Hot and Sweaty
Keelie
I don’t do this.
I never allow myself this.
I had a handle on everything. Just when I was able to separate it, tuck it away where I could deal with it in my brain and not my heart, he had to go and ruin it by not letting me be.
He came at me with his words and his whispers and his touches.
Fuck. It all came flooding back. Telling my kids they’d never see their dad again. Having to be strong for them, showing them I could handle it, proving to them I’d do anything and everything to soften that blow so their life would go on with as little change as possible. I’d give them goats, space camps, throw a ball, and renovate a house I resented because, to me, it was tied to David’s lies and addictions. But for them, they just lost their dad. He wasn’t a shit dad, just a shit husband. So, for my kids, I’d do anything.
Having survived a barrage of bullets, scared for Emma’s life, seeing my own blood, and then, finally, what cut me to the core, walking in to my kids eating bananas and thinking how differently their day could’ve ended…
I had to pack it all away, clean it up neat and tidy, and compartmentalize it with all the other shit I can’t seem to deal with, because if I were to face it, this would happen.
I’d fall apart.
Damn him.
Just when the glue holding all of my million pieces together dissolves away into a cloud of nothingness, I feel myself going up. As my body trembles and wracks, Asa’s big arms hold me to him, one under my knees and the other up my back with his hand buried in my hair.
“Shh,” he whispers in my ear, pressing my face into the side of his. “You don’t want to wake your kids.”
This makes me lose it further.
Even though I can’t see a thing through my tears, I feel Asa moving swiftly up my stairs.
He must have kicked the door shut because it slams, echoing through the space. When I pull away, my room is darkened, blurry through my tears. He stops at my bed and before I know it, he lays me down on my good shoulder. I hear the clomp of his boots hit my wood floors before the bed moves and I’m in his arms again.
Dipping his hand under his shirt he put on me earlier—and after this day, I’ve decided I’m not giving it back because I love it—he presses in on my back and tangles his heavy, jean-clad legs with mine.
“You need to get it out,” his deep voice rumbles in my hair and the whiskers on his chin tickle my forehead, reminding me he’s everywhere as he wraps me in his warmth. “I’ve got you. You’re here and your kids are good. I’ll make sure you’re here for them.”
I shake my head against his neck and keep crying. He can’t do that. No one can do that.
“You give me some time, I’ll figure this out. Until then, know I’ll keep you safe. Believe in that.”
I fist his shirt, and as much as I don’t want him to be the one to comfort me, he does. It feels cathartic to be held, to melt into him, and even for him to make pledges he can’t live up to, because in the end, no one can promise the gift of security or longevity. Life doesn’t work that way. It’s left up to chance, timing, or, at best, a fluke—whichever way one’s coin falls in the game of life.
Today, my coin landing tails up was a big, fat slap in the face, reminding me these precious tokens in life can be rattled and shaken with no notice.
“Let it out, baby.” Asa’s hand runs up and down my bare back while he strokes my hair, his words rumbling in his chest, vibrating against mine. “You’ll feel better.”
Feeling better is a notion I’m not familiar with. I’m more of a getting through kind of gal, but he wouldn’t know this. I almost feel sorry for him if he thinks he’s the one to best that challenge.
His hands continue their ministrations on my back, my hair, and even my ass as he whispers words that should make anyone feel better. I don’t know how long it takes, but as my breaths even, I fall deeper. The last thing I remember is his touch.
*****
Asa
She finally fell asleep in my arms with my hand tucked into the elastic of her loose pants, resting on the swell of her bare ass. I knew she was holding it in, but I’ve never seen anything like what I just experienced—not even from Emma.
I don’t know how long we lay like this, but her grip on my shirt finally loosens as I continue to stroke her back. My phone in my back pocket has been vibrating against my ass almost continually for the last hour. When I feel like she’s in a deep enough sleep, I roll her to her back and untangle myself.
