway to the playroom.

  "I need a pot of coffee, not a cup of tea," I laugh as my gaze flicks to Madigan. "I just need to talk to Agent Armstrong for a few minutes before I crash for a couple hours…or days."

  Jake claps me on the back then squeezes past me to reclaim his daughter. "I think Uncle Sutty isn't the only person who needs a nap."

  "Stay with me, daddy?"

  "Until you fall asleep," he agrees. "Gam-Gam is planning a big barbecue to thank everyone who searched. So I need to help her get it set up."

  I stand to the side so Jake can pass with Leah cradled against his chest. She reaches out, her small hand brushing my arm.

  "Love you, Sutty."

  It takes me a second to reply because the sweet gesture chokes me up.

  "Love you, too, baby girl."

  I wait until father and daughter turn the corner before I look at Madigan. She hasn't moved from the bean bag. I enter the room and plop a second bag next to her then collapse onto it.

  "You said we could talk."

  She turns to face me. Her lips roll and then she bites at the bottom one to stop the contortions. I take her hand and hold it tightly between both of mine.

  "You have to understand," she starts, her voice kept low. "There is no fairytale ending. It's not like we kiss three times and I'm cured. There is no cure, Sutton."

  I bring her hand to my mouth and press my lips against the flesh.

  "No cure," I agree, eyelids growing heavy. "But there can be progress. And you sitting with Leah sure looked like progress."

  Her head bobs and she inches closer.

  "And I want to make as much progress as I can. The moment I found out Caiden was missing, I finally understood how much he means to me."

  I give her a smile and a nod but don't interrupt the flow of her words. I could have told Maddy how much the boy meant to her after she showed up on my front porch wearing a summery dress but with her demeanor approaching panic.

  "And then," she continues, "you go out on a helicopter that's not supposed to be flying, in weather no one should be rappelling in…with cougars in the vicinity!"

  For a second, she turns green, but then her cheeks flush a soft pink.

  "I understand no one is perfect. I see it every day in my job. But I want to be good enough for you, for kids."

  She looks away, mouth flattening, throat tightening.

  "But I will always need reminders and coaching. I need called out when I retreat. I need someone who understands that, if I seem remote at times, I am not angry or hurt or depressed. I just…am. I am. That's all."

  Having Maddy share these feelings is too much to bear without holding her. I roll, capture her soft curves in an embrace and squeeze. I brush the hair obscuring her face, press my lips to hers.

  Maddy yields to the kiss. Endorphins rush through my body, dragging me toward sleep.

  "You need to be in bed," she teases. "Not snogging in a child's playroom with an FBI agent."

  "You're right. Well…sorta."

  I stand up, haul her to her feet and lead her to my childhood bedroom.

  "Mama and Daddy wouldn't let us have girls in the room with the door closed," I warn as I leave the door open.

  Maddy replies with a snort and an eye roll. "I definitely remember different rules with Ashley and Quinn."

  "Yeah." I swipe at my grin but don't move to shut the door.

  Collapsing on the bed, I pat the space next to me. Madigan stretches out. I roll toward the wall, dragging her hand and half her arm with me. She presses her face against my shoulder. She takes a deep breath, her breasts pushing at my back, the air filtering past the fresh t-shirt I changed into.

  Before I know it, I am asleep. Deeply so. I don't feel Maddy getting up and leaving. But, when I wake, she is gone.

  A folded sheet of lilac paper rests against her pillow. I open the note. The handwriting is Maddy's, but the glitter and some of the language is Leah's.

  Helping Gam-Gam with the groceries for tonight's barbecue. Join us when you wake up, Sutty!

  Madigan returns before I leave the room. She finds me am sitting up and stretching. I don't quite get the smile from her that I expect.

  Taking a seat on the bed, she rests her head on my shoulder and spills the bad news.

  "Teddy is flying us to the Billings airport. We have a flight booked for California. Our target is on the move."

