Law Man

Chapter Twenty-Three Mornin’

Six weeks later…

I came hard, so hard my back arched and my hands flew behind me to grip Mitch’s thighs as I gasped for breath, rolled my hips at the same time I ground down on his rock-hard cock.

I was still coming when his thumb left my sweet spot and his hand moved to my hip, his other hand already at my other hip. They slid up and curled around my ribcage, pulling me down to him. His lips captured mine, his tongue drove inside my mouth, his arms wrapped around me and he rolled us then started thrusting, hard and deep. I lifted my knees and hips to give him more, my arms circling his shoulders.

Holding him close, my fingers gliding into his thick, soft hair, I took his thrusts in my mouth and between my legs. I took his grunts in my mouth then I finally took his deep, hard drives between my legs as his ragged groan tore down my throat.

Coming down, his lips slid to my neck where he nuzzled me as his cock moved gently inside me and the fingers of one of my hands glided through his hair as the other one drifted across the warm skin of his back.

My soul sighed but my heart took flight.

Then his head came up, his sated, sexy eyes caught mine and he muttered, “Mornin’.”

I stared at him a second, pressed my head in the pillow, my thighs to his sides, my arms tightened around him and I burst out laughing.

This was because he’d woken me with his hands then his mouth and, until he’d said that word, neither of us had spoken any others.

When I quit laughing, tipped my chin down and opened my eyes to look at him, he’d stopped moving inside me, was planted deep but his hand was up. The tips of his fingers were moving along my temple and hairline and he was smiling at me.

“Morning,” I whispered and felt the humor slide from my features as a memory came to me.

Mitch saw it, I knew it because his smile died, his face softened with curiosity and his fabulous lips whispered, “What?”

“Remember that night when Billie got sick?” I asked quietly.

His fingers drifted down my hairline to curl around my neck and his thumb came out to stroke my jaw when he answered, “Yeah.”

“Remember the next morning when you came into the kitchen and wrapped your arms around me?” I asked and his thumb stalled as his eyes grew intense.

“Yeah,” he whispered.

“You said, ‘mornin’’ then, against my neck, with your arms around me and I thought then that I wanted you to say that to me like that every morning for forever.”

His fingers tensed on my neck, his face got closer, his eyes got more intense and his voice was gruff when he murmured, “Mara.”

I grinned at him then informed him, “This one was way better.”

His body started shaking then his hand left my neck so both arms could wrap around me and he gave me an open-mouthed kiss (while laughing, by the way, which made it fabulous) as he rolled us, unfortunately disengaging our bodies, fortunately taking me with him while kissing me and settling on his back with me on top.

When he ended the kiss, my head came up and I looked down at my man who had his arms around me, laughter still in his eyes and again my soul sighed.

Then he started talking.

“Right, baby, this mornin’ the play is, I get the bathroom first then I get Bud up and in the shower while you shower and I make coffee and breakfast. You get outta the shower, get Billie up, we have breakfast, you get Billie in the shower and do your thing and help her do her thing while I shower then we go. You with me?”

“Yeah,” I replied.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I said on a grin, used to this, liking this, we did it every morning.

“Break,” he whispered, lifted his head, kissed me quickly then rolled me off him and rolled the other way while flicking up the covers.

I watched as he walked into my bathroom.

My soul sighed again and it was a good one.

Mitch closed the door and I rolled to my back, pulling the covers up to my chest.

It was June and summer had hit the Rockies with surprising vigor. Usually, you could expect anything through May and into June, even blizzards but it had been warm and sunny, afternoon thundershowers nearly every day for weeks taking the heat off and leaving the nights cool and crisp.

The six weeks since Mitch hauled me into the real world were the six best weeks of my life, bar none, not a single day I’d lived in Mara World even came close.

First I sorted out birth control. Mitch said it was a priority and I agreed.

I wanted nothing between Mitch and me so, without delay, I made that so and went on the pill.

Second Mom and Aunt Lulamae totally disappeared. A call to Lynette and a recon mission by her told me they were back home. This was likely because they’d run out of funds to use to make my life hell and didn’t have their usual cadre of drunks and assholes whose wallets they could steal money from after they’d passed out.

