Chapter Nine
Delilah
I twist the hot water off and step out of the shower, drying myself with a towel before I toss my dress on from yesterday and push the brush through my hair. I have no idea what just happened, but I want more. I want more so badly that my pussy is still throbbing.
That said, I have no idea how I’m going to look this guy in the eye ever again. I’ve heard my boss growl. Hell, I just scrubbed his sticky, white come off my thighs.
Drawing two fingers together against my forearm, I pinch myself as proof that I haven’t been dreaming. Nope, this is reality.
My boss just caught me masturbating in his bed, then spit and came all over me. This is a totally normal Monday.
I glance down at my phone and scroll through my messages, trying to distract myself from reality, but reality hits me smack in the face. I have a few messages from my brother with pictures of the horses on his farm and one from Dave.
I don’t want to click anything that has to do with Dave. I’m currently living in a fantasy land where that relationship never happened, and this baby was immaculately conceived. Because I’m a sucker for pain, I look at the message anyway.
Dave: If you’re not coming home, I don’t want anything to do with this kid. Hell, I don’t even trust it’s mine.
I stare at the message, my eyes unblinking, a terrible, evil ache of happiness whispering through me.
Maybe that makes me an awful person. Maybe I should want him to be a part of our daughter’s life.
Maybe that’s what’s best for her. But as I stare down at his words, I can’t help but feel relief.
Relief from a lifetime of stress my daughter and I would be avoiding if he checked out.
I’m sure the message is an attempt to goad me in to responding but I ignore it in favor of faith.
Faith that he’ll be the insecure egotistical jerk I know he is.
I ignore it in favor of opening the door to a new life I haven’t discovered yet.
A new life I can’t wait to build, though I have no idea what it looks like.
Part of me wants to be single for a long while, wants to go to paramedic school, get my life on track, and build a life I can be proud of. Another part of me wants to fall into Beau’s arms and get lost there forever.
As if that’s reality.
One mutual masturbation session does not equal true love forever. That should be stitched on a pillow somewhere.
I’m barely out of the bedroom when I see him standing in the kitchen with a cup of coffee, staring blankly out into the bright blue Colorado sky. It’s nearly winter and the snow will be falling soon, but right now we’re still enjoying dark red leaves and cool, crisp air.
“Hey,” my voice shakes when I talk, nervous about what he’s thinking, “I’m really sorry for that.
I don’t know what came over me.” I pause, staring down at the ground as I try to collect my rationale.
“If I’m honest, I sort of kind of got this little schoolgirl crush on you, and I guess,” I widen my gaze and attempt to meet his, so he knows I’m genuine, “I went too far. I’m sorry. ”
He sets the cup down on the table with a clink, steps forward, and pulls me into his arms, his lips on mine in a hurry, deep and hard, like I’m the only thing he’s ever been sure of in his life.
Okay, I wasn’t expecting this response, but I don’t hate it. In fact, I love it!
It’s not gentle. It’s not careful. It’s raw and consuming, like he’s been holding back for too long and finally let the dam break.
His hands grip my waist, anchoring me to him, and the world narrows to the heat between us.
The press of his chest, the bitter taste of coffee on his tongue, the way he kisses like he’s afraid I’ll disappear if he stops.
It’s the kind of kiss that rewrites everything. The kind that says I want you, without apology. The kind that makes me forget every reason I thought this would never make sense.
He pulls away gently, his big, rough hands cupping my face. “You’re not to be sorry ever again. Got it?”
I nod slowly, wetting my lips as I study the gray in his beard. “But—”
“I’ve thought about you so many times. I never acted on it because well…
you had a man and you work for me. But now…
I don’t know how I pretend anymore, especially when all I want is more of you.
” His voice is steady, but there’s a tremble beneath it like he’s worried about saying too much and terrified of saying too little.
I swallow hard, heart thudding against my ribs like it’s trying to answer for me. There are a thousand reasons this shouldn’t work, but none of them matter when he looks at me like that.
“I want more too,” I whisper, the words barely making it past the lump in my throat.
He doesn’t hesitate. His lips find mine again.
This time with more hunger. It’s messy and breathless…
and perfect, like nothing I’ve ever experienced in my life.
