Refuge for Flora by Deanndra Hall

Chapter 5

There had to be a way.It took Flora a couple of days, but she figured it out.

She knew what Barrett had said about not going anywhere alone, but she had something she had to do. Once she’d gotten Mrs. Murphy finished with lunch and napping, she took the Buick and headed to the shelter. She wanted to call first, but she didn’t have the number. It was hard to believe she hadn’t written it down, but it was nowhere to be found.

After she parked out front, she climbed the big concrete steps up to the front door and rang the bell. The door opened just a crack and a pale face peered through it. “Yes?”

“Hi. I’m Flora. I stayed here for a few days. Is Janet here?”

“Hang on.” The door closed and Flora stood there, not quite sure what to do.

Then the door opened wide and the woman smiled at her. “Flora! What on earth are you doing here?”

“I needed some help with something, and I knew you’d know what to do.”

“Well, okay. I’m not sure I’ll know, but I’ll sure try!”

“Great. Oh, and sorry I didn’t call first,” Flora said as Janet led her into the living room. “I looked and looked, but I couldn’t find the number.”

“That’s okay. So what can I help you with?”

“I need an email address, but something nobody can track to this area. Is there such a thing?”

“Sure is. I can help you with that. There’s this thing called DMail. Short for Direct Mail. They have a browser and everything. We can set up an email account for you with them and no one will be able to track your emails to your location.”

“That’s exactly what I need.”

“They’re going to ask for some kind of location though.”

“I’ll just use Pikeville. That’s where they are, so that’ll completely throw them off. I mean, I don’t think they’re computer savvy enough to know how to track me down anyway, but it doesn’t hurt to be careful.”

“No, it does not. So let’s get on this and see what we can do. Come on.” Flora followed Janet to the den in the house and they sat down at the computer there. “Know what you’d like to use as your I.D.?”

“Yep.” Flora tore a piece off a notepad lying there and wrote Flora_the_Explorer.

“Very cute! Okay. We’ll set it up, and then we’ll turn off the location.”

Thirty minutes later, there was an account set up for her, and she had notes on how to log on, how to send an email, how to reset her password―which was gatorbait8―and she was in business. She thanked Janet and headed to the car, then decided to stop on the way and get a milkshake.

As soon as she’d finished the milkshake in the parking lot of the public library, she headed inside. If someone managed to find a way to track her, she didn’t want to lead them to the women’s shelter. But the public library would be an okay space. After she’d put in a request to use a computer, she wandered in the stacks. It occurred to her that she might be able to get a library card, so she visited the front desk. She stood for a minute, thinking about how she really didn’t want anyone to see her driver’s license. “All I’ve got is my Social Security card,” she told the woman working there.

“That’ll work.” The lady took her card and her information, and in seconds, she had a library card. She still had twenty minutes before her allotted time to use the computer, so she headed back toward the stacks. There was a rack of new releases and one of current best-sellers, and she browsed them until she found two that sounded promising. One of the windows in the building had an upholstered chair sitting in front of it, so she took a seat and thumbed through the books.

When it was time to use the computer, she checked in at the desk and they gave her the information to let her log in. Once she was in, she brought up the browser from the company that did DMail and wandered around in cyberland until she found the website she was looking for. She took their email address, then logged into her email account. There was a place to click “Compose,” so she did and got a new email form. With the email address she’d gotten from the website, she typed in the subject line, “Family,” and then went on to the body copy.

Dear Mr. Banks or whoever gets this,

I’m looking for Rissa Allen. I’m her cousin, and I’ve always called her Wavy. I’ve moved away and lost her number and email address. Could you please have her contact me at this email address? I’d really appreciate it.

Skeeter

Using the old nicknames they’d given each other made her smile. She could still see Rissa sitting on the curb at their grandparents’ house, eating a popsicle she’d gotten from the ice cream truck that came by on sunny summer afternoons. She, Rissa, Ronnie, Paula, and Rissa’s older brother, Jake, had gone to the public pool down by the park during the summer too. She’d given Rissa the nickname Wavy because the girl worked for hours to straighten her hair, but the minute it got the least bit damp, it kinked up like a nylon pot scrubber. She knew Mr. Banks who owned the grocery store, and Rissa had worked there since she was in high school. If she was still working there, and she had been a few months earlier, then maybe he’d give her the message and she’d check in with Flora. It was the only hope she had of finding out what was going on in Pikeville, if anything.