Incidentally, I had shared everything with Lynette in a marathon phone call while my ass was planted in a lounge chair by the pool. It was hard to concentrate on all the important stuff I was telling her because Mitch showed halfway through our conversation, sweaty from a workout at the gym and he looked hot sweaty. It became harder to concentrate when my sunglassed eyes got a look at his face when he was walking toward me and I knew he seriously liked my bikini. It was even harder to concentrate (for obvious reasons) when, right in the middle of me listening to Lynette, he kissed me, hard but closed-mouthed. And it continued to be hard to concentrate when Billy and Billie noticed him and he spent the next ten minutes standing at the pool’s edge picking them up and throwing them in the water. They’d get out and he’d do it again and again. And lastly, it was hard to concentrate seeing as his hotness increased beyond measure because he was, sweaty, smiling and laughing a lot while making Billy smile and laugh a lot and Billie smile and squeal a lot. I wasn’t the only one to notice and would have to tear my sunglassed gaze away from my man and my kids when my possessive woman radar pinged and I’d need to glare down bikini-clad women who were drooling and giving him come hither looks.

But I managed it.

Lynette was beside herself with glee, informing me (repeatedly) she told me so as to the fact I was so a Ten Point Five.

“You might even be an Eleven!” she’d shrieked.

I couldn’t say I believed her (definitely not about the Eleven part). But that didn’t mean Mitch tearing my cocoon wide open and helping me fly didn’t mean I wasn’t (mostly) convinced I was at least a firm Eight.

But it wasn’t Lynette who convinced me of that, it was Mitch.

She was planning a trip out to meet Mitch, Billy and Billie in August and her parents were considering coming with her. I hadn’t seen her in three years, since her last trip out, and I hadn’t seen her folks in thirteen.

I couldn’t wait.

Third Bill was broke, incarcerated and had obviously played his trump card first. He was awaiting trial, a public defender preparing his defense, something Mitch told me would not go well. Firstly because he was guilty, secondly because he already had two strikes and thirdly because he was stupidly refusing to plea bargain.

I never heard from him, the kids never heard from him but I had visited him once and only once and I did this with Mitch standing at my back (Mitch’s decree) so this visit didn’t go well. Still, it probably wouldn’t have gone well even if Mitch wasn’t there.

It lasted long enough for me to pick up my phone, Bill to pick up his phone while his angry eyes stayed glued through the glass to Mitch then they dropped to me, he said in his phone, “Fuck you, Mara. Fuck you.” Then he hung up the phone, got up and walked to the guard.

I walked out trembling and trying not to cry while Mitch held me close with an arm around my shoulders. When I got out, I was trembling and trying not to shout when it hit me I was looking after his kids, kids I intended to raise until they were old enough to build their own lives; my apartment had been ransacked because of him; he’d set Mom and Aunt Lulamae on me and he had absolutely nothing to be pissed about but I had a lot to be pissed about.

I shared all I was pissed about with Mitch in his SUV. I did this in detail and at length and I included family history that went way, way back, something I never shared with anyone but I was on a roll. I only stopped when we got to his apartment, he handed me a glass of wine, kissed me hard to shut me up, lifted his head and I focused on him (finally) to see his eyes were dancing.

Then he muttered, “Gotta go to Bray and Brent’s to get the kids. You gonna tear my place apart in the two minutes it’ll take me to do that or are you gonna light a fuckin’ candle, take a sip of wine and get your shit together?”

I glared at him.

Then I mumbled, “Door number two.”

“Right,” he mumbled back, kissed me again, this time not hard but a lot longer. Then he went to go get the kids.

In the two minutes he was away, I did what I promised him I would do but I also took that time to freak out that during my rant I’d shared family history with Mitch. Ugly, revealing family history and he might take that two minutes to realize I was a Two Point Five.

He didn’t. He came back with Billie over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold, squealing; Billy following, grinning up at them and Mitch declaring he was going to teach Billy how to man a grill.

Then he’d made hamburgers while Billie and I sorted the fixin’s. Billie and I fried French fries and made salad (well, I did, she watched, sitting on the counter and babbling) while Mitch was out on his balcony teaching Billy how to man a grill.

I cancelled my freak out, sipped my wine, ate dinner with my family, got the kids to bed and forced Mitch to watch a Cubs game on TV with me (Cubs win!) before I gave him his reward for being a really nice guy and I did this when we were in his bed.

The police freed my apartment for clean up which I was dreading not only because it was going to be a big job but also I didn’t want to get elbow deep in the proof that all that I’d worked so hard to build had been destroyed.