  As I kiss the crown of her head, I offer her knee a light squeeze.

  "Okay."

  A note of disappointment colors my tone. She meets my gaze, cups my face and kisses me. Pulling back, she graces me with a tentative smile.

  "When I return from California, I'm putting in for a permanent assignment to the Billings office." She hesitates, lips sliding around like she has something else to say but shouldn't.

  It takes a few more seconds before she tells me.

  "This target we're chasing…he's a big catch. Emerson will get his Resident Agent in Charge. Probably in Minneapolis."

  She shrugs, puts her head on my shoulder again. "I don't care if it's Honolulu. I don't want to leave. I don't want to leave Caiden or Delia…"

  She looks up and holds my gaze, irrevocably capturing my heart at the same time.

  "I don't want to leave you."

  I am struck dumb by the admission. My throat tries to swallow my tongue. With the words trapped inside me, I kiss Madigan until I can manage to squeak out a few syllables.

  "When do you have to go?"

  There's a throat clearing. It's neither mine nor hers. Emerson steps into view. Seeing me and Maddy and the close proximity of our bodies, he rolls his eyes and answers my question.

  "Right now. I'm dropping a kiss on Leah's cheek then Mama's."

  His attention jumps from me to Madigan.

  "Teddy should be touching down at the stables in about twenty minutes."

  Not waiting for her reply, Emerson disappears from my doorway. Holding Maddy's hand, I walk with her to fetch her luggage. Then we head to the kitchen so she can say goodbye to Delia and Caiden.

  Ten minutes later, I stand in the dust and pray that the Maddy I'm waving goodbye to is the same Maddy who returns to me.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Throwing the rental car in park, I glance at my phone sitting in the cupholder. I've been running dark for days as Emerson and I chased Sprankle all the way down Interstate 5 to the Mexican border. We might have lost him, too, if he hadn't craved one last sourdough burger and a side of onion rings from the Jack in the Box located some eighteen-hundred feet from the border crossing.

  Criminals, no matter how successful, really are the biggest idiots on the planet.

  Grinning at the memory of Sprankle's takedown, I grab the phone and call Delia.

  She picks up within the first few rings.

  "Tell me you busted that nasty thug and are coming home."

  I'm delighted to tell her that is exactly why I called.

  "Great! How long do I have to wait to hug you?"

  Studying the building in front of me, I try to tame my grin before answering.

  "Sometime tomorrow. Probably before afternoon. Depends on transportation and a thing or two I have to do first."

  "Oh…"

  "Plans?" I ask.

  "We were supposed to be at the ranch."

  My grin becomes unmanageable again.

  "No problem. I'll meet you there."

  "Lindy will be ecstatic to see Emerson."

  There is an ever-so-slightly droll undercurrent to her voice as she speaks of my boss. It has crept into her tone sin
ce Caiden's rescue. Once I get her alone in person, I'll work on figuring out what it all means.

  "I imagine Sutton won't mind seeing you," she teases.

  "I imagine he won't," I agree. "But the boss won't be with me. He's assisting with prisoner transport on this one."

  "Doesn't want the big fish to slip off the hook?"

  "Exactly." Glancing around me, I spot activity the next building over. An older woman is giving me the stink eye.

  "Have to go," I tell Delia. "Locals are getting suspicious."

  She laughs but then her tone sobers. "Wherever you are, love, stay safe."

  "Always," I agree. "Love you."

  She offers the same goodbye, the cheer in her voice genuine. Two weeks have passed since Caiden's rescue and she now sounds like her old self. If it weren't for Sutton and the rest of the Turk family in Willow Gap, I don't think she or Caiden would have recovered so quickly after his rescue.

  I bounce the phone in my hand. There's another call to make, but I'm nervous about it. Tension grips my spine and I want to be relaxed when I talk to Sutton.

