#  
Copyright © 2017 by Lola StVil

All rights reserved.

Formatting by Dallas Hodge, Everything But The Book

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is dedicated to

Mike & Lo., the ones who taught me about love.

#

My date lifts the butter knife a few inches off the table and takes yet another look at his reflection on its shiny surface. He nods slightly to himself, satisfied that he is as gorgeous now as he was when he last looked—five minutes ago. I knew this date was headed downhill once we sat down and he ordered for me. Veal. I hate veal. I decided not to make a big deal and just order something else. I signal to the waitress for another menu while my date looks at his smile on the surface of the knife, yet again.

Oh please, please let there be cyanide on this dinner menu.

I scour the menu—there's a lovely rosemary rack of lamb, a mouthwatering orange glazed duck, and a divine filet mignon with porcini mushrooms. However, there is no cyanide pill that I can quietly swallow and end my life with, thereby escaping this horror show of a first date.

"How's your veal? It's a specialty here. They only make it for select clientele such as myself," my date says.

"I don't like veal. I tried to tell you that, but—"

"It's not like the others you've had. Here, try it," he says, reaching for my fork. I pull my head back, but he follows me. I reluctantly open my mouth and let him feed me. It tastes awful. It's soft and has a gamey taste to it. I wait for him to look at his refection in the knife again and then I spit the mushy veal into my napkin. As you can tell by now, I'm very classy.

"Roger, my sister tells me that you do a lot of charity work. What are some of the programs you work with?" I ask, determined to find something in common with him.

"Oh, no. I don't do charity. I mean really, people need to stop begging, go out and get a job already, am I right?" he says with a booming laugh.

"Bree told me she met you at the benefit to aid Haiti."

"Yeah, one of clients gave me a ticket, so I had to make an appearance. But other than that—it's not my thing."

"Charity isn't your thing?"

"No, but you know what is my thing?"

Crawling into children's rooms at night to swallow them whole?

"What is your thing?" I ask out loud.

"You," he says with a cocky smirk.

It's all I can do not to roll my eyes. Roger is a real estate mogul. One that my sister said was my type. But the truth is she probably saw his black card and thought, well, it was worth a shot. But the fault lies with me. I knew better than to let my sister, Bree, set me up. This is not only my first date since Danny, it will most likely be my last.

"Winter, stop moping around the house. Danny and you are over. Get out into the world," Bree said. She was right. In the past few months since Danny and I broke up, I happily gave my life over to Ben & Jerry ice cream and Netflix. So I pushed myself. And in order to make sure I left my house, I made my sister change my Netflix password and swear she wouldn't give it to me until I started dating again.

I tune back in to Roger, hoping this date can still be salvaged. He's in the middle of sharing his latest venture—selling a twenty-million-dollar home to the latest Hollywood starlet.

"Her people were so happy with my work, they invited me to her movie premier next weekend. Now, I can't promise you will be my plus one—I mean, I do have two other dates lined up next week—but don't fret, sweetheart, so far, you're in the lead."

Seriously, someone shoot me. Now.

In all fairness, I'm not sure I make the best person on a date. For one thing, I tend to live in my head—a lot. In addition, I'm also kind of a nerd. I suddenly feel my purse vibrating. I don't need to look at it to know who's texting me. My sister has a superpower—she can always tell when my date is about to go up in smoke. That's usually when she texts me.

Bree: "Stop daydreaming and flirt w/ Roger!"

"This guy sucks. This date sucks. Give me my password"

"Only after you have gone on at least a dozen dates," she writes.

"Give it to me now or I will never babysit for you again. You will spend the rest of your life at home—no hotel sex for you and Will."

"Damn you!"

"Password. Now."

"Fine. I-Love-My-Sis."

"Nice try," I text.

"Okay, okay. It's Lily's favorite park," she admits.

I pull up the Netflix app on my cell, key in my niece's info, and suddenly, I'm in.

Yes!

I stand up from the table and prepare to give him my standard sorry-this-won't-work-for-me speech, but he's not even facing me. He's looking over at the waitress and flashing her his best "soap opera smile." She blushes shyly, looks down at the floor and then back up at him. She's giving him her "come do me" look.

Is this guy for real? Screw this. I'm out!

I take my purse, place it on my shoulder, and march towards the door. I'm about to exit when a couple enters the restaurant, holding hands and smiling. It's Danny and his new girlfriend!

Shitshitshitshitshit!

I can't let him see me. I'm not ready. This isn't the right outfit. These shoes don't send the right message. And I can only imagine what state my hair is in.

Okay, Winter Bennett. Keep it together. You are not here alone. You are on a date—a horrible one, but Danny doesn't need to know that. Just go back to the table and look like you are having the time of your life.

I turn back towards the table only to watch what was once Roger's mild flirtation with the waitress progress into the actual exchanging of numbers.

The things I do to watch Stranger Things and Orange Is the New Black! Damn you, Netflix!

Danny and his new super-hot model girlfriend are coming over. She's tall like an Amazon and has long shiny "TV commercial" hair and lips that belong on makeup ads all over the world. Bitch.

Here they come...

No! I have to get out of here. Too late. He's coming my way. A group of diners enter the foyer; I quickly duck behind them. I look around, and the only escape is the men's room.

"Hey, I think that girl over there is—Winter!" Danny says as he gets tries to get a good look at me from behind the crowd. He comes closer, and I run to the men's room. He follows me in.

Seriously?!

I don't stop to think or reason in any way. I just open the window and hurl myself down to the dumpster below. I land in the large metal bin filled with trash headfirst. My arm scrapes against a large glass fragment, causing a painful and bloody gash. I howl in pain as I place my hand over my wound.

I frantically search for my purse, but it's nowhere to be found. I drag myself over to the side of the bin and climb out. A few feet away, two dark figures are carrying on a conversation. The alley is too dark to see them fully but I'm hoping they will see me as I wave my hand and call out, "Hey! Excuse me! Fellas, can I use your phone? I need to call a—"

"Get down!" someone shouts behind me. I turn just in time to see a large figure crash into me and send me flying to the concrete floor. Shots are fired overhead, and the figure orders me to stay down. Everything happens so fast, it's hard to know which came first—the hail of bullets, the shouting, or the sirens. I shut my eyes and bury my face in my hands as if that could somehow stop the bullets from making contact with me.

"Donavan is heading down Sixth Ave., cut him off!" he orders in a deep commanding voice on what sounds like a walkie-talkie.

"On it!" someone replies from the other end.

"What the hell is your problem, lady?" the man demands of me. I open my eyes to curse him out like any true New Yorker would. I mean, yeah, he may have just saved my life but who the hell is he to talk to me like that?

But when I take my hand from my face, I find the most piercing ocean blue eyes looking back at me. His rich dirty dark hair and perfectly sculpted features cause my head to spin. I look past his flawless face and down to his broad shoulders and brawny yet agile body. There's a current of desire surging throughout my body that's so strong I have to close my eyes and remind myself to breathe.

Seriously, this guy has the kind of hotness that makes good girls lose their shit!

Luckily, I'm done with men. And yet, I hear a gasp escape my lips as I take him in.

Steady, girl...

#

I'm already having a crap day. My partner, Decker, and I put a lowlife away last month for dealing drugs outside a junior high school in lower Manhattan, and this morning that bastard got off on a technicality. One of my informants was a no-show at our prearranged meeting, the captain has been on my ass about taking a vacation whether or not I want to, and my sister-in-law is being more of a pain than usual about my love life—or lack thereof.

The point is, my day was a piece of shit already, so by the time I pulled the car into the alley between the warehouse and the restaurant, I was on edge. And my partner knew it. He told me tonight was gonna be an easy night. We know Donavan has been branching out from petty low-level crimes and into the large, more lucrative world of narcotics.

We need to catch him with his contact and try to flip him so we can get the guys he works for. Donavan isn't very bright, and that works in our favor, but he's jumpy and paranoid, so it took weeks to get someone to infiltrate his crew. We finally got an in. And tonight, in this alley, we were supposed to get that bastard once and for all.

My undercover guy was in position, as was my team. I ordered them to stay as alert as possible because Donavan has been getting high off his supply and is extra jumpy. He'd shoot a rat thinking it was someone out to get him. It was important that Donavan feel at ease. So imagine my surprise when some crazy-ass lady jumps out of a window and into the dumpster. Right away Donavan begins to shoot at any and everything.

I race out of the car and push the crazy lady out of the way before he can make holes in her. Donavon takes off and Decker goes after him with sirens on. And now, I'm left in this alley, lying on top of this insane nut job. I'm so fucking pissed; it's all I can do not to lose it. Her face is covered as I yell at her and ask her what the fuck she thinks she's doing. She removes her hands, and I get a clear view of her face.

She has vibrant, sparkling grey eyes that pull me in and make even the thought of looking away painful. Her small frame and delicate features make her look more like a doll than a grown woman. But one look at the slope of her breasts and the curve of her hips lets me know she is all grown up. We lock eyes. I hate her. Mostly.

Aside from ruining my night, she awakened my cock, and damned if it's not seeking her out. What's even more insane is she's fresh from the dumpster, dipped in trash and slime. And yet, I have never seen a woman more beautiful...

Well, beautiful or not, this crazy woman just screwed up an operation that took three months to plan. And she will damn sure pay for it.

Her name is Winter Bennett, and she's stubborn as fuck. She fights tooth and nail not to have to go to the hospital. After the EMT guys check her out, they tell her she's good to go. But that's not gonna happen.

"Get in the car," I order her.

"I don't need a ride," she says dismissively.

"Hey lady, I'm not your fucking driver and this damn sure ain't a car service. I'm taking you down to the station."

"What? You're arresting me?"

"Not yet, but the night is young," I reply as I open the back of the squad car and watch her get in. She's so pissed her face is red, and she's glaring at me like I've just killed her dog or something. I tell one of the uniforms to drive her to the station and I will follow. As the car drives away, "Ms. Charm School" turns and gives me the finger. Decker runs towards me and tell me that Donavan is in the wind. Fuck.

"We have a BOLO on him but for now, he's gone," Decker says.

"Let's send a couple of units to his ex-girl's house in Queens. They're not together anymore but she might know where he's likely to run to."

"I'm already on it. What's the deal with the dumpster diver chick?" he asks.

"I had them take her in."

"Wyatt, you think she's a part of this?"

"In my gut, no. But she's screwed this up for us and I just want to make sure she has nothing to do with this investigation."

"Did she say why she jumped out of a window?"

"No, but I'm guessing it was to get away from someone, a boyfriend maybe."

"Well shit, how bad does he have to be for her to prefer the trash?"

"There are plenty of times I'd pick the trash over facing one of my exes. Hell, leaping into a dumpster might be the smartest thing she's done."

"You're right. I should have picked the dumpster a few times myself. Like on my wedding day. That way, I wouldn't have to deal with the shit storm I'm in now," he says bitterly. I can tell he's thinking about his soon-to-be ex-wife because his face is twisted in anger. Decker is an easy-going guy and a really fucking good cop. But his ex has done some really messed-up shit, and now it's easier to get out of a war-torn country than to get out of his marriage.

"You need help with the nut job?" he asks.

"Nah, I got it. Go home. Get some rest. We'll regroup in the morning."

Decker nods back towards me. "By the way, stay away from her. The hot ones are always the craziest."

***

It's easy to see she doesn't belong in an interrogation room. Her big eyes scan her surrounding with uncertainty. I introduce myself. She remains silent. I study her. She's even more mesmerizing than I first thought. I place a notepad in front of her and ask for her statement. When she's done, she slides it across the table to me.

"You need to let me go. I didn't do anything wrong," she says firmly. Her tone wants to come off as in control and in command. But it's easy to see that behind her eyes, she's panicking. I'm pretty sure she's not involved but I need to know for sure. I also find the thought of letting her walk away from me...unsettling.

"You have no idea who this man is or what he does for a living?" I ask as I place the mugshots of Donavan on the table in front of her.

"No," she says with an attitude.

"And what about these guys?" I ask as I place pictures of Donavan's crew before her. She shakes her head.

"Why did you jump? Did some woman enter the restaurant and find you with her man?"

"What? No!" she says, clearly affronted.

"Then what could have been so bad that you had to jump?"

"If you must know, I was running from an ex. Okay?"

"So, just to be clear, you're single?" I ask before I can stop myself.

"Does that matter?"

"I ask the questions here. Not you."

"You're holding me here against my will. So am I under arrest?"

"No."

"Then I can go."

"Yeah, you can."

"Good," she says as she marches towards the door.

"Hey," I call out.

"What?!"

"Your ex was a dick."

"You don't even know him," she says.

"It's an educated guess."

"The shots must have sounded closer than they were, right? I mean, how close did I come to..." Her voice trails off.

She came very damn close to a bullet in the head. Had I gotten to her a fraction of a second later, we'd be making notifications to her family. But I can't bring myself to say that to her, not seeing the terror in her eyes as tonight's events begin to sink in.

"Donavan is a lousy shot," I lie.

She nods and gives me a small smile but it's not real. She's freaking out. She's just doing it internally. I get it. She turns towards the door and I spot her hands shaking. Crap.

"Hey, I'll take you home."

"No, I'm fine."

"Yeah, I know. Still taking you home."

"I can refuse," she pushes.

"Let's go," I order as I walk towards her. I open the door and wait for her to walk through it.

"You don't have my permission to take me home, Mr. Hunter," she says, gritting her teeth.

"Here's what you need to know about me: I don't ask permission."

#

I try not to watch her perfect ass as she hikes herself up to the front seat of my truck. But it's just not possible. She's so small compared to the large vehicle, it's almost comical. I'm six three, so small cars aren't an option. She catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror and winces at her messy reflection. I don't know why. She's fucking beautiful.

She settles in and places the seat belt around her. It's clear from the way she folds her arms across her chest that she does not appreciate being forced to accept a ride. She pouts and looks straight ahead. I linger there, on her side of the car, just looking at her.

Who are you, Winter Bennett, and why is it so fucking hard to look away from you?

She doesn't say much on the drive to her home. I'd like to know what she's thinking. But I restrict myself to basic questions, just enough to keep her from being swallowed up in the void of all the awful things that must be going on in her head. She tells me she's twenty-eight. I'm thirty-one. Guess I'm old compared to her. She has lived in New York most of her life. Her sister and parents now live in Long Island. She tells me this in a series of short answers. I try not to take it personally. But shit, I am. I'm taking all of this personally.

I want her to talk to me. I want to hear her thoughts. What are her dreams? What does she do for a living? Is it her passion or something to pay the bills? What does her laugh sound like?

What does she like to do when she's not leaping into dumpsters? What do her lips taste like?

It's a half hour later when we enter her apartment. It isn't lavish but it's thoughtfully decorated. The glass coffee table has a large photography book on various colorful birds. She's decorated with warm yet bright colors that make it easy to feel cozy and at home. There's a sketch of a large bird in flight in a dark frame that takes up a large part of her wall. I don't know anything about birds or drawings, but even I have to admit it's impressive.

"Nice place."

"Thanks," she says.

I turn my attention to the doorway and study the locks on her door. Not good. I look over at the locks on her windows and they suck even more. "Your security is a joke. You need to fix it," I inform her.

"Why? Do you think this Donavan guy is coming after me?" she says on high alert.

"No, his number one priority right now is getting as far from the city as he can."

"Oh, okay," she says, relieved.

"I didn't mean to scare you, I just—"

"I am not scared," she says, insulted.

"Okay, fine. You're a rock. Alright?"

"What is your problem?" she demands.

"Me? I'm just trying to make you feel better."

"By telling me my security is bad?"

"It is! Your locks are equivalent to sticking gum on the door. The locks on your window frames would cave in with the slightest push."

"That doesn't make me feel better."

"It will, after you get it fixed."

"Argh, you are so damn..."

"What? I'm so what?"

"A jerk. You're kind of a jerk."

"You women kill me. You don't want the truth no matter how much you say you do."

"Oh, so that's who you are? Mr. Truthful? Great. Then tell me the truth, how close did I come to dying tonight?"

"Fine, if I had gotten out of the car a millisecond later than I did, chunks of your brains would be splattered all over the alley for the rats to feast on!" The minute the words leave my mouth, I know I fucked up—badly. She bursts into tears.

Great job, asshole! I scold myself as I run over to her and hold her. She sobs into my chest and I swear this is the worst I've ever felt. I didn't mean to say what I said or at least not the way it came out. Christ, what the fuck was I thinking?

I take her over to the sofa and have her sit down. I enter her bathroom and turn on the shower, hoping a nice hot shower will make her feel better. While the water runs, I go into the kitchen. I turn on her stove, fill her kettle with water, and place it on the burner. She has like twelve hundred boxes of tea, so I'm thinking that's her thing. So, maybe it will relax her. I go back to the sofa, where she's shaking and looking off in the distance.

"I'm sorry if I scare—made you feel unsettled. It was a fucked-up way to—look, your locks suck. I'm not gonna lie to you about that. But we'll get them fixed. I know a great locksmith, he'll come first thing in the morning. But for now, you don't have to worry about the door or the windows. You don't need them to protect you. You have me." She looks into my eyes. I ache to touch her but I don't dare try. I would be crossing a line neither of us is ready to cross.

"C'mon, let's get you cleaned up," I tell her as I help her stand up. She looks at me with worry and surprise.

"Relax, I didn't mean I would join you," I assure her. She smiles a little. It floods my chest with warmth. Shit. What is happening right now?

She enters the bathroom; I close the door behind her. On my way to the kitchen, I spot her bedroom; the door is slightly ajar. Her pink satin robe is slung over the edge of the bed. I picture myself sliding the silky fabric off her shoulders and exposing her bare breasts. I picture myself suckling on the tips until they're so hard, she cries out ecstasy.

But now is not the time, so I pull her bedroom door closed and make my way to the kettle. I pick a tea flavor, Earl Grey. It's the one she is almost out of, so I'm guessing she drinks it more often than the others. I pour the tea into her large red mug that says "Central Perk" and add a splash of the whiskey I found in one of the cabinets.

While I'm making the tea, I'm trying like hell not to think about her in the shower. I try to push away the image of drops of water traveling down the base of her neck and onto the slope of her breasts. I try with everything that's in me not to think about those same drops of water dripping down the peaks of her pointed nipples and down her stomach. I can see them dissolving into the space between her thighs. I want to burst through that damn door, pin her against the wet shower wall, and have her a hundred different ways, until we damn near die from exhaustion. The only thing stronger than the desire to have her is the need ensure she's really, truly okay.

"Thanks for staying," she says as she emerges from the shower a while later. Her hair is freshly towel dried, and she's wearing a large tee shirt that says "NYC public library." It's grey and hangs just above her knees. She's barely showing any skin but she might as well be naked. It is having the same effect on my cock. This is ridiculous. I need to make sure she's okay and then get the hell out of here before I lose it.

"And thank you for saving my life," she says softly.

"Well, there was another woman a block away that needed my help, but your ass is much nicer," I tease as I hand her the cup of tea.

"So you only rescue good-looking women?" she says as she starts to blow on the surface of the tea.

"NYPD policy. Hot women first," I reply, clearly teasing. She smiles but it quickly fades. She's thinking again. Not good.

"You have to stop that," I reply as I take her over to the sofa.

"Stop what?"

"Overthinking. You had a bad night. It's over," I assure her.

"I'm over the initial shock, it's just...if this were it, if it was really the end, what would that look like for me? My life is...my last act on Earth would be running from my ex and into a dumpster. Not actually a hero's story," she says.

"Are you sure you don't want me to call anyone for you?" I ask. I brought up contacting family hours earlier, but she didn't want her sister to worry. And she knew her parents would come and make a big deal out of everything. She didn't want that.

"No, Bree is a worrier, and I don't want to give her a reason to lose her mind."

"Okay, I get that. Come here," I reply. I'm not sure how she'll react but I take a chance and put my arms around her shoulders. She leans into me and places her head on my chest. It feels way better than it should. I look down at her; she's studying the poster of the bird in flight on the wall across from us.

"You have a thing for birds—is that part of your day job? You study birds?"

"No. I run an outreach program for foster kids. It's based in a community center not far from here," she says, and she goes on to tell me about her program and how being a foster kid until the age of ten affected her. She stops in the middle of her story.

"Go on. What happened after the Bennetts took you in? Were they good to you? Was it easy to fit in? Did you make friends quickly or was it hard?" I ask. She looks up at me, shocked that I have follow-up questions. She continues her story. When she's done, I look over at the drawing of the bird in flight.

"You grew up in foster care. The love of birds makes sense," I conclude.

"What do you mean? I like birds because they are colorful, amazing flyers, and fun to watch."

"Um...okay."

"You think there's another reason?"

"I do."

"I'm listening," she says.

"Birds have internal navigation. No matter where they are, they can find their way back home. If I were a foster kid, I'd spend my life trying to find home too."

"Are you trying to say that I'm some lost damaged chick?" she says, sitting up, suddenly hostile.

"No, Winter, I'm not. I'm saying, no matter how far or how fast a bird can fly, sooner or later, it has to find a place to land..."

#

I must have fallen asleep because when I open my eyes, the sun is beaming through the window and Wyatt is gone. He leaves a note on the coffee table: "Work calls. Get some rest, beautiful." I feel a sharp pang of disappointment when I realize I won't see his face. Hey, maybe it's just hunger pains. I am ravenous in the morning. Yeah, maybe that's it.

Wyatt is true to his word. First thing in the morning, a man comes to install new locks on the doors and the windows. Not long after, I place a call to my sister. After I update her, she tries really hard to contain herself and not come through the phone and strangle me for not calling her last night.

She scolds me like I'm a child who has broken curfew and needs to be punished. I love her to death and I know it comes from a good place, but she really needs to back off. I debated not telling her, but if something like that happened to her, I'd want to know. When I finally convince her that I'm okay, she asks about Danny. She says I was right to freak out and she hates that Danny is now on my mind.

But Danny isn't the one on my mind. The guy I can't stop thinking about is Wyatt. I'm only half listening to my sister because I'm too busy looking over at the sofa where we sat. He held me all night. His hold was firm but tender. I laid my head on his rock-solid chest and felt safe. And when his powerful hand gently stroked my arm, it caused a tingle down my spine unlike anything I ever felt before. When I replay that moment, a fleet of butterflies takes flight in the pit of my belly.

"Bree, I gotta go, or I'll be late for work. You tell Lily I love her."

"Are you one hundred percent sure you're alright?"

"Yeah, I am."

"I can't believe the dumpster part."

"So you can process the gunshots but not the trash?"

"You live in New York City. That's why for years I've told you, you need to move—"

"Yeah, I know. I know. But can we argue about my life choices later?"

She reluctantly agrees and lets me off the hook. I hop in the shower and wait for it to get nice and hot. I stand under the downpour and try wash away all the drama of the past twenty-four hours. But no matter how long I stay in the shower, I can't seem to get Wyatt out of my head. It's not just being held by him that has me acting so nuts, it's something else—he listened. We sat on the sofa and he listened to me. All the guys I've been with before only pretended to listen so they could get back to the part where they talked. But Wyatt was different...

I get out of the shower and remind myself that chances are, Wyatt was just doing his job. I was a hysterical woman that he had no choice but to look after. There was no "spark" like I thought when our eyes met in the alley. It was all in my head. In reality, he's got several women or one amazing woman at home. She's one of those women who looks good in everything and doesn't own any fat pants. Why would she? She never gains any weight. She wears white and never spills anything on it. She buys her lingerie at high-end places like La Perla. And even if by some miracle he was single, I'm not looking for a relationship. After what happened with Danny, I was a fool to even try dating.

"Guys don't know how to love back. I fell for their act once; I won't do it again. I can't," I tell myself as I look in the mirror. It helps. It has renewed my resolve. I don't need a man. I have the kids at the center. I have my friends and family. I need my trusty vibrator and, yes, my Netflix. I take in a deep breath and vow never to think about "Mr. Hot and Sexy" ever again.

I open my closet and decide on a chocolate brown pencil skirt, paired with a fitted ivory silk blouse I got on sale at Macy's. I dab a little perfume on my wrist and put on my heels, a hint of lip gloss, and a little mascara. That's it. I'm ready to go back to normal. No bullets. No drama. And no dating.

***

I pull into the parking lot and grab the box of supplies from the back of my trunk. The city gives our program a yearly stipend, but it's rarely enough for the things we need to do. So I often add my money and get us additional supplies. I usually have a box or two of supplies, but this time I have five boxes thanks to the mega sale at Office Depot.

"Hi, Ms. Bennett! Do you need help?" a little boy says with a thick Spanish accent. His name is Luis Pena. He's nine years old and has ink black hair, warm brown eyes, and a smile that makes it hard to say no whenever he asks for something.

"Yes, thank you, Luis." He takes one of the boxes, and together we head for my office. The hallway is filled with artwork from our kids and trophies from various competitions they have entered. The family across the street adopted Luis over a year ago. He's happier than I've ever seen him. His older brother, Carlos, is sixteen and has yet to find a family. The two of them are so close, it hurt to watch them be separated. Luis's new family couldn't afford to take both boys, but thankfully, after school, Luis takes classes here and he meets up with Carlos.

"Hey, where's your bother? I haven't seen him in class. I don't like him missing college prep."

"He's busy."

"Doing what?"

"Um...stuff," he says, avoiding eye contact.

"Hey, Luis, come here." He comes closer to me.

"Is everything okay with Carlos? Is he having any issues with his new group home?" I ask.

"He has friends. New friends. And they hang out a lot."

"What kind of friends?"

Luis shrugs his shoulders. This neighborhood has its fair share of gangs but Carlos is a good kid and he won't get into anything like that.

"Tell me about his new friends," I push.

"They just hang out on the corner and stuff. He said they were cool. I don't like them much. I think they with this new crew, the Street Kings."

"Carlos knows better than that, right?"

"He said it's not a gang, it's like a club or something."

I try to hide my worry and sound upbeat. I tell Luis to have Carlos come and see me when he comes after school. I thank Luis for his help and I remind him of the time. "School starts in twenty minutes. You better get going," I suggest.

"Ms. Bennett, my school is only two blocks away and my skateboard skills are sick. I'll get there early," he gushes.

"I heard that you're getting pretty good at that thing." I smile.

"Good? No, I'm the best."

"Well I'm glad to hear it. Now, what about Math class? How did the test go last week?"

"Math doesn't get me. See, Ms. Bennett, I'm a complicated man," he says in earnest. I suppress a smile.

"Math doesn't need to 'get you,' you need to get it. And you can. You just need to spend as much time on it as you do on that thing," I reply, pointing to his skateboard.

"I won't need it. I'm gonna be the most richest and most famous skater that ever lived. I won't need math at all."

"Okay, you are now the richest skateboarder on the planet. You get lots of endorsement deals, commercials, and everything."

"Yeah, that's right."

"Here's the thing, Luis: Math will help you with that. Because with all the money you will be making, you need to keep track. Now, you can hire someone to look after your money, but who's gonna look after that guy?"

"Oh," he says as he takes in what I said.

"You can do anything in life, anything you want. I know that about you. But what do I always tell you, Luis?"

"If I am willing to work for it, there's nothing I can't have," he says with a big sigh.

"That's right. If you want to be good at math, go be good at it. That means not skipping our after-school tutoring session with Mrs. Paul."

"You know about that?" he says, shocked.

"Yeah, I do. So after school your butt better be here with your homework out, ready to work."

"Okay, okay. I'll be here. Don't worry I'll get really good at the math stuff so we can hold on to all our money when we get married."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah. I see that for us."

"You want to be my husband?"

"Yeah, but I need time, you know, to see other girls," he says as he runs out of the room and hops on his board. I laugh out loud and shake my head. He's one of my favorites kids.

"Hey, be careful, Luis!" I hear my best friend, Jana, calling out in the hallway. I open the door and hug her. Jana Miller is a walking heart. She has curly dark hair, a curvy figure, and great cheekbones. She loves clubs, short skirts, and flirting. She was away on vacation until this morning, so I didn't even think to call her about last night.

"How was Jamaica?" I ask.

"Yummy!" she says with a mischievous grin. She tells me about her many conquests on the small island. She's always complaining that she needs to lose weight, but she never has trouble getting guys. She's charming, sweet, and cares very much about the center.

"I don't think mangos are supposed to be used like that," I reply as we share a laugh. She nears the end of her third tale of island scandal by saying she can't wait to go back and that I should come with her next time.

"Thanks, but I've had enough adventure in the past few hours. I need peace and quiet."

"What's going on?"

I tell her about yesterday as we unpack the supplies. Unlike my sister, Jana is not a drama queen. She could see that all in all I was okay. However, she can also spot when I am holding something back. She can sniff it out of me like a police dog.

"So...this guy who took you home..." she begins.

Shit. Okay, I can do this. I can stay emotionless as I answer her questions. No big deal.

"Oh, yeah. His name was Wyatt or something. Anyway, he stayed the night to make sure I didn't go totally nuts. Then he went home or wherever. Anyway, I'm good and the drama is over. Yeah, anyway...it's all good now," I reply as I busy myself with tasks around the office. She pauses, raises her eyebrows, and looks over at me with suspicion.

"Winter Madison Bennett, you better stop lying to me."

"I'm not lying."

"Yes you are. When you lie, you say 'anyway' like ten times. You're terrible at lying. So don't try it. What's up?"

"Nothing," I insist. Jana tilts her head to the side and places her hands across her chest. Crap.

"Okay, okay. The guy—the detective was...kind of good looking and kind of not a jerk."

"Oh my God! You had a sexy-ass detective holding you all through the night and you wanted to fuck him!" she says, jumping up and down.

"Shhh! Lower your voice."

"Do you know what this means? You are finally over that shit rag, Danny. You are ready to venture, and Mr. Hottie is going to be your first rebound."

"No, he's not."

"Why not?" she whines.

"I'm done with dating."

"Okay, so you two can fuck. You're not done with fucking, right?"

"I don't want anything to do with Wyatt."

"Oh my God, you like him! Oh, this is too good!"

"Jana, can we get back to work? We have a ton of things to go over before the afternoon sessions begin."

"Okay fine, but this isn't over," she warns.

***

A few hours later, I'm in my office and I hear one of my favorite sounds—a hallway full of chatty kids running to class. Today is our 'Life Skills' class. The kids love it because a professional comes to talk to them and explain how they got their jobs and the skills that were required.

They thought we were just going to have business people come and lecture them, but Jana and I go out of our way to get them interesting speakers that will excite and educate them. We've had firemen come in wearing their uniforms, chefs who made them dessert, and scientists who let them create their own mini science projects at their table.

Today we're supposed to have a class on "Drug prevention." The local precinct was supposed to send a drug prevention officer to us but they have cancelled twice already. So, when I see the look on Jana's face as she comes down the steps, I'm guessing they cancelled a third time.

"You have to be kidding me! Don't they get how important this class is to the kids?" I snap before she can even speak.

"I know. I told them the last time they cancelled that we really need them to come through," Jana replies.

"So the kids are ready to go and, yet again, there is no speaker? That's unacceptable," I reply as I take out my cell and dial the number of the precinct.

"Okay, Winter, don't call with an attitude. If you do they won't send anyone over here."

"Well it's not like they are sending anyone here anyway. Argh! What the hell is their problem?" I bark.

"Maybe the speaker is just late," Jana suggests.

"What kind of jerk would keep a class full of kids waiting?" I demand.

"The kind of jerk who didn't know about it until twenty minutes ago," someone says behind me. I turn towards the entrance and find Wyatt standing in the doorway. My jaw drops. My pulse races and I marvel at how good he looks in daylight. Damn him.

He looks so damn good, every inch of me is aching to touch him. He's even hotter than I remember. He's not wearing anything special, just dark jeans, a grey tee shirt, a leather jacket, and boots. But he's the finest thing I've seen in all my life. My heart leaps into my mouth. I can't recall what I was mad about or even what Jana and I were talking about.

"It's...you," I reply, utterly beside myself.

"Hi. How's your arm? Does it hurt? Are you okay? I thought I'd hear from you," he says warmly as he gazes into my eyes. He has this way of turning off the whole world and only paying attention to me. It's as if I'm the only one he sees. I've never had that before. It's a powerful thing. It's also scary for me, since it only makes me want him more.

"You're a detective. You don't do this kind of stuff," I reply, still in a haze.

"Normally, no. But the guy who does this is a friend. He needed me to cover for him, and I owed him one," Wyatt says. His voice. I forgot how deep and rich it was. It awakens parts of me that have no business being awake. Jana clears her throat and holds out her hand. She's so damn happy; it's a wonder she's not dancing.

"So...you're Wyatt. Wow. Just...wow. I'm Jana," she says, sounding like she's auditioning for a feature porn flick.

He takes her hand, never once breaking eye contact with me. The urge to fall into his arms is so strong that I have to place my hands on the wall behind me so I won't give in. He studies me like I'm the last piece of a puzzle he's been trying to solve. I'd love it if he played with me like a puzzle. If he laid his powerful hands all over me. I'd whimper as he bent and molded me to fit into place.

"We should probably get started," Jana says as she studies both of us. I guess she realized the two of us were never going to willingly pull away from each other's gaze.

We enter the assembly room, the largest room in the center. All the kids, of various ages, have gathered awaiting today's speaker.

If Wyatt is nervous, he's not showing it. His walk to the front of the class is confident and certain. When he addresses the students, he does so with a strong, commanding voice that scares the hell out of the kids but in a good way. His tone is firm and adamant. He's unlike any other speaker we've had.

He tells the kids about the horrors of drug use, but it's more like a conversation than a lecture. He curses. I hate that. But the kids love it. They feel connected with him. I can tell because long after the bell rings, the kids are still seated. They ask follow-up questions, and he's honest with them.

He tells them about some of the bloody, messy, and sad things he's seen in his line of work. And how he believes they can avoid that if they really want to. He gives it to them straight, no bullshit. (Which is exactly how he put it.) When he's done, the whole class cheers.

Joy, a cutie pie no more than five years old, raises her hand. When Wyatt picks her, she gives him her bright, toothless smile. "Do you have a girlfriend?" she says as she giggles. Her classmates join her. Before he can reply, I stand up and tell the kids to thank Wyatt for coming. I did that because the afterschool is over and they need to get home and also because there's a very real chance that he does have a girl. And I just didn't want to hear him say "yes."

#

Normally my staff of twelve is in a hurry to get home when the workday is over. Yet for some reason, ten of my staff members, all of whom happen to be women, find reasons to linger. It's like nothing I have seen before. The women who normally rush to their cars or head for the train station suddenly find themselves with a little extra time today. They surround Wyatt a few at a time and strike up a conversation, and some of the quieter women linger in the doorway of their classroom, licking their lips as they gaze at Wyatt.

"You were so good with them today, Mr. Hunter," one of my English teachers, Macy Mores, says as she bats her eyes at him. She has a great figure and a pixie haircut. She makes sure he notices by arching her back slightly and sticking out a hip to accentuate her hourglass curves.

"Call me Wyatt, and thanks."

"I bet your kids just love having you around," she replies, damn near purring.

Oh c'mon!

"Macy, did you need something?" I ask in an official tone.

"Oh yeah, I really need something," she says, pulling in her lower lip and biting it.

"And what is it that you need?" My sharp tone brings her back to her senses.

"Oh, um...I need more textbooks. The three new kids don't have any," she says, blushing.

"It's in my office," I reply. She walks towards the office and passes by Wyatt in the process. She gazes into his eyes and slowly enters the office, using the best "look at my ass" strut I have ever seen.

"Wyatt, you're still here, great!" Jana says. Oh crap. Please don't let her do what I think she's about to do.

"You know I was supposed to help Winnie get some stuff out of the basement, but I hurt my arm earlier. Can you help her with that?" she says with a sweet smile.

I'm gonna kill her.

"Yeah, I'd love to help 'Winnie,'" he says with a big grin. One of the teachers raises her hand to volunteer her services. Jana takes her hand down and dares her to join Wyatt and me. Meanwhile, Wyatt loves how uncomfortable I am. He follows me down the steps and into the basement. There are stacks of books and classroom supplies around us. In the corner is a large box too heavy for me to carry by myself.

"Listen, you don't have to help—I can get the janitor to help in the morning," I assure him.

"Are you a bagel person or a pastry kind of girl?" he asks.

"Um, what?"

"This morning, I was gonna go out and get you breakfast since you had nothing in the house—by the way, how do you have nothing in the house to eat? Anyway, I was gonna do bagels but I wasn't sure if you wanted like a donut or...in the end I thought I'd get both but then my cell rang and I had to go."

"Oh, it's fine. It's not a big deal."

"It is to me. I wanted to have breakfast with you," he says.

"You've done enough, really. And you were great with the kids earlier. Aside from the cursing, which they didn't really need to hear," I mumble.

"People curse, and if that's all those kids ever have to deal with, they're really lucky."

"Anyway, thanks again. And I'm sorry I ruined your operation."

He sighs deeply as he looks over at me. I've been keeping a safe distance since we got to the basement and now he comes closer, about to close the gap. He places an arm on the wall on either side of my head, essentially blocking me in. There is a very good chance my heart will beat right out of my chest. I don't want him coming closer but I dread the thought of him leaving any space between us.

I remember his powerful embrace and I would love to feel that again. Yet if he touches me, there may very well be a "Winter Bennett" shaped hole in the hall as I run away. His body is so close to mine, there's no room for daylight. I look into his face. It's perfect. There's a wild, reckless look in his eyes, like he's a breath away from ravaging me. Yet, there's also an intense sincerity behind his eyes. It grips me.

"Thank you for sending the locksmith this morning. It was really nice of you," I add, not knowing what else to say. He sighs and hangs his head in frustration.

"Christ, I wanna kiss you so fucking bad..." he says once his head comes back up.

"We don't know each other. You could have a girlfriend."

"I don't."

"How is that even possible?"

"I don't know, how can a woman as gorgeous, funny, and crazy as you be single?"

"I'm not gorgeous."

"I'm gonna have to disagree with you," he says.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm cute. And pretty on some days, but I'm not...no one has ever said I was..."

"Well, I'm saying it." He leans in even closer. He's about to kiss me, and I can't stop it. I don't want to stop it. But I have no doubt that this is a bad idea. He places his hand under my chin and gently brings me to him. But before our lips touch, someone enters the basement.

"Winter, I can't find the textbooks." Macy says, stomping down the steps. That bitch knows very well where the textbooks are. And although I can't stand her at this moment, I'm relieved she came in and broke the spell Wyatt cast on me. I quickly point out the boxes that need to be brought up and run up the steps to help Ms. "No shame" Mores.

***

It takes about an hour to get everyone out of the building and lock up. I thought Wyatt would have been called away by then. But when I get out to my car, there he is, waiting for me. I'm guessing Jana and her crazy self thought she'd try again to get us to be alone.

He looks me over. His smoldering gaze is doing things to me that my best vibrator couldn't do. His arms are folded across his chest. He looks down at me with an intense genuine longing that makes me ache with desire. I inhale his intoxicating scent of crisp autumn and musk.

Please, let me walk out of this without giving in.

"Thank you for last night—for saving my life," I say, trying to keep my voice steady.

"You already thanked me," he says softly as he studies my lips.

"I did?"

"Yeah."

I look away and form an "O" with my lips and let out a soft sigh to release some of the pent-up tension between us. It doesn't help. The longer I'm near him, the stronger the urge to wrap my legs around him.

"Can you stop doing that?' he asks.

"Doing what?"

"Licking your lips like that. It's doing some really crazy things to me."

"Like what?" I ask before I can stop myself.

"Like making it hard to focus on asking you out."

"You want us to go out?"

"For starters."

"Wyatt...last night you save my life and—"

"Don't thank me again. Just say you'll have dinner with me later tonight."

"I don't want to see you later," I reply in a whisper.

He's taken aback. The disappointment in his eyes makes me feel like I'm dying. He looks past me, as if he needs a moment to regroup.

"Okay, what's going on? Talk to me, babe," he says.

Babe...

It's so easy to fall into this. It's easy to let the sound of him calling me babe take me on a whirlwind ride. But what do I do when it's over? When the love is gone and only pain remains?

"Wyatt—"

"There's something between us. I don't know what it is exactly but I know you feel it. I know you feel it. So, what's the issue?"

"I don't know you."

"That's the whole point of going out, to change that."

"Wyatt, I don't want to date you—or anyone. My date last night was the first one in a year. It was also my last."

"Winter, are you saying you don't want to see what this could be between us?"

"Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying."

#

I did the right thing, didn't I?

I have been asking myself that question since my conversation with Wyatt in the parking lot five days ago. I am trying to block out all thoughts of him, and by now, I should be successful at it but I'm not. I'll be doing laundry and randomly think about him. Yesterday, I was in the grocery store and I thought I spotted him, only to be disappointed when it wasn't him. The worst part is at night when I picture him crawling into bed with another woman, one who doesn't have as much baggage as I do.

Today marks a week since I last saw Wyatt. And I vow to myself that today will be different. I will not speculate on what or whom he's doing. So, when I put my key in the door, I don't look over to the sofa where he once sat. Instead I wrap up whatever work I didn't get done in the office, binge watch shows on Netflix, and order Thai food.

My phone rings. It's him. He input his cell number in my phone the night we met, in case I needed anything. I don't pick up. It's hard to listen to it ringing, knowing he's on the other end. I want to talk to him. I want to know how his week has been. He seems so serious; did anything make him smile or laugh today? Did he find Donavan? He's a detective, so I'm guessing danger is part of his everyday life, but is he being careful? Is he okay? Is he alone tonight?

After six rings, the phone goes silent. Deflated, I turn my attention back to House of Cards. But then, my phone makes a chirping sound, which lets me know that unlike the other times, Wyatt has left me a voicemail. I leap off my sofa like a cartoon character whose butt has been set on fire.

My hands are shaking and my mouth is dry. I can't reach the "play" button on the screen fast enough. Soon, his deep baritone voice is filling my ear and resonating throughout my body.

"I've been thinking about you. I don't know how long I can...I really fucking miss you."

I replay it six times and each time brings me closer to returning his call. I tell myself the only thing to do is to delete the voicemail. I touch the screen and my cell asks if I'm sure I want to delete...

No! Hell no! I want to replay. Replay!

And I do. I replay it again. How many more times? I won't say, I don't want you to lose respect for me. Soon the recording is less about how wonderful it feels to be missed and more about how pathetic I am that I can't even bring myself to return his call. I turn off the TV and get ready for bed. I crawl under the covers and close my eyes. But I know the night will be long and sleep won't come easily.

***

I managed to get about an hour and a half worth of sleep. So, this morning, I make my way to the biggest cup of coffee I can find. I pull into the parking lot and find my favorite helper waiting for me.

"Hi, Luis! Why are you wearing such a light jacket? Where's your coat?" I ask.

"Ms. Bennett, it's not even winter yet."

"Yes, but it's only fifty-two today. And the rest of the week will get even cooler. Did your mother let you leave the house with that jacket?" I ask.

"Well..."

"Luis."

"Okay, she gave me a heavier coat but it's hard to move around in it. I gotta be free, man," he says, sounding more like an old hippie than a nine-year-old.

"I know it's been nice out lately, but it's October in New York. You know better."

"Okay, I'll put on the jacket my mom gave me," he says reluctantly. I can't help but squeal with excitement. When a foster kid gets officially adopted, that means they have a permanent house to live in. But when they call their foster partners "Mom" and "Dad," that means they have a home. And Luis was so worried that his foster parents were going to change their mind about adopting, he wouldn't even consider calling them that. But it's a year later and he's finally comfortable saying "Mom."

"Ms. Bennett, stop," he says, blushing. He knows exactly why I'm partially jumping up and down.

"Sorry," I reply, trying to suppress my glee. "I almost forgot," I say as I reach into the second cup holder in my car and hand him the cup of chocolate I got for him at Starbucks.

