Surprise Daddy
His hand lingers on the banister, rough grip sapping his strength. He hangs his head and sighs. When his eyes return to mine, they’re conflicted, then understanding. “I can’t keep you here. Please, babe, just don’t do anything illegal or dangerous. If it’s him…damn it, just stay safe. Get out of here before Jackson comes sniffing. He hasn’t been thinking clearly since the day he almost knocked you down.”
“Dad?” I’m in disbelief. I drop everything and squeeze him until his glasses come loose. “I’ll never forget this. Thank you.”
“Yeah, now run along. Looks like your taxi’s here. I’ll tell your mom everything tomorrow over brunch. We’ll manage, one way or another, just like we always do.”
I give him one more hug and then grab my things. It’s hard to believe I’ve gotten so lucky.
Now, I just have to decide whether the next time I lay eyes on Marshal, I smother him with kisses or slap his face into a tailspin.
“Here, ma’am? You’re sure?” The middle aged cab driver looks back in the mirror, doing a double take at the dirty place I’ve asked him to drop me off.
I search for signs of Marshal. It’s several seconds before I catch faint movement, a reflection inside one of the few windshields still intact in the parking lot.
A signal. It has to be.
“I am, and thank you,” I mutter, shoving a ball of cash at the cabbie. An ultra-generous tip should keep him from asking any questions.
I wait until he starts pulling away before I move. Then I’m speed walking through the opening in the rusted chain link fence, careful not to trip over the debris. I hear a car door open.
Suddenly, he’s running toward me. It’s less than a minute before his massive arms crash around me, and the lips I’ve needed for weeks forge tears.
Our kiss is a collision. I put my hands around his neck and sink my nails in his skin.
We come together like a storm.
Angry. Blistering. Melancholy. Raw.
Every last feeling on passion’s atlas, plus some uncharted. I try to suck the life out of him, but he does it better, drinking my pain and love and confusion. And I taste his, sweet sustenance, even in its dark and ugly parts.
I see the sun when his grip finally lessens, and I’m able to gaze into those blue eyes I’ve missed like priceless pearls.
“Never letting you out of my sight again, woman,” he growls, his fingers pressed against my back through my coat. He’s going to shear it off my body, I swear, leaving nothing but his warmth for protection.
I think I’m okay with that.
“Idiot, you’d better not. Because I can’t believe I’m standing here, bags packed, considering…I don’t even know what.”
“Say you’ll still be my wife. Run away with me. Leave all the crap in this town behind. It’s not too late to find our way, the one we were always meant for.”
There’s so much happening between the words I don’t even know. This gorgeous, rough man in front of me can’t even give me any hard answers.
But it’s his eyes that win me over.
They always do.
Scorching blue as morning sky. Intense, alive, and always hopeful.
That, I can work with. I can take his hand and fight. We’ll sift through this drama, somehow, someway. And maybe after a while, we can let go of everything that’s been holding us apart, dragging us down.
“Darling, say it,” he growls, pressing his forehead to mine. “Let me hear those words coming from your lips.”
“Yes, yes, yes. Of course I will, Marshal. I love you, and today that’s enough.” It really is.
Truth is never more powerful than when it’s spoken out loud. Everything else becomes a flimsy apparition. All our troubles, our doubts, our woes are destined to melt in the daylight of my heartbeat for him. They always were.
“Love the fuck out of you,” he rumbles, sweet baritone roughness vibrating through his chest. His thick hand cups my cheek and he digs his fingers in just slightly, holding me for his eyes. “I thought I’d lost you.”
“Not quite.” I smile. “Not ever. There’s things we’ll need to discuss, questions I really need an answer to –“
“Red, say no more. I’ll break my ribs and hand you my still-beating heart if it gets us good again. No more secrets. I promise.”
“Promise, what’d you promise, daddy?” A little singsong voice stands behind him, tentatively clinging to a busted tractor tire.
We let go. Marshal takes my hand like it’s the first day of the rest of our life. Then we both walk over to greet Mia together, him hoisting her up, and we race to find out who smothers the little cherub in kisses first.
“Your daddy just promised to make me the happiest woman on earth, honeybee,” I say. “And I know he will. There’s a good man in there – even if he struggles to find his way out, sometimes.”