Chapter 31 Sloane
“Not yet.”
My nails dig into his glutes as I try and speed up his movements, but he holds firm to his excruciatingly measured pace. His jaw is clenched, and sweat is dripping down his face with the effort to maintain control.
“You’re not human,” I accuse him, as he keeps me teetering on the edge of a climax I just know is going to blow my head off.
It feels like it was hours ago he woke me up with his mouth between my legs. The man has fast become an expert at playing my body like a finely tuned instrument. He’s at his most playful in the early morning hours, when there is less chance of Aspen waking up, so he can torture me mercilessly.
“Dan, please …” I plead.
It’s almost painful, every nerve in my body vibrating with a need only he seems able to elicit. But when he slides his hands behind my knees to spread them wider, I know he’s reached the edge of his restraint.
Release comes fast and violently, with Dan’s face shoved in my neck and his cock planted deep. It feels like I’m having some sort of out-of-body experience, and if not for his weight keeping me anchored to the mattress, I might have levitated off the bed.
“Christ, baby,” he pants against my skin. “I don’t think I can move.”
“Hmm,” is all I manage. I’m content lying here, surrounded by Dan, suspended in time.
Lounging in bed is a luxury I haven’t had much opportunity for since I returned to work as a sheriff’s deputy. Both Dan and I start at seven in the morning, and I drop Aspen off at the wonderful daycare I found for her on the way into town. On the weekends we’ve been working on the house. So I’m enjoying these few extra mindless moments.
But eventually thoughts of the busy days ahead creep in. They’ll be different from the hectic few months behind us to get the house done, or the crazy weekend to get us all moved in. Today is my first of three vacation days leading into the holiday weekend, but I won’t have time to relax.
First to arrive today are Mom and Steve. They’re renting their own car in Kalispell so won’t need a pick up, but I should probably get this house in order. My parents are staying with Sully and Pippa, but I still have to get our house ready for guests. Last night we rolled into bed but there are still plenty of boxes to be unpacked, and I haven’t even started on putting together the guest rooms where Dan’s family will be staying on Thanksgiving.
I actually suggested that. Since Lindsey and her family are already at Dan’s father’s place in Kalispell, initially the plan had been for them to head back there after Thanksgiving dinner before they return to Durango again the next day. That way we have a chance to spend some quality time with everyone. We’ll have a few days to spend with Mom and Steve before the holiday, and we’ve already visited with David, Dan’s father, a couple of times since he’s only an hour or so away. However, I haven’t met Lindsey or her family yet, although I’ve spoken to her on the phone, and I thought it might be nice to get to know them.
“I’m guessing the fun is done?”
Dan nuzzles my neck and presses what feels like a brand-new morning erection against my thigh.
“You’re inhuman,” I accuse him.
He pushes off me and grins down. His hair is standing every which way and he still has the imprint of his pillow on the side of his face, but his eyes sparkle, his smile is contagious, and he is by far the most beautiful man I’ve ever known. Inside and out.
I’m about to tell him so when the baby monitor jumps to life with a loud squeal. Our little alarm clock is up and ready for the day.
“I’ll get her,” Dan volunteers, hopping out of bed.
Another thing that makes him beautiful is the way he adores Aspen as much as he adores me, and is not afraid to show us every day. I want my daughter to grow up knowing she deserves nothing less.
“Hey,” I call out when he disappears into the hallway.
He pokes his head back around the corner. “Yeah?”
“You know I love you, right?”
In two steps he bridges the distance to the bed, and I find myself half hauled up in his arms and kissed breathless. When he lifts his head, he has a tiny smirk on his face.
“Yeah, I know. You show me every day, still good to hear the words though.”
I immediately make a mental note to get in the habit of telling him more often.
“Somebody’s out of patience,” he points out.
You definitely don’t need the monitor to hear the loud wailing coming from down the hall. As easy and compliant a baby as she was not that long ago, she appears to have run low on patience at seven months old. She lets us know when she wants something, and right now she wants some attention.
Dan kisses the tip of my nose before darting back out of the room.