Mitch, being Mitch, dealt with this too.

When I had a day off, he sorted his mother getting the kids from school then he sorted it so LaTanya, Tess, Penny and the women of two other buddies he had on The Force, Jet and Roxie, came over.

I was kind of in awe of Jet and Roxie, seeing as their stories had hit the paper then they’d had books written about their love affairs with their current husbands. But they were really cool, a little crazy and with the five of us working, it didn’t take very long at all regardless of the fact that, upon getting into it, it was worse than I thought and there was very little that could be salvaged.

But those five being the five they were actually made it kind of fun. This was especially considering Penny had brought along brochures and catalogues and spent a liberal amount of time explaining her “vision” which was a vision I liked a whole lot.

Therefore, Penny ordered needed furniture and a variety of other trimmings the next day. She, Sue Ellen and I went shopping twice (once with LaTanya) to sort out the rest (dishes, sheets, etc.) and Mitch (once with Derek) watched the kids while we were out so Billie wouldn’t be let in on what had happened. Then Mitch took Billy to do what I decreed was the “man stuff”, in other words, they bought my new TV, DVD player, PS3 and stereo while Billie and I stayed home which meant she got her finger and toenails polished and I got to watch Finding Nemo.

We stored the purchases at my place but stayed at Mitch’s until Penny’s order fully arrived a week and a half ago. Mr. Pierson scheduled the delivery of the new mattresses the same day. While I was at work, Penny (with Sue Ellen’s help) had come in and personally “styled” it, furniture, lamps, pictures on the walls. They’d even put the sheets on the beds, the dishes in the cupboards and Billie’s teddy bear on her made up bed.

It looked awesome.

That night after school, the kids and I moved back in.

Billie had totally bought the story that we were with Mitch because my apartment was getting redecorated. Billy knew better but, as usual, to protect his sister, he kept her in the dark.

When we moved back to my place, so did Mitch (kind of). Without asking (but I was not going to argue), he put a toothbrush in my (new) toothbrush holder, shave cream, razors and deodorant in my medicine cabinet and a variety of sports jackets, shirts and jeans in my closet, shoving my stuff aside to put underwear, tees, pajamas and socks in my drawers.

After he did this, I rearranged my drawers so he had two of his own. I did this while fighting back tears. Not tears caused by Mitch being invasive but tears caused by Mitch making a statement I liked and that was, he was in my life, my kids’ lives and he intended to stay there even if there was now a breezeway separating us.

Mitch walked into the bedroom with me mid-rearrange and mid-sniffle.

And this was when Mitch finally tore away the last hints of my cocoon at the same time he managed the heretofore impossible task of convincing me I was at least an Eight.

He unwittingly started on this mission when he heard the sniffle, walked to me, straightened me away from a drawer, wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close.

Then he dipped his head and locked his eyes with my brimming with wet ones.

He studied the wet then he spoke quietly.

“Kids need stability. The stability necessity pushed us to is them having two homes that are across a breezeway. So our play is, the stability Bud and Billie are gonna keep havin’ is home is here and my place. Circumstances mean you’re in my bed, they’re in theirs in the second bedroom and I’ll deal with decent beds for them soon as I have a chance. Most of the time, though, I’m in your bed so they’re in theirs here. I moved some of my shit in here. I want you to double up on what you and the kids need and move some of your shit to my place. Wherever they are and you are, home will just be home, not runnin’ back and forth to get shampoo and clean t-shirts.” His arms gave me a squeeze, his face dipped closer and his voice dipped lower. “My thinkin’ is, they should ride this right along with us, baby, they’re used to an us that’s together and I don’t think we should shake that up now seein’ as there’s a physical reason to be apart. They’re comfortable both places and we’ll go all out to keep them that way. Bud is clued into what’s goin’ on with you and me and Billie doesn’t care as long as the people she loves are happy. It’s all good.” His eyes held mine, his arms tightened and he asked gently, “You with me?”

“Yeah,” I whispered.

“Baby,” his arms gave me another squeeze, “this is a big decision to make for those kids. You sayin’ ‘yeah’ means you’re expecting to stay in my life so I’ll be stayin’ in theirs. You can suggest another play and, this soon with what we got, I swear, I’ll be cool with that. I’m tellin’ you what I think but askin’ you if you’re with me and I’m not expecting a quick ‘yeah’.”

“Mitch, honey,” I gave him a squeeze back, “the answer is…yeah.”