As I make my way down her staircase without a noise, I flip lights off as I go. It’s fucking crazy to feel safer in the dark, but after working so many years in what can only be considered the depths of hell, it’s how I’ve learned to feel secure. I pull my phone out of my pocket and step out onto Keelie’s construction zone of a porch and make eye contact with Ozzie where he’s standing at his post about twenty yards away. I nod before looking back to my phone and ignore all the texts and emails I have and dial Crew. He can get me up to speed faster than me weeding through all the shit on my phone.
When Crew answers, I hear echoed voices in the background and it’s familiar enough, I know he’s at his camp in one of the sheds.
“You caught up on everything?” he clips.
“No.” I scan the darkness and barely see movement through the forest toward the road on Keelie’s property line. It’s early spring, the trees are just starting to bud, otherwise it would be a wall of green. “I see them working now. They about done?”
“They will be in an hour or two,” he confirms.
Security is my area and even with as much as I did for my house, today proved it’s all shit when someone can drive up in front of it. But not here. Keelie’s got a barrier of forest and space between the road and other properties. Her security system was shit, basically rounded down to a few glass breakage detectors. That’s nothing when her house sits on all this land.
Crew goes on. “I’ll let you know when it’s live. It’ll be added to your feed and if you want, Grady, Carson, and I can add it to ours until shit settles down.”
“Do it.” The more eyes I have on her house the better, even though I plan on us being here every night for the time being. “What else?”
“Jarvis flew in from Columbia today. I brought him up to speed and told him about our friend Raymond Wallace. He doesn’t have another assignment for a few days—he’s gonna poke around.”
Jarvis poking around. That should be interesting.
“Your house is boarded up and new motion detectors have been installed around the perimeter with silent alarms so we don’t scare anyone off. It’d be nice to lure them in if they come back.”
“I still don’t know why someone targeted Levi at school,” I say. “It has to be related. The name of the kid who planted the shit in his locker is Terry Mosher. If Jarvis has time to poke around, give him that name, too. I also want to find Dooley, the guy Raymond Wallace worked for. Our contacts have come up with nothing. See what Jarvis can find there.”
“Done,” he clips.
“I just want information. Don’t let Jarvis go rogue on anyone,” I add.
Crew chuckles into the phone. “Good point.”
“Unless he finds out who almost killed my daughter and Keelie,” I amend, lowering my voice. “Then he can go rogue and dump their bodies in the Potomac.”
“We’re on American soil. Let’s just see what he has to say first.” Crew sighs and the background noise goes quiet. “Everyone good there? Grady was on Emma-duty until you got there today and said she was far from okay.”
“I can’t get a read on Emma on a good day and Keelie was like a fuckin’ robot until she got her kids to bed. She’s asleep now, but it was rough before that.” I run my hand down my face and let out a big breath. “Danielle freaked the fuck out. Making all kinds of demands—she wants the kids in California as soon as tomorrow. No way am I going to let that happen.”
“Damn. She’s always been decent about the kids, maybe she’ll come around. I’ll let you know when the system is up. Ozzie will stay ‘til then. Go take care of your family,” he pauses, and then I hear a smirk in his voice, “and everyone else.”
I shake my head and move back for the house. “I’ll check in tomorrow.”
“Good luck.”
I finish flipping out the lights and make sure her doors are locked before I glance at her couch where she laid out a pillow and blanket for me.
I don’t give it a second thought and turn for her stairs. Taking them two at a time, I check on Emma to make sure she’s asleep before heading straight for Keelie’s room.
She’s rolled and is lying on her stitched-up shoulder. I reach over my head and rip off my long sleeve tee before taking off my socks and jeans. Walking around to the other side of her bed, I pull the covers out from under her and climb in.
When I roll her to me, her eyes blink open in the dark and she squints, taking in my bare chest.
“Don’t worry,” I assure her. “I’m not sneaking into your bed naked, but I am sneaking in.”
“You can’t be in here.” Her voice is husky with sleep and she tries to push up onto her elbow to reason with me. “The kids.”