For the next few minutes, I sit on the edge of the bed, the baby monitor pressed against my ear, a smile on my face, listening to the two of them chat it up.
This is my life now, and I love it.
Dan
“Good to see you.”
I try not to show my surprise when I open the door to find Jillian Lederman standing on our porch with a large shopping bag in her hand.
I know Sloane stays in touch with her, but she never mentioned she’d invited her for Thanksgiving.
“Come in,” I quickly add, stepping aside and inviting her into the chaos the house has turned into.
My family already arrived a couple of hours ago, which apparently is enough time for four-year-old Cherry and almost two-year-old Chloe to lose any and all inhibitions. Chloe is currently running around the room, buck naked, with her diaper stuck around one ankle, while big sister Cherry is giggling her little ass off as she tries to catch up with her.
The football game is on TV in the living room with Sully and Wolff watching, while Pippa, and my brother-in-law, Wapi, are talking engines. Carmi is on her belly on the floor, playing with Aspen, and Steve—who turns out to be a huge NASCAR fan—is at the dining table with my father in deep conversation, not really bothered by the mayhem around them. Isobel, Lindsey, and Sloane are in the kitchen, hanging around the island drinking wine.
“Jillian! You made it,” Sloane calls out when she catches sight of her.
As Jillian makes her way to the kitchen I notice Wolff, halfway out of his seat, a shocked expression on his face as he follows her with his eyes. He seems to catch himself and sits back down, but not before Sully takes note as well. Interesting.
“Can I get anyone another drink?” I ask the group in the living room. “Wolff? Another beer? Something stronger?”
Sully chuckles as Wolff shoots me a dirty look.
“I’m good,” he grumbles.
Sully hands me his empty, and Wapi does the same.
When I walk into the kitchen to get them fresh beers, I notice the conversation between the women huddled around the kitchen island stops abruptly.
“Am I interrupting?”
Sloane shakes her head, her eyes innocently wide. A sure sign she’s lying through her teeth.
“No, no. Jillian was just telling me she brought dessert, would you mind getting it from the back of her SUV?”
Dessert? We have five pies sitting on the kitchen counter.
A strangled sound comes from my sister and when I turn to her, she slaps a hand over her mouth. Something’s definitely going on.
Still, I focus on Jillian, whose expression is completely blank. “Sure, gimme your keys.”
I drop the beers off for the guys and head outside. Using her key fob, I open the gate on the SUV, and am greeted with an excited yip.
No pies, but a dog crate takes up almost all the space in the back. Inside is a giant puppy, wild fur, tongue lolling, and tail wagging. The remnants of a red bow, I’m sure was originally tied to the crate, is now laying at the pup’s massive feet.
When I look back at the house, I catch sight of Sloane coming toward me, a smile on her face, as Jillian, my sister, and my mother-in-law have come out on the porch.
“We agreed no presents,” I remind Sloane.
We had this conversation last month when she asked what I wanted for my birthday, which was last week. I told her I already had everything I could want, and to keep her money in her pocket. She agreed on the condition I didn’t buy her anything when hers comes around either.
“We agreed no birthday presents,” she corrects me, a smile on her face. “And before you bring up the money thing, River is a rescue.”
“River?”
“He already had the name,” she clarifies with a shrug.” I thought it was kismet.”
The dog is getting impatient and starts gnawing at the metal bars. The moment I slide back the lock, he shoves the crate door open and launches himself at me, leading with his tongue.
“He’s house-trained and Jillian says he’s good with kids and with other animals,” Sloane adds.
I lift the dog out of the vehicle, holding him up in front of me. He’s going to be a big boy, he’s heavy already. When I put him down, he immediately moves to greet Sloane, his whole body wiggling with excitement.
This morning I would’ve told you there’s nothing more I could wish for, but Sloane managed to find the one thing our house was missing.
I slide my arm around her, and with my other hand, turn her face to me.
“You realize my promise to you is null and void now, right?”
She rolls her eyes and I press a hard kiss on her mouth.
Little does she know I already have my eye on a pretty paint filly at High Meadow.
