For You (The 'Burg Series) (59 page)

“Reece –” I started then couldn’t say it.

When I stopped talking and said no more, Reece read me. We’d been in and out of each other’s lives for a long time but we talked on the phone relatively frequently. He didn’t know me through and through but he knew me well enough.

“Fuck,” he bit out, “means you’ll not be callin’ at all.”

“Reece.”

“That hit me harder than I expected too.”

“Reece –”

He cut me off. “Fucked up.”

“Don’t do that.”

“Fucked up, I knew I had a good thing, threw it away.
Fuck!
”

“You didn’t throw it away.”

“How many times I watch you walk away from me, Feb? How many times you watch me?”

“Reece, don’t.”

“Too fuckin’ many. Means I fucked up.”

I pressed my torso deeper into my knees and whispered, “It wasn’t meant to be, honey.”

“I put an ounce of effort in it I coulda made it meant to be.”

I wasn’t certain this was true, not now. Maybe years ago when I met him. He was a good guy and he never fucked me over. He was handsome, he was charming, he was smart. Always honest with me. When I had him, I had all of him. He made me laugh, not like I used to but he did it. He knew I loved the bike and he loved it too and taking me out on it. We fit together, were comfortable, would fall in with each other within seconds of being back. The sex wasn’t great, like with Colt, but it was really good.

Now. No.

But I didn’t tell him that and I didn’t know if that was the right thing to do or the wrong thing.

“Sorry, Feb. You don’t need this shit now, do you, beautiful? What is it, one o’clock?”

“Two.”

“Fuck, sorry darlin’.”

“Don’t be.”

“I’ll call in.”

“Thanks, Reece.”

“Sleep tight, beautiful.”

“Reece?” I called before he disconnected.

“Yeah, Feb?”

“You find another, don’t watch her walk away,” I said.

He laughed and it wasn’t like he usually laughed. It was like Colt’s bitter laughter earlier that night and it also pressed to my flesh like a blade but it broke through and my blood beaded the edge.

Then he said, “Ain’t another like you.”

Then he disconnected. It took me awhile to flip the phone closed and when I did my hand dropped to the mattress and I pressed my cheek to my knee.

I felt the phone slide out of my hand and the bed moving with Colt. I heard my phone hit the nightstand then the light went out. Then his hands were on me, pulling me back, down, tucking me against his side, wrapping his arm around me, holding me close. I draped my arm around his stomach and I held him tight. Wilson settled into the small of my back, knowing with cat knowledge I needed his presence there, his warmth, closer, all for me, not at our feet.

We were silent. There were no words for times like these.

At least I thought there weren’t.

I thought that before Colt said, “What’d I say, baby? I’m the fuckin’ lucky one in this bed, seein’ as he watched you walk away which meant you were free to make your way back to me.”

That’s when I started crying and Colt’s other hand came to my hair, sifting through it, pulling it away from my face then again and again before he curled his fingers around my neck and kept them there. I didn’t know or care if it was cool to cry about another man while in my man’s arms.

Lucky for me, Colt didn’t seem to mind.

Chapter Ten

Reece

Colt’s phone rang, I knew it from the tone and it jarred me awake.

Keeping me at his side, he reached for it and I snuggled closer as he started talking.

“Colton.” Pause. “Yeah, right.” Pause. “Where?” Pause. “Got it. Gotta get someone in for Feb then I’ll be there. Yeah. Later.”

I lifted up to an elbow, pulled my hair out of my face and watched as he used his thumb on his phone, the light of the display illuminating his face.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Robbery,” he answered, hit a button and put the phone to his ear.

I settled back into him, resting my head on his shoulder and draping my arm around his stomach, mumbling, “Bummer.”

I was half asleep when he flipped his phone closed, moved and then I heard buttons being pressed.

I slid my cheek along his skin to look up at him as he put the phone to his ear.

“What?” I asked.

“Your Dad’s not pickin’ up, phone’s probably not close or he’s out,” Colt replied then he said, “Darryl?”

I got back up on my elbow and stared at him.

“Yeah, listen, I gotta go out on a call and Jack’s not answering. Morrie closed and I know you’re just in too but they need a break from this business and someone’s gotta look after Feb. You think Phy would be cool with you comin’ over and crashin’ on my couch for a few hours?” Colt paused and I not only wondered what the answer would be but also when Darryl had been added onto Colt’s Person Who I Trust to Protect Feb List.
 

Phylenda, Darryl’s wife, was a good woman, a strong one and chock full of attitude. She had to be, she knew anytime her man could fall off the wagon, do something stupid and, with a strike three, be gone for a good long time so she’d be responsible for taking care of two kids who lived with the knowledge that their Dad was in prison again. She knew this because she’d done it before.

She didn’t come into the bar much because their kids were seven and nine and couldn’t come with her. Not to mention she had a full-time job too and, with Darryl’s hours, did most of the child rearing. And lastly, she didn’t have people close to help out and she tended to keep herself to herself. Though I saw her, just not often. We closed the bar annually for a staff Christmas party where family was invited and we gave out bonuses to Darryl, Ruthie and Fritzi. At the Christmas party, as a grand finale, Morrie disappeared (Dad used to do this) and came out as Santa Claus and gave all their kids gifts, or, in Fritzi’s case, her grandkids. We’d also close when we had our summer barbeque for close friends and the staff was always there. Dad did it for years and Morrie carried on the tradition. Not to mention, I was one of the few people Phy would let watch her kids. Not that I did it often, sometimes when Darryl got his shit together and took her out and other times when she’d had enough and needed to go by herself to a movie.