"Thanks, Ms. Bennett," he says as he walks me to the front of the center.

"You're welcome. Luis, did you see Carlos?"

"Yeah, he came by last night."

"Did you tell him I need to see him?"

"Yeah, he said he's really busy."

"Too busy for the center?"

"Yeah," he says as his eyes fill with worry. I kneel down so that Luis and I are at eye level.

"What's going on with Carlos and his new friends?" I ask.

"They want him to drop out of school and hang with them. He said they can give him a job and hook him up. He said he'll give me some of his money, but I don't think I want it," he says sadly.

"When is the next time you'll see him Carlos?"

"I'm not sure."

"I need you to come to my office with me and give me a list of some of the places Carlos hangs out. I need to talk to him. I tried calling but it just goes to voicemail."

"Okay. He won't be mad at me for talking to you, right?"

"No, I'm sure he won't. Let's go. And then go home and get the heavier jacket your mom told you to wear, okay?"

"Okay. Ms. Bennett?"

"Yes?"

"Will my brother ever find a home like I did?"

I place his little face between my hands and look into his warm eyes. "Your brother is going to find a home. It's just gonna take time. But don't worry. He'll find a home."

God, please don't let me be a liar today...

***

I collect the information Luis gives me, and the rest of the day passes by in a blur of meetings, classes, and paperwork. I'm so caught up in work, when Jana enters my office, I don't even hear her come in.

"Are you ready?" she asks.

"For what?" I ask, glued to the budget sheet I'm looking over.

"Are you serious? The Halloween party."

Crap. Every year we join up with other outreach programs and throw a party for the staff and their guests. Normally it's a holiday party, but this year, the person in charge is Jana and she wanted to do it on Halloween instead. Since the space was booked up on the actual night of Halloween, we are doing it a week ahead.

"It completely slipped my mind."

"How is that possible? I've been planning this for weeks," she reminds me.

"I know. I guess I had a lot of things on my mind. Sorry."

"Did you call him?" she asks as she takes a seat in front of the desk.

"No."

"What? Even after that message he left you? What is wrong with you?"

"I don't want to talk about him."

"Winter, he's not Danny. Just because Danny did you wrong doesn't mean the next guy will too."

"I know that."

"Then what the hell? Call Mr. Hotness and put it on him. You haven't had sex in a year. That's illegal in some countries."

"What country?"

"United States of Jana," she jokes as she raises her eyebrows suggestively. I roll my eyes and go back to the work before me.

"Sweetie, I get that's it's hard but it's unhealthy to lock yourself up like that. Think about calling him. You don't have to say yes to going out. Just agree to have a simple conversation. Damn," she says.

"Why is this so important to you, Jana?"

"I miss my friend."

"I'm right here."

"No, you're off in lala land. Living the life of a ninety-year-old woman. TV and warm tea. In fact, I know a few grannys that have better love lives than you do."

"Fine, I'll go to the party."

"Yes, you will. You have two hours before the party; you will go and get a slutty outfit that will make me proud," she says, running out before I change my mind.

***

I don't know how I let the party slip out of my mind. Maybe it's because the weather has been so mild up until now, it didn't feel like fall. Or maybe I am putting so much thought into not thinking about a certain guy that everything else takes a back seat. I should have noticed much sooner that Carlos was missing after-school class. I should have remembered this party, and I should have checked back in with my sister. I am determined to get things back on track.

I text my sister and make plans with her for girl's night. I then find my sluttiest costume from a few years back—a sexy bunny—and put it on. It's a strapless, pink sequined body-hugging romper with a white bunny tail and lace-up back. I complete the outfit with the bunny-ear headband. I want Jana to be proud.

I enter the bar where the party is being held. It's packed. Jana did a great job with the decorations and the food. Everyone is in costume and having fun. I try to catch her eye through the large crowd but she can't see me. I make my way towards her as I greet my staff. I finally find her and pull her in close.

"You totally nailed this, Jana!"

"Thanks! I'm so glad you came. I thought you were gonna flake out," she shouts above the music.

"Not a chance. I know how hard you've worked, and given the budget, you did a really nice job."

"Well, I'm glad you like it. Now, I have something to tell you but I need you to promise not to be mad."

"Oh no! You didn't set me up on a date, did you? Please tell me you didn't!" I reply, knowing full well that stuff is right up her alley.

"No, I didn't set you up on a blind date," she assures me.

"Phew, okay. Good."

"I did, however, invite a certain someone—on the off chance you might show up," she says as she signals towards the entrance.

Wyatt...

#

Ten minutes earlier

I sit in the parking lot of the bar where the Halloween party is being held. I have yet to go inside. But the fact that I'm at a place where grown-ass people dress in costume tells me I've got it so bad for the woman, I'm way past the danger zone. Winter said she wasn't interested. That should be enough. And normally it is, but this situation is anything but normal.

I think Winter wants me. That shit is not ego. I'm a detective, and any detective worth a damn can tell when someone is turned on. And even if I didn't have the job I do, as a man I know when a woman is excited. I've watched her body react to mine in a way that partially spells out arousal. When we were in the basement of the community center, I could see her pupils dilating, she was breathing rapidly, and she moistened her lips while slightly arching her back.

When we were in the parking lot later that day and she said she didn't want to see where things could go with the two of us, I will admit, that shit threw me. I thought she was playing a game. I fucking hate games. I hate people who play them and people who go along with them. That shit is not me. If I want a woman, I tell her. She takes it or leaves it. She usually takes it. And once in a while she won't. Fine.

Standing in the parking lot, hearing her tell me she's tried dating and that she's unwilling to try again, I realized she wasn't playing any games. She wasn't saying "no" to see how long it would take for me to be on bended knee like some dumb bastard in a chick flick. This woman was genuinely scared that she might like me. I mean, seriously terrified.

A part of me thinks I should leave her alone and let some other guy come and try to break her out of her self-imposed prison. But then the thought of that other guy holding her makes me want to rip his fucking arms off. She's mine.

There's no one else like her. She's nuts but smart as hell. She's impulsive enough to jump into a dumpster but selfless enough to dedicate her entire career to children. Unlike a lot of women I've met, she doesn't go out of her way to try to be sexy, she just is. I'd get a bigger thrill seeing her exposed shoulder than I would seeing most women naked.

Good, so get the hell out of the truck and go get her.

It's not that simple. This woman is working really hard to run from what this could be. She might not even let me in. And if by some chance I got in and we started going out, what then? I've never been one for relationships. I've been upfront with the women in my past about that. My focus is work. I won't lie to them and say I see a future, when I don't. But something tells me I won't have that conversation with Winter. I want to know her—in all the ways I've never cared to explore another woman before.

I stayed away from her although it took all the willpower I had. I ended up parked in front of her door more nights than I care to say out loud. I just wanted to make sure she got home okay. I wanted to see her face and know that she was alive. And in a crazy way, knowing she existed meant that there was light somewhere in this godforsaken world.

I know she got my calls. I know she thinks I wanted to talk to her, and I did. But I also knew she wasn't done trying to run from us. And that the only way I could get some kind of relief from the agony of staying away from her was to listen to her voice on the voicemail.

"Hi! It's Winter. Leave a message and I'll do my best to call you back, if my rigorous Netflix queue allows. Enjoy your day!"

The last time I called, I ended up leaving a message. I hadn't planned on it but shit, I missed her to the point where it was leave a message or go over there in person and break down her door. I want to know all about her life. I want to know why she's so afraid to date or even entertain a conversation with me. But on the other hand, that might mean hearing about her past boyfriends, and that's not something I want to do.

Jana asked for my number before I left the school a few days back. I looked at her as if she was out of her mind but she quickly explained that she was on my side and wanted to get Winter out of the house and back into the dating scene. Jana is wild as hell, but I could tell by her tone she was sincerely trying to help her friend.

I gave her my info and my address—she insisted on the address because she said she wanted to make sure I didn't have a live-in girlfriend somewhere. She noted that if she had my address, I'd forever live in fear that she'd pop in and bust me. That chick is all kinds of crazy, but I love that she cares enough about Winter to threaten a cop.

When she called me and invited me to the party, I didn't hesitate, because by then, my desire to engage Winter had outgrown all reason and logic. A few days ago, my partner, Decker, and I were on a stakeout and after a long pause in conversation, he'd shouted, "For Christ's sake, go see her already!" According to him even my silences were screaming "Winter." And now, I'm here in the damn parking lot, fearing that coming to see her here might push her even further away.

I get out of the truck and head inside the bar; I see her before she sees me. She's wearing the sexiest bunny costume I've ever seen. I don't like it. Well, actually I do like it; I like that shit—a lot. But I know how guys are and I know the vile things they are thinking. I want to cover her up. I don't want them eye fucking my girl.

My girl...you two have barely had a conversation.

I let my issue with the costume drop when I see her look around the room and smile at Jana. Damn that smile of hers. It makes it all the way across the room, over to the entrance where I am. I'm not sure how I missed her entering the bar but then I spot a second entrance over on the other side. I'm hoping she'll see me and fight the urge to flee. That was the whole point of giving her some space, give her time to get used to the idea she's wanted by a guy who isn't out to hurt her.

I am about to make my way towards her but before I do, our eyes meet. Okay, this is the moment. She can stay and talk to me or she can give in to her fear and try to hide from me. I make it halfway across the room and so far she's not running for the door.

This is it, Winnie, you got this.

I make my way to her and I'm relieved to find her still there, standing near the snacks. God, she's working so hard to fight her desire to run. I can see it in her eyes. She's like a kid in the middle of a storm, scared to death that the wind will sweep her up and away. I'd like to be her shelter, but I can't if she doesn't let me. I know it's best if I am just casual with her, but fuck it. I pull her into me and hold her. Shit, this feels good. Holding her against me makes everything in my life right as fucking rain.

What is this woman doing to me?

It takes a few seconds, but eventually, she allows herself to hug me back. She lingers. I want more. She wants more. So naturally, she pulls away.

Argh!

"I called," I tell her as if she didn't already know.

"I've been busy. Work," she says, trying to avoid my eyes.

Hell no, I want to see those babies. They are my favorite pair of eyes. The grey is so subtle yet so intense. The compassion and generosity that embodies her is reflected in those eyes and I can't bear the thought of her pulling them away from me. So when she does, I follow her gaze so that I won't lose her eyes: my light.

"So, Jana invited you?" she says.

"Yeah, is that okay?"

"No..." she mumbles before she can catch herself.

"Oh...okay," I reply.

"Oh no, I meant, it's fine that she did. It's more than fine," she insists.

"That's not what you actually said. You said 'no' as in 'no, it's not okay that you are here."

"It's not okay but that's only because I've been..."

"Avoiding me?"

"Yeah," she says, deflated. She's so fucking cute when she's silently scolding herself for no reason.

"Winter, let's just start over, okay?"

"What do you mean?"

"I'm just some guy who came to a Halloween party, with no costume, in hopes of meeting someone nice," I offer.

"Yeah, that sounds simple," she says, taking a deep breath.

"It is. And I enter the room, looking for that nice person. Oh, what do you know, I found a nice woman only a few feet away. If I ask her for a drink, I hope she says yes," I reply as I get lost in her eyes.

"Yes, I'll have a drink with you. I just need to go to the ladies' room and I'll be right back," she says.

"I'll be right here," I assure her.

The most important thing I learned in all my years of training is to trust my gut—no matter what. It's saved my life more than a few times. And when I watch Winter and her sexy gleaming pink getup walk away from me, my gut tells me something is off.

I play out my hunch. I order two beers, grab a fistful of junk food from the bar, and race out of the exit door that leads to the back of the bar.

I find her car a few yards from the lot. I place the snacks on the roof of the car, hold the beers in my hand, and wait. And sure enough, a few minutes later, I see a sexy pink bunny scurry out of the bar and make a run for her getaway car.

The lamppost she's parked under in fairly dim, so at first she doesn't see me leaning on the front of her car with the beers in my hand. But once she gets close enough, she stops dead in her tracks. I hold both beers out and give her a choice:

"So, what'll it be, babe? Light or regular?"

#

I hate him. I hate that he knows what I'm gonna do even before I do. And I hate that seeing him standing there brings me joy and dread all at once. Fuck! It's one thing for him to catch me trying to sneak out, it's another for him to be leaning on my car with a cocky, sexy smirk. I'm at a loss for words for several moments. He hands me my choice of beers. I take the light one and stand next to him over by the car.

"How did you know?" I ask as I bring the bottle to my lips.

"Gut feeling."

"Well, congratulations," I reply.

"Thank you, what do I win?"

"What do you want?" I ask. I know that's a bad question, but it's too late to take it back.

"You know what I want," he says suggestively.

"Look, I am not—"

"Talk," he says quickly.

"What?"

"My prize for busting you and for saving your life—and yes, I'm throwing that in too—is that we have a conversation."

"Fine, about what?"

"Babe, anything. I want to know you. Is that so bad?"

"Not on the surface, no," I mumble.

"Let me guess, you were involved with some guy and things were awful. Now you hate any and all men. Is that it?" he asks.

"Something like that."

"Well, you can put your hatred of men aside for a few minutes—don't worry, it will keep."

"I don't hate men."

He looks at me with disbelief in his eyes.

"I don't," I reply.

"Let's hope not," he mumbles to himself as he reaches onto the roof of my car and displays his handful of treats. And right away I spot my favorite seasonal candy, Candy Corn.

"I love these damn things," I reply as I pluck a small packet out from his hand.

"I grabbed that by mistake. No one likes Candy Corn. It's the fruitcake of the Halloween candy world," he informs me.

"See, Candy Corn gets a bad rap. All the glamor and glory go to the mini Kit Kat bar. And that's just not fair," I protest.

"Have you ever had a Kit Kat? Do you have any idea how good they are?" he demands.

"I'm sorry but your taste in Halloween candy is uninspired, and frankly, a little common," I inform him as I pop a handful of Candy Corn into my mouth.

"Is that judgment?" Wyatt asks, doing a great job at pretending to be genuinely offended.

"Sorry, man, I'm just calling it like I see it."

"Just what I would expect from a girl who loves Candy Corn," he says, shaking his head in dismay.

"It could be worse, I could be a 'Raisinet' person," I add.

"Or even more freighting, a 'peanut chew' lover," he says.

"Argh! I hate those things," I reply as we share a laugh. "When we were kids, my mom would make Bree and I hand out Halloween candy. But things were tight at home, we couldn't afford the good stuff. So she made us give out generic candy. And trust me, it's better not to give anything at all."

"Oh no! Were you one of those houses that gave out candy buttons and lemon heads?"

"I'm truly sorry for anyone whose childhood my family may have ruined," I reply with my hand on my heart.

"It's okay, babe. My family was worse," he assures me.

"What could be worse than generic candy?" I challenge.

"Fruit."

"No!"

"Yup. Every year," he says.

"Oh come here, you poor boy," I tease as I sympathetically stroke his hair. It started out as a silly joke between us but by the third time I run my fingers through his hair, my heart is racing. The airy, lighthearted mood gives way to a new air: one of yearning. I stroke his hair one last time and promise myself I will stop, and I do. But my fingers lingered far too long and now I want to touch more of him.

He's my abyss: my dark, sexy abyss. I'm standing on the edge looking down into a sweet void that could lead me to new worlds of pleasure and possibilities. I want to fall in. But this abyss could also take me to darker worlds, worlds I've been to before. The worlds fill every inch of you with sadness, regret, and self-doubt. Like the world Danny threw me into when I kissed him. When I dared to love him.

I'm fighting myself in a way I have never done before. All I want is to run to and run away from Wyatt, all at the same time. Which side is going to win? Desire will win out. I know this for a fact. I want to feel his lips against mine. I want the sweet nectar regardless of how poisonous the fruit. But that doesn't stop fear of impending doom from ripping me apart. I can't kiss him but I need to kiss him. My internal voices rage against each other.

Please give in, Winnie.

Please back away, Winnie.

He leans in slowly and places his hands on my waist, causing an erotic sensation between my legs that guarantees I'm going to give in. And yet, once again, I am truly, truly terrified.

His kiss will give me life again.

His kiss will be the start of the end.

He leans in, even closer; our lips are about to touch. But at the last moment, he reaches past my lips and goes to whisper in my ear.

"It's okay, baby, we have all the time in the world..."

***

My cock is not okay with the decision that I made not to kiss her. In fact, no part of my body is okay with it except the part that I try to listen to the most—my heart. Christ, I wanted to taste her succulent lips and part them with my tongue. Even if we didn't make it to bed, standing there holding her in my arms and drinking from her lips would have been more than enough to send me into orbit.

But it's clear she wasn't ready. I could see the turbulence in her eyes and although a very large part of her wanted the kiss to happen, some part of her was hesitating. And I don't want our first kiss to be laced with any doubts or hesitations. Also, I couldn't stand the thought that after we kissed she'd regret it. Or worse, she'd run away. So after I whisper in her ear, I reach over and kiss her temple.

My baby needs time, and I'm gonna give it to her. Just hope I can handle the wait...

Although I don't get to kiss her, I get something equally good—I get to spend more time with her. I thought after the kiss didn't happen she'd get shy and retreat, but that didn't happen. In fact it was just the opposite. She asked if I was hungry for some real food. I said yes. So she suggests we go eat at one of her favorite deli places—Katz Deli. It's a famous New York deli located on the Lower East side. Katz has been around since the 1800s. They are known for their towering roast beef and pastrami sandwiches. They weight over a pound and are easily as big as a human head.

We get there, and order. Soon, we are seated before the skyscraper of meat and toppings. We look at each other and laugh because we both know that this is not the way adults are supposed to eat. We have loaded up on beer, candy, and now towers of fatty meats. I tell her that we are officially frat boys.

"I have never seen a woman able to take on the pastrami they serve here," I challenge.

"Well get ready, Mr. Hunter, it's about to happen," she says gleefully. Okay, I really thought she was kidding, but to her credit, she inhaled nearly all of her sandwich. I had to rush through my corn beef to keep up with her. When we are done, we down some iced tea, then split a slice of cheesecake. And by the time we get to the coffee, we are beyond stuffed. We talk about Man Vs. Food, a TV show about a guy who travels the world eating crazy large portions of food. It turns out she loves that show, just like I do.

When the waiter puts the check on the table, I reach out to get it. She places her hand on top of mine to stop me.

"No, it's on me," she says.

"Yeah, not gonna happen," I promise her.

"What? Why? I was the one who invited you."

"You're not paying for anything when you're with me," I inform her as I take out my card and sign the check.

"Wow, I've never been flattered and insulted at the same time."

"I have to pay."

"Why, because I'm the woman?"

"You can turn it any way you like. I'm paying—every time."

"You are such an adorable sexist."

"I heard the words 'adorable' and 'sex', all good things in my book."

She laughs despite herself and thanks me for the meal. Once we start talking about yet another crazy food show, I remark that my sister was a huge fan of cooking shows.

"Her favorite was the one where the guy will eat anything," I recall.

"Oh, yeah! That one is great but it freaks me out sometimes. I didn't know you had siblings. How many?"

"Five boys, including me. One girl. I'm the youngest. All of us are single except for my oldest brother."

"And where does your sister fit in?"

"She was the youngest. Her name is Rose...or was. She died a few years back—leukemia."

"I'm sorry. I didn't know. Argh! Sorry I brought it up."

"Hey, it's alright. You couldn't have known."

"Okay. But I'm going to stick to asking you about TV shows," she vows.

"It's alright. You can ask me about Rose," I reply.

"Really? Okay, well, what was she like?"

"She loved horses, chocolate, and had an extensive Justin Bieber playlist she thought we didn't know about. The only thing she loved better than the above was food and travel."

"How long ago did she..."

"Three years ago. In the beginning, when she first got sick, we got her this huge cookbook called The World on a Plate because she was obsessed with food and travel. In fact, she wanted to be a superstar chef. She'd make us—by that I mean me—attempt one dish from each country in the book. We thought she'd get better by the time we hit the pastries of Zimbabwe. But she died somewhere around the stews of Jamaica. There was a small fire in the house, and the cookbook was destroyed. It's out of print now, so..."

"Again, I'm very sorry."

"I know. Thank you. It was hardest on my mom, you know? For a long time we thought she might not make it back to us. She went to this dark place and nothing we did could get her back."

"Is she doing any better now?" Winter asks as she places her hand on top of mine. I'm taken aback by just how good it feels to have her hand in mine.

"Yeah, thanks to my dad. He was able to help her find her way back."

"How long have your parents been married?"

"Forty years."

"Wow, that's a really long time."

"Yeah, what about your parents?" I ask.

"They got a divorce about a year after adopting me. They were married for about twelve before that.

"It goes to show couples don't last," she says sadly.

I intertwine my fingers with hers and gaze into her bright eyes. "Winnie, it's true some couples don't last but some do..."

#

It's almost midnight by the time we get her car back from the bar. She says she's okay heading home, but what kind of date would I be if I didn't see her to her door? She's uneasy with the word "date." I know because of the small flash of panic that appeared after I said it. I can't help but smile to myself but in the end, I let her off the hook by changing the subject. We're now standing a few feet from the entrance of her building. She's hidden her sexy costume under her jacket but the light from the lamppost catches a glimpse and causes her to sparkle.

"I had a really good time," she says.

"Me too."

"Sorry I tried to ditch you earlier," she says awkwardly.

"Wait, was that you?"

"Ha, ha. It was a stupid thing to do."

"Well I met you diving in a dumpster, so my expectations were low," I tease.

"Shut up!" She laughs as she playfully places her hand on my chest and pushes me away.

"I would ask you in but..."

"Yeah, I get it. It's okay. I gotta get to work anyway."

"Work? It's almost 1 a.m."

"We're doing surveillance and my shift is coming up in an hour," I reply, looking at my watch.

"Really? Who are you running surveillance on? Is it Donavan? Did you find out where he is?" she asks. She studies the expression on my face and then nods her head. "I'm guessing you can't tell me."

"It's an ongoing operation, so I can't go into details. But we hope to wrap this up by tonight."

"So, what made you want to be a cop?" she asks.

"I wanted my job to matter and to help the community in some small way. I know it's a really boring answer."

"Yes but it's also a good one," she replies. "If you're working tonight, shouldn't you have slept in?"

"Maybe, but I knew if I didn't make the effort to go tonight, you'd keep avoiding my calls."

"I wanted to call you back," she admits.

"I know."

"I must be the most ridiculous girl you've ever taken to dinner," she says as she frowns and bites her lower lip.

"You are the most interesting and the most engaging. Really, I had a great time. My only worry is that once I let you walk into your apartment, you'll go upstairs and think of all the reasons to hide up there."

"You think I'll barricade myself in my apartment?"

"Yes, I do."

"But if I did, you'd come and find me, right?" she says.

"Hell yeah, I would."

"Glad to hear it. Hey, I meant to ask you, do you know anything about the Street Kings?" she says.

"Yeah, there a new gang, but what they lack in experience they make up for in brute force. They are really trying to make a name for themselves. They have a high number of new recruits, and they don't care what it takes to expand."

"Oh." Fear and dread spread across her face as she looks towards the floor, lost in thought.

"What's this about? Do you know someone in that gang?"

"Well, I'm not sure yet."

"What do you mean you're not sure? Winter, why are asking about the Street Kings?"

"It's nothing, I just heard about them and thought I'd ask," she says with a brand-new smile.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, it's nothing," she says, shrugging her shoulders. I'd like to ask a follow-up question, but the fact is, I need to go now or I will be late. Decker must be tired as fuck right about now and I need to relieve him.

"I hate to end here, but I have to go," I say as I take her hand.

"It's okay. I understand," she assures me. She's nervous again. I'm guessing it's because now is the part when we kiss, or so it would normally go. I kiss her on the forehead and tell her I will call her when I get off work. She's beaming like a fucking angel. My angel.

***

I think I floated into work this morning. I didn't use my feet at all to get me around. I suddenly had wings and everything was perfect. I can't believe I had that much fun last night. I also can't believe I stuffed my face in front of a guy. But I didn't feel awkward or uncomfortable. It's the best I've felt in a long time.

The moment I get to my office and sit down, Jana sneaks into my office with two cups of coffee and a thousand questions. I'm pretty sure she was waiting for me by her classroom, peeking out to see when I would be coming down the hallway. Stalker. She places the coffee cups on the table and takes a seat as if she's just paid for tickets to see the greatest show on Earth.

"Okay, so I looked out the window and saw the two of you in the parking lot talking. You looked trashy yet sexy with your bunny tail, and he looked extra fuckable in his 'I'm too manly to wear a costume' and ardent stare. Take it from there; okay, go!" she says excitedly. I run down the events of last night to her. She listens as if she will later be quizzed on the story. When I'm done, she's beaming with pride.

"I knew it! I knew this would work. You know, I try to be humble about the whole thing but the fact is, I have a gift," she says as she studies her manicure.

"I did have a good time, and yeah you may have a gift of some kind. But it was wrong not to tell me he'd be there," I remind her.

"If I did, would you have come?"

"Probably not," I admit.

"And hence why I do what I do," she says with a big smile.

"Jana, it was so much fun and I can't even remember all the things we said to each other. It was just...effortless."

"That's great, honey. I'm so glad. Now, I love a 'suspend the kiss' moment like any other romance hound, but when are you gonna kiss him, on your next date? Or the one after? Hey, don't make him wait past three dates, that's just wrong," she insists.

"We didn't really talk about another date. He might not call."

"Are you kidding? Wyatt is on you like the first BBQ stain of the summer on a white dress. The situation is real and it's serious."

"I love that he was okay with us not kissing."

"What? No! He wasn't okay with it but he put up with it because he sees how fucking fantastic you are and he's willing to wait to get him some. I admire his patience. I mean, he could have any woman he wants and he's willing to wait to kiss you. That means he's special."

"Last night I dreamed about him."

"Really, how was he in the dream?"

"So good. I mean, Jana, I couldn't contain myself."

"That's the way it's supposed to be. So stop getting wild in your dreams and do a little of that in real life."

"God knows I wanted to last night."

"Well then call him and tell him that."

"What? No, I can't do that."

"Why not? Pick up your cell and call. Tell him you are ready to ride all the rides in the park," she says as she moves her hips suggestively.

"I can't do that." I laugh as I sip on the hot coffee she brought me. A smile forms on my face as I picture what his reaction would be if I called and said what Jana wanted me to say.

"He went out of his way, Winnie. Now, it's your turn. C'mon, call and say something...dirty."

"Well, maybe."

"Good, I'll write down what you should say," she says as she picks up a pen and begins to scribble on a notepad.

"I can think of something dirty to say on my own," I lie.

"Really? Like what?" she challenges. Damn her.

"I'll say, 'I want you.'"

"That's it?"

"Yeah, that's pretty dirty."

"You need a lot of work," she teases.

"Okay, I'll say, 'Hi, Wyatt, I had a thrilling adventure with you in my head last night. I really enjoyed it.'"

"You can't say that."

"It sounds courteous and satisfied," I object.

"It sounds like you're sending a thank you card to someone who gave you a blender."

"I like blenders."

"Keep it simple. Tell him you want to grind on him until his eyeballs pop out of his head."

"Classy."

"Isn't it though?" she says as we share a laugh. When the laughter dies down, she looks back at me with a rare serious gaze.

"Winnie, you go as fast or as slow as you want. I just want you to be happy. And ever since you met Wyatt, you've been...glowing. Don't push that feeling away, okay?"

"What if I can't get past what happened with Danny? What if I'm too damaged—even for a guy like Wyatt?"

***

It's a few hours later and the center is just about to close. All I need to do is sign off on some forms and I can get home. I thought about calling Wyatt but thought he must be tired, so why bother him. Okay, okay, I was afraid that calling him would seem needy. I was also afraid that I'd hear his voice and want to see him right away. I can't do that because after hearing how bad these new friends of Carlos's really are, I have to talk to him. This morning Luis told me he'd most likely see Carlos today and that he'd make him see me.

When Wyatt asked me about my interest in the Street Kings, I didn't get into details because Carlos is my responsibility. I have known that kid for years and if he needs help, I will make sure he gets it. And besides, I get the feeling Wyatt would tell me to stay away from that whole situation and the fact is I just can't. I look at my watch. It's half past six. I get up and look through the shades. There's no sign of Carlos.

On an impulse, I pick up my cell and call Wyatt. I quickly hang up, mid ring. Shit. Why did I do that? I should have just talked or not called at all. What the hell? Okay, okay, maybe he didn't even hear—my cell rings.

Yup, God hates me.

"Hey, did you just call me? Is everything okay?" Wyatt asks. God, I love his deep voice.

"Did I? Sorry, I must have touched it by mistake. Everything's fine. How um...how did last night go?"

"Went really well. We got what we needed."

"Good. What time did you get home—not that I'm trying to monitor your every move or anything. I just thought I'd ask or whatever," I reply, quickly feeling like a fool with every passing moment. He clears his throat in order to suppress a laugh but I catch it.

"I had to cover for my partner, Decker. I just got home about ten minutes ago," he says.

"Wow, you must be exhausted."

"I am. I'm gonna get some sleep but how about breakfast tomorrow?"

"Um...I'm not sure..."

"Great, I will see you in front of your building at seven," he says, not taking no for an answer. I can't help but smile.

"Oh and babe—it's never wrong to want to know where I am. I'm good with most things," he says just before he hangs up. I have a smile on my face that's so goofy Jana would make fun of me for weeks on end. I'm glad she's nowhere around.

I resign myself to the fact that Luis couldn't get his brother to come see me. I was trying to avoid having to look for him. But I fear that's just what I'll have to do. I gather my things and head out the door. On the other side is a tall lanky kid with familiar brown eyes, round cheeks, and a stoic expression.

"Carlos! Please come in," I say as I step out of the way so he can enter.

"I already know what you're going to say, and I don't care if you don't like my crew, I'm still joining them—no matter what."

#

Carlos crosses his arms in front of him and stands before me, absolute in his resolve to ruin his life. I know better than to shout at a kid because it makes it easier for them to tune out. And shouting never helps anything. But right now, this kid is really pushing it.

"Have I ever been rude to you, Carlos?" I demand. He shrugs his shoulders and looks away.

"Look at me. Have I ever been rude to you?" I ask again.

"No," he mumbles.

"Then can I get some of that courtesy back, please?"

"Yeah," he grumbles.

"Good. Let's start again. Hi, Carlos."

"Hi, Ms. Bennett."

"I need to talk to you. Come inside and take a seat. And remember who you are talking to. I'm not your pal. Do you understand me?"

"Yes."

"Much better. Now sit your butt in that chair and tell me why you are working so hard to mess up your life." He enters the office and reluctantly sits down.

"You look so thin, are you eating?" I ask.

"Yeah."

"Candy bars don't count," I remind him.

"I eat other stuff," he says.

"Here, it's your favorite," I reply as I hand him the chunky PB&J sandwich I snatched from the snack basket for the lower grades. It always amuses me how a kid that's fourteen could still love PB&J, but he does. It's Carlos's deep dark secret. We usually keep a few for him when they're available. He unwraps the sandwich, takes a big bite, and opens the carton of juice I handed him. My heart aches thinking of a sweet kid like him getting caught up in a gang.

"I know something's going on, Carlos, and I want to help but I can't if you don't talk to me."

"It's nothing."

"That can't be true. If it was nothing you wouldn't be skipping school and afterschool. And you certainly wouldn't talk to me the way you did when you first got here. And yes, I am still waiting for an apology."

"Sorry," he says.

"For what?"

"Sorry for being rude before."

"Thank you. I appreciate that. Now please help me understand why one of my favorite artists is throwing his life away."

"I'm not an artist."

"You draw better than most professionals I know. That's why I commissioned you to draw the bird for me—you're so talented. I really thought you enjoyed that project."

"I did. At first I didn't like birds or whatever but when you made me read about them for research, it was kind of cool. I like the bird that farts to find its food," he says, smiling despite himself.

"That's the Bassian thrushes. And yes, that is something you boys would find funny," I tease.

"And the birds that yawn in a group and shit," he says, laughing.

"Excuse me?"

"I meant to say stuff. Stuff," he replies.

"Thank you. I'm glad you had fun. You made a fantastic piece of art. And you've won dozens of contests. Your history grades were up and your math scores were getting better. What happened?"

"My boy Tony and I used to hang and sh—stuff. But then a few weeks ago, he aged out of foster care. He said he wished he'd gotten with a crew way back then 'cause he'd have a place to go. I don't want that to be me. So, I getting with a crew right now."

"I'm sorry about your friend. I know it sucks to age out of the system."

"You don't know, Ms. Bennett. You got adopted. That's not gonna happen to me."

"You don't know that."

"Why do you keep lying to me?"

"I'm not. You're a wonderful kid and you deserve a home."

"So does Tony, but that's not gonna happen."

"It happened for Luis. And it was close to happening with you. They wanted to take you in, they just couldn't afford it."

"Yeah, it's always something, but in the end, I'm alone. But with this crew, I got friends."

"You are not alone. And they aren't your friends. These guys are violent and nothing good can come from hanging around them."

"They got my back."

"What they have is a direct path to prison. You cannot follow them."

"You don't remember what it was like to be given away because it was a long time ago. But I do. And now someone is taking me in. Someone is standing up for me. The Street Kings represent for me. Anybody come at me, they got my back. They are my family."

"What about Luis? Do you know how much pain you are causing him?"

"He'll be okay. He's with a foster family."

"He's worried about you. He loves you. And I do too. You know that. Please stop this before things get out of hand," I beg.

"No. I've got the one thing the foster care could never get me—family—and I'm not giving that up."

"Well I'm not giving up on you, so you better get used to my face because I will hound you to the ends of this earth until you stop hanging out with them."

"Yeah, whatever, I gotta go."

"No you don't. Your teachers faxed me a list of the homework you owe them," I reply as I pull out a file from the top drawer of a cabinet.

"I can't. I gotta meet up with someone."

"Well the Street Thugs are gonna have to take a raincheck."

"Street Kings," he corrects me.

"Carlos, you are smarter than this. These guys aren't the kings of anything. C'mon, you have been around gangs all your life and yet you never joined one. And the reason is because deep down you know it's wrong."

"I don't have time for this, Ms. Bennett. They gonna hate waiting on me. I gotta go."

"No, you don't. What you have to go do is catch up on the schoolwork you've been missing," I reply.

"No, I don't want to," he says, taking his things and heading for the door.

"Carlos Miguel Pena, did I say you could leave? Get your butt back in that chair. Now."

"Fine, but you can't keep me here, that's false imprisonment."

"Write to congressmen. Now, get to work," I reply as I hand him a stack of papers. He rolls his eyes and sighs deeply. But in the end he does as I ask. I know there's a good kid still in there, somewhere...

***

It takes a few hours for Carlos to get caught up on the work he's missed. It really isn't about the work, I just need to keep him away from those thugs even if it's only for a few hours. When he's done with his work, I drive him back to the group home and watch him sign in. He's pissed that I made him miss his hang-out time with his so-called friends. After he signs in, he runs up to his room, taking the steps three at a time.

"He's a handful," the group director says as she watches him run away. Her name is Tammy and while she's good with the kids, I wish she was more on it. She should have alerted his teachers that he was in trouble. But to be fair, she has a lot of kids to look after. Sometimes I really hate the system. It's so easy for these kids to be overlooked. It's just so frustrating. How am I going to help this kid?

I haven't had dinner yet but I'm so damn tired, I don't care. I just want to take a hot shower and get into bed with Wyatt. I mean, get into bed alone, by myself. It's clear that the long day is making me say and think crazy thoughts. But once I step out of the elevator and into the hall of my apartment, it's clear to me that rest is not something I'm going to get. My sister, Bree, is sitting down in front of my door with my five-year-old niece asleep on her lap.

"What are you guys doing here? Is everything okay?" I ask as I rush over.

Bree has green eyes, a figure I would die for, and red hair. It's easy to see that we are not biologically related. Her daughter, Lily, has the same bright red hair and green eyes.

"We're fine. I was in town for some boring fundraiser and I thought I'd surprise you but I forgot my key, so I couldn't get in," Bree says.

"You mean you lost your key—again."

"Don't harp on that, Winnie. Just enjoy that Lily and I stopped by even though you have been ignoring us."

"Very subtle, Bree," I reply as I gently pick up my niece from the floor and hand the keys to Bree. She opens the door, and I place Lily on the sofa.

"How long have you guys been waiting? Why didn't you call me? I could have come home early," I say.

"We've only been here for a little while. I figured you'd be home soon. It's not like you have a social life."

Argh!

"Can you hug me before you stab me with the 'blade of judgment'?" I ask as we embrace. She goes into my fridge and helps herself to a bottle of water.

"I'm just saying, it would help if you get out more," she says.

"I have been out. I just got back."

"Out doing work stuff. I'm taking about dating."

"Well, I just had one of those yesterday," I reply.

"WHAT!" She shouts so loudly she wakes up Lily.

She looks up with a groggy expression and tangled hair. "Pizza!" she says sleepily.

"Tomorrow, honey. Go back to sleep," Bree says, running over to stroke her child's hair.

"Win-Win," she calls out to me just before her eyes close again. Hearing her little voice always makes me melt.

"Hi, Butter!" I whisper back.

I've called her that since the time we found her standing in front of the fridge giving herself a bath by using butter as soap. She was two years old, and it's still the cutest thing I've seen to date. My sister comes back towards me and threatens my life if I don't give her details. When I'm done, she doesn't say anything. She just chews on her lower lip and mumbles "Humph" to herself. That's classic Bree for "Winter is making a mistake."

I should have kept my damn mouth shut. I am in no mood to have the conversation she wants to have. The one where she tells me she knows what's best for me and I don't. So, I decide to skip ahead to a new subject and hope that will be the end of it.

"So, where's Will tonight?" I ask.

"He's out of town, conference in Spokane, Illinois," she says. Will is one of the top executives at H&H Marketing Solutions. He makes enough money that Bree doesn't have to work. She enjoys being a stay at home mom most of the time. Will rarely comes down to the city or to family functions because he's always working. The two of them have been married for seven years now. He's a little...boring for my taste, but he's good to my sister and he's great with Lily.

"When is he coming back?" I ask.

"Not until Monday."

"Does that mean I'm on babysitting duty this weekend?" I ask.

"No, you're off the hook. Will's mom is staying with us for a few days. I was gonna have Lily stay with her tonight but she wanted to see you. She's worried about you."

"Really?" I ask suspiciously.

"Okay, I'm worried. I just worry about you," she admits.

"Bree, there's no need to worry."

"Are you sure about that?" she asks. Sweet Jesus, here we go.

"Bree, can we just get down to it, please? Say what you have to say."

"What? Me? I don't have anything to say," she lies. I close my eyes and silently count down to the inevitable Bree "Monologue of caution."

Five...four...three...two...one...

"I just don't understand how you could go out with a guy like that after Danny," she says as she rearranges the items on my kitchen counter.

"Oh my God, how is it you always know the perfectly wrong thing to say?" I demand, trying to keep my cool.

"He wants to go out with you and doesn't take no for an answer. He wants to get his way no matter what, so he follows you to a party."

"That's not at all what happened," I reply.

"Danny was always trying to control you. He twisted your mind and warped your brain. In the end, we almost lost you. And now you want to go out with a guy who's a cop, a cop! Do you know what they do all day? Give orders. Cops are professional bullies."

"Since when were you against cops?" I ask.

"Hey, Will and I gave ten thousand dollars to the Police Athletic League last year. We love cops. I just don't think you should be dating one."

"We're not dating, okay? We're just...it doesn't even matter. He's nothing like Danny and you have no right to imply that he is."

"You had your eyes closed the whole time you dated Danny. You were about to marry him and he blew up your life from the inside out. Is that what you want to happen again?"

"Bree, you're the one who encouraged me to go out and date," I remind her.

"A nice mild-mannered real estate guy."

"Roger was an asshole!"

"He was polished," she says.

"You mean he was rich."

"Yeah, so what's wrong with that?" she demands.

"Nothing, but he was also self-centered and arrogant."

"Unlike this Wyatt guy, who forced you to go out with him?"

"He didn't force me."

"Really? Because according to your story, you tried to flee from him and he stalked you."

"Oh my God, why do I talk to you? Why? You turn and twist everything around," I snap as I run my fingers through my hair.

"Don't get mad at me because I'm trying to stop you from making yet another mistake."

"So if I'm not dating who you want, when you want, it's automatically a mistake?"

"I'm just looking out for you, all right? And this Wyatt guy sounds like a bad idea. He carries a gun. He won't take no for an answer, and he forced you to hang out with him," she pleads.

"Damn it, Bree. For the last time, he didn't force me, I wanted to be with him."

"You wanted to be with Danny. Look how that turned out."

"I can't believe you just said that. I can't..." I start pacing around the kitchen, getting angrier with each step. Does that get her to stop talking? Not a chance in hell. Not my sister.

"I'm sorry but I am just looking out for you. You need to be with someone more like Will. Traditional. Hard working. Financially stable."

"You see? This is why I don't call you often. It's always a fight with you. You want to control everything I do," I reply.

"I am not the one who ruined your life. I'm the one who helped you pick the pieces back up, and I think I should have a say in who you let in your life because that person is in my life too."

"You know what, forget it. I'm not talking to you about this anymore," I inform her.

"Ever since we were kids you had to go off and make your own way. You couldn't just follow a safe path. You got a degree in education and you waste it on a job that barely pays. And now, you are ready to fall hard and fast for some loser—"

"YOU ARE BEING SUCH A BITCH RIGHT NOW!" I belt out before I can stop myself. There's an urgent knock on the door. I go over to the door and look in the peephole. Wyatt. Shit. I turn back to my sister and angrily wag my finger at her.

"Stay here," I order. I open the door and quickly step out into the hallway, closing the door behind me.

"Hey, what's going on? Who are you shouting at?" he asks.

"My sister, it's fine—what are you doing here?"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to come by without calling but I woke up and couldn't get back to bed. Thought I'd stop by and see if you could use some company," he says, his voice dripping with concern.

"That's nice, but I already have company."

"Winter, what the fuck is going on? Why do you look so pissed off? Why are you and your sister fighting?"

"It's nothing—I gotta go." He gently takes my arm and walks me away from my door, down towards the elevator.

"Hey, you can talk to me. No matter what it is, you can talk to me," he says with earnestness that causes a lump in my throat.

He's nothing like Danny.

I reach out to him and put a stray hair back into place. God, he's like a wonderful dream I want to fall into. Knowing that I could spend all night looking into his eyes, I pull myself away.

"I'll call you." I quickly go inside before he can object. I close the door behind me.

Standing a few feet from the door is my now very awake niece with an empty jar in her hand.

"Win-Win, you said a bad word. Put a dollar in the jar and no I-O-Us!"

#

It takes about half an hour or so, but Lily finally is ready for bed again. I give her and her mom my bedroom and sleep on the sofa. Bree says she's happy to stay out in the living room, but since I called her a bitch and did it within earshot of her only child, the least I can do is give her the comfy bed.

Once they are both tucked in, I set up some blankets and pillows on the sofa and try to block out the horrible night I just had. It's crazy how sometimes the people that make life the hardest for you are the ones that say they love you.

I'm not saying my sister is a bad person. She has done so much for me and has made me feel like family since the first day I came into their house. But I really didn't need her coming over, uninvited, to judge me. And I have enough doubts about my situation with Wyatt, I don't need help in that area. There's no use in talking to her—it feels like she'll never get it. I'll always be the little sister she feels she has to protect. My cell vibrates and I look at the screen.

"You okay over there? Or do I need to come over with lights and sirens?" Wyatt texts.

"My sister and I haven't killed each other yet, but the night is young," I reply.

"What were you two fighting about?"

"Oh, you know, the usual."

"The delicate state of nuclear arms agreement as it pertains to North Korea?" he says.

"And pie."

"Let me guess, she's more of a blueberry girl and you're one for strawberry?"

