For You (The 'Burg Series) (60 page)

“They’re Jessie’s,” I told Colt, explaining the pile of clothes and handing him the mug of coffee.

“She movin’ in too?” Colt asked, eyes still on the clothes, lifting the coffee to his lips but I had stopped breathing.

What did he mean “too”?

Was I moving in? Did he
want
me to move in? Did
I
want to move in?
 

We’d been back together for four days. I thought that was pretty much the definition of “too soon”. Then again, we’d known each other for thirty-nine years and that was undeniably the definition of “about fucking time”.

“Feb,” Colt called and my body jolted before I focused on him.

“What?”

“You were starin’ at me like I’d grown a second head.”

“Um…” I started then decided to shy away from the subject, “I asked Jessie to bring them over. I only own bar clothes. I don’t have anything to wear to the funeral.”

“You looked nice in that jeans skirt the other night.”

“I can’t wear a jeans skirt to a funeral,” I informed him, though I knew this was a wasted effort. Women shouldn’t bother saying things to men about the intricate rules of clothing, such as what was appropriate to wear and when. It wasn’t that men didn’t listen. It was that they were genetically programmed not to process such statements, “And anyway, I bought that to go with you to Costa’s. That’s my Costa’s with Colt Skirt.”

“You bought it to go to Costa’s?”

“Well,
I
didn’t. I sent Jessie on a mission.”

I was not monitoring what I was saying, I was still freaking out about the “movin’ in too” comment. If I was, I would have never told him I sent Jessie on a mission to buy an outfit for a date with him. It exposed too much.

He grinned again. This grin communicated two things too. One, he thought I was funny. Two, he knew I liked him, a lot, and he was feeling full of himself.

“Don’t you need to take a shower?” I asked.

He kept grinning through the word, “Yeah.”

I motioned to the bathroom with my head before I started to turn, saying, “Well, there’s crime to be fought, get a move on.”

I didn’t get to the door before he caught me, pulled me back into his body and bent his head to kiss my neck.

Then in my ear, he said, “I remember everything about you and I remember all the reasons why I loved you. Never could forget even when I tried.” I sucked in breath, unprepared for this stealth attack, while he went on. “Who knows, baby? We had all that time together, I coulda got used to it, learned to take it for granted.” His arms gave me a squeeze. “Now, that’ll never happen.”

I felt tears hit my eyes and there were a lot of things I wanted to do. Turn and kiss him. Wrap him in my arms so tight his body would be forced to absorb mine. Rip off his clothes and show him how much I loved him using my hands and my mouth. Or simply tell him I loved him, I had since the moment I set eyes on him and I never stopped.

Instead of any of these, I warned, “Colt, it’s eight forty-five and I haven’t cried yet today. I got a funeral to go to this afternoon. Don’t spoil my run early.”

He ignored me.

“We’ll settle this now,” he said and I braced because I didn’t know what we were settling. It was a good idea to brace because what we were settling rocked my world. “Call your landlord today, tell ‘im you’re givin’ up your lease. You gotta sublet for awhile, fine.”

“Colt –”

“Your Dad, Morrie and I’ll get your shit gradually. Spend some time today sorting it and mark the stuff priority that you need over here.”

“Colt –”

“I don’t give a shit where you put my stuff, what we’ve got double, what you decide to throw away.”

Well, that would mean he’d have matching mugs. I’d travelled light for fifteen years but indulged on a killer set of stoneware when I moved home. It cost a whack and I wasn’t home much to use it but I liked knowing I had it.

I didn’t share this, I said, “Colt –”

“Just don’t move the jerseys or the Harry’s print.”

“Colt –”

“And find some way to lose that fuckin’ picture of flowers your mother put in the second bedroom.”

“Colt –”

“It isn’t me or you.”

He obviously had been so focused on the picture he hadn’t seen the be-flowered sheets and comforter Mom put on the bed or, clearly, the very ruffled dust ruffle. They weren’t me or Colt either, by a long shot.

“Colt!”

“What?”

I turned in his arms and looked up at him. “Are you
telling
me to move in?”

“You got a problem with that?”

This was an excellent question, one to which the only answer was “no” yet, even so, I couldn’t utter that word.

Instead, I said, “Only people probably gonna use that room are Mom and Dad. She wants to sleep under flowers? What do we care?”

He smiled again and this smile only communicated one thing and that one thing made the tears prick my eyes again.

His voice was a lot less pushy and a lot more gentle when he said, “I gotta look at it every day.”

“Then close the door.”

His arms grew tighter, pulling me closer, before he whispered, “I’m gonna say this once and let it go.”

Oh Lord, what now? He was relentless, I couldn’t hack it.

“I missed you, February.”

I was right. I couldn’t hack it. The tears I was fighting back slid from my eyes and I felt my body start trembling in his arms.

“I’ll take those tears this time, seein’ as they’re for me.”

“Alec –” I whispered.

He talked over me, his gaze going from my cheeks to my eyes. “Today, you gotta worry about your funeral outfit, packin’ your shit and one more thing.”

What now?

He didn’t make me wait. “Feds wanna put us in protective custody. They offered it the other night. I’m puttin’ in the security system which’ll help with peace of mind. They protect us, it’s a guarantee this shit goes away without us feelin’ it. This isn’t a decision I can make, you gotta make it, honey. You wanna go away and wait this out, I’ll be with you. You wanna stay and live your life as normal as you can, I’ll do what I can to protect you.”