The worst part was that once she left the library, she’d have no way to monitor the account. Her phone wasn’t a smartphone, and she couldn’t afford one. She might be able to in a few months, but not right then. With only thirty minutes to use the computer, the likelihood that Rissa would contact her before she had to leave was very slim. And when they came around to tell her she had to log off, she was sad. It wasn’t like she could come there every day.

Flora carried the two books she’d borrowed to the car and headed back to Mrs. Murphy’s. Was there a chance the old woman would put in an internet connection? She couldn’t imagine Mrs. Murphy doing that, but she planned to ask anyway. There was nowhere else for her to check on it.

Except Barrett’s. She could go down there. He’d told her that he’d be home every night that week, so that could work. If he hadn’t wanted her company, he wouldn’t have told her that, right? She remembered that he’d said he could fix them dinner if he knew ahead of time, but with Mrs. Murphy to watch after, she’d just have to wait until she got a spare minute to get away. At that very moment, she needed to get back and get dinner started. She’d just set the account up that afternoon, so she didn’t think she’d need to check it until at least the next evening. Or possibly the next. But one thing was for sure.

She needed to know where that asshole was. If Rissa didn’t know, she could find out, and she’d never give Flora up. There were few people she felt she could trust, but Rissa was one of them. And Barrett was another.

* * *

He kept hopingFlora would call or send him a text and tell him she was on her way down to his house, but she hadn’t. It had been a couple of days, and he really wanted to see her. He’d called her every night and they’d chatted, but nothing else. It would’ve been nice if she’d said she missed him or wanted to see him, but so far, that hadn’t happened either. The conversation had been benign, and he was trying to figure out a way to move things forward without seeming pushy.

Thursday had been particularly brutal―animal control had called them to open an investigation on seventeen raccoons that appeared to have been poisoned―and he was just glad to be home. He’d no more than showered and put on some lounge pants and a tee when the front door opened. “Hey! Brought burgers!” Jesse sang out.

Jesus. I really don’t want to do this tonight, Barrett’s brain whined. “That’s really nice. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

Try to be human, he told himself. “So, how’s work?”

“Good. Getting a raise next week. Boss called me in and says he likes my work. But damn, it’s starting to get really hot in the shop.”

“One of the downfalls of working in a machine shop, I suppose.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Jesse bit into a burger and chewed thoughtfully. “Although it beats bringing work home with me every night or having to work over. We never work over.”

“True. I kinda live my job.”

“That’s the kind of job you have. But I know you. You love it, and you wouldn’t be happy doing anything else.”

Barrett shrugged. “Probably not.”

“After dinner, you wanna play cards or something?”

What I really want is for you to go home. But he couldn’t say that. He could hear Kirby in his head. “Quarles, that’s your problem. You’re just too nice.” Yeah. Maybe that’s true. Thing was, he wasn’t sure he wanted to be not nice. But he sure wished Jesse would stay at his own home. He heard a voice and asked, “What?”

“I said, why don’t you ever come to my place? Where were you? It was like you were a million miles away,” Jesse said and picked up a French fry.

“Oh, sorry. Thinking. I guess it’s because once I get home, I’m really not interested in going out anywhere. I’d just as soon be here where I can relax.”

“You could relax at my place.”

He was about to say something that might not have been translated as nice when there was a tap on the door. It was so soft that he wasn’t sure if it was actually a knock, but Jesse instantly pivoted toward him. “You expecting anybody?”

He remembered Jonas, one of the other officers, saying he might stop by. “Maybe.” Cup in hand, he wandered over to the door and slung it open. And he almost dropped the cup. “Flora!”

“Hi. You said come by sometime, so I thought …” She stopped. “Oh. You already have company.”

“Yeah. This is my … friend, Jesse. Jess, this is Flora. She’s Mrs. Murphy’s caregiver during the day.”

“Hey. Nice to meet you,” the man said, and Barrett noticed the way Flora was eyeing Jesse. There were going to be questions. He could feel it.

“Same here.” She pointed back over her shoulder “I’ll just―”

“No, no! You’re welcome to stay! Please! Come on in.” Barrett took a step back from the doorway and swept an arm inward.

“If you’re sure … Hey, do I know you from somewhere?”

“I really doubt it.” Jesse stood and stretched. “I’ve gotta go anyway. Work in the morning and all.”