“Sweetheart –”

I pressed closer, he stopped talking, I slid my hand to curl around the side of his neck and I whispered, “Kids need stability, sure, but it’s not the where that needs to be stable it’s the who. I know that. I lived in the same trailer all my life and it wasn’t a healthy place to be. They lived in the same place with Bill all their lives and that wasn’t a healthy place to be either. I don’t think they care where they sleep as long as you and I are there and since you and I will be there then the answer to the play you’re suggesting is yeah.”

He held my eyes then slowly closed his, drew in a deep breath, let it out and opened them again. It was then I realized my answer was both important and the one Mitch wanted to hear. The former, I knew and the latter meant everything to me.

And, incidentally, that was the first time I felt my soul sigh and it felt freaking great.

As I was experiencing just how great that felt, Mitch went on, “Right, then, you’re cool with that, we’ll talk about the rest.”

Oh boy.

I was pretty happy right then, happier than I’d been my whole life. I wasn’t sure about “the rest”.

Then Mitch gave me the rest.

“I talked to the office and they got two three bedroom units opening up. One in August, one in September. My lease is up in November. They told me yours is up next January. They also told me, we move into a unit in this complex and give them plenty of advance notice, they’ll waive the penalty for jumping one of our leases.”

We move?

We move?

I was nowhere near coping with that when Mitch kept talking.

“I’m not thinking that’s our play.”

I didn’t know if that was a relief or a disappointment.

I didn’t get the time to decide, Mitch wasn’t done.

“It’s a buyer’s market,” he announced. I sucked in breath at these words and he kept speaking, “I’ve been considering finding a place. The time has come for me to quit pissin’ away my money on rent and I’ve had enough for a down payment for awhile. The kids already need to move to a different school, it’d be good they made a move, any move, those moves are permanent ones. I’m thinkin’ about buyin’ a place and I’ll want your input ‘cause, come January, all stays this good, you, Bud and Billie will be movin’ in it with me. We find someplace, we get them in a school close to it.”

My chest was moving rapidly and this was because I was near to hyperventilating.

Mitch continued, “Not big on Bud and Billie sharin’ a room for another six months but they’re used to it, they’re both still kids and, one way or another, on the horizon they’ll have their own space.”

I was hearing him but I was stuck on what he said earlier.

“You want us to move in with you?”

“Yeah.”

“You want us to move in with you.” I repeated but not in question form this time.

His brows drew together and he repeated too, “Yeah.”

“But…uh…Mitch,” I started. “We’ve been together just over a month.”

“I look like a man who doesn’t know what he wants?” Mitch asked and I blinked.

No, he not only didn’t look like that kind of man, he didn’t act like that kind of man and this was because he wasn’t that kind of man.

“No,” I whispered.

“Okay, then do I look like a man who wouldn’t recognize he’s got what he wants when he finds it?”

Ohmigod!

My chest started burning and I forced out another, “No.”

Mitch held my eyes and drew in a short breath.

Then he said, “I’m not talkin’ about tomorrow. I’m talkin’ about January. I was already thinkin’, come November, it was time for me to make a move. That wasn’t about you but now you and those kids are in my life, it’s become about you so you’ll need to be in on this. Shit goes down between us that’s not good, which, baby,” he gave me another squeeze, “is not gonna happen, then you all still have your place. But if it doesn’t, six months from now or before, if we’re ready, you either jump your lease or give it up and we keep on keepin’ on but in a house we own where we got privacy and those kids do too.”

I stared at him.

Mitch allowed this for two seconds then prompted, “You with me?”

“You think I’m a Ten Point Five,” I blurted on a whisper.

His brows drew together again and he asked, “What?”

“Or, at the very least, an Eight,” I blathered on.

“Uh, baby…what?”

I stared at him some more.

I felt his arms around me while we were standing in my bedroom. A bedroom his sister helped me decorate. A bedroom where his kickass sports jackets and shirts were in my closet, his boxers and socks in my drawers and our conversation was about moving in together even though we’d semi-kinda-already moved in together.

So I let it all hang out.

“You’re a Ten Point Five,” I informed him.

“Baby…what?” he asked, slightly confused, slightly impatient, slightly annoyed because, I figured, he knew what I was saying.

“Mara’s World has zones, Ones to Threes, Fours to Sixes and Sevens to Tens,” I told him quietly, his face registered less confusion more annoyance but I powered on. “You’re a Ten Point Five.”

