Chapter four

Joey Addams. Biker. Bodyguard. Trained fighter. Househusband.

I know, right? I can’t believe it either. The fact, is, though, that I’ve very much enjoyed playing house these last few weeks with the enchanting Winter McDonald.

Although keeping an ever vigilante watch over our house and property, I also savor my every moment with this wonderful, beautiful woman. One moment we’re laughing like kids and watching our favorite Christmas movies—she loves “White Christmas” and “Miracle on 34th Street”, I prefer “Die Hard” and “Lethal Weapon”, and we both love “Home Alone”—the next we’re making out like a couple of love-struck teen-agers on the floral print couch that sits just before the fireplace in our ranch house living room. One minute we’re decorating our Christmas tree—the tree that I bought at a local lumber yard—and the next we’re making mad, passionate love beneath its branches.

We sometimes even venture outside of the house, walking hand in hand or sometimes biking across the tree-filled, snow-kissed land that defines our farm; and stopping for a few minutes to build a cheery snowman or challenge each other to a heated—well, actually, very chilly—snowball fight.

Sometimes, of course, reality comes crashing in on our own private paradise. We get regular phone calls from Pete; calls that Winter insists on taking in private, that seem to go on for an hour or more. And she calls her mother at least twice a day, to ensure her safety and wellbeing.

I find myself revealing to this woman things that I never thought I’d tell anyone; and when she asks me what a nice guy like me is doing in a biker gang, I feel compelled to tell her the truth.

“Well you might be surprised to know, babe, that I actually love to read every bit as much as you do,” I reveal. “Oh, I doubt that we read the same things. I always did favor Clancy over Austin, Spillane over Christie.”

“But you know what it’s like to lose yourself in a book,” Winter interrupts me with a smile. “To forget about all of your problems and discover your own, more fun other world. When you read, Joey, you can go anywhere. And that’s exactly why I’ve always wanted to teach the love of reading to kids, especially those who might not have grown up under the best of circumstances.”

I nod.

“Kinda like me,” I deadpan. “Unfortunately, I had the kind of parents that would knock my books out of my hand and tell me to stop acting like a pussy,” I recall with a cringe. “The first opponent I ever fought was my own father—and it was after a street fight with some random punk I didn’t even know that I found my real dad.” I pause here, continuing with a smile, “Pete rescued me from the fight, then took me home to clean me up and offer me a job at his biker bar. I mean, not that a 16-year-old had any business mopping the floors at a rough and tumble hole in the wall; but at least I was out of that poisonous hellhole that was never really a home—and, for that matter, I was off the streets.”

“Pete home schooled me and taught me to care of myself,” I continue, adding with a shrug, “And while he made me a part of his gang, he also encouraged me to keep reading and learning.”

I take in my breath as Winter’s gorgeous eyes suddenly come alight with an inspired glow.

“And so you kept picking up the books that were knocked out of your hand,” she observes, voice barely above a whisper. “You made a better life for yourself, against the odds.”

Ducking my head, I cast my glance upward to regard my lady with a look of shy thanks.

“And by committing your life to teaching, you’ll be helping so many kids like me do the same thing. You’ll be doing for them just what Pete did for me. He wanted me to have a better future—though just what kind of a future that will be, I swear I’m still not sure.”

Winter nods.

“Well as usual Joey, you and I just have too much in common,” Winter sighs, spreading her hands before her. “I spend my life building a future with the help of parents who adore me—actually enjoying school and looking forward to what I hoped would be a great career.” She pauses here, staring with wide, stunned eyes out a nearby window, “Now it’s all gone. My parents have been ripped away from me, and I don’t know if or when I’ll ever go back to school. If I do live through this, I too have no idea about what the future will hold.”

Taking her hand in mine, I raise it to my loving lips for a long, sweet kiss.

“Well Miss, I can’t rightly answer that question,” I admit, adding with a warm smile, “I do hope that, whatever that future holds, I just happen to be a part of it.”

Squeezing my fingers in hers, Winter raises my hand to her cheek and rubs my rough knuckles against her soft skin; seeming to enhance me with her touch and presence.

“You know, from the first time I really sat down to talk to you, and definitely the first time we made love, I knew without a doubt that you were a diamond in the rough,” she tells me. “I must admit, though, that I have now amended my opinion. You, Joseph, are just a diamond.”

And every evening we sit with hands joined at the lace-covered dining table in the quaint, comfy dining room of our temporary home; a room that shines in its gold painted walls, vaulted ceilings, and Cherrywood china cabinets.

One evening I serve her up a piping hot plate of my grandma’s famous lasagna—a top secret Italian recipe that has been passed on for generations. I watch with a smile as my dainty, ladylike guest ploughs through her first two helpings with unbelievable gusto—looking up just long enough for me to pile a third onto her plate.

“Deifiious,” she exclaims with a full mouth, clapping her hands together with girlish glee. “Your grandmuffer sure knows how to cook, and so do you!”

I chuckle.

“Why thank ya, Darlin. She’s the master of the meatball, I just try to copy and plagiarize her every recipe, as closely as possible,” I reply with a smile, adding more seriously, “Anything I can do to cheer you up, Babe, is well worth the effort. I can’t even imagine what you’re going through right now…”

I fall silent as a suddenly solemn Winter holds up a restraining hand between us; halting my words with the firm shake of her head.

“I know you’re only trying to help,” she addresses me, tone soft but firm. “But please don’t mention the circumstances that brought me to this place. I still don’t know how to cope with this, Joey. The pain is just too fresh in my mind and heart, and—frankly—I don’t know how to deal with it.”

With these words she manages a faint but sincere smile, leaning forward to touch my lips with a soft, sweet kiss.

“Right now, my baby,” she releases on a whisper. “I just want to focus on you, and us, and….”

“Say no more, my lady,” I release on a growl, surging forward to claim her lips in a kiss meant to comfort.

Soft and tentative at first, I touch my mouth with hers and reach forward to place two nurturing hands on her petite, dainty shoulders. My lips tell Winter what words cannot, stroking and coaxing hers with upmost tenderness as she murmurs soft and bidding in response.

Leaning full and hungry into my kiss, Winter purrs as my fingers dig into the skin of her tension wrought shoulders and make every attempt to rub away her pain.

Our tongues entangle between us as our kiss intensifies, our breaths intermingling as I lean forward to hug my lady closer to me.

My heart pounds in my chest as her soft, pearl pink lips rub and coax my own, the soft strands of her soft dark hair tickling the skin of my hands as our mouths smack together in a show of great tenderness.

Finally Winter breaks our kiss, drawing back to regard me with what I can only describe as emerald eyes on fire.

Hey, I’m nobody’s poet; but I swear this bright, beautiful, delightfully feisty woman has brought out a whole new, much softer side of me.

“Winter, I know that all of this is moving so quickly,” I whisper, raising my big, work roughened hands gentle to her face to sooth and caress her flushing cheeks. “And, tough guy that I am, I don’t know quite how to say what I want to say. Just know that—well—I’m really coming to care for you. I’ll do anything to keep you safe for as long as I need to—and, after this terrible nightmare of a situation has finally passed over our heads, I hope that you’ll make the choice to stay with me.”

Gracing my words with an angelic smile, Winter nods and says everything in two simple words.

“My protector.”