Flora blushed deeply and Barrett was troubled that she’d been embarrassed needlessly. “No, really, please don’t feel like you have to leave because of―”

“No, seriously. I need to get some sleep.” Jesse gathered up the empty fast-food trash and carried all of it to the trash can in the kitchen, then made his way to the front door. “So I’ll see you later, bud.”

“Yeah. Later.” As he left, he hugged Barrett. From where they stood, Barrett could see Flora’s face, and the only way he could interpret her expression was uncomfortable. Could she tell he and Jesse were more than friends? Or at least had been?

Barrett stood in the doorway and watched Jesse go before he closed the door and turned his attention to his guest. “Hey, want something to drink?”

“I’m sorry I just showed up on your doorstep. I saw the car but I’d already walked down here. I mean, I can―”

“No! I’m happy you did! Now, drink?”

“Just a plain soda will be fine.”

“Comin’ up.” He grabbed one from the refrigerator and popped it open before handing it to her.

“Thanks.” She took a sip and sat there. Barrett recognized the body language―she was drawing in on herself. “So, you and Jesse been friends long? Wait … That’s none of my business,” she said, staring at her hands as they clutched the aluminum can.

There was no easy way to explain it, so he decided to just dive right in. After all, that was one of the things Zyan had said he needed to do. “I know you’re curious about Jesse now. I can understand that.”

“What? No. I’m not. It’s none of my business.”

“It’s not what you think.”

“I’m not thinking anything.”

“Yes, you are. So let me assure you, I’m not gay.”

She nodded, but she didn’t seem convinced. “So bi?”

“Nope. Not even bi.”

“Really, Barrett, it’s none of my―”

“Jesse’s name hasn’t always been Jesse.” Flora’s head popped up and she stared at him. Yeah, I knew that would get your attention, he thought, and he would’ve laughed if it hadn’t been so damn sad. Instead of speaking again, he got up and took the few steps to the bookcase under the front window. The photo album he retrieved was white with gold gilt letters, and he handed it to her. “Open it up.”

“What is this?”

“Just open it.”

He watched as she flipped open the cover and stared at the first page before turning to another one. “Your wedding pictures?”

“Yeah.”

“Jessica, right?”

“Yep.”

“I thought you said you were divorced.”

“I am. She’s not dead. She just ceased to exist.”

“You told me something like that before.” Two green eyes bored into him. “Ceased to exist? How did she just cease to exist?”

Life was complicated and messy sometimes, and he didn’t know how to explain it, so he just said, “Jesse.”

“Jesse took her and you’re friends with him?”

“No, Flora. Jesse is Jessica. Jessica became Jesse.”

The knit of her brows and frown told him she didn’t understand. Inside his head, he heard the countdown: Five, four, three, two …

“Holy shit.”

And there it is.“Yeah.”

“But I thought you were divorced.”

“We are.”

“Then why is she, uh, he in your house?”

“We’re still friends.”

Flora sat there, and he could tell she was having trouble with the idea. “So you’re still friends with your ex-wife who isn’t a woman anymore. Am I getting this right so far?”

“Yeah.”

“So you’re still friends with her. Him. If you’re such good friends, why did you divorce?”

She was sitting in the chair, so he took a seat on the end of the sofa closest to her. “She wanted to stay married, but I just couldn’t. I’m not gay. I’m not even bi. I tried to think it through, but in the end, all I could think of was chicks with dicks. I mean, I have no problem with trans people, but I couldn’t figure out a way to be married to her if she wanted to be a he. I couldn’t make sense of it. I still love Jessica, but Jesse isn’t Jessica. Yeah, in some ways, but not in all ways. This was my wife. And when she had her top surgery, I … It was horrible for me. We were already separated, but I wanted to be there for her. I swear to god, I wanted to die when she showed me … It was like she was killing off the wife I loved a little at a time.”

“How long ago was that?”

“Three years.”

“If it’s so painful for you, why is he here? Hanging out?”