"Yes, it's a deep-seated issue that's divided our family for years."

"Seriously, bright eyes, what was that shouting match about?" he pushes. I don't reply because I don't want to get into it and I also don't want to lie to him.

"Do you want me to call you?" He texts again after an unsettling amount of time has passed by.

"Thanks, but I don't want to wake them up, texting is better. Although I can't stay long. Work in the morning."

"I get the feeling breakfast is off."

"Yeah..."

"*Knows he's a grown man and can't send sad face emoji so he sucks it up and sends the dark and brooding "K"*"

"Aw, well here you go :( "

"Thx! When do I get to see you?"

"Lunch doesn't look any better. Work promises to take over."

"Is this a new version of you ditching me to run for the hills? If it is, I admire the footwork. But I can think of so many other ways for you to spend your energy," he says.

"No, I want to meet with you—and I will. How about dinner?" I ask.

"Great, I'll make it for you. My place at eight," he says, sending me his address.

"You cook?"

"I told you my sister, Rose, used to force me to go through a cookbook with her."

"Yes, but I didn't know you were good at it," I admit.

"I might not be. For all we know tomorrow night could be your last meal," he warns.

"I'll risk it to see you," I text back. He doesn't reply for a few minutes, which feels like hours because it's the first time I ever really intimated that I like him—out loud anyway.

"Are you there?" I ask.

"Yeah, I was just waiting to see if you would take back your last text. It sounded like you were saying you kind of...like me."

"Well, I do. So, there. Wait, is that okay?" I ask, losing my nerve.

"Gorgeous, it's more than okay."

"Good night Wyatt."

"Good night babe."

***

It's my turn to bring the coffee for my morning chat fest with Jana. I usually try to be good and get us small cups so that we're not overdoing it on the caffeine. Jana hates that. I once brought us tea instead of coffee and she threatened my life. So now I stick to coffee but today I need an extra boost, so I get us each a large with an extra shot. I place them on the table along with two whole wheat toasted and buttered bagels.

"You only get a large when something's up, so start talking," she says as she adds sugar to her coffee.

"Before we get to personal life drama stuff, I need a favor. I want to make sure Carlos is going to class today. Do you still hang out with that truancy officer?" I ask.

"Mr. Goodbody? Hell yeah."

"Good, can you get him to stop by the group home? Before I dropped Carlos off yesterday, I warned him that I would have eyes on him to make sure he went to school today."

"I heard about his new friends. I'll help in any way I can," she says as she texts her hookup.

"Do you think that will be enough to get him to back off this gang thing?" she asks, sounding as worried as I feel.

"No. I'll go by his school when it ends, pick him up, and drive him here. I don't want to let him out of my sight."

"Winnie, you know you can't keep an eye on him forever, right?"

"Yeah, I know. I just need to keep him out of trouble long enough to get some sense into him. I wish I could help him get adopted. I really do. It's just so hard to place teens. Watching his little brother find a home hit him really hard. He's trying to act like it doesn't matter but it does. I know that's what's making him act up."

"Okay, my friend will go by the group home and do a courtesy check. It's on his route anyway," she says after checking the text on her cell.

"Thanks, Jana."

"Sure! Now, talk to me about last night. Why are we swimming in a pool of coffee? Not that I mind," she says, then takes a bite of her bagel and sips from her cup. I tell her what happened and how Wyatt came just as our argument was heating up.

"Damn, that's crazy. Bree could fuck up a wet dream," she concludes.

"It does seem to be a talent of hers," I admit.

"How did it go this morning with you two? Did she go for round two?" she asks.

"We were polite. She's right, though; I haven't been in touch like I should. Butter lost another tooth!"

"Aw, she's racking it up with the tooth fairy."

"I know. She proudly stated this morning that another one of her teeth is starting to shake."

"Knowing her she's trying to push that sucker out as fast as she can."

"Yes! It's all Bree can do to stop her from getting a hammer and knocking them out for herself."

"I like a girl with a plan." Jana laughs.

"Me too. They went back home. I wish we'd had a better time. Bree can be fun, just not when it comes to my love life. It makes sense I guess."

"Don't worry about Bree. She has the perfect life with the perfect 'cookie cutter' hubby. She doesn't get to judge you. That's my job," she says with a big grin.

"Jana, she warned me about Danny, like she's warning me now."

"That's different. She had already met Danny. She hasn't even laid eyes on Wyatt. And I also warned you about Danny. Now, do you see me warning you about Wyatt?"

"No."

"Exactly. And another thing, even if Wyatt was like Danny—which he's not—you're not the same woman you used to be. You wouldn't put up with that crap now because you know what I know."

"And what is that?"

"You're fucking awesome. True story."

***

I park my car across the street from Carlos's school, twenty minutes before the last bell rings. I want to make sure I don't miss him coming out. Thanks to Jana, we ensured that Carlos did in fact get to class. Now, I just need to get him to the center and at least I can breathe easy knowing that for today he's safe.

While I wait for Carlos, my mind drifts. It takes me to the place I seem to go a lot recently—to Wyatt, or should I say his bed. It makes no damn sense that he could be both an expertly chiseled monument to hotness and a good guy. I get why Bree thinks it might be too good to be true. I think the same thing sometimes. But when we're talking and hanging out, it doesn't seem so impossible.

I have never looked forward to anything the way I'm looking forward to meeting up with him for dinner. In truth, there's a good chance his cooking will suck and we'll end up ordering pizza, but I couldn't care less. I get to see him. When I'm anywhere near him, I lose far more control than I'm comfortable with, but he makes me want to surrender to him, if not for his "proof that God is real" body, then for his large heart.

Hmm, I wonder if he's large everywhere...

I'm taken out of my thoughts by the sound of kids laughing and talking as they burst though the double doors of the school. I try hard to spot Carlos in the sea of faces. It takes a while but I finally find him. I beep my horn but he doesn't turn to me. He's talking to a group of guys, just outside the school gate. They are somewhere in their early twenties with multiple neck and face tattoos. I get out of the car and run over to him. When he sees it's me, he's in shock. He rolls his eyes in frustration and groans.

"Aw, c'mon, Ms. Bennett," he pleads.

"Get in the car," I reply.

"Who the fuck is this bitch?" a guy with a tattoo of a skull on his face asks.

"She's nobody," he says. He then faces me and begs, "Ms. Bennett, go. I got this."

"Yeah, Ms. Bennett, get the fuck outta here," "Skull" guy says mockingly. I glare at him but don't address him.

"Carlos, let's go," I order.

"Nah, he gonna hang with us," a guy says, smiling so I can see all the bling he's had placed on the front row of his mouth.

"I'll catch up with you later, okay?" Carlos tells me.

"Look, get in the car or I will scream so loud, I will bring every cop to this block. Is that what your friends want?" I demand, knowing that it's all a bluff and I could very well get my ass kicked in broad daylight.

"Bitch, you know who you talk'n to?" one of them says as he steps from behind the "bling" guy and towers over me.

"Yo, Murder, it's cool. I got this," Carlos replies.

"You best get this bitch out of my face," Murder warns.

"Gladly. Carlos, car. Now," I demand.

"Okay, okay. I'm going." I'm not sure if he's afraid of me or what his crew will do to me; either way, he starts to come with me. I hand him the keys and I tell him to go ahead. He hesitates to leave me alone with the guys, but I insist. He walks across the street and gets into the car. I address the fine group of gentlemen.

"You leave Carlos alone. He's not joining—ever!" I vow as I start carefully walking away.

"Bitch, we can have him anytime we want! He wants to be with us. And you can't stop him," "Bling" guy says.

"I see you all for what you really are: a nest of vile serpents who feast on the souls of lonely and innocent kids. You won't stop until you have inhaled all the light around you. You want to plummet everyone into the darkness you came from. Well, fuck you and your kind. This kid is mine. And you can't have him!"

I want to run like hell to the car but I make myself take calm, deliberate steps, knowing the next step isn't guaranteed. It feels like a year before I get to the car, but I finally make it. I take the keys from Carlos and drive off. I'm shaking so badly, I have to pull over a few blocks later.

Carlos sits next to me, not sure what the hell just happened. I force myself to control my breathing so that he sees I'm relaxed and okay. I'm not relaxed and I'm very far from okay, but now is not the time to give in to it.

"Um...Ms. Bennett, you just cursed out the Street Kings," he says in disbelief. I pull out my cell and call my sister.

"Hello?" Bree says.

"Tell Lily I owe her a lot of 'swear jar' money."

#

I get Carlos situated in his class and tell his instructor to call me if he so much as thinks of walking out of this building. Carlos shakes his head in total disbelief and mumbles something about me being crazy. When I tell Jana what happened, she agrees with him. She scolds me about how foolish what I did was. I know that, but I couldn't let those guys get their hands on Carlos. She agrees but still thinks I'm not right in the head.

I get inside my office and lock the door. The events of earlier are finally starting to catch up with me. I feel drained and lucky as hell to still have the ability to walk and talk considering how vicious those guys looked. I was terrified but didn't have time to let my body really register it. I take out my cell and dial Wyatt's number before I can talk myself out of it. It goes to voicemail. Damn. I text him:

Starving. Missed lunch. Should have saved the Katz sandwich for later use. Sigh. Can't wait for tonight.

My stomach growls but I'm in no mood to figure out what to eat or anything. So, I put my phone away and try to catch up on some overdue paperwork. It's about an hour later when I get a text back from Wyatt:

Sorry for late reply. Work stuff. Sent you something. Feel the same way, can't wait!

I look at my cell to see what he sent but there was no attachment. I'm about to text back when someone knocks on my office door. I fear that it's Carlos's teacher telling me he's taken off. I open the door and find a guy, almost as tall as Wyatt, with dark hair, big green eyes, and broad shoulders. He's like sex walking, though not as much as my guy.

My guy?!

"Can I help you?"

"Wow, you look much better when you're not under arrest," he says. I vaguely remember seeing his face.

"Excuse me?" I reply, trying to place him. He gives me a big smile.

"I'm Decker, Wyatt's much better looking and virile partner," he says, playfully faking a deep baritone voice.

"Oh, you were in the alley!"

"Yeah, he sent me to give you this," he says as he hands me a brown paper bag.

I look inside and find a Katz Deli sandwich with sides. I laugh and text him "Thank you."

"He didn't have to send you, Decker."

"Are you kidding? I volunteered. I wanted to get a good look at you for myself."

"Oh really? Well, come in," I reply as I place the food on the table.

"For once in his life, Wyatt may be right. You are something else," he says as he studies me.

"Aw, thank you. How long have you two been partners?" I ask.

"Five years. He'd be nothing without me. The fact is, he needs me. I'm a wonderful cop. I keep him on the right path," he says, clearing joking.

"Well, he's a lucky guy."

"Seriously, Wyatt is a good guy. He really is. My kid loves him."

"You have a kid?"

"Yeah, Mia. She just turned eleven. She's crazy about Wyatt. The two of them are crazy for baseball, basketball, and shit. I hate all that. But when it's that time, he always takes up the slack."

"That's sweet but you really don't have to sell me on Wyatt."

"I'm not. He doesn't really need a sales pitch. But I came because...well, I've never seen him so into anyone before. I wanted to check you out since the last time I saw you, you were diving headfirst into a dumpster."

"Geez, you dumpster dive just once and you're a marked woman," I tease. He laughs hardly.

"Oh, and he also told me to tell you to go easy since you guys have a date tonight."

"Yeah, I know. Tonight he's gonna try not to kill me with his cooking," I reply. The smile quickly fades from Decker's face.

"What is it?" I ask.

"Wyatt is cooking for you?"

"Yeah. Wait, is he that bad of a cook?" I plead. Decker smiles broadly. He's about to say something but thinks better of it and just goes back to smiling.

"Decker, out with it! What's wrong with his cooking? Seriously, am I going to need my stomach pumped? I don't think my insurance covers that," I reply.

"I'm not saying a word," he says and then without warning he leaps out and hugs me. I hug him back, not sure what just happened.

"I gotta head back. I'm glad I came," he says.

"Thanks for bringing the food."

"Anytime."

"Decker, can I ask your advice about something?"

"Yes, you are very drawn to me, but Wyatt is my partner and well, loyalty is everything to me. So you'll have to control yourself around me," he says with his hand on his chest.

"While you are very hard to resist, I'll do my best. But unlike the love you think I'm carrying around for you, what I need to ask you about is real. And serious."

"Look, you're my partner's girl, whatever you need. Hit me."

"I need some advice on how to handle the Street Kings."

I can see why the two of them are partners. While they can joke around and be lighthearted, at the first sign of trouble they are on high alert. I can see Decker tense up right away.

"Why? What happened? Did they threaten you?' Before I can reply, Decker starts talking to himself.

"Wait, why would they go after you...they wouldn't, useless...you were in their way somehow...by protecting someone else...a kid in your program. Who is it? Fuck! Okay, we got this. Just don't make contact, whatever you do. Avoid them. Got it?" he says, suddenly turning very serious, very fast.

"Too late."

"What?"

"I've already made contact," I mumble.

"You approached a member of the Street Kings, fuck!" He hisses as he rakes his hands through his hair. "Alright, walk me through it, Wonder Woman. What happened?

"I kind of...cursed them out."

I explain what happened back at Carlos's school. Decker chews me out pretty good for putting myself in such a dangerous position. Right away he starts making calls to see what he can find out about the gang members I described. I don't want to tell him not to say anything to Wyatt, but he guesses that's where I'm headed.

"Winter, he's my partner, I can't lie to him."

"I know. I know. But both you and my friend Jana have already lectured me. Does Wyatt really need to weigh in on this?" I beg.

"You think this is about getting a lecture? You don't get it. Wyatt is going to lose his shit. You have no idea how protective he is about the people in his life."

"Then let's not make it worse."

"You need to tell him. He needs to know," Decker insists.

"Okay, but later when the situation has been diffused."

Decker mulls over my suggestion while I bite my lower lip and wait with bated breath. I have no idea what he'll decide in the end. But what I do know for sure is that that if Wyatt knows what happened earlier, our dinner will be filled with fireworks, but not the good kind. "Fine, he won't hear it from me," Decker grumbles. I take his hand and thank him. He then looks at the bag of food on the desk, marches over to it, and speaks in a stern voice.

"I'm taking your fries; I think you know why."

***

A few hours later, after taking Carlos back to the group home, I get ready for my date. I look at myself in the mirror one last time, call a Lyft, and head out to see Wyatt. I didn't pay any attention to the address he sent me last night. But I should have. He lives on Seventy-third Street, on the Upper East Side. It's an affluent part of the city and it's only a few steps from Central Park. It's the kind of real estate people salivate over. When I get to his apartment building, I can't help but marvel at its beautiful five-floor spice-colored exterior. He opens the window and calls out to me from the fifth floor.

"Hey, babe! Be right there," he says.

This place is worth some serious money. How much do cops make? Well, maybe he's renting a room here and they let him use the stove.

He emerges from the doorway and pulls me in for a tight hug. I inhale his fresh, intoxicating scent. It feels so good to be in his embrace. Can I stay in his arms, please? When he pulls away I can't help but be a little sad. He's got on a pair of dark jeans and a grey V-neck long-sleeve cashmere shirt. I can see make out his well-defined muscles from here. God damn.

It's a crime to let the evening go by without getting close to that. Fear be damned, I want this man so bad...

"You okay?" he asks as he studies my face.

"Yeah, sorry." I smile nervously.

"C'mon, baby, get inside, it's freezing out here," he says as he takes my hand. We enter the elevator and go to the top floor. He signals for me to enter the apartment.

"Are the apartment owners home?" I ask before I enter.

"What?"

"The people you rent a room from."

"I'm not renting. You're fine to go in. No one is here but us," he assures me, amused by my question. I enter the apartment and find an exquisitely decorated home. The various shades of grey, white, and black help create a warm, yet distinctly masculine feel. The "L" shaped sofa could easily double as someone's bed, given its large size. It sits before a grey-and-black Persian rug, which works perfectly with the hardwood floors. The large wooden coffee table sits across from what must be the largest flat screen I've seen in someone's home. But my favorite aspect of his home is the exposed brick.

"Okay, so please tell me you are on the take. That's the only way I can think for you to be able to afford this place." I laugh. He adds his own laughter to the mix.

"Seriously, are you a crooked cop?" I reply.

"Can I take your coat before we discuss my finances?" he teases.

"Oh, okay," I reply as he helps me take my coat off. His smile fades. He looks concerned. Crap, did I forget to button something or put on deodorant?

"What is it?" I ask.

"You look..." He growls.

"That's a good thing, right?"

"How am I gonna be able to stop myself from...you don't make it easy to stay away from you," he says as he studies my curves in my little black dress. He likes the plunging neckline. I can tell.

"Maybe you don't have to stay away—I mean...maybe I'm not the same girl from Halloween night," I tease.

"Good to know," he says as he pries his eyes away from my figure.

"I love this place, it's beautiful," I tell him as I look around.

"Thanks. If you see anything of beauty, I'm sure my mom picked it out, to be honest. I was good with a TV and a place to sit and watch it. But decorating always makes her happy, so I said she could add a few things. Then I went undercover last year, and when I got back, she had done all of this," he admits.

"She did a great job."

"She's gotten really good at decorating. She now has a hand in all our properties."

"Excuse me?"

"My family owns some real estate around town. No big deal," he says as he takes my hand and guides me toward the kitchen. Something smells heavenly.

"Um, I'm gonna need more details." I sit at the dark grey marble countertop and watch him move around the state-of-the-art kitchen. What the fuck? Who is this guy? He signals towards a nearby wine rack and asks me my preference. I choose a bottle of red wine. He pours some for me in a glass but gets himself a bottle of beer.

"It should be ready soon. There's just enough time for the Q&A you're dying for," he teases.

"Good!" I reply, trying not to get lost in his perfect eyes.

"My family does pretty well. My granddad saved his whole life to buy his first rental property, and through a series of investments and a 'work until you drop' attitude, he became pretty wealthy. We own a few dozen properties in the city alone."

"So you were raised super rich, huh? You grew up drinking gold for dinner?" I tease.

"No, not at all. My parents paid for our college; everything else, they wanted us to do for ourselves."

"That's kind of harsh."

"We thought so as kids but my brothers and I found our way and that's because we knew we had to. We all have strong careers and can stand on our own. I don't think that would have been the case if everything was handed to us."

"I get that. So, how does your mom feel about you being a cop?" I ask.

"She has offered me ten million dollars to get a different line of work."

"Wow! Seriously?"

"Yeah, she worries. A lot. But she also knows I love what I'm doing. Actually, after Rose died, I didn't want to add to her stress, so I told her I would quit the force but she wouldn't hear of it. Deep down, she knows it's what I was meant to do."

"And what about this place?"

"Our grandfather willed each of us a townhouse; five for us guys, and one for Rose. She willed her building to me, but I haven't done anything with it," he admits.

"Makes sense, it would be hard for me too. Wyatt, why didn't you tell me all this before?"

"Money is a really funny thing. It makes people act different once they find out."

"Well, I want you to know I don't care about how much money your family has," I assure him.

"Really?"

"Yes, I only want you for your body—and your flat screen TV." He laughs and leans in so our foreheads touch. When we pull apart, he looks in my eyes and smiles to himself.

"What is it?" I ask.

"Winter, you really are everything I've ever wanted..."

#

The moment I slid her coat off her shoulders and got a look at her in that curve hugging black dress, it was a battle between my dick and my mind. I pulled her to me because I couldn't bear the space between us. As we embraced, I inhaled her scent. She smelled like jasmine and happiness. How the hell did she manage that?

I watched her take in my place. She asked a lot of questions; it was hard to focus because that fucking dress hugged her ass so well, it was all I could do not to rip it off. No one has ever messed with my control like this. The funny thing is, she's not aware of just how dangerous that body of hers can be. How can she expect me to think when she's wearing that?

It would be one thing if it was just the dress, but it's more than that. Her laugh is just as dangerous as the dress. I love the way she asks questions and waits with bated breath as I reply. The only thing that rivals my need to fuck her is my hunger to know more and more about her. Fuck me for falling this hard, this fast.

And now, we are at the dinner table. Everything has been laid out and she's just looking at the food, not eating or anything. She's just staring with her mouth open. Why the hell isn't she eating? She's such a weirdo.

My weirdo.

"Babe, are you gonna eat or what?" I ask.

"This looks very good," she says, sounding confused.

"Glad to hear it."

"No, seriously. This looks amazing. You made real food."

"As opposed to fake food?" I tease, although I know exactly what she means.

"It's just that I thought you'd boil pasta and pour a jar of sauce over it, but this looks like real food. What is this?"

"It's brown butter scallops with Parmesan risotto and sautéed spinach. It's really not that hard to make," I assure her. She looks over at me in disbelief.

"You might hate it. You don't know until you eat it. Hence the eating utensils near your plate," I playfully remind her.

"Well, it looks amazing, I don't care what Decker says."

"Decker?"

"Yeah, when he came with my sandwich earlier. Well, he didn't say anything but he made a face when I told him you were cooking for me. I'm guessing he feared for my life. Like your cooking could actually kill me." She laughs.

She misread Decker's reaction, but I stay silent. I'll tell her why he reacted that way another time; right now, I just want to know if she likes the food or not. No woman's opinion has ever mattered to me this much before. This is new territory—for both of us, I think.

"Babe, it's getting cold. Eat."

"Okay, okay," she says, then she takes a bite. Her face falls. I ask her what's wrong. "This is really fucking good!" she says as shock takes over her face.

"Can you be less shocked, please?" I reply.

"Sorry, it's just that I practiced my fake smile in case the food sucked, but no, this is really good. This is my real happy face," she says, laughing. I have no choice but to join her crazy ass and laugh along. I'm in so much trouble with this woman.

The rest of the meal goes by in a blur of laughter and discovery. She tells me about saving up to go to Hawaii one day to visit one of the largest bird watching fields in the world. I point out how odd it is that she wants to go to Hawaii for birds, and I tell her that she's not at all normal.

She asks, in a serious tone, if I'm okay with her being odd. I am very okay with that. She asks more about my family and I tell her about some of the charities we're involved with. She volunteers to help out if we need extra bodies for any of our annual functions.

"It so happens that I am a fantastic folder of napkins," she says proudly.

"Well, that's a very useful skill."

"I know, I try not to brag about it," she replies with a smirk. When we are done with the entrée, I head to the kitchen and come back with dessert—a plate of freshly dipped chocolate strawberries. She beams. She leans her head back and opens her mouth to take a bite. I watch as she makes contact with the skin of the strawberry, swirls it around her tongue, and wraps her lips around it. She bites down on the strawberry and suckles on its juices. My cock swells.

I swear to God, I'm not gonna be able to take it much longer...

***

He didn't eat dessert; said he's good just watching me. We talked a lot earlier, but now our words are gone and all that's left is the crackling sexual tension that threatens to break us if we don't give in to it. I have wanted to kiss him ever since I laid eyes on him. I want to feel his lips against mine more than I want air. But I don't know where to start. It always looks so much easier on TV. I panic. I start to clear the dishes.

"You don't have to do that," he says, sounding thrown by my actions.

"Yeah, I do. You made dinner. I can clean up. And it's not good to let them stay overnight. No big deal, I got it!" I reply as I rush into the kitchen. He follows me. I'm facing away from him as I add liquid dish soap to the warm water I'm collecting so I can wash the dishes.

"Babe, put down the dishes and turn around," he says behind me as he runs his fingers down my bare arms; every stroke causes a tingle down my spine. He nuzzles the nape of my neck and my breathing pattern changes.

"Turn around," he says in a husky voice. God knows I want to, but I'm more or less frozen in place. My biggest fear is that he'll give up and walk away.

Please, don't walk away. I need you. My body needs you.

He leans in further, closing the gap between us. I feel his enormous stone-hard erection behind me. He reaches over and turns off the water.

"Don't make me say it again," he warns. His stern, "takes charge" tone makes the space between my legs ache with longing. He's done asking for my permission. He knows what I want, even when I don't. He turns me around, puts his hand on the back of my head, and hungrily devours my mouth. His tongue parts my lips with a series of seeking and possessive strokes. He swears under his breath as he latches on to my bottom lip. His touch sends a series of erotic sensations that grip me as our tongues intertwine.

I don't freeze up. Thank you, God! My body knows exactly what to do with his lips and his tongue. It knows to service him and every savage demand his mouth makes. We move in a frenzy of desire that so strong, it nearly consumes us.

His cell phone rings.

"Fuck! I gotta take this," he says as he takes his phone out from his back pocket.

"What?" he barks into the receiver. I try to catch my breath and manage the sharp disappointment of having him pull away so suddenly.

"When did this happen?...Why the fuck didn't you call me?...No, don't do anything until I get down there!" he says, then angrily hangs up on whoever was on the other end.

"Is everything okay?" I ask, not knowing what else to say.

"No, I gotta go. Sorry, babe. Stay hang out if you want, but if not, the door locks automatically," he says as he pulls out his gun and checks how many bullets are in the chamber. I jump slightly at the sight of his weapon. He rushes towards the door, and I call after him.

"Exactly how dangerous is the situation you're headed to right now?" I ask as I run to catch up with him.

"Are you worried about me?" he asks.

"Very."

"I promise I'll be careful, and Decker's got my back. Don't worry, I'll be fine, babe," he says as he gives me a quick kiss on the lips.

***

I'm still wheeling from our first kiss. I slide my finger over my swollen lips and a current of lust floods my body. Damn. Why does he kiss like that? It's a fucking weapon! If I think about that kiss anymore, I'll never leave this man's home and he'll think I'm a crazy stalker chick. So, I gather my stuff, but before I go, I tidy up the kitchen and dining room. He went out of his way for me and I think it's only right I help out. I mean, it's not like I can cook, so cleaning up is the next best thing.

When I get home, I find myself missing him. I know, it's lame because I just saw him but there it is, I'm already wishing I were with him. I call Jana and leave a message on her voicemail.

"So, guess who pushed all her issues aside and got kissed? Me! Guess who kissed back? Me! God, Jana, it was such a good kiss! The kind of kiss that ruins you for other men. Shit, Jana. I think I really, really like this guy... That's good, right?" I hang up the phone and right away I want to call him. Okay, seriously, what the fuck? I might as well write his name inside my locker with a pink marker and a heart!

Okay, Winter, get ahold of yourself. Be a grown-up. Do something adults do. Pay a bill. Water a plant. Get life insurance. Anything other than stand here and daydream about Wyatt!

The idea comes to me in a flash. It's a way to do the adult thing and still think about him—go shopping for him. I swear I don't mean that in a creepy way. I think he'll like what I get him. It's really hard to track down the item I want to get him, but that doesn't stop me from surfing all night until I find a woman on eBay who may have what I need. I write her an email explaining what I am looking for and hope she gets back to me quickly. I close my eyes for what seems like a minute but turns out to be hours. When my cell rings, it stirs me out of a deep sleep. It's him.

"Hey, babe," he says, sounding sad and exhausted.

"Hey, is everything okay?" I ask as I turn on my side.

"Yeah..." he says in pensive whisper.

"Wyatt, what's wrong?"

"New case. Young girl. Vicious pimp...a lot of blood. Sorry, I shouldn't have..."

"No, I'm glad you called. I know you can't go into details about the case but are you gonna be okay?"

"Hearing your voice makes that more likely."

"You want some company?" I offer.

"Nah, babe. It's late. I don't want you in the street right now."

"Well, you don't make my choices for me and as it so happens, I am headed your way," I reply.

He laughs. "I don't have a say in the matter?" he asks.

"No, because you sound like you need me."

"Actually, it would be so good to have you next to me right now..." he says.

"On my way."

"At least let me send my driver for you."

"You have a driver?"

"We have a few on staff. I rarely use them. He'll be there soon. And babe?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

#

When she arrives at my house, I know part of her doesn't know what to expect. She's coming to spend the night with me to be supportive, but I'm sure a part of her worries what sleeping next to each other will mean. I can't put into words how much I want her, but tonight is most definitely not the night. I just came back from a brutal slaying of young girl, all I want is to lie next to something good. And that something is Winter.

The fact is, even if work hadn't pulled me away, I would have stopped kissing her.

Okay, it would have taken some time to pull away from those succulent lips of hers, but I would have. She's just not ready. It took everything in her to give in and kiss me. And in the end, when she let go, the kiss was the kind of kiss that makes a man want to swear off any other woman.

When we finally kissed, it was fucking out of this world. My need to embed myself inside her got stronger and stronger with every passing moment. When a whimper of passion escaped her lips, it awakened me to a new level of arousal: a level I didn't know existed before. I want to know what it feels like to have her wet, warm walls closing in around my cock, milking me until I beg for mercy. I want to hear the sound she makes when I greedily lap up the sticky sweetness between her thighs.

I need her to give in to what's happening with us and give herself to me, body and soul. I'd have her collapsing onto the bed, saying my name as the last bit of strength leaves her thoroughly explored body. I want to lie beside her when it's over and hold her just as tenderly as I did before we made love. That way she'll know making love only enhanced the good thing we have. I want all of that, but she's not ready and today is not the day.

So, when I open the door and see her there, I'm not aroused, I'm touched. I'm touched that she'd come back, despite her fears, just to check on me. I ask if she wants anything to eat or drink, but she says no. I get her out of her coat and find her wearing cozy grey sweats and a pink tee shirt. She says she's sorry for not having time to dress. I tell her she looks perfect, and we slip under the covers.

The crazy part is, this somehow feels natural. It's like she was always meant to snuggle beside me. I wrap my arms around her and we spoon the whole night. We don't talk much, there's some music playing somewhere around the house. It's low, barely audible. She asks how she can help make things better given the horrors I saw tonight. I tell her the truth: lying next to her takes away all of the ugliness. We fall asleep in each other's arms. And as sleep carries me away, a revelation sneaks up on me.

Wyatt, you idiot! You're in love.

***

A few days later, I enter the precinct after spending the whole morning chasing down leads on our new case. It's not exactly a big mystery. Everyone knows who killed the young girl, Monica Jones. However, finding someone willing to testify is next to impossible. I hope to God we start making some headway or that piece of shit pimp will get away with it. I've met some sick people in this job but that asshole that calls himself Savage stands out even among the worst.

On my way to my desk, I watch as Officer Burke, a short stocky guy with glasses, comes out of his office and hands Decker a slip of paper. Burke works in the gang unit down the hall from us. Decker nods and thanks him.

"I owed you one. But now, we're even. Stay in your damn lane from now on," Burke warns.

"You know you love me, Burke. All that cologne you're wearing, I know it's for me," Decker says as he makes disgusting kissing noises. Burke gives him the finger as he makes his way out of the squad room.

"Is Savage teaming up with a gang? Do you think that's how he's getting his girls?" I ask Decker as I take my seat across from the desk we share.

"Ah, no. This isn't about our case," he says as he scans his computer and reads off the slip of paper Burke handed him. "I just needed him to hook me up with his sister. She's hot."

"I met her at the Christmas party. She's five one, makes her soap, and has fourteen cats," I remind him.

"The heart wants what it wants," he says.

The hell is up with Decker?

"Hey, how are things going with your soon-to-be ex? Is she still squeezing you for more alimony?"

"Still as bitter as ever," he quips.

"Decker, everything good?" I ask, trying to gauge what I'm missing.

"Yeah, in fact, I'm great. My daughter is coming to visit this weekend. My shit head of a lawyer finally did something right. Now I have visitation."

"Nice! What are you and my favorite baseball player doing this weekend?" I ask.

"I'm taking her to the indoor batting cages, movies, and arcade."

"The arcade is mostly for you, isn't it?" I ask.

"I plead the fifth," he says. I shake my head and smile.

"Say hi to her for me. I'm gonna head out, there's a club I think we should check out later tonight. Monica used to work there before she got involved with Savage, and we might find someone who knows something. You up for it later?"

"Yeah, I'm on it. Where you off to now?" he asks.

"I'm taking Winter to this exhibit on blue jays at this gallery in SOHO."

"Wow, that's brutal."

"Yeah, tell me about it. It's like a two-hour show, with a presentation after."

"Again, brutal."

"Totally, but it makes her happy and she could use a smile. She's been stressed out lately. Work stuff I guess." He looks over at me like he's about to say something but then thinks better of it.

"What is it?" I ask.

"Nothing. I like her, I really do."

"Yeah, she's incredible. Shit, I'm gonna be late. Let's meet up around midnight, that okay?"

"Sounds good."

***

I didn't think I'd have a good time at the gallery, but that's not really why I came. I know how much she loves this stuff and I make her suffer though a bunch of action flicks and ESPN, so I figure I owe her one. But it's kind of pointless right now because we have been in this gallery for half an hour and she's barely paying any attention to the art on the wall. When she's looking at artwork, especially that with birds, she normally lights up. She tells me how majestic they are and gives me some random facts about them.

But right now, it looks like I'm the bird expert because of the two of us, I'm the one who's actually looking at the exhibit.

"Babe, can you put your phone away?" I ask.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry," she says, taking my hand in hers. My gut tells me something is off and has been for a while. But then again, this new case has me all wound up and we've both been working really long hours, so maybe we're both a little off. But when I look at her again, and yet again she's looking at her phone, I'm done.

"We need to go, now," I say as I guide her out the door. The wind is too strong to allow us to stand on the sidewalk and talk. So, we get into my car, I put on the heat, and I demand some answers.

"I'm sorry, I was just checking something. But it's fine now, we can go back in," she vows.

"No, we can't. Winter, what the fuck is going on with you? You've been preoccupied and tense lately, and I'd like to know why."

"I have a lot of work stuff on my mind."

"I get that, I do. But if it's that crazy at work, then we can talk about it. That could help."

"You should talk. You don't tell me anything about your cases," she replies.

"You know I can't discuss my case. I tell more than I should as it is."

"I know, you're right. I'm just trying to get this kid I know into an art program upstate. His name is Carlos, and it's only a four-week program, but if I can get him in, he gets to leave the city and he really needs to do that. I'm waiting to hear if he made the cut."

"What about his regular school?"

"They have an academic section too. But their arts program is being taught by this brilliant artist who's come in from Italy. It's a once in a lifetime chance."

"You've helped other kids get into programs before, and you haven't been this stressed. What's so different about this kid?" I push.

"It's a great program and it's tough to get in. I submitted all his past artwork—he doesn't even know."

"You're doing all of this behind his back?"

"He has to get in, Wyatt. He has to." She mumbles to herself as she looks out the window.

"What's going on with this kid? Why is it so imperative that he get out of the city? What kind of trouble is he in?" I ask.

"It's just a great opportunity. And if he makes it in, by the time he gets back, it'll be Thanksgiving break. And the group home he's in has planned a weeklong trip upstate. He needs that. Even if he doesn't know it yet," she says.

"Did he get in a fight with someone? Did he knock up some girl? Did he hold up a 7-Eleven?"

"No!"

"Then tell me why this kid is weighing so heavily on your mind, more than any of your other kids."

"I don't want him to get lost in the shuffle. I couldn't live with myself knowing I could have kept him on the right path but I didn't."

"You are putting way too much pressure on yourself, babe. You really are," I reply as I put my arm around her shoulder and lean her head against me. I place a kiss on her forehead and wonder how I got here. How did I fall so completely in love and when the hell am I going to say it to her?

"To be fair, I'm not the only one distracted. Ever since our first kiss, you've stopped trying to kiss me. Was the kiss bad? Did you hate it?" she asks as she pulls away from me.

"Babe, that's not what's happening," I swear.

"Then what is it? Because I liked our kiss, actually I loved it. And I thought you did too."

"I did love it. It's the reason I need so many fucking cold showers, and by the way that shit does not work," I say bitterly.

"Then what's the problem?" she pushes.

"Winter, kissing you or even hearing your voice on the phone does shit to me. Every day I'm battling between what I want and what you need. I want to make love to you so bad I can't fucking stand it. If I kiss you, I won't be able to stop this time. I could barely pull away from you last time."

"Would that be so bad?" she says, sounding hurt.

"For me, no. But I don't want to push you to go somewhere we're not ready to go."

"If you don't want me, just say so," she counters.

"Christ, you're fucking killing me!" I shout as I interlock my fingers behind my head and pull my elbows together. I clench my jaw and I hold on tightly to the steering wheel as I confess, "Winter, I want to press your face against the window of this car, pull your legs apart, and ram my dick so hard into your pussy, you pass out from the pleasure.

"That's just right now; other times I want to lie in bed with you all day, trailing kisses down your spine and caressing your nipples until they are rock hard between my fingers. I want to spend every morning writing love notes on your clit with the tip of my tongue." I exhale deeply and shake my head in utter frustration. "And you're sitting there, worried that I don't like kissing you? Jesus, Winter!"

My outburst leaves her speechless. I didn't mean to be so fucking raw about it, but shit, I've been trying to behave all this time despite my unrelenting need to be inside her. And now she's not sure how I feel? What the fuck! A few moments pass, and the tension in the air is undeniable. I feel like crap now because I yelled at her and that's not what I meant to do.

She's sitting next to me, looking very hurt and on the verge of crying.

Fuck me.

"Babe, I'm sorry. I'm not trying to be an asshole. I just...normally, I don't want to hear about the guy before me, but it's clear this guy did something to you. And if you want us to go past kissing, you are going to have to tell me what happened with you two."

"Danny's not a part of this," she insists with panic in her eyes.

"He is, at least right now. It's clear something happened with you two. Sometimes you look so broken and I want to fix it, I want to help. But I don't know which parts of you he fractured or which parts are broken completely. But I want to. I want to know what he broke so we can put it back together."

"Why? Why does it matter?" she says with tears in her eyes.

"Because...I love you."

#

It's been a week since Wyatt said he loved me. It was the best and worst moment of my life. On one hand, hearing how he felt made my heart flutter and a billion butterflies dance in my stomach. On the other hand, it made me want to run to the furthest island in the middle of nowhere and hide out.

He wants to know what happened with Danny, the one thing I never, ever want him to know about. How will he look at me if I were to tell him? Would he still be in love or run for the hills?

We haven't really had a chance to connect because of his new case. In addition, I've been spending all my time running the center and driving Carlos around making sure he's never near the 'Street Creeps.' Decker was able to prevent the gang from loitering around the school and from having contact with the kids as they come and go from school. But that's just a Band-Aid. Decker warned me that if they want Carlos bad enough they will figure out a way and get him alone.

I know I should have told Wyatt about the gang by now. But it never seemed to be the right time. I was always too busy looking into his eyes. And he'd go crazy if he found out, so what would be the point?

He's waiting for me to tell him about Danny and me. Although he hasn't brought it up again, it's always in the air with us. It's like the big fat "ex-boyfriend" elephant we keep walking past. He's trying, he really is. He'll kiss me and take my breath away but only for a few seconds, fearing he'll lose control.

He may not believe this but he's not the only one who wants to make love. When I think about what his large hands would feel like as they cup my breasts, it makes me dizzy with anticipation. When he spends the night, just holding me, I can feel his erection behind me, expanding, growing hard as stone. I start to pant without even realizing it. And I swear to heaven I would give up a kidney if it meant I could flick my tongue across his washboard abs.

"Can you come back into this room, please?" Jana asks as she stirs her coffee.

"I drifted, sorry," I reply.

"So, I take it you still haven't told him about Danny and he still hasn't ruined you?" she says.

"Is that what sex does? Ruin you?" I ask with smile.

"If you're lucky," she says. "Winter, just tell him."

"And then what? What will he think of me?"

"He'll know that you dated an awful guy and that he's a step up," she declares.

"Maybe..."

"There's no maybe about it, Winnie. He went out of his way to be honest and admit that he loves you and you know men hate that shit. They run far and fast. So far, all he's done is bust his ever-so-pretty ass to make you feel loved and wanted. So, show him a little of that back. Tell him about the gang and about Danny. Now, I know that last part is harder and every time I think about what that asswipe did, I want burn his fucking face off. But it happened. And you are moving on, if you allow yourself. Now, no more adulting Which tattoo should I get?" she says as she places a tattoo magazine before me.

After helping Jana find her "spirit animal," which turns out to be a panther, I take Carlos back to the group home. On my way back, I get a call from one of the panel members of the art class I submitted Carlos to and she tells me he got in. I scream so loud, I startle the diver in the lane next to me. I turn my car around and head back to the group home. When I tell him about the art class and getting accepted, he's genuinely taken aback.

"Ms. Bennett, why are you doing all of this for me?" he says.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm nobody. I'm not even worth it."

I march over to him and look him in the eye. "Carlos, there is no one else like you anywhere on this earth. You drive me crazy but I am happy to do whatever it takes to help you because you're special. If you don't see that, sweetie, no one else will. You are worth it. And anyone that tells you otherwise should come see me and I will set them straight. You got that?" I order.

He laughs. "Yeah, Ms. Bennett. I got it." I hug him long and hard. My little artist. I close my eyes and thank God he's going away until Thanksgiving. It makes me feel so good to walk to my car and turn back and see Carlos is still glowing.

There is no one I want to share my news with more than Wyatt. I've been making him crazy checking my cell all the time and moaning about the long wait. And now, I finally have some good news to share with him. And to be honest, we could use some good news right about now. So, as soon as I get home, I shower and pick out my tightest jeans and high heel boots. I put on a little makeup and I'm out the door. I feel good. Who knows, maybe tonight we'll get past all the drama and just be with each other.

Yeah, maybe tonight is "Winter's hang-up-free night." Maybe he doesn't have to kiss me because I'll kiss him first and do some over the sweater stuff. Yum...

I step out of the Lyft and onto the cold sidewalk. I can't wait to get inside and have Wyatt warm me up. I look up towards his building just in time to see Wyatt with his arm around another woman, walking her up the steps to his home.

My heart is breaking. No, seriously, I think it's actually breaking in two. I can't seem to catch my breath. The harder I try the worse it gets. I look around for somewhere to run. There's a bar across the street, and I run there as fast as I can. I will get warm there. I will put my heart back together and I won't hurt anymore.

Don't run to a bar. Call Jana. Talk to someone.

No! Bar! Now!

***

Someone is pounding on my damn door like they are ready to blow it off its hinges. I march to the entrance, not sure what to expect. The person pounds again. What the fuck? I open the door and find Winter standing there, drunk off her ass. Her eyes are red, she reeks of tequila, and she needs to lean on the wall in order to stay upright. Fuck.

"Winter, what are you—"

"Where is she?!" she shouts in a drink induced slur. Before I have a chance to reply, she storms past me and into my apartment.

"Where's who?" I ask as I follow her. She turns towards me with eyes puffy from crying and her face red with anger.

"You know who I'm talking about! Where's that bitch? I know she's here."

"There's no one here."

"LIAR!" Winter says as she stomps into the closest room and busts the door wide. "Ah-ha!" she shouts at the empty room. I lower my head and pinch the bridge of my nose with my thumb and index finger. My lips twitch in frustration, I exhale deeply, and I look up towards the sky. I beg whomever the fuck is up there to give me an extra helping of patience with this woman.

"I know she's here somewhere. You know how I know?" she demands.

"Winter, you need to come over here and sit down. Okay?" I reply as I guide her towards the sofa in the living room. She pushes my hand away or at least she tries to. She doesn't have the strength to fight back but she keeps trying.

"Get off of me! I know she's here. Where is she?" she asks, looking around as if she could have missed an entire person standing in front of her.

"There's no one here. Sit down, Winter."

"Then she was here before and she's gone now. But she was here," she insists as we make our way down to the sofa.

"Tell me!" she snaps.

"Winter, there's no one here." I plead as I try to get her to sit down.

"You think you had me fooled? Acting like a nice guy? Well I wasn't fooled! And you know what, yeah, you're hot and gorgeous but guess what? YOU'RE NOT PERFECT! ONE OF YOUR EYE LASHES IS LONGER THAN THE OTHER. SO HA!"

"Winter, you need take a seat so I can make you some coffee."

