Kristen Ashley - Law Man

I got greetings, Billie’s was how she greeted Mitch which was to say a body collision followed by a hip hug then she went back to chasing imaginary butterflies (or whatever). Mitch’s was distant (as in physically since he didn’t quit playing catch) but not distant emotionally because his eyes warmed, his face got soft and his beautiful mouth smiled when he saw me. I also got introductions and a handshake from the woman I didn’t know who was Tess O’Hara (of Tessa’s Bakery!). She was the woman of Brock Lucas (the extremely hot guy) who was Mitch’s partner (oh my God! his partner! cop partners were like family!) who gave me a chin lift and the two boys were Joel and Rex, Brock’s sons (oh my God again!) and we were going out to dinner with them (oh my God, God, God) after catch.

After I managed the herculean task of not hyperventilating and/or fainting, I joined Tess, LaTanya and Brent on the picnic table and watched Mitch, Derek, Brock, Joel, Rex and Billy playing catch.

And that was when I started fretting.

Not because of my crazy life living in a dream world. Not because I’d found out that day my new charges’ insurance was going to suck a huge amount out of my paycheck every two weeks. Not because my day was ending with Mitch playing catch with Billy and us going out to (another) family dinner, this being extended cop family including his partner and his family. Not because I hadn’t heard from Mom and Aunt Lulamae in a while and I knew this meant they’d retreated in order to plot and that did not bode good things.

No, I was fretting because Billy was not really good with a baseball mitt or throwing a ball. This was likely because he’d never tossed a ball with his father. But that wasn’t it either. It was the fact that it was clear he wanted to be good not because he actually wanted to be good but because, I was guessing from his behavior which was openly anxious, he didn’t want to annoy or disappoint Mitch.

And he seemed not to cotton onto the fact that Mitch, nor Brock nor Derek for that matter, were anywhere near annoyed or disappointed. All the men were patient and encouraging, not in an overbearing way, in a natural, calm way that was not penetrating Billy at all. The more they tossed the ball, the more anxious Billy became whenever he missed a catch or threw wild, which was nearly every time.

“This isn’t good,” I muttered as I watched Billy miss another catch that Mitch tossed what would have been straight into his mitt if he hadn’t screwed up his concentration, tried too hard and moved his mitt at the last minute.

“He’ll relax, babe,” LaTanya muttered back. “Remember this is as new to him as it is to you and Mitch.”

“He’s freaking out,” I whispered.

“Totally,” Brent whispered back and I looked at him to see he was concentrating on Billy too. “He’s all wound up.”

“It’s because he thinks Mitch, Brock and Derek are cool but that’s only because Mitch, Brock and Derek are cool and he doesn’t want to be not cool,” Tess explained then she bumped me softly with her shoulder and whispered, “He’ll calm down, Mara. It’ll be okay.

“That’s not it,” I told her.

“That’s totally it,” LaTanya butted in.

I shook my head, thinking about the last day or two and replied, “He’s like a kid robot. It’s not just playing catch. I think he’s wound up all the time.”

“That’s weird,” Brent observed. “You’d think he’d relax, being away from his Dad and someplace safe.”

I silently agreed as I watched Billy throw the ball to Derek, it went way high, Derek leaped and just tagged it before it flew over the tip of his mitt. Billy watched Derek land and his face screwed up so tight, it was hard to watch.

Too hard.

And that was when I was done.

I prepared to make a move to go to him but then I heard Mitch call, “A minute, guys.”

He had his gloved hand pointed to Derek, palm down. Derek tossed the ball to Mitch and Mitch caught it in his glove like it was second nature as he walked toward Billy. When he got to Billy, he crouched low.

Billy took a step back. Mitch’s hand lifted, curled around Billy’s shoulder and he carefully guided the little boy between his opened, bent legs. Mitch spoke to him and Billy’s head tipped down, staring at the grass, concentrating. Then Billy bit his lips. Then Billy’s head jerked and his eyes caught Mitch’s.

I held my breath.

Mitch grinned at Billy. Billy grinned back. Mitch’s hand still at Billy’s shoulder gave him a gentle-rough shake then he straightened and walked away.

Billy licked his lips and took two steps back. Mitch turned and tossed the ball to him and Billy stood still, watched it fall into his glove and he curled the glove around it.

The minute it did, I jumped up, threw my arms straight in the air and shouted, “Whoop! Whoop! Go Billy!”

Billy’s eyes shot to me, shock in them as Brent, Tess and LaTanya jumped up next to me and shouted too. His face cracked into a hesitant smile and his eyes cut to Mitch.

“Right here, Winchell,” Mitch called, slapping the inside of his mitt. “Focus, Bud, keep your eyes on my mitt, don’t think about anything and let go.”

Billy nodded, wound up and let go. The ball flew high and to Mitch’s right but not nearly as far as it had been. Mitch caught it easily and Billy’s face lit into a huge smile as Mitch threw a smile back at him.

“Awesome!” Derek yelled.

“Go Billy! Go Billy! Go Billy!” Brent started chanting, LaTanya, Tess and I joined and Billie ran up to us, adding her voice to the cheer as she wrapped her arms around my hips. A blush crawled up Billy’s face and he bit his lip again but he did it through a smile.

Mitch tossed to Derek and Derek tossed to Brock and Brock tossed to Billy quickly, not giving Billy a chance to think about it and Billy caught it again. We cheered again. Billy’s blush got redder and he immediately threw the ball at Mitch again and it nearly landed right in his mitt. Mitch only had to adjust a few inches.

