Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 82282 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82282 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
“Sounds like you ran just as many 415’s today as I did.” He observed dryly.
415’s were police code for ‘arguments.’ Trance started saying 415 at home during our first official fight as a married couple, and we’d been saying that ever since.
I shook my head. “Yes, if not more so.”
He grabbed his plate out of the microwave, followed by a beer out of the fridge, and then sat at the table with it. “Hey, will you plug my Maglite in?” He asked offhandedly.
I managed to hold in the sarcastic ‘sure honey,’ that normally came with that request. I did the same thing every time he worked a shift. I never failed one time to move the pins over from his uniform, nor forget to plug his shit in.
I walked to the laundry room and grabbed the Maglite. Followed by the Taser and his radio, and walked into the bedroom where he kept the chargers beside our bed.
Once I had them plugged in, I changed out of my chocolate milk stained shirt into one of Trance’s department issued ones before walking back out to sit with him.
He was shoveling in the last of his food, which was, I’d leaned, the way a police officer ate.
“How was your day?” I asked as he leaned back and started to drink his beer.
His beautiful eyes turned to me. He looked tired.
His day had started early when he’d made a sweep of the local schools, which took up the first four hours of his day, followed by his patrol duty.
“Picked up some drugs at Benton High this morning. Nearly a hundred pounds of weed in a kid’s trunk. Fuckin’ dumb ass.” He sighed.
I grimaced. “Sorry,” I apologized.
He lifted an uncaring shoulder. “Nothing you could do about it.”
I really couldn’t do anything about it. I just learned to lend an ear when he wanted or needed it. I’d made some good friends with a few of the LEO’s wives of the parish, and I’d learned that most of the time that was really all you could do.
I no longer worked at Benton high. I stayed home with the kids, which made Trance extremely happy. Maybe one day I’d go back, but not until the kids were all in school.
“Tomorrow’s your day off, at least. What time is the softball game?” I asked for confirmation.
He pushed his chair back and patted his leg for me to sit in his lap. Following orders, I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and buried my face in his neck, relishing in the unique leather and Dial Soap scent.
One arm went around my back while the other took up its usual spot on the curve of my belly.
The baby, the one where we still didn’t know the gender of, moved happily around inside of me, kicking and punching away.
My stomach was contorting to all kinds of shapes and sizes, and his eyes lit with happiness. Trance loved me being pregnant. Which was why I’d been pregnant three of the last four years. Oakley came along nine months to the day of our wedding. Ford followed on her heels, one year later. I got pregnant again when Ford was five months old; now, we were adding our third child to the mix.
Trance thought we’d have more, but I’d been working on him to get a vasectomy. I loved my kids, but I really hated being pregnant.
The mood swings. Dear Lord the mood swings were killer. One minute I’d be perfectly content, then Trance could walk into the room and bring the smell of chocolate with him, and I’d be a raving lunatic.
I had gestational diabetes with all three of my kids so far, and I really needed my chocolate fix. I could give up cokes, cakes, and cookies, but take away my chocolate and I’d turn into a right bitch.
Trance tried to help by eating healthy with me, but there were times he’d try to sneak in a candy bar while I wasn’t looking, and I’d know. He couldn’t keep that kind of thing away from me.
“Yes, the Halligans vs. Handcuffs third annual softball tournament will be at nine. We’ll play best two out of three.” He agreed.
I checked my watch and blanched at the time. “I’ve got to go to bed if you expect me to get anything done tomorrow. I’m beat.”
He stood with me in his arms, and I squalled. “Put me down! I’m too big!”
He laughed, a deep, rich bellow of sound, and I closed my eyes and leaned my head against his chest.
He dropped me off in the bathroom, knowing my nightly routine even better than his own, and went to the bed, tossing out toys, cups, and brushing off crumbs.
Once I was done in the bathroom, he held the covers up for me to crawl under, and I groaned in peace at the perfection that was our bed.
“Keep groaning like that and I’ll have to fuck you. We both know we’re too tired for that.” He growled against my back as he curled up behind me.
I snorted. There was no way in hell I was having sex. I was way too damn tired.
Trance, of course, knew how to coax my tired body back to life, and with one well-placed hand, he had me ready to go.
“Are you sure you’re still tired?” He asked as his talented finger worked my swollen clit.
I groaned. “I really am tired.”
He laughed into my hair and maneuvered me until I was on my hands and knees, and he was directly behind me.
There weren’t many positions that worked when you were pregnant. One of the tried and true was doggy style, which, this late into the pregnancy, was our go to move.
He always made up for the same old position by doing and trying new things, and using new toys; but, today, he settled for just plain, old vanilla sex.
I’d tried one time to get him to handcuff me, but he looked at me in horror. He’d said, “I’m sorry, but just no. Every time I get those handcuffs out, all I can think about is the last criminal I put in them. It’s never going to happen baby.”