I ended up getting arrested.
“Is this really necessary?” I asked for the third time, wiggling my cuffed hands behind my back. “It’s not like you don’t know where I live. Do you really think I’d make a run for it?”
“It’s procedure.”
Procedure, my ass. This was payback for the time in third grade when I wouldn’t let him play catch with us. “So why did I watch you lead Milton into your car without cuffing him after he started a fight at the Donut Hole?”
“The circumstances were different. Now shut up and get out of the car.” Ray was standing next to the open door, one hand on my arm the other on the door, ready to help me up and inside the police station.
“Fine. But I’m not spending the night in a jail cell. If Milton didn’t have to, then I won’t either.”
“You are just as big of a pain as always,” he grumbled.
I grinned my most obnoxious grin at him, the one with a lot of teeth and not much face. Ray’s eyes went wide, and he stared at me. “What happened to your mouth? It’s blue.”
Said mouth snapped closed, and I shut up. Guess it took more than a few hours to get rid of the blue. He led me to the big, open-plan office and sat me down on a chair. “Someone will be with you shortly.”
“I want to talk to my lawyer.”
“You don’t have a lawyer.”
“How would you know?”
He shot me a look, and I shot one back at him. No need to get personal.
He rolled his eyes and walked away. At least he had removed my cuffs.
Getting arrested by the Humptulips Police Department meant that by tomorrow the whole town would know about it. Thanks to Dad’s frequent arrests, everyone and their dog knew our family. The gossips would go crazy over my arrest since the daughter finally joined her dad in the family tradition.
Twenty-one years without an arrest. I thought I hit a low point when I got a perm that took over a year to grow out. Guess I didn’t know shit back then. I sank into the chair and waited for whoever was stuck with my paperwork. But instead of an officer, Jameson showed up.
“Come on, let’s go.”
He held out his hand, but all I was capable of doing was stare at it. If he was breaking me out, he had to pry me out of this chair kicking and screaming. Prison breaks weren’t my style, and I was staying.
“They know where I live,” I said.
Jameson wrinkled his forehead in confusion. “What does it matter?”
“They’ll find me.”
“Why would they try and find you?”
“Because you’re breaking me out?”
That’s when he started laughing, his voice booming, the sound entirely too pleasant for my dire situation. Didn’t he understand that I was about to be put into a jail cell?
“I’m not breaking you out. You’re free to go. Weren’t you wondering why you’re not cuffed anymore?”
I was wondering about that but just thought that Ray might have found his tiny black heart. Apparently he didn’t have a heart at all, since he didn’t tell me that I was free to go.
“That bastard. He told me to wait here.”
Jameson took my hand and pulled me out of the chair. “Come on, let’s get you home.”
Jameson’s truck was parked in the police department’s parking lot, and like the gentleman he was, he helped me into my seat, brushing my butt a few times in the process.
I pouted all the way back to my apartment. It was childish and unnecessary. I knew that. But I also felt like, if there was ever a good time to pout, it was now. I screwed up not only going to Jacob by myself without telling anyone but by being an ungrateful brat to Jameson. He saved my bacon, and I told him off.
Then he got me out of an arrest. Wait, how did he get me out, exactly?
We pulled up to my apartment, and Jameson parked his massive truck expertly in one of the tiny parking spaces. Before he had a chance to open his door, I stopped him with a hand on his arm. “How did you make them drop the charges? I pissed them off good this time.”
He leaned in closer and pressed a kiss to my lips. Gentle, soft, perfect. I think I sighed but couldn’t be too sure. “I called in a favor.” He got out and rounded the car to open my door. “Let’s get you inside.”
He helped me out of the car, and I secretly enjoyed his big hands on my body. I never considered myself tiny, but I was compared to Jameson. He took my hand as soon as my feet hit the ground and walked me inside. Mrs. Winters’s door opened as we walked past, and she emerged decked out in her boots and thick fur coat. She never left the house without it, not even on a ninety-degree day. Churchill was bouncing along beside her, biting his lead.