“Because we’re still friends. Because the person I fell in love with is still in there. I’ve tried to tell him he needs friends, needs to go out and meet people, that I can’t keep being his only friend. He didn’t want the divorce. I did. You know how trans people say they felt like they were in the wrong body?” Flora nodded. “Well, I felt like somebody took away the person I knew and handed them back in the wrong body. Maybe it’s easier for women. I’ve known at least two couples where the husband decided he was a woman and they went through the entire transition and stayed married. I’m not sure how that works. Maybe it’s that women can see the beauty in other women even if they’re not lesbians. But I’m sorry. A hairy chest does nothing for me. If I’d wanted to be married to a man, I would’ve married a man. I don’t. I’m not gay. I’m not bi. I’m straight, and I want a wife, not a husband. And from what he says, he wants a husband.” Just talking about it was unbearably painful. Watching Jessica become the happy person she wanted to be had brought him so much grief and so much loss that sometimes it was hard to breathe. “I’m happy for him. Really, I am. The whole time we were married, I knew something was wrong. She hated her body. Couldn’t find clothes she liked. Tried to hide her figure. I remember the day she came in and she’d cut all her hair off. I mean, buzzed it. I was horrified. She’d had this long, silky hair, and it was all gone. How was I so clueless? I don’t know. Maybe because I never dreamed that could be me, the guy who was left behind when the wife decided to become a man.”

A soft hand fell on his, and he realized he’d been bouncing his heel on the floor and clenching and unclenching his fists. Between the nervousness of speaking of the whole thing, the pent-up rage, and the sadness, it just happened without thinking about it. But her hands clasped his to keep them still and their eyes met. “You don’t blame yourself, do you? You know this has nothing to do with you, right?”

“I know. She, he, even said so, that it was all him, that it had nothing to do with me. At one point, she said she never should’ve married me because she knew there was something different about her but she didn’t know what. Do you know how much that hurt? To have the person you love tell you they never should’ve married you? It’s excruciating.”

“It has to be hard. I can’t even imagine.” She moved to sit beside him on the sofa, and he was glad. The heat radiating from her body was soothing to him. It had been a while since he’d been that close to a woman. “How do your folks feel about this? His folks?”

“My parents hate him for hurting me. His parents won’t even talk to him. That’s one of the reasons I haven’t completely pushed him away. He has no one but me.”

“Even though that’s unhealthy for you,” Flora pointed out.

“I know, but he … God, this is all so fucked up and crazy.” Naked and exposed. That was how he felt in that moment, the man whose wife had disappeared into a different body.

“Okay, look. Let’s think about this for a minute. Where does he work?”

“At one of the machine shops out the other side of town.”

“Has he always worked there?”

“No. After the surgeries, he went to the vocational school and got some training. Said he wanted to work a man’s job, whatever the fuck that is,” Barrett spat out.

“So he has a good job. Doesn’t he ever go out with the guys he works with?”

“No. About three nights a week, he’s at my doorstep.”

“I think you should stop letting him in.”

Barrett sat there for a minute. “But he’ll have nobody. What if he hurts himself, kills himself, because he lost me too?”

“You’re not responsible for him. He made this choice, and you need to make some choices that will keep you healthy. Barrett, you’re a really great guy. You deserve so much better than sitting around, playing besties with a man who used to be married to you as a woman. It’s fine to stay friends. It’s another thing entirely to be best friends, especially when it’s causing you this much pain.” Was she able to see it? It certainly seemed that way. “Barrett? Talk to me.”

His eyes sought hers out again, and he wanted to kiss her, to make love to her, to sleep beside her, to wake up next to her in the morning and give her a smile and a peck on the cheek. Instead, he clasped his hands together in fear, afraid that touching her would drive her away. “Flora, do you believe in coincidence?”

“No. I do not.”

“Neither do I. I think you were put in my life for a reason.”

She nodded. “And I think you were put in my life for a reason. Now it’s up to us to figure out what that reason is.”

A wave of need swept through him and he took her face in his hands. “I want to find out.” The instant their lips touched, Barrett felt whole again, every cell in his body shivering back to life. “I want you, Flora,” he whispered to her. “I need you.”

“I need you too.”

It would be the most courageous thing he’d done in three years. Barrett Leland Quarles was either going to set his world right or set it on fire. As soon as he could get her to the bed, he’d know which, but in the moment, he really didn’t give a shit. If it destroyed him … He couldn’t be more destroyed than he already was. When he stood and took her hand, she rose with him and let him lead her down the hallway.

“You can have this bathroom. I’ll go out to the bathroom in the hallway. If you need anything, just yell.”

The corners of those beautiful lips crept upward into a winsome smile. “I’m sure I’ll be okay in there.”

