“You’re not irrelevant.”
“No. And now a man’s dead and his five-year-old son is probably not gonna remember him much when he grows older and it’s been made clear in the ugliest of ways that I’d sure as fuck rather be talkin’ to owners of stores across the county about spray paint purchases. I’m also a dick for not seein’ that as relevant, no matter I don’t like the citizens I’m doin’ it for.”
“You’re not a dick either, Hixon.”
Hix looked to the street and did it belting back half the healthy dose of bourbon she’d poured for him. The burn made the muscles in his jaw bulge out as he gritted his teeth to fight it. But not long after, the warmth hit his chest and gut and it was worth it.
“You didn’t will Faith’s husband to get murdered because you were bored, darlin’,” she said carefully.
Hix’s only response was to throw back the rest of the bourbon.
“How can I help?” she asked.
“You’re doin’ it, lettin’ me sit with you and bitch.”
She let that sink in then she offered, “Can I get you more bourbon?”
“Gotta drive home, Greta, so no.”
“You don’t have to drive home.”
He turned his head to her again.
“This,” he started, lifting his empty glass to indicate the two of them on her porch, “is about a friend comin’ to a friend after a shitty day. It isn’t about me showin’ at your place to bury that day in something sweet.”
She smiled at him. It was small, sad, sympathetic, but entirely genuine.
“Okay. Though . . . uh, the ‘something sweet’ remark totally bought you that option if you want it open to you.”
He couldn’t believe it after the day he’d had, but what she said made his lips tip up.
“Good to know,” he muttered.
“You can think on that over another glass of bourbon,” she returned.
He looked at her a couple of beats then he looked to his glass.
He didn’t answer her before she slipped the glass out of his hand and she was again walking in front of him to get into the house, this time carrying her closed laptop with her.
She was back, he had another healthy dose of bourbon in his hand and she was settled in beside him, sipping wine, when he asked, “What were you doing on your laptop?”
She glanced over his shoulder into her front window like she could see it from there and then back at him.
“Trolling eBay and discount designer sites for new cocktail dresses.” She shot him a big grin. “I have a guest room closet full of them, due to my history.” She lifted up her hand, thumb and forefinger half an inch apart before dropping it, all the while talking. “And I’ll admit the barest hint of an addiction to pretty, shiny dresses. That said, I haven’t bought one in a while and I figured it was time to treat myself.”
“You find anything you like?”
“Seven hundred anythings. I should say, more precisely, when you showed, what I was doing on my laptop was narrowing that down.”
He tipped his lips up at her again before he looked to the street and threw back more bourbon.
“Sorry I didn’t call today,” he said to the shadowy quiet beyond her porch.
“Word travels fast, Hix,” she replied, back to soft and gentle. “I got it.”
“Not thinkin’ I can take you to lunch anytime soon.”
“I get that too,” she told him. “But, just sayin’, I’m on my porch practically every night. Like the quiet. It’s restful. Sets me up for a good night’s sleep. So, seein’ as my porch doesn’t have a door, it’s safe to say it’s open for you anytime you wanna share it with me. That said, even if I’m in the house, my door is open to you, even if first I gotta unlock it after you ring the bell.”
Hix looked to her again and his tone laid testimony to the truth of his, “Means a lot, sweetheart.”
She nodded.
He lifted his glass and again shifted his attention to the sleepy street before he took another drink.
He felt her attention drift from him and they sat in the quiet for a while, both of them putting back bourbon or wine.
After some time, she asked, “You get any food in you today?”
He hadn’t.
“Not hungry.”
“I bet,” she whispered, then offered, “I can make you a sandwich or something.”
Nat Calloway’s last meal was a sandwich.
“Think I’m good,” he declined.
She kept at it.
“You wanna go in? Relax in front of a movie?”
He looked to her. “Thanks, babe, but no.”
Her face grew soft as her gaze grew concerned. “Is there anything I can turn your mind to to help you take it off your day?”
“Probably not.”
The concern deepened. “You gonna be able to sleep?”
“Probably not,” he repeated.
She studied him for a few beats before a playful smile hit her face. “Just guessing on this, but seeing as you’ve been busy, you probably haven’t bought any condoms.”
That shocked a short bark of laughter from him and he shook his head through it, answering, “That guess would be right.”
“Damn,” she whispered, still smiling at him.
He twisted his torso in the chair and leaned into the arm toward her. “Again, Greta, I’m not here for that, and just to say, me wanting to have lunch with you is about communicating that to you too. It’s safe to say I like what we’ve shared in a big way but I’m not here to get that from you and that’s not all I want from you. It hasn’t swung my way to find a time to prove that to you so I’m takin’ that time now. I’ll finish my bourbon. I figure you won’t share wide I had two before I got in my car, unimpaired, mind you, and drove the five-minute drive home. But that’s what I’m gonna do.”
“I want you to stay,” she blurted.
He stared into her eyes.
She leaned into him too. “I want you to stay, Hixon. I want to be with you, but more, I don’t want you to be alone. Not after today. Not with what you’ve gotta face tomorrow. I heard you and I appreciate what you’ve said. But there’s not much I can do to help you out except look after you. So how about you let me do that.”
“Baby,” he murmured.
She said no more and didn’t wait for him to say anything.
She unfolded from her chair, got up, transferred her wineglass from her right hand to her left and came in front of him. She bent to him, wrapped her fingers around his free hand resting on the arm of the chair and she gave it a tug.
He resisted.
She tugged harder, her eyes locked to his.
Hix quit resisting.
When they were both standing and doing it close, she tipped her head back and whispered, “Let’s go to bed.”
Looking in her beautiful face, hers filled with soft concern but also traces of anticipation, Hix didn’t bother attempting more resistance.
He followed her into her house, watched her turn off the porch light and locked her front door himself.
Naked, his back to her headboard, his knees cocked, up and opened wide, his fingers gentle in her hair, Hix watched Greta suck him off.
He could come just watching how deeply she got off sucking his cock.