“Mara –”

“Mom convinced me I was a Two Point Five.”

Mitch fell silent but he did this while his face darkened ominously.

I studied his face before I felt tears stinging my nose again and I whispered, “I’m not a Two Point Five, am I?”

“No,” he stated, firmly and immediately.

My eyes went unfocused as my mouth breathed, “I’m not a Two Point Five.”

Then I felt his hand glide up my neck into my hair and I refocused to see his face super close.

“First, honey, people are people and every single one of them is different. You wanna classify them, okay, but in the real world people do what they do, each one making their own decisions which define their lives. Some are good, some are bad, some are a combination of both but every single one is different and they’re subject to change. So, second, the decisions you’ve made in your life define you and if you can’t look inside and see who you’ve created then you need to open your eyes, baby, and look around at the people who care about you and see through them who you’ve created. If I need to make my point by talking about this bullshit classification you’ve come up with then, no, you are absolutely not a Two Point Five. You are nowhere near a Two Point Five and to say it pisses me off even more that your bitch of a Mom and those assholes in that town you grew up in twisted your head to make you think your whole life you are is putting it mildly.”

He was right. Lynette said it. Mr. Pierson acted it. Roberta did too. LaTanya, Derek, Bradon, Brent…even Billy and Billie loved me, trusted me, liked being with me and weren’t afraid to show it.

And neither was Mitch. In fact, from the minute he walked into my house to look at my faucet, he gave no indication whatsoever he thought I was a Two Point Five, just that he not only didn’t mind being there but he wanted to come back for pizza.

Oh God! I was such a dork!

Therefore, I replied, “I’m a dork.”

Mitch shook his head while looking at the ceiling, his arms going way tight then he looked at me and stated irritably, “Jesus, Mara, you are not a Two Point Five and you are also not a fuckin’ dork. Somethin’ else, it does not make me happy to hear you talk about yourself that way. And, last, you gotta look out for two kids and they gotta learn to have confidence in themselves, to make the right decisions in order to define their lives the right way and the person who needs to teach them that is you. You can’t do that, baby, if you don’t see who you are and how beautiful that woman is.”

“You’re annoyed with me,” I pointed out the obvious.

“Uh…yeah,” he confirmed the obvious. “But I’ve also had more than my fair share of experience with people and with women…”

Hmm. He could say that again, especially the latter.

Mitch kept talking.

“And I’m clued into the fact that no matter how hard I can make you come, no really good orgasm is gonna erase your perceptions of yourself and replace them with how I see you. I know what I got on my hands. I also know that most women who look like you have their heads up their asses in a different, far more annoying way. So the bright side is, what happened to you, even though you’re as beautiful as you are, you’ll never think your shit doesn’t stink. And I gotta say, sweetheart, I get your sweet, I get your attitude, I get your mouth and I get all that without conceit and you thinkin’ you can lead me around by my dick, so this is not a bad thing at all.”

“Well, it’s good you can look on the bright side,” I muttered, my eyes sliding to his shoulder and then they flew back to his face when he burst out laughing, his arms closing around me so tight the breath went out of me.

Then he quit laughing, his arms loosened (slightly) and his face got in mine. “Been seein’ a lot of the bright side for a little over a month now,” he whispered and I got a belly whoosh.

“Mitch –” I whispered back.

He cut me off saying, “We got kids to feed. So, gettin’ back to the matter at hand, me buyin’ a house, you and the kids in on that, are you with me?”

I stared into his gentle, soulful eyes, eyes I’d woken up to every morning for over a month, eyes I wanted to wake up to every day for the rest of my life and I knew I was with him. I was with him then, I’d been with him since the first time I told him I was weeks ago and if I could manage it, I would be with him until I took my last breath on that earth.

“Baby, are you with me?” he prompted.

“Yeah,” I agreed softly.

“Good,” he whispered, I smiled then he asked, “Ready?”

“Yeah,” I repeated.

“Break,” he murmured, touched his mouth to mine then let me go and walked into the bathroom.

I turned and finished rearranging my drawers but I didn’t do it crying.

I did it smiling.

Although things had settled down and…well, just plain settled in huge and significant ways, there was one cloud over our literal and figurative sunny days and this was Billy.

Mitch was right; Billie didn’t care where she was or what she was doing just as long as the people around her that she loved were happy. She didn’t need to blossom, her Teflon-coated delight in the world was invincible.

