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“Stay as long as you want. I’ll leave you a set of keys. You can come and go as you please.”
“Are you sure about that?” I ask.
“Yep.” He’s direct and succinct in his statement.
“I’ll make you a key for my place, too.” Fletch tilts his head to the side. He’s about to say no, so I do what I always do when it comes to getting the last word in. I place my finger on his lips and say, “I know things will be tricky right now, but one day, you’ll be able to use it, too.” His hand finds my wrist, pulling my finger from his lips, and he nips at the tip. He doesn’t respond with words. Instead, he steps closer, kissing me into silence and telling me in a different way he likes my idea.
Chapter 6
Fletch
Iwas late for work. Not that we have a set time to be in the office. Once my ass hits the seat in my police-issued SUV and I turn the ignition, I’m on the clock. Still, it would have been nice not to be the last deputy to walk into the building on a random weekday.
“Hey, Wild, good to see you back,” the receptionist greets me as I walk through the glass doors. I’ve got a to-go cup of coffee in one hand courtesy of the blonde bombshell who had me re-thinking coming back to work. The heavy make-out session did nothing to calm down the semi I was sporting all morning, and the only reason I pulled away from Delilah was because the woman was trying to climb me like a tree. Any other given time, I’d have said fuck it and bore the consequences, except I heard the small hiss of pain coming from her. My male ego was ready to thump my chest with fucking pride. I did that, wore her out so she’s feeling me hours later. The other was pissed because she was in pain, and that also meant I’d either have to take it easy with her, or her pussy would be off limits. Fuck, that is the last thing I want. I’ve become intoxicated and addicted to her in every single way.
“Hey, Susan.” I wave at her with my unoccupied hand. “Did I miss anything?”
“Nope, it’s been a pretty quiet week. You know what that means.” Her lips tip up in a smile, but her facial expression tells another story.
“This weekend is going to be hell on earth,” I finish for her.
“You’ve got that right. Glad to see you’re back all the same.” No one would come out and say anything, yet when one guy is out, it makes the schedule a bit tighter around the station. We all work more hours than scheduled. Shit happens. We’ve all had to pull a double, holidays are just another day, and the only way most survive is through overtime. Especially the guys who have families. The pay is shit for what we do. We do our job because we love it, plain and simple. For whatever reason, each of us is pulled in this direction for a cause of our own, whether it be a family generational thing, wanting to help due to a traumatic event, or any other given reason. I’d wanted to be a cop when I was a youngster. I’d play with my brothers, making them be the robbers so I could arrest them. It only made me want to become a cop that much more when the news was delivered about how our parents died. On the cusp of teenage hood, a shit ton of hormones and rage running through my blood had me veering off the right path. I wasn’t into anything illegal, but I was all about partying and not settling down. Hell, even the thoughts of ever finding my forever woman weren’t on my radar. The past week has me changing my ways, and it’s all due to Delilah.
I got the smallest taste of her and started to rethink my ways. My parents loved each other so much that if one of them survived, it would have slowly killed the other, and we’d have witnessed them die slowly. Back then, none of us were thinking about anything but our grief. Almost twenty years later, I understand that while losing them fucking sucked, both of them going together was ultimately better, even if that’s a hard pill to swallow.
“Thanks. Hopefully, I won’t take any more time off for a while.” I keep to myself on those dark days, and no one is the wiser, minus my brothers on the rare occasion when I need a ride.
“We all deserve to have days off, Fletcher. You shouldn’t have to work yourself to the bone to live.” Susan is a wise one. She’s also around the age my mother would have been.
“Then shouldn’t you be practicin’ what you preach?” I lift an eyebrow in question. She huffs out a puff of air and rolls her eyes.
“Honey, a few more years, and I’ll be walking around in shorts and sandals. Retirement is going to look good for this old lady.” She takes a sip of her coffee, then the phone rings, and Susan enters work mode. The same damn thing I should be doing. My head is everywhere except in the game. I’m going to have to screw it on straight and stop fucking around, or I’m going to find out.
I continue my walk toward my desk. With Peach Springs being a small town, there are only a few of us on duty at the same time. The station is pretty quiet. Wyatt, one of the other deputies, is on the phone, saving me from having another conversation and giving me time to settle in. George, must be out on patrol, probably a good thing since my place is going to be at my desk for the foreseeable future in order to get caught up. Joseph, Michael, and Dom are here during the night shift for the next few months, then we’ll rotate. That’s the shit part of the job. It’s not the paperwork that’s a pain in the ass. It’s getting into a new routine, finally settling in and then switching up again.
“Jesus.” I pull my chair out as I look down at the mounds of files on my desk. It’s going to be one of those days. My coffee is nearly finished, and sadly, the sludge in the breakroom is too damn nasty to drink. There’s strong coffee, and then there’s coffee that puts hair on your chest. Indigestion is not an additive I’m ready to throw into the work week. I take a seat in my chair, power on my computer, and start sifting through what’s on my desk. It’s not like me to leave my work unattended, but seeing as how I met up with my brothers after work, figuring I’d be at the station the next day, I didn’t bother taking any files home. Now, I’m going to be glued to this fucking place for however long it takes, stuck with shitty-ass coffee.
“Wild,” Chief Taylor says my name just as I’m about to start working through the mountain of a mess on my desk.
“Chief Taylor.” We might have all come to know each other through the years, but one thing you don’t fuck around with is addressing him correctly or messing with his daughter. Since I can smell Delilah lingering on my clothes, I’d say I’m well and truly fucked if he moves any closer or asks me to come to his office.
“Someone’s getting canned,” Wyatt jokes like he’s got room to talk.
“The only person who’s going to get canned is you, Brewer.” Taylor makes his way toward our desk.
“And with that, I’m outta here.” He stands up like the flames of hell are licking at his heels. Wyatt has had a few fender benders since he’s taken the job here. Nothing major, and none were his fault, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t take a beating for it either.
“Later,” I say. Taylor nods and walks closer to my desk.
I figure it’s do or die, so to speak. Chief Taylor, much like the rest of us, can sniff a liar out a mile away. The mannerisms in which people portray themselves, the lack of eye contact, crossing your arms over your chest, fidgeting, and a slew of other tells give us a clear indicator. Which is why I’ve got to be on my A-game. There’s no way I’m ready for the confrontation and the ass kicking I’m sure to receive for sniffing around his daughter. I keep my limbs loose, my eyes focused, and wait for him to cut to the chase.
“You doing okay?” Christ. Now I feel like the asshole of all assholes. Here I am, worrying about him knowing about me and his daughter, and he’s asking about me.
“Yeah, a lot better. Sorry about that.” He knows I take time off every year on their anniversary to be by myself. This year, it hit harder. My parents being gone for twenty years, the memorial being donated in their name after the property was bought out from underneath them, it was the perfect fucking storm, and it hit me right at the worst possible time.
“Nothing to be sorry about, Fletch. They were damn good people, didn’t deserve what happened to them, and you boys didn’t either. Plus, I think we all know you could leave for a month without worrying about touching all your accrued paid time off.”
“I don’t think taking a month off would be a good idea. There’s only so many planes a man can jump out of or places to explore until he’s ready to be home.” Long weekend trips are the key for me to refuel. Of course, now I’m thinking about taking Delilah with me and what she’d think about some of my explorations. One thing is for sure: I wouldn’t mind taking her somewhere tropical, a place that has a waterfall, and seeing her in nothing but a bathing suit.