“Like I said, if you need something …”

“Got it. It’s okay, Barrett, really.” He turned to leave and heard her ask, “You do have condoms, right?”

“Yes.” A thought crossed his mind. “Of course, they’re so old that they may crumble.” Flora started to giggle and it made Barrett laugh. “I guess it’s possible! I mean, they expire, right?”

“They do! Guess you should probably check them!” Her giggles had turned to full-blown laughter.

“And if they’re expired, then what?”

“I haven’t been with anybody in a long time, Barrett.”

“I haven’t either.”

“Then I’m not really too worried about it.”

“Are you on the pill?” She shook her head. “Are you worried about that?”

“No.”

“I’m not either.” That struck him as just a little odd, being unworried about something like that, but for some reason, it didn’t seem important. “Okay then. We know where we stand. I’ll be back in a couple of minutes. Take the bathroom and do what you’ve gotta do.” He was still laughing as he left the bedroom.

But once his feet hit the tile floor, every wrong thought in his head began to surface. Why was he doing this? Was it really what he wanted? Or was it just to scratch an itch? Flora didn’t deserve that, to be somebody’s bandage, to be peeled off and cast away when their heart healed. He needed to know that she was okay, that she understood how broken he was. Didn’t he at least owe her that? Did he owe her anything? Was she using him like he was using her? Or was he using her?

The hallway was dark as he exited the bathroom, and the bedroom appeared to be. But when he drew closer, he could see something―the flicker of a candle. She’d found his lighter. Lying there in his bed, her hair fanned out over the pillow, she looked like some kind of ethereal apparition come to lie on his discount store sheets, and touching her seemed imperative. If he was dreaming and he woke, she’d be gone, but if he touched her, she’d be real. She was lying on her side, her back to him, and in her hand she held one of the photos from his nightstand. It was of him, his parents, and his sister, and it was on his sixteenth birthday. The room was silent, but somehow she sensed him there and turned. As soon as her eyes found his, she smiled.

Something in that sweet, uncomplicated expression sent a flood of memories into his mind, memories of what it was like to be loved―no, cherished―and he came to a realization years in the making. Jessica had never felt that way about him. She had never cherished him, never longed for him. Her lips moved, but he didn’t hear her. “I’m sorry. What?”

“Is this you? It looks like you.”

“Uh, yeah. That was on my birthday. My folks and my sister.”

“Pretty family. And you were a cute kid.” Something in the way she spoke the words told him she was somehow jealous. What she’d told him about her family hadn’t made them sound like people he’d want to know. Did they care even the tiniest bit about her?

“Thanks.” He wasn’t sure if she was undressed under the sheet, so he slipped off his boxer briefs and slid into the bed beside her. He’d wondered if she’d reach for him, but she didn’t. Those bright eyes just stayed right where they were, fixed on him, waiting.

Remembering to keep his hands soft and gentle wasn’t easy. Everything inside him wanted to push, to hurry, to reach that pinnacle. A flush spread across her chest as his hand palmed one breast, his thumb brushing back and forth across an already-hardened nipple to hear her moan. “Flora, I’m not playing with you.” When he caught her gaze, she seemed puzzled. “I mean, I don’t sleep around. This isn’t some game for me.”

“I’m glad. I don’t think I could survive that.”

That was the moment that Barrett realized the step he was about to take came with a huge responsibility. The woman in the bed with him had been used and abused and mistreated. She didn’t deserve that from anyone, and especially not someone who knew what she’d been through. But the trust in those eyes was overwhelming, and he found himself wanting to be that man, the one who sheltered her, who held her, who protected her, who offered her a refuge from the storms of life. The rock she could cling to. The rope she could tie around her to haul her back to safety. He wanted to be that man, the one who pulled her from the icy, choppy waters, wrapped her in a warm blanket, and took her to shore. He wanted to take it slow, but he just … couldn’t. She needed him, and he needed her just as much. “We’ll make it if we just stick together.”

There was that sweet, shy little smile he’d seen before. “Can you forget about the cheap, trashy, filthy thing that I am? I mean, you’re a nice guy, and you’ve got a good job, and I don’t even have a home, just living with Mrs. Murphy, and―”

He pressed a finger to her lips to quiet her. “There are a lot of things you are, but cheap, trashy, and filthy? None of those. And don’t say you don’t have a home. If I’m anywhere near, you’ll always have a home. You’ve come home, Flora. I know you don’t know much about this area and you haven’t seen a lot of it, but these people, they’ll be here for you and help you. And as long as you want me, I’ll never be far away.”

