Now Ricky is usually a bit
restrained, being an accountant and all.
Okay, strike that. Restraint is
not his thing, especially when he thinks I might have been hurt as part of the
job I do.
I heard the front door open
about half an hour after Tom had left. Yeah, I was still a bit jumpy from all
that had gone down, so I was on my feet, ready to defend myself if necessary.
It was, but only from Ricky as he practically bowled me over, hugging and
kissing me as if we'd been apart for a month, not half a day.
He finished his attack by
stepping back, gripping my arms while he looked me over with a critical eye.
"Two arms, two legs, one body, one head, no obvious damage except"—he
lightly touched the bandages on my throat. "You made it through in one
piece. I'm proud of you. Now…tell me again what the hell were you thinking when you set that up?"
"I missed you
too," I said when I could finally get a word in edgewise.
He sagged against me,
heaving a deep sigh. "It's over. Right?"
"Yep. Over and done and
we can get back to our normal lives." Of course I didn't mention things
like trials and the possibility that, with a good lawyer, there was always the
chance at least Carlo might get off with a light sentence or probation. Ben?
He'd probably end up in the pen, or in a psyche ward, depending on how his
lawyer played it. No sense it telling Ricky that. He'd figure it out in time.
He is a smart man. For now, well as I told him, it was time to move on.
He looked up at me and gave
me that wicked grin that meant he was about to proposition me. "I suggest
we start by heading straight upstairs to celebrate 'normal'."
I wasn't going to argue over
that idea—so we did. Then we went out for lunch at our favorite restaurant,
came home and celebrated again. After all, it's Sunday. What else would two
red-blooded men do who have no interest in professional sports on TV? Screw
each others brains out. Right?
The End
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