"All of you men are liars! You all lie and cheat and break hearts for fun. But I am not stupid. I knew you couldn't be real! I knew it! I knew it," she yells.

"Baby, please come sit down," I beg.

"No! I don't want to sit down. Get off me!" She wrestles so hard, I fear she'll hurt herself. I have no choice but to hold her from behind. I apply enough strengthen to keep her from running away but not so much that it hurts her. She wiggles and tries everything in her powers to get out of my hold but it does no good. Finally, after what seem like forever, she goes limp and sobs in my arms.

"Did you fuck her?" she asks in a broken whisper.

"No, baby."

"Please don't lie to me. Okay, you can tell me if you fucked her. I can take it, but don't lie to me. Please, okay? I can't...I can't take another lair. I don't think I will survive if you're like him. Please. Please don't be like him..." She begins to cry and sounds very much like a wounded animal. I've never been a fan of women crying. It always angers me that someone did something to make them cry. But listening to my girl cry, that shit is killing me.

"It's okay, baby. It's gonna be okay," I promise her. I finally get her to the sofa. But she gets up shortly after and runs to the bathroom to throw up. I follow her and she tells me not to come in, but no way I'm letting her go through this alone. I enter the bathroom and sit on the cold floor with her. She throws up three more times as I hold her hair back. I clean her up and put her in my bed. It's nearly four in the morning by the time she drifts off to sleep. I wake her up just long enough to give her two low dose Ibuprofen and a bottle of water. After which, she goes right back to sleep.

***

I'm in the kitchen making breakfast when she enters, wearing the smallest grey tee shirt I have. She managed to run a comb though her hair and put it into a low ponytail. She looks small and pale. Her eyes are back to their original grey wonders, but now they are also filled with shame and embarrassment.

"Um...do you know where my clothes are?" she asks.

"Hi," I reply warmly as I make my way to her. She steps back.

"I need my clothes," she says in a whisper.

"No, what you need is to eat something."

"No, I can't stay. I have to go."

"No, you don't."

"I have made a fool out of myself and I can't be here right now."

"You're not the first person to drink too much."

"It wasn't just that and you know it."

"Damn it, sit your difficult ass in that chair and let me take care of you. I get that you are not used to being looked after but you better get used to it because I'm not ready to stop."

I go back to the stove and tend to the eggs while the bacon is frying. Once she sits down at the counter, I pour her a strong cup of coffee. She adds sugar and wraps her hands around the mug as she sips it.

"Wyatt, I'm so sorry about—"

"Baby, we're not doing that right now, okay? Let's just have a nice meal and watch mindless TV for the rest of the day."

"I can't. I have to work."

"It's Sunday, baby."

"Oh, yeah. I still—"

"You have nothing that can't wait. And the day is all but gone anyway." She looks over at the clock on the wall above the stove. It's nearly six in the evening.

"I slept all day?" she says in disbelief.

"You needed it, baby. That's why I didn't wake you."

"Well, what about you, didn't you have plans today?"

"If I did, they come second to us. Now, chocolate chip pancakes or banana?" I ask.

"You're making breakfast in the middle of the night?"

"Listen 'Candy Corn,' breakfast is good any time of day."

"Okay, fair enough." She laughs. "I'll take...both," she says as she as I hand her the stack of pancakes. "Where are the plates?" she asks.

"Just above your head," I reply. She takes out dishes for both of us and soon breakfast is a team activity. In the beginning it was little awkward because she still had doubts about what she saw. So before we dig in, I turn on the small seven-inch screen on the counter.

"What's this?" she asks.

"Watch."

Soon the screen turns on and we see people walking by and cars heading down the street. I tell her it's a live feed and that it's always recording, given the line of work I'm in. She watches on the monitor as I pull up and take the woman upstairs. We come back down about three minutes later, at which point she tearfully thanks me and get into the cab I hailed for her.

"I don't understand," she says.

"She gave us a lead on our current case. It was a really good one, but it could get traced back to her. So, she's skipping town. I didn't want her to go empty-handed and there's too much red tape with stuff like this. It would have taken too much time if we went through the proper channels. So, I gave her a few bucks because I didn't want to risk her hanging around and getting hurt for helping us."

"Why did she come up to your place?"

"The girl is scared for her life, why would I leave her alone in the car? And did you get a good look at her? She's barely nineteen, what kind of guy do you take me for?"

"It just looked like..."

"Like I was screwing some random girl because you and I haven't had sex yet?"

"Kind of," she mumbles, looking at the floor. I place my hand under her chin and angle her face so that she's making eye contact.

"God knows I'm ready to burst, but babe, I don't want anyone but you. Just you. Now, c'mon, food's getting cold."

She tells me the news she came to share. I'm so glad for Carlos and for my girl. Now, she can stop worrying so much. We spend the next few hours going back and forth between stuffing ourselves and binge watching TV. Most of the time, we are doing both. We order Thai food, and she shares her egg rolls with me, which I'm told is an act of love unto itself.

I introduce her the creepy-ass TV show based on the Exorcist movie. It terrifies her and she loves every minute of it. She gets me into the animation about a bitter horse who is a has-been actor called Bojack Horsemen. We watch reality crime shows and she has a ton of questions that I'm happy to answer.

But somewhere along the way, I stop watching the screen and watch her instead. She's lying on the sofa next to me with her knees up and her head on my lap. Watching her breasts rise and fall as she breathes is hypnotizing. The soft cotton shirt she's wearing is so loose, it drapes near the opening and allows a partial view of bare breasts.

Her knees are slightly parted and I follow her exquisite legs I until the damn shirt obstructs my view. Just thinking about the space between her legs and how close I am to that space makes my fucking head spin. I try and focus on the screen again but then she scoots up further into my lap. She turns to her side, giving me a good view of my shirt cupping her ass. I feel her supple, warm breasts pressed against my thigh.

"Babe, what do have on—under the shirt?" I ask.

"Nothing."

Christ.

I lie to myself in this moment. I tell myself that I can stroke her partially exposed thigh and stop there. It's a lie. But it's a lie I need to believe. I gently graze her thigh over and over again. Each stroke makes it harder and harder to stop. I venture under her shirt and feel my way up towards her bare breasts. She sighs with pleasure as I knead her mound between my nimble fingers. She looks up at me and there's panic in her eyes.

Fuck! I have to stop. I can't give her something she isn't ready for. I growl in frustration. I should have known I couldn't start something like this. How the hell did I plan to walk away from something so damn good?

I gently move her head so I can get up. She looks at me, confused. I can't even explain while I'm so close to her. I have to walk across the room so I don't grab her and fuck her like I want to—like I so desperately need to.

"Baby, what's wrong?" she asks.

"I can't do this. If I touch you, I won't stop and—Christ, I can't take it anymore!"

"You don't have to, I'll make some tea and I'll tell you about me and Danny. You're not the only one who's tired of holding back..."

#

I put on a pot of tea knowing very well I probably won't drink it. But I need something to do while I figure out how to say what I need to say. He turns off his phone, we make eye contact, and he nods, signaling he's okay with cutting himself off from the world for a little while. When the water is ready, I pour it into two mugs and add a spearmint teabag to each. He sits on one of the barstools at the counter; I sit on the other.

Shit. I have no idea where to start.

"You can start anywhere, babe," he says as if hearing my thoughts.

"Okay..."

Silence.

Jesus, help me.

"How did you meet Danny?" he asks softly.

Thank you.

"I met Danny three years ago. I was taking a class in grant writing because we couldn't really afford to hire a grant writer for the center. I thought I'd give it a try. The first day of class, everyone had years of experience and I was already behind. I felt like such a loser. And I wanted to pick myself up, so I went to a movie. The movie sucked and I left early, and I met Danny coming out of the same movie. He said I looked as disappointed as he felt. We started talking about the awful movie and then we got a cup of coffee next door. He was kind and sweet. He said I was different and that he liked that.

"That night we met, I noted how he would compliment me but then take it away. It was strange. He'd say, 'Winter, you have pretty eyes,' but then ten minutes later he'd ask if I ever thought of wearing color contacts. During the whole first encounter, he would give a little but then take a little back. I thought it was kind of a fun game, you know?

"He'd tell me I was pretty and but then he'd make the waitress take away the dinner rolls on the table because he didn't want me gaining weight. He'd bring flowers but then make fun of me for not having enough money to buy a fancy vase to put them in. He liked to put me down whenever he could so that he could build me back up. When I pointed that out, he'd say I was oversensitive.

"We had an argument once and he said he finally understood why no one wanted to adopt me when I was a kid. He said that I was difficult and that it was hard to love me. I broke up with him right then and there. But he begged for forgiveness. He said he was just lashing out and that he loved me. And I took him back because I didn't think I could do better. And I didn't want to be alone.

"We made up and broke up several times and each time I'd take him back because I thought I could change him. I thought if I loved him hard enough, he'd eventually be kind to me. And I held on to him because he made me believe that I only mattered so long as he was with me.

"I love my family but the fact that my parents broke up a year after adopting me always made me feel like it was my fault. And he knew that. So every time I'd try to leave him, he'd say 'Winnie, we're a family unit, don't break us up.' It always worked. I always came back to him. I found out he was cheating on me with some girl from his gym, and I vowed never to talk to him again. But he convinced me that if I had been a better girlfriend, he never would have cheated. I was such an idiot. I ended up apologizing for him cheating. I begged him to let me try harder to be a better girlfriend."

"Christ." Wyatt swears under his breath as he angrily shakes his head. I'm not sure if he's pissed at Danny or me or both. I can't think about that now. I take a sip of the tea, but when it hits my stomach it's already cold. It doesn't matter. I need to continue so I can get it over with.

"After the girl in the gym, there was some other girl from his job at the security firm, I think. Anyway, I rededicated myself to making our relationship work. I wanted to please him and make him love me the way I loved him. He said one way to do that was to loosen up in the bedroom.

He wanted to tie me and stuff like that. He kept hounding me about it. He swore if I didn't give him the kind of sex life he wanted, he'd be forced to look elsewhere. So for his birthday, I did the bondage things he wanted and some role playing stuff. I thought that was the end of it."

"Did he want you to make it an everyday thing?" Wyatt asks, unable to get the anger out of his voice.

"No, he dropped the subject. I was surprised, yet relieved. I thought we were getting better as a couple. Jana and my sister tried to warn me that Danny was and would always be a sadistic asshole, but I couldn't see it. I didn't want to."

"What made you change your mind about him?" Wyatt asks.

"We went to a Christmas party given by a friend of a friend of his. I had a headache and I wanted to stay home, but he said I was being selfish and ruining his good time. So, I got out of bed and went along. The party was loud, lots of drinking and music. My head was pounding even worse by the end of the night; I had to lay down in one of the guest bedrooms.

"I must have fallen asleep because when I woke up there was some drunk guy coming towards me. He said my lips were pretty and he'd love to try them. He grabbed my face and kissed me. I shoved him out of the way. He was so drunk, he rolled off the bed and down to the floor. He yanked on my foot and I fell to the floor alongside him. I tried to get away and he grabbed me and tore my blouse."

"Baby," he says with profound sadness as he takes my hand in his. "Did he rape you?"

"No, Danny came in just in time to stop it. But he accused me of leading the guy on. He said that I did something to get the guy aroused and he said it was my way of embarrassing him because I didn't want to come to the party in the first place. I had enough of him at that point and I broke up with him. He thought he could get me back but I was finally done. I was finally awake enough to see how stupid I had been."

"And he didn't take well to you leaving," he says bitterly.

"No, he didn't. He had secretly videotaped us when we had sex on his birthday. He taped the bondage and the role-playing, he taped everything. When he saw that I was truly done with him, he wanted to get back at me, so he...he emailed the video to every one of my contacts, my mom, my dad, my sister...everyone. Everyone." I burst into tears. He quickly reaches out for me and I sob into his chest.

"Wyatt, there were parents on the email list, kids I kept in contact with in case they needed me. I almost lost the center. My parents couldn't look at me for months. It was my fault. It was all my fault; I let him twist and bend me like a stupid rag doll. I let love make me weak."

"Baby, that wasn't love. That was evil. Plain and simple," he says as he strokes my hair.

"I promised I would never trust anyone like that again. He destroyed me. He was the first and only guy I've ever slept with and he...he destroyed me. How can I ever trust a man again? How? I want to, I do. But I don't know how. Tell me, how?"

***

While she's telling me her story, I think of all the ways I could kill and torture this Danny guy. I like the scenario where he's on the floor begging for mercy as I crack his ribs in two, to start. I don't need fancy torture devices; I just need ten minutes with him. That's all I need, ten minutes. As she's talking I see her in my mind's eye begging this asshole to love her back, this piece of shit guy who doesn't deserve to live. Finding him won't be hard at all...

Focus on her. She needs you now.

I hold her against me and try to remember that I'm a cop. And yeah, I've got a few bodies on me, but it was all in the line of duty. But I don't care. Not today. I just want ten minutes...

"Wyatt, I know you can find him, but please, don't. Okay? Please. Please," she says as she pulls out of my embrace.

FUCK!

"Baby, what he did to you—"

"I know but please, just let it go," she says as she wraps her arms around me. I hold her as tightly as I can without hurting her. She's the only person that could get me to calm my rage because the only thing I want more than to kill that bastard is for my girl to be okay.

Please, God, let her be okay.

"Okay, I won't."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

"It was my fault. I had so many chances to see who he was and I didn't want to. I let him have control over me, how could I have been so weak for so long? I really thought I could trust him. But I was so wrong. I was wrong and everyone in my life got front-row seats to the most private moments of my life. What was wrong with me? Why wasn't I brave enough to stand up to him? Why did I stay? Why did I let him take everything away from me?" She begs as wave after wave of heart-wrenching sobs overtake her. She's shaking as tears stream down her face.

I sit her down on the sofa and kneel down low enough to look up at her. I take her face in my hands. "What can I do, baby? Tell me. What can I do?" I beg.

"I've never said this stuff out loud or told anyone. Is it okay if I just cry for a little while? Let me cry. Can you do that?" she whispers. I swallow the lump in my throat and although it goes against everything in me, I sit beside her, cradle her in my arms, and let her cry. I let her do it because it's what she needs. I listen to her go to the very darkest places in her memory and weep openly. Sometimes her cries are loud wails of regret. Other times they are soft moans of the betrayed. And for the first time in my life I truly understand just how courageous women really are...

#

It's Monday morning and we're having coffee at his house, well that's what we're supposed to be doing but honestly neither of us has taken a sip. I think he's checking on me, silently trying to figure out if I'm okay. The truth is, it all depends on the conversation we're about to have. He starts drinking his coffee and I follow along, not sure what else to do. I don't want to speak first; I don't know what to say.

"You make good coffee," he says.

"It takes a lot of talent to press the ON button but I try," I reply with a smile.

"Are you sure you don't want me to make you a real breakfast?" he offers.

"No, I'm cheating on Jana by having coffee with you. I don't want to make it worse."

"I won't tell her about your little indiscretion," he assures me.

"Listen, about last night..."

"Last night..." His lighthearted tone fades.

"Does what you found out make you look at me differently?" I dare say out loud.

"Why would it?"

"Wyatt, I made a sex video and it got sent to everyone. I was weak, I was stupid—"

"Babe, you have to stop taking the blame for this guy's actions. It's insane."

"No, it's not. I did those sick things on video and—"

"You were two consenting adults. He took an intimate moment and shared it with the world because he's a sick and twisted fuck. You did nothing wrong. I won't let you keep punishing yourself. Babe, you saw who he really was and you removed yourself from his life. I'm sure that shit wasn't easy. But you did it and I'm really fucking proud of you.

"Now can you please stop being so hard on my girl?"

"Am I—your girl? Do you still want that?"

"You mean do I still want to be with a hot chick who spends her days helping foster kids? The same chick who got out of her warm bed so she could hear about my lousy night? Yeah, babe, I still want to be with that girl," he says as he pulls me into him and lightly bites my neck. I playfully try to push him off of me but he won't let go. He holds on tight. I need that. I need him.

"Now, here's a question for you: I had no idea what was holding you back from me. Had I known it was so...awful, I don't know if I would have pushed you to tell me. But I did and I need to know, do you resent me for it?"

"No! No. I'm glad I told you. It was just nerve-racking because I thought you'd want to run away," I admit.

"I'm here. No running on my end. How about you, are you itching to run?"

"No, not at all."

"Good, 'cause I wouldn't let you go anyway," he says as he places his hand under my chin, tilts my head up, and kisses me. I sink deeper into his kiss and feel the electricity of his touch surge up and down my body. I get up on the tip of my toes so I can meet his lips. The more I taste, the more I want. He growls with bitter disappointment as I pull away.

"You have to go to work and so do I," I remind him. He looks at his watch and his eyes widen. He really does need to be at work—about ten minutes ago. He gives me a quick yet impactful kiss that makes me rethink ever leaving the house. I'd like to stay in his bed all day. In there a version of reality where that can happen?

Yeah, I didn't think so. Damn you, reality.

***

It's been a while since Bree and I talked. I hate the way we left it, so when she texted me that she'd like to go to lunch, I agreed. Jana said to text her 9-1-1 if she needed me to "pull the stick from Bree's ass." I vowed to contact her should I need her. But as I walk into the café on Thirty-fourth Street, I can't help but be optimistic. Maybe we can hash things out and get back to being friends again. I miss hunting bargains together, gossiping about Mom's latest hobbies, and talking about the latest celeb scandal. I spot her at the table over by the corner. I make my way to her and the first thing I note are her puffy eyes.

"Sweetie, what's wrong?" I ask.

"It's nothing. I'm getting my period and I'm emotional. I saw a really sweet puppy on a poster on my way here," she says, laughing at herself.

"Are you sure that's it?"

"Yeah, of course. Now, sit. Order something. You look thin."

"Stop it, 'Mom.'"

"Okay, okay. Sorry. But I've eaten here before and the food is amazing," she says as she hands me a menu. I pick out a light pasta dish and she orders pie. She's always watching her weight, so that sets off alarms right away.

"Okay, what's going on with you? Since when do you have pie for lunch?" I ask.

"I read somewhere that changing your routine, even a little, can make a big difference. I thought, why not try pie instead of the salad I always get. I mean it's not like it makes a difference to my husband, right? He's never home enough to appreciate my figure. He doesn't have time to look at my ass—and just so you know, I've been working out and these babies are top of the line," she rants.

"Okay..." I reply, certain I missed something.

"And you know what else? I could have gone the route of surgery but I didn't. I worked my ass off to work my ass off. And does he say anything about it? No! He just works, works, works. I mean I get that he has a career but I could have had one too. I was a fantastic designer. I was first in my class. I could have been designing furniture for some of the largest hotels chains in the world. In fact, you remember that meeting I had a few years back with the Hilton hotel?"

"Yes, they loved your work."

"Yes they did! I was on my way but I gave all that up to be a homemaker. And I love being a stay at home mom but once in a while, I just need the man I married to look at me. I mean really fucking look at me! Better yet, look at my ass!" She shouts so loud, the entire café turns to her.

"What? Mind your business!" she snaps as the waitress brings her the cherry pie. She digs in as if she hasn't eaten in years.

"Bree, sweetheart, I need you to put the fork down and use your words. What's going on with you and Will?"

"Tomorrow is the anniversary of our first date. We had been making plans for weeks and then he calls and tells me that he has to fly out in the morning to some stupid conference at the last minute. I mean what the hell? Can't he ever say no? Why does everyone come before me?" she says as she starts to sob over her piecrust. I get up and move my chair so that I am sitting right beside her.

"First of all, you know Will loves you and your ass. And by the way, you do have a great ass. You can ask the busboy, who's been checking you out for about ten minutes now." She turns and spots the tall lanky busboy with long hair and a suggestive smile. He nods his head; she smiles awkwardly and waves.

"Really? You think I'm having a good ass day?" she says to me.

"According to that guy behind you, you're having a great ass day."

"Well, is it very nice," she says as she looks at her refection in the café window.

"And another thing, we do not cry on top of food. No man is worth ruining pie," I remind her.

"That's true," she says. I hand her a tissue from my purse. Once she's gotten herself under control and back to her old self, I try to help her find a way to fix things with Will.

"Now, I need you to pull your judgmental, well-intentioned, self together. I need you at your best when I tell you what new hobby our mother has decided to take up," I say. She begins to gather herself and a spark appears in her eyes.

"Mom told you her new hobby? She's been so tightlipped about it!"

"Yeah and I vowed to let her tell you herself but you're having a bad day and I think this will pick you up," I promise.

"Okay, I'm ready."

"Mom is taking nude art classes at the senior center! The male models are just this side of twenty-one. Some of the women were getting so turned on they needed extra oxygen refills. And one frisky old lady 'forgot' her glasses and reached out for what she thought was the door handle but it turned out to be the model's..."

"No!" Bree shouts with laughter.

"True story," I reply.

"Thanks, Winnie. I needed that," she says, shaking her head with glee.

"Anytime. Hey, maybe you can go meet him at the conference, you know, surprise him?" I ask.

"Really? Isn't that kind of out there?"

"More out there than pie for lunch?" I ask.

"You think he'd like that?"

"Why not? You two rarely get away."

"Yeah, I guess. And Mom has been asking to spend more time with Lily..."

"It's perfect! It will be a little escape. Do it!" I push.

"Okay, what the hell? I can change a few things around on my schedule."

"Yes, you can and you should."

She reaches over and hugs me. "Thank you," she says, beaming.

"You're welcome, crazy lady," I reply as I dig into my pasta.

"So...what's going on with you and..."

"Okay, Bree. Stop," I warn.

She puts her hands up as if to say she surrenders. "What? Can't a big sister ask?" she replies.

"Not if she plans on being the judgy sister," I reply.

"Okay, I will not judge. Or at least I will try not to."

"I want to talk to you about Wyatt but not if we are going to argue, because he's really special to me and I...I need you not to poke holes in my balloon."

"Wait, is that a sex thing? Are you two having sex?"

"What? No, that's...never mind."

"Okay, okay. I will behave. Just talk to me. How is it going with you two?" she asks gently.

"We're actually doing pretty well. We haven't spent a night apart practically since we met. He's made me dinner and he's actually good at it. We make each other laugh, and we talk to each other, I mean really talk. It's so so so good."

"It's scaring the shit out of you?"

"YES!" I reply as we share a laugh. God, I've missed talking to her.

"Are you two sleeping together?" she asks.

"No..."

"But you want to?" she says.

"Bree, he's the first guy that made me want to try and trust again. If I can ever be intimate, I want it to be with him."

"He must be some guy..." she whispers to herself.

"He is, and his family is pretty well off. Doesn't mean anything to me but I thought you'd like to know," I tease.

"How well off?"

"Bree!"

She laughs and places her hand on top of mine. "Baby sis, I want you to be happy. I really do. And if this guy is everything you think he is then I'm all in. I just want you to go in with your eyes open."

"I don't think that's how love works. I think you're supposed to take a leap of faith. You know, do anything for love or the promise of love."

"Is that what you're doing? Anything for him?"

"I just meant that sometimes you have to take a risk."

"I was there when Danny hurt you."

Here we go again!

"Bree—"

"Wait, Winnie. Let me finish, please. It was so hard to watch you crumble and know that I couldn't help. And I know that it looks like I'm being a bitch, and well, maybe I am. But I worry."

"I know. And I know that this whole thing with me and Wyatt is...out of nowhere. And to the outside world, it's nuts! But to us...it feels right. I even told him about Danny."

"And?"

"And I'm glad I did."

"You're talking as if...Winter, are you in love with Wyatt?"

#

When I hear the knock on Wyatt's door, for some reason it startles me. It's not like I'm at his house without permission, but still, it makes me jump. I have no idea what that's about but I remind myself that I'm not an intruder. I go over to the door and find a flawless dark-skinned woman with a fantastic pixie haircut and stylish boots. She has full lips, rich dark brown eyes, and perfect teeth. If this is one of his exes, I should just give him up now.

"Can I help you?" I ask as I open the door.

"Hi, I'm Shelby. You must be 'the pause,'" she says as she scans me up and down and enters the apartment.

"I'm sorry, who are you?" I ask again.

Crap, it would be just my luck to let some crazy lady into Wyatt's home. Then I'd have to call the cops, or worse, Wyatt will come home and wonder why I let this nut inside.

"I'm Shelby, Wyatt's sister-in-law," she explains as she scopes out the scene.

"Oh, hi! I'm Winter."

"Yes, I know. Like I said, you're 'the pause,'" she replies.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what that means."

"Well when we catch up, that is to say when I force him to return my calls, I always ask about his dating life. He normally just says 'Shell, mind your own damn business.' But the last few times I've asked him, he's taken these big dramatic pauses."

"Oh, then...yes. I guess I'm the pause," I reply, feeling like shit the more she talks.

"Oh no, don't get me wrong. It's not that he's keeping you a secret, all the Hunter boys play close to the vest. I mean, really, Wyatt's brother, my husband, didn't tell the family about us until a year had gone by. They are really private."

"I guess that makes sense."

"I stopped by hoping to see him, on a whim," she lies.

I don't know how I know she's lying but I do. I think she just came to check out what was going on with Wyatt. It's the only thing I can think of. She studies me with her head tilted to the side.

"You are really too cute!" she says.

"Um...thanks? Look, Wyatt isn't here so if—"

"What is this?" she says as she studies the shopping list posted on the fridge. "You cook?" she asks.

"No, I don't but Wyatt does and he asked me to get—"

"Wyatt is cooking for you?"

"Why does that always get such a reaction? Hasn't he cooked before?" I ask.

"Not since—oh, wow. You really are special," she says, looking me over yet again.

"I feel like I missed something."

"You did, but it's not my place to say."

"Something tells me you rarely stay in your place," I counter.

She laughs and wags her finger. "I like you," she says. "You should come to family dinner sometime," she offers.

"I'm not sure if that's a good idea."

"Don't worry, honey, I'm sure enough for us both. Don't just stand over there. Come, let's girl talk."

"That's hard to do since I don't know you."

"Yes, I suppose. Don't worry, I'm sure we'll be fast friends. I was friends with a few of his past girlfriends."

"Really?"

"Yeah, he has good taste in women, eventually. They vary in background and education, but all in all, he has good taste."

"Hope I don't ruin that streak."

"We were remodeling our town house a while back and Wyatt let us stay in the apartment below. I tell you the noises that came from this apartment... Honey, you are in for a treat. Wait, what the hell am I saying? I bet you already been on that ride, well congrats!" she says, laughing.

"I'm not on a ride or anything—look, I think you should come back when Wyatt is home."

"Oh sure, no big deal. Tell him I came by. Oh and you really are a lucky girl. Big heart and big, well you know..."

***

"Jana, stop that!" I scold as she howls with laughter. I look around the sex shop, and sure enough, people are staring at us.

"We are in a place where people seek out neon dicks and plastic buttholes, and we are the embarrassment. Stop laughing!" I reply, trying not to give in to the laughter myself.

"I'm sorry, I like this Shelby woman. She has no boundaries and from what you told me she was wearing, that bitch is rich. So yes, I like her."

"It's not funny. She was sure that Wyatt and I were having this passion-filled lust fest. Like he did with his past girlfriends."

"What's wrong with that?"

"What's wrong is that we've just kissed," I remind her as I stare at a vibrator in a pink box and try to figure out which way is up. She takes the box from me and turns it so that it's facing the right way. "Oh," I reply, clearly out of my depth. I frown and sit on the hot pink leather bench that runs along the length of the shop. Jana has been trying to get me to go with her to The Pleasure Chest for weeks now but I have been putting it off. But I came tonight in hopes that I might find my inner...sex maven.

"What's wrong, Winnie?"

"I'm not crazy, I knew Wyatt had girls before me, I mean, look at him! But according to 'Big mouth' Shelby, he's had mind-altering, out of this world sex with these women. How can I compete? I haven't had sex in a year. I don't even know if down there works anymore."

"When he kisses you, you mean to tell me it doesn't register there?" she asks suspiciously.

"Okay, yes: the phone rings but what if there's no one there to answer it?"

"What does that even mean?"

"It means, he's probably fucking great in bed and so were his past lovers. And now, he's stuck with me. I have to make up for my lack of experience."

"You want to make up for a year of no sex within a few hours? Isn't that the main plot line of like every porn ever?"

"Haha! What do I do?"

"I love a good trip around the 'lubes of the world' and 'vibrator R us' like any girl. But a sex shop aisle isn't the place you go to in order to feel more secure with your partner. It's the place you two go to together, when you're already secure with each other."

"That means there's no hope?"

"That means, go home and call your man. Talk to him. Nothing in this aisle is as sexy, thrilling, or mind-blowing as a real live man who wants nothing more than to please you. And you have that; make use of it. God knows I would," she says, sounding somewhat distant.

"Jana?"

"Yeah," she says as I pull her out of her thoughts.

"Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, it's fine. Go. Seek out real men. And I'll go seek out mango coconut lube."

"Jana!"

"What?! I can't afford a vacation right now, so this will give me the 'island' feel without the huge Visa bill."

***

Later that night, we're in my apartment, having a quick dinner before Wyatt has to go back to work. He learned about Shelby's visit about an hour before when Shelby called to tell him she met me. He's so upset he's hardly eating his dinner.

"Wyatt, it's fine, Shelby wasn't mean, she's just...outspoken," I assure him.

"That's not the point, she shouldn't have been dropping by without calling or entering the house like she owns it. And God only knows what she said to you. Knowing her it's something that crossed the line. She does that. A lot. I'm gonna kill my brother for not warning me," he says, stabbing his dumplings.

"She didn't mean any harm. She invited me to family dinner, so she can't be that bad. At least she invited me," I reply, only partly kidding.

"Winter, you're the same woman who tried to ditch me like ten seconds after saying you'd be right back. I know how much pressure these family things can be, and I was trying to spare you. I want you to meet my family but I want it to be on our terms, not Shelby's."

"It's okay, I get it."

"Babe, we can go over to my parents' house right now. I know they are still up." He's smiling as he shakes his head at me.

"What is it?" I ask.

"I think it's endearing that you fail to see just how in love I am with you," he says as he places his hand on mine. "You can meet my family whenever you're up for it. Well, you can't meet Shelby because as it turns out she's a dead woman as soon as I get off my shift."

"How's your case going?"

"Found a witness but he's terrified of testifying. The DA is afraid to put him on the stand, he might recant," Wyatt says bitterly.

"Do you have a plan B?"

"We're working on it."

Now would be a good time to tell him about the Street Kings. But Carlos will be off to his art class tomorrow and everything will be fine. So, why even bring it up, right? Besides, there's something else on my mind...

"One thing did come out with Shelby's visit..." I begin carefully.

"Am I gonna hate this?" he says with a deep sigh.

"Um...I'm not sure. She implied that you have had a lot of women."

"Yup, I'm gonna hate this." He grumbles.

"No, it's not a matter of how many women you've been with," I reply quickly.

"Then what is the matter?"

"She made it sound like you had an epic sex life."

"I hope this isn't the part where I talk because I don't really know what to say here," he admits.

"So you have had a lot of amazing sex...?"

"God, I'm seriously going kill that woman," he says, referring to Shelby.

"I just wanted to..."

"Baby, what is it you're trying to say?" he pushes.

"I went to a sex shop today. And apparently you can't get a lifetime of sex de in a half hour. That means now that we are ready to have sex, you might be...underwhelmed by my performance."

Dear God, I've lived long enough. Seriously. I'm headed to the other side, because as of now, I am about to die of embarrassment.

"I sincerely doubt that," he says with a smirk as he places his hand on my thigh suggestively.

"Wyatt, I'm serious. When I was with my ex...I don't think I'm good at the whole sex thing. And since he's been the only guy, he's all I have to go on."

"You've been overthinking this subject all day, haven't you?" he asks.

"What? No!" I lie. He raises an eyebrow.

"Only part of the day," I reply, trying to save a little dignity.

"Winnie, you just opened up to me in a major way. And believe me there is nothing I want more than to make love to you. But it doesn't have to be right this second."

"Yes, but when it's time, what exactly are you expecting?"

"You on a trapeze swinging wildly and a series of top-shelf dessert toppings. In other words, the usual," he says with a smirk. I push him playfully and fold my arms across my chest.

"Wyatt!"

He tries to suppress his silly grin but he can't. He's enjoying watching me stress out and overthink things. Damn him. He sees the dismay in my eyes and then turns all serious/sexy as he rakes over my body with his intense gaze.

"Wyatt, don't do the 'smoldering, sexy thing,' just answer me."

"Wait, I have a 'smoldering sexy thing'? Good for me," he says, looking more like a playful kid than anything. I exhale slowly and walk over to the window.

This really isn't funny now. I'm majorly insecure about pleasing him. I hate this feeling. I never felt "less than" when I was in this apartment, watching Netflix and eating Thai. Back when I was staying away from the world—away from love. And now look at me. He notes the change in my demeanor and calls me to come to him. When I don't come to him, he calls me again.

"C'mon, bright eyes, don't stand so far away. Come here," he says in a low, commanding yet warm tone. I walk back over to the dining table and he props me up on his knee. He places his arm around my waist and pulls me close.

"There is nothing in a sex shop that can turn me on the way your smile does. There's no other woman in world that could do to me what one of your kisses do. And believe me, when it's time for us to have sex, we'll fill the house with so many passionate screams, we'll get noise complaints from half of Manhattan."

"But I don't have the skills that other women—"

"Baby, it doesn't matter who I've been with in the past or what that woman could or couldn't do in bed. Being with you is going to be better than it was with anyone else for the simple fact that I love you. That changes everything for me."

***

A little while later, I'm sitting on the sofa, looking through a catalogue I picked up at the sex shop. He enters the living room with this bemused look on his face. "I know, I know, it doesn't matter that you have more experience than me. But still...Wyatt, I don't want to be unprepared for...you know," I mumble.

He comes over and takes a seat next to me. He looks the catalogue over, then closes it and turns his attention back to me.

"You pick this up at the sex shop?" he teases.

"Yeah, I couldn't decide what you'd like or what I'd like. And then there's these toys in the back of the catalogue but they look...complicated. I mean I'm not sure if they are toys or Ikea furniture," I reply as I skim through the booklet with growing concern. He watches me and tries to hide his smile but it reaches his eyes.

"What? Are you making fun of me?" I ask, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

"No, babe. But I have a radical idea on how to make up for your lack of experience."

"Does it involve knives because I'm not sure—"

"No, it's not knives."

"Oh, okay. What's this radical thing you wanna try?"

"Talking."

"What?"

"Babe, come sit next to me," he says. I move closer to him and try to remember that it's rude to daydream about someone when they are talking to you. He turns to face me and lovingly brushes a stray hair away from my face.

"I love that you're thinking about ways to please me. But it's not just about me. What do you like? What makes you excited? What turns you on? What are your fantasies? Those things are important too."

"I don't know, really," I admit.

"What do you mean you don't know?"

"I never really got to see what worked for me. I always acted like I was being pleased so that it would make my ex happy."

"Hmmm. So, you'd fake an orgasm sometimes?" he guesses. I avert my eyes. He looks at me closely.

"Babe, you faked all your orgasms with your ex?" he asks. I shrug my shoulders.

"Kind of," I admit slowly.

"Okay, what about on your own? You've given yourself an orgasm, right?"

"This is like...really personal," I reply, covering my face as it grows red with shame.

"I know it's personal, babe, and I promise it'll always stay between us."

"What if we break up and stuff?" I reply, mostly to myself.

He places his hand under my chin and tilts my head up so that we're eye to eye. "Winter, it doesn't matter if we are together or not. It doesn't matter if five days or fifty years has gone by; I don't betray the people I was involved with. I don't discuss what goes on between us in the bedroom. I'm a man. That kind of shit is what little boys do. Do you understand?"

"Yeah, okay." I love the firm, certain in his tone. It makes me heady with desire.

"If you're not ready to talk about this, Winter, we don't have to."

"I think I'd like to try—talking," I reply, determined not to go all "Jr. High" again.

"Good; so the orgasm thing, you've only had them by your own hand or with the help of a toy?"

"Toys felt...impersonal. And when I do it myself I'm...uncertain. It feels...odd and stupid," I reply, looking away. And once again, he brings me back to eye contact.

"So you've never really had an orgasm?"

"I don't think so. But I'm really good at faking it."

"Okay, well that is a skill that we hope you won't need."

"Haha, funny," I tease.

"Seriously, I want you to be honest. I want to know what feels good to you and what doesn't. It's the only way we can please each other—be honest. Be open."

"So, you don't want to buy anything from here?" I ask, holding up the catalog.

"I want my girl to have her first orgasm tonight. I don't need toys for that."

He picks me up and places me on his lap, with my knees on either side of his thigh. But he doesn't do anything, he just looks me over with this very pleased look his face. I place my hands against his solid chest as if that can stop his ardent stare.

"Stop looking at me like that." I laugh, unable to summon up the firm tone I need for him to take me seriously. He grins and his head falls back with laughter. We share that laughter, together.

"I'm sorry but I have to stare," he says with an unmistakable lustful undertone.

"Why?" I ask, genuinely needing to know.

"You are just so hard to look away from—your brilliant eyes, full lips, kissable jawline, and then there's that body...goddamn." He growls. Suddenly shy again, I turn away. "Stop leaving me, bright eyes. Stay with me," he says as he turns my face to meet his eyes. "Stay with me," he says again in a deep voice that echoes deep inside me.

Now there's no way I could turn away, even if I wanted to. I keep eye contact and drink him in.

He traces the outline of my lips with his thumb. He leans in slowly and tilts his head slightly. He presses his soft lips against mine, and claims me by gliding his silky tongue across my mouth. A strong, intense wave passes though me. He dips his tongue and parts my lips, demanding to taste more of me. He seeks out my tongue, coils it around his, and together they dance a series of erotic moves that make me vibrate from the inside out. He glides his mouth along the length of my neck, and I sigh and let my head fall back.

While he's sliding along my neck, his lips hit on a spot just below my ear: a spot I never knew was there. I take a sharp breath. He goes back to that same spot and I try not to give it away but when he glides his lips and warms my skin with his tongue, I shiver. He now knows what I just found out. I have a spot on my neck. We made our first discovery together. I wonder if he'll explore it or move on to the next. He does both: while his lips suckle on my new spot, his fingers travel to my breasts and sweep across my nipples, leaving them hard and aching for his attention.

There's a small, yet powerful whirlwind forming in my body, and the more he touches me, the more powerful it grows. I moan, not sure if I can handle this kind of singularly focused attention. My nipples are distended and make a dent in the white fabric of my tee shirt. The whole time, he has not stopped licking and stroking the spot on my neck; there are so many sensations taking over me—between his lips, tongue, mouth, and fingers, he's causing a flood between my thighs that threatens to devour me.

I can't take it anymore, I need to feel his fingers on my nipples and this fucking shirt is in the way. He knows that. But he's taking his time, until I can't take it and pull the tee shirt off myself. He pinches the tips of my breasts and sends a surge of both pain and pleasure down my body.

Shit! Baby, you win, you win!

I bring his face to my chest. He latches onto my breast and sucks—hard. My hips grind against him in smooth strokes as my mind tries and fails to process the amount of ecstasy coursing through me.

I feel him underneath me—he's bigger than I thought, so much bigger. He hisses and growls as I grind deeper and deeper into him. He's bringing me to the edge, and I'm terrified of going over. He licks the sides of my breasts and send sparks down my spine that give me chills. I cry out, "OHSHIT!" as my head looks up towards the ceiling; I arch my back and beg for more.

He reaches inside my lace blue panties and slides his finger inside me; he thrusts, flicks, and rubs until I'm shaking. He adds another finger and a force one hundred times stronger than me suddenly grips me. It rips through my body.

"Ohshitwhatshappening?!" I plead.

"Look at me, baby," he says as he guides my head down from the ceiling and makes me look into his heavenly face. He adds a third finger, and together they take total and complete control of my body.

"WYATT!" I beg.

"I want you to come for me, baby."

"I CAN'T," I moan as the passion whips its way through every cell in my body. He heats my nipples with the silky lining of his mouth, then cools them down by blowing a gentle breeze across my breasts. I'm so lost in the delicious torture he's putting my nipples through, my eyes start rolling to the back of my head.

"Come for me," he growls.

"I CAN'T."

"Yes, you can."

"I CAN'T."

"You can. You will," he says as he skillfully grazes his fingers along the ridge of my clit over and over again until, "OHMYGODIMCOMING!" I scream.

"That's it, baby, just like that." He groans.

"WYATT!" I beg as my body spasms wildly. I'm being rocked violently back and forth; I have no control over my limbs.

"I got you, baby, I got you..." he vows as he pulls me to him and lets me jerk against his rock-solid chest. My body goes limp; exhausted, my head falls between his neck and shoulder. He grabs a nearby throw blanket and protectively covers my bare flesh. I spend the rest of night exactly where I belong: in his arms...

#

Before I headed out, I took one last look at her curled up in a ball on the sofa. I would have made her go into the bedroom but it would be pointless. See, every time I come back from work, she's somehow found her way to the sofa. She lies there and falls asleep waiting for me. When I knock, she opens the door and that's when we go into the bedroom, together. I love my job most of the time but walking out on her tonight made me resent the hours this job calls me to work.

In the end, the night was a successful one. I found a guy who's willing to testify against that pimp asshole, Savage. They had a falling out years ago and he's ready and willing to help put Savage behind bars. In order to find him, I spent most of the night combing through the seediest bars and strip clubs in the city. And as I was leaving the last club, I found some jerk in an alley trying to beat the shit out of a prostitute he says stole from him. I chased him for fifteen blocks and wrestled him to the ground. I took him and made sure he was processed and by the time I made it back to Winter's place it was three a.m. and I was fucking exhausted.

She opens the door for me. I want to point out that it would be easier if she gave me a key so I wouldn't have to wake her. But she's a fucking flight risk, so I wait for her to be ready to make that step. I gave her my keys after a few days of knowing her, and I swear the panic in her eyes reminded me of an animal that literally was about to get caught in headlights. So, I told her it's just for convenience and swore that I wasn't expecting one in return. She paused when I handed it to her. She paused for a really long fucking time. Seriously. But in the end, she took my key.

I enter her apartment, give her a quick kiss, and head for the shower to get the scent of low-life scum off of me. When I come out, I find Winter in the bedroom, pacing frantically as she pleads on the phone.

"Lily, honey, tell your mom to come to the phone," she says.

"What's going on?" I ask as I make my way to her.

"Bree, stop that! You're scaring Lily! Bree!" She swears under her breath and starts getting dressed.

I cup her face between my hands and make her look me in the eye. "Babe, what's going on? What's wrong?"

"Lily called me while you were in the shower. My sister and her husband are arguing. They would never do that in front of Lily unless something was really wrong. Lily said Bree is crying. I have to go," she says. Her hands are shaking and her voice is strained. She's looking for car keys, the same ones that are in her hands. I quickly put on the clothes I left there the night before, take the keys from her, and guide her out of her apartment.

"You just came from work, you're exhausted. You should stay," she says as I start the car.

"Like hell. Put your seat belt on, baby, we'll be there in a little while," I reply as I place a reassuring hand on her thigh.

***

It takes us a little over an hour to make our way to Bree's house. It's a well-kept three-story home with a white fenced-in yard. We can hear the shouting from the street. I pull over and we get out of the car just in time to hear something smash and break the window near the entrance. Winter uses the spare key her sister gave her to let us in. We enter to find her brother-in-law taking shelter behind the dining table as his wife hurls random objects at his head. The little girl, who I'm assuming is Lily, stands at the top of the stairs crying her eyes out.

"You get the kid, I'll get your sister," I reply as I carefully make my way to the seething woman who now has a lamp high over her head, ready to throw.

"Bree, I need you to put that down," I order.

