My Protector by Flora Ferrari

Chapter Twenty-One

Dillon

“You’re fucking kidding me?” Chad asks, making like I’m the one fooling him when I explain the facts as I have them.

On a phone… Two phones if I include the video evidence.

Experience has proved to me that audio is so easily doctored, and never good enough evidence. But with visual and audio proof of my ex-business partner confessing to setting me up, fraud, and lying under oath to the IRS?

Plusthe Parole officer himself chortling along with him as they gamble my money between themselves in an illegal casino?

Fuck.

Even a blind man could see that there’s more than enough evidence for the case against me to be dropped.

Chad listens and says he can pull a few strings at the District Attorney’s department, maybe.

“But not all of the strings,” he stresses to me. “I’m just a fiddler, not the freakin’ conductor…

“If this goes too deep? You’re on your own pal, but I think the judge on your case is on the level… Shit. This thing could blow a fucking huge hole in the whole department. The whole fucking city…”

I smile at the thought, hoping it will, but I really only want my life back.

My business and my livelihood.

For Becky more than anything else.

For our future family.

“As long as I can just get a second chance. A proper second hearing, get the IRS to re-look at the facts,” I affirm, nodding as Chad grunts his own agreement.

“It won’t be an overnight thing, but if what you say you have is true…?”

He whistles through his teeth again to himself, promising to put everything I have in the right hands if I can just get it to him as soon as possible and without anyone else knowing.

My other pretty little problem instantly springs to mind as I hang up, happier for both suddenly.

My girl in the shower, only yards from me, wanting for food with a funny step in her walk.

I feel myself stiffening again at just the thought of her though.

Knowing she’s actually here, in our house now. It makes everything else seem stupid somehow.

But this is something I need to do, for us both as well as my own honor.

Sharing her with the outside world is painful enough. Having her out with other eyes on her.

Explaining myself and her to people, even trusted friends like Chad? That can wait for a different time and date.

Maybe a date when certain bells chime in a big tall building, and there’s the glint of gold rings between my woman and me.

I smile at the thought, then feel the familiar weight in my chest.

Not the thought of our life together, but kicking myself again for not telling her the one thing she needs to know.

Not just that she’s set for life, and I want her to carry our children, no.

The one thing I’ve never heard myself say to anyone.

How I actually fucking feel.

I wanted to join her in the shower this time, but vow to make sure I do just that the next time she showers.

I want to see her do everything from now on, not just smile and watch her eyes roll back as she creams on my fat dick.

I want to be a part of her life in every aspect.

Fixing us both breakfast is a good start, and she inquires about my little problem once she comes into the kitchen, but I only want Becky to think of the good things.

Simpler things, like a hot breakfast and a drive out to the country if she’s up for it.

She readily agrees, accepting I have the matter in hand. Even more so with her by my side.

Then tell her.

Fucking tell her…

I open my mouth, but I just can’t. Not yet.

A bit like the kissing thing. I know once I tell her how much I love her, how I really feel.

I know I’ll never be able to stop.

The toaster pops, bringing me back to reality and I fix her a plate of fresh bacon, poached eggs, toast, and avocado.

Her eyes grow wide as I slide the plate towards her, putting the cutlery into her hands myself and urging her to eat it while it’s hot.

“Something else on your mind?” she asks with that familiar sass in her voice making me smile.

Am I so transparent?

“Eat,” I command, turning to grin quietly to myself as I fix a plate of my own.

We eat and I have a quick solo shower, Becky insisting on doing some dishes to contribute as she calls it.

Ready to drop off my evidence copies to trusted sources, I ask if she really wants a drive in the country.

“I just thought I’d show you the lake,” I add. “I have a small cabin there, tiny really, but never had anyone to show it to,” I explain, feeling my face warm.

“I’d love to,” she pipes back, squeezing me tight and asking if I’m okay again.

But I’m not okay. I can’t be until she knows.

Until the whole world knows just how I feel about her.

I stifle a cough and growl with pleasure as her hands trace down to the front of my jeans, tugging at my zipper as she smiles.

“Does the cabin have a bed?” she asks, looking up and pouting innocently, making me smile even though I’m trying to be serious.

“It does,” I tell her, pulling her into me. Only holding her harder this time, letting my body press hard against hers as I stroke her hair, kissing the top of her head.

“We should go,” I finally rasp. Angry with myself for missing yet another chance to just tell her.

I feel her clutch at me as I move to go, her own way of catching my attention.

“I know you do,” she says knowingly, a little smile playing on her lips, letting me off the hook but driving another wedge into my chest.

Making me feel dumber by the minute for not just saying it.

Why can’t I just say it?

Because I’ve never actually loved anything or anyone so much in my whole life is why.

To say it out loud like I’m reading a grocery list sounds cheap. Tacky.

Like it has no real meaning, that’s fucking why.

But she’s mine now. Claimed. Mine.

I just need to settle this probation business… No woman of mine is gonna have a man with an ax swinging over his head…

The life I know we have waiting, the proof I need. The time to make it all happen without seeing a wrinkle on her sweet face. That’s why too.

I need to set things right, but I also need to spend more time with Becky. Show her I’m not all business and work.

The cabin by the lake is perfect, and I haven’t been there in ages.

Something else I have up my sleeve that even my thieving business partner never knew about.

“I’ll just drop off a few things on the way,” I tell her casually, happy when she shrugs. Eager to be doing something positive on our day off.

Lifting her into the truck, I feel her gasp in a different way.

I set her down in her seat and ask if she’s alright, noting her top teeth chewing at her lip again.

“I’m just grateful is all,” she sighs, looking at me dreamily, our eyes at the same level for once.

“But?” I add, avoiding my own obvious dilemma with her right now.

“But… I’m wondering if a truck is really a family car.” She grins, glancing at the single bench seat holding her belly with a knowing look.

As big as the interior of my truck is, I know what she means.

“Even with a baby seat…” she starts, but I finish for her.

No babies of ours will ride shotgun on a bench seat, baby seat or not.

“We can go shopping for something new anytime,” I tell her casually, glad when she sighs in relief.

Happier still to know my woman is as forward thinking as I am, even though it’s only been a few hours.

I know she’s carrying our baby. She’s already making her nest.

I love that.

I love her, and long before we get to the cabin after a drive through the woods.

Long before we stop for lunch where I quietly tell her just what I want to do to her over the railings of the old bed, the old stairs up there.

I press both my hands on her thighs, lean into the truck and kiss her gently before I hear myself finally say it so effortlessly because it’s so true.

“I love you, Becky. I love you more than anything, and I only wished I could have said it sooner.”

She smiles softly, lifting a hand to my face and stroking the chin I left unshaved.

“I know you do, Dillon. And I love you. But you don’t need to tell me if it makes you shy,” she says.

“I’m not shy,” I caution her, kissing her quickly again and growl those three words into her ear again before setting her into her seat, buckled up tight.

Knowing I can watch over her every minute of every day now, satisfied.

I. Love. You.

“It’s like the kissing thing,” I explain, smiling before I close the door and peck her just one more time on the lips.

“Once I start… I know I’ll never stop.”