Wrangled Mess (7 page)

7

Sleeping with Trace and Bits is a little tricky. Bits wants to be between us. Trace wants under the covers. I can’t find my pillow. Never mind, I have his arm. If Bits would stop irritating Trace I could sleep.

I finally got fed up and grabbed the little piglet by his front shoulders and got in his face, “Now look. If you don’t want to sleep in the guest dungeon, I suggest you lay your little butt down and go to sleep. Stop aggravating your Daddy. He’s not going anywhere, so just stop being a selfish little boy, and go, to, sleep.” I set him over on, my pillow. Oh, there it is. “Stay.” I put my palm up to his nose like a wall.

He turned around twice, curled up and went to sleep.

Trace had snuck under the covers by the time I turned back around. His arms gathered my limbs and draped me over his warm almost naked body. “Well done love. I like your assertive side. It’s sexy.”

I sighed, “I’m so tired.”

He kissed the top of my head. “Sleep well Cookie.”

“Thank you for staying with me.”

“You realize you’re never going to get rid of me now, right?”

“Did I say anything about wanting to get rid of you? It’s not like I’m going to feel safe alone at night again anytime soon, not without you here. Just don’t let me find out you’re making all this up to get in my bed.”

“Getting in your bed is a benefit, but my goal is to get into your heart. I don’t need to make shit up to do that. I take your life very seriously. I wouldn’t worry you if I didn’t think there was damn good reason. I can’t be here all the time, so I need you to keep your eyes open. Don’t stick your hands in places you can’t see, and check your brakes when you drive.”

“You’re scaring me Trace.”

“Good. A little fear will keep you alert. Get some sleep. And no more leaving your door unlocked in the mornings.”

“Okay.” I’m too tired at this point to argue. Between dinner, his snack after dinner, and cleaning up after Bits, I’m whipped.

When I woke up on my own without the alarm, and without my handsome Cherokee wrangler, the first thing I did was pout. Then I panicked. What time is it??

I rolled and grabbed my phone. Nine-fifteen. Okay. Not bad. Now, were is everybody? I got up and adjusted my clothes. Seems to me I remember some wandering hands last night. I smiled at the way he’d stop and lay perfectly still as soon as suspected he’d woken me up. Sneaky, but not. I have no doubt if I’d told him to stop, he would have stopped.

After relieving myself and washing up, I went to the living room. They didn’t see me at first. I froze.

Trace is reading the newspaper on the couch with one hand, and wrestling Bits to his back with the other. There’s an empty plate of what I’m assuming is Trace’s breakfast, and an empty bowl of whatever he’d fed Bits. I recognize the bowl I’ve been using for the little piggy.

The scene before me is domestic, yet not. This is not the type of man one finds sitting on the couch of a model Tuscan home reading the paper and wrestling with a piglet. This is the kind of man women look for on the cover of romance novels.

He sensed me and smiled before looking up and over, “There she is.”

Bits did some kind of piggy Kung Fu ninja move and flipped off the end of the couch to haul his little butt full force towards me. Bits makes me feel as loved as Trace does.

I scooped him up before he crashed into my feet. “Oh my goodness. Did you miss me?” I asked dodging kisses and snout nudges.

Trace set the paper down, “Save some for me Bits. You hungry Cookie?”

“Coffee first. What have you two been doing?”

“I got an early call so I took him with me. That way you could sleep in. I reset your alarm on your phone to ten thirty in case I didn’t make it back.”

“Thank you. It felt good to sleep in. What kind of call did you get?” I tucked Bits in like a football. He’s getting heavier already. Then again, he’s eating every freaking thing he can get his snout on.

“Woodpeckers of all things.”

“Woodpeckers??”

“Yeah, they get a little aggressive sometimes, and don’t mind drilling some ugly holes in people’s houses. I set deterrents, and traps for relocating. A couple of my traps sprung this morning, so Bits and I ran out to relocate them.”

“Was he a good boy?” I rubbed his little snout.

“He was until he ate my breakfast.”

“You didn’t eat here?”

“I wasn’t going to, but that little idiot ate my breakfast burrito while I was trying to drive. He’s food aggressive in the mornings. I probably should have fed him before we left.” He shrugged.

“Next time you’ll know better.”