“I’ll always want you,” she whispered, and a tear rolled from the outside corner of her eye into the hair at her temple.

For the first time in three years, Barrett let himself feel. He felt her hands on his shoulders, on his back, wrapped around his ribcage. He felt her eyelashes brush his cheek and her lips brush the side of his neck. The warmth and softness of her body clung to him, and he wanted more than anything to never turn loose of her. He only fumbled with the condom for a few seconds, and then he froze. Regardless of what she said about herself, he saw her as unspoiled, unsullied, a woman who’d never been loved, just used. He never, never wanted her to feel that way again. As he sank his hardness into her, he watched her face, the way she bit her lip, and felt the sharpness of her nails as she gripped his biceps.

But when he reached down between their bodies and began to stroke, he watched her belly tense and her back arch. Her hands left his shoulders and pressed palms-first into the headboard. She made noises, sweet, sexy little noises, and they turned him on in ways he’d never known before. “Barrett, Barrett, oh … Barrett, god, what … Yeah, just like that. You know what you’re doing, don’t you?”

“I like to think so,” he whispered to her and nipped the side of her neck. All it took was a pinch of her nipple from his free hand and she rocked into her climax, a low, guttural groan coming from deep in her throat. “That’s it. Yeah. Damn, you feel so good around me, babe.” His finger stopped stroking her and she smiled. “Yeah?”

She nodded. “Yeah.” He planted a hand on the mattress on either side of her shoulders, and she gripped his forearms. “Yeah. Please?”

Her hips rose with his every stroke, and he was in heaven. Jessica had been only mildly interested, but this woman was excitingly enthusiastic. She wanted him, and her every movement was intended to show him how much she wanted him. To be with a woman who really wanted to be with him that way was priceless for Barrett. She could never understand what it meant to him.

He needed it to last longer, a lot longer, but he’d been too long without and his body wanted it more than he did. All he really wanted was for her to come again, and with a little encouragement, she got there. But it pushed him over the edge, and he was done, that little sheath of latex filled to bursting. He lowered his weight onto her and wrapped his arms around her, his hands wandering downward and cupping her ass. She shuddered as his lips moved against the side of her neck and he whispered, “Mine.”

“Barrett?”

“Yeah, babe?”

“I feel like I’m suffocating.”

“Oh. Sorry.” He rolled off, but she rolled with him, and they stilled with her in his arms. “Better?”

“Much. That was … No man has ever made me feel that way. It almost felt like you lo … care about me.”

“I do. I can’t say those three little words yet, and I don’t expect you to either. But I want to, and I want it to be with you.”

There was a painful honesty in her voice when she asked, “Why?”

“Because you’re a fighter. You’re a survivor. You have no idea how much I respect that.”

“I just do what I have to do.”

“Yes, but you do. A lot of women would just give up, but you haven’t. And I respect that greatly. But you need to know, I’ve …” The words were hard to say, and he struggled for a bit until he managed. “I’ve questioned myself, my manhood, a lot over the last three years. I wondered if everything happened because I wasn’t enough of a man, if I wasn’t strong enough, or sexy enough, or …”

“Stop.”

“No. Please. Just listen to me.”

“But you know none of that was you, Barrett. You know that.”

“I know it in here,” he said, tapping his head, “but not always in here.” He patted his chest. “And you? The way you responded to me? I know it wasn’t me. I’m okay. I always have been. I questioned myself, and I shouldn’t have. Hell, Jessica … Jesse told me not to, but I did anyway. You know, if I had been more this or more that, wouldn’t he have wanted to stay a she? To stay with me? To be my wife? But I know that isn’t reality. In reality, this was something that was with him from the time he was born.”

“Yeah, and something about you made him feel like he could be strong enough to do what he had to do. That’s a testimony to your integrity and your ability to be kind and loving to people around you.” Her hand stroked down his chest and rested lightly on his belly. “You’re an exceptional man. I can’t tell you how honored I feel to be here with you.”

Barrett pulled her up against him and kissed her forehead, his arms winding around her and holding her tightly. He gave her another sweet, lingering kiss, and kissed her forehead again before cuddling against her. “I’m honored to be here with you. I think we could be really good for each other.”