But something was up with Billy.

He stuck to one, the other or both of us like glue. He was often asking Mitch to toss a ball with him (and Mitch did). He asked Mitch or me to help him with his homework every night. He asked me to teach him how to do the laundry. He did the dishes. He helped make dinner. He kept his room tidy. He dragged out the vacuum and vacuumed the entire house. He inventoried the cupboards and wrote stuff on the grocery list. If you were at the store, he’d dash through the aisles to grab stuff so you wouldn’t have to push the cart down each one. If Billie started to get tired and irritable, he fawned over her. If I was tired, he offered to read her to sleep.

If he was with me and Mitch wasn’t around, he asked about Mitch all the time. Where was he? What was he doing? When was he coming home? Didn’t I think Mitch’s hamburgers were the best? Wasn’t it cool how Mitch could do multiplication questions in his head without writing anything down?

After our first date, four times in one day he asked when he and Billie could go back to Penny’s house to spend the night. Then, two weeks later, when Mitch and I had another night on our own with Sue Ellen looking after the kids, when he got home the next afternoon he asked twice when they were again going to Sue Ellen’s.

Then, three days ago, Mitch and I were having an inconsequential tiff in his SUV, about what, I didn’t even remember. The kids were with us and I felt something rolling through the truck that made me feel weird. I turned to look into the backseat and I saw Billy staring out the side window, his profile hard, his teeth clenched, his hands in fists, his shoulders bunched but his lip was trembling. He looked terrified and near tears.

It alarmed me and I immediately quit having terse words with Mitch, gave him a look and jerked my head toward the back. Mitch’s eyes went to the rearview mirror then they went to the road and his jaw got so tight, a muscle jumped there.

Later, in bed, Mitch pulled me on top of him and stated, “You get pissed, I get pissed, we have our words private, not in front of the kids.”

“You saw it then,” I whispered.

“Yeah, I saw it.”

I told him something I guessed he already knew considering he was a cop and very insightful, “He’s not right, Mitch, something is wrong with him.”

“You live bad, sweetheart, you taste good, you’d do anything to keep it. You know that.”

I really did.

I nodded.

Mitch continued, saying softly, “He’s terrified.”

I bit my lip. “Yeah,” I agreed then asked, “Should we talk to him about it?”

Mitch studied me but he did this thinking.

Then he said, “Don’t know. He thinks we cottoned on, might cause more anxiety. We play it cool and give him day to day good and steady, he might relax.”

“I’m going to talk to Bobbie at work about it,” I told him and it was his turn to nod.

“I mentioned it to Slim,” he informed me, surprising me. “Slim caught on when we played catch, though it was hard to miss.”

Slim was Brock, Mitch’s partner’s nickname.

Brock was good. Brock had two boys. Brock probably had a wealth of experience.

“And what does he say?”

“He says if he thinks we cottoned on, it might cause more anxiety. If we play it cool and give him steady, he might relax,” Mitch said on a grin.

“Great,” I muttered and Mitch’s arm gave me a squeeze.

“Our play, we give him two weeks. He doesn’t settle in, we talk again and decide who talks to him. You with me?”

I smiled and whispered, “Yeah. But if you ready, break me, I’m going to protest the play.”

His head tilted on the pillow and his lips twitched. “Why’s that?”

I pressed my body into his and told him, “Because I’m comfy.”

“Sweetheart, you can’t sleep on me,” he pointed out.

“Who’s talking about sleeping?” I asked and his eyes flashed.

Then his hands moved. Then my hands moved.

Then our mouths and tongues moved. Then other parts of us did the moving.

By the time we broke, I was way more comfy, in fact, I was nearly catatonic. But, even so, I got up and cleaned up, put my nightie and panties back on and Mitch tugged on his pajama bottoms. We got naked, obviously, but we didn’t sleep naked. It wouldn’t do for Billie to come in and puke and us to be in our birthday suits.

This concerned me. I’d been scheduled for my foster care classes and CPS had not been around again, although Mitch had informed them of the situation with my apartment and told me I could probably expect another visit when we returned to it.

But I didn’t know how they’d feel about me sleeping with my boyfriend every night with the kids in the same house. Even if that boyfriend was nice guy, good guy Detective Mitchell James Lawson. I didn’t need them to have any reason to shake up the good and steady we were giving the kids.