“Colt –”

“Take the day and tell me tonight.”

As what was going on finally permeated, I tipped my head to the side and stopped crying before I asked, “Is this entire conversation gonna be one-sided or are you gonna let me speak?”

“I gotta get this out
and
get to the Station. You speakin’ means the first one will take longer, delayin’ the second one.”

There was my answer; this conversation was going to be one-sided.

I decided to communicate non-verbally which I did, by glaring at him. He read it, it bothered him not even a little bit and I knew this because he smiled, gave me a squeeze and dropped his arms.

Then I found myself pissed that he’d just told me I was moving in with him, pretty much told me he still loved me, definitely told me he missed me and then he just let me go without kissing me.

“That’s it?” I asked as he shrugged off his blazer and threw it on the bed.

He turned his head to look at me as he pulled the badge off his belt. “What’s it?”
 

I looked at the ceiling and asked it, “Is it me, or was that just a momentous occasion?”

The ceiling had no answer but Colt chuckled and I glared at him again while he tossed his shoulder holster on his blazer.

“Did you ask Jessie to get muffin for me?” he asked.

I blinked, stupefied at the change of subject.
 

“Yes,” I replied and of course I did. I had no idea when he would be home but I knew he’d eventually be home and Jessie was going to Meems’s. No one missed out on Mimi’s muffins if they could help it. It was a crime against nature.

“Blueberry?” he asked.

Mimi made a lot of different muffins but the way she made her blueberry ones, with the crunchy sprinkles on top, made them the only way to go.

“Yeah,” I said.

“Split it in half, baby, butter it and nuke it. I’ll be out in a minute.”

I watched, frozen, as he moved to collect the coffee cup he’d put on my nightstand before he’d grabbed me earlier. He took a sip, his golden eyes on me over the rim then put it back down.

“Feb. Muffin?”

I came out of my deep freeze with a jerk and asked, “What am I? Your waitress?”

“Honey, last night, the least I earned was an omelet and you know it,” he said as he started to unbutton his shirt. “This mornin’, you can butter and nuke a muffin for me.”

This was, unfortunately, true. My Omelet a la Feb was awesome. Though it was more that he earned a waffle. My waffles were killer. The orgasm last night he’d given me
while
holding me up and pinned against the wall – definitely waffle material. I could butter and nuke a muffin for him.

Even so, I turned to the door, muttering, “I’m rethinking breakfast payback.”

I was two feet away from the door before his arm came around me again, I saw his other arm shoot out then I saw the door slam shut then I was turned and my body slammed against it. I lifted my chin to look at him and, a half a second later, Colt’s mouth was on mine.

In the seconds I could think clearly before the kiss took all my concentration, I knew he’d been fucking with me. That kiss was wet, hard, long and involved a goodly deal of hand exploration, both his and mine (his, mostly at my ass, mine, the same on his ass). It was the kind of kiss you had to celebrate a momentous occasion. It was the kind of kiss you never forgot your whole life.

When he broke the connection of our mouths, he rested his forehead to mine and whispered, “I’ll look forward to you making my house ours, Feb.”

Then he let me go, leaving me against the door. He walked to the nightstand, grabbed his coffee and then hit the bathroom, closing the door halfway.

I watched this whole thing, unable to move. I didn’t know what I was feeling because I never felt it in my entire life. Never. Not when we were together before. Not anytime while I grew up in a happy house with a family I loved who looked out for me. Never. I wasn’t even certain there was a word for it but, like the kiss that came just before, I knew I’d ever forget standing there at Colt’s bedroom door, feeling that startlingly miraculous feeling.

After I pulled myself together, wiped my face with my hands, turned, opened and walked out the door, I took a few deep breaths as I walked down the hall.

Jessie and Josie watched my progress but I was too busy freaking out at the same time trying to stop myself from doing cartwheels and maybe a few girlie, cheerleader jumps in the air with my arms straight up, waving imaginary pom poms to pay any attention to them.

“You were in there a lot longer than it took to hand Colt a mug of coffee,” Jessie, always nosy, remarked.

I resumed my place at the counter about the same time my eyes hit hers, not together enough to remind myself that I usually kept myself to myself, even sometimes with friends, and I shared, “Colt’s decided I’m moving in with him, I think he still loves me, he told me he missed me, the Feds have offered us protective custody and it’s my decision if we go away while this all goes down.”

Jessie stared at me eyes wide for three beats then she said, “You weren’t in there long enough for all
that
.”

“Colt’s focused. He has to get to the Station.”

“Are you moving in with him?” Josie asked and I looked at her.

“You didn’t hear me. Colt’s
decided
I’m moving in with him and he’s focused. He didn’t actually open it up for discussion.”

“He
told
you to move in with him?” Jessie asked, her eyebrows so far up, half her forehead disappeared. It was clear by the look on her face she couldn’t wrap her mind around this concept. I doubt Jimbo ever
told
Jessie to do anything. Then again, I also doubted Jimbo was up for the task of holding her by her ass with her back pressed against the wall while he fucked her, hard, until she had a mind-boggling orgasm.