Hold On (Page 67)

“Wish we had time to talk shit out right now, but I gotta get back to work.”

“Right,” I said, making a move to pull away.

He didn’t let me go, so I stopped and focused on him.

He lifted his head and I straightened mine but neither of us went far.

“For planning, you gotta know, Cherie, that you owe me.”

I felt my eyes narrow in confusion. “I what?”

“Owe me, baby, and when we work out that debt, I’ll want more than your hand down my pants.”

My legs got wobbly.

“Right,” I said again, this time breathy.

One side of his lips curled up and it was again cocky. “I’ll get you home to your boy after Swank’s, but just sayin’, whoever’s lookin’ after him’s gotta know you’re gonna have a late night.”

My still-sensitive clit gave a throb that was of a strength and enjoyableness I preferred to focus on, so I just nodded.

He kept the cocky grin as he watched me do it.

He apparently had enough time to continue looking smug and not let me go and go to work, which I started to find annoying.

“Would you like me to send a thank you note for my orgasm, or would me providing that gratitude verbally right now suffice?” I asked touchily.

“Prefer your gratitude to come in a different form than both, so I’ll just wait until tomorrow.”

I rolled my eyes.

He gave me another squeeze, and when my eyes got back to him, I saw he was out-and-out smiling.

“Call you to let you know when I’m picking you up,” he told me.

“Okay, Merry.”

He bent, touched his mouth to mine, gave me another squeeze, and then, to my despair that I hid totally, he let me go.

I stood where I was and watched him go.

He unlocked the front door, opened it, unlocked the storm door and had his hand on the handle before he looked back at me.

“We got a lot to talk about, Cher. We’ll get that shit outta the way tomorrow at Swank’s. But I don’t want you dreading it, because, honest as fuck, we’re gonna get through it and we’re gonna get past it. I won’t make you promises again that I can’t keep. Swear that, babe. So when I promise right now that I know where my head is at with you and I want us both to give this the best shot we can give it, you can believe that.”

God, Merry.

“You gonna give this the best shot you can give, sweetheart?” he asked when I said nothing.

I nodded.

He took in my nod, smiled a small smile, but pushed, “Promise me.”

I wanted to hesitate. I wanted to think about it. I was scared out of my mind.

But in that moment, I did not want to give any of that to Merry.

I wanted to give him nothing but what he needed.

So I gave it to him immediately.

“I promise, honey.”

His small smile got bigger before he said, “Later, Cher.”

“Later,” I replied.

His eyes drifted over me, his smile quirked, then he walked out the door.

I watched him do it.

Then I went to it and stood in it as I watched him walk to his Excursion at the curb.

This time, as he drove away, he looked to me and flicked out a hand.

I lifted mine and returned the gesture.

When he was gone, I closed and locked both doors. Then, before I allowed myself to have a nervous breakdown or to act all stupid and girlie and shout with glee while twirling or something (I hadn’t been girlie in so long, I wasn’t sure how to do it), I went to my purse and pulled out my phone.

I maneuvered right to my text string with Merry and stared at the last two texts.

I fucked us up, baby, and I’m so fucking sorry.

Don’t text. If you forgive me, come see me.

The first one I typed in and left unsent.

Now it was sent.

The second one didn’t even sound like me.

I closed my eyes slowly as it came to me.

Ethan.

My little man, he so wanted his momma happy.

I opened my eyes and looked at the texts again, not having that first clue what to do.

Ethan should not have done that.

And Merry needed to know it wasn’t me who’d had the courage to take the next step.

But I didn’t know how to handle either.

“Fuck it,” I muttered, tossing the phone on my purse. I went back to my vacuuming, doing it with Celine, losing myself in rivers deep and mountains high, knowing when the time came to deal, if I did it right or I did it wrong, I’d still do it.

Because that was what I did.

It had always been what I did no matter what messes I got myself into.

I dealt.

For me.

For Ethan.

And now I’d do it for Merry.

Chapter Ten

The Score

Garrett

After leaving Cher, Garrett walked up the back steps of the station into the bullpen, carrying two Mimi’s coffees.

When he hit the top, he did an automatic scan of the space, seeing Drew and Sean in the office with the cap. Adam and Ellen, in uniform, were walking down the front steps.

And Garrett’s partner, Mike Haines, was sitting at his desk, a desk that was butted front-to-front with Garrett’s.

Mike had his eyes on him and Garrett moved that way, hitting Mike’s desk at the side to put his coffee down before walking to his own desk.

“Get your business sorted?” Mike asked as Garrett set his coffee down and took his seat.

He looked to Mike. “Yep.”

Mike eyed him, hand wrapped around his coffee still resting on his desk.

“Can’t get a read on you,” he noted after a few beats. “You either just got a late life offer from the Colts to be their starting tight end or you’re planning to kidnap someone to torture them.”