"You selfish bastard! After everything I gave up for you! This is what you do? This is how you treat me?" Bree shouts as she hurls the lamp at her husband's head.

"Bree, stop it! You're scaring Lily!" Winter says as she holds the little girl.

"Don't be scared, baby! Mommy is just killing a rat she found in the house! A lying, cheating, limp, dead inside rat!" Bree hollers as she hurls a chair high over her head and launches it at his head.

"Bree, I love you, she didn't mean anything to me. Baby, you know it's you I love!" Will pleads from behind the table.

"Screw you, Will!" she screams as her face turns beet red with anger.

"Get Lily to the neighbors and make sure they don't call the cops. You don't want her to see her mom arrested," I instruct Winter. She scoops Lily in her arms and makes her way down the stairs and out the door. I stand in front of the hysterical woman and try to talk her down without having to restrain her.

"Bree, you're right, your husband is a piece of shit but—"

"Hey! You don't know me. I've done my best for our marriage. Sometimes a guy needs more..." Will says.

"Hey, Will, now is a good time to shut the fuck up!" I bark.

"You need more?! You want more, well here's more!" She hurls a glass trophy just inches from his head.

"No, not my racquetball trophy! You know how much that means to me, Bree!"

"How many times did you sleep with this woman? How many?" she demands.

"Well, she does thing with her hips—"

"Will, I swear to God, if you don't shut the hell up, I'll beat you my damn self." I rage as I try once again to get Bree's attention. "Bree, he's not worth it. He's not worth any of this." Unlike the other times I called out her name, Bree actually makes eye contact with me this time. She turns her attention away from Will.

Well, it's a start.

"That's it, Bree, don't even look at him. You and I are just gonna talk okay?" I say, hoping to get her to put down her latest makeshift weapon—a crystal vase.

She slowly stars to lower the vase. But then Will talks again. "Sorry, baby, it just happened. It was wild and exciting. She just brought out another side of me. A wild side." When the words leave Will's mouth, she looks over at him with dead eyes. She's no longer raging and wild. She's now calm. Way too fucking calm.

Shit.

"Will, this whore that you've been cheating on me with, I'm assuming she gave you oral sex? Is that right?" she asks her husband.

"Just once or twice, honey, I swear," he says. I know what's coming but I hope to God that I am wrong. She inhales deeply and maintains her cool demeanor.

"Will, after she gave you a blow job, did you return the favor?" she asks. I close my eyes, hoping no guy in this position would be crazy enough to reply.

"A few times but again it meant nothing," he says.

She smiles like a demented serial killer. And before I can stop her, she dives down on the floor, picks up a butcher knife, and charges at her husband with full force. I dive in front of her dumbass husband just as the blade is about to descend on him. I wrestle it out of her hand and restrain her. I hear sobbing, but it's not coming from Bree, its coming from Will. This all started because Bree found a box of condoms in Will's suitcase. She asked him about it and soon he was blurting out that he had been seeing some woman.

It takes another hour to get everything sorted out. Winter throws some of Will's things in a suitcase and sends him packing to the nearest motel. I help smooth things over with the cops who eventually show up, and Bree, now back to her senses, holds her weeping child in her arms. The house looks like a wreck, and we offer to stay and help her clean up but Winter and Bree's Mom is on her way.

"You guys can go, and thank you for..." Bree doesn't finish her thought. She's too drained. Winter hugs her tightly and vows to check on her later.

"Are you sure you don't want me to stay?" Winter asks.

"No, Mom's on her way and we'll be fine," Bree says, putting on a brave front.

"I'm so sorry, Bree," Winter adds as she looks into her sister's sorrowful face.

"I know. Look, you better go before Mom gets here and asks your guy a million questions."

"I will call you later," Winter says again.

"Go, don't worry about me. Big sisters are always okay," Bree lies. She then turns her attention over to me. "Thank you, Wyatt. I can't begin to imagine what you think of me," she says, lowering her head.

"I think you'd be one hell of an MMA fighter," I tease. She smiles despite herself and waves at us as we drive off. The drive is mostly silent, partly because we're both tired but also because she's lost somewhere inside her own head. I remember on one of our earlier dates, she said she thinks all unions eventually fail. I'm afraid what we just witnessed only confirms her fears...

***

When we get back to her place, I note her somber mood. I ask if she's okay and she says "yes." But it's hard to miss her subdued tone.

"Maybe they can still work things out," I add.

"Maybe. Thank you for coming with me."

"Anytime, babe."

I know she has a lot on her mind but I figure she needs time to process everything before I try and talk to her. She smiles sadly, gives me a quick kiss, and then goes into the bedroom. She pushes the door behind her but it doesn't close all the way, so I have a perfect view of my girl. I'm too wired to sleep, so I take out some paperwork that I need to catch up on and place it on the table.

I start working but make the mistake of glancing over and watching her take off her sweater and boots. My heart starts pounding knowing that with every passing moment she's stripping off yet another piece of clothing. I use laser focus to stay on task when she strips her jeans past her hips and down her creamy thighs. But when she pulls off her undershirt, leaving only her red silk bra and panties, she has my undivided attention.

She reaches behind her back to unhook her bra and I watch her wince slightly as the silk fabric brushes against her nipples. I don't even remember walking into the damn bedroom, all I know is that I'm now standing behind her. I kiss the nape of her neck and whisper softly in her ear.

"Do they hurt?" I ask, signaling towards her nipples.

"Yeah, my period is two weeks away but they are already swollen and tender," She says.

"They must be really sensitive right now..." I reply thickly.

"Yes, they respond to any little thing that touches them."

I suppress a growl as my cock stiffens. I reach from behind and glide my thumbs down the slope of her breasts and on to their sharp peaks. She inhales slightly.

"So, if I do this...?" I ask as I capture her nipples between my thumb and index fingers. She whimpers from the slight pain but arches her back as if to ask for more.

"And what about..." I complete my thought by rapidly grazing her now taut pink buds with the palm of my hands. She purrs. I turn her around to face me. I look into her glassy eyes and drop my head so that her hard peaks are perfectly aligned with my mouth. I use the tip of my tongue to make tight circular patterns on her hardened mounds. She lets out a heavy sigh.

She knows with every lick, I am getting closer to my ultimate desire. I know she's sensitive but I need to suckle on them; right now. "I need a taste, baby, just a little taste," I plead. She whimpers with pleasure as I pop her right breast into my mouth and gently bite down.

She inhales sharply and gasps, "Oh..."

I alternate between kneading and suckling each tender mound; she groans, rakes her hands through my hair, and presses my face deeper into her chest. I slide my hands down her ribcage, around to her ass, and palm both cheeks. I then hoist her up and she wraps her legs around my hips. I walk her back towards the bed, never once disconnecting from her lips; our kissing reaches such a feverish pitch, we barely remember to take a breath.

I lay her down on the bed and yank my shirt off. Our lips were parted for only three seconds and that was three seconds too long. I want to touch as much of her as I can, for as long as I can. I want to fill up my body, my mind, and my soul with this woman; this woman only. I place my knees on either side of her and lower my mouth down to her seeking lips.

She bathes my bare chest with a series of open mouth kisses and skims her velvet tongue across my nipples, sending me into overdrive. The sensations caused by her lips, tongue, and teeth make me groan and swear under my breath. I lick, suck, and flick my way down her throat, breasts, and stomach. I glide my finger over the middle panel of her panties; it's warm, silky, and soaked all the way through.

"Christ, baby, you're so wet..." I growl as my cock expands, demanding to be released, to the point of being painful. I know that if I remove her panties completely I won't be able to stop or even slow down. I'll ram into her tender pussy like a freight train. She's writhing as I slide my hand up and down the silk panel that separates me from her swollen lips. I slide the panel off to the side and insert my middle finger deep inside her.

"Wyatt..." she sighs. Hearing her call my name summons an animalistic growl from deep within me.

Her pussy is tighter, warmer, and silkier than it was last night. The first dip my finger makes inside her makes my dick stretch past the breaking point. By the time I add a second finger, my cock is so hard, I have to unzip my jeans or fucking die. When I insert a third finger, she cries out and lift her hips to meet my thrust.

"More..." she begs. I need to take her panties off. Now.

Wyatt, you do that shit and there's no going back. Don't take them off, dickhead!

It's too late. I need her too much to stop. And she begged. My baby begged. Her pussy is soaking wet because she needs me and I sure as fuck need her. Her walls are so insanely tight they greedily trap my fingers; when I think about what they will do to my dick, I'm fucking lightheaded.

I yank my jeans off, more than ready to embed myself inside her and be one with her, in every way. But when I climb on top of her there's a slight, almost imperceptible hesitation in her body.

Damn...

I have no plans on stopping, she feels too damn good, so instead of being inside her, I part her legs even further and I glide her wet panties down her legs. She gasps as I place my face between her thighs and slide her swollen folds apart with the tip of my tongue. I drink every single drop her body yields to me, until I'm intoxicated off her juices.

"Damn baby, you taste so fucking good." I beg as I slurp and slide my way into paradise. She's panting and shaking as my tongue ignites sparks in hidden spots she didn't know she had.

When my tongue darts instead of slides, she lets out a sharp cry. I put my lips together and send out a low hum on the tip of her clit. It resonates through her entire body, causing her to arch her back high off the bed, convulse uncontrollably, and holler at the top of her lungs, "WYATTOHMYGOD!"

Her body slowly stops shaking but one quick lick from me brings a new wave of spasms. I rub her clit with my thumb so that every time she starts to gain control of her body, she's off again, headed for yet another orgasm. Finally unable to take it, she moans in an exhausted whisper, "No more, babe, please. No more." I gently kiss her overstimulated, exposed pussy and climb into bed behind her.

I wrap my arms around her and she sighs lazily as she nestles against me. She turns her head to face me; judging by her heavy eyelids, she's about to drift off to sleep. "It's never felt like this before...but what about you, why didn't you get inside me? I was so ready," she purrs as she closes her eyes.

No, you weren't ready, baby, but it's okay. You're my girl and I'll wait for you...

#

My first call this morning was to my mom, to see how Bree was coping. She's in bed and after several hours of crying, has finally fallen asleep. Lily is much better now that Mom promised her a trip to the movies where she can have anything she wants at the concession counter.

Mom isn't sure what to tell Lily about her father but I made them promise to leave that up to Bree because that's her department and they shouldn't be overstepping. I wish I could have stayed with Bree but at least I will be able to see her this weekend. When Danny cheated on me, I felt like the world was over. I can't begin to process what it's like for Bree.

I still have twenty minutes or so before I have to leave for work, so I call Jana and update her. We usually wait for updates during coffee but there's just too much going on to wait today. I tell her all about Bree and how Will ruined everything.

"I've never liked your sister like that, but I do feel bad. What the hell is Will's problem?" Jana asks over the phone.

"I don't know but how hard can it be to love the woman who has given you a child and supported you for over five years? Why are all men assholes?" I bark.

"Well come on, be fair, it's not all men, now is it?" she says, making fun of me.

"Okay, okay, Wyatt is different and while Bree has totally been consuming my thoughts, there's always space for Wyatt in my head."

"I see, and did you tell him that?" she asks.

"He knows I...like him," I reply carefully.

"Bullshit! You love him!"

"That's what Bree said the other day."

"And what did you say to her?"

"Nothing, I changed the subject."

"Well you know that won't work with me. So, are you in love or not—wait! Wrong question: are you ready to say it out loud?"

"Um...I don't know. It's crazy, right? He's amazing to me and helps me in a million ways and still..."

"It's okay, you don't have to say it out loud right now."

"I know but I should tell him something, right? I mean especially since last night..."

"Wait, what happened last night?"

"Oh, sorry. I was so busy going over the Bree situation—when we got home, he...I mean we..."

"OHMYGOD! Did you two finally have sex?!"

"No, but we were close. So damn close."

"So why didn't you?"

"I don't really know. I mean, I thought we were headed that way and then he kind of veered off course and went an alternative route."

"And do we like the alternative route?" she asks. Before I can stop myself, a moan escapes my lips. Jana laughs and says she takes that as a "yes."

"He held me like I was so fragile and priceless. He possessed me like no man had before and I wanted him so bad, I damn near cried."

"Damn, that sounds good. Where can I get that kind of guy?" She laughs.

"You can have any guy you want," I remind her.

"Throwaway guys. I mean the real thing."

"Are you saying you're tired of being single, Jana?" She remains silent.

"Jana?"

"I'm just kidding. Let me get into this shower so I can get ready."

"Okay, see you soon. Hey, Jana?"

"Yeah?"

"You're an amazing best friend and I love you," I reply. I don't know what's going on with her but it feels like she needs a boost. Since she's usually the one supporting me, I thought I'd remind her how wonderful she is and how lucky I am to know her.

***

When I pull up to the center, all the blood drains from my face. My body goes cold as shock washes over me. I get out of my car and blink several times as if what I'm seeing can't possibly be real. All the windows have been shattered, the building has been spray-painted with graffiti, and locks on the doors have been cut in half, thrown to the ground. My heart is pounding inside my chest as I run inside the center.

The hallway is littered with torn textbooks, trash, and shattered glass. I enter the nearest classroom and find all the tables and chairs overturned. Boxes of supplies have been hurled on the floor, their contents dumped out into the center of the room. I race to the other classroom and find the same chaos awaiting me.

"Shit!" I shout as I run up to the third floor and pray to God nothing has been damaged in the computer lab. I burst through the door and bite my lower lip to keep from screaming in anger. We have sixty-three computers and every one of them has been smashed, reducing them to mere paperweights.

I call Jana but I can't find the words to tell her what happened. Luckily she's only a few minutes away and will see for herself. They even got into the media room and smashed the two TVs we had. The dumped out all ten bins of snack foods and threw them everywhere. They used bats and bashed holes into the wall. By the time I discover the full extent of the damage, Jana arrives. I sit on the steps outside the center, numb.

Jana is horrified and making calls, a lot of calls. But I'm just sitting still, trying to absorb what happened. There must be thousands of dollars' worth of damage. We won't be able to repair any of it. It took so long to get those computers—we don't even have enough for all the kids and now...

I'm watching people come in and out of the center, cops in uniforms and parents who live nearby. They ask questions but I don't really hear them. I'm far away. In my head, I'm so far from this place. This must be what an out-of-body experience is like.

"WINTER, DAMN IT! DO YOU HEAR ME?!" Decker shouts.

"Huh? Yeah, yeah. I hear you," I lie. I'm not sure when he got here. Jana must have called him or gotten his number from my phone.

"The Street Kings heard about Carlos leaving today; it doesn't look good that they lost a new potential member to some after-school director."

"Carlos! Is he okay? I have to go check on him!" I reply as I stand up, only to realize my legs have somehow been turned into rubber.

"No, I sent a patrol car to check on him, he's fine," Decker says.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. He's okay. And today is when he goes to his art class, right?" he says.

"Yeah, he should be gone by tonight," I reply.

"We need you to fill out the police report while I talk to my guys in the gang unit. Okay?" Decker says.

"Everything is gone. All our supplies, all our computers, everything." He looks me over, shakes his head sadly, and pulls me in for an embrace.

"Ah...Winnie, there's someone here to see you," Jana says in a strange voice. I follow her gaze and watch as Wyatt gets out of the car, just in time to see me in Decker's arms.

***

"Sorry, I didn't know what to do. You gave me Decker's number but when I called no one picked up. So, I called Wyatt," Jana says, biting her lower lip nervously.

Wyatt's face is etched with worry as he comes towards us but there's something else written on his face—but it goes away quickly before I can gauge what it is. I pull back from Decker's embrace and as soon as he sees Wyatt, he gets this look as if he's bracing himself for something. Wyatt takes me by the shoulders and looks me over.

"Are you okay? Were you here when this happened? Did they say anything to you? Did you see anyone?" Wyatt demands.

"I'm fine—fine," I lie.

"Wyatt, I—" Decker doesn't get to say another word before Wyatt glares at him and marches into the center. He surveys the damage and begins to give orders. He sends some of the uniformed cops to canvass the neighborhood for witnesses while others chronicle the damage. While I watch him work, I'm struck by how in control he is and how much those around him respect him. He's commanding, knowledgeable, and has an undeniable authority.

"Hunt, take a look at this," one of the officers says as they show him a file cabinet. All the staff files have been pulled out and thrown on the floor. "According to Ms. Bennett, there are twelve people working at the center. We found eleven staff files."

"Shit..." Wyatt hisses as he takes me aside.

"What is it, what does that mean?" I ask.

"They kept your file, they are not done with you."

"You're saying I can't go home tonight?" I ask, in disbelief.

"I'm saying you can't go home—period."

"Wait, no...I can't just leave my home," I plead.

"You don't have a choice until we find the guys that did this."

"What about my things?"

"Look I'll have a patrol car swing by," Decker says. Wyatt's jaw tightens when Decker enters the room.

"I need to talk to you," Decker says.

"Not now you don't," Wyatt replies as he marches away. Decker takes off after him. I race behind Decker, fearing the two are about to get into a huge argument that is all my fault.

"Look, let me explain," Decker offers. Wyatt is livid now and turns to face his partner.

"She doesn't know what these guys are capable of, she's a civilian. But you know this shit! You know what can happen when a gang wants to make their mark. You let her walk around with no protection and no security whatsoever. She works late all the time, she could have been here when they did this. You have been hiding this shit from me for God knows how long, what the fuck is wrong with you?"

"We had it under control, Wyatt. We just didn't—"

"Under control? Does this shit look like it's under control?" he barks.

"She wanted to tell you in her own time—

"I don't give a damn what she wanted. You're a cop, you know what's out there. This was about her safety. You fucked it up!"

"Look, man, you don't get it—"

"NO! YOU DON'T FUCKING GET IT! SHE COULD HAVE BEEN HERE WHEN THIS SHIT WENT DOWN! SHE COULD HAVE BEEN...JUST STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!"

***

Wyatt can't stop glaring at me. I've never seen him this pissed off before. He does, however, handle what needs to be done in terms of the case. He makes sure everyone is doing his or her job, and that there's an accurate record of the damage. I am finally out of my haze, and I help Jana contact all the kids from after school and tell them we will be closed for at least a week. I call a few other programs like mine and beg them to take my kids for the week. Thankfully they agree and some even offer to keep them for two weeks if need be. I thank the staff for their help in getting the word out that we will be closed, and I promise to pay them for the week we are shut down.

Jana offers to stay with me if I need it but she looks worn out, and so I ask Decker to please take her home. I also tell him how sorry I am that I caused such a huge rift between him and Wyatt. He says he's sure they'll work it out. I wish I could be as certain. I ask Wyatt to please drive me to Carlos's house so I can say good-bye to him.

Carlos tells me he's sorry for what happened at the center and I tell him the only way to make it up to me is for him to do his best in the art class and stay away from his new friends. And for the first time since this whole thing began, I think he really hears me. I hug him. It embarrasses him but I do it anyway. I watch as the bus headed upstate pulls up across the street from the group home. I'm weak with relief as I watch him get on the bus and on the road, away from the Street Kings.

Wyatt has been waiting for me in the car. He hasn't said anything since he blew up at Decker. I know that he really wants to blow up at me. The fact is, Decker was just doing what I told him. If it's anyone's fault, it's mine. My center is closed, our kids are displaced, the repair bill will be sky high, and I've ruined the friendship between Wyatt and Decker. I steal a glance in his direction and there's no mistaking the look on his face—Wyatt hates me right now.

He arranged for a female officer to get some of my clothes from my place. They're now in the back of his trunk. When he gets to his place, he gets my suitcase and takes it upstairs. All the while not saying a word to me.

Okay, I am not going to just bitch and moan about Wyatt being mad. I can fix this. Everything else is screwed up right now but not this, I can fix this. Okay, here goes nothing.

I enter the kitchen, where he's just downed a bottle of beer in three big gulps. His jaw is tense, his arms are folded tightly across his broad, muscular chest. God, even when he's pissed off, he's sexy. Or especially when he's pissed.

This is not a game, Winter! This man has really had it with you! Word...words...how do I find the right words to say?

"Wyatt, I wasn't trying to keep this from you," I venture.

"That's funny because that's exactly what happened," he replies.

"I know. I was gonna bring it up but it was never the right time. And I thought that once Carlos was gone, they'd just forget about it," I admit.

"Do you understand what you did? You threatened a gang that goes out of its way to be noticed. A gang that's new and has something to prove."

"I know, it was stupid."

"No, it's more than that. There are guys on that crew who are one violation away from going in for life! Do you know what they would do to you if they thought for a second that you could get them sent back to prison? They have enemies whose bodies we have yet to find. What the hell were you thinking, Winter?!"

"I'm sorry!"

"Yeah, I'm sorry too. Because not only did you put yourself at risk, you are not doing Carlos any favors by shielding him from having to make a decision."

"You think I should throw him out to the wolves?" I counter.

"No! But you can't make his decisions for him. You have to show him what gang life is really like. He has no idea. You could have asked me. I could have talked to him. I could have at least tried to reach him but instead—"

"Yeah, I know. Instead I tried to handle it on my own."

"And when that didn't work, you didn't come to me. You went to Decker," he said, sounding just as hurt as he is pissed off.

"I didn't want to bother you."

He places his hands on the rim of kitchen sink behind him and hangs his head in a mix of frustration and anger.

"I know it sounds silly, but you've already done so much for me, so...I didn't want to push it," I admit.

"I'm not sure if you're just lying to me or if you're lying to yourself too."

"What does that mean?" I demand.

"The reason you didn't come to me and tell me about this has nothing to do with you not wanting to bother me. It has nothing to do with how much I do or did not do for you."

"You seem to have a theory, Mr. Hunt. You wanna share with the class?" I ask.

"Yeah, sure. Here's my theory. You're afraid of letting me in your life in any real way, so much so that you would rather go to anyone else for help. That way you can put yet another wall between us."

"Hey, that's not fair! That's not what—" The doorbell rings in the middle of my reply.

"ARGH! Who the hell is it?" Wyatt barks as he marches up to the door and looks in the peephole.

"You gotta be kidding me," I grumble as he opens the door. Standing in the doorway are all my staff members. They come bearing pizza and beers. Standing at the head of the small mob is Jana.

"Look, we all know how much today sucked for you, so we wanted to cheer you up. And I know you won't mind, right Wyatt?" Jana says, giving him her best sweet smile. He looks over at me, and I can see he's far from happy. In fact, he's even more frustrated than when we first came in the house.

"Guys, thank you for coming but I don't think we should take over Wyatt's home like this," I reply as I look over at him.

"It's fine. Come in," he says, stepping aside so they can all enter. As the group looks around and marvels at the layout of the apartment, Wyatt grabs his jacket and heads out the door. I open the door and call out after him as the crowd starts to gab in the background.

"Wyatt, wait!"

"I...I need some air..."

#

I'm standing alone in the hallway, watching as Wyatt disappears down the stairs. Seeing him this upset causes a wave of panic in me that I didn't see coming. Jana appears next to me a few moments later.

"I'm sorry, I thought you guys would have fixed it already. So you told him you were sorry for trying to keep him at bay and that you love him, but he still stormed out? Maybe he just needs some time," she says with her hand on my shoulder.

"I didn't exactly say all of that," I mumble.

"Wait, what exactly did you say?"

"I told him that I wasn't trying to hide things from him."

"So you lied."

"No...okay maybe. Argh! I know I should have told him but it was my issue to fix."

Jana looks over at me, rolls her eyes, shakes her head, and starts to walk away. I reach out to her and ask, "What is that look supposed to mean?"

"Forget it. I'm gonna get everyone and maybe we'll go down to the bar on the corner. We'll get out of your way," she says, clearly annoyed.

"You're not in my way. You're my best friend, and if you have something to say, I want to hear it."

"Trust me, Winnie, you don't," she says as she starts to walk away. I stop her once again. She sighs loudly and pulls on her bottom lip. She always does that when she's trying to stop herself from blowing up on someone. It never works.

"Jana, say what you have to say. I want to hear it," I push.

"Okay, here goes: I love you very much, but right now, you're being so fucking stupid, I could wring your damn neck!"

"What? Jana, you don't get it, I—"

"No! You wanted to hear my thoughts, so here it goes: Wyatt could have any fucking woman he wants; we both know that. But instead of chasing mindless women whose shoe size matches their IQ, he has chosen you. That makes him a smart man because you're wonderful. Or at least you would be if you would just stop letting Danny get in your head."

"This isn't about Danny!" I protest.

"Bullshit, everything is about Danny, and it's not fair to Wyatt. I know Danny hurt you; I was there. And I get wanting to be guarded but when you find a guy like Wyatt, if you're lucky enough, you take down your fucking walls, even if it's piece by piece. But that's not what you're doing. Instead of working to tear them down, you keep making them higher and higher."

"That's not true. I have been open with Wyatt. I practically live in his house."

"He's not asking you to live in his house, he's asking you to let him in. And you know what, he has a right to be pissed off. Can't you see what's happening?"

"Apparently I'm missing it. So, why don't explain it to me?" I reply as I cross my hands over my chest and try to stay calm.

"It's really simple: You're blowing it. That guy who just marched out of his own house and let you take over, that guy is the guy you should happily let in your heart. That guy would move fucking mountains for you."

"I didn't ask him to do anything for me."

"Argh! That's just it—you don't have to ask him; if it's for you, he'll do anything. Anything for love, that's who he is when it comes to you."

"I know that he loves—"

"Well you don't act like you know. C'mon, Winter, do you have any idea how much pussy that guy gets offered? But he doesn't care about that. He only cares about being with you. He's a nightly guest at the 'Blue Balls' Inn because he's waiting on you."

"So if I don't fuck him then I'm blowing it?"

"Sex would be greatly appreciated but if you are not ready, fine, but how about giving the man a goddamn key? How about telling him when your life is in danger and not going behind his back to his friend?"

"Hey, you knew I was doing that. You can't throw that in my face."

"Yeah, I knew you were hiding it from him but I hoped it was for a day or two. I thought you'd come to your senses. But you never did. Why are you trying to screw this up? Not everyone gets to be in love. Some of us are kept outside the gates and all we get to do is look in. Meanwhile you've been granted full access to love and everything that comes with it and you're blowing it! You are letting Danny cast a damn shadow over everything."

"I'm sorry that I'm not running my love life the way you want me to."

"Yeah, me too. Because maybe if you take five seconds and look at what you have, you wouldn't be so quick to throw it away."

"I know what I have."

"No you don't! If you did you wouldn't have sent a sweet, caring, intelligent, hot piece of ass out into the cold for other women to pounce on. For God's sake, he raced in to help with the Will drama, he's put up with all the roadblocks you put in place, and he's doing it all with a smile because he's just happy to be around you.

"And how do you repay him? You don't tell him you love him, although everyone knows you do. You keep him in the dark about major happenings in your life and you lie when he confronts you. I mean, for the love of God, tell me you've at least given him a decent blow job."

"Are you serious? Look, not all of us measure love with our tongues, okay?"

"Right, so I'm wrong because all I talk about is sex and sex acts. I'm the foolish whore in your book. The one who only knows about sex and has no concept of love."

"I didn't say that."

"No but your tone did. And you know what, maybe you're right. Maybe I'm just a 'good time' chick who doesn't know the first thing about being in love or being in a relationship. But there is something I know a lot about—making stupid mistakes. And you letting that man walk out of here thinking you don't give a damn about him—that's a big fucking mistake."

***

Jana gets her stuff and leaves. I try to stop her but she says she wants to go home and get some rest. So tonight I'm an awful girlfriend and also a horrible friend. I would follow her but I have no idea what to say. Jana's right about everything. She usually is, but I know this is about more than just Wyatt and me. There's something else going on and I will find out what it is but now is not the time. This day has felt more like a year. Why, oh why, can't today just end already?

I lean on the wall for support and bury my face in the palm of my hands. I can feel a headache creeping in. It's behind my right eye and chances are in the next hour or so it will advance and be a full-on migraine.

That's perfect. Just fucking perfect.

I close my eyes and rant, "Fuck me!" as I rake my hands through my hair.

"Can't now, sweetheart; rain check?" a deep booming male voice replies. I open my eyes and practically jump out of my skin. There's a man standing directly across from me. I didn't even hear the elevator door open. This guy is over six feet tall, exquisitely muscular, with searing blue-gray eyes, mid-length dirty blond hair, and five-day-old stubble that only adds to his sexy "just-out-bed-and-I-don't-give-fuck" look.

"Who the hell are you?" I ask, standing up straight, now on high alert.

"You're in front of my brother's place, sweetheart, so I think the question is, who the hell are you?" he says pointedly. He's Wyatt's brother? Wow, what the hell did they put in that gene pool and can I please have some?

Seriously, Winter?

"Hi, I'm Winter."

"Oh, yeah...'the pause,'" he replies as he rakes over me with his eyes.

"That's actually not my name but—sure, okay. So you're one of Wyatt's brothers? Are you the one who's married to Shelby?"

"Fuck no! Life's way too short for that."

"Yeah, she's something else. So who are you—I mean, what's your name?"

"Logan."

Of course it is.

"So, no one in your family believes in calling first, huh?" I mumble to myself. He grins. Damn that smile is hot.

"You're kind of a smart ass and you have a nice ass. So yeah, I get it."

"Get what?"

"I get why 'the pause' happens when he talks about you," Logan adds.

"That's very rude."

"Yeah, that's me."

"I don't think Wyatt would appreciate the way you're talking to me. In fact, neither do I. So change your tone or get the hell out."

"Yup, I can totally see it," he says, looking me over yet again, this time with a smile of approval.

"Do you have a message for him?" I ask, wanting this to be over.

"Yeah, tell him I'm headed out of the country, so I can't make it this year; he's up."

"Will he know what the last part means?"

"Yeah, he'll know."

"Okay, I will let him know," I promise. He wants to leave yet he remains standing where he is. I can see him struggle with what he's about to say.

"Shelby said you were...you know, a good girl and shit. Is that true?"

"Um...yeah, I guess. I mean, I don't think I've earned the amazing dinners he made me or apparently any of the good things he's done for me, according to my best friend, but I'd like to think I'm good to him. Or not. Look, I don't know. You have caught me on a really odd day," I admit as I get more and more flustered. He looks at me as if I've somehow revealed something scandalous and beyond belief.

"What is it?" I ask, getting annoyed.

"Wyatt cooked for you?" he asks incredulously.

"Yeah, why is that such a big deal with you people?" I beg. His eyes soften and suddenly this big, tall, looming hunk of sexy "badass" guy is hugging me. It takes a few moments but eventually I hug him back because, well, it's rude otherwise, right?

When he steps out of the embrace, his tone hardens and he looks into my eyes and warns, "Look here, sweetheart, you seem nice and everything and I hope to God you are. But you hurt my kid brother and I'm coming for you."

Yeah, you're way too late for that.

He nods briskly and sprints to the elevator. Macy enters the hallway and purrs as she watches the elevator door close on him.

"Wow, who the hell was that and can I have some?" she says. I roll my eyes and push her nosy ass back inside.

I need a drink or three; right now!

#

For the record I have no fucking idea where I'm headed. All I know is that I can't be home right now. When I hit the street, my anger comes with me. It keeps my body from really registering just how fucking cold it is outside. But trust me, it's freezing. New Yorkers quickly make their way to their destinations as the wind whips past them. They are bundled up in scarfs, hats, and thick coats: none of which seem to make a difference against the bitter cold.

I don't think about which direction I'm going; I just go. I walk fast and cut through the crowd as if I have a place to go. But I'm not walking to get somewhere, I'm trying to "out walk" all the shit I feel. I'm good with being angry because that'll pass. But the other stuff, the questions, they won't go away.

How could she keep the Street Kings situation from me? She had plenty of chances to tell me what was going on, if she didn't it's because she didn't want to. Does that mean she isn't letting me in right now or she isn't letting me in ever? I know her ex did some fucked-up shit to her, but how long is she going to cast me in that asshole's shadow? I thought she needed time but maybe it's more than that?

I told her I love her and God knows I do but she has yet to say it back. I always thought it was a matter of her working up the courage but maybe I was wrong. Maybe she hasn't said it because she doesn't feel that way. Maybe I'm pushing her in a direction she really doesn't want to go.

FUCK!

I know this is fast for her, that shit was fast for me too. I have never wanted a woman with the intensity that I want Winter. I barely date women. I find one I like; we fuck and we move on. I don't make promises. I don't lie and tell them I feel things that I don't. I'm open about wanting to stay casual and needing to stay focused on work.

I can't remember the last time I thought about someone as much as I do Winter. The hold she has on me is thrilling but also scary as hell. I'm falling so hard and so goddamn fast; it's all I can do to hold on. But all of that was worthwhile because I knew she was falling too. We were in the same whirlwind, for better or worse, but maybe I was wrong.

Maybe I'm in love by myself...

The thought that Winter may not feel what I feel for her hits me like a heated blade through the chest; it fucking burns. And when I think of her going to another guy for help, it's like that blade is twisting and digging deeper into me.

My anger returns and this time it's aimed at Decker. He knew better than to keep that shit from me. That's not how partners work. She must have felt some kind of connection to go to him, though. It's not like she went to just any random cop, she went to him. Is she trying to tell me something? Are they trying to tell me something?

I'm pretty sure there's nothing going on between them but I've been wrong before. Wrong or not, I need to know for sure. I guess in the back of my mind, I was always headed to Decker's place because when I look up, I'm on his street.

***

When he opens the door and sees me standing there, glaring at him, he knows right away why I came. "If you're going to beat the crap out of me, be a decent guy and do it in the kitchen near the cold beers," he says as he opens the door wider and heads back inside. I follow him into his relatively new apartment, where he's surrounded by boxes. He makes his way to the kitchen and I follow.

"Is there something going on with you two? I need to know that shit and don't you fucking lie to me," I threaten.

"C'mon, Hunt, if you really thought there was really something going on with us, we would have been having this conversation in the ER," he says as he hands me a cold beer. I stare him down angrily. I'm looking for any sign that my partner has betrayed me and there isn't any. My gut tells me he's not the problem. But then I think I already knew that. I take the beer from him and down it quickly. He hands me another one.

"Don't just stand there looking pretty, help me with this shit," Decker says as he walks into one of two bedrooms. In the middle of the room stands a stack of white plywood, bags of screws, and tools.

"What's it supposed to be?" I ask.

"I need to set up a dresser for Mia so she can have somewhere to put her stuff when she's staying with me. She picked this out, and if I ever get my fucking hands on the guy who constructed it, I'm send him to his grave," he vows.

"What does she think of your new place?"

"She's glad she has her own room and she's excited to decorate it. I want to have it ready for when she comes down again. Karen's new house is like a fucking castle. And Mia loves it. Then she comes down here and has this tiny apartment and...I want to make it nice for her."

"You got a good kid, she's easygoing. You know that."

"Yeah thank God for that. I couldn't compete with all the shit Nathan is buying her," he says.

"Who the fuck is Nathan?"

"Karen's new boyfriend. He owns a golf course, wears khakis, and drinks imported beers. Dick," Decker scoffs.

"Wow..."

"Yeah, and according to Karen, Nathan has a 'decent job that lets him keep decent hours,'" he says, mocking his wife's voice. He picks up a nearby hammer and starts to pound a nail that refuses to go any further into the wood.

He goes on, "What the fuck is that supposed to mean? She thinks I enjoy busting my ass at one in the morning trying to find some lowlife who just put a bullet into some poor store clerk? I'm a goddamn cop and sometimes I can't control what time I work or for how long. But unlike her golf asshole boyfriend, what I do matters!"

"I'm gonna take that hammer from you and maybe you stand over there, away from the sharp objects," I reply as I start sorting out the tools to put the dresser together.

"How long has she been dating this guy?" I ask after what I hope is time enough for him to calm down.

"Three months."

"Is it serious?"

"I don't know. He can have Karen and all the bullshit that comes with knowing her. If the neighbors' house is bigger than ours, it's an issue. If one of her friends gets a nice gift from their husband, I gotta hear about it. Because obviously keeping up with the fucking Joneses should be top priority. She wants this Nathan guy, she can have him. But I won't let him raise my kid. That little girl is my life."

"You won't lose Mia."

"That's just it, I could. I could lose her. And I don't know how I would deal with that shit."

"You'll get your new place set up and Mia will love her room. And that judge will see how crazy she is about you and grant you joint custody," I assure him.

I hope to God what I'm saying is true. Decker and Mia are the closest father and daughter I know. I'd like to think I'd have that kind of closeness with my own kid someday. I think somewhere way in the back of my head, I kind of pictured my kid with Winter's eyes.

Winter...

The weight of the past few hours is suddenly bearing down on me. I try to avoid feeling anything and focus on the task of putting a dresser together for my favorite athlete.

"I know the part where you came here to kick my ass but what happened before that?" he asks carefully. I shrug and remain silent as I continue to work.

"C'mon, what happened?" he pushes.

"What happened is you allowed her to put herself in harm's way," I remind him.

"I watched that crew myself in addition to having some of my buddies patrol the area. It wasn't enough, that's on me. I'm sorry about that. Are we good, man, or what?" he says.

I don't want to accept his apology but the truth is I know he would never let anything happen to Winter. I also know that the possibility of losing custody of his little girl is twisting his insides out. The last thing I want to do is add to that shit.

"Fine, but next time you keep something like this from me, I'm shooting you in the fucking balls."

"Good luck, Karen's trying to get those in the divorce," he replies.

I chuckle and shake my head. "Do some work for God's sake, and get me another beer," I order as I reach for the bag of screws.

A little while later, we're all done and the dresser has been perfectly assembled. We had time to set up the matching bed, and now Mia's room is starting to come together. I set out to the living room, beer in hand.

"You going home now?" he asks.

"No idea," I admit.

"Did you try and talk to her?" Decker asks.

"Yeah and according to her, she didn't want to tell me because she didn't want to bother me."

"Okay, look. I know this is none of my business. But I'm your partner and I'm gonna say what the fuck I need to say," he informs me as he takes a swig of beer. "I don't know why she didn't come to you but it has nothing to do with her wanting to connect with me. She knows you trust me and she knew she could do the same. Again, I don't know Winter but I think she's got a past."

"How do you know?"

"Man, it's not hard to see. She's hot, she's smart, and she could be out running around like crazy but instead, she's spending ten to the twelve hours at work and going home alone. Someone, somewhere, did some shit to her and she's closed herself off. I don't know what that is and you don't have to tell me. But what happened to her in the past, how bad was it?"

"Bad..." I reply, trying not to get worked up about her asshole ex-boyfriend.

"Okay, so she spent a lot of time figuring out ways to keep people out—maybe she's still working on the whole 'let down your guard' thing," he suggests.

"Maybe."

"Did you really cook for her?" he accuses. I nod slightly.

"Then you know where she stands with you. So go home and find out where the fuck you stand with her. Although, I think I already know."

"How's that?" I push.

"I was married for six years, and if my wife looked at me, just once, the way Winter looks at you...we wouldn't need divorce lawyers."

***

I hear the key in the door and look over at the alarm clock by the bed. It's 2:13 in the morning. My staff left a few hours ago, and I tried to act like my world wasn't falling apart. I cleaned up the kitchen, put the leftover pizzas in the fridge, tidied up the living room, and took a shower. I lay in bed, in the dark, knowing I wouldn't be able to sleep until he came back. Since it's his house, I was sure he'd come back. But that's the only thing I was sure about.

I play out different scenarios in my head of what will happen now that he's back. In one version, he throws me out of his house—it seems unlikely but right now, with my luck, it could happen. In a different version, he tells me it's been swell but he's changed his mind about us. I also have a third version where he comes home and he's okay with everything and he doesn't hate me. But that version also has cartoon birds that land on my shoulder and sing; so needless to say, it's a little far-fetched.

I'm glad he's back, I've been counting the minutes, but now that I actually hear him at the door, I pray to God for a little more time. But that's not how this stuff goes, so I hop out of bed and walk in just in time to see him enter. I can't think of what to say so my mouth is working without my mind. Great. All I can do is hope for the best.

"Hi," I greet him, hoping to God I sound casual.

"Hey," he says in a small whisper.

"If you're hungry there's some pizzas in the fridge. And if you like pineapple, it's your lucky night," I reply.

"I'm not hungry."

"Oh, okay." He hangs his jacket up and heads to the kitchen, where he downs a bottle of water. I follow him and watch as he drinks.

"There's also breadsticks—you know, the cheesy kind. I don't really know why they bother, I mean it's basically the same as pizza too, you know," I blurt out before I can stop myself.

"Oh and there's some pizza cookie thing. It's really just a large chocolate chip cookie that they make and call it a pizza. You know, like cookie pizza?" Oh my god! Winter, shut up! Shut up, shut up!

"Anyway, they also have that if you want something sweet," I conclude.

Dear God, if you can somehow keep me from making an even bigger fool of myself than I have already, I promise I will never ask for another thing as long as I live...

"Thanks, but I'm really not hungry. I'm just gonna take a shower and go to sleep. Unless...did you need something?"

I need you.

"Nah, I'm good," I lie as I swallow hard.

"Good," he replies as he heads for the shower. I enter the bedroom and close the door behind me. Shit! He's still pissed and what's worse, he sounds...distant. Like his mind is somewhere else. A thought hits me, a sad, awful thought that makes me sit on the edge of the bed, in deep sorrow.

What if Wyatt's done with me?

No! Winter, you always overthink things and make them a thousand times worse in your head. The two of you just had an argument. That's it. And just because arguments with Danny always lasted days doesn't mean that is the case here. He's just tired and wants to go to bed. That's not too much to ask for, right?

Bed...

Wait! Okay, I can fix everything in bed. Now, I'm not saying I'm freaking Rihanna in bed or anything but maybe if I cuddle up to him and place my hand on all the right places...crap, do I know all the right places?

You'll figure it out as you go along! Now go get sexy!

I look through my suitcase, and the female patrol officer who packed my things must be sent from heaven. She packed some of my favorite lingerie. It's a black sheer baby doll with a small red bow in the center. If he gives the bow one good tug, it opens the top right up. I put it on, take my hair down, and wait.

You know how moms get that super adrenaline rush when their kids are in harm's way and they can somehow muster up like a million times their strength? Is it possible that seduction skills work the same way? What I mean is, does the fact that I really need to seduce Wyatt somehow kick all my "sexy know-how" into high gear? God, I hope it does.

I hear the water turn off. My heart is racing and my hands are suddenly cold as ice. Shit! Cold hands are not sexy! I quickly cup my hands around my mouth and blow into them. Okay, better. I rush over to the other side of the bedroom, where I threw my purse. I look in the inside pocket and find the small perfume bottle I keep for emergencies. I spray a little on myself and run back to the bed.

I hear footsteps; I quickly perch myself on top of the bed. But at the last moment, I grab the magazine by the nightstand and pretend to be glancing at it. That way I won't look so...posed.

Okay, I'm ready, baby!

But the footsteps don't get louder. In fact, they sound further and further away. Soon they stop and I don't hear anything. Did he go to the kitchen to get some water? I get up, open the bedroom door, and look out. I see Wyatt throwing a blanket on the sofa, along with a pillow. He lies down on the sofa and closes his eyes.

Wow, we really are over...

#

I already know she's standing above me because I inhale her fragrant scent even before I open my eyes. It's been less than fifteen minutes or so since I lay down to sleep on the sofa, and now, I'm awake to find her kneeling in front of me. The light from the street bathes part of the living room and illuminates her face; God, she's beautiful.

"What is it? What's wrong?" I ask.

"You're sleeping on the sofa. I drove you away from your own bed, in your own house," she says, clearly upset.

"No, it's not like that. I just figured maybe you wanted your space," I reply.

"No, I don't want space from you."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Very," she says in a firm tone. I sigh and start to say something but then decide against it. She reads my hesitation.

"Wyatt, please talk to me. Tell me what's on your mind," she insists. It's not that I don't want to talk, I'm just not sure I will want to hear her responses. What if my suspicions are true and this thing only goes one way? Normally I'd never be so off the mark but when it comes to Bright Eyes, there is no normal.