“I owe you an apology for the mess I seem to have brought into your life. Between the piglet, and exposing Jackson for the thief he is, I feel like I’m disrupting your otherwise peaceful life.”

“More like boring, and disrupt away. You saved me from possibly being taken to the cleaners, and brought a troublesome little pig into my life that I can’t imagine living without now. Kind of like you.”

“Kind of like me what?” He asked handing me a hot cup of coffee.

“Did you put sugar in it?”

“I did. Like me what?”

I sipped the coffee and relished the flavor. “Oh that’s good.”

“Celeste.” And there’s my bad girl name again. How can he scold me and make me feel sexy at the same time??

“Hmm?” I looked up hoping the innocent act works.

“Like me what?”

“I forget. What was I saying?”

“You said you can’t imagine life without the pig. Then you said like me. Don’t play dumb with me woman.”

“I can’t be held responsible for the things I say before coffee. That’s rule number one in this house.”

“Right. What’s rule number two?”

“Check the switch on the Sho-Vac, make sure it says suck not blow.”

He smacked my ass just hard enough I almost spilled my coffee. “That was your fault. Who leaves the vacuum on blow??”

“I do. I get more out of blowing than I do sucking.” I screamed as he chased me from the kitchen.

“Go sit down you little minx.” He stopped short and turned back to the stove. “I knew you were going to be trouble the first time you smiled at me.” He complained.

“Which was what? Three days ago now? We really need to slow down.”

“Why? Are we going to get a ticket?”

“Smart ass.”

“How do you want your eggs?”

“Over easy with a side of extra crisp bacon.”

My show was a mix of my personal life and my callers. I didn’t mind the balance since it gave me an excuse to think and talk about Trace, and Bits.

I explained simply that some relationships run their course, and for me it took someone else coming along to make me realize as much. I didn’t bad mouth Jackson, but I didn’t spend a lot of time on the subject. I don’t care so much about the fact that I come off as having replaced Jackson with another man. Steal from me, and I’m not so sympathetic to your reputation.

My reputation didn’t take as big of a hit as I expected it to. My callers were supportive, and praised me for having the strength, and sense, to know it wasn’t working, and to get out. It felt good to know my fans supported me.

I should probably tell my family more than my callers, but I haven’t had a chance to sit down and think about how to explain Trace to them.

I tried to keep Trace’s identity a secret by only eluding to the fact that he works outside, and has a great body and long beautiful black hair. Things were going just fine until about three o’clock. An hour before the show was supposed to end.

That’s when the door to the studio opened revealing Eddie, Slider, Joe, Salina, and Goat. Goat? What’s he doing here?

I motioned for Barry to take us to commercial and set my headset on my desk. “What’s going on?”

Eddie frowned as Goat pushed past him to snatch me by the arm and and pull me through the door, “You need to tell me everything you know about Jackson, right now.” He all but shoved me to the couch.

I sat hard looking around for Trace, “Where’s Tra… Wrangler?”

“He’s been shot.” Slider stepped forward. “I want to know everything you know. Everything from his shoe size to where he was born. Everything.”

I put my hands to my heart knowing he’s alive, but had to ask. “Where’s Trace?”

“In the hospital getting stitched up. He’ll be fine. This Jackson, is going to die. The guy who shot your old man, is from a rival club back east. A rival that would have no reason to come into this territory unless provoked, or paid. Guess who paid him?”

“I… Robert… shit. Slider. I had no idea he’d go that far.”

“I didn’t say you did, but you’re going to give me everything I need to bring this fucker down legally. If you don’t, you might as well dig his grave yourself.” Slider is pissed, and I’m scared out of my only pair of pink lace panties.

“I’ll tell you everything I can. Will you take me to Trace?”

“Prospects are bringing him here shortly. Salina, take notes. Joe, set up security on this place. If Wrangler is going to be staying here I want this house on lockdown. Nobody goes anywhere alone.”

“Ro… Slider?” I asked when he turned away.

He turned back, “What?”

“Why would Jackson want to kill Trace?”

“He wanted it to look like a club killing. Probably watches too much TV. What better way to push you away from the club, and right back into his arms? He marries you while you mourn, takes every dime you have. Probably sets you up for some crime, or kills you. Come on Celeste. You’re worth a lot of money, dead or alive.”