  I slide the phone between my thighs then stretch for a few seconds. Pressing my palms against the sedan's ceiling, I walk them back until my shoulders are fully stretched. Then I wrap a hand around the opposing elbow and stretch the captured arm in the direction of the other shoulder.

  With the extended manhunt for Sprankle and all the attendant hours in vehicles and planes, I have perfected the art of car yoga. At least when it comes to the upper body.

  My butt, on the other hand, feels like it has turned to concrete.

  Dropping my arms, I let my shoulders sag and roll my neck. On the last roll, I look to find the woman standing in the same spot. Her attempt at spying on me, however, has moved from surreptitious to overt.

  I wave effusively then retrieve my phone and pull Sutton's number up from the contact list.

  Other than the last three days, we have spent a lot of time talking on the phone since Emerson and I left to hunt Sprankle.

  Calling anyone other than Delia used to be hell. I have a hard time reading people. Take away more than half of my clues as to what the person on the other end of the call might be thinking and I start to shut down.

  But that's not how it is with Sutton. Not anymore. He doesn't mind the long silences on the line that arise when I dive too deep into processing what he says. He doesn't retreat and hang up, doesn't rush to gloss over the silence. He just lets it be, secure in the knowledge that I have to think through certain things longer than others.

  Talking to him is its own therapy. Truly, I don't think there will ever be a cure. And I don't know that there actually needs to be one. I now see that, when surrounded by people who love and understand me, who know when to call me out or, better yet, how to draw me in, my Asperger's stops being a "condition."

  I no longer feel the need to analyze every last possible thing that has been said or could have been said or how someone who was neurotypical would reply so I can craft a normal sounding conversation.

  I am, at long last, living in the moment.

  That presence in the present gives me access to my feelings that I've never had. All the anxiety and fear about my place in the world and among people has surrendered space to other emotions. I have room to explore other feelings.

  Now I want to express those other feelings to Sutton.

  Cheeks hurting from how hard I'm smiling, I press the CALL icon on my phone.

  "Hey, Maddy baby!"

  Sutton's voice infuses me with instant warmth.

  "Hey," I answer back.

  "Buzzsaw was just about to dial you," he laughs.

  I have yet to meet the horse, but I have a lot to thank the beast for.

  "So you're at the ranch?"

  "Yeah. The vet just finished up with him. Buzz hates his tetanus shot. He needs me or Mama with him or the vet will be in for a spot of trouble."

  "You catch that guy?" he asks after a couple seconds too many of silence.

  "Yes," I answer. "Hey, listen, I thought I should tell you before someone else does."

  For the first time in two weeks, Sutton's voice fills with hesitation. "What is it?"

  I want to play my answer straight, but it's hard not to grin or laugh.

  "Well, there's an unfamiliar car parked in your driveway."

  I take a deep breath, my sides starting to hurt as I suppress a bad case of nervous giggles.

  "It looks like a rental. There's some crazy redhead talking on her cell phone."

  This is all so spontaneous and new. I take another deep breath and release it with a jittery snort as I finish.

  "Very suspicious if you ask me."

  There's a crash. From the sounds of it, Sutton loses his phone for a few seconds. A rushed mumble to someone else follows.

  "Put Buzz up for me, will ya?"

  Then his voice comes back as strong as ever.

  "On my way to investigate, baby."

  I step out of the rental as Sutton pulls his truck into the driveway. He parks and exits his own vehicle in what has to be record time.

  As he rounds in on me, it's clear he has no intention of slowing down. I prepare myself for impact.

  His arms slide around me. He bends his knees, just a little dip that secures his locked forearms below the curve of my bottom.

  He lifts, my feet leave the ground.

  "Kiss me," he demands despite our very public performance.

  Hugging his shoulders, I offer a chaste peck.

  "I need more, Maddy."

  "Well," I tease. "Delia doesn't expect to see me until tomorrow."

  Grinning, he sets me on my feet, clasps my hand and pulls me with him to his front door.

