“Yes,” she whispered, her eyes peering deep into his.
She was with him so he gave her the rest of it.
“I already know that family in there is better than the one I grew up in, honey,” he whispered back. “Money and status don’t mean shit. It’s character that means somethin’. My father doesn’t have that. Your father does, he married a woman who has it and together they built a family that has it. You’re nervous and twistin’ shit in that pretty head of yours to make you more nervous. Stop it. This is gonna be fine.”
“Okay,” she said quietly.
“Now you got a job ahead of you and that’s to try real hard not to be cute. When you’re cute, it makes me wanna kiss you in a way a deacon at a church, who still curses just not in front of his daughter, will not like. Since you’re cute all the time, this is gonna be hard for you. But I’m askin’ you to try.”
Her bubblegum lips twitched then she replied softly, “I’ll try.”
Staring at her mouth, he muttered, “And you’ll fail.”
“Chace –” she breathed and his eyes shot back to hers.
“You’re bein’ cute,” he warned.
Her ear dipped to her shoulder and her brows inched together.
Cute.
“I just said your name.”
“All it takes.”
Her head righted, her eyes went hooded, her lips parted and she gave him her look.
Then she gave him more cute and he was f**king thrilled to take it.
“Seriously,” she whispered, near reverent, beyond adorable, “you’re fraking awesome.”
He loved it that she felt that way.
And he hoped to Christ she always would.
Chace grinned before he used his hand to pull her close and dip her down so he could kiss her nose. They could have an audience but she was chewing gum. He tasted her, especially with the additional element of bubblemint, they wouldn’t head inside for fifteen minutes.
Then he pulled her back and stated, “Let’s go in.”
She nodded, started to move away and he let her go.
He waited for her to round the truck before he took her hand and guided her to the lit front door.
He’d been out this way on numerous occasions when he was in a cruiser on patrol and for a variety of business during his tenure at CPD. The road that led to the Goodknight house did not dead end at the hills west of town but meandered up them and through the mountains. There were ranches off that road, a couple of units of rental condos for residents and for vacationers and, higher up the mountain, a few large homes owned by wealthy residents or kept as second houses to wealthier non-residents. He’d long since known where the Goodknights lived mostly because, after he’d spotted Faye, he put that one with the one of their name on the mailbox on the street and got two so that house hit his radar.
Their house was split level and, by the look of it, built in the 70’s. Likely family room, dining room, kitchen and other common areas on the lower level, living room and bedrooms up top or vice versa. Seeing as from the road you couldn’t see an elevated deck leading off the upper level but instead a dug out patio leading from the lower one, he was guessing the family areas were down below.
As they made their approach, they were, surprisingly, not greeted at the door. Instead, Faye let them in without knocking and while Chace was closing the door to the March evening Colorado cold, she shouted, “We’re here!”
That was when it began. Something Chace thought he was prepared for.
Something, he was not.
A night in a normal, average family home with a normal, average family that was nutty, loud, opinionated but funny, immensely close and teasingly loving.
They were still standing on the stone tiled landing that had a half flight of stairs leading up to an open space living room to their left and a half flight leading down straight into a kitchen right in front of them. Upon Faye’s shout, two boys, her nephews, Jarot and Robbie, came racing up the steps. The older one had dark brown hair with a hint of red. The younger one had Faye’s hair.
He thought they were racing to greet their Aunt Faye but he would immediately discover they weren’t when they both came to rocking halts in front of him, tipped their heads back and spoke in unison… loudly.
“Show us your badge!” Jarot demanded on a shout.
“Gun!” Robbie screeched.
Apparently, it had been shared with the boys he was a cop.
“Um… can Detective Keaton show you his badge after you say hello to your Auntie Faye, I introduce you to Detective Keaton and maybe he gets a drink, sits down and relaxes?” Faye suggested in a practiced-sounding tone that was mixture of mild exasperation and “aren’t my nephews adorably naughty?”
“Right,” Jarot backed down, moving toward Faye and allowing her, with a soon-to-be nine year old’s obvious reluctance, to give him a short hug and an even shorter peck on the cheek.
“Gun!” Robbie repeated on a screech, ignoring his aunt completely.
“Robbie! Mind your manners!” a woman reproached and Chace’s eyes went to the stairs.
Chace had seen Faye in town with her sister, Sondra and Silas and it was her sister, Liza, who was approaching.
God had seen fit to grant Faye with her father’s unusual blue eyes and her mother’s unusual auburn hair. He’d seen fit to grant Liza Newman with her mother’s dark brown eyes and her father’s dark brown hair. Both were nice but Faye’s combination was a knockout while Liza’s was simply appealing.
That said, she was attractive but her hair was cut short. A style that she wore well and it suited her but it was something Chace did not often find appealing. She’d had two children but her ass and tits were less abundant than her sister’s on a frame that both women inherited from their mother. Same height, same tiny waist, body meant to be hourglass, not streamlined. This meant she took more than passing care of herself and therefore likely dieted. She didn’t look gaunt or in a bad mood because she needed a sandwich since she’d only had a protein bar between breakfast and now. But it wasn’t a look that Chace found appealing either.
Last, Faye was wearing a little jeans skirt through the belt loops of which she’d threaded a bright scarf that she’d tied off to one side in a bow. Up top, she had on a dark green, lightweight sweater under a canvas jacket. The sweater fit well and its neckline had bits that draped in interesting ways making the sweater do what only Faye could naturally do. It hinted at skin and curves without highlighting either at the same time drawing your attention to both.