“Hello, dear. How was your day? I hope we didn’t make you too late for your appointment,” she said.
“Good evening, Mrs. Winters. I made it just in time.”
“You have to let me know where you got the dog toy from. I have to get one for Winston Churchill. He loved it.”
“I don’t remember where I bought it,” I mumbled, my face turning red.
“That’s okay, my dear.” She turned towards her dog. “Come on, let’s go outside and practice going to the toilet somewhere that isn’t my apartment.”
As soon as the door closed behind them, Jameson burst out laughing. I shook my head at him and grabbed his arm, dragging him along with me. “Let’s get inside. I can’t deal with anything else today.”
“It wasn’t all that bad. There were at least a few memorable moments.” He had moved closer, and we were walking up the stairs with my back pressed to his front. His hands trailed my stomach, and I could feel a growing bulge digging into my back. He pulled me closer, and my steps faltered.
“They couldn’t have been that memorable since I seem to have forgotten all about them.”
We reached my apartment door, Jameson stopped me, turned me around, and pinned me to the door. “Then I guess I’ll just have to remind you.”
He leaned down and pressed his mouth to mine. I opened immediately, and the kiss turned from a reminder into a scorcher. Of all the things Jameson was good at, kissing topped that list. And he was damn good at a lot of things.
I fumbled with the door, and after failing to open it while kissing Jameson, I broke away and unlocked my door. As soon as it gave way, Jameson lifted me up and my legs wound around him.
A throat clearing stopped Jameson’s hands that were travelling up my shirt and made us pull apart. I looked inside my apartment and at my Dad.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I snapped at him, furious. “I was looking everywhere for you. Do you know how much shit you got me in?”
He stood up from where he was sitting on my old couch and approached but stopped when I held up my hand. “You owe Jameson ten thousand dollars.”
Dad looked embarrassed. “I’ll pay him back. I just don’t have the money right now.”
I couldn’t keep the bitterness out of my voice when I responded. “Of course you don’t. Because if you did, I wouldn’t have had to spend the last five hours sitting on Jacob’s couch, hoping nobody put a bullet through my head.”
“I’m sorry, honey, but you know how it is.”
“Yes, I know all too well. And I know something else. I’m done. You can’t keep dragging me into your mess. Until you get your shit together, I’m done.” I stepped out of the hallway and pointed to the front door. “Get out.”
“Willa—”
“Now. I don’t want you in my apartment. Don’t call me, and stop involving me in your shit.”
He heard the finality in my voice and walked out, leaving a muttered, “I’m sorry, honey,” in his wake.
I watched Dad leave and closed the door as soon as he was in the hallway. Jameson had stepped inside and was watching me but stayed quiet. Never before had I cut Dad out of my life, but I couldn’t do it anymore. The first tear trickled down my cheek, and I wiped it away angrily. Why was I feeling so sad if he deserved everything I said to him?
I was confused and angry at myself for not doing something sooner. My life was a mess. And I had let it get to this point. Suddenly Jameson was there, putting his big arms around me and pulling me into his hard chest.
I buried my head in his neck and let out a deep sigh. I didn’t know how I would be able to let go of him once he was ready to move on.
“Let me take care of you tonight,” he said, resting his cheek on my head.
I sniffled into his chest. “Will it involve pizza?”
He hugged me closer. “Definitely. And if you’re lucky, I’ll throw in some beer.”
He made good on his promise and ordered three large pizzas. Jameson didn’t mess around. He said he would take care of me, and he did. He even bought beer. Now some might think that was selfish of him, but they wouldn’t know how much I loved it. And for some reason, Jameson knew that.
He seemed to know a lot about me. My favorite movie—Lethal Weapon—my favorite dessert—any cupcake I could get my hands on. He even knew my favorite pizza toppings—pretty much anything they can fit on one large pizza.