With the pup already stumbling up the porch steps ahead of us to meet the rest of the family, I lead Sloane back to our very full, now even more chaotic house.
Damn , how’d I get so lucky?
Jillian
“You guys be good, okay?”
I get whines and whimpers from Hunter and Murphy, who are crowding around my legs as I try to get out. Emo is being her aloof self, curled up on the carpet in front of the fireplace, pretending not to care whether I come or go, but I know the moment I walk out the door, she’ll be up on the chair by the window to watch me go.
I already put Peanut and Nugget in the back of the SUV. They have their noses pressed against the glass, tongues lolling, excited to be the ones to come with me this time. More often than not it’s one of the others, needed for their specialized noses. Today, however, it’s Peanut’s sweet disposition, and Nugget’s cuddly nature that are important. Where we’re going no one will care Peanut is partially blind or Nugget has deformed hind legs.
This will be our first visit to Wellspring Senior Living, an assisted living facility in Kalispell. I got this gig through my friend Sloane, who is also the one who suggested I move up here from Missoula in the first place.
It was less than five months ago, I was called out to Libby with Emo to search for human remains in the mountains. I still have occasional nightmares about the boneyard my dog sniffed out; a dumping ground for what turned out to be a pair of serial killers.
That’s when I met Sloane, who was a detective for the Lincoln Sheriff’s Department, and my local contact. She and I connected right away and stayed in touch after I returned home, forging the kind of friendship I’ve been lacking in recent years. All my old friends have slowly disappeared over time, and I haven’t exactly done much to hang on to them. They’d all been part of a life I no longer fit into.
Connecting with the dogs had been the first tentative step on a new path. The friendship with Sloane had been the next one. If not for her, I wouldn’t have been able to gather up the courage to pull up stakes in Missoula, and seek out a fresh start here.
When I was up here to celebrate Thanksgiving with Sloane, her fiancée Dan and their families, the subject of relocation came up. It was over a cup of tea on her front porch early the morning after. She asked why I’d seemed preoccupied during dinner, and I mentioned toying with the idea of a fresh start, even though I didn’t give her the background. She didn’t ask why—which is one of the reasons I like her so much—and simply suggested moving closer to her. She pointed out there would be likely be plenty of work for me and the dogs here in the mountains, since I already had connections with law enforcement in the region and left a good impression.
The idea had been churning through my head the entire drive back home that afternoon, and by the time I got to Missoula, I’d mostly had my mind made up. The next day I called the realtor who helped my buy my property on the outskirts of Missoula five years prior, and set the wheels in motion.
Two months later, and here I am; just settled into the dog’s and my new digs, off Terrace View Road, halfway between Libby and Sloane and Dan’s place. The single-story, rustic ranch house came with a couple of acres of property backing onto the banks of Big Cherry Creek. The place even had an outdoor run and kennels since the previous owner had hunting dogs.
As I drive away I glance back at the house and catch sight of Emo’s shadow in the large front window. Then I notice the cutter hanging down from the corner and the missing downspout, and realize the term ‘rustic’ may be giving the place more credit than it deserves.
The bones of the house are good, and the previous owner had made a good start on renovations, but ran out of money and steam, which is why I was able to pick it up for a relative steel and on very short notice. And the property itself is amazing, with beautiful views from the back deck, which had been put in new in the past two years.
Most of the windows have been replaced, but the roof definitely needs work, as does some of the stonework on the big river-rock chimney. The siding is actual wooden boards that were stained a gray-blue color. I don’t hate it, but it’s looking a little weathered.
Inside isn’t too bad; the only thing left to do are the extra bedrooms and main bathroom. The kitchen cabinets and concrete counter look fairly new, and so do the floors; nice light, extra wide, hardwood boards. The focus in the living space is the large stone fireplace, which—along with the view—is what sold me on the house.
The day before yesterday, when the movers arrived, I had them place the big pieces of furniture, but leave the boxes in one of the extra bedrooms for me to tackle bit by bit.
Which is what I’ll get back to later today when I get home.