"I thought that you had issues trusting guys but then when you went to Decker..."

"I made it seem like I trusted him and not you," she concludes to herself.

"I don't know what else to make of it," I admit.

"The reason I didn't go to you is because I needed you. And that need scared the shit out of me."

"Yeah, I get that. I do. But...Decker..."

"There is nothing between the two of us. He's a good guy who tried to help me out. It's you that I keep thinking about. It's you that makes my stomach flip when you enter a room. And when my phone rings, and I see that it's you on the other line...I feel like I won something. Something wonderful."

"It's the exact same thing for me but I just don't want to push you into something you're not ready for. I'd hate to be that guy with you. I need to know, am I in this thing alone?"

"My locksmith thinks I have a crush on him," she says.

"What?"

"He's about seventy-two, bald, and has a glass eye. He thinks I like him because I keep coming into his shop to remake the same key over and over again. He thinks I'm using it as an excuse to see him."

"I don't get it, why are you going there so much?"

"I made you a key a while ago. Then I threw it away because I thought you'd think I was being pushy. But then you gave me a key and I had another one made. Then I got freaked out and threw it out. Only to go back and get it copied again."

"Wow, and how many times...?"

"Let's put it this way: I might need to take out a loan to pay off my locksmith."

"Aw, babe! That's crazy," I reply, unable to suppress a smile. "Why didn't you just have one made and give it to me when you're ready?" I ask.

"I'm ready," she says, handing me a shiny silver key.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I am. If you still want it—it's yours," she says sincerely.

"I do want it, babe, but for us to work, you have to talk to me. You have to be able to trust me and I have to be able to trust you."

"I know that, but you have to believe I'm trying, I really am."

"I know. And look, I'm not saying you have to get over your past in one day but we have to deal with that together. You can't go to someone else—another guy—for help. I'm not gonna lie, baby, that shit really fucking hurt."

"I know. I'm sorry. From now on, it's the two of us," she says, taking my hand in hers.

"And it's okay if that freaks you out, just tell me so we face it, don't hide."

"Deal," she assures me.

"And please, please don't confront any more gang members. My heart can't take that shit," I inform her.

She laughs. "I promise," she says, looking into my eyes.

"You should get some rest, babe, it's after midnight."

"Argh, damn it," she says.

"What is it?"

"I was supposed to call Bree and check on her before she went to bed but in the chaos, I forgot. She probably thinks I abandoned her."

"It's okay, I called her earlier. She's good—considering."

"Wait, you called Bree?"

"Yeah, we exchanged numbers back at her house. I just called to see if she needed anything. We talked for about twenty minutes; she's a tough chick. I like her."

"You called to check on my sister?"

"Yeah, she's important to you, so she's important to me," I reply. Her eyes narrow and she looks at me as if it's the very first time she's seen me. "What's wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?" I ask.

"You're a good guy." She says it mostly to herself. Then she looks deeply into my eyes again and speaks in the sultriest voice I've ever heard. "Mr. Hunt, I'm gonna need you to lie back."

Before I know what's happening, she gets on the sofa and straddles me. She lays her body on mine and rains down a series of hungry, slick kisses on my mouth. I greedily accept her offering. Her ravenous mouth sucks on my tongue with the fury of a hurricane. I growl and thank god I didn't go to bed with a shirt on.

She bathes me with her lips and makes my cock stiffen in a matter of seconds. I hiss as she curls her tongue around my nipples, sucks and licks them in a feverish frenzy. I go to take her sheer lingerie off but she slaps my hands away. "You're taking the night off, Mr. Hunt. Sit back. Relax. I got this."

She pins my arms under my head and warns me not to move from that position. I watch her make a trail of kisses down my body; she glides her lips over the spot right above my crotch and ignites all my nerve endings. She nibbles on my inner thigh with her soft lips and makes me groan with anticipation. My dick stands erect, ready for the same attention.

She makes her way between my legs and she wraps her hand around the base of my shaft. My cock's too thick for her fingers to meet and too long for her to take in without strategically repositioning her mouth. I'm thinking she'll be overwhelmed and will most likely hesitate. I am wrong. I am so fucking wrong. She grabs a firm hold of my member like it's her property. She stares down at my dick like it's an unruly beast she's about to tame. She opens up and takes my cock so far into her mouth, I can feel the warm lining of the back of her throat.

Christ, that feels good...

Just being in her mouth makes me pant and groan like crazy. But when my baby starts sucking, sliding and slurping up and down my dick, I can't keep still. Her rhythm is so good it slows down time. She starts from the underside of my dick and works her way up and around to my tip; she's licking her favorite ice cream. She cups my balls between her fingers and massages them as she claims my cock.

"Ohfuckohfuck." I groan as my hips push forward to get even more of me into her mouth. She doesn't shy away; she moves her head with rhythm, authority, and skill. I've never been this fucking hard before—never.

It's not just how good it feels in her mouth; it's her desire to please me that's got me so hard I could fucking weep. She moves her lips, tongue, and fingers like I am the only thing in her world. I groan as she sets my whole fucking body on fire with her mouth.

I grab her hair and wrap my fingers around her long stands. She ensnares the tip of my dick with her tongue; drops of liquid ooze out and makes their way to the surface. She glides it on her lips like it's lip gloss.

"Oh, you're so fucking dangerous, baby...shit!" I moan as my world spins off its fucking axis. She doesn't stop, or even slow down. She mercilessly conquers every fucking part of me until I can't take it and am forced to sit up and beg, beg her for mercy.

"FUUUUUCK!" I growl as I sit up and hold on to her for dear life. My body is convulsing out of control as she takes in every inch of me. I can feel an ocean of lust and longing about to shoot out of me. "Ba-baby, I'm coming." I give her a chance to pull away, but she doesn't. She sucks even harder and opens her mouth wider. "Winnie baby, shit!" I cry out as a warm surge shoots out of me and into her awaiting mouth.

Exhausted and thoroughly milked, I collapse back onto the sofa, taking her with me. I pull her up so that she is on top of me, and we are once again face to face. There's a knock on the door, and she motions to get up and go answer it.

"No." I groan as I tuck her head under my chin and pull her into me. I wrap my arms around her with what little strength I have left.

"Wyatt, someone's at the door. Don't you wanna know who it is?" she purrs.

"I don't give a fuck who's out there. My whole world is in here..."

#

The person at the door turned out to be Logan, we found out a few hours later. He came around and knocked again, and this time Wyatt was home. The two of them talked outside in the hallway for a few moments and then he was off. I can't wait for Wyatt to come back inside so I can try to get him to talk about whatever is making him look so sullen.

"I thought Logan was gone already," I begin.

"He's on his way out of town, now."

"Where's he headed?"

"You never know with Logan."

"Were you two arguing? You looked really upset when you first came back in the house," I reply.

"No...we're not arguing," he says as he goes back to slicing into the veggies he's prepping for dinner. I place my hand on top of his and take the knife away. I don't say anything—I don't need to. He knows we have to talk and he knows that I'm listening. So I take out two beers, hand him one, and sit across the counter, waiting for him to find the words. I know what's that like, it's not fun at all. He starts to drink his beer and by the time he's ready to talk, nearly all of it is gone.

"Every year on Rose's birthday, one of us goes with my mom to see her grave and to pay our respects. Then we take her out to dinner at Rose's favorite restaurant and...everyone has gone to Rose's grave but me. And Logan thinks this year it should be me that takes my mom. He's on assignment out of the country, and everyone else is pushing for me to go with her."

"How often do you visit Rose's grave?" I ask.

"Never."

"Wyatt..."

"I can't, okay?! I can't think of her like that—in the cold ground. Sometimes I miss her so much fucking the only thing that gives me any peace is thinking she's just out of town or away for a while. If I go to her grave...then she's dead."

I feel my chest tighten and a lump forms in my throat. I reach and place both of his hands inside mine. "Baby, she is dead. Pretending doesn't change that."

"That's just the half of it. Taking my mom there, watching her break down...I can't do that," he says as he walks away and heads to the bedroom. I follow and find him sitting on the edge of the bed, with his head down. I sit next to him and remain silent until he's ready to talk again.

"Rose had such a big mouth. I can't tell you how many times she would tell on us and get us in trouble. She wanted to tag along when we were kids and we had to take her with us or we didn't get to go. Man, we hated that. But no matter how much we pushed her away she'd come back fighting. She never let us make her feel like she was too weak, too fragile, even though we were all three times her size. She was quick with a dirty joke, quick with an insult and laugh. She had a really good laugh, that kind that makes you want to join hands.

"And the guys would come for her and we always blocked them. In fact, you even so much as look at our baby sister and we'd punch your damn face in. She complained to Mom that if we didn't stop she'd have to go into the nunnery. We said that's right because she was never ever gonna get laid; not on our watch. No guy was allowed to touch her. We made her dating life hell. But I think she secretly loved it. She knew we had her back no matter what."

"Aw, that poor girl! Having to put up with you and the rest of your brothers. If any of them are like Logan, that poor girl deserved a medal," I reply.

He laughs. "She gave as good as she got. Growing up, Logan had a thing for this girl on our block; her name was Jessica. All he wanted was to go out with her, that was his dream girl. A few weeks prior, Logan had scared away this guy that Rose really, really liked. She waited like three months for him to ask her out. And then Logan scared him away by threatening to kick his ass if he even showed up for his date with Rose.

"Rose sat back and carefully panned her revenge. Logan was on punishment for skipping class, and had to volunteer at a free clinic in Brooklyn. Rose convinced Jessica that Logan was there so much because he had caught an STD that had yet to be identified yet. She'd find these obscure illnesses and convince Jessica that Logan had them.

Jessica stopped returning his calls and I swear not one girl would agree to go out with him. Logan didn't get laid for like a year and no one could figure out why. When it came out, he chased Rose down the block with the nearest object he could find—an ice cream scooper. He threatened to lobotomize her. Jessica added his name to all these crazy mailing lists at the free clinic. And at least once a year Logan would get these STD pamphlets. Last year, he got one for bubonic plague!" he says, unable to contain his laughter. I join him, loving how his little sister got her revenge. When the laughter dies down, he inhales deeply and looks into my eyes. God these eyes...

"I haven't thought about that in years," he admits.

"That's just it, Wyatt, Rose had a full life and by going to see the grave you relive not just the bad but also the good. She only dies if you keep stories like that about her to yourself. You guys loved her, give life to her memory. Remember her.

That way she's never really gone."

"Will you...I mean...I'd like it if you were to come with me—with us."

"Sweetheart, I'm wherever you need me," I reply, then bring his face closer and kiss him gently.

***

I spend the next few days being buried in paperwork and being put on hold. The insurance company is paying us only a fraction of what we need in order to get the center back to what it was before. All the programs that normally hand out money to programs like ours have already allocated their annual budget and so there is nothing left. I'm trying to see the bright side but it's getting harder to stay optimistic. Wyatt is trying not to step in and offer me money. I appreciate that because it would feel wrong to take it. But I do accept a generous number of neck and shoulder massages from him.

Work isn't the only part that sucks right now. Jana is avoiding my calls and I want to help but I can't if she doesn't let me. I went over to her apartment twice already and she wasn't home. I left a bunch of messages, and if she doesn't get back to me soon, I'm going to camp in front of her place. I don't want this thing to put any distance between us.

I do get some good news however; the art director who runs the program Carlos is in calls to tell me how amazing his work is and that they would love to have him come back next year. I'm so thrilled; I dance around like a crazy lady. I even get to talk to him for a little while as he's getting ready to go to his next class. He has this light in his voice that totally makes my day. He sounds nothing like the kid I had to pull away from the gang a few days back.

When I get off the phone, I am still on a high from talking to Carlos and I hate to ruin that with the void that is the education department. Screw it, the work day is almost over, so instead of calling and being on hold for the last twenty minutes, I will call first thing in the morning. I check my email in case any of the programs we've contacted have some good news for us. Nothing. Crap. But I spot an email that makes me smile. The seller on eBay has the item I have been looking for to give to Wyatt. It's a little pricey but he's so worth it. I know he'll really like it. I order it with the seller and have him send it to my mom's address.

That way I can surprise Wyatt.

I hear him enter the kitchen and open the refrigerator door. I know what he's looking for—the last slice of red velvet cake. I promised that I would leave it for him but I snuck into the kitchen and stole it about three seconds ago and I think he's onto me by now. I hear him march towards the bedroom where I've hidden out. I try to chew as fast as I can, but it's hard to chew and laugh at the same time. I sneak into the closet and hide. He opens the door and finds me in no time. Man, I'd make a horrible criminal.

"You are so fucking busted," he says as he laughs and drags me out of the closet.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I reply with my mouth still half full, causing my words to sound muffled.

"Really? There's frosting on your lips. Thief!" he accuses.

"That's makeup. It's a new style," I mumble, unable to keep a straight face.

"That's it, I'm gonna have to interrogate you until you confess your crimes," he says. He yanks me up off the floor and throws me down onto the bed. I manage to finish the cake in my mouth but can't seem to get all the frosting evidence off my lips. He gets on top of me, pins my arms up above my head, and starts to tickle me with his lips.

"No!" I yell playfully.

"Do you confess?" he asks with a big smirk on his face.

"Okay, okay!" I shout as I laugh and wiggle uncontrollably. He stops tickling me but keeps my hands up above my head. He wants my confession.

"Are you ready to admit what you did and face the consequences, Ms. Bennett?"

"I want a lawyer!" I reply.

"Oh that's it! Now you're going to be punished!" he says he playfully manhandles me and fills me with a mix of joy and anticipation. The doorbell rings before I can get my "punishment." Damn it.

"Argh! You're one lucky little girl," he says as he reluctantly pulls away from me so I can stand up.

"I'm also very full," I tease as I lick the last of the frosting off my lips. He drops his jaw and pretends to be shocked and hurt by my "betrayal." We walk out into the living room, and he makes his way towards the door. The person standing on the other side is my best friend. She looks timid and reserved. In other words, she looks nothing like herself.

She's dressed down in jeans and a sweatshirt. Her hair is in a simple ponytail and she has no makeup on at all.

"Hi, Wyatt."

"Hi, Jana...come in," he says, stepping aside to let her through. I rush to hug her and tell her that I have been trying to get in touch.

"I know. I kind of needed a little time," she says as she shrugs her shoulders.

"Are you okay?" I ask.

"No..." she replies softly. I look over at Wyatt and right away he gets it.

"Hey, I'm gonna take off. I'll see you later, babe," he says as he grabs his jacket, comes over, and gives me a quick kiss. He goes over to Jana and whispers in her ear. "Feel better, sweetheart. And whatever you do, don't trust Winter around your dessert. She has prior convictions." He jokes as he put his hand on her shoulder.

"Okay, thanks for the warning," Jana replies. Wyatt opens the door and heads out of the apartment, leaving Jana and me alone to talk. We sit at the table and I make her a big cup of coffee. Luckily we have fresh bagels from the deli around the corner, so she has something she can eat with her coffee. I spread the butter on, thick like she likes it, and place the food before her.

"It's just like we're back in my office and we are chatting away like schoolgirls with no bills and not a care in the world," I tease.

"Yeah, that would be nice." She smiles as she sips her coffee.

"Jana, I'm so sorry about the other day. I know things got heated and you were right, I was messing up my chance with Wyatt. We're better now, for the most part. Anyway, thank you for yelling at me and telling me off."

"Well, it's my job, BFF code and all."

"But that's not all that was bothering you. I know there's something else going on. You know you can tell me," I encourage.

"A few weeks back I thought I was pregnant—I'm not. But it got me thinking. What if I had been? What kind of life would I be giving this kid? I have nothing more than a series of fuck buddies and time wasters. I was good with that before but something in me started to get...restless. But then I remembered that men mostly sucked and that there were no good ones out there. That made it easy to go back to my 'one night only' policy. Then you found Wyatt..."

"Oh."

"Winter, you know I love you and I want you to be happy, I really do."

"I know, Jana."

"But a part of me thought that there were no good guys, so it was okay if I never got a steady boyfriend. But then Wyatt is a good one, isn't he? I don't mean perfect, I mean...he's someone who genuinely gives a damn. And now that I know that kind of guy is out there...I know it sounds horrible to say—and don't hate me—I'm a little jealous. Does that make me a bad person?" she says with tears in her eyes.

"No, not at all. I don't think you're jealous in the traditional sense. I mean it's not like you want to take this happiness away from me, you just want some happiness for yourself as well."

"Yes!" she says, latching onto my hands, relieved that I get where she's coming from.

"I get it, I really do," I promise.

"Things really changed when I got a cold the other day."

"How did a cold change everything?"

"I couldn't really get out of bed. I ached all over and I looked like a 'before' poster. It was awful. I called some guy I was with the night before and he thought I was making plans for later that night. When I told him I was sick and asked if he would bring me some soup, he just made an excuse. He didn't give a damn. Said I should call when I feel better.

"That's when I thought maybe 'bring you soup' guys are just some bullshit that romance comedy writers use to torture us single women. Maybe 'soup' guys don't exist. Then Wyatt goes and sends you food just because he is worried and wants you to eat. So I can only imagine how good he'd be if you were actually sick. So, there are 'soup' guys. And now the question is, why don't I have one? What's wrong with me?"

"There is nothing wrong with you. It's hard for everyone to find someone they click with."

"Yes! Exactly! So please tell me you gave that dear man some head," she pleads, only half joking. I laugh and she joins in. I nod in answer to her question.

"Yes!" she says as I hide my face behind my hands. When we settle down, I can't help but marvel at the woman in front of me. I couldn't ask for a better friend.

"I know it seems like it's coming out of nowhere but I really do want to find someone, I'm just not sure I will," she admits.

"You certainly can if that's what you want. Sometimes, I've had to get a bat to shoo away all the guys around you," I remind her.

"Yeah but they aren't the kind of guys who are fit to be boyfriends. I want that. Winnie, I know how to get a guy to scream my name or get him so worked up he buys me tickets to an exotic island. But how do I get a 'soup' guy? And most importantly, do girls like me ever get 'soup' guys?"

"You can get whatever kind of guy you want. If you don't want to have a series of one-night stands, then don't. If you want to hold out for something more meaningful, then do that."

"What if he never comes? What if there's no one for me?"

"That's just not true. I'm sorry but you're sexy, sweet, and smart. You have it all and I won't let you think otherwise for even a second," I reply firmly.

"You're saying I should hold out and not have sex on the first date?"

"Or maybe the first few dates."

"Hmmm..."

"Look, if you do have sex, it doesn't make you a bad person. But if you're looking for a guy who is in it for more than the sex, he has to get a look at the 'more than sex part.' That means letting him get to see how wonderful you are standing up."

"Am I even interesting standing up?"

"Oh sweetie, you are the eighth wonder of the world," I assure her as she laughs.

"Is that so?" she says as she begins to perk up.

"Yes, and I know you have a bright, sexy, and kind 'soup' guy out there, who's just dying to meet you."

"Okay, but he better hurry the hell up while these babies are still kissing the sun," she says as she looks down at her boobs.

"I'm sure he'll come for you. And don't worry, Jana, I see nothing but 'sunny boob days' for decades to come."

#

My sister, Bree, has been binging on any and everything she can find to eat. I get it. But at the same time, I don't want her sitting in her room, feeling bad. So, when I enter our childhood home and find her five slices into an extra-large cheese pizza, I drag her outside to take a walk. It's cold out so we don't walk too long but she does need to get some air. She says Will has been trying to call her, trying to patch things up. He even said that he'd go to marriage counseling.

"Are you gonna do it?" I ask.

"I don't know. I don't know anything anymore. He was my solid ground and now I'm free floating into crap. Don't know. Don't care. All that matters is Lily."

"Where is she this weekend?"

"She's at Will's mom's house. She needed to spend time with daddy. I didn't want to get in the way of that."

"That's good, Bree. Some women play the kids against their spouse. I'm glad you're not doing that."'

"No but if he so much as winks at a woman while he's out with my baby, I will castrate him with a dull butter knife."

Wow...

We enter our childhood home and take off our coats. It doesn't matter how old I am, I still love coming home, it always feels safe for me. Mom has decorated the house in warm colors and although she can overdo it with the knickknacks, her home is really lovely. Normally the house is neat but now that Bree is staying here, it's undergone a sight change. There are pizza boxes, candy wrappers, and a box of melted chocolate ice cream spread out on the coffee table. I can look at the table and know what Bree has eaten for the last few days. She's basically a frat boy now.

"How are things with you and Wyatt?" she asks.

"I think things are good but he's on edge because they haven't been able to find the members of the gang that gave the orders to destroy the center. Until he finds them, he's always going to be on high alert."

"Did you guys screw yet?"

"Bree!"

"What?! Oh come on, life's too short not to get good dick. Trust me. Do you know how much time I spent pretending to like my sex life with Will? Wait, do you know how much time I spent pretending to have a sex life?" she says as she starts to laugh.

"It couldn't have been that bad."

"I've gotten more excited pumping gas than I have with Will."

"Ouch."

"I was such an idiot. I lived on the hope that he'd excite me in bed one day. But that asshole couldn't find his way out of a Wal-Mart parking lot, let alone my G-spot."

"But you stayed because you love him and love beats sex."

"Oh grow up! If you love someone, you figure a way to make them feel good. Yes, Will's dick is the size of Tic-Tac, and yes, he never lasted longer than the length of a commercial break. But if he had put some effort into knowing me and what I liked, and what made me feel good, it could have saved us.

"Or maybe it was doomed from the start. What the hell do I know? Just tell me that you're having some great, fantastic sex. The kind of sex that requires medical attention when it's done. I need to know that someone out there is happy," she says as she drapes herself on my lap. I can't help but laugh at her.

"You don't like Wyatt, remember?"

"That was before he kept me out of jail."

"Yeah he's good like that," I tease her.

"ARGH!" She groans as she buries her head in my lap.

"Bree, it's gonna be okay. You won't always feel this lost, sweetie. I promise," I say as I stroke her hair.

"You know what I need?"

"No more pizza!" I reply as I push the box away.

"No! I need a 'revenge' lay!"

"What?! No, that is not what you need."

She stands up and I can see her eyes lighting up with ideas of how to get laid. This is so not good.

"Bree, you can't just go out and sleep with another guy."

"Why not?"

"Because it's the wrong thing to do."

"You get to have an exciting life, why can't I?"

"My life is not exciting at all."

"Oh please! You confront gang members, you're staying with a hot cop, and I know you gave him some."

"I haven't!" I reply. She narrows her eyes and places her hands on her hips.

"Okay, I gave him a little and he gave me a little. But we haven't had sex yet."

"I knew it! I knew you had to give up something! Well I'm sure he was happy with what you gave him but what was his performance like?" I don't reply but apparently she doesn't need words from me.

"OHMYGOD, that good huh?"

"I didn't say anything."

"You moaned and damn near arched your back."

"I did not!"

"So, then tell me. How was it when he went down on you?"

This time I hear the moan but can't stop it from escaping my mouth. ARGH!!! She bursts out laughing.

"And wait until you two have sex, I bet it'll peel the paint off the walls. Well I want some damn paint peeled off my walls. And I'm getting it," she says. She jumps up off the chair and runs to her room. "Stay right here, Winnie, I'm coming with you," she says as she takes the steps two at a time.

"Coming with me where?" I ask.

"Back to Manhattan. Mama's getting laid!"

***

Bree is not kidding about returning to the city with me. In fact, she's so damn serious, she gets dressed in under ten minutes. That has never happened before. I call Jana and ask for advice about what to do with Bree. I know she needs to let off some steam but I don't want her doing anything too crazy in the state that she's in. Jana agrees to go out with us tonight. I'm glad she'll be there because I could use the backup.

Bree wants to go shopping; apparently revenge sex demands a whole new outfit. I am prepared to go with her but at the last minute I get a call from Wyatt saying he needs me to come down to the station right away.

"Aw, does that mean tonight is cancelled?" Bree asks, pouting like a little girl.

"No, you wanna go out, we'll go. But I need to see what's going on at the station first. In the meantime, why don't you call some of your friends and see if they can go shopping with you?"

"No, they are all moms. Nice. Respectable. Moms. I want to shop with someone who thinks panties are optional."

"Seriously, that's the criteria?"

"Right now, yes!"

God help me.

"Okay, I will ask Jana to go with you; she wears underwear but I think she'll do," I reply as I call my best friend. She comes to pick up Bree, and I take a Lyft and head for the police station. When I arrive, Wyatt greets me and takes me into an office around the corner. He's so different when he's working. He's so serious and stern. His voice, his movements, and his facial expression are all stone and would scare the shit out of me if I didn't know him.

"What's going on?" I ask.

"We have a witness, someone who saw what happened at the center that night and can identify the gang members involved."

"Really? That's great!" I reply. His lips twitch and his eyes narrow as they focus on me.

"Wyatt, what is it?"

"You're not gonna like this..." he warns. He opens the door and signals to someone just outside to enter and join us. A little boy and his parents enter the room. I quickly go up to Luis.

"What are you doing here, sweetheart?" I ask. His parents tell us he hasn't been acting like himself. He's been jumpy and having nightmares. It took some doing but they finally got the story out of him. He was supposed to be in bed but he couldn't sleep and so he snuck out of the house to go in front of the center and play on his skateboard. He saw the car pull up and the guys get out. He hid while they tore the place apart.

"Oh Luis, sweetie, why didn't you tell anyone?" I ask.

"He thought he'd get in trouble for being outside, also knowing what kind of people we're dealing with, I'm not surprise our boy didn't say anything," his foster mom says with fear in her voice.

"We brought Luis here because it's the right thing to do, but that's it, we can't let our son be involved in any of this," his father says.

"No, of course not!" I reply.

"But I want to help. I'm not scared anymore. I can be tough," he pleads with me.

"I know you can, Luis, but we will figure this out another way, okay?" I reply.

"I'm not afraid. I can be brave like Mr. Hunter said in the class when he came to the center. He said you have to do what's right even when you're afraid. I didn't do it before but I'm ready now," Luis says.

Aw, this kid is breaking my heart.

I don't get a chance to reply because Decker enters the room at that moment with a stack of large black photo books. Decker greets me with a quick nod and places the books on the table for Luis to look through.

"Like we said, we don't want him involved in this," the father says as he places his hand over the books so that Luis doesn't open them.

"This is just to confirm who we already know was involved. If you decide to stop here, we understand," Decker says.

"So he's just looking at some pictures, you're not gonna force him to testify or anything?" his foster mother says.

"No! I promise Luis is not gonna do anything of the kind," I assure them. Wyatt looks over at me and signals that he wants to see both Decker and me outside.

"Alright, Luis, we'll be right back," Decker says as we exit the room and walk out into the hallway.

"You can't promise them that, Winter," Wyatt says as soon as we are alone.

"There's no way I'm gonna let anyone put Luis in danger," I counter.

"I get not wanting anything to happen to him, I am on the same page. But he's the only witness and we have no other leads," Wyatt replies.

"Then find another lead, honey, because I won't let Luis be involved in this in any way," I swear.

"He might not have a choice. The Street Kings might already know about Luis and if that's the case he's already in danger," Decker says.

"So you need to give him protection. But don't drag him deeper. This is my kid," I remind them.

"Babe, I get that you are looking out for him but putting him on the stand might be the best way to get rid of all the danger he's around," Wyatt says.

"No. There has to be another way," I push.

"There isn't another way. We've been at this for days now and I'm telling you, there's no other way," Wyatt says, pushing back.

"Well, that's not exactly true..." Decker says, then hesitates. Wyatt glares at him and Decker raises his hand as if to surrender.

"Hey, what are you two not telling me?" I demand.

"It's nothing babe," he says, clearing holding something back.

"Yeah, he's right. Let's just get back in there and see if the kid can even make an ID," Decker says.

"No! I'm not leaving this spot until you two tell me what's going on. And I think you both know me well enough by now to know that I am not bluffing. Talk," I demand as I fold my arms across my chest.

"We found out that they've been having your place watched. They really are pissed at you for denying them a new member. The word is out and it makes them look weak. So if they were to get you, it would show everyone just how serious they are. You've become very important to them."

"They are watching my place? How long have they been doing that?" I ask as the hairs on the back of my neck stand up and a shiver passes though me. Shit. It's so creepy to know that someone is watching you so they can hurt you. Wyatt steps closer to me and reads the sudden panic in my eyes.

"Hey, you know I won't let anything happen to you," he says firmly.

"Yeah, I know. It's fine. What does this have to do with Luis?" I ask.

"Decker suggested that we give them what they are looking for," Wyatt says, clearly unhappy with the thought.

"That's perfect! We could use me as bait and you guys would be standing by. Then we could get them and Luis wouldn't have to testify. Decker, that's brilliant!"

"You. Me. Office. Now," Wyatt demands as he pulls me away from Decker and into a small empty room across the hall.

"Wyatt, I—"

"No!"

"But—"

"No!"

"You would rather put a little kid in danger instead of putting me in danger?" I ask.

"I would rather neither of you face danger. If Luis can ID them, we will place him in protective custody, we'll keep him and his family safe."

"Yes, and you'll do the same for me."

"Him testifying in court, in front of a judge, security, and half the police department, is different than you being used as bait."

"Wyatt, I am the reason this all happened. I need to do this. I can't keep Carlos away from these guys forever. This is the only chance we have to get them. Let me do this."

"No. No. No."

"You are not the only one who wants to help. Just because I don't have a badge doesn't mean I can't be useful."

Wyatt rakes his hands through his hair as his jaw tightens. "I can't put you in danger. Please try and get that," he pleads.

"I won't be in any danger."

"Oh really? You have that much faith this plan?" he demands.

"No, I have that much faith in you..."

#

Wyatt is not happy about our plan. I am pretty sure that if we don't get things moving, he'll back out of it. Decker feels the same way, so as I was leaving the station he told me he'd get started on all the paperwork right away. I leave Wyatt and head back to the house. Not long after, Bree and Jana come over. While Bree goes into the bathroom to change, I ask Jana how the afternoon went.

"I don't know who that woman in there is but it's not your sister," Jana replies.

"She's a little more...laid-back huh?" I tease.

"'Laid-back' doesn't even begin to describe it. She was flirting with any and everything moving. She stuck her tongue out at a cop like she wanted to lick him, she cornered a mall security guy and told him she was in possession of something valuable and she invited him to come find it. And I can't even describe what she tried to do to the male mannequin. All you need to know is we are no longer welcome at Macy's."

"Aw, no. My poor sister is losing it." I moan.

"Yeah, she's going through it hard."

"Maybe we shouldn't take her out," I reply.

"Truth is, if we don't go out, she'll go out on her own. She is feeling unwanted since her husband cheated and now she wants a guy who will tell her that she's smoking hot and that her hubby is an idiot."

"Okay so we take her out for a few, she'll get hit on, and then her sense of self will be back to normal?" I venture.

"Oh, if only we lived in a sitcom where everything got fixed in a half hour. The truth is, this is just the start of her downward spiral."

"Great, Jana. Any more good news?

"Actually yes, she has you to watch her and for tonight she has me. It's all good. We can handle this."

"And what about you, are you okay going out tonight?" I ask as I put my hand on her upper arm.

"Yeah, I'm not looking for anyone tonight. I'm just here to help Bree and have a drink."

"Thank you so much for this, Jana."

"Anytime, chick," she says with a smile. Bree bursts out of the bathroom in a short, tight, gold tube dress.

"Wow, where is the rest of it?" I ask.

"Are you kidding, it was all I could do to stop her from hiking it up more. If she had her way, that dress would be the length of a headband," Jana replies.

"Do you like it or not?" Bree begs.

"You look great, sis."

"Thank you," she says as she takes out her purse to apply makeup. Jana changes into black leather cutout leggings and a sequence crop top. She adds heels and dangling earrings. I wear a lace romper with a plunging V-neck and strappy heels.

Thank God we're going in a cab; otherwise, I would freeze my ass off in this thing. That's the thing about living in New York City—it's easy to fall into an "all-sweater mode" and stay there until spring. But tonight, I thought I'd put some effort in and make it not just about Bree but about us girls getting together, looking good and feeling good. I wasn't looking forward to tonight to be perfectly honest but after pushing Wyatt to let me be bait, I kind of need something to take my mind off what I agreed to do.

Back in the police station, I focused on getting Wyatt to say yes to the plan. But now that he has, I am a little nervous. When I say a little, I mean a lot. So, maybe a few drinks, some music, and girl talk will ease my mind.

I'm in the bathroom, putting on the last finishing touches to my makeup when I hear Wyatt put his key in the door. "So...girls' night?" he ventures as he greets the ladies in his living room.

"Yeah, we can't let all you men suck up our time," Jana says.

"It's more than girls' night. It's 'revenge sex' night," Bree says.

Did she just say that out loud?

"She doesn't mean it like that," Jana says quickly.

"Yeah, I think I know what she means," Wyatt replies.

"So, what do you think, Wyatt?" Bree asks.

"You look amazing. If you want to get some attention, mission accomplished. And Jana, you look great too," he replies.

I give myself the once-over in the mirror: my hair is up in a sleek, high ponytail that works well with my matte bright red lipstick. And the small stone pendent I'm wearing brings out the grey in my eyes. I'm all set. I enter the living room and he turns to see me.

"Wow," he gasps softly. Okay, just standing there having him look at me like that makes my heart flutter. I'm the only thing he sees right now. He has somehow removed everyone from the world except him and me. I love him for that.

I love him.

Okay, okay, everyone stay calm. Let's just enjoy this moment and not go crazy, okay? I smile and greet him with a quick kiss. He takes my hand and practically drags me into the bedroom. "Excuse us, ladies. Be right back," he says as he closes the bedroom door behind us.

"What is it?" I ask him.

"You..."

"What about me?" I tease.

"You look..." He bites his lower lip and rakes his eyes over my body like he's seconds away from ripping my clothes off. He extends his arms and places them on the door on either side of my head, basically trapping me between him and the door. Having him so close to me, looking at me like he is, makes it impossible to focus. He nibbles on my neck as he slides his hand under my bra and kneads my breast.

"What are you doing?" I sigh as I try to manage the desire surging through me.

"Giving you a reason to stay home," he says as he slides his tongue into my mouth and pries my lips apart. I place the palm of my hands against his chest and feel the solid mass of muscles beneath my fingers. He squeezes my already taut nipple between his fingers, and I cry out in ecstasy, but he steals the air form my lungs, so I can't make a sound.

"Ah, baby, you have to stop," I plead as my eyes roll to the back of my head. He moans but continues to fondle me. It takes everything in me, but I manage to break away from his hold and put some much-needed space between us.

"Don't go," he says.

"I have to, I'll be back," I promise. He grumbles but resists the urge to come after me. Thank God, because a few more minutes of his lips on my skin and I would never leave the damn house.

"Are you supposed to be working tonight through the night?" I ask.

"Yeah, I just stopped by to check you. But I do have to take off."

"A case?"

"Yeah but it's not ours. We're just there for backup. It's no big deal," he says.

"If you're late, Decker is gonna kill you."

"He won't be there. He's messed up in the head about the upcoming custody hearing, so I told him he could go home," he says. Wyatt previously told me about Decker's divorce and the battle with his soon-to-be ex-wife.

"We should have him over to dinner," I suggest.

"Really? Are you cooking?"

"No but I think the chef likes me. And I think he'd whip up something if I asked nicely," I tease.

"How nicely?" he says as he tries to pull me to him. I step back, knowing I won't be able to pull away if I get caught up again.

"You don't have to wear an outfit that sexy, you know," he accuses.

"What am I supposed to wear to a nightclub?"

"Sweats," he replies.

"Oh really?" I laugh.

"Yeah, it's a new trend," he says, getting dangerously close to me again.

"Who made up that trend?" I ask.

"Guys who didn't want their girls being eye fucked at clubs, especially when he's not around."

"Wyatt, you have nothing to worry about. I'm not looking for anyone; anymore."

"Tell your outfit that," he says like a kid.

"You are hopeless. I gotta go," I reply as I quickly kiss him on the cheek and head out the door.

He calls after me. "Babe."

"Yeah?"

"Be safe."

***

We enter Output, a warehouse turned club in Brooklyn. The space is vast, dark, and crowded. The music is blaring, the drinks are overflowing, and just about everyone in Brooklyn is in here. I thought it would take a little time for Bree to warm up to the scene but within ten minutes of entering the club, she's had two drinks and was dancing with some stranger.

Jana looks over at me and I shrug and signal that we should let her have some fun. I was going to get us some drinks but a few guys over at the bar sent some our way. We thank them, and to my surprise, Jana doesn't go over to them. Instead she hangs with me and we dance together.

This DJ is known for his crazy mixes and tonight he's really keeping the crowd going. Jana has had more than her share of guys coming to her and she has politely sent them all away. She's just having fun on her own, and I'm so damn proud of her. I had a few guys ask me to dance and offer to buy me drinks. I declined the drinks but danced with them as long as it was a fast song. I also kept Jana nearby so it was like a group thing and not one-on-one. The whole time we are dancing, I keep my eyes on Bree.

She was only a few feet away but in all the craziness of the crowd, she has drifted to the middle of the dance floor. Worried that she may have drifted too far, I stop dancing and seek her out. Jana points over to the woman grinding up on some guy in the middle of the dance floor. She's moving her hips and waving her hands wildly in the air. She's in the zone and as of right now, genuinely doesn't give a fuck about anything.

"Is she okay?" I shout at Jana, trying to be heard above the music.

"Yeah, but she should stop drinking right about now," Jana says. I cut through the crowd and head over to her. I try to get her attention but she's too busy sucking down two drinks in a row. The guy she's dancing with offers her a third one, and I push his ass away from my sister.

"What are you doing?" Bree shouts.

"No more drinking," I tell her firmly.

"What? No way is this my last drink," she says as she makes her way to the bar. I follow her and try to stop her from ordering. But she doesn't need to order it—a new guy, who just walked in, is more than happy to supply her with a gin and tonic.

"Bree, don't drink that. You've had enough," I shout. She looks at me and downs her drink without the slightest hesitation.

Seriously?

In need of backup, I look for Jana out in the sea of people and find her surrounded by three guys who have no sense of personal space. Goddamn it!

"Bree, stay here. I'll be right back," I shout as I head over to rescue Jana. I get between the guys and at first they are happy because they think I want to be a part of their circle. They signal for me to come in closer and I do. I come close enough to nab Jana and get the fuck away from them.

"You okay?" I ask her.

"Yeah, I didn't even realize they had gotten so close. I was just dancing and they snuck up on me," she says.

"It's okay. That's why we go in groups. This was fun but I'm ready to go and Bree needs some damn coffee in her system," I reply.

"Sounds good. Where is she?" Jana asks.

"She's right over—fuck! Where did she go?!" I ask. We scour the dance floor and there's no sign of her. We split up and try to look for her again. We find nothing. Jana checks the bathroom and I check the coatroom. There's nothing. Jana grabs our coats in case we have to go outside to find her.

"Damn, where did she go?" Jana asks as she checks the crowd again.

"You looking for the girl you came with, the gold tube top chick?" one of the bartenders shouts.

"Yeah, do you know where she is?" I ask.

"Saw her go out back a while ago. Cute chick. Was gonna give her my number but she was...busy. Or at least her mouth was," he says crudely. I roll my eyes and head for the back entrance of the club. Jana is right behind me. She hands me my coat and we burst through the heavy metal door that leads to the back alley. I find my sister leaning against the wall of the club, making out with some stranger.

"Ohmygod" Jana says as she puts her hand over her mouth.

"Okay, okay, that's enough." I shout as I try not to look. I pull my sister away from the guy and drape her coat over her. The guy begs me to let her stay.

"Aw, sorry baby, I gotta go." Bree says with a smirk. The guy groans as if in agony, as I drag my sister away. And yes, she is still smiling.

"Please tell me you were planning to use a condom." I demand.

"Yeah, yeah, Mom. I brought one with me. I came prepared." She gloats.

"Bree, who the hell was that guy?" Jana says as we make our way down the alley.

"Who knows? I didn't ask his name." She replies.

"Did you ask him anything at all before you made out with him?" I accuse.

"Yes, I did." She says proudly. " I asked for a number and he gave it to me. He said

"Ten" "

"Ten what?" Jana asks.

"Inches."

Jana nods with approval, "Nice..."

"Were you really going to sleep with him, Bree?" I ask.

"I was, but I decided not to—even before you came out to get me. I could see it in his eyes. That guy wanted me. And that meant that I wasn't ugly, or unattractive to men. I am not the reason my husband cheated. He ripped a hole in our marriage, not me. And while I know I'll be sad for a long time, I'm not going to add to that shit by doing dumb, crazy shit just to feel wanted. I'm a hot piece of ass, I'm hardworking, and I happen to have given birth to best little girl in the world. That's not a bad place to be in."

"No, it's not bad at all," Jana agrees.

"And there's the matter of my sister, the chic who let me hijack her plans and go crazy without judgment. Thanks, Winnie."

"Anytime, honey," I reply as I lean in and place my head on her shoulders. Then I smile to myself. "So, ten inches, huh...?"

The two of them laugh like crazy. I know it's wrong, but hell, I joined in too. I take my cell out of my purse to call for a Lyft.

"Shit," I hiss as the laughter dies in my throat.

"What is it?" Jana asks.

"I missed seven calls," I reply.

"From Wyatt?" Bree asks.

"No, Decker," I say as I press the voicemail symbol on the screen. Decker's voice fills my ear and sends dread down my spine.

"Winter, what is it? You're shaking, honey," Jana says as she takes my hand.

"Decker said something went wrong with the operation Wyatt was helping out on...it's a hostage situation now. There's shots fired; Wyatt's inside."

#

The operation to capture Morse Coldwater took weeks to put together and only seconds to come apart. Morse handles a large portion of the guns that come in and out of this city. The case being built against him was mountain high but just to make sure the case was a slam dunk, the DA's office insisted on getting Morse red-handed with the merchandise. So a task force was set up and they were a few bodies short, so I volunteered.

It was going well enough. Morse inspected the guns, was happy with the product, and was about to hand over the briefcase. Unfortunately he got a call at that exact moment. I have no idea who was on the other end but whoever it was blew our cover. Morse had never spent one night in prison and the thought of changing that scared the shit out of him. He vowed he'd rather die than go inside for the rest of his life.

He took six of us hostage and right away, he knew he was in over his head. I could tell by the fear growing in his eyes. This guy had no idea what to do. We tried to talk him down but he held on to his weapon for dear life and used me as a shield. By now I'm certain there are snipers on the roof but there's no clear shot because Morse backed himself into the wall. The only way to get to him is to get to me.

The cop across from me is Detective Henson. I've known him from previous cases and he's a damn good shot. I give him the go-ahead to take the shot when he finds an opening. I'm hoping he can do that without killing my ass; meanwhile, the other detectives try to distract Morse. It works. He's so pissed off that one of them won't put his hands up, he turns to face him and gives Henson a clear shot. Henson takes it...

***

"I swear to god it's more pleasant to be shot than write a report about how you got shot," I bark to myself as I look over all the forms on my bedside table. The bullet just grazed me. It hurt like a bitch, but it's not serious. So when Decker walks into my hospital room, I'm not sure why he looks so upset.

"I know that look isn't because you're concerned about me." I laugh, happy to make fun of him.

"Nah, I don't even like you. I just hang out with you for your family money," he replies.

"Good to know," I reply. "What's up?" I ask as I study the uncertainty on his face.

"For a while there, we didn't know what was going on, we had no eyes in that room," he explains.

"Yeah, I asked the tech guys, they said there was some kind of interference around the building; it was wreaking havoc on the monitors."

"Well, I know you're okay and you're only wearing that stupid bandage on your arm to get attention, very desperate of you by the way," he scolds.

