Come Back for You: Boys of Alabama Page 7

  She nods her head in agreement, chewing on my words for a minute. “It’s still hard for me not to be angry at you. Angry at you for leaving, angry at you for stayin’ gone as long as you did. But I’m tryin’.”

  “I know you are, sugar,” I say, draining the rest of my coffee and tossing it in the trash can next to us. I stand and pull her up to me, pressing a kiss to the tip of her nose. “Let’s go home.”

  Whitley

  “Whitley! This food is dying in the window, come the fuck on!” Kolby shouts from the kitchen and I swear on my gramma’s grave that I’m going to drag him across that food window and pummel him to death.

  I grab the food from the window, slamming my hand down on the bell repeatedly, earning me the kitchen’s full attention.

  “Y’all are gonna listen, and you’re gonna listen good. This ticket has a table number on it. If the food is ‘dying in the window’,” I narrow my eyes at Kolby and he grins, “then maybe, just MAYBE, you could fuckin’ run it for me!” I spin on my heels and march the plates over to table nine. I’m back behind the bar, pouring a Jack and Coke, when the door opens and Ford and Lex stride in, hand and hand.

  It has been a wild month and a half. Let me catch you up. First, Ford’s student and babysitter, Sophie, had a psychotic break, broke into Lex’s house and was waiting on her when she got home. She drugged and attacked Lex, claiming she’s in love with Ford, and Lex was just in the way. Lex got away, thankfully, but Sophie was nowhere to be found when the police went looking for her. Fast forward a few weeks, Lex is kidnapped by her then-still-husband, Jason Crenshaw. He had Sophie the entire time, waiting for the moment he could use her as leverage to get Lex to go with him, and that’s just what he did. He drove her upstate a few hours and eventually Ford and his brother, Zander, were able to find where he was holding her, go there and kill Jason, but not before Jason got a shot off at Ford. That was touch and go and we weren’t sure he’d pull through.

  But he woke up, proposed, and now the two lovebirds are seated in front of me. I pour them both a draft and drop the glasses in front of them.

  “So, when’s the wedding?” Jim-Billy asks from his seat three stools down.

  “We haven’t set a date yet,” Lex says, staring dreamily into Ford's eyes.

  “We’re in no rush. I’m just happy she agreed to spend the rest of her life putting up with my shit.” Ford says, grabbing Lex by the back of her neck and pressing a kiss to her lips.

  “Barf.” Jim-Billy mutters and I crack up.

  “Speaking of ‘spending the rest of your life’ with someone, where’s Deeeaaan?” Lex singsongs and I roll my eyes. We may be best friends but I’m not above hitting her.

  “He’s in the office doin’ payroll.” And I know that, because twenty minutes ago he was in the office doing me. I swear, I will never get enough of that man. I never thought I’d like dirty sex, but when he had me bent over the sink in the bathroom off of the office and he was pullin’ my hair and slapping my ass, I was so out of my mind with want that I thought I’d die before he let me come. A shiver works its way through my body.

  “There’s the man himself!” Ford calls out and I spin, ready to say something sassy, when I see the look on Dean’s face. Devastation and pain are etched all over it.

  “Baby, what’s wrong?” I ask him when he hits the bar, staring at the phone in his hand. He drags his eyes from it to me and swallows.

  “I just got off the phone with some lawyer in Colorado,” his voice cracks, “Jim’s dead.”

  ****

  Colorado is beautiful. Mountains as far as the eye can see, jutting out across the landscape. The sun peeking up between them, casting shades of orange and yellow across the open land. It’s early, around seven a.m., and we drove all day to get here, leaving early yesterday morning. Once I was able to get Dean to tell me exactly what was going on, we packed our bags, closed the bar, and dropped Ranger off to Ford and Lex.

  Apparently, Jim, the owner of the bar that Dean worked at before he came back, died peacefully in his sleep three nights ago. He had recently updated his will and had given the lawyer strict instructions that if anything happened, he was to contact Dean immediately.

