Tank (Moonshine Task Force Book 2)(22)



She pats me on the back before she leans over and kisses me on the cheek. “You are, and I’m more proud of you than I could ever let you know.”

My chest puffs out with that pride. There are few people in my life I worry about impressing and she’s one of them. “That means a lot.”

We don’t say anything else as we make our way into the jewelry store.

“Do you know what you want to get her?” she asks as we enter and say hi to the two associates working behind the counters.

“Sure do,” I go directly to the watch case. “She’s been eyeing this G-shock for a while. It’s got everything anybody doing her job needs, and she broke her other watch last week. Win-win for me.” It’s navy blue and hot pink, water resistant, shock resistant, and has the second hand, which she uses when she’s checking someone’s pulse.

I make my purchase, handing the bag to Whitney, super proud of myself. It’s both practical and feminine, which I know she doesn’t get to display very often. In her line of work, the only people who notice she’s a woman are the drunks who hit on her when they’re looking for a pretty face.

“Is this all you’re getting her?” Whitney asks when we exit the jewelry store.

As hard as I try, I can’t help the blood red I know my face turns. The curse of being a blond. “No, it’s not all I’m getting her. I have to go over here,” I point to a lingerie store.

Whitney laughs. “You want me to let you do this on your own, Trev? There’s a children’s store right up there and I’d love to get Stella a Christmas dress.”

“I’ll come find you,” I promise as I watch her walk away.

Heading into the store, I have a smirk on my face. If there’s one thing Blaze loves, even though she’s not girlie, it’s to wear lingerie, and I have to say, I love seeing her in it. Usually she picks it out and surprises me with it. This time I’m going to get her exactly what I’ve been dying for her to wear. High-handed? Maybe, but I do love a woman who is sexually aware, and nobody is more sexually aware than my Blaze.





CHAPTER TWELVE




Blaze


“Did you get everything you need?” I question as Trevor comes in with Whitney behind him, carrying wrapped gifts.

“I did,” he greets me with a smile and a kiss, before he turns back to his sister. “Thanks for taking me again, Whit. We’ll be over sometime this week to see Stella, if that’s cool?”

“Just text to make sure she’s not asleep. Do you need anything else?”

She looks like she’s about to drop, and I pull her into my arms. If there’s one thing I know after seeing many new moms, it’s sometimes they need a hug. “Anything else he needs, I have. Take care of yourself and be sure to get as much rest as you can.”

“I’m doing my best,” she closes her eyes as she sighs. “It’s hard, though. Hopefully, soon she’ll realize what sleeping for longer than three hours at a time is.” Her grin is rueful, and I know she wouldn’t give any of it up for the world.

“She will,” I assure her. “Not that I’m a mother or anything, but you do learn a few things when you work in the healthcare industry. Do your best to get her on a schedule.”

“We’re working on it,” she reaches in and hugs Trevor as he comes back into the room. “Will I see you all at Mom’s on Christmas morning?”

My eyes meet Trevor’s. I want to be there, but he hasn’t asked me to come. When my parents do their holiday party, it’s not like we sit around a tree and open gifts, it’s never been like that. At least not that I can remember.

“Yeah, we’ll be there,” he answers. “Eight in the morning for breakfast, right?”

“Yup, I plan on getting there a little early to help,” a yawn slips from her mouth before she can cover it up.

I find myself speaking up. “Then we’ll get there a little early, too. You just had a baby, no reason I can’t help.”

We say our goodbyes, Trevor and I watching as she backs out onto the street and speeds away with a wave. It’s easy for me to believe this is the type of life I can have with him, but I know I can’t make plans, not until we deal with our issues. Those issues seem to have been put to the side while he recovers and I’m okay with it, but I’m not stupid either. Not talking about it doesn’t automatically fix anything.

“I’m sorry if she put you on the spot,” he holds the door open for me with his crutch as I step inside, in turn holding it open for him.

“On the spot for what?” My eyebrows come together in question. I’m truly confused as to why he’s apologizing.

“Christmas morning at my parents’. I mean I know I’m going with you to your parents’ big party, but there’s a huge difference in attending a holiday party and a family Christmas. If you don’t feel comfortable, please tell me.”

There’s a struggle with what I want to tell him and what I should tell him. Being transparent would probably the smart thing to do, but he and I have never really been smart and we’ve never really been transparent. Maybe right now is a good time to start. Nothing will change until one of us takes the first step.

“The holiday party with my family? It’s like Christmas morning with yours. Mine have never been big on the quaint family life, though. They’d much rather get together and show off how much money they have.”

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