“I’ll wake up early and leave,” I promise, pulling her to me so she’s lying on her good shoulder.
She shakes her head. “But I’m not used to sleeping with anyone.”
I settle us in her bed with my thigh between her legs. Despite her words, her actions don’t tell me to get the fuck out. By sliding her leg up the outside of my thigh, she’s inviting me to stay.
“I’m not either,” I mutter.
Burrowing her face into her soft pillow next to me, she runs her hands down my chest. “But I won’t be able to sleep.”
I dip my hand up the back of my shirt she’s wearing and feel bare skin. I tuck my hand into the top her panties again and enjoy her ass under my palm. “Then we’ll stay awake together.”
She yawns into my neck. “You need to go to the sofa.”
I put my lips to her forehead and whisper, “Okay.”
She presses into me. “Okay.”
I say nothing and long moments pass when she mumbles against my skin, “I don’t like crying.”
I start to stroke her back again and don’t miss a beat. “I don’t like you crying, either.”
She groans. “Stop it with the right answers. I can’t take it anymore.”
“Maybe you should stop it with the talking and go to sleep then,” I offer.
Her body slumps into mine, another contradiction of her words. “I can’t sleep like this. I’ll get hot and sweaty.”
I put my lips to her ear. “If you think that, then you don’t know hot and sweaty. I’ll show it to you another night, preferably when you haven’t been shot at and just gotten stitches. I’ll give hot and sweaty a new meaning.”
She tips her head back, looks into my eyes, and I feel my name across my own face in her breath. “Asa.”
I lean in to kiss her before saying, “Feels fucking good to kiss you somewhere besides your pantry.”
And for the first time since she left me at the high school this afternoon, those perfect pink lips spread into the smallest of smiles.
It might be small, but I’ll take it.
“Been a long day, baby. Go to sleep.”
Without a word, she exhales and settles.
She might not know it, but I’m not moving to the couch. It’ll be tricky with four kids around, but I’m in her bed.
No fucking way am I leaving now.
*****
Keelie
Light seeps into my eyes and it’s a foreign experience. I never wake after the sun. I roll to my side and wince, pain shooting down my arm, cutting through my muscles.
It all comes back to me.
I push up to an elbow, relieving some of the ache—but not by much—and my stiff body complains.
Pushing my hair out of my face, I look to the clock on my bedside table. What the hell? It’s ten thirty-seven.
I haven’t slept past six. I don’t even need an alarm clock anymore. My body has been trained by toddlers who aren’t toddlers anymore, but still insist on waking before the crack of dawn. If my children don’t wake me that early, Jasmine does. I wonder who got my donkey to keep her mouth shut this long?
I flop to my back and look over at my other pillow, thoroughly mussed and concave from the man who slept in my bed last night.
With almost no clothes on.
And my last thought before falling asleep is that I was hot and sweaty. His legs were itchy on mine and my skin became clammy against his, but I didn’t care. All I could think about was his thigh between my legs and how he wanted to make me hotter and sweatier in a whole different way.
I roll to my good shoulder and pull his pillow to my face. It smells like trees and day-old cologne and testosterone—if testosterone had a smell.
It smells like a man.
My bed smells like a man.
And not just any man. A big, beautiful, rugged man who made me cry, and by doing so, made me feel better on the day his daughter and I were shot at.
I like the smell of Asa in my bed.
But I have no idea where he—or everyone else, for that matter—is.
I groan as I push up, making myself let go of the magical concoction that makes up all the smells of Asa Hollingsworth. Going to my bathroom, I give my teeth a quick brush, take some more meds, and pull my hair up into a high knot.
I’m surprised I don’t look tired. It’s a cold day in hell when I don’t wake an exhausted mess, having to glue myself together just to fake it, pretending I’m remotely close to having my shit together.
I head down the stairs and if there was a church mouse lurking, I’d hear it. My house is eerily quiet. Come to think of it, it’s Saturday. Jimbo works every Saturday and is normally hammering as the sun rises.
