34. Breaking and Entering
thirty-four
Breaking and Entering
“ W oah.” Archer looks at me startled as I come into view of my laptop. I guess I look that upset.
“What are you… uh… wear—well, it’s colder in Kentucky. Hmm… you aren’t dressed yet?”
“Dressed yet? Archer I’ve had a rough night and I’m going to go to bed right after this. I just changed into pajamas.”
“That’s not. No pajamas.”
I look down at my vintage silk shorts that are very short, but he can’t really see that far down. Oh. I guess Josie’s matching camisole top is— Oh . Much more revealing than I thought.
“Get over it. You’ve seen your fair share of all this.”
“Not all of yours.”
“Well, you’ve never looked before, so…”
“There’s definitely something different now.”
“What?”
“Nothing. Listen, we have to talk about work. Not how much you appreciate my ice rink, not the vendor that didn’t show up or the mean poinsettia lady that turned out to be your new best friend, or this crush you have on the football or basketball coach, but the Harmon case.”
“Oh, Arch. I’m in hell.”
“What? No, I thought you were in a Christmas snow globe. And since all is snowy and perfect there, could you please focus on work? I have something really important to tell you.”
There’s a loud pounding at the front door.
“Hang on. Someone’s at the door.”
“This late? What time is it?” Archer’s voice fades behind me as I race to the front door.
My heart is pounding out of my chest with adrenaline that could move a mountain.
I know it’s not Helen. She would’ve used her key.
I swing the door open and raise my eyes to Kourt’s. He’s standing in front of me in a sweatshirt with bacon in one hand and a carton of eggs in the other. His hair is a mess, and he doesn’t even have a coat on.
“I promised you bacon and eggs, Erika.”
I fly into his arms with my legs wrapping around him, my arms trapping his neck, and I let him figure out the bacon and eggs in his hands as I slam the door closed behind us and kiss him mercilessly. He drops the bacon and eggs on the entry table and turns my back to the door.
We groan into each other’s mouths, and he’s already hard against me. My heart is about to beat out of its cage. We’re breathing so hard together as I pull back from him.
“Don’t. Do. That. To. Me. Again,” I yell.
“Never.” He says into my neck as he lifts his eyes to mine. “Never again.”
I jump down from his arms and storm into the living room, then back up to him. “I got in my car three times to go to you, but then I knew you’d be so mad if I drove that far up the mountain, and you—”
Kourt’s mouth hits mine. He’s on his knees on the floor in front of me, pulling me down and into him. His tongue chases mine, and I can feel how wet I am already, my silk shorts grinding against his cock.
I can’t even catch my breath long enough to realize I’m wet for him and crying at the same time.
I’m so mad at him. “You can’t just do that to me. If you change your mind or you don’t want—”
“Change my mind? Are you fucking crazy?”
Kourt presses my entire upper body against his, and my legs close tightly around him. His chest is moving up and down as fast as mine is as he holds me tight, trying to calm us on Aunt Josie’s living room floor.
“You either want me all the way or you don’t want me at all. There’s nothing in between when it comes to this .” I cry out, sniffling my declaration into his ear.
“Trust me Erika with a K, there is nothing in between where you are concerned.”
“Why did you let me drive away?”
“Because I’m a fucking idiot. I thought I was giving you space to decide, or softening my own blow when you leave—” With that word, his entire body stiffens, and he holds the back of my head and neck for me to look at him.
“Go anywhere you fucking want Erika—” Kourt raises his voice. “Go back to work at your firm in Chicago, go to New York or LA or back to the suburbs, just don’t you ever fucking leave me.”
I sink into him, my body going limp in his arms from relief. I don’t know what brazen raw confidence has ignited in me, but I have no problem telling this man exactly what I want.
“Erika,” he whispers softly in my ear, and I turn my face to him.
“Kourt.” I say it firmly like a dare, and he smiles the biggest, devious smile known to man as I feel him swell beneath me.
The early morning sun pierces into Josie’s kitchen as Kourt stands shirtless above a pan of sizzling bacon. I’m in his volunteer fire department sweatshirt he wore over here, and a pair of not-so-modest lace panties.
Trying not to sneeze from the pepper as I whisk the eggs, I reach across Kourt for the milk.
“I know what you’re doing. You’re determined to keep me from making good on my promise of breakfast.” Kourt looks down at the lace that barely covers my ass.
“Says the man who declared his living room a clothing-free zone.”
“I remember blankets being required. I do have a little tact.”
“You’re the one who ripped my vintage silk bottoms.”
“I do love anything vintage. I’m sorry to see those go. I just had to get in there. Maybe one of those quilters can sew them back.”
With the bacon sizzling, Kourt and I barely hear the door. Someone pounds again, or multiple people…
“Miss. Amherst? Open up!”
Kourt looks at me with wide eyes as the door pounds again and two cops plus the fire chief charge into Josie’s living room. Wearing his sweatshirt, panties, and a spatula, I step behind a shirtless Kourt as the three men look back at the two of us, as shocked as we are.
Silence as the bacon crackles.
“Kourt, Erika?” The fire chief diverts his eyes.
“Chief, Danny, Travis?” Kourt holds my legs tight behind him.
“Ah, we got a call for a possible disturbance. A breaking and entering and assault was reported.”
“Oh, my God, where? Do you guys need me? I didn’t hear my phone.”
