He kept his hand where it was but lifted his head and looked over mine, muttering, “Fuck me.”
“I’m thinking, the last five years, a bleach blonde with an unhappy home life is rethinking the deal she made and which man she left blowing in the wind,” I noted, his eyes tipped down to me and I noticed instantly he was no longer feeling in a warm and squishy mood.
His growled, “Don’t give a fuck,” confirmed it.
“Me either, except I hope every day she wakes up to a man who doesn’t want her and every night she goes to bed beside him, that bitch-face chokes on her decision until the bile she forces down grows so much it cuts off her air forever and leaves doctors stumped at her untimely but deserved demise.”
After I was done, Ty blinked again. Then his fingers at my neck got super tight as he threw back his head and roared with laughter.
I smiled but didn’t laugh since I was watching him.
Then he looked back at me but again dipped his face close, “Shit, mama, remind me not to piss you off.”
“Okay, don’t piss me off.”
He grinned and I returned it because I was pleased I’d brought back his good mood.
Then I said, “I gotta get back to work, honey.”
His hand at my neck brought me closer while he muttered, “Yeah.”
Then his mouth was on mine, he kissed me short but it was wet and it was hot. Then his mouth broke from mine and he whispered, “Later, mama.”
“Later, Ty,” I whispered back and he smiled at me, straight out, no lips turned up, no grin, a big, beautiful one and I loved that, I loved that those were coming more often, more relaxed, more natural.
I loved it.
Then he gave my neck one last squeeze, let me go and turned away.
If I’d have known what was going to happen that night, I would have taken my chance to watch him go. I would have made him kiss me longer. I would have tried to make him laugh one more time.
But I didn’t know.
And since I didn’t know, I, too, turned and walked away.
*
I was on my way home from work after popping to the store to pick up some stuff for dinner and the elaborate dessert I had planned (whipped cream and chocolate pudding parfaits with chocolate sprinkles) and just in case Julius needed snacks while we were at work.
And I was just outside of Carnal when I saw the police lights flash and heard the short, warning whir of the siren before it was shut off.
I looked to my rearview mirror, felt the adrenalin rush then my eyes instantly went to my speedometer.
After what Tate said at Bubba’s, I’d memorized the speed limits in and around Carnal. Thirty in town. Forty on the stretch I was on between town, the turn off to our condo and beyond for another half mile. Then fifty-five all the way to Chantelle.
I was careful, super careful, always.
As I was now. I was going just under forty.
Shit.
I pulled to the side and the cruiser pulled to the side behind me.
Then I watched in my mirror as Officer Rowdy Crabtree sat in his cruiser for a couple of minutes talking on the radio. Then my rapidly beating heart slid up into my throat as he opened his door and folded out of the vehicle.
My window was already rolled down so I didn’t take my eyes off the mirror until I lost sight of him at the side of the car. It was then I turned my head to the window.
I got him when he arrived at my window where he immediately bent at the waist, his shades hit mine and I smiled.
“Hi Officer,” I said.
“Miz Walker,” he did a mini-dip of his chin, “license and registration.”
“Can you tell me why you stopped me? I was a mile under the speed limit,” I replied.
“License and registration.”
Shit. Shit. Fucking shit!
I turned to my purse, grabbed my license then bent to the glove compartment and found the registration. Then I turned back to him and handed both out of the window.
He studied them, as cops do. Then he looked down his nose at me while I peered out my window up at him.
“My understanding, Miz Walker, is that you are now a resident of the state of Colorado.”
“Um… I am.”
“Plates on your car say Texas.”
Shit. Shit. Fucking shit!
Was that bad? Could I get a ticket for that? A fine? Didn’t I have a window to get that shit done?
I didn’t know. I wished I knew.
“Driver’s license is from Texas too,” he went on.
“Uh… well, I just moved here not too long ago –” I started but he cut me off.
“I do know that, Miz Walker, but vehicle registration, plates and driver’s license should declare the proper information, including address. You live in Colorado, these should state Colorado.”
“Okay,” I told him. “I’ll see to that on Monday. I have the day off. Won’t be a problem.”
“Monday isn’t now, Miz Walker,” he replied.
Dick.
He was fucking with me; I knew it, just because I was married to who I was married to.
The thing I didn’t know was just how much he intended to fuck with me and from what happened to Ty and what Tate said, the how much could be a whole lot and none of it I would enjoy.