I understood her and I liked her. She liked me back and there were not many of those kinds of folks on her list so I’d always felt honored by it. Still, I wasn’t sure she’d want Darryl to get pulled into this shit.

“Thanks, Darryl, see you soon.”

There it was. Phy didn’t mind Darryl being pulled into this shit. Another indication about how they both felt about me.

“Hope the bar keeps this turnover,” I said to Colt as he flipped shut what I saw now was my phone likely because he didn’t have Darryl programmed into his. “I’m thinkin’ bonuses should be a lot bigger this year.”

Colt didn’t answer. He just curled up, taking me with him then he twisted and put me down on my back.

Then he touched his lips to mine and said, “Go back to sleep, Feb. I won’t leave before Darryl gets here but, when I do, I’ll be gone awhile.”

My hand aimed at his neck, I had good aim luckily so my fingers curled around it before I whispered, “Okay.”
 

He touched his lips to mine again then moved to pull away. I dropped my hand before he twisted back and looked down at me.

He didn’t say anything so I asked, “What?”

“This happens a lot, honey, crime doesn’t occur just nine to five.”

I felt what he was saying to me like each word wrapped around me, twining me in velvet lined rope.

He was telling me my future, what it’ll be like, me being in his life.

God, I hoped that rope never dropped away.

“Bars aren’t open just nine to five either, Alec,” I said quietly.

I watched his shadowed head nod before he bent and gave me another kiss.

“We’ll work it out,” he murmured.

Then he exited the bed and I settled into it. It was just coming up to five in the morning and I was dog tired but I still listened to him moving around, getting dressed, going into the living room. Wilson was following him around, I knew, because Wilson was meowing. It was early for his breakfast but I knew Colt gave it to him because Wilson shut up. I also knew Colt gave it to him probably to shut him up.

I couldn’t know for sure, but I think I fell asleep smiling.

* * * * *

Hours later I was standing at the counter on the kitchen side of Colt’s bar, one of Meems’s coffees half-drunk in front of me, the remains of one of her blueberry muffins to my side. I was wearing a pair of cutoff, faded jeans shorts with a hem so frayed, they should probably be tossed but I’d had them so long, I didn’t have the heart to do it. I put on one of my older Harley tees, also faded, with my shorts and some slouchy socks. The mid-March weather had been a bit on the warmer side than usual but I still had on my socks because I always wore socks or slippers on my feet when I was in comfort mode.

Jessie was sitting on a stool opposite next to Josie Judd, their own Meems’s detritus in front of them. Chip, Josie’s husband and one of Chip’s workers, Brad, were in the den positioning motion detectors in the corners.

Jessie had run into Josie at the Coffee House when she was on her way over and had stopped to pick up breakfast for her and me. Josie, being a friend, knowing her husband was working at Colt’s house (and therefore being curious), hooked up with Jessie and came with her. We’d been nattering for half an hour while Chip and Brad put the finishing touches on Colt’s new security system, playing double duty as bodyguards to me. When they got there, Darryl dragged his ass off the couch and went home.

Through the window I saw Colt head down the walk that ran the front of his house and I was watching the door when he came through it.

Jessie and Josie twisted on their stools and I straightened, pushing off my forearms which I was resting on the counter. Colt got four, “Hey Colts,” and he returned the greetings but I was giving him the jaw-tilt and not only did his eyes never leave me, he came directly to me.

I turned to him when he hit the kitchen and got close. Instead of smiling at me, he put a hand to the side of my neck and used it to pull me toward him and up. I went on my toes and he touched his mouth to mine. I heard, straight out, Josie’s loud sigh and I nearly rolled my eyes but that might make Colt do more than a lip touch and I liked Josie, I didn’t want her to expire from delight in Colt’s dining area.

“You catch ‘em?” I asked when he lifted his head.

“Baby, I just left the crime scene.”

“So? I thought you were Superman.”

He grinned and his grin communicated two things. One, he thought I was funny. Two, he was remembering our conversation last night. I felt warmth hit my cheeks and other more intimate places and found that, two minutes before I was happy for all the company I had. Just then, I wished they’d all go away.

His fingers at my neck gave me a squeeze and he said, “Gotta hit the shower and get back to the Station.”

At the thought of Colt in the shower, Josie sighed again, this time louder.

He let me go, slid a glance across a grinning Jessie and a stars-in-her-eyes Josie and walked out of the kitchen and through the living room. Jessie, Josie and I watched him go. I was concentrating so hard on watching him move, I didn’t note where their eyes were fixed. Personally, I was having trouble deciding where to put my own. Colt was a big guy and there was a lot to see, all of it good. He’d need to walk down a football field for you to have time to get it all in.

I turned, opened the cupboard, grabbed a mug and poured him some joe before following him with a, “Be back in a sec,” aimed at the girls.

When I hit the bedroom, Colt was standing by the bed and staring at the large pile of black clothes Jessie had brought over for me to go through in an effort to find something respectable to wear to Amy’s funeral. Wilson was curled into a ball in the middle of the pile and he was ignoring Colt and me. It was morning naptime which fed naturally into afternoon naptime after which there was a short period of energy during the evening where sometimes he’d run around the house like a mad cat and others he’d just wander around meowing for no reason before it was time to bed down for the night.