So, curled into Mitch, I sleepily shared this concern.

To which, Mitch, not sleepy at all, replied, “Anyone tries to take those kids from you, Mara, they deal with me.”

I blinked at his shadowed chest then lifted my head to look at his shadowed face.

“Pardon?”

“You got enough to worry about, don’t worry about CPS. I don’t know where they stand on shit like this but they hear you got a sleepover boyfriend and try to place those kids somewhere else, I’ll create a shit storm like they’ve never seen. So don’t worry about it.”

“How will you do that?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Mitch –”

I stopped talking when he rolled into me so he was on me, totally on me. All his weight and his hands were at either side of my head, fingers in my hair, his shadowy face close to mine. Even though I couldn’t see him, I could definitely feel his intensity.

“You didn’t learn this from the one you had but I learned it from mine. Parents do anything to protect their kids. Anything. Whatever they have to do. They exhaust themselves. They bleed themselves dry. They run themselves ragged. They do whatever they have to do. My Mom and Dad are good now but, growin’ up, we didn’t have a lot and I never felt it. I didn’t even fuckin’ realize it until I was out on my own and looked back at my life. I didn’t need for anything, I rarely wanted for anything. They did that for me and worked themselves to the bone to do it. They taught me life lessons and they let me take my share of falls but the real shit of life, they cushioned me from. Bud and Billie have already taken their share of falls. That’s done for them, Mara, and if it has to be me who sees to it, I’ll see to it.”

I was breathing heavy because he was heavy on me but it was more. A lot more.

“I…I don’t know what to say,” I wheezed. He heard the wheeze and took one hand out of my hair to plant his forearm in bed beside me and take some of his weight off me.

“Nothin’ to say,” he told me. “I just laid out the way it is.”

“Mitch –”

He stopped me talking by touching his mouth to mine then whispering, “Go to sleep, baby.”

“I think –”

“Don’t think,” he growled, his intensity returning. “Hear this. Four years, I watched you be cute and I enjoyed watchin’ your ass move in your tight skirts. But in five minutes at a fuckin’ Stop ‘n’ Go my world was rocked seein’ you with those two kids. Not two hours later, a woman came up to us and told us we had a beautiful family. I didn’t get it because we didn’t have it then but I get it now. She was right. But I also learned I have somethin’ else on my hands. I gotta protect those kids from any more falls and I gotta protect my woman from takin’ any more too and I’ll exhaust myself, bleed myself dry and run myself ragged to see to doin’ that.”

I stared up at him, silent and completely motionless.

Then I burst into tears.

Mitch rolled with me in his arms and I cried in them too.

When I quit crying, Mitch’s hand came to my face and his thumb swept across my wet cheek while he whispered, “Never believed in this shit but now, I’m thinkin’ I fell in love with the promise of you the first time I saw you.”

My body bucked as my breath hitched and the tears came back.

“Mitch –”

“And Bud and Billie mean more to me because they were the catalyst that got me in and gave me you. Just lucky they came with.”

Another hitch another buck another broken, “Mitch –”

“I love you, sweetheart,” he whispered.

I shoved my face in his neck and burst into tears again. These lasted longer.

When they faded, silently, he turned me and curled into my body, holding me close, his face in the back of my hair.

And when the tightness in his arm around me relaxed, I whispered, “You’re my dream man.”

“I know.”

I blinked at my shadowed pillow. “Pardon?”

“Mara, baby, never believed this shit either but now I know you were made for me. So, seein’ as that’s true, it goes the other way too.”

Oh my God.

“I was…I was…made for you?”

“I’m a cop for a reason, honey.”

“So you were made to save me,” I guessed, not sure I liked that.

“No, I was made to protect you and you were made in a way that it would always be worth the effort.”

Okay, that was good. I was definitely sure I liked that.

Too much.

“Oh shit,” I whispered, lips trembling, “I think I’m going to cry again.”

His body shook but his arm got tight as his face burrowed deeper into my hair and I listened to him chuckle.

Which kinda pissed me off.

“Mitch! You don’t laugh during a heart to heart.”

“You do during one that involves Marabelle Jolene Hanover.”

I found myself glaring at my dark pillow. Then I realized I was exhausted from an orgasm, two crying jags and a heart to heart with Detective Mitch Lawson.

So I muttered, “Whatever,” which got me another chuckle.

And…whatever.

