Hugo is already sitting in a wheelchair, his bag on his knees when I get to his room, something he apparently isn’t thrilled about.
“Nothing wrong with my damn legs,” he grumbles when I bend down to greet him with a kiss.
Touching him already comes so naturally, I’m no longer concerned with PDAs.What is surprising to me is how unsurprised people seem to be he and I are together now.It’s like everyone already knew, and we…or maybe I should say, I was the only one in the dark.
“Good,” I comment dryly as I start pushing his wheelchair toward the exit.“You can show me how well they work after we get you home.”
Carson has pulled up his truck outside the doors and hops down to grab his father’s gear.I let Hugo get himself up and into the passenger seat without interfering, sensing he won’t want me fussing over him, and return the chair to the lobby.
Once we’re all in the truck—I’m in the back with Hugo’s bag—I broach the subject of where to take him.
“You have two options,” I tell him, leaning in between the two front seats.“We can take you home, but then we’ll have to pick up the dog and our stuff from Phil’s house, or we can stay at her place for a bit.She offered.”
He glances over at me.
“Are you gonna stick around?”
“That was the plan.”
He nods.“Then I don’t give a flying fuck where.”
“Phil’s house!”Carson votes with enthusiasm.
That would’ve been my choice too.Not that I don’t like Hugo’s place, because I do, but I am more at home in Phil’s house.I don’t feel like I’m trying to fill the void left by Emily.I take up my own space in the roomy bungalow.
Also, at Phil’s I have a state-of-the-art kitchen I can claim as my domain.
“You’re the chauffeur,” I remind him.
I sit back and buckle up, letting my mind drift as Carson drives us home.
It’s a ten-minute drive from town, which means I’d be heading down the mountain in the wee hours of the morning.At least I will be, once we have Strange Brew back open, but that won’t be for at least another week, according to Lola.She’s been monitoring progress and is working on ordering to replenish equipment and supplies we’ve had to toss out.She and Emmet have also been giving the coffee shop a fresh paint job, and are waiting for me to pick colors for the apartment upstairs so they can do the same there.
Truthfully, I don’t know what I want.As much as I loved my apartment before, I don’t see it the same way anymore.It used to be my little oasis, my safe haven, conveniently close to the business that was my life.My life used to be contained within the brick walls of that building, but that’s no longer the case.I still love Strange Brew and would never give it up, but my life seems to have grown beyond those boundaries.
At least I got word from the insurance company yesterday they’d be cutting a check the beginning of next week.That will mean I’ll be able to pay Lola and Emmet without interruption and can hopefully replenish some of my spent savings.
But those are concerns for another day, for now I’m going to enjoy having Hugo home with us.
Hugo
Jesus,even just walking to the fucking bathroom has me panting like I ran a marathon uphill.
How is it possible that someone in the prime of his life and in fairly decent shape is reduced to the fitness level of an octogenarian?If this is the state of my endurance, there’s not a chance in hell I’ll be taking Bess to bed any time soon.
I’ve been dreaming about all the ways I want to fuck her.Stuff we haven’t had a chance to explore yet, and frankly, things I haven’t even fantasized about in years.Some of it would probably be above my capacity, even if I were completely healthy, but it sure would be fun to try.
And every time Bess walks in the room, bends over to pull another of her creations out of the oven, or smiles that mysterious little smile in my direction, my cock jumps to attention.Apparently, the only part of my body that did not get the memo we are temporarily out of business.
On the other hand, this past weekend here—the quiet of the mountains with just the sound of the water, breathing in the crisp mountain air—has been the most relaxed I’ve been in I don’t know how long.Yesterday we sat outside by a small fire Bess built, watching Carson try his hand at fly fishing in the creek.Simply enjoying each other’s company.
I’ve noticed how comfortably Bess and Carson seem to interact.Nothing forced or artificial, but with an ease that shows how much each cares for the other.
They fit.We all fit in a way I didn’t think would be possible.
Carson was off to school this morning with an egg sandwich to eat on the way—because of course he stayed in bed ’til the last minute—and a wrap and freshly baked muffin Bess packed him for lunch.
I was about to tell her he knows how to make his own lunches, has done so for years, but I could see she loved doing it, and my son seemed to appreciate the gesture, so I kept my mouth shut.Why mess with something that seems to make both of them happy?