  “I should have called him,” he says, his voice monotone as he stares out the passenger side window, the countryside flying by. “I was going to, last week, but a vendor showed up and needed me to sign off on an order, and I fuckin’ forgot.” His voice cracks again. Dean’s dad was never around and from what I can tell, this Jim guy meant a lot to him.

  “I’m so sorry, honey,” I say, dropping my hand to his knee and squeezing. He shoots me a sad smile, lacing his fingers with mine and bringing my hand up to his mouth.

  “Thank you,” he says, pressing a kiss to fingers, “for dropping everything to come with me.”

  “Of course. I’d do anything for you, Dean. You know that.” At least, I hope he knows that. I’m head over heels in love with him, and it’s better than it was when we were kids. I slow the car as we approach the bar and pull into the parking lot, parking next to a Cadillac Escalade. We drag ourselves out of the car, stretching. The hours of being cooped up in the car taking its toll on our bodies. Dean tags my hand while we walk to the front of the bar. The door swings open and we are met by a man with salt and pepper hair. He’s tall, but not as tall as Dean. Broad shoulders, you can tell he works out and he’s noticeably older than the both of us.

  “Dean,” his deep voice rumbles, extending his hand as Dean shakes it.

  “Slim,” Dean greets him, “this is my girlfriend, Whitley.” This man, Slim, shakes my hand and gives me a small smile.

  “Wish we were meeting under different circumstances, but it’s a pleasure to meet ya,” he says, ushering the both of us inside. It’s dark and musty inside and you can tell it’s a biker bar. There are some dart games at the back of the bar, pool tables, and different Motorcycle cuts hanging on the walls. Dean steers me over to the bar where he pulls a stool out for me, helping me up, and then settling himself next to me. Slim makes his way behind the bar, grabbing some papers from the open briefcase in front of him.

  “I’ll try not to take up too much of your time. Jim came to me about a month ago, wanting to update his will. Damn good thing he did, considering the situation we are in now. I’m sure you’re aware that he had no living relatives?” Slim asks Dean.

  “I knew his wife and son had died a long time ago, but I just assumed he had at least some family left,” Dean says, his hands gripping the countertop.

  “He was an only child. His parents, also only children. They died a handful of years back and no other family to be found.” He arranges a few papers in front of Dean and continues talking. “The updated will leaves everything to you,” and my breath catches in my throat.

  “What?” Dean grits out, his eyes scanning the documents in front of him, which look to be a deed to the house and the bar.

  “Everything. The bar, the house, all his savings. All yours,” Slim says, placing a pen in front of Dean. “Jim’s estate, with everything included, is worth around three million dollars.”

  “Holy shit,” I breathe out, glancing at Dean who looks completely shocked. “Honey, you had no clue?” He shakes his head.

  “No. None. He gave me a letter before I left, told me not to open it until I was settled. I forgot about it until I found it about a month ago. I was going to call him, but I got busy and it slipped my mind. There was a check inside for ten k. I was going to tell him there was no way I could cash it, that I couldn’t accept that from him.” He looks at Slim. “I’m the only one named in the will?”

  Slim nods his head. “Yessir. He insisted, when he updated it, that it all went to you and only you. Said you were the son he missed out on having because his was taken from him.”

  “Jesus,” Dean gruffs out, scrubbing his hands over his face.

  Slim hands him a couple of envelopes and some more paperwork.

  “I need you to sign here,” he directs a
nd Dean signs, blindly, “and here. This is the paperwork on where his ashes are. He didn’t want a ceremony, just asked that his body be cremated, and I’ve already taken care of that. You can pick his remains up anytime at the funeral home in town.” Slim starts packing his briefcase up and pulls a set of keys out of his pocket, dropping them on the counter. “Send my secretary your bank information. I’ll handle the transfer of funds.” He says his goodbyes and he’s out the door, it shuts with a resounding thud behind him. Dean and I are both quiet for a long time. He finally pulls away, but not before kissing me, and heads behind the bar, pouring us both a shot of whiskey. He slides mine to me with a beer chaser and downs his shot.

  “Why would he leave me all of it?” He asks, his eyes moving around the bar.

