Kristen Ashley - Law Man

Mitch shook his head. “Don’t. Don’t take on that guilt. You did right by your family. He did wrong. It’s that simple. Keep it that simple. You with me?”

Bob continued to hold his eyes. Then he nodded.

Mitch decided to move on and allow Bob to do the same.

“I’ll talk to Mara. She’ll make her barbeque chicken pizza. You and your wife can come over. Yeah?”

Bob smiled. It was small but genuine.

“I’ve heard about Mara’s pizza.”

“It’s the shit,” Mitch informed him and Bob’s smile got bigger.

Then it faded.

“She never had one and I think of my staff as family so, I hope you don’t find this strange, but I feel like a father figure to her. And feeling that, I want you to take this as it’s meant. I’m pleased when she finally chose, she chose well, Mitch. I approve.”

That was when Mitch smiled.

“Thanks,” he muttered.

“No,” Bob muttered back, “thank you.”

Mitch gave him a chin lift. Bob returned it then led him out.

On the showroom floor, they shook hands. Then Mitch’s eyes located his woman and his body moved her way.

She was still with her male customer.

The man’s gaze came to Mitch as did Mara’s.

“Sorry to interrupt, this’ll just take a second then I gotta go,” Mitch told the man then he wrapped his arm around Mara, hauled her stiff with surprise body against his and kissed her, short, hard but very wet.

When he lifted his head, her body was no longer stiff and she was blinking.

“See you when you get home tonight, baby,” he whispered, looked to the now visibly disappointed man, jerked up his chin, looked back at his woman, gave her a grin and let her go.

His work was done.

He walked out seeing Roberta’s huge, bright smile.

He had Roberta’s approval too.

He gave her another low wave.

She returned it but hers wasn’t low.

He looked to the floor, shook his head and, grinning, Mitch walked out.

Mara

Five days later…

“We’re leaving, three minutes!” I called, grinning at Roberta who was standing opposite me at the bar, her kids in their swimsuits barely containing themselves in the living room.

We both had the day off and we were taking our kids to the pool. They were going to horse around while we worked on our tans. Then we were going to come back, shower and go to Casa Bonita.

A celebration.

Mitch was at the Station with the papers from our attorney.

Bill was relinquishing custody.

Yes, a celebration. And nothing said celebration like dinner with your friends at a crazy family restaurant that sold Mexican food and had strolling musicians and cliff divers.

“Auntie Mara!” Billie shouted and I could tell by her voice she was behind closed doors in the bathroom. “My suit’s all messed up! I can’t fix it!”

“I’ll go,” Bobbie muttered and moved toward the hall as my new cell phone sitting on the counter rang.

I looked down to see the display said, “Unknown caller.”

My brows knit and I wondered if Mitch was calling from an extension at the Station. I picked it up, took the call and put it to my ear.

“Hello,” I greeted.

“Chestnut.” I heard a gravelly voice say.

Holy cow.

“Tack,” I whispered.

“Yo, babe,” he replied like he called me to gab every day.

How weird.

What did I do now? Outside an intense drama, I’d never had a conversation with a biker that I liked before and I hadn’t heard from him since it all went down.

I decided to ask, “Uh…how are you?”

“Wonderin’ how I keep missin’ my shot at the good ones,” he replied even more weirdly.

“Pardon?” I asked.

“Nothin’, darlin’,” he muttered then went on, “Just wanted to say, I made you a promise.”

My breath caught.

Tack wasn’t done.

“Haven’t forgotten it.”

“Okay,” I whispered.

“And I won’t.”

“Uh…okay,” I repeated.

“My world, shit like that goes down, someone pays.”

Oh boy.

Maybe I should let him off the hook about his promise.

“Tack –”

“Stay beautiful,” he ordered then he was gone.

I stared at my phone.

“Who was that?” I heard Bobbie ask and I looked up to see her and Billie in her cute, little hot pink bathing suit with the baby pink ruffles on her booty walking into the living room-slash-kitchen-slash-dining room.

“My angel of vengeance,” I answered and she blinked.

Then she smiled and asked, “What?”

“Nothing,” I murmured.

“ Pool! ” Billie shrieked.

I smiled at my girl.

I tossed my cell in my beach bag, grabbed the handles, moved around the counter in my flip-flops and replied, “Pool.” Then I shouted, “Bud! Light a fire under it!”

Bud ran into the room in his trunks and a tee.

Bobbie corralled her kids.

We walked out of my apartment and headed to the pool.

Once I was lounging, I called Mitch to tell him about my phone call from Tack. He made no comment (though he did give me heavy silence for a moment) and then he shared that he was at the attorney’s office handing off the papers Bill signed.

I looked at the kids horsing around in the pool.

“They’re yours, sweetheart,” Mitch said softly in my ear.

They were.

My soul sighed.

“Hurry home tonight,” I said softly back. “Casa Bonita. Bray and Brent confirmed though they did it under protest and informed me they’ll be wearing disguises because if any of their gay posse sees them in Casa Bonita they’ll get kicked out of the club. Tess called and told me she, Brock and the kids are meeting us there. So are Kenny and his kids. LaTanya and Derek are following us.”

“Got it.”

“We’ll be ready when you get home.”

“Got it.”

“We still on for those viewings with the real estate agent on Saturday?” I asked.

“Yep,” he answered then threw out his own question. “You sittin’ by the pool right now in a bikini?”

“Yep,” I answered.

“Fuck,” he muttered.

I grinned.

My man thought I was hot.

“I’m also covered in suntan oil,” I shared.

I heard that sound I knew and loved come from deep in his chest, Mitch’s immensely attractive chuckle.

Then he said, his voice deep and vibrating with his laughter, “Mara.”

I closed my eyes.

That was mine.

Mine.

A life ahead of me with a beautiful, good man who said my name often with his deep voice vibrating with laughter.

And again, my soul sighed.

“Auntie Mara!” Billie yelled. “Come dunk me!”

I opened my eyes.

“The princess speaks,” Mitch muttered again, a smile in his voice.

“You know it,” I replied, my smile in mine.

“And love it.”

My soul sighed yet again.

That was mine too.

All mine.

“Right,” I whispered. “Love you, baby.”

“Love you too, honey.”

“Ready?” I asked.

“Ready,” he replied, a smile again in his voice.

“Break,” I whispered, my smile also in mine.

Then he was gone.

Mitch

Thirteen years later…

“That shirt burnin’ your skin?”

Mitch was looking down at his wife who was wearing a Colorado Rockies jersey.

The number on the back, 9.

“Absolutely not,” she replied and he grinned.

“Any Cubs fans see you in that, they’re gonna throw you out of the Die Hard Club,” Mitch warned.

“I’ll take my chances,” Mara muttered.

Mitch grinned.

“We’re late, we’re late! Sorry, we’re late.” They both heard and Mara’s head turned as Mitch’s eyes went down the row to see Billie and her latest boyfriend scooting along the row, her dark hair shining in the bright Colorado sun, way too fucking much of her long, tanned legs exposed by her short-shorts.