“Ah, Kourt, the call came into the police station and dispatched to me for this address.”
“Erika! Erika! Are they there? Are you okay?” My laptop screams from the coffee table, and I go to grab it on instinct until I feel Kourt’s very large hand lock my bare thigh in place. Right.
“Just a second, Archer!” I scream toward the laptop.
“Who’s Archer?” The cop with a name tag that says “Danny” asks.
“Travis, grab the sweatpants off the coffee table and the laptop, and don’t fucking look in this kitchen,” Kourt demands of his longtime friend.
“Ten four, Captain.”
“He’s not your captain when you’re in that uniform,” Danny barks with pointed eyes and a smirk.
“Or when I’m on a call or at the fire station and you’re in your other uniform.” Randy adds from his end.
“Yes, Chief,” both Kourt and Travis answer in unison.
Travis tosses Kourt the sweatpants to hand me, and I slide them on behind him.
“Now, could somebody tell me what in blue blazes is going on here?”
Danny apparently has had enough. Wait until they meet Archer.
I smile at Travis as I slide the laptop from him and go to open my Zoom camera… only it’s open—and not on mute.
“Erika! Thank God you’re dressed and alive. I see they got you a sweatshirt.”
“What are you talking about, Archer?”
“I saved your life. Last night… you went to answer the door, and you never came back to me. I almost dozed off, but then I heard loud dramatic talking, as if someone turned the TV up on a soap opera or late-night B movie. When I heard the first loud bang and your breathy cry, I realized what they had done. Someone got you to the door, broke in, turned the TV up so no one would hear your cries. But I heard them, Erika. Every last one of them, and I’m just so glad to see you alive and standing.
Let me see your face, are you hurt? Is the perpetrator still there? ”
Throats clear in unison in the background as Kourt steps into frame behind me.
“Let me guess, said perpetrator…” Archer looks up at Kourt. His jaw drops. “And this must be the basketball coach, I’m guessing by the height.”
Archer’s lips purse together, and he looks at me, fuming.
“Hello, Archer, I’ve heard a lot about you, buddy.”
“You didn’t get assaulted, Erika. You broke the cardinal rule and forgot to mute on what would appear to have been a very special occasion. I know. I sat through three rounds of it before I thought you died. So, there’s that.”
“You boys hungry?” I turn to see the fire chief behind us flipping the bacon.
Travis slides past Kourt and begins cracking more eggs in my bowl, and I let out a long sigh, as I zero in on my best friend with Kourt staring at him behind me.
“It’s the least they can do. Where da’ plates?” Danny, the police chief slides up to the bar and reaches for the silverware that Travis passes him.
“You don’t have anything to say for yourself, Erika? I thought you were being murdered.” My laptop reprimands me, and Kourt smiles into the frame, more entertained by Archer than I thought possible.
“Well, I absolutely was not being murdered.” Kourt and I both smile into the camera. “If I had anything to say for myself, Archer, it would be, ‘turnabout is fair play.’”
“Ohhh! No ma’am, I was never that—”
Kourt clears his throat into the camera, and Archer’s jaw ticks.
“Whatever. If you had just listened to me last night instead of answering the door, you would know about the Harmon case, but don’t mind me. Go on and have your Blitzen breakfast.”
Kourt rises to step away, trying not to eavesdrop, but I catch him look at me on ‘Harmon case.’
“They want you back, Erika. They made a mistake. I was tasked with groveling on their behalf.”
“Then that’s their second mistake, Arch. No one uses me or my best friend.”
“Talk to me later, Erika. Don’t let the dust settle. They’re asking you back and talking promotions in the new year. Let it linger too long, and you know they’re crooked enough to take your idea without you.”
“Did you ever think we’re better than working for people crooked enough to do that? You don’t even need the money, Arch. What’s your excuse?”
“Erika, wait!”
I shut the laptop and return to Kourt’s side.
“Everything okay?” Kourt’s hand on my back is soothing and the only comfort in the world I need at a time like this.
“I could ask you the same.” I nod at Josie’s kitchen, where two cops and the fire chief sit eating our bacon and eggs.
My eyes drift to the empty plate with the grease-soaked, bacon crumbed paper towel the chief used to drain the meat that is no more, and I watch young Travis scoop the last helping of scrambled eggs.
I blink up at Kourt and he shrugs. “Guess bacon and eggs is a promise I haven’t kept yet,” he says, as he slides his hand down the sweatpants to cup my ass, unbeknown to anyone.
“I hold you to it, Kourt.”
“Hey,” he almost whispers in my ear. “I thought you said you and Archer never…”
“We did not. I was referring to a time he left his Zoom unmuted with one of his own lady friends.”
“I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about the fact that he’s in love with you.”
“Kourt McClain.”
Danny the cop winks at us from across the counter as he shoves the last bite of hickory smoked bacon in his mouth.
“All the grand gestures. The ice rink. Quote, ‘saving your life.’ You can’t tell me the guy thought you were being assaulted.”
“Kourt, Archer is a grand gesture. And that’s as face value and insincere as me suggesting that of you and Helen.” I try to keep my voice hushed while our guests are enthralled in a flattering conversation about Blitzen’s Christmas festivities.
“Noted. But I didn’t suggest you were a part of the equation. I said, he’s in love with you.”