Anchor - M. Mabie Page 0,19

I yawned as I turned toward the house.

“Thanks for dinner. Your ribs were killer,” Troy added rubbing his belly, stretching out and propping his feet up on my empty chair.

“Night, Blake. Thanks,” Audrey added.

Casey’s and my evening ritual was becoming routine. I loved it. We’d brush our teeth. I tried not to be crazy creepy, but he sort of had a way of doing things. He’d take off his clothes and put on a pair of shorts to sleep in. He’d stretch his neck while he pulled back the blankets. After I climbed into my pajamas, I’d claim the remote. He always waited for me to get into bed before he climbed in. We went in together.

We were quiet, but when we’d catch the other looking, we’d smile at one another. The smiles were new too. Not we’re about to have reckless sex smiles—although I think we both still enjoyed those. They weren’t friendly smiles. These were smiles earned, fought for, and appreciated. We’d worked hard for these little moments and when our eyes met like that, for a split second we’d both acknowledge how far we’d come.

Unlike in my former life, where the old me and the other man in my life would find our sides of the bed and stay in them, Casey and I rolled into each other. My sheets were starting to smell like something new. Mixed chemistries. His and mine meshing on the fabric. He had a favorite pillow in my bed. My favorite pillow was the crook of his arm.

As we found our places, the spots where our bodies aligned, he sighed.

“So are you going to tell me what’s up?”

It was now or never. Even though he knew the results of what happened, he didn’t know exactly how. And with Grant playing even more games, Casey needed to be armed. I wouldn’t let anything happen to the man holding me in his arms. He was full of good and love, and even when I’d damn near ruined us both by not accepting everything he wanted to give me, he never held that against me. He deserved my best. My very best. That included my honesty and trust.

“I talked to Reggie this morning,” I began. My finger traced the words inked on his chest as I prepared myself for everything I was about to say. My foot linked around his leg and I was centered.

I drew another breath, and since he was waiting for me to continue, I let it all out.

“He said that there’s a guy he knows at the station—I think he said his name was Paul. Anyway, this guy called him and said he’d heard that he may be changing his story. Apparently, it was suggested that pulling the gun was self-defense and maybe you were the one who hurt me.”

He stiffened. Breathed. Then, held me tighter.

“The cop said that everyone pretty much knows that’s bullshit, but if it went down like that, there would definitely be a trial and Reggie thinks you’d be called in. Maybe arrested if he goes through with saying you did it all.”

I kissed his shoulder and sorted through my thoughts. He moved me on top of him, and I folded my arms under my chin on his chest so I could look at his face. A storm brewed there, but he was doing a damn fine job of staying calm.

“I called Dr. Rex and told her everything. I told her what I remember.”

His eyes looked a little relieved, but still turbulent weather swirled in them.

“I wanted her to have record of me telling what happened before it all got messed up. And I want to tell you too. I’m sorry that I’ve been saying I can’t remember what happened. I was lying. Wasn’t going to keep it to myself forever, just until I processed it. You know?”

He nodded and leaned up to kiss my arm. It was about the only part he would reach with me lounging on him like I was.

“I understand that. Believe it or not, I knew that’s what you were doing.”

“Plus, I knew it was going to hurt you and my family. It was awful, Casey. I wish I couldn’t remember,” I whispered, because my voice began to cut out.

I exhaled my hesitations and inhaled all the strength I could take in. His hands rubbed long, slow passes over my back to soothe me. His touch had magic in it and, in that moment, I needed his strength. I needed him.

“So you