When I pass by the kitchen, the sink is piled high with dishes, pots, and pans, but my dishwasher is running. Cleaning is Saylor’s kryptonite and Knox only starts it when he’s asked. This makes me wonder if Asa does dishes.
Just when I was picturing Asa standing at my kitchen sink doing who knows what, movement catches my eye and I look to the window. My breath catches.
Levi and Knox are kicking the old soccer ball back and forth driving the goats crazy. They love to butt it around. Saylor and Emma are sitting on the ground with the three babies climbing all over them, and Asa is standing in the middle of the pasture holding a goat under each arm.
Why is he holding goats? The poor man, they stink.
I head to find my boots so I can figure out what everyone is doing, but when I step into my empty garage, memories of gunshots riddling my minivan fill my head.
Does insurance cover drive-bys? I’ve never thought to look for that clause when buying insurance. Hail—sure. Collision—yes. Cracked windshield—of course. A million bullet holes riddled through my mundane family car?
No way in hell.
My stomach sinks wondering what I’ll do if it isn’t covered. Even if it is covered, I’m sure it will be totaled. It’s an older model and I’ll have to find something new, which probably means a car payment I can’t afford.
I should’ve stayed in bed where I could smell Asa on my pillow and not have to think about real life.
I make my way out to the pasture and Asa sees me first. After he puts the goats down, his hazel eyes meet mine and a brow raises right before his gaze drags the length of my body.
Saylor breaks through my haze when she yells, “Momma! We got all our chores done already. Asa and Levi helped and Emma played with the babies.”
“Your goats are a riot, Ms. Lockhart.” Levi looks over his shoulder after he passes the ball to Knox, but it was intercepted by a sneaky black and white goat.
I don’t have a chance to answer when Asa interrupts. “You sleep good?”
I look back to him and his eyes on me tell the tale—and that tale is all about him making me hot and sweaty.
“I did,” I admit. “Better than I thought I would. I don’t remember the last time I slept that long.”
If the smirk on his face means anything, Asa is pleased with himself.
Just when I was about to ask why he was holding goats and what they’ve been doing all morning, I remember the construction on my house. “Has Jimbo been by? He’s my contractor. He usually starts working early on Saturdays.”
“Yeah, Jimbo.” Asa raises a brow. “He’s an interesting guy. I told him to take the day off. I wanted you to sleep.”
I open my mouth to protest him butting in on my home refurb plans, because it’s already taking forever. I can’t afford to send Jimbo home if he’s willing to work, but before I open my mouth to argue, Jasmine and the goats turn up the volume. I look toward the front of my house and from around the corner, an SUV on steroids appears. It’s tall, wide, long, and all silver—from the paint to the shiny chrome. Asa walks past me, brushing my hip with his fingers for no one else to see. When I look closer, the man I met among the chaos last night, Crew, is driving and Grady is following in another big, black monster of a vehicle.
I jump when Asa whistles, the shrill causing a tingle to crawl up my spine, and points to my driveway where Crew pulls up and parks.
I walk up beside Asa. “What’s everyone doing here so early?”
I don’t get an answer because Crew climbs down and tosses something to Asa. “Sweet ride. Extra set and paperwork are in a folder on the passenger seat.”
Asa catches whatever Crew tossed. “Thanks. I hope it didn’t take too long.”
“Not bad,” Crew says as he moves toward the back of Grady’s vehicle. “Took longer to get there and back.”
“Are they staying?” I lean in and whisper to Asa. I’m still in Asa’s shirt from yesterday, I haven’t put on a bra, and my hair is a rat’s nest.
“Nope,” Asa answers and keeps talking to Crew. “You get what else I needed?”
Grady is still sitting in the black, behemoth Cadillac Escalade. Crew appears from behind it carrying a box and my eyes get big when I see what it is.
I can’t take my eyes off the box and whisper, “You got Saylor a booster seat?”