His hands slide into my hair, tugging just enough to make me gasp, and I feel him smile against my mouth like he’s been waiting for that sound.
We stumble backward, tangled in each other, banging into the counter before there’s a heavy knock on the front door.
No! No! No! I don’t want anything to stop this!
He stares toward me with the same feeling tangled behind his gaze, then kisses me on the top of the head. “I’ll go see what’s up. You stay here. Keep everything warm for me.”
I nod and smile as he leans in and bites my bottom lip with a growl deep in his throat. Ugh, why am I just now feeling like I know what it’s like to be wanted, to be desired?
I watch him disappear toward the door, the warmth of his touch still blooming across my skin. But then the door opens, and the warmth I was feeling drains, replacing itself with cold blue uniforms and sharp white light that slices through the threshold.
Beau steps outside, the door left ajar, and I catch the edge of his silhouette against the pale morning.
I shouldn’t listen, but I do. I know these guys. It’s a small town, and we work with them all the time. I slide closer, quiet as a mouse, the warmth behind me fading into the shadows as I press my ear toward the crack in the door.
The older of the officers, the one with forty years on the force and a donut belly to prove it, speaks the most. His voice is low but concerned.
“We got a 911 call from a man living above the bakery on Main. He claims you’ve kidnapped his pregnant fiancé, a young woman that works for you. He says you have a thing for her and could be doing things against her will.”
My chest tightens. Kidnapped? What the hell is wrong with Dave? Oh my God! I want to push through the door and set the record straight, but Beau starts talking first.
“Kidnapped? No. They got into it, then he came to dispatch and threw his fist around. I sent him away and offered Delilah a place to stay for the night.”
The officer nods, his mouth pressed into a line.
“I’m sure your offer was innocent, Beau.
I’ve known you for a while now. You’re a good guy.
You know this call is routine. But,” he leans in, his tone serious as he says, “if you did have feelings for that girl, you know it’d be career suicide, right?
The county is really strict about dating in the workplace.
You saw what happened to Charlie last year.
He and Lisa kept their thing under wraps for almost six months, overlapping shifts, shared routes, even swapping call coverage.
But when that violent overdose call went sideways and Charlie showed up instead of the assigned unit, the county flagged it. ”
He pauses, letting the weight settle. “They said it compromised patient care and that his judgment was clouded. Internal affairs tore through their logs, found months of blurred lines. Charlie got pulled off his beat and reassigned to clerical. Lisa resigned before the review board could make it official.”
He leans in, eyes locked on Beau. “You think dispatch is any safer? One bad call, one hint of bias, and they’ll gut your career. The county doesn’t play with liability, not when lives are on the line. You’re so close to retirement, man. Don’t let something like this screw it all up.”
There it is. That was the stark smack of reality I needed to remind me how stupid it is to fall for your boss.
I step away from the door and grab my shoes, sliding them on one by one before clutching my phone to figure out what text I need to send my brother that doesn’t sound like I’m in desperate need of his help… while also being in desperate need of his help.
Beau walks in when I’m half through the message. “Where are you going?”
“Oh,” I sigh, rolling my shoulders forward, “I heard the guys. It makes sense. Also… Dave is such an asshole.”
“No,” Beau grips my elbows and helps me up from the bench, “it doesn’t make sense. In a year, you’ll be a paramedic, and I’ll be left behind in dispatch. There are plenty of cops married to folks in other branches. It’s fine. I like that cop, he’s good at his job, but he’s dramatic.”
“I can’t mess up your job, Beau. And honestly, I can’t mess up mine either. If the county fires me or reassigns me in another town, I’d be screwed. I don’t even know how I’m going to pay for this baby now. If I had no job,” I glance down, “I can’t do that to her.”
He leans in and kisses my forehead, the cop car just now pulling out the long driveway. “I’d quit before I let that happen. I’ve got plenty of money in retirement and savings.”
“We aren’t even official. I mean, I don’t think what happened in the bedroom is really official, is it?”
He tilts his head to the side, his rough hand on my cheek. “Yeah, kinda. I mean, I’ll check the rule book, but I’m pretty sure the second my DNA touches your skin, you’re mine.” His fingers grip my hips, and I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him closer, needing him closer.