I snuggled backwards into Mitch and his arm got tighter. His breath went steady and it got looser.

But I didn’t fall asleep. I stared at the obscure folds of my pillow and played his words in my mind.

Then I played them again.

And repeat.

And each time, my soul sighed.

Then I went to sleep.

That was three days ago.

Now the kids were out of school, it was Saturday, Mitch and I were both off and we were taking the kids to Six Flags Elitch Gardens.

Billy and Billie were beside themselves with excitement seeing as they’d never been to an amusement park in their lives.

I was too, seeing as I hadn’t either.

Mitch was too (in his hot guy, macho cop way), seeing as he got to give that to all of us.

Mitch came out of the bathroom, walked to his pajama bottoms on the floor, tagged them and pulled them up, all while I watched. Then I started to get up, pushing up to a hand but instead of Mitch heading out to go wake up Billy, he came to the bed and sat on the side.

Then his hand lifted, he pushed my hair over my shoulder, his fingers curled around my neck and he drew me near him as he leaned into me.

Then, his eyes holding mine, he whispered, “Best good morning I ever had was the first time you wrapped that mouth of yours around my cock.”

I sucked in breath as my nipples started tingling but he wasn’t done.

“Fuck, baby, knew I loved that mouth of yours but after that, loved it more. Just like everything about you, the reality is better than expected. Off the fuckin’ charts.”

“Mitch,” I whispered back, my hand lifting to curl tight around his wrist.

I watched his eyes smile as he finished, “Gonna have to work hard to top that.”

I knew my eyes were smiling too because my mouth was doing it when I promised, “I’ll see what I can do.”

Then he changed the subject. “Just to let you know, you’re right about the Spring Deluxe. Your mattress is the shit, baby.”

“Told you,” I reminded him.

He grinned.

Then he whispered, “But I’d sleep on a bed of nails, I was sleeping next to you.”

I blinked. Then tears filled my eyes.

Mitch watched this, his thumb sweeping my cheek then he leaned in, touched his lips to mine, got up and walked out to wake up Billy.

I watched then, when the door closed behind his beautiful back and great ass, I flopped back on the bed and stared at the ceiling, deep breathing.

Then I heard Billie screech, “Elitch Gardens!”

Well, I guessed that meant I didn’t have to wake her up.

I heard her little feet beating on the floor, I heard a bang on the bedroom door and then I heard Mitch’s deep voice saying on a lie since I was not in the shower, I was in the bed and naked, “She’s in the shower, gorgeous.”

At this information, Billie switched targets immediately.

“Can we have donuts?”

“We’ll swing by on the way to the park,” Mitch answered.

“Yippee!” Billie squealed.

That was when I smiled at the ceiling.

Let me just say, I liked the real world.

The real world was awesome.

And I was going to stay there awhile.

Hopefully forever.

“T minus two freaking seconds before we’re out the door, baby,” Mitch called impatiently from the front door. Billy and Billie were standing with him, Billie bouncing on her toes and even Billy was fidgeting with excitement.

I was rushing around.

“I need to get sun block,” I told him.

“You can buy that stuff at the park,” Mitch called to me because I was running down the hall.

“Bud, did you get a hat?” I yelled from the bathroom, ignoring Mitch and grabbing the kids’ sun block from their medicine cabinet.

“Yeah, Auntie Mara,” Billy yelled back.

“Billie, honey, did you –?”

“I have a hat!” Billie screamed. “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!”

I shoved the sun block in my big purse while rushing down the hall.

I got to the door.

Then I took them all in and muttered, “Right, let’s go.”

“Yippee!” Billie screeched, Mitch opened the door, she raced out of it, Billy raced after her and I tipped my eyes up to his smiling ones.

“Yippee,” I said softly, smiling huge.

Mitch’s eyes dropped to my mouth then his arm hooked me at the waist, he pulled me to him, his mouth came down on mine and he gave me a short, hot, wet kiss.

Finally he let my mouth go but not my waist, guided me out the door and held me close as we stood outside together while he checked to make sure it was locked.

And there I was doing what I never thought in a million years two months ago I would be doing ever in my life. I was standing in the breezeway pressed close to Ten Point Five Detective Mitch Lawson waiting for him to check to see if my door was locked.

Then, at thirty-one years old, my man took me on my first family visit to an amusement park.

I was wrong.

I didn’t like the real world.

I loved it.

Because it felt like a dream.