We were camped out on my couch, watching Mel Gibson get blown up. It was the perfect night. I was full, slightly tipsy, and leaning against Jameson. He pulled me close as soon as we sat down and started playing with my hair, trailing his finger down my arm. I was in a Jameson-induced fog and had no intention of emerging.
After finishing off the pizza, I buried myself into his side and rested my beer on his lap. His hand was now buried underneath my shirt. I didn’t recall the moment he had gotten in there but couldn’t say I objected.
“Will you stay?” I asked before I lost my nerve. I wouldn’t have asked at all if it hadn’t been for the fog I was under.
“Do you want me to stay?”
I moved my head to look at him. “Yes.”
He leaned down and kissed me in response. The kiss was soft and over too soon, leaving me wanting more.
“Then I will,” he said simply.
I sat up and put my beer on the table. Jameson watched my every move, probably questioning my sudden activity after my bout of lethargy. I turned back to him and lifted a leg over his lap so I was facing him. My hands found their way into his T-shirt, pulling it over his head.
“Thank you for your help today.” I should have said this earlier, but my pride wouldn’t let me. But his unwavering support was overwhelming. Sure, I had my friends who I knew would drop everything and come to my rescue if I had asked. But somehow it felt different with Jameson. He seemed ready for whatever curveball I threw at him. He seemed to wait for it and was ready to catch it when I needed him to.
“I’ll pay you back the money. This time I’ll be actually working it off. I’m sorry I got mad at you.”
A smile hovered on his lips. “How sorry?”
I kissed him, deep and long, wanting him to know how much he meant to me. I pushed closer, the feel of his body on mine almost too much. He was perfection in a muscly, huge package. He tugged my shirt up, and I broke the kiss to pull it off. “Very sorry.”
Once my shirt was gone, I leaned back in, but Jameson stopped me, brushing his lips to mine. “I want you to know that this is so much more to me than just sex. You turned my world upside down, and I never want it the right way up again.” I felt his lips moving with every word, the slight brush sending tingles from my lips all the way to my toes.
Damn, I must be a good kisser if that was his reaction. His words invaded my heart and settled deep, taking root. “Good thing I kind of like you then,” I responded.
The smile that broke out on his face was a thing of beauty, an image I wanted to engrave on my brain and never forget. He didn’t let me stare at him for long but instead stood up, holding me in his arms. “Bedroom?”
I pointed to one of the two doors in my small apartment. One bedroom, one bathroom, big enough to not feel like I was living in a sardine can.
He pushed the door open and dropped me on the bed, following close behind, bracing his fall with his hands on either side of my pliable body. I snort-giggled at him, the sound echoing through the room, and I slapped a hand over my face to stop the noise from escaping.
He peeled my hand away from my face, holding it. “Don’t hide who you are from me.”
I knew he didn’t just mean the failed giggle slash snort, and I fell a little more for him. I hoped there was a soft landing at the bottom, because this girl was going down fast.
Jameson made quick work of my shirt and pants, leaving me only in my underwear. I’d love to be able to say it was black lace, but in reality I had on a bright pink bra with white hearts and purple boy shorts with a handprint on the back. He grinned when he saw my choice of underwear and trailed kisses from my neck down, paying close attention to the area not covered by my bra.
I shivered every time his mouth made contact with my skin. Goose bumps were taking permanent residence over my whole body, and I shivered. “You cold?” he asked, stopping his ministrations and lifting his head.
“Not at all,” I replied, breathless.
Satisfied with my response, he continued his task, raining kisses on my chest, paying special attention to my nipples, making me squirm on the bed. He stopped my movements by placing his big hands on each side of my torso, brushing his thumbs along the side of my breasts.
“You are beautiful,” he said, and brushed his lips against the corner of my mouth. “And mine. Don’t ever forget that.” Another brush of his lips, this time behind my ear. “I take care of what’s mine.”
And boy, did he ever. I guess the whole ban on licking him was now moot and dead. There would definitely be licking in his future.