“Not that much. Not enough to kill me.” I argued unable to believe someone would go through this much trouble, and would care so little about life, to kill me for my money. I know I’m trained to deal with people like this, but under my own roof??

“Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe he’s just pissed off you dumped him for my brother. You’re the shrink. You tell me.” He turned and left me to his minions.

I spent the next hour or more telling Goat everything I could remember about Jackson. I looked up his addresses, phone numbers, resume, and everything else I could find.

When Trace finally walked through the front door I ran everyone over in my path to go to him, and I’m big enough to do it. I stopped short of crashing into him and began my search for damage to my man.

“Oh God. Oh shit.” I looked up, “Trace. I’m so sorry.”

He looks slightly drugged as he touches my cheek. “Not your fault. Cookie. I’m hungry.” He slipped his arm around my shoulders and led me back down the hall. “What’s everybody doing here?”

“Slider says the guy who shot you was hired by Jackson from a rival club back east. He’s pissed because there’s been peace for a while now, and this could quickly get blown out of proportion.”

“Chardonnay. Fuck.”

“You want wine?”

“No. Turner’s sister. She’s the rival club back east.” He explained getting a hug from Slider. “Hey bro.”

“You okay man?”

“I’m good. Can’t kill me that easy. Who shoots long range with a .38?”

“Someone young and desperate for money. We’ll leave you two for now. Keep your phones handy. Joe has the place wired, pick up the phone and we’ll have ears on. Church tomorrow at nine. We need to figure out how, and if, we’re going to return this muther fucker.”

“I’ll be there.”

“Bring Celeste, and pack a bag. I may be putting you two in hiding until we get this Jackson asshole strung up in front of my sister.”

“You talk to Turner yet?”

“Nobody talks to Turner, you talk to his old lady, Georgia, and no. I left her a message, but last I heard he was dragging her up to Montana to do some hunting with Cord.”

“How’d you catch the guy who shot me?”

“I didn’t. Salina happened to be driving past you in AJ. She honked and waved when she saw you sitting in your truck at the light by the bank. That’s when she said she heard the shots and saw you slump over. She was on the phone with 9-1-1 when she saw a man running. Well, you know my wife. She ran him down like a police dog. I think he’s more afraid of her than Goat.”

Trace looked at Salina. “I remember you honking now. Thank you for seeing me.”

“You’re hard to miss handsome.” She waved everybody towards my front door. “Let’s go guys. We’ll hit this in the morning. Night Doc!!”

“Night!” I’m trying to see how bad he’s really hurt. They can see themselves out.

Trace lifted my chin when I touched his arm sling. “Stop. I’m fine.”

I put my arms around him carefully. “I’ve never been so scared in my life. I knew in my heart you were alive, but I couldn’t stop screaming for you to come home on the inside. You don’t know how happy I am to see you. To hold you.”

He put his good arm around my shoulders. “I love you too. I’m okay. Just hungry. Do we have anything to eat?”

I laughed and resisted the urge to hug him as hard as I can, “No. You ate everything. And what your firefighter friends didn’t eat the other night, your biker friends and family ate tonight. Seriously. I think I’m tapped out.”

“Go check the oven. Ten bucks there’s a casserole dish in there.”

“What?”

“Just go check. I’m going to go clean up and get comfortable.”

“Okay. Can I get you anything?”

“Just some water in the bedroom. I need to stretch out.”

“I’ll be right there.” I got a quick kiss before he headed off down the hall to my room. Our room. Looks like we’re living together now. I should be nervous, instead I’m relieved, and a little excited at the idea of waking up to his kisses every morning.

Sure enough there’s a lasagna in the oven. I turned up the heat from warm to 250 and went to feed Bits. It’s still early, but after today I want to shut out the world. I used the remote to close most of the drapes darkening the room to a nice secure cave.

I did the same thing in my bedroom before turning on the fireplace for the second time since I moved in. Normally I’m outside or in the living room. The bedroom fireplace works, but it’s always been more for looks than use.

Trace finally emerged from the bathroom in his boxers with wet hair. “Remind me not to get shot again.”

“Don’t get shot again. Come sit.”

“I can’t sit. One bullet grazed my ass, the other got my forearm. Both were clean through, but still. Fuck that hurt. Hurts. Oh God, don’t tell my mother.”