  We step into the cool interior. He backs me up against the wall. His hard body presses against my softer flesh. Yielding, I mold around him. He glosses over my lips to seize my throat.

  Fire crackles down my spine.

  His hands toy with my flesh. He presses a kiss on the underside of my chin. My head tilts back, offering him an all-access pass.

  "Keys," Sutton murmurs.

  I shake the cobwebs from my head and look at him.

  "Give me your keys, baby."

  I pull them from my pocket. A frustrated pout pushes my mouth forward when he takes the keys and turns away. Then curiosity overtakes me as he opens a drawer on a side table and pulls out a fresh cut key.

  Threading it onto the ring, he cuts a voracious glance in my direction.

  "You need something to drink or want to freshen up in the restroom, you better do it quick. After that, your body is mine for the next few hours."

  I like to think I am a feminist at heart. But at this moment?

  No fucking way.

  I turn toward the kitchen to grab a quick drink.

  I don't make it past the coffee table.

  "Sutton?"

  He comes up behind me, wraps his arms around my torso in such a way that one hand cups a breast and the other slides down to cover my mound. I close my eyes for a moment, my mind suddenly dizzy from arousal.

  "What it is, Maddy?"

  Something…

  With the way he's touching me, with the hard press of his body against my backside, I will need to open my eyes to remember why I stopped and called his name.

  Couch…drink…coffee table…

  "That."

  I point at a small velvet box, black in color. It sits center of the coffee table. Next to it is a yellow notepad covered in bold, black writing, some of the lines crossed out.

  "Oh…that," he says.

  I turn to catch him rubbing anxiously at his jaw.

  I sit down before I pass out.

  "Maddy, I, uh…"

  Sutton kneels in front of me. The muscles of my face go crazy as I try to process too many emotions at once. He captures my hand and holds it firmly between his.

  "I'm sorry, baby. I was so excited to see you that I forgot I had it out."

  I slide m
y hand from his and pick up the sheet of notepaper. Starting at the top, I work my way toward the bottom.

  Plane banner? Lame!

  Somewhere exotic? Family has 2b there.

  Trail of yard signs, family at the end???

  Horse ride and picnic? Meh.

  Spell out WYMM with candles? Where at? Stables? Floating on the lake? Use flowers instead???

  There are more lines, but all of them are crossed out, some mercifully so.

  Dropping the pad onto the couch, I cover my mouth with my hands.

  My shaking hands.

  Soon to be my wet and shaking hands.

  Sutton pulls them from my face, draws them to his lips and presses a kiss against my knuckles.

  "Just tell me what you're thinking, baby."

  Gaze already flooding, I look at him and smile.

  "I'm thinking how much I love you…and what color dress our fairy flower girl would like."

  Chapter Thirty

  An early cold snap crisps the air on our wedding day. I stand on a stage built for the occasion. The edifice covers the spot where Teddy Raspell landed on Mama's lawn. More chairs than I ever want to count are lined up like carefully arranged troops on a battlefield.

  Every last chair is occupied. Aunt Dotty has declared it the biggest Turk wedding she has ever seen and I'm pretty sure she has seen them all. At least the ones that came after she was born.

  The crowd size is due, in part, to the rescue efforts to bring Caiden home. Everyone who participated that day had a seat offered to them. Most accepted the invitation. To further thank them, all the attractions of the ranch's annual Volunteer Day have been set up for the reception.

  We aren't asking for gifts, but donations to Willow Gap's new search and rescue fund are encouraged.

  Maddy and I can't take credit for the idea. If it was up to us, we would have eloped last month. It was Caiden who came up with the compromise of Mama wanting a big Turk wedding and Maddy and I wanting the simplest of ceremonies.

  "It's not a big wedding," he argued. "It's a little wedding and big fair!"

  Catching sight of the boy, I wave him over.

  "How are the rings doing, Sarge?"