  “Because he loved you. And you meant somethin’ to him. And this was his way of sayin’ ‘thank you’.” I say, honestly. I know just from the way Dean has talked about this bar and that time in his life that Jim meant something to him, too. He makes his way around the bar to me, settling himself between my open legs where I sit on the stool, and he drops his head to my shoulder and cries, and we stay like that for a long while.

  Dean

  Pressing brew on the coffee pot, I drag a cup out of the cupboard above it and settle myself against the counter, staring out the window at the valley below. Jim’s house sits on a bluff that butts out and overlooks the valley below. It had to have cost a mint, just for the view alone. I think back on the shit that transpired over the last few days.

  The call about Jim, the drive to Colorado. My meeting with Slim. Whitley by my side through it all. After we locked the bar up last night, we drove to Jim’s. It didn’t make sense to rent a hotel room when the house was just sitting here, empty. We tumbled into the guest bedroom where we made love for hours. She has been my rock throughout this, which makes me love her even more. The coffee pot beeps, letting me know it’s finished brewing. Once I’ve poured myself a cup, I drag myself out to the patio.

  I’m not sure how long I’ve been sitting there when the patio door slides open and Whit’s crawling into my lap. I open my arms and she curls up against me, staring off into the distance.

  “Woke up and you were gone,” she says, snuggling closer. I run my hand down her back and press a kiss to her temple.

  “I love you.” I say, tired of not telling her how I feel. If the last few days have taught me anything it’s that shit can change in an instant, and I don’t want to go any longer without her knowing. Her body stills and she pulls back, her eyes wide, flicking back and forth between mine.

  “You’re sure?” She whispers, and I chuckle.

  “Never been more sure of anything in my life. There isn’t one person in this world that I want more than you.” I thread my fingers through her hair, pulling her lips to mine. She sighs against my lips, and I use that as an opening to dip my tongue into her mouth, tasting. Taking. Showing her how much she means to me without words. We never needed words, not even back then. She showed me how much she loved me each time she kissed me. Each time she climbed into the bed of my truck with me and I laid her down, worshipping her body until she had to be home for curfew. Back then we were young and reckless. We had the teenage pregnancy to show for it.

  But now, now we’re older. Wiser. We’ve spent time apart, had other lovers. Me more than her, but for me she’s always been it.

  She breaks our kiss and presses her forehead to mine. “I could live a thousand lives, and each one of them I’d still choose you,” she confesses, lifting off my lap and dropping to her knees. Her eyes flick up to mine as she tugs at my sweatpants and I lift my ass, my pants freeing my cock. It juts out at attention and she leans forward, snaking her tongue out to taste me. Hissing in a breath, my hips leave the chair on their own accord.

  “Fuckkk, Whit.” She grins at me, wickedly, before taking my full length in her mouth and practically swallowing my cock. She works her head up and down, sucking and licking.

  “You were always so good at sucking my dick,” I say, wrapping her hair around my hand and tilting her head so she’s looking at me. Her eyes are hooded, my cock still in her mouth. I hold her head still as I thrust up into her mouth and her eyes widen before rolling back in her head. “You used to get off on it, too. Do you still get off on sucking my cock, Whitley Jean?” I ask, and she rubs her thighs together and moans around my shaft. I yank her mouth off me. “Stand up,” I command, and she scrambles to her feet. “Lose the fuckin’ shirt,” she drags it up and over her head immediately, revealing her naked body, sans panties, her thighs wet from the moisture pooling from her hot cunt. I shuck my pants the rest of the way off. “Turn the fuck around and sit on my lap.” She turns and grabs hold of the table in front of us and positions herself backwards on me, one knee on either side of my lap.

  I steady her hips as she lowers herself down on my cock. She moans as she drops down, letting me fill her completely before she slides back up my shaft. I lean forward and drag the table closer, pressing on her back so she’s plastered against it but still fucking me. I spread her ass cheeks with my hands, that puckered hole taunting me. I lean down and tongue it, making sure it’s wet.