She was with him so he gave her the rest of it.
“I already know that family in there is better than the one I grew up in, honey,” he whispered back. “Money and status don’t mean shit. It’s character that means somethin’. My father doesn’t have that. Your father does, he married a woman who has it and together they built a family that has it. You’re nervous and twistin’ shit in that pretty head of yours to make you more nervous. Stop it. This is gonna be fine.”
“Okay,” she said quietly.
“Now you got a job ahead of you and that’s to try real hard not to be cute. When you’re cute, it makes me wanna kiss you in a way a deacon at a church, who still curses just not in front of his daughter, will not like. Since you’re cute all the time, this is gonna be hard for you. But I’m askin’ you to try.”
Her bubblegum lips twitched then she replied softly, “I’ll try.”
Staring at her mouth, he muttered, “And you’ll fail.”
“Chace –” she breathed and his eyes shot back to hers.
“You’re bein’ cute,” he warned.
Her ear dipped to her shoulder and her brows inched together.
Cute.
“I just said your name.”
“All it takes.”
Her head righted, her eyes went hooded, her lips parted and she gave him her look.
Then she gave him more cute and he was f**king thrilled to take it.
“Seriously,” she whispered, near reverent, beyond adorable, “you’re fraking awesome.”
He loved it that she felt that way.
And he hoped to Christ she always would.
Chace grinned before he used his hand to pull her close and dip her down so he could kiss her nose. They could have an audience but she was chewing gum. He tasted her, especially with the additional element of bubblemint, they wouldn’t head inside for fifteen minutes.
Then he pulled her back and stated, “Let’s go in.”
She nodded, started to move away and he let her go.
He waited for her to round the truck before he took her hand and guided her to the lit front door.
He’d been out this way on numerous occasions when he was in a cruiser on patrol and for a variety of business during his tenure at CPD. The road that led to the Goodknight house did not dead end at the hills west of town but meandered up them and through the mountains. There were ranches off that road, a couple of units of rental condos for residents and for vacationers and, higher up the mountain, a few large homes owned by wealthy residents or kept as second houses to wealthier non-residents. He’d long since known where the Goodknights lived mostly because, after he’d spotted Faye, he put that one with the one of their name on the mailbox on the street and got two so that house hit his radar.
Their house was split level and, by the look of it, built in the 70’s. Likely family room, dining room, kitchen and other common areas on the lower level, living room and bedrooms up top or vice versa. Seeing as from the road you couldn’t see an elevated deck leading off the upper level but instead a dug out patio leading from the lower one, he was guessing the family areas were down below.
As they made their approach, they were, surprisingly, not greeted at the door. Instead, Faye let them in without knocking and while Chace was closing the door to the March evening Colorado cold, she shouted, “We’re here!”
That was when it began. Something Chace thought he was prepared for.
Something, he was not.
A night in a normal, average family home with a normal, average family that was nutty, loud, opinionated but funny, immensely close and teasingly loving.
They were still standing on the stone tiled landing that had a half flight of stairs leading up to an open space living room to their left and a half flight leading down straight into a kitchen right in front of them. Upon Faye’s shout, two boys, her nephews, Jarot and Robbie, came racing up the steps. The older one had dark brown hair with a hint of red. The younger one had Faye’s hair.
He thought they were racing to greet their Aunt Faye but he would immediately discover they weren’t when they both came to rocking halts in front of him, tipped their heads back and spoke in unison… loudly.
“Show us your badge!” Jarot demanded on a shout.
“Gun!” Robbie screeched.
Apparently, it had been shared with the boys he was a cop.
“Um… can Detective Keaton show you his badge after you say hello to your Auntie Faye, I introduce you to Detective Keaton and maybe he gets a drink, sits down and relaxes?” Faye suggested in a practiced-sounding tone that was mixture of mild exasperation and “aren’t my nephews adorably naughty?”
“Right,” Jarot backed down, moving toward Faye and allowing her, with a soon-to-be nine year old’s obvious reluctance, to give him a short hug and an even shorter peck on the cheek.
“Gun!” Robbie repeated on a screech, ignoring his aunt completely.
“Robbie! Mind your manners!” a woman reproached and Chace’s eyes went to the stairs.
Chace had seen Faye in town with her sister, Sondra and Silas and it was her sister, Liza, who was approaching.
God had seen fit to grant Faye with her father’s unusual blue eyes and her mother’s unusual auburn hair. He’d seen fit to grant Liza Newman with her mother’s dark brown eyes and her father’s dark brown hair. Both were nice but Faye’s combination was a knockout while Liza’s was simply appealing.
That said, she was attractive but her hair was cut short. A style that she wore well and it suited her but it was something Chace did not often find appealing. She’d had two children but her ass and tits were less abundant than her sister’s on a frame that both women inherited from their mother. Same height, same tiny waist, body meant to be hourglass, not streamlined. This meant she took more than passing care of herself and therefore likely dieted. She didn’t look gaunt or in a bad mood because she needed a sandwich since she’d only had a protein bar between breakfast and now. But it wasn’t a look that Chace found appealing either.
Last, Faye was wearing a little jeans skirt through the belt loops of which she’d threaded a bright scarf that she’d tied off to one side in a bow. Up top, she had on a dark green, lightweight sweater under a canvas jacket. The sweater fit well and its neckline had bits that draped in interesting ways making the sweater do what only Faye could naturally do. It hinted at skin and curves without highlighting either at the same time drawing your attention to both.