"You're right. It's a shameful ploy, on my part," I reply, shaking my head. "To hell with these fucking papers. I'm ready to get out of here and go home to Winter."

"Yeah, so that's what I came to tell you. She's here."

"What? Why? Don't tell me you called her," I snap.

"I had to."

"Decker! C'mon, man. We have a pact."

"Yeah, I know. We don't worry family unless it's very real and very bloody."

"Exactly. So why did you call Winter?"

"It was on the news, I don't know how the media found out but I thought it might be a bad idea to let her find out that way."

"Damn...yeah, you're right," I reason. "How's she taking it?"

"Not good," he replies.

"You told her I'm okay, right?"

"Yeah."

"But not good enough." I reply mostly to myself.

"If you heard she was hurt, would you just take someone else's word for it that she was okay?"

"Yeah, good point. How freaked out is she?" I ask.

"She's sitting next to the family of the cop that got hit when Morse's gun went off as it fell to the floor."

"Yeah, his name is...Cross, right?"

"Yes, and he didn't make it."

"GODDAMNIT!"

"They just told his family," Decker replies sadly.

"Great, just fucking great," I hiss.

"Some of the guys are gonna have a drink in his honor, at bar near the station, later tonight."

"Okay, I'm there."

"Actually, I think you're gonna be busy," he says.

"What do you mean?"

"I saw her, man...it's happening."

"No..." I grumble.

"Yup. There's no way around it," he says sadly.

"Maybe she'll just see that I'm okay and let it go," I suggest.

He laughs at me. "I have never met a woman who knew how to let anything go. I didn't remember to take out the trash on Mother's Day when I was fifteen and my mom had to take it out herself. I swear to you, every year my mother calls me to remind me about it. She calls it "The Dark Day."

"I can't have that conversation with her. You know that," I gripe.

"I do."

"It's the kind of conversation that fucking ends relationships."

"Yeah but it's also the kind that you can't avoid."

"Damn. She's gonna ask me, isn't she?" I reply with dread.

"Yup, she's gonna ask you to stop being a cop."

***

She enters the room and she's near tears. Fuck me for not putting my shirt on. She's only focusing on the bandage around my arm. I point out every few minutes that it's really just a flesh wound and that I'm fine. I swear I say it a million times hoping it will help ease her mind. I hate being someone she stresses over. When we get to the car, I tell her that I can drive and she looks at me as if to say "touch the wheel and I kill you." So, I wisely back away and let her drive.

Once we get home, she tells me that Bree and Jana wanted to pass along how relieved they were that I was okay. Great! I can use that to move on from this awful night.

"How was the club? Did Bree get lucky?" I ask, trying to sound casual and light.

"Um, yeah. It was fine. Bree is spending the night at Jana's. She'll call me in the morning. Do you need anything?" she pleads as she circles the kitchen for the tenth time.

"No, babe. Honestly, I'm fine."

"I should have called your mom but I didn't have—"

"I will give you her info, but no, you should not have called," I reply.

"Why?"

"It's only a flesh wound, babe. I swear."

God, she looks so sad. Yeah, we are definitely headed for that damn talk.

"Come, let's just sit here, okay?" I offer as I pull out a stool for her to sit on.

"Okay."

She stills for about three seconds. Then she gets up to do shit that doesn't need doing. God help me. She's freaking out. I can tell although she's trying like hell to hide it. She doesn't know what to do with her hands, her breathing has quickened, and she's avoiding eye contact at all cost.

She knew I was a cop and we met while I was on duty but tonight is different somehow. She had to watch as the whole thing played out on TV and it scared the shit out of her. I'm scared as fuck too but not about what just went down. I'm afraid of the conversation that usually takes place following this type of shit. Maybe I'm wrong, maybe tonight didn't freak her out and she's stressing about the center and not about my job.

Yeah, that could be it. She's probably not even thinking about what I do.

"Have you always wanted to be a cop?" she asks.

Fuck me.

"Yeah," I reply, feeling my chest tighten.

"Always? You never thought about anything else? I mean I'm sure you're good at a lot of things."

ARGH!

"No, babe, I've never thought about being anything else."

"You were really great when you talked to the kids at the center. They loved having you," she says with a hopeful smile.

Christ.

"I loved talking to them. You have some really good kids. So, how is the search for more funding going?" I ask, desperate to change the subject.

"Very slowly. So, does talking to kids about staying off drugs and stuff pay the same as being a regular cop?"

Here we go...

"I don't know what they make but being a cop isn't about money, so..."

"Oh no, of course not. I didn't mean...I just thought you were so great with the kids..."

"And..." I push.

"And what?"

I sigh deeply and try to keep my frustration at bay. "And you think talking to kids is safer than me running around town getting shot at," I conclude.

"Well, isn't it?" she replies.

"You never know, I could piss off some first grader and have pudding hurled at me. That's no laughing matter. That's like a twenty-five-dollar dry cleaning bill."

"That's not funny."

"Well dessert-related crimes never are," I reply with a fake bitter tone.

"Wyatt!"

"What?"

She glares at me. God, she's even hot when she's upset. There goes the tightness in my chest again. I need her to drop this subject that she's trying to tiptoe around. But I can tell by the furrowed brows, she has no intention of dropping the issue.

"Hey, I'm really serious here. You would make a wonderful outreach officer. You could go around to different schools all over the city; you could really help some kids. And you'd change their lives," she pleads.

"I had a good time doing it and I'd love to do it again, once in a while, if they need a last-minute replacement and I happened to be around."

"No, I mean maybe you should do it full time," she says.

My shoulders start to tense up and I swear to God someone placed a large boulder on top of my neck. I place my hand behind my head and try to rub the stress away but it does no good. I walk into the kitchen, praying to God she doesn't follow me.

She follows me.

Damn...

I reach for the door of the fridge and she blocks me by placing her body in front of me. God, that body. Even when I'm stressed and annoyed, I can't help but want it.

"Babe, I need to get some water. Can you please move?"

"Can you please answer my question: Don't you think you'd make a great outreach officer?"

Fuck it; I don't even need the water to be cold. I turn around and grab a room temperature bottle of water from one of the cabinets and walk out of the kitchen.

She follows me.

"Why are you running away from me? I'm talking to you," she challenges.

"Babe, you're not talking to me. You're dancing."

"Dancing?"

"Yes! You're dancing around the subject. Just come out and say what you need to say," I declare.

"I'm saying what I need to say. You're not listening."

"No, I am listening. But you are hiding behind the wrong questions and it's...argh!"

I open the water bottle and drink it down, giving myself time to refocus and regroup. I never knew it was possible to be so frustrated and so in love at the same time.

"This feels like an argument but I don't know why," she admits.

"Can we sit?" I ask as I walk over to the sofa. She follows me and sits alongside me. I make myself wait until I'm certain my voice won't come off harsh or annoyed. That takes a few moments, to be honest.

"Winter, you're not asking me if I want to be an outreach officer and talk to kids about staying off drugs."

"Yes, I am."

"No, babe, what you are really asking is if I would consider ending my career as a detective in exchange for a safer job."

"Yeah, I guess I was asking that," she admits. I don't reply, I just nod my head as the tightness in my shoulders increases. She takes my hand in hers and pleads with me.

"Is that something you would even consider?" she says.

I smile despite myself and look into her stunning eyes. "You know most guys live in fear of the 'where is this relationship going' conversation, and while that's very high on the list, the conversation most single cops hate is the 'Do you have to be a cop' conversation. Do you know why?" I ask.

"No."

"Because it's usually the last one they have before they break up."

"Wyatt, are you saying that we're—"

"No, babe. That's not what I'm saying. I'm saying once we go down this road and we have the conversation you are trying to have...we can't come back from it. If I say I won't quit being a cop, it will push you away. If I quit being a cop..."

"It would make you miserable," she reasons.

"Yeah, it would."

"I can see that," she says as she stares off in the distance. My heart is on the fucking floor right now. It's never good when Winter goes quiet.

"Babe, please don't do that right now," I urge as I rest my elbows on my lap and dig the heels of my palms into my eyes.

"What am I doing?" she asks.

"You're going dark. You're thinking all these thoughts and you're keeping them to yourself. You're blocking out the entire world and creating this mass frenzy in your head and out here, I'm left wondering what the fuck is going on. So please, just don't go dark and break off all communication."

"I didn't give you a real kiss before when I last saw you," she blurts out.

"What?"

"This evening, I was rushing out and you were running late...I didn't get to give you a real kiss. And then a few hours later I'm watching on the news and there were gunshots and I thought...I didn't get to kiss you the way I wanted to if it was the last time. And I didn't get to tell you..."

"Tell me what, babe?"

"I...I ..." She bursts into tears and I place her head against my chest. Knowing that I'm the reason she's been reduced to tears makes me feel like shit. Fuck, I would do anything to make it better, but this is the kind of stuff that can't really be made right.

"Baby, I get it. I do," I assure her.

She pulls out of my embrace and reaches for the box of tissues. "I'm sorry. I didn't think I'd do this. I mean I met you while you were on duty. And you told me how much your job means to you. It's just that when I saw the footage...I thought I'd never see you again. And that scared me so much. I don't want anything to happen to you," she says as she tries to pull herself together.

"You don't have to be sorry. I love that you care so much about me. And I get wanting me to safe, my mom has five boys and all of us are in law enforcement in one way or another."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. And believe it or not, my job is actually one of the safest."

"How is that possible?" she asks.

"We all blame our parents. My mom traveled with a world organization that went to different countries and helped bring water to villages and build homes. She dragged us with her sometimes and we got addicted to being of service. And my dad was in the army and he brought a lot of that 'structure' and 'discipline' stuff back with him. They knew we'd help out but thought it would be as doctors or public defenders. They had no idea we'd all carry guns."

"All five of you?"

"Yes, and sometimes it sucks. Sometimes it's all my mom can do not to lose it because she hasn't heard from one of us in a month," I admit.

"How is she okay with that?" Winter begs.

"I don't think she's okay with it. But I think she gets that when all is said and done, it's who we are. It's what makes us happy. And she is strong enough to put her worries aside and let us be who she raised us to be."

She snuffles as she cries what I hope are her last stream of tears. "Wow...I am in awe of your mother," She says.

"Well don't think she doesn't give us crap for it. She tries to guilt us all the time. She sends us 'are you done playing with guns' messages that are cleverly disguised as 'I'm just checking up on my boys.' They are usually twenty minutes long and she goes on and on about how she's growing old and fragile. And how we should consider retiring to spend time with her. Then she adds a weak cough at the end of it. She gives an Oscar winning performance each time."

"I take it she's not fragile?"

"Are you kidding? That lady could easily take any of us on. She is fit and in perfect health. She just likes making us feel guilty. But she puts up with so much because of our line of work, we get it."

"And you said you'd quit for her but she said no?"

"Yeah, she did. It was hard for her. I know it was. But in the end, she loved me enough to allow me to do what I do. What I need to know is where you stand on that. I know it was hard to sit and watch that story play out. And baby, I am sorry it freaks you out. But I need to know, is this something you can live with?"

"Before I answer that"—she stops midsentence and flares her arms out as if she's about to make a grand announcement—"how do you feel about the wide, wondrous world of ...accounting!"

I throw my head back and chuckle as I grab her and place her on my lap. I hold her tightly against me and lean her head to the side so I can have access to the nape of her neck. I squeeze her firmly and kiss up and down her neck.

God, I love this woman.

"Babe, I know it's not easy being with a cop. But I need to know that you're up for it. Are you?"

She inhales deeply and looks at me. "Yes, I am. I am up for it. But no matter what happens, you make sure you bring your ass home to me, every night. Got it?" she says. I suppress a smile. Damn, she's sexy as fuck when she takes that tone.

"Do you understand, Mr. Hunt? You will make it home safe every night, right?"

"Damn right."

#

A few days have passed since Wyatt was shot. He keeps reminding me that it was just a graze. He thinks it will make me feel better—not gonna happen. But I am grateful that it wasn't worse. And while I hate that he is on such close terms with danger, I couldn't picture taking that away. It's so easy to tell that he loves what he does. Still, waiting to hear if he was okay that night after the club was pure torture.

The next day, I begged him to call out of work. He did but only so that I would see he was just fine. We spent the day looking for funding online and taking turns being on hold with the insurance company. He made lunch and we actually got some downtime. We had Bree and Jana over for dinner. Bree wasn't the least bit remorseful about what she did in the alley. She was, however, ready to go back home and hold Lily in her arms. I think she just needed to be wild and crazy for a night. Wyatt had to leave dinner early when Decker came by and picked him up so they could go to the memorial service for the cop who died in the warehouse. I could have sworn I saw a weird look between Jana and Decker when he first entered the apartment but I may be wrong.

I would love to remind Wyatt that he agreed to let me be bait because I don't want him to drag his feet on this. But today is not the day for that. Today is Rose's birthday and we are headed to the gravesite. I laid out his clothes for him, a dark suit with a blue tie, which brings out his eyes. I step back and look him over.

"You look very handsome, Mr. Hunter."

"Well, you look even better," He says as he kisses my temple. I'm wearing a sensible black dress with low heels. I hope it's okay for the occasion. His family is having a driver pick us up and take us to the mausoleum where she's buried. Wyatt gets a text letting him know that the car has arrived.

"I guess we better go," he says nervously.

"Let's go wish your sister a happy birthday."

"Baby, I don't...I don't know if I can do this," he says, suddenly standing still on the way to the door. I place my hand on either side of his face and look into his eyes.

"I'm gonna be there the whole time. And I won't let go of your hand. Promise. Come, let's go see the girl that ruled over you five boys," I tease.

He laughs. "Yeah, she sure did rule over us." He takes a deep breath and we are once again on our way.

***

The town car pulls up to a large, vast, and beautifully decorated cemetery. Although it's cold out, it's bright and the sun above is gleaming. The driver lets us out just as another town car pulls up behind us. Wyatt takes my hand and we walk over to the car. He opens the door for the woman I'm guessing is his mother.

Wow...

Wyatt was right; his mom is in perfect shape. Her body is toned and her posture is impeccable. She's stunning. She's in her sixties but looks more like she's in her late forties. Her porcelain skin has very few wrinkles, her heart-shaped lips have a natural rosy hue to them, and her hair is pinned in a sophisticated ponytail. She's wearing a flowing silky cream-colored dress with red roses stitched into its hem. It could easily have just come off the runway. She has a Hermes crocodile handbag that I'm sure cost more than my car.

He embraces his mother and she holds on tightly to her youngest son. She's already in tears. When she pulls away, she takes tissues out of her purse and confesses that she thought he wouldn't actually show up.

"No, Mom. I'm here. Thanks to my girl. Winter, this is my mom," he says as he clears the path for us to shake hands.

She doesn't extend her hand. Instead she pulls me in and hugs me. She whispers in my ear, "Thank you for bringing him." I nod and smile back at her. She looks like she would be the perfect well-dressed villain in a movie. But she's not. There's warmth in her voice and in her demeanor.

"It's this way, son," she says as she guides us towards her daughter's burial place. We enter a garden with an archway, and just beyond that lies a small building that looks like a mini steeple. There are white marble benches on either side of the sacred entrance.

"This place is really beautiful, Mom," he says, taking her hand.

"Do you like it?" she says desperately.

"Yes, it's perfect," he replies.

She laughs and cries at the same time. "I just knew it would work because there's so much sunlight in this part of the yard. She loved being surrounded by sunlight," Mrs. Hunter says.

"When she was little, she hated nighttime. She used to have like three or four night-lights on," he explains to me.

"No, I think she had five. She found that hideous toad light at some garage sale, remember?" Mrs. Hunter asks.

"Yes! I can't believe I forgot about that. Babe, it was truly the ugliest thing you ever laid your eyes on. It was chipped, discolored, and the tongue of the frog had to be yanked in order to turn the light on," he explains as the two of them share a laugh.

"Why was she so in love with it?" I ask.

"She said it seemed lonely and it needed her," Mrs. Hunter replies with wonder in her voice.

"She called it Mr. Awesome," he tells me. "And if we ever did anything to her and had to say we were sorry, she wouldn't accept it unless we said sorry to Mr. Awesome too," he says, shaking his head.

"Winter, you should see this man right here trying to get forgiveness from a chipped toad light," his mom teases.

"I had to, babe. If Mr. Awesome didn't 'accept' my apology, she'd run and tell Mom. And we'd get grounded," he adds.

"What were you saying sorry for?" I ask.

"Oh, those boys thought of a thousand ways to torture her. They would scare her with fake bugs in the bed, they'd tell her ghost stories so she couldn't sleep at night, you name it and those boys did it to her. But my baby was tough. She got good at giving it back. My boys taught her to be strong because God knows she'd need to be," Mrs. Hunter says as the laughter dies in her voice.

"Are you ready to go in, Mom?"

"Why don't you go first? I'll wait out here," she says as she takes a seat on the bench alongside the entrance. He leans over and kisses his mom on the cheek and takes my hand. And together we enter the marble hallway and find the large plaque bearing his sister's name. He runs his fingers over the etched words on the wall.

"Rose Mary Elisabeth Hunter: Beloved daughter, sister, friend, and all around badass."

He smiles when he sees the last part of the engraving; I guess he didn't know it was there. But he tells me that he's glad because it reminds him of how crazy and outlandish she was.

"Hi, Rosy...I'm sorry it took so long to come see you. You know I suck with things like this. The only one who could get me here was this woman next to me. But I have a feeling you know that already..."

As he begins to talk to her, I slowly let go of his hand. I think he's going to be okay. And I really want him to get a chance to say all the things he's wanted to say without an audience. So I squeeze his hand and then quietly slip out. It's only right that I give him and Rose time alone. I step outside and go check on Mrs. Hunter.

"Are you cold? Maybe there's a place you can warm up," I suggest as I look around.

"No, not at all. The weather is rather mild considering what it could be this time of year," she replies.

"That's true, this time last week, it was insanely cold."

"Come over and sit next to me," she says. I do as she asks.

"I don't know if it's the right time but I really love your handbag," I admit, unable to stop myself.

"It's always the right time to talk handbags. And don't forget the shoes. I got this little number in Paris," she says, sticking out her foot so I could see her stylish heels.

"Very nice," I admit.

"People in my position, my...tax bracket so to speak, they tend to be...narrow-minded. I never wanted that for my kids. I wanted them to know fine things like a good bottle of wine or a trip to Italy. But I also wanted them to know about the important things—things that couldn't be purchased in a store—like love and kindness."

"You've done a great job. Wyatt is so sweet and he's just...a really great guy," I reply.

"Yes, I think his father and I have done well enough."

"Is his dad coming?" I ask.

"No, he comes to see Rose on the day she died. I prefer to come on her birthday. Everyone has their own way in which they like to remember. Now, tell me, how is my son?"

"He's doing okay in there. I think talking to Rose will really help him."

"Oh, I'm sure of it. He just needed someone to get him here. And that someone was you. Thank you."

"I'm happy to help."

"My son doesn't open up to anyone. But he seems to have taken to you—very quickly."

"Yeah, kind of," I reply, not sure where this is going.

"Now please don't take offense to what I'm about to say," she begins.

Crap.

"I'm sure you can understand, my family is very important to me. When they are serious about someone, I like to have them checked out. It's the world we live in now. And having said that, my team found a video of you and some young man, taking part in some rather unexpected behavior."

Ohmygod...kill me. Kill me. Now.

"How did you...I can't believe...it's not what you think..." I stand up and I can't seem to catch my breath.

"Youth is such a fragile thing. Relax, Winter. I look into anyone who enters my family. And in addition to the video of you, I found out about your company and all the hard work you've put into your program. You were in foster care, no doubt lost and afraid of the world. And once you found a home, you went back to help others in the same position. I'm very impressed. And I don't care about the video."

"Then why did you bring it up?" I ask.

"Before I met Wyatt's father I was in love with a snake. He would get his teeth into me and drain all my sense of self, my sense of worth. He was a parasite. And I vowed never to get involved with anyone again because it just hurt too much. But Wyatt's dad didn't give up on me, even when I turned him down—repeatedly.

"But in the end, it wasn't Wyatt's dad who saved me from being alone forever or from being swallowed up by bitterness. In the end, it was me. I saved myself by letting go and letting him love me. Now, I don't know all the details of the video or vile creature who made it. But something tells me it wasn't with your consent. Am I right?"

"Yes," I mumble miserably.

She picks my head up and speaks in a sincere tone. "My dear, the world is full of men who would move to break you. But whether they are successful depends solely on you."

"I'm trying, I am. And Wyatt is more than I could have hoped for. He's done everything he can to take me into his heart. I just wish I was...less broken. He's good to me, he tells me he loves me, and he cooks for me, which seems to always shock—"

She burst into tears, right there without any warning.

Oh shit, I broke Wyatt's mother!

"Mrs. Hunter, what is it? Whatever I said, I'm sorry," I beg as I search for the pack of tissues I placed in my purse earlier. I try to console her; thankfully it doesn't take long. Soon her tears turn to laughter. She looks relieved and blissfully happy. And me, well, I'm lost.

***

"Can you please tell me why that's a big deal?" I beg a few moments later.

"He didn't tell you about his history with cooking?" she asks.

"No, not really," I confess.

"Well, I guess I can understand that..." she says.

"He told me that he and Rose used to cook together but I have a feeling it's more than that. I can't really get it out of him. I was wondering if you'd tell me—if it's not an imposition. I'd just really like to know as much as I can about him," I admit.

"What exactly did he reveal?" she asks.

"He said that he cooked for her and that she got really sick and so he didn't cook again."

"It's more than that, so much more..." she says, sounding distant.

"Mrs. Hunter, if you don't want to talk about it—"

"No, I will talk about it with you because of what you mean to him."

"Thank you," I reply softly.

"Cooking became something that connected them in a way that no one in the family could have predicted. When you are gravely ill, the whole world boils down to your illness. But when the two of them were in the kitchen together, it was about so much more. It's like the two of them found a world where she wasn't sick. She was a chef. They didn't talk about medicine and pain; they talked about measurements and mixing spices. They could go on for hours cooking these amazing dishes. In the beginning it was awful but over time, they got very good at it.

"When she found that cookbook with dishes from around the world, they became obsessed with that thing. It was their escape. But even more than that, my son found a talent. A joy he never had before. It helped him not only connect to Rose but to black out some of the ugliness that came with his job. Sometimes I'd stand in the doorway of the kitchen and watch them cook together. It was like they were floating. My kids found a way to live above the harsh reality of life, even if it was for only a few hours.

"Sometimes life can be cruel, it gives just to take away. Rose began to get sicker and sicker. Soon she couldn't stand up on her own. We knew it was just a matter of time but we just couldn't face it. Wyatt would pick out a dish for her to make knowing she wouldn't be able to get out of bed. He'd keep hoping but at the end of the day, he had to make it himself and give it to her. Soon, she had to go back to the hospital to stay and we knew she'd most likely never come back to the house.

"Wyatt stood in her room and I could see his heart breaking. I could almost hear it. He missed so much; he could not stand to be near her things. And going into the kitchen to cook was out of the question. He lied to her and said that he was still cooking and continuing to follow the dishes from the cookbook but she knew it wasn't true. She knew he'd stopped cooking; he'd stopped living. He was just trapped in the middle of some kind of mind-numbing pain. And she begged him to get back to the kitchen. She pleaded with him but it was too hard. He couldn't take being there without her.

"One day, she had us bring him into her hospital room and she told him she was coming home because she wanted him to cook her favorite meal—spinach and goat cheese ravioli. She loved that dish. She could eat it every day and never get tired of it. That day that she asked to come home was the best day of our lives. She was renewed somehow. My baby had a brand-new light in her eyes. She was better. I don't know how else to explain it. She was stronger and she was absolutely glowing. Even the nurses said so.

"Wyatt was beside himself, he was so happy. He went out and shopped like crazy to make her meal. She didn't want to be in her old room, she wanted to be in the living room, where she had the perfect view of her brother cooking just for her. So, we set up her bed, and she watched with a smile on her face as Wyatt worked his magic in the kitchen.

"When he was done, he set the tray before her. She took one bite and smiled. She told him that she loved him and she asked for the salt. It was strange because he always put just the right amount of seasoning; it was always to her liking. But he said okay and he went back into the kitchen to fetch her the salt. When we came back, her eyes were closed.

"He knew she was gone. He realized then that it wasn't about him making her favorite meal; it was about making her last meal. My baby knew that day was going to be her last. She sent him into the kitchen because she didn't want him to see her close her eyes for the last time. I came into the living room to find him holding her body, sobbing and pleading, 'Please, Rosy, not yet. Not yet.'

"We came together as a family to say goodbye to our Rose; all five of my boys were broken but it hit Wyatt the hardest. It destroyed him. And a few days later, we got a recording she had made for us. We never knew about it until we were gathered at the house and a friend of the family admitted he recorded it for her as a favor. He played the recording for us.

"Rosy had left a message for each of us. Her final message was to Wyatt. She told him that she knew he was going to be a complete asshole now that she wasn't there to rein him in. She said she knew that he would walk around being sullen, dark, and pretty much updatable. And because of that, she would take it upon herself to make sure he had a soul mate.

"She said, 'I'll send her to you and you'll know it's her because she will make you want to find your joy again. She will make you run to the damn kitchen and cook her all these amazing meals you thought you'd never make again. She'll help you move on. She's gonna love you without fail and she'll bring your joy back to you. When you find her, know that she was my gift to you.'"

Mrs. Hunter has tears in her eyes. I did too. She places her hand under my chin and lifts my head up so that she can look into my face.

"It seems, at least to Wyatt, Rose has delivered on her promise. Now, I need to know, how do you feel about my son?"

#

Today was supposed to be one of the worst days of my life. I was supposed to go see my baby sister's grave and stand there as the reality of her death ripped my fucking heart apart. I was supposed to find the strength to stand beside my mom as grief swallowed her whole. I was dreading it with every fiber in me. But my girl turned it around for me. Yes, it was hard to stand in front of Rose's grave but not nearly as hard as it would have been without her.

After we are done at the grave site, we get back in the car. The temperature dropped since we've been here, and the sky is murky. The scent of rain is now in the air but it doesn't dampen the afternoon at all. We head to Rose's favorite restaurant, where Winter meets most of my family. She suddenly finds herself in a sea of strangers, yet she holds her own and managed to charm the room. My father, Joe, loves her at first sight. He takes me aside and says, "Son, anyone who looks like that, yet isn't too highbrow to eat ribs with her fingers, is a keeper."

I don't want to be rude and leave her alone since she just met these people, but she leans over to me and says, "I'm good. Go, and hang with your brothers. Also if we don't work out, I'm letting you know now, I am not above asking any of your three brothers out. Make that four brothers, if Logan gets back in the country. They are all too damn hot. In fact, I might still ask them out," she jokes.

"Sorry, you're stuck with me," I remind her. "Be right back," I promise as I give her a quick kiss. I talk with my brother for a while and it feels so good to be in the same room with people who knew Rose. I turn a little while later to find that Winter has been snatched up by Shelby.

Shelby's telling her the "who's who" in the family tree (the Shelby scandal edition). I would have saved her but in the end, Shelby is more annoying than hurtful. The entire afternoon is filled with stories and laughter. Winter helps make it so that Rose's birthday isn't a funeral, it's an outright celebration. And God knows, I love her for that.

***

When we get back home, I'm still amazed at how she turned my day around. She managed to make me focus on the joy of having had Rose in my life instead of the sadness. My dad loved her, and my mom has already warned me that if I hurt her, she'll make my life hell. This girl is everything I want and everything I ever needed.

"Wyatt, you okay?" she asks as she catches me looking off in the distance.

"I am more than okay. I'm happy. And I don't think that would have happened had it not been for you. I really had a great time today. I mean there were some hard moments but all in all, it was great," I reply as I wrap my arm around her waist.

"Me too. And your mom is the best," she says, leaning in closer.

"I saw you two talking, anything I should know?" I ask.

"She saw the video of me and my ex."

"What? Damn her, I—"

"It's okay. At first I was livid but she didn't judge me—at all," she says.

"That's not the point, why was she looking in the first place?" I snap.

"Because she's mother to five guys who are well off, kind, and easy on the eyes. I get it."

"You're giving her a pass," I scold.

"Honey, all five of her sons have daily contact with guns and bullets. She needs a pass. And besides, she really was cool about it. She wanted to make sure I didn't let the past get in the way of the present. It's fine."

"Yeah, I guess," I mumble reluctantly.

"I hope you don't mind; I asked her about the cooking thing," she adds.

"And she told you about Rose's last meal," I conclude.

"Yeah but don't be mad. I'm glad I know. And I am honored to be the girl you cook for. And Rose was a lucky girl to be so loved by so many people."

"She's not the only one who is loved. I can't get enough of you, babe," I reply, then lean in and kiss her firmly. She groans and says she has to make a call and so I'm forced to let her go. She exits out to the living room and I change into a pair of jeans. I think about how I want to spend the rest of today—inside her.

God, I have been trying to hold myself back, but shit, I want to fuck her so bad, it's messing with my mind. It's not just about getting laid, though. There's a part of her she hides from me and I want in. I want to be inside her as far as I can go. And honestly, judging from the skillful and mind-blowing blowjob she gave me, I know making love to her will top anything I've ever experienced.

There have been many times where I walk past her and I all I want to do is bend her over the furniture, pry her legs apart, and impale her from behind. I've wanted to grab a fistful of her gorgeous hair and yank on it as my dick thrusts into her slippery folds. I would give anything, any fucking thing to have her writhing, wet, and whimpering in my arms.

That would be the beginning: fucking like two feral animals in heat. She'd think it would be over after that but she'd be wrong. The first fuck would be to tame the lust that's been growing since I first met her. It's the monster created by my cock, the beast that can only be tamed by fucking her until she taps out from exhaustion. When that's over, I could then start to think clearly. I could take my time and make love to her. This time we'd go slowly, I'd explore her fully, from her earlobe to the small of her back, down to her toes.

Shit, I must have stayed on that thought too long because now my dick wants her and it's expanding to let me know that it's fucking tired of waiting. But when she comes back into the bedroom, I can tell by the look on her face, sex is the last thing on her mind. She looks pissed off and ready to kill someone.

"What happened?" I ask.

"I just got off the phone with the company that owns the building the center is in. They won't renew our lease."

"Why the hell not?" I demand.

"They think the Street Kings are going to keep coming back, because they have a personal gripe with us, so they would rather rent it out to someone else. Shit! It's one thing to have to look for funding to repair the place but now we have to find a whole new place? Damn! These kids are so used to being shuffled around, I was supposed to help them get something stable and instead I just..." She sighs deeply and hangs her head.

"Okay, I have had enough of this. Really, I'm done with this shit. Get your jacket. We're going out," I inform her.

"What are you talking about?"

"I have been wanting to help you since this thing started and you keep fighting me on it."

"Wyatt, please. I told you I can't take your money."

"Yeah, I heard you. Get your jacket. Let's go," I order as march towards the door.

"It's gonna rain soon," she protests.

"You'll be fine. Move it," I instruct.

She's asking where we are going and what's happening but I don't reply. We get in the car and drive about fifteen minutes away from the house. I park in front of a newly renovated red brick three-story building.

"What are we doing here?" she asks.

"Get out of the car and come take a look," I reply as I open her car door for her. She gets out and we walk up the front steps. I use my key and enter.

"This is your place?" she asks.

"Yeah, it's the one Rose left for me. Come in," I reply as I take her hand and walk her through the space.

"This place is amazing," she says.

"I've had multiple offers to sell but I didn't want to do that," I admit.

"That makes sense. Rose wanted you to have it."

"Yes, and now I know exactly what I'm going to do with it."

"You are gonna rent it out—if that's why you brought me here, I'm sorry, honey, the center can't afford this place. In fact, I don't think we can afford the bagels in the shop down the street from here." She laughs.

"I'm not renting it out to you, I'm giving it to you."

Her jaw drops, she shakes her head "No" about a million times and gets back into the car. Jesus that woman can be difficult. I get back in the car with her.

"Winter—"

"No. This house is worth millions."

"It's not being used. I don't want strangers in it, so I won't rent it out. I already have a house. So, what's the harm?" I ask.

"It's yours. I can't just come and take it like that. It's not right. I don't want to...you have given me so much, Wyatt. I can figure this out for myself."

"So, you are saying that you are willing to pass up this place?" I ask in disbelief.

"I can't have you saving me every five minutes. This isn't some storybook romance. Just because you have money doesn't mean that I have to take from you."

"You are not taking, I am offering," I counter.

"It doesn't matter. The answer is no."

"You are making this so much harder than it has to be. Rose would have been happy knowing her house was going to help kids who need it. She would have wanted this. I know it."

"Okay, maybe she would have. But...Wyatt, you can't just make everything better with money."

"ARGH! That is not what I'm trying to do. Why is it so hard for you to just accept some help? What would be so fucking wrong with saving you from this awful situation?"

"No! I can figure things out myself," she barks.

"You are not in this by yourself. I don't know how many ways I have to say that in order to get through to you. It's just us here, you and me. If I have a way to solve our problem, then what's so wrong about using it?"

"Wyatt, that is easily a five-million-dollar piece of property."

"I'm not giving it to you so you can host fancy dinner parties and drink cocktails with the girls. This will be your new center. The place where hundreds of foster kids can go for help with schoolwork, future job training, whatever they need. Why wouldn't I want to be a part of that?"

"Wyatt, it's great that you want to be a part of this. You can speak in front of them once a month or help with the sports classes, whatever. But you can't just give away your house."

"Because that would mean we are really a couple and that freaks you out," I reason angrily.

"No, that's not it. Honey, you've saved me from so much already..." she says as she places her hand on the side of my face. I take that hand and bring it to my lips. I kiss her palm. I sigh and look into my girl's eyes.

"Babe, I can't save you from the thing that really hurt you. I can't take back what your ex did to you. I can't take back how much pain it caused and I can't undo the moment you two met. What I can do is love you as hard as I can, and in every way that I can. Don't say yes to my offer because you need my help, say yes because you know that I need to do this for you. And babe, this is your chance to give the kids what they truly deserve: a place they can think of as home. Let me do that for them; for you."

"Wyatt—"

"Argh, Winter! Just say yes. It's not that big a—"

"Wyatt."

"I can't believe you won't take this offer!" I groan in frustration.

"That's not what I was gonna say!" She shouts over me.

"Fine, then what were you going to say?" I bark.

"I love you."

"What?" I ask, not sure I heard right.

"I love you, more than I ever thought I could love anyone."

"Oh..."

"Is that okay?" she asks, uncertain. I place my hand behind her neck and bring her close to me. I drop my head so our foreheads meet. I swallow hard, hoping to take some of the emotion from my voice.

"Yeah, babe, that's okay. That's more than okay..."

***

I swear to God, it feels like I'm fucking flying through this world right now. She loves me. She fucking loves me. And she said it. I waited and she finally said it. God, I love this woman beyond reason. And as the waitress takes us to our seats for dinner, I wait until Winter isn't looking and I text my dad:

"She said she loves me."

He texts me back:

"She knows a good thing when she sees it; like your mom knew when she met me!"

I smile to myself, and she asks what's funny, I tell her never mind. She reminds me that she still hasn't accepted my offer. We sit at the table and try to hash it out. In the end, she finally agrees but only if I let her pay me rent. I agree. She asks me how much and I tell her it's a dollar a month.

"That's crazy! I want a real price," she pushes as she steals a fry from my plate.

"Okay, a dollar and various sexual favors," I reply.

"Well, now that I think we can do," she says as she leans across the table and kisses me. Damn her lips and what they do to me.

"Are you really sure about this, Wyatt?"

"Yes, babe, I'm sure. Now eat up because you are going to need your strength tonight," I reply suggestively. My cell rings and I know my night is ruined even before I pick it up.

"Yeah?...When?...No, that's fine, she'll be there tomorrow...yeah, thanks." I hang up the phone and push the plate of barely eaten food away.

"Do you have to go into work?" she asks.

"Yes, and you have to come with me. The operation at your place is going down tomorrow night," I grumble.

"I didn't know it was happening this soon. I thought..."

"Yeah, me too. But Decker called in some favors and got the paperwork processed quickly. I think he feels bad about what happened to the center and wants to help," I reply.

"Oh, okay. What happens next?" she asks, trying to hide the nervousness in her voice.

"We've been circulating the rumor that you went out of town to visit a relative but you will be back this week. And they are excited to get their hands on you," I reply as my jaw tightens and my chest constricts. She places her hand on top of mine and tries to smile despite the fact that she's terrified.

"It's gonna be fine, right?" she asks.

"Yeah, it will be," I reply, unable to shake the gut feeling I have. We should have found another way. The thought of things going wrong and something happening to her is almost more than I can bear.

"Hey, let's get out of here," I suggest, as the food looks less and less appetizing. The worry I feel is growing in the center of my chest and with every passing moment. I want to reconsider this plan. I guess Winter can read the reluctance on my face because when we get in the house, the first thing she does is try to kiss my worries away. Nice try. But even those lips can't take my mind off the danger I'm about to put her in.

"We need to be serious here, babe. I need to let you know what's going to happen," I tell her as I step out of the kiss and make her sit across the counter from me.

"Okay, serious. Tell me," she says.

"You will head over to your place before it starts to get dark so they can really see you and know that you are back. Once inside your apartment, you are to act as if everything is fine. Just do what you normally do. My guess is they will wait until nightfall before entering. We have everything in place in the apartment one floor above yours. All the equipment is already set up. We'll have an eye on you at all times. We just need to get them entering your apartment and reaching for their weapons. We'll come in, take them down, and it'll all be over."

"Okay, just go home and do what I normally do. I got it," she says, exhaling deeply.

"It's okay to be nervous. It's actually a good sign. It means you will be alert," I assure her.

"Then consider me very alert," she says as her eyes widen.

I shake my head as I study her. "Babe, you are doing all of this so that a little boy doesn't have to testify. And even though you're scared shitless you refuse to back down. I fucking love you for that."

She smiles and lowers her eyes, suddenly shy. The longer I look at her the more I want her. My eyes glaze over with lust and the sheer exhilaration of being near her. I can practically hear her heart beat from here. I rake my eyes over the spots that I want to graze, bite, and nibble on. My breathing changes, my pulse speeds up, and my entire world narrows down to her. I am drawn to her by powers that are way beyond me. I wrap my hand around her throat and back her into the wall. She looks back at me, her eyes wide with alarm.

"You're afraid," I accuse.

"I am but not of you. I'm afraid of how much I want you. Wyatt...I'm ready."

"You damn well better be, cause I'm coming in..."

#

I palm her ass and hoist her up onto my hips with such force, she gasps as she wraps her legs around my waist. She looks for an apology in my eyes for the brute strength I just used. There is none. I'm not sorry about shit. I've been denied too much and for far too long. No more waiting. No more asking. I will take what's mine. I'll write my name on the tender flesh of her inner thighs and on every wall of her pussy.

She sees the monster looking back at her, the part of me that will no longer be kept at bay. And she doesn't pull back; instead she holds my face with both hands and kisses me with such frenzy, she makes the fucking room blur. We kiss every inch of exposed skin we can find on each other as I carry her into the bedroom.

I shut the door behind us and slam her against it. We start to strip as if our very lives depend on how quickly we can get naked, and I swear to god it does. Outside it's pouring rain now and inside clothes are flying in the air. I untie, unzip, and chew through buttons—whatever I need to do to get to her bare flesh.

She's left with only her bra and panties when I lay her down on the bed. I climb on top of her, placing my knees on either side of her. She lifts her back off the bed and kisses me all over until I'm so hard, I hiss from the pain. I hungrily place my mouth on her breast and summon her nipple though the mesh fabric of her bra. And within seconds, her hard points are bursting through the fabric.

She's panting as she rakes her hands through my hair. I attend to both nipples in very different ways. I bite lightly on the right and knead the left. The combination of pain and pleasure causes her to cry out. I reverse it so that the nipple that was once in pain is now taut with pleasure. I taste every inch of her upper body and leave her weak and begging for me to take off her bra so there is nothing between us.

"Please, please." She moans as she reaches out to me. I remove her bra and pop her breast into my mouth. She sighs and presses me up against her chest. I make my way down her body, between her already trembling legs. I glide my hands over her panties. The sight of her ready, willing, and wet is almost more than I can stand. I open her legs wider, move the panel aside, and sink my fingers inside.

"Damn, baby, you feel like warm silk," I growl. I just want to slide between those pretty legs and do backstrokes inside her pussy. But I don't give in yet; I want to make sure she's ready, so I use my fingers to drive her to the edge. She's so wet, she tries to squeeze her legs shut to manage the ache pulsing between her thighs, but I won't let her. I need her to stay open; I'm coming in. By now my cock is past hard. It knows that she's there, lying open and wet; so goddamn wet.

I quickly unbuckle my belt, toss my jeans aside, and only my boxers remain. She sees the large bulge and she's excited. She's also scared. She's both and uncertain which side will win out.

I grab a condom from the nightstand, take off my boxers, and put it on. I then lick her inner thigh until she sighs my name. I circle her clit with my tongue but tease her by never touching it head-on. She squirms with need as I tease her with my mouth. Finally, unable to take the torment of not being inside her, I part her legs and place the tip of my cock inside her opening. She hesitates. It's ever so slight but I feel it. And the fact is, as hard as I am going to fuck her, as hard as I need to fuck her, if she's hesitating now, later on, she'll be in tears.

There's no way I'm hurting my baby.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," she says, suddenly sitting up, ashamed.

"You felt it?" I ask.

"Yes, I just closed up, I don't know why...I'm sorry," she says, on the verge of tears.

"Hey, stop, baby. Stop saying you're sorry. It's okay."

"What's wrong with me?" she begs.

"Not a damn thing. I have an idea." I reposition the two of us. We sit in the center of the bed; I place her on my lap, facing me. Her legs are wrapped around my waist. That way, she has all the control. She looks into my eyes, worried and overwhelmed. I'm know she wants this, I just need to help her find a way through, the same way she has done for me these past few days.

She searches my eyes and sees that I am not frantic or pissed off that she couldn't let me in. I'm just happy to be holding her in my arms. We are literally entangled in each other. There's no else in the world but us.

"Hi, bright eyes," I whisper as she gazes at me.

"Hi," she says in a deep loving tone that resonates deep inside me.

"The only thing I'm here to do is love you. Do you believe me?" I ask.

"Yes."

"Then let me love you," I reply. She nods slowly. "Grab my dick." A spark appears in her eyes. "The last time you were with someone like this, they betrayed you. I won't ever do that. You believe me, babe?"

"Yes," she says.

"Put it in," I whisper in her ear. She grazes the tip of my cock with her finger, almost by accident as she wraps her hand around it; the sensation is so good, I have to suppress a groan. Her touch is light but causes an unspeakable amount of pleasure inside me. She places me inside her as far as she thinks it can go. My dick fills her to the brim, and she inhales sharply as she adjusts to take me in.

"That's good, baby." I sigh. I swallowed hard and try to stop the dizziness that comes with being so fucking hard and turned on.

"You need to keep going. Take all of me inside you, baby," I snarl.

"There's more of you...?" she asks, breathless.

"Yeah," I reply, laughing softly. She laughs softy too. It's such a silly, stupid moment. But laughing while I'm inside her helps. She's now more relaxed. I take the moment and I thrust my dick the rest of the way in. She groans out loud and clings to my neck.

"Jesus, babe, you're so tight...so wet," I hiss.

"It hurts." She whimpers.

"I know, baby, I know. It's because you're fighting me."

"I want you, Wyatt; I do."

"Good, baby. Then let me in," I reply as I thrust myself fully inside for the first time.

"Oh...."

"Let me in, baby," I beg as I thrust again, this time with renewed strength.

"Oh..."

"Does it hurt, baby?"

"Yes." She pants. I use my thumb to play with her clit so she can focus on the pleasure and not just the pain.