  I drag my hand across her cheek, circling my pinkie around the hole. “Do you think you’re ready for this?” I ask and she responds with a whimper, grinding her pussy harder against my cock. I suck my pinky into my mouth, making sure it’s wet enough to slide in. “Deep breath, baby.” I say, and as soon as she inhales, I slide my pinky inside her tight ass. Her body tenses.

  “Relax,” I murmur, sliding my free hand to her clit, and strum my fingers against it. She shudders but relaxes her body. “Good girl,” I praise her and thrust my hips. This fucking woman. “You’re always so eager to please aren’t you baby?” I ask, sliding my pinky in further while I pinch her clit. “I need words, Whit,” I grit out and she cries out in pleasure.

  “Y-y-yes,” she stutters, swiveling her hips and pressing her ass against my hand, begging for more, “please Dean, please fuck me.” She begs and I come the fuck undone. Standing, I kick my chair backwards and it clatters against the wall of the house. Whit’s feet hit the ground, but I flip her over on the table and slam back inside of her. The table scrapes along the patio as I fuck her, her feet flat against the table, legs spread wide as I chase my orgasm.

  Leaning over her body, I graze my teeth along her neck as she meets me thrust for thrust. Her hand snakes down her body, finding her clit, and I lean back, watching her play with herself while I fuck her.

  “Dean, dean, dean,” she chants and her body tenses, her orgasm rolling through her. I slam into her one more time before my release hits me and I come inside of her, her name a prayer on my lips, and I know in that moment, there’s nothing I won’t do to keep this woman.

  Whitley

  Tossing my suitcase in the trunk, I slam it shut and round the car to where Dean’s standing.

  “You sure you’re okay with this?” Dean asks, pulling me in for a hug and resting his chin on top of my head. I wrap my arms around him and squeeze.

  I’ve been in Colorado with him for about four days but one of us has to get back to Alabama and run the bar and take care of Ranger. There is still so much to be done here before Dean can come home. He needs to decide if he wants to sell the house and figure out what to do with the bar. We’ve spent days going through Jim’s things, tossing some, keeping others. I don’t want to leave Dean, but one of us has to go home.

  Home. His house because I can’t keep Ranger at my apartment. It’s too small and that wouldn’t be fair to him, plus the landlord doesn’t allow pets. Dean all but demanded that I stay at the farmhouse.

  “Positive,” I say, exhaling and releasing him. He tips my chin up and kisses me sweetly.

  “I love you. Thank you for helping me with all of this and for takin’ care of Ranger.” He drags me to him by my belt loop and presses another kiss to my lips. “Now go on, get outta here.” He shoots me a sad smile. He’s still
heartbroken over the loss of Jim and I think this time alone will help him heal.

  “I love you too.” He grins at my words and helps me into the car. I give one last wave and back out of the driveway and away from him, leaving my heart in Colorado.

  2 weeks later

  “Oof!” Ranger lands on me with a thump. “God ya heifer, get off me.” I groan and shove him off me and he rolls over, demanding I rub his belly. The thump thump of his tail lets me know he appreciates the attention. My cell rings from the coffee table and I abandon my doggie duties to answer it.

  “Hey,” I breathe out, not needing to check the caller ID. It’s Dean. He calls every night after the bar closes.

  “Fuck, I miss you,” he rasps over the phone and my tummy flip flops like it always does when I hear his voice.

  “I miss you, too,” I tell him truthfully because I do. This distance is killing me. He’s still in Colorado and I’m still in Monroeville, running the bar and taking care of Ranger. That in itself is a full-time job. This little guy is a lot of work. The dog chooses that moment to go lay on his doggy bed, finally worn out from all the shenanigans he’s had today.

  “How was your shift?” He asks as I go about setting the alarm and turning all the lights off downstairs.

  “Good. Busy, but good. Think we might have to hire another bartender if business keeps on like it’s been,” he yawns audibly over the phone, “honey if you’re tired, go to sleep.” I put it on speaker as I strip out of my clothes and climb into bed.

  “And miss out on my favorite part of the day? Never.”