Another cheer from the peanut gallery, louder and crazier this time.

Derek started laughing. Brock threw a grin at his woman (which, seriously, was hot). Mitch smiled at the turf, shaking his head before he lifted it again and fired a shot at Derek, Derek caught it and instantly fired the ball at Billy who had to reach for it but he caught it again. Another crazy, loud, wild cheer.

And so it went, Mitch, Brock, Derek and even (very patient, I might add) Joel and Rex didn’t give Billy the chance to screw up by concentrating too hard or thinking about his nervousness. They even switched it up, with Mitch catching Billy’s pass and then passing straight back to Billy and Billy fell into that game too.

The peanut gallery settled in at the picnic table as the boys settled into their game of catch. Billy missed some but they were few and far between and his tosses weren’t dead on accurate but they were much better and finally he even gained enough confidence to put some oomph behind them.

Billie climbed up on the top of the picnic table, got on her knees behind me, pulled my hair out of its ponytail and started to play with it as Brent, LaTanya, Tess and I started talking about everything under the sun. Through this I watched Billy relax and start to enjoy himself and the guys started to chat about whatever guys chatted about when they played catch.

Eventually my eyes strayed to Mitch and then they strayed over Mitch’s perfect body moving athletically as he chatted to our friend, his partner, his partner’s boys and my beloved cousin.

And I was lulled deeper into my insane dream world that shouldn’t be mine but I couldn’t let it go.

And I couldn’t let it go because the sun was shining. It was May in Colorado. It was warm. I was with a bunch of people I loved, new people that were cool and although everything was very, very wrong in Mara World, in this world, in that gleaming, perfect moment, everything was very, very right.

* * *

Therefore, after catch we went out with Tess, Brock and Brock’s boys.

We had a great dinner that was pandemonium (mostly because of Billie who clearly couldn’t decide if she had a bigger crush on Joel or Rex so she lavished attention on both of them in addition to Mitch, who was definitely now her third most favorite person in the world behind Billy and me and she wanted him to know it) and the entire time we were out I didn’t feel like I was in an insane dream world that wasn’t mine.

I didn’t feel that at all.

Not even when dinner was over and Mitch scooted his chair close, wrapped his arm around the back of mine and idly played with a lock of my hair while he talked to Brock.

Not even then.

I felt like this was real, it was mine and I liked it.

It felt freaking great.

So I stayed there.

* * *

The next morning started like the last and, except for Mitch letting me into my apartment to get my stuff to dress for our date, was mostly the same.

But it wasn’t going to end the same.

And it wasn’t until I was dressed, made up, ready for our date and staring at myself in Mitch’s mirror that I realized my mistake.

And this was when the silken cocoon that was crafted snug, safe and warm around me made from Mitch’s warmth and kindness completely shredded.

And when it did, the harsh, bright light of Mara World glared in, reminding me who I was, who he was and how this was all likely to end.

I blinked at myself in the mirror as I heard Mitch come through the front door.

And it was then I knew, for the kids’ sakes, my sake, Mitch’s sake and mostly the sake of all of our hearts, I had to yank all of us back into the glaring light of Mara World before it was too late.

“Mara, sweetheart, you ready?” Mitch called from his living room-slash-kitchen-slash-dining area.

It was on unsteady legs in silver, strappy, stiletto-heeled sandals that I walked out finally determined to explain to Mitch about Mara World and his place in it.

In other words, he didn’t have a place.

My dedication to this task took an instant and direct hit when I cleared the mouth of the hall and saw Mitch standing at the edge of his bar wearing an espresso-colored tailored shirt that looked hot on him, a matching espresso-colored sports jacket over it that also looked hot on him, a fabulous, dark brown belt and somewhat faded jeans that definitely looked hot on him. His head was tipped back and he was taking a slug from a bottle of beer while I lamented the fact that I was in his bathroom getting ready while he was in his bedroom changing clothes. Therefore, I’d missed seeing his gorgeousness (and thus would have been prepared to see his returned gorgeousness) before he’d left to take the kids to his sister’s.

Instead, I was thunderstruck by just how beautiful he was from top-to-toe.

His eyes slid around the beer, his chin tipped down and I absorbed my second direct hit right after my first when his beer hand dropped and his dark brown eyes went from warm to scorching in a nanosecond.

“Jesus,” he muttered.

I stopped four feet away, pulled myself together and announced, “Mitch, we have to talk.”

It was like I didn’t even speak. He set the beer aside as his burning gaze traveled me top-to-toe and back again, slowing on occasion but roaming me randomly, lazily and it made me feel a kind of funny I’d never felt before. A beautiful kind of funny. A kind of funny I’d not even felt when I was in his arms so, obviously, it was a seriously beautiful kind of funny.

“Jesus,” he murmured again.

“Mitch, did you hear me?” I asked, powering past that beautiful funny feeling.

His eyes finally moved to mine.

“Come here, baby,” he ordered in his gentle voice but this one had an additional rumble that felt like a physical thing. A warm, sweet, infinitely sexy physical thing.

Another direct hit.

“Mitch, I asked if you heard me.”

“Come here,” he repeated.

“We need to talk,” I said quietly.

“You need to talk, we’ll talk at dinner,” he returned. “Right now I need you to come here.”

“Mitch –” I started and he moved.

He lunged, reached out a hand, his fingers wrapping around my wrist. He lunged back and I went flying forward, colliding with his body and his arms clamped around me.