Crew interrupts and plops the big box down between us. “Maya talked to Addison and Addison talked to me and made me promise to invite you out. She says you need to visit your barrel, but even more, she wants to meet you. You should come by today.”
I look back and forth between Asa and Crew, frowning. “Come where?”
“Whitetail. Bring the kids, there’s plenty for them to do.” He looks to the pasture and shrugs. “We don’t have goats but we have cows. They don’t play soccer though. They just get in your face and want attention.”
“We’ll be there,” Asa promises.
Crew nods and looks back to me. “Addison will be happy. She’s dying to meet the woman who got Asa off his ass.”
I look up to Asa and widen my eyes.
Not a man who wastes time on idle chit-chat, Crew heads to the passenger door of the Escalade and just as fast as they entered, Grady makes a U-turn, leaving us in a small cloud of dust.
I look to Asa and repeat, “You got Saylor a booster seat?”
He crosses his arms and his eyes frown even as his smirk grows into an incredulous smile. “There’s a new car sitting in your driveway and all you see is a booster seat?”
My face falls and I look back to the shiny, silver, steroided monstrosity sitting in front of us. “What do you mean new car?”
He leans into me and I feel his breath on my ear at the same time my kids come running. “Yesterday left you without transportation, and, no offense, I looked like a freak driving your minivan. There’re six of us and if we want to go somewhere at the same time, there’s no point in taking two cars. This fixes all of those issues.”
If my expression is anything similar to how I’m feeling—I’m sure me looking horrified would be the understatement of the century.
“What’s this?” Knox asks.
Saylor, who appears even more miniature than normal next to the SUV, reaches up and with all her might pulls open the back-passenger door to climb in. “It smells funny!”
“You bought this?” The blood drains from my face and all of a sudden, I feel the effects of me picking over my dinner and skipping breakfast. I’m a little woozy.
Asa’s arm comes around my back and he pulls my good shoulder into his side. “Granted it’s not bulletproof, but it does have every safety feature on the market today. I didn’t know what color you’d like, but I noticed your bathroom was gray, so I figured it was a safe bet.”
“What is it?” I breathe.
“Infiniti—the QX80. I told them top of the line, so it better be able to communicate with the International Space Station.”
“It has a TV!” Saylor shouts from inside the car.
Knox sticks his head out the door and corrects his sister. “Two TVs.”
Levi climbs in the driver’s seat and looks to his dad. “Nice.”
“It smells good,” Emma adds as she climbs in, speaking at will for the first time since we got to my house last night.
I shake my head, not knowing what to say or how to argue. He can’t just buy me a car. A booster seat for Saylor, sure, I’ll accept that. Him thinking about a booster seat is sweet, thoughtful, and very dad-ish, which makes my stomach flip again.
But a vehicle?
An enormous one, at that?
No fucking way.
I shake my head and open my mouth to argue, when he gives me a squeeze, speaking first. “Go get ready and get something to eat. We’ll give it a spin.”
“This is ridiculous. I can’t accept this.”
“I figured you’d say that.” He waves his hand like my refusal is a pesky fly he’s shooing away. “Consider it a loaner for now and know you’re doing me the favor of not having to be seen driving a minivan.” His hand travels south, landing low on my hip where he gives me a squeeze. “Go get ready.”
I shake my head and watch all four kids spanning the ages of five to eighteen climb around, checking out my new loaner. I shrug out of Asa’s hold and flop my arms to my side, feeling my stomach grumble.
I need coffee, food, and a shower. I’m not sure what I need most at this point, but that decision seems easier than dealing with Asa and his top of the line Infiniti.
I look up at him and mean it with all my heart when I say, “Thank you for the booster seat.”
“You’re welcome.” A vast grin spreads across his face and he starts to shake with silent laughter when he adds, “For the booster seat.”
Whatever. I’ll thank him for the loaner later—once I’ve had coffee, food, a shower, and after I’ve had the chance to call my insurance to see if drive-bys are covered under my policy.