It was a long and energetic night.
Time to sleep.
She turned out the light and put a knee to the bed, shifted to him and then curled into him.
He wrapped an arm around her and trailed his fingertips over the panties covering the cheek of her ass.
“Love our bed,” she mumbled into his chest, voice sleepy.
He did too, now that she was back in it but he didn’t articulate this.
She didn’t mind and he knew that when she whispered, “’Night, honey,” giving his gut a squeeze with her arm.
“’Night, mama.”
He felt a slight smile as her mouth moved her cheek.
Then she was out.
Five minutes later, she rolled.
Then he went to jack up the AC and rejoined his wife, his eyes passing the shadow of the picture frame that was back in its place on the dresser.
She’d carried it with her.
Seeing that frame, knowing he’d always been with her, that wound closed tight.
He joined his wife in bed and curved into her body. She snuggled closer.
And it was not lost on Ty Walker that for over six weeks, sleep did not come easy. Memories invaded, not good ones. Demons. Demons of prison and demons of living a dream he never thought he’d have then losing that dream.
Only last night, did they retreat.
And that was because, his wife being there, she was there to beat them back.
So he let her do it again and fell asleep thinking of nothing but her warmth, her softness, the scent of her hair and f**king her in the shower the next morning.
Chapter Seventeen
The Home Stretch
“Alexa Walker?”
“That’s me.” I smiled at the delivery man standing on our back deck, he smiled back, offered me his pen-like doohickey, I signed the screen on his other doohickey, gave it back to him and he handed me the big, soft-sided envelope.
I took it, gave him a wave, shut the door on him, hoped he didn’t take offense when I also flipped the lock (these days in Carnal, couldn’t be too careful) then I took the package to the island and ripped it open.
Two plastic wrapped tees fell out and I didn’t hesitate to rip the plastic off, pleased to feel the cotton of the tee was soft and supple, not scratchy and stiff. I shook the first one out, Ty’s size, and held it out in front of me.
Then I smiled huge.
I flipped it around and looked at the back.
My smile got bigger.
I ripped open the next one, girl-fit, my size but same color, same words on the front, different words on the back.
I cleared all the packaging away, shoved it in the garbage bin and then laid the tees side by side on the counter, smoothed them out flat, stepped back and stared at them.
I’d found the site on-line, design your own tees and pay practically nothing to get them express.
So I bought Ty and I black tees that said on the front, “Team Walker” in big white letters and in smaller lettered italics with quotes under it, “We never admit defeat”. On the back of Ty’s it said, “Mr. Humongo” and on the back of mine it said, “Mr. Humongo’s Mama”.
I freaking loved them.
Ty would take one look at them and think I was a total goof.
I didn’t care. And if he only wore his at home while watching games, I didn’t care about that either.
But I was wearing mine in town.
After, of course, all the bad guys went away. Had to keep my head down. Too much happening, I didn’t need to be in their face.
It was Monday about a week and a half after I got home and all that time had been busy.
I got home on a Thursday. Ty had to work both Friday and Saturday. Friday was taken up with me getting the house in order, catching up, sorting shit out, getting my car and then dinner with Julius and Anana. Saturday, Ty arranged for Tate, Deke, Jonas and Bubba to go get my shit from Dominic and Daniel’s and me unpacking it. Sunday was shopping where we bought a square coffee table and a big rug for the living room that was a beautiful light cream with a black edge that went perfect with the black couch and Tuku’s pen and ink. Ty again slid straight into shopping mode with no pressure from me and he also bought a big, oval, art deco, black dining room table with six matching chairs, their seats and backs upholstered in cream. We moved the sectional and TV from the side wall all the way across so it formed a cozy seating area in front of the fireplace and left a huge expanse of space behind it where we put the dining room table when it was delivered.
I, of course, on a lunch break bought the big, round, glass vase I had my eye on at the Carnal Country Store and the proprietress thanked me profusely for buying it saying, “Sugar, that thing has been on my shelf for a year and a half. Ranchers and bikers do not have an eye for glass vases. But I thought it was pretty. I gotta learn, if it don’t have an antler or a skull on it, I’m screwed.”
I was happy to take it off her hands and happier that she’d marked it down fifty percent.
The vase looked perfect in the middle of the table.
The next Thursday, Ty’s day off but I was back at work, I came home and it had two dozen blush and cream roses in it.
That was my husband. He did bling of all kinds, some of it didn’t shine as bright but that didn’t mean it wasn’t awesome.
Outside of the time I spent with Ty, reacquainting myself with friends, getting back to work, unpacking and sorting our home, I spent my time getting my shit sorted. I went to the DMV and got a Colorado driver’s license and plates for my new (red with wide, black racing stripes running up the hood, roof and down the back, 2012, f**king gorgeous) Charger. I’d already had my mail forwarded from Dallas but I put another forward on it when I left, sending it to Ella. I again changed that. I also got on-line and changed all my information with anyone who carried it. I’d closed my bank account in Dallas when I was there but opened one in Carnal. And Ty put money in it so I could pay off my credit cards which I did.
I did all this because I would do all this (eventually) but I did this as a matter of priority because Ty asked me to make certain that “those assclowns got no shit to f**k with you with”.
I saw the wisdom of this advice and didn’t delay.
Bessie had politely declined our offer but did not decline keeping the cash I earned from my Charger, cash I left behind with her. She promised me, once she got on her feet, she’d pay me back. I let her promise me that and when she tried to pay me back, I would decline. I knew she’d take care of me for free, I knew she’d take care of me no matter what but I needed to give her that. It didn’t cover what I owed her for pulling me together after I fell apart but then again, nothing would. But it would be something.