“I hope so.” She lay there for a few minutes, then sat straight up, those two perky breasts bouncing. “Oh, shit! What time is it?”

“I dunno. Nine?”

“Damn! I’ve gotta go see about Mrs. Murphy! Shit, shit, shit. I was hoping to use your computer, but I’ve really gotta go.”

“I was hoping you could spend the night.”

She shook her head as she pulled on her underwear and hooked her bra. “Not unless she’ll let you come down there and stay with me at her place. It’s my responsibility to make sure she’s okay.” With her clothes finally yanked on, she slipped her shoes on and smiled at him. “I wish I could stay here too. I really want to.”

“That’s okay. You can come back any time. You know that.”

Flora grinned. “Even if Jesse’s here?”

“Especially if Jesse’s here!” Barrett laughed as he sat on the bed and pulled on his boxer briefs. By the time he had his lounge pants on, she was already at the front door. “Hey! Wait!”

“I’ve gotta go! Come on!”

She had the front door open, but he grabbed her arm. “Wait. You can’t walk back by yourself in the dark. Let me get my keys and I’ll drive you down.” He thought she’d argue with him, but she didn’t, so he hustled up and slipped on a pair of shower shoes before he held the door open for her and led her to the truck, hand in hand.

It wasn’t far enough for them to have much of a conversation, but when he dropped his right hand onto the console, palm up, she placed hers firmly in it and his fingers closed around it. It felt right. He’d barely gotten the truck parked in the driveway before she was up on the seat on her knees, leaning over the console to kiss him. It surprised him, but in a good way. Her lips were soft and sweet and―BANG! BANG! BANG! In unison, they both yelled, “What the hell?”

Flora rolled the window down and there stood Mrs. Murphy, a cross look on her face. “What the fuck are y’all doin’ out here? You scared the hell outta me! I thought there was some damn trespasser out here fixin’ to tear up my stuff!”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Murphy. I didn’t mean to be late getting back.”

“Yeah, you can blame it on me,” Barrett added. “It’s my fault. We lost track of time. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, yeah. Next time y’all wanna do the horizontal bop, just come on down here so at least I’m not alone. But you can’t be loud. That’ll drive me crazy.”

Barrett was struggling to hold back laughter. “Well, okay then. I wondered if I would be welcome here.”

“You mow my fuckin’ grass. What am I gonna do, tell you to get the hell outta my house? Can’t hardly do that, now can I?” She turned and stomped off toward the house. “Damn young’uns. Can’t do nothin’ with ‘em these days.”

Flora started to chuckle. “Young’uns. It’s been a long time since anybody called me a young’un.”

“Me too!” Barrett finally had to laugh. “Well, if we wondered if it was okay for me to come down here, I guess we’ve got our answer!”

Flora was a breathless, laughing mess. “Yeah, and all because we were making out in the driveway. I feel like I’m seventeen again!”

“By the way, how old are you?”

“I’m thirty-four. How old are you?”

“Just had my fortieth birthday.”

“Then I guess we’re okay. You’re not robbing the cradle, and I won’t have to look for a home for you in the next two years.”

Barrett had managed to stop laughing, but he couldn’t wipe the smile from his face. “You’d better get inside. Give me one more kiss and I’ll see you … tomorrow maybe?”

The smile Flora returned was small and gentle. “I’d like that.” When she kissed him that time, he could’ve sworn he heard angels sing. “Okay. I’d better go,” she said as she broke the kiss. “She’ll be stomping around and making a fuss. So goodnight. Text me later?”

He nodded. “I will.”

“Okay. And thanks for bringing me back.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way. Bye, babe.”

“Bye!” From where he sat in the truck, it looked like she was almost skipping as she headed to the door, but as soon as she opened it, she turned and gave him a wave, so he waved back.

In five minutes, he was back in his house, door closed and locked. It was only nine thirty, but he really wanted to go to bed just so he could lie there in the sheets where they’d made love.

Yes―made love. That’s what they’d done. It had been amazing. Flora was everything he wanted in a woman. Question was, what would it take to keep Darryl away from her? He wasn’t sure, but he’d do it, whatever it was. Was there anything he wouldn’t do to keep Darryl away? Barrett thought about it for few seconds.

Nope. He was pretty sure there wasn’t.