There is snow on the ground, but the roads are clear and it’s a beautiful day for a drive. Despite the cold outside air, I have the window behind me open a crack so Peanut can stick her large nose outside. She easily gets car sick otherwise. Mostly Great Dane, she is large enough to stick her head over the backseat and I can hear her sniffing at the fresh air.
Nugget is probably already asleep in the large dog bed I have in the back of the SUV. These two are my therapy dogs. They love affection and they love people, which is a bit of a miracle, given where they came from. As unmatched a pair as they are, these two are best friends.
I pull my knit beanie farther down over my ears against the cold chill. Then I turn up the radio and sing along full-blast to Duran Duran’s Hungry Like the Wolf as I make my way to Kalispell . I can’t hold a tune to save my life, but luckily my dogs don’t care.
“You must be Ms. Lederman,” the sweater-vest-wearing administrator waiting for me at reception greets me. “David Gentry, we spoke on the phone.”
I shake his offered hand. “Please, it’s Jillian. Nice to meet you.”
“Of course. Jillian, would you follow me? We already have quite a gathering in the community hall. Sadly, our facility isn’t equipped to handle live-in animals, so a lot of our residents had to give up a pet. They miss them.”
“I can only imagine,” I reply. “I don’t know what I would do without my guys.”
Ten minutes later, Nugget charms his way from lap to lap, doing the rounds as he’s bound to do. Peanut is a tad more discerning with her affections and has picked out her favorite person in the room; a frail-looking elderly woman in a wheelchair. Peanut is sitting down beside the chair, her head resting on the lap of the woman, who absent-mindedly scratches Peanut behind the ears.
Both woman and dog have their eyes closed, a look of satisfaction on their faces.
I catch David’s eye, who seems pretty pleased as well. It’s amazing how simple and effortless it really is to bring a little joy to people’s lives.
It brings me joy as well, and provides me with some balance for the rewarding, but often heart-breaking search and recovery work I do.
*****
Wolff
“Did you find everything okay?”
I pile the items I picked up on the counter.
“I think so.” I quickly check the list on my phone. “Yeah, that’s it.”
And thank God for that.
Even just being in the proximity of a shopping mall gives me fucking hives, so after wandering the aisles of the women’s clothing department in Target for the past half hour, I’m sweating like a pig. Good thing I only need to do this once, maybe twice a year.
I wait for the woman to ring me up and pull out my credit card. Then I watch her pack up my purchases, and with a curt nod for her, grab the bags, and walk as fast as I can out to the parking lot.
My phone vibrates in my pocket as I’m getting into my truck.
“Yep.”
“Ama says you’re in Kalispell?” Dan asks.
Ama is both housekeeper and office manager at High Meadow. She’s also the most well-informed person at the ranch; she seems to know everything about everyone. So, I’m not surprised she was able to tell Dan my whereabouts, even though she didn’t get that information from me.
“Yep.”
“Good. I have a favor to ask.”
“What do you need?”
“Any chance you could swing by Home Depot on your way back? I just started a new project and need a few things.”
I chuckle. “A new project? Aren’t you still doing work on your house?”
Dan and Sloane moved into the new log home Dan built just before Thanksgiving a little over two months ago. I thought he was still finishing up the inside.
“I am, but something else came up that has priority.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah…” I hear him chuckle. “Don’t tell Sloane, but I’m building a stable out back. I’m buying Aspen a pony for her birthday in April.”
Aspen is Sloane’s baby daughter. Dan is not the biological father, but you’d never know from the way he dotes on the kid. The fact he’s buying her a pony shouldn’t surprise me. Still, I stifle a bark of laughter.
“You realize she’s just turning one, right?”
“So? She’s already starting to pull herself up, and have you seen her crawl? She can cross the room in three seconds flat. Mark my words; she’ll be able to walk by her birthday, and getting her in the saddle is the next step.”
“If you say so. Happy to lend a hand on the new project, but in the meantime, shoot me a text with your wishlist and I’ll swing by Home Depot on my way back.”
“Will do. I appreciate it.”