"Do you want me to stop?" I ask as I thrust again and again.

"No..." she moans as her tight, wet walls trap and milk me.

"That's it, baby, just like that," I hiss as she slowly begins to loosen up. It feels so good; I have to grunt and bear down not to lose my mind. She's almost dropped her guard. She's nearly there. She just needs a push. I caress her earlobe with my tongue and whisper in her ear. "Winter, I belong to you. All of me. Do you belong to me?"

"Yes." She sighs as her clit becomes swollen with longing. She's about to go over the edge but I will be damned if my thumb sends her there and not my dick.

"Show me, baby. Let me in. Let. Me. In!" I ram myself inside her pussy with a possessive, brute force I never knew before. She screams as she tilts forward and sinks her teeth into my neck.

I'm in.

I'm home.

I start moving inside her, each thrust taking me deeper and deeper into the heaven I was previously denied. I hear her breathing hard against my ear as she rocks back and forth. Fuck, I'm so goddamn lost inside her; I have to force myself to check in with her. If she wants to stop, I swear to God I will stop. But I'll probably weep like a fucking baby when she takes her pussy away.

"You good, babe?" I ask as I insert myself inside her yet again.

"It hurts," she says. Fuck. I make myself pull out of her. She looks at me like I just pulled the plug on her life support.

"No, no, no. Why did you stop?" She moans.

"You said it hurt."

"Yeah, it hurts good. It hurts really good now," she says as she takes my dick and inserts me inside her.

Now she's really ready.

There is no more hesitation in my girl's body. She hops on my dick and rides it like it's what she went to school for. She glides up and down my shaft faster and faster, until I'm on the fucking edge and about to forget who I am let alone where I am. She swirls and shifts her hips in a way only my body can understand. Her pussy and my dick have language all their own.

She grinds and slides up and down my lap, taking all of me inside her, as her breasts bounce high in the air. I knead them with my mouth, but I'm rocking so much, they sometimes pop out. I greedily pull them back into my mouth again. Meanwhile, she's using her walls to milk every drop of strength I have.

Without warning, I pick her up and place her face down on the bed. I place her so that while her face is down, her ass is high in the air. Between her legs, I can see her breasts hanging in the air.

She's mine. Her breasts, her thighs, her ass, that perfect pussy, are all mine.

I claim them the same way I claim her laugh, her sparkling eyes, and her giving heart. She belongs to me body and soul. And I damn sure belong to her.

I stand on the floor with the sight of her ass in front of my face. I drive into her with such force she tries to wiggle away. I snatch her back and prepare her again for another strike. I ram into her over and over until she's dripping wet, being ripped apart by orgasms. She's talking but isn't saying real words. Knowing I'm on the edge myself, I thrust into her repeatedly and soon, we are both gripped by unrelenting waves of orgasms.

We fall seamlessly into one sex position after another. The rain bangs on the window as our sweaty bodies collide. The last position we take is the one we keep coming back to—sitting in the middle of the bed, facing each other, legs intertwined.

She's about to ride me to the last orgasm my body can take. She's controlling this ride. She moves slowly and rhythmically. She creates sparks of lust that grow from my balls and spread out, causing me to grip her bare ass and dig into her flesh as I growl. The passion she created in me is beyond what I can handle. FUCK! I drive into her for the last time; she arches back and shouts, "Holy. Shit. Wyatt!" We cling to each as the ecstasy claims us yet again...

#

He left his handprint all over me. He marked me in places no one had ever even touched before. My body is still buzzing from his touch. I've never been so drained and yet so satisfied in my life. I lie in bed, with him next to me, and say a silent "thank you" to whoever up there loves me enough to bring Wyatt into my life. I watch his eyes flutter as he sleeps peacefully beside me. The gentle sound of rain mixes with the sound of passing cars from the street below. I look over at the clock by the bed; it's four in the morning.

I'm exhausted but I don't want to close my eyes and miss this moment.

Our moment.

I turn on my side, facing away from him, but go in close so I can snuggle against him. He instinctively wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me tighter. My lips glide into a smile, and he wakes and nibbles on my neck.

"Sorry, I woke you," I whisper.

"I'm not," he says as he trails his fingers along my spine and down to my lower back. His touch alone makes my head spin. I slipped on one of his tee shirts sometime in the middle of the night and now he's seeking what's under it. He grazes my thigh; I shake my head and turn to face him.

"No, you don't, Mr. Hunter. Four orgasms is my limit."

"It's your fault, you can't lay here next to me wearing nothing but my shirt and think I'm going to let you rest," he says as he cups my ass. I sigh knowing he could have me right now and I would be powerless to stop him.

"No, I need to rest and so do you," I purr.

"Okay, you're right. I will behave, and I promise not to put my hands on you," he says.

"Thank you," I reply, knowing full well he'll never keep his promise. A few moments later I feel his cock behind me. He's stone hard. He takes out a condom from the nightstand and presses up against me. It feels heavenly.

"Hey, you said—"

He cuts me off. "That's not my hand, baby." I lean my head back and laugh. But soon the laughter gives way to a series of moans and whimpering as he slides his hardness between my wet and pulsing mound. My eyes roll to the back of my head as I give in to the ecstasy he creates in me. I hear him groan and swear in a gruff voice as he slowly inserts himself deeper into me. He reaches out for me, and we interlock our hands and hold on tightly as we climax. When it's over, we don't let go. I think that's why I love him; he never lets go.

***

It's nine in the morning and Wyatt has gone over the plan with me about a hundred times. And he wants to go over it about a hundred more. I am forced to put a stop to it and remind him that all I'm doing is acting normal. That doesn't really require practice. But I give in because I know he's just looking out for me. So, we go over the plan, yet again, and I finish my coffee and head for the door.

"Where are you going?" he asks.

"I 'coffee' cheated with you this morning and now I have to go and meet Jana so I can have coffee with her and act like it's my first cup."

"We need to go over the plan again," he says, blocking my way.

"The plan right now is to meet with Jana and run away from my crazy boyfriend."

"I just want to make sure we have all our bases covered," he says. I walk up to him and suck on his bottom lip. We begin to kiss and I guide him over to the sofa. He greedily tries to get as much of me as he can, and when his eyes are closed, I escape to the hallway. He follows me and shouts, "So not fair babe!" as the elevator door closes.

***

I actually lied to him about meeting Jana. I plan to meet her later on, but first, I meet his mom so we can talk about his birthday. The only reason I know it's coming up is that Shelby sent me a text. I can't decide if I like her or not but I like that she's herself and doesn't try to be anyone else.

Mrs. Hunter and I plan a small dinner party for Wyatt because I know he won't want anything extra loud and crazy. She also helps me with the gift that I was planning on giving him. I didn't know it was his birthday when I began looking for the gift but that works out perfectly.

When we're done planning, I head over to Jana's apartment. Last night, I told her about Wyatt giving us the townhouse and this morning, I texted her about us finally making love. I'm not sure which she's more excited about—wait; I think it's the fact that we finally had sex.

I didn't tell her I was stopping by but I thought I would surprise her and take her out. She helped so much with Bree and she's still dealing with the ups and downs of dating, so some best friend time is definitely called for. I enter her building and knock on her bright red apartment door. I can't wait to get in and get warm. It's no longer raining outside but it's super cold.

The door opens but it's not Jana standing on the other side—it's Decker. A very naked Decker wrapped in Jana's bedsheets. "OHMYGOD!" Jana says as she runs up to the door with only a tee shirt on. She pushes past Decker's frozen face and stands in front of him. She closes the door slightly so that I no longer have a view of the background.

"Hi!" she says in a high-pitched voice.

"Hi..." I reply, smirking as I tilt my head to the side.

"I wasn't expecting you," she says.

"Yeah, I can see that." I shout over her head, "Hi, Decker!"

"Ah, hi Winter," he says awkwardly in the background. "I'm gonna go find my clothes," he says as she disappears into the back room.

"Well, I um...okay so—"

"Hey, we need coffee and a lot of it. So, pause your story and I will wait outside for you to get dressed. We'll go eat. That is if you and Decker are done," I offer.

"Yeah, we...yeah. Be right out," she says as she closes the door.

Shit, what the hell? I can't wait to find out how this happened. Is this a good thing or...crap. C'mon, Jana, dress quickly.

I wait in the hallway as Decker, now fully dressed, walks by. He says he'll see me later tonight. For the record, I enjoy every second of his discomfort. It's like teasing a brother or a good friend. Not long after Decker leaves, Jana appears in the hallway, dressed and ready to go. That's not good enough. She better be ready to spill her guts.

God, this will take more coffee than Starbucks has to offer...

***

We decide to go to the cafe two blocks from her house because it has a big comfy lounge feel to it. It's fairly quiet and the coffee is outstanding. We don't go there on the days we have to work because the damn chairs are so comfy; there is a good chance we would never leave. However, the center is still closed, so there is more than enough time to sit and chat. And thank God because that woman owes me some details.

We order sandwiches and extra-large mugs of coffee; we wait for the waitress to bring it over before we begin to talk. I want to get to the Decker issue right away, but I try to be a grown-up and tend to the work stuff first. The act of moving the center to a new location will take planning, so we use the first hour to create a solid starting point. Once that's done, we move on to the good stuff.

"Spill it, woman! What the hell happened?" I ask excitedly.

"Decker was at home when he got the news from his lawyer that his ex-wife agreed to joint custody," she says.

"Really? That's amazing! Why didn't he tell us that?"

"He knew Wyatt was dealing with Rose's birthday and he wanted to save the good news until after. He went to a bar to have a drink and I bumped into him."

"I thought you were slowing down on the bar scene and that you were looking for something more...serious," I reply.

"Yeah, I total am. My hormones didn't get me to the bar, my greed did. You know the bar about five blocks from here—Sophie's?"

"Yeah, amazing cheese sticks."

"Yes! Well, I was really craving some and delivery was like a two-hour wait and cost a small fortune. So I dragged my ass down there, in jeans and a big 'blah' looking coat. My goal was simple: get food and get out. You could tell because my hair was a mess, I had no makeup, and I'm pretty sure there was a crayon in my hair thanks to my neighbor's toddler, who I babysat earlier that day.

"Anyway, I ran into Decker, who was trying to get away from this oversexed woman who kept asking him to let her feel his gun. I stood there and watched him wrestle with the best way to get out of the situation, and man, did he fail. After a while, I had pity on him and interjected."

"How? Did you pretend to be his girlfriend?"

"Even better, I marched up to them and scolded Decker for leaving me alone with our 'new baby' and disappearing for three days."

"Nice!"

"Yeah, I even added a bit about being a loving girlfriend who was okay with his current situation—his inability to perform," she says as we share laugh.

"He was pissed but he didn't contradict me because, well, the woman was really awful. So I dragged my 'boyfriend' outside. I then laughed at him like any mature adult would, and he gave me a ride. He told me about winning custody of his little girl and I invited him to come and celebrate like any classy lady would."

"With cheese sticks and beer?" I ask.

"Exactly. Anyway, we ended up talking for a long time, then before I knew it...we were tongue wrestling."

"How was it?" I ask carefully.

"Good; really good," she says in a somber tone.

"Jana, why do you say that like it's a bad thing?"

"Decker and I had 'the talk,'" she admits.

"I don't know what you mean."

"Do you remember Halloween, when you and Wyatt were at the back of the bar, and he got you to stop and talk to him?"

"Yeah, I remember. It was like a perfect night," I reply. She looks at me and raises her eyebrows.

"You and Decker...?"

"Winter, the conversation was so good, and not because we were trying to get to the sex part. In fact, I didn't even need the sex part. It was enough just to sit and talk. Did you know that he speaks five different languages? Did you know that he gave up a promising football career to become a cop? And that the first time he had sex, he sent her a thank you card?" she says, completely smitten.

"You're kidding, he didn't actually do that."

"Yeah, he did. And his first day as a cop, he was on patrol in a neighborhood where this old senile lady kept mistaking him for her son, who never visits. Her name is Myrtle. He didn't have the heart to tell her he wasn't related to her, so he ended up going inside her house, where the two of them have been playing bridge ever since."

"Aw, that's so sweet!"

"Yes and no. The two of them are so good, they are now well known as the sharks of the bridge scene. And have racked up some serious cash."

"Bridge?" I ask in disbelief.

"Yes, and he gives her his half of the winnings because she's saving up to move to Sarasota, Florida. According to old lady Myrtle, that's where all the hot retired men go."

"Noted," I tease.

"He told me about the first time he held his daughter...and what it's been like for him these past few weeks, knowing he might lose her," she says, filled with sympathy.

"And the sex...?"

"Fantastic. And, he stayed," she says mostly to herself. "When I'm done sleeping with a guy it's usually a race to the door. He gets up so quickly, it's like he's fleeing a crime scene. I get it. I do the same. But Decker didn't do that. He didn't leave. Instead he just held me. It was...nice," she says softly. She takes a deep breath and shakes her head. "I shouldn't have slept with him. Now even if it could have been something good, it's worthless."

"Not necessarily," I counter.

"Winter, now I'm a one-night stand to him. And he's just some guy I slept with. One-night stands don't ever become more than that. I was so stupid. He was a nice guy, we talked and got along, and then I opened my legs. Now, I'll never know if he could have been a soup guy," she says sadly as she sips her coffee and looks out the window.

"Well, Wyatt's told me a lot about Decker and I think he is a good guy. And I don't think you should count him out yet. I'm sure he'll call you."

"Yeah, he will, for another bed session. I want more than that. Or at least I think I do. When the chance came, I went and messed it up."

"Jana, it's not easy fighting your urges. I should know."

"Yes, let's talk about that. No more Decker talk. I need a blow by blow of last night. What he did and how long he did it," she says, perking up way too quickly. I'd like to find out more about what took place between her and Decker but I can tell she's trying to downplay it, fearing it is over before it even starts.

I get how she feels and so I let the subject drop. I tell her about my night with Wyatt in detail. She's excited that we finally did it and she orders me a sundae with a cherry on top. When we are finally done, we walk out, full and satisfied.

"Are you really going to be used as bait?" she says as we step onto the sidewalk. According to her tone, she's wanted to say this for a while.

"It's going to be fine, all I have to do is eat Thai food, watch TV, and go to bed. Think about it, I've been training for this my whole life," I joke.

"I don't know how you got Wyatt to agree," she grumbles.

"I know, I kept expecting him to change his mind—and don't think he hasn't tried."

"I get where he's coming from. I don't like the thought of you in danger, Winnie."

"I'm not a fan myself. But again, it's just food, TV, and sleep. It'll be fine," I reply as I pull her in for a big hug.

"Be careful, okay? And call me as soon as it's over," she orders and she hugs me firmly. When we pull apart, I can see a hint of sadness in her eyes. It's not just the operation we set up for later tonight that's bothering her; it's Decker. She's wishing she could go back and not sleep with him. That way they could still have a shot...

#

Winter is ready for this. I have to keep telling myself that or I will pull the plug on this whole thing. I know she has a good reason for wanting to go through with this but that doesn't ease my anxiety in the least. Decker checked the equipment a number of times and I have gone over everything. We are good to go but that's just it, sometimes no matter how prepared you are, things go wrong.

I sit at my desk at the station, counting down until the start of the operation. It's a small one and it shouldn't be a big deal. Well, that is if my girl wasn't at the center of it. The number of ways this could go wrong begin to invade my mind. I get up and walk over to the coffee maker just so I can have something to do. I pour myself a cup I don't really plan on drinking. Decker walks into the station and signals me back over to him.

He tells me that he has joint custody of his daughter and I'm so fucking happy for him. This is the first time I've seen him relaxed in weeks. He's been freaked out and on edge ever since the custody issue started. He tells me that he and his wife are now one signature away from divorce. I know his wife; she's pretty but exhausting. I'm glad he gets to walk away if that's what he really wants.

"It's crazy, just like that, I get my life back and I get to have my little girl too." He beams.

"Well, that's great, man. And if Mia needs anything else assembled in her room, tell her to call me," I reply.

"Hey, she has me, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember. That's why I said to have her call me." I smirk. The lightness in my tone fades. The thoughts I've been trying to drive from my mind all day take hold.

Decker can see it on my face. "Hey, it's gonna be fine. We are good to go," he says.

"We better be," I mumble.

"I saw Winter this morning and she seems pretty calm. She's got a good head on her shoulders—when she's not jumping out into dumpsters," he adds.

"Where did you see her?"

"I saw her at...Jana's place," he says as he tries to busy himself with paperwork.

"What were you doing at Jana's?" I ask. He looks up at me and right away, I know what went down.

"Oh," is all I counter with.

"What?" he says, already defensive.

"I didn't say anything."

"You think she's too good for me?" he demands.

"Well, yeah, but so are most women," I joke. But I look back at him and it's easy to see he's not joking at all.

"Decker, Jana pretends to be all flash and flesh. But in reality she's a sweetheart. And she's a damn good friend to Winter. She's smart, she's fun, and she has a good heart. I think she'd be a good woman to get to know."

"I don't think she wants us to go beyond a one-time thing. I just got out of a marriage. She'll run as fast as she can. It's crazy, right? I should stay away?" he asks.

"You and your ex have been on the outs for a while now. The divorce just makes it official. I'm not saying marry Jana, I'm saying see what happens."

"She's different..." he says, mostly to himself.

"Okay, I don't want to hear about the crazy chandelier sex you two had," I warn him.

"No, it's not that. Well, there were some interesting items but not chandeliers—"

"Decker!" I scold him.

He laughs, "No, I'm kidding. When I said different I meant she's different. She's a serious gamer. She actually thinks she can beat me in Call of Duty. I mean, that's never gonna happen but it's so cute to let her try.

"Also she walked into the bar looking like she didn't give a fuck. She wasn't trying too hard or anything. She had an 'I know I'm worth it' attitude but somehow managed not to be a snob about it.

"And she can't reach anything in the upper cabinets because she's too damn short. But she refuses to get a stepladder because she says it makes her feel like she's admitting she's short. She's a freaking ball of crazy," he says with a smile I have never seen before.

"First, I bet she can beat you at that game, and second, what's the smile about?"

"She's really clever. She could have just made me a deadbeat dad, but no, she gave me erectile dysfunction. That's such a low blow," he says with admiration. I confess to being lost and he explains the ruse Jana made up to get him out of talking to some overbearing woman at the bar.

"That is low. I like it. Sorry I wasn't there to see your face," I reply as I pat him on the back.

"I thought she just a pretty face but she's really something else..."

***

It's a few hours later and Winter is all packed and ready to head back to her apartment. She is about to walk out of my house and get a cab over to her place. Everyone is in position. They are just waiting on me to let her go so she can be our official "bait."

"Okay, now one more thing," I begin. She cuts me off by giving me a passionate kiss. It's quick but nevertheless very effective in getting me to forget what I was gonna say. I growl when she pulls away.

"We can't go over this plan again, Wyatt. I'm packed. I'm ready. Let's do this," she says as she places her hand on the doorknob. I place my hand over hers. She feels me looming behind her. I want to protect her. I want to keep her in my house, in my arms for as long as I can. I love her so goddamn much. But I can't seem to say it out loud right now. If I express what I'm really feeling, I swear to God, she won't be going anywhere. So instead, I remain silent and let my head drop down to the nape of her neck. I wrap my other hand around her waist and pull her into my chest. She run her hands through my hair as my body drapes over her.

"I know, honey," she says softly. "I love you too."

***

Winter lives on the first floor, but there is a stairway before getting to her apartment. We were able to place cameras in both the stairway and the hallway. We also have cameras at the front of Winter's building and inside her apartment. One flight up from her place, officers set up monitors so we know what's going on.

We were able to enter Winter's apartment days earlier and found the perfect place to stash her so that when they entered her apartment, she would not be found. It's a back panel inside her bedroom closet. We forced it open and have just enough space to hide her. I'm standing just behind the wall that separates the bathroom from the bedroom. I have my gun out and am waiting for the signal from Decker.

Winter plays her part very well. She sticks to the plan, turns on the TV, and acts as normal as she can. She eventually gets ready for bed. She slips under the covers and turns off the light. As soon as she does that, Decker announces in my earpiece that six guys have now exited a dark blue car parked in front of the building. I give Winter the signal and she slips out of bed and into the back panel of the closet.

Decker fills me in on what's happening on the monitors. Based on their files, we know that the driver, AKA Murder, is the leader. He orders two of his guys to take on the lobby door. Once it's open, he orders two other members to follow him down the hallway. Capturing the two guys who break into the building is left to the officers parked a few cars back. Decker gives them the signal and they get the drop on them fairly quickly.

That leaves the leader and his two remaining members. They pick the lock on Winter's door and he orders them to stand watch as he makes his way inside the apartment. The leader uses his flashlight to guide him down the hall and into the dark bedroom. "Time to get up, bitch," he hisses as he finds the light switch on the wall and flips it on. He uses the pillow on the bed as a makeshift silencer and squeezes three bullets into the heap he believes is Winter. When he doesn't see blood, he sees pulls the covers off and is enraged to learn he's been tricked. He turns to warn the others but finds himself staring right into the barrel of my gun.

"Hands up," I command. And for a moment I can see him weighing out his options. He's wondering if there's any chance he can get me before I get him. "Try me," I warn him in a steely tone. He glares and snarls at me. "Hands. Now." He wisely puts his hands up. I take his gun and slam his face against the wall. I pat him down and handcuff him.

"Decker?" I shout.

"We're good to go," he shouts back. I grab the leader and drag him into the living room, where the rest of his crew have been disarmed and handcuffed. They are all now facedown on the floor. I go back into the bedroom and reach deep inside the closet for Winter.

"It's over, babe, you can come out," I tell her. She comes out from behind the closet, looking relieved. Suddenly, a high-pitched ritual cry hits the air; one of the gang members is sending out a message of some kind.

No, not a message; a command.

"EVERYBODY DOWN!" I shout; it's too late. A figure emerges from behind the bushes outside the bedroom window, Mac-10 in hand. I tackle Winter to the ground, hoping she'll miss the hail of bullets headed her way. We fall to the floor a millisecond before bullets spray the wall above us. He ducks back into the bushes to reload, and I return fire. I can hear Decker and his team as they race towards us to provide cover. The shooter comes back up, reloaded and ready, but before he can take aim again, I squeeze three rounds into his chest; he hits the ground.

"Go around back and make sure the fucker doesn't have any more friends with him," Decker barks to the team as I race over to Winter.

"You okay? You good? Are you hurt?" I plead as I look into Winter's eyes. She nods that she's okay and relief washes over me. I hear more cop cars as they approach the building. The members of the Street Kings are carried off in handcuffs.

"Let's go, babe, let's get you out of here," I tell her as I reach out my hand to help her up. She doesn't take my hand. There's something on the floor beside her.

Blood.

I rush down to the floor beside her, my knees soaking in a puddle of her blood. "Babe, open your eyes, open your eyes, babe. Babe!"

Shitshitshit!

I scoop her limp body up in my arms and run for help...

***

Decker is talking to me but he sounds so far away. Everything seems to be happening in slow motion. They rush her out of the ambulance, and the staff runs to her aid; they zip her away on a gurney and down the hall. I follow but they stop me once we get to the double doors. The harsh lighting of the hospital waiting room burns through the back of my eyes; the sound of staff and patients blur in the background. Someone comes towards me wearing all white, he calls my name but I'm lost in some fucking hole and his voice doesn't make it down to me.

"Wyatt!" Decker yells, shaking me back to reality.

"Doc, what's going on? How is she?" I beg.

"We're getting ready to operate. She was hit in the abdomen; we don't know how extensive the damage is until we get in there. I will send someone out to update you as soon as we have news," the doctor says.

"Wait! Wait. Is she gonna..." I beg.

"She's had extensive blood loss, suggesting the bullet may have nicked a major artery. We'll know more in the next few hours," he says as he disappears down the hall. Jana appears in the doorway of the emergency entrance with tears in her eyes.

Decker updates her as she weeps and hugs him. They turn their focus back to me but I am only there physically. In my mind, I'm home, in bed with Winter. It's raining. It's our first time we're laughing. She's laughing. And everything is okay. She wants to leave the bed but I pull her back into my embrace. She stays with me in the bed. Safe.

"Hi, bright eyes," I said to her as we held each other.

"Hi," she said lovingly.

"The only thing I'm here to do is love you. Do you believe me?" I ask.

"Yes."

"Then let me love you..." I replied.

"Wyatt! C'mon, buddy, you need to stay here with us," Decker says.

"Yeah, yeah, okay," I reply, forcing myself to stay present. I march towards the surgery room and Jana tries to stop me. "You need to wait here with us," she says.

"No, she needs me. I can't leave her alone," I insist. Decker steps up to help Jana get me back to the chair. "Wyatt, you have to stay here and let the doctors do their job," he says. I walk away from the double doors but begin to pace up and down the waiting room.

"I did this. I did this to her." I gasp.

"No, this isn't your fault. You aren't the one who shot her; the shooter is dead. You took care of him," Decker says.

"Bullshit! My job was to keep her safe. I promised that I would keep her safe! And then I put her in the middle of this bullshit!"

"No, Wyatt, she wanted to be a part of the plan," Jana says.

"I should have said no! I should have fucking said no!" I yell as I grab a fistful of hair and pull at it, hoping the physical pain will take away from the emotional devastation.

"I should call Bree and her parents. Can you watch Wyatt?" Jana says as she tries to contain her tears.

"I got it. Go call them and I'll take care of this," Decker says. He makes me sit down although I don't want to.

"Wyatt, look at me. Look at me," he demands. I lock eyes with him. He's calm and he's speaking in a soothing voice but I know my partner. I know he knows this is bad. This is the kind of night when families are notified that they have to make funeral arrangements. We've been here plenty of times.

"Look, man, you have to try and calm down. Winter needs you now."

"No! What Winter needed was a man who would protect her. Not someone who stood by and let her get shot! She was bleeding and her eyes...her pretty eyes...they wouldn't open...her eyes wouldn't open." Suddenly a series of flashes appear in my head involving the last moments of my sister's life. I'm standing over her, shaking her, begging her to open her eyes.

"Okay now, Wyatt, this is not like it was with Rose. Don't go there, man, don't do that," he begs. But it's too late. I'm already knee-deep in that nightmare.

"No! I am not gonna fucking lose her!" I rage as I burst through the double doors. They follow me, as does security. I don't give a shit. I burst into the operating room, but security grabs me and pulls me away as I call out her name.

Once they drag me back out into the waiting room, Decker shouts as he pulls them away from me. "Get off him!"

Security reluctantly backs off and warns, "Keep him under control."

"Get the fuck outta here!" Decker counters as Jana helps me get up off the floor.

"I'm fine!" I snap at her. She looks at me, and is yet again on the verge of tears. I know right away, I'm an asshole. She's terrified of losing Winter too. "Come here," I whisper as I lean in and embrace her. She sobs on my shoulders.

"Wyatt, look," Decker says, signaling towards the entrance. My mother enters looking pale with worry; I sprint over to meet her. She embraces me and tells me that my dad is on his way.

"Mom, she wouldn't open her eyes." I sob as we break away from the hug. She reaches out and wipes my tears away. Her voice is firm and controlled.

"Now, you stop that. You picked a strong woman. A woman who doesn't give up just because things are hard. She fought to let you in her heart and she will fight to stay in this world and be loved by you. You keep it together and be the man she needs. The man I know you are."

"Mom, if she dies...I don't know..."

"That's just it, son, you don't know. You keep your faith. Whatever it is that brought you two together will help keep you together." Her words hit me like a Mack truck. I know what I have to do and where I need to be. I run out of the hospital at top speed.

"Where are you going?" Jana shouts.

"I'm going to see a badass about a girl and a toad."

#

The sight of me running up to the guard booth in my bloody clothes is the last thing the security guard expects to see. I place my badge up against the booth and he lets me enter. He asks if everything is okay and if I need help. I do, but not from him. I assure him that everything is fine and that I just came to visit someone. He looks at me with an odd expression but I don't have time to explain myself. I enter the cemetery and run over to the mausoleum where Rose is buried.

"Hi, Rosy," I whisper as I place my hand on her plaque.

"I know, I know, I haven't come to see you in years and then all of a sudden I come twice in the same week. But I really needed to talk to you. You remember the time Mr. Awesome went missing? You wanted to gather a search party. You were so upset. You thought Logan did it. Things got crazy and Mom ended up grounding all of us. Then a few days later Mr. Awesome showed up in a nondescript brown paper bag on your bed. You were so glad, you didn't even care who had taken it. You hugged that damn thing like it was your best friend.

Rose, I took the toad as a joke. I didn't know you'd be so upset about losing it. And when I realized that it really hurt you, I gave it back. But I didn't want to get in trouble, so I put it back in secret. I'm sorry. And if Mr. Awesome were here, I'd beg his forgiveness too. I didn't know how much it mattered to you until I saw what you were like without it." A sharp pain travels across my chest as I try to manage the grief that's threatening to pull me under. I take a deep breath and force myself to keep going.

"Rose, the reason I'm telling you this is because you sent me someone, someone very special, and I didn't take good care of her. And now, she might be gone forever. And just like when I took the toad, I didn't know the effect it would have. Well I didn't know the effect Winter really had on my life until she was wounded and dying in my arms. I need you to help me. I don't know how you're supposed to do it but I know if anyone can, it's you.

When you went away from my life, it broke me. I missed you so much. I was empty for so long, Rosy. And I was angry because you left. I hated the world because you weren't in it. And I never thought you would really come through and send me someone, but you did. You sent me Winter. I didn't start really living again until I laid eyes on her. That's when I knew you were really up there, looking out for me, even if I didn't deserve it.

"You did a fantastic job. She's strong, she's so kind, and she stands up for people she loves. She has horrible taste in candy but she's the love of my life. And you gave her to me. And now I am standing here, begging you please, please don't take her from me.

"I lost you; I can't lose her. I won't survive." I rest my head on the plaque. "I'm serious, Rosy. I'm your older brother, you have to do as I say, don't take her, please don't take her..."

***

I call Decker and he tells me there is no news yet and he asks when I'm coming back to the hospital. I let him know that I will be there as soon as I shower. I don't really care about being clean right now but I think my mother is right. I have to keep going as if she will wake up because she has to. There's just no way I can process any other future but the one I will have with her. She will wake up, simply because I need her to. And because I am nowhere near done with loving her. So, it's decided. She will wake up.

And when she wakes up, I don't want her to see me covered in blood. I also don't want her parents to see me this way when I enter the hospital. Decker tells me they just arrived. I go home and get in the shower. It's scalding hot but I like it. I want the heat to erase all the ugliness I just saw. I put on jeans and the grey sweater that she loves. I remember telling her that it now has her scent and how much I loved that. She joked about it being her way to mark her territory.

I hurry out of the house and head back to the hospital. I greet Bree and her daughter. She introduces me to her parents. Mr. Bennett is a short, nervous man in his mid-sixties with small eyes and a kind face.

"She's a fighter, our girl. I know that," he says as tears escape down his face.

"I don't understand. How did she get involved in this whole thing? Guns and gangs? What has her life become?" Mrs. Bennett says. She's about the same age as her ex-husband. She has sliver hair, and wears a colorful sweater that says "I knit because it's cheaper than therapy." I smile to myself as I remember Winter telling me her mom takes up a new hobby like every other week. I guess it's knitting this week. I explain to her what happened and how it was my fault to begin with.

"No, it wasn't. Our daughter would have found a way to help. That's just who she is," her mother assures me.

"Mom's right. I know how much you love her. According to Decker, if it hadn't been for you getting her out of the way, it could have been much worse," Bree says as she hugs me. My family introduces themselves to Winter's family and together we brace ourselves and pray for the best. We sit in the waiting room for what seriously feels like years. In fact, it's a total of five and a half hours. Finally the head surgeon comes out and speaks to us.

"I'm sorry about the long wait but I'm happy to report that the bullet missed all major organs and didn't nick any arteries. It's really quite miraculous," he says.

"So she's going to be okay?" I plead.

"Yes—she won't be able to run a marathon or anything for a while but she will make a full recovery." Jana weeps with relief as do the rest of us.

Thank you, Rosy. Thank you. Thank you...

It takes everything I have not to be the first through the doors to see her. I know her parents are losing their minds, so I let them go in first. But they are so merciful, they insist that I go in and they will remain outside until I'm done.

I enter her room and see her lying there: pale, weak, and small. Yet somehow, she's still the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. There's a dull ache radiating throughout my body as I stand over her. I kiss her forehead and pull up a chair beside her bed. I place my hand inside hers and put my head near her.

"I'm so sorry, babe. This was all my fault," I whisper, unable to keep my voice steady. I feel her hand move towards me. She lightly runs her fingers though my hair. I sit up and look into her sparkling eyes.

She smiles weakly and mumbles, "So next year, I think I'm gonna skip bring your girlfriend to work day if that's okay with you," she jokes. I laugh and kiss the palm of her hand.

"Hi," she says.

"Hi."

"Are you okay?" she asks.

"I think that's my line," I reply.

"I'm better now that I can see your face."

"Are you in pain?" I ask.

"Not a lot, and the doctor said the pain meds are kicking in, so soon I won't feel anything."

"I'm so sorry, babe. I should have—"

"Wyatt, stop. You shielded me with your body, what else can a girl ask for?"

"I thought you were gone, I thought..."

"Hey, you sound like a man in need of a joke. Guess what class Mom is starting next week?"

"Whatever it is, I don't think it will make me laugh right now, babe," I admit.

"She's taking a class called 'Long Time Cuming: Tantric Sex for Seniors.'"

I was wrong; I laugh so hard my eyes water. And together the two of us make so much noise the staff has to come in and scold us. When our laughter dies down, we look in each other's eyes and it's clear this didn't break us. It only made us stronger...

***

Bree and my parents have just left after spending the morning with me in the hospital. I'm so glad this is my last day here. They took great care of me but I can't wait to go back home. Carlos enters my hospital room along with his brother, Luis, not long after my family leaves.

My room looks like the greeting card aisle at Rite Aid Pharmacy. Jana helped organize all the kids from the center and they made me these awesome cards. I have over a hundred of them. But my favorite gift is the hand drawn bird in midflight done in charcoal that Carlos has just handed to me.

"You did such a stellar job, Carlos, I love this! But I should pay you for it," I offer.

"Yeah, she's right," Wyatt says as he takes out his wallet.

Carlos holds up his hand. "No, it's a gift. I did it to tell you...I'm sorry about wanting to join the Street Kings. It was stupid," he says, looking at the floor.

"You made the right decision in the end. That's what matters. You could have said no to going away and stayed with the Street Kings but you didn't," Wyatt says.

"I'm glad I didn't. Ms. Bennett, thanks for...you know," he says, suddenly shy.

"You are very welcome. And I love my gift," I reply.

"Carlos has something to tell you, Ms. Bennett," Luis says.

"He does? Okay, out with it. Is everything okay?" I ask.

"Luis's family is going to adopt me," he says with a big grin. I squeal like a kid.

"I thought they had money issues and couldn't afford to take in another kid," I reply.

"They got some kind of stipend from this foundation," Luis says. I look up at Wyatt and narrow my eyes. He shrugs his shoulder as if to say he has no idea what the kids are talking about.

I bring him close to my face. When he leans down, I whisper, "Did you do this?"

"If I did would you fight me on it?" he asks.

"Not one bit," I reply. Our eyes lock and it's like I'm falling in love with him all over again.

"Hey, don't look at her like that, she's my woman!" Luis says. I suppress a smile.

"Oh, you and Ms. Bennett?" Wyatt asks.

"Yes, she's mine. We're getting married and everything—later, after I've had my fun," Luis says in a matter-of-fact voice.

"Okay man, I get it. Can I talk to you for a second?" Wyatt says, taking Luis aside. I don't know what they talk about, but Luis turns to me and says, "Ms. Bennett, looks like I'm gonna have to move on. Sorry, but I'm not a guy that can be tied down." I laugh as he leaves the room along with Carlos.

"What did you say to him?" I ask Wyatt.

"I told him that I saw some really nice and pretty girls looking at him when I went to talk at the center. And I asked him if he was sure he really wanted to be stuck with you, after all he's a cute kid, lots of options," Wyatt jokes.

My jaw drops. I pretend to be hurt. "I just got dumped!" I tease.

"It's okay, babe, I'll be your rebound guy," he says as he leans over and kisses me.

"I would say get a room but..." Decker says as he opens the door and enters my room. He kisses me on the forehead and hands me some flowers.

"Aw, they are so pretty. Thank Jana for me."

"How do you know I didn't pick them out? I have great taste," Decker replies.

"She knows the same way she knows that Jana beat you in Call of Duty," Wyatt adds.

"Hey, hey, she didn't beat me. She just...has a temporary lead. I'm coming back strong," he vows.

"Yeah, right. Where is Jana?" I ask.

"Oh she's sorry she couldn't come. She got this nasty cold from babysitting the toddler next door."

"Oh, okay. I'll call her later to check on her," I reply.

"It's okay, I'll tell her you said hi," Decker says.

"You going there now?" I ask.

"Yeah, right after I pick up some cold meds for her at the pharmacy. She said she had some but I figure I'll get extra in case she runs out. Oh, and some chicken soup. They make really good soup at the market a few blocks from her place," Decker says. I try to hide my smile but I can't. The guys ask me what is making me smile but I don't tell them. Soup guys are so clueless.

***

This is my first week out of the hospital and Wyatt is finally treating me normally. In the beginning he fussed and would not let me do anything—including have sex. I accused him of having no idea how hard it was to have to abstain from sex. He narrowed his eyes and raised his eyebrows as if to say "Are you kidding?" I couldn't help but laugh.

I was in the hospital and I missed his birthday. I also missed Thanksgiving, so tonight our families get together and make a big feast. When we are at the table I finally get to give him his gift—the cookbook with dishes from around the world, the one he used to cook with Rose. With the help of his mom, I was able to have notes from Rose superimposed though out the book. That way it felt like she was there, giving him a hand as he cooked. I hand him the gift, and everyone at the table turns to watch him unwrap it.

I honestly don't know what I expected him to say. I thought maybe he'd smile and say "thanks, babe" or something but he doesn't. He looks at the book and the handwritten notes from Rose, and then he looks up at me.

"Do you like it?" I ask, hoping I didn't make a big mistake.

"No, I don't like it. I love it. I love it so much," he says thickly. I grin and hug him.

"But there's something else I want for my birthday. Something only you can give me," he says. He gets down on one knee and takes out a stunning ring. It has diamond-encrusted bird wings that meet in the middle, with a large diamond in the center.

"I didn't think all my problems could go away in a flash but that's what happens when you smile at me. It doesn't matter what happens on the job because when I come home to you, you make it all better. Your love fixed me. I want to spend the rest of my life making you as happy as you have made me. You think that I rescued you that night in alley but the truth is, you saved me. And you have been saving me every day since then. I love you more than anything in this world, will you marry me?"

There's a big lump in my throat and tears spring to my eyes. It's hard to see him behind the tears, it's actually blurry. ARGH! Stupid Winter! Stop crying and use your words. I wipe my eyes as the entire room waits for my answer.

"Wyatt, this doesn't make sense. We have only known each other for a few weeks. And yet I know in my soul that I don't want to belong to anyone but you. When we first met you said that I would have to find a place to land sooner or later. And I did. I found you: my safe place to land. I love you so much. Yes, yes! I will marry you!"

#

Three years later

We are under attack! I think back to how this all started and I know for a fact that my wife is to blame. First of all we were going to foster one kid, my son Ben. But Ben has two brothers, and well, you know my wife. We ended up adopting all three of them: Ben, Kevin, and Ricky. That's not why I blame her. I love our sons and I can't imagine life without them.

What I blame my wife for is forgetting to lock the bedroom door. That's how we walked right into this pillow fight ambush. Ben is four, Kevin is six, and Ricky is eight. You'd think they would be too young to plan a coordinated attack but here they are kicking our butts. And for the record, these aren't light pillows. These kids are way too strong.

"Seriously, what are we feeding you guys?" I ask as Ben jumps on my chest, pillow in hand.

"Hey, you can't attack me, I'm your mom!" Winter reminds Kevin.

"Sorry, Mom, I gotta do this," he says as he brings the pillow down on her head.

"Babe, I'm coming to rescue you," I shout as if she really were in trouble.

"Kevin, Ben, get Dad!" Ricky shouts. They gang up on us and finish us.

"Okay, okay! We give up! We surrender," my wife says with a dramatic bow at their feet. The boys jump up and down excitedly.

"Now if all of you little terrors are not in bed by the time I count to five, no one is going ice staking tomorrow," I warn.

My wife starts counting. "One, two..." We hear the patter of tiny feet racing throughout the house. We laugh as they make their way to their room.

"This place is crazy. When are we gonna clean this stuff up?" she says as she surveys the damage in the bedroom.

"It's already messy, babe. Let's make it even messier," I reply as I shove the things off the dresser, grab her ass, and hoist her onto it. She laughs and places her arms around my shoulders. She looks up at me. God, I love the way she looks up at me. And I love that I get to be in her life.

"You know we need to go to bed early, right? I have an early meeting with the city," she reminds me.

"Yes, and did I tell you how proud I am of you for expanding your program to two centers now?"

"Yes, but tell me again." She laughs.

"I am really proud of you. And I saw Carlos last week. Do you know they gave him another spot in the 'new artist to watch' section at the Hudson gallery?"

"Yes! He told me. I can't wait to see it. I was gonna go next week but we have Bree's dinner. She's going all out. It's crazy how much she's paying for."

"Yeah but it's not every day she gets one of her pieces into Art & Design. I get her wanting to go all out," I reply. Bree and her husband never got back together. She moved to NYC and opened up what is quickly becoming a popular design brand. She dates often, but her heart is with Lily and her business. It's nice to see her find her way.

"Yeah, you're right. You and Decker are working tomorrow, right?" My wife asks.

"Yeah, new case. Why?" I ask.

"I need to steal Jana from him for the night. We're going shopping. I need a dress for the dinner and you need a new suit."

"What I need is my wife, naked and legs open," I tease as I nibble on her ear.

"Wyatt, no. We need to go to bed," she insists. I knead her breasts and taunt them with my lips. "Okay, maybe we can go to bed a little late," she says as she sighs and arches her back.

I kiss her neck and whisper, "At that dinner you are having with Bree, don't drink any alcohol, okay?"

"Um...okay, why?"

"You're pregnant," I reply.

"What? No! I'm not...Am I?"

I don't say anything; I just smirk.

"Wyatt, what makes you think I'm pregnant?"

I whisper in her ear, "Babe, I know your body..."

***

It's a year later and our daughter Rose has just started sleeping through the night. The boys love her and argue over who gets to help feed her. She's a perfect little baby, and we are hopelessly in love with her.

It's late in the Hunter household when I check on baby Rose. She's sound asleep, thank God. On my way back to the bedroom, I hear my wife inside the boys' room. She's just finished telling them a bedtime story.

"One more!" Ben shouts.

"I have a story for you," I say as I stand in the doorway. "Did I ever tell you about the time I found something in the dumpster?" I tease. My wife shakes her head and starts to laugh.

"Daddy, what did you find? Was it treasure?" Ben asks.

I look over at my wife. "Yes, it was the biggest treasure in the world..."

***

Need more of the Hunter brothers in your life?

Click below to pre-order "Anything For Her" (Logan Hunter's story!)

<https://www.amazon.com/dp/B077MT5H89>

#

If you enjoyed this book, please take a moment to leave a review on the site where you bought this book. And please join us for the second book in the "Hunter Brothers Series" titled "Anything For Her" (The story of Logan Hunter)

Also please stop by our Facebook page, we'd love to hear from you: https://www.facebook.com/guardiansgirl/

And sign up for our mailing list so you'll be the first to know when our next romance book comes out!

<http://eepurl.com/c-gh7T>