I’m still grinning when I take off my hat and walk into the lobby at Wellspring fifteen minutes later. I wave at Marcela, the receptionist, in passing. I’m halfway down the hall to my mother’s unit, when her voice calls me back.
“Lucas! Your mother isn’t there.”
Anyone calling me by that name is associated with my mother in one way or another. The rest of the world knows me by my last name.
I backtrack my steps and stop in front of her desk.
“She’s not? We were supposed to have lunch.”
The pretty woman smiles at me as she shakes her head.
“Guess she got a better offer, she’s in the community hall. But…” she adds with an over-the-top flirty hair-flip. “I’m free for lunch.”
“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind,” I tell her with a wink.
Marcela is happily married woman with a couple of cute kids, and the flirting is all in good fun. She’d never step out, and I’d never step in.
I head down a different hallway, leading to the communal areas. When I walk into the main hall, I spot my mother’s wheelchair right away. Hard to miss, since she’s half obscured by a dog the size of a small horse, cuddled up to her.
“She made a new friend.”
I turn around to find David Gentry, the home’s administrator, standing behind me.
“I see that. Since when do you allow pets in here?”
“Certified therapy animals are allowed,” he clarifies. “Board approved and all. Your mother was instrumental in getting that approval.”
I vaguely recollect her telling me about a resident petition she was having everyone sign last month. Feeling a little bad I was only listening with half an ear at the time. Despite her small stature, and her failing health, my mother still is a force to be reckoned with.
I turn my head to look at her and catch her eye.
“Lucas! Come meet Peanut.”
Who the hell would call an oversized animal like that, Peanut?
The dog lifts its head off my mother’s lap when I walk over. That’s when I notice it’s missing an eye. The animal looks scary enough and I’m sure could snap my mother in half with those jaws, but it seems friendly enough, its tail thumping the linoleum floor as I approach. Bending down, I kiss my mother’s papery cheek.
“Peanut?”
Mom beams up at me. “Isn’t she precious?”
Precious is not exactly the term I would’ve come up with for the less than attractive dog, but she’s definitely sweet, leaning her weight against my leg and staring up at me with one adoring eye, as I rub her head.
“Good girl,” I mumble at her.
The next moment the hair on my neck stands on end when I hear someone walk up behind me, and say, “It’s almost time to go, Peanut.”
I don’t need to turn around to know who the owner of that voice is, but I don’t have a choice when my mom speaks up.
“Oh, Jillian, I’d like you to meet my son Lucas.”
I meet those pretty green eyes, now sparkling with amusement. Of course a dog named, Peanut, would belong to this woman. She named her cadaver dog, Emo, after all.
Hell, I knew she recently moved to the area—Sloane mentioned it more than once—but I wasn’t expecting to run into her at my mother’s assisted living home. That’s a little too close for comfort.
“So you do have a first name; Lucas, huh?”
“You already know each other?” Mom looks back and forth between us.
“I do. How are you doing, Jillian?”
She adjusts the small fur ball she’s holding in her arms. “Good, thanks.”
I turn to my mother to explain. “Jillian and I met working on a search last summer.”
Despite my immediate attempt to identify our connection as a professional one only, I see Mom’s mind already at work behind the gleam in her eyes.
Great.
“Is that so? Well, what a happy coincidence this is then,” she says in a chipper voice and with a satisfied smirk on her face.
My mother has never passed up on an opportunity to try and hook me up with any seemingly available female we’ve come across. She has never given up hope to get me tied down and settled, despite the fact I’ve told her often enough I’m not looking for anything permanent. Certainly not with someone my mother hooked me up with.
“It certainly is a coincidence,” Jillian agrees with a kind smile for my mother. “Unfortunately, I have to run. My time is up here and I have to take these guys home and fed, but I’ll be back in two weeks.”
Mom leans forward to give that ugly mutt a hug, before Jillian heads out with both dogs. Then she nudges my hip with her elbow.
“She seems like a nice girl. Maybe you should walk her out.”
“ Mom, ” I warn her.
The tiny redhead with the big smile is already enough of a temptation without my mother’s interference.