Page 39 of Copper

“I like waking up with you. I like the way your body feels against me. We should do it more often.”

Most men would expect sex, touching, or a lazy morning blow job, but we just stay like this for minutes. Maybe hours. I lose track of time as my hands graze his skin. I drag my nails lightly over his shoulders and all the way down his back as he strokes my hair. He kisses the top of my head or my temple every minute or so, and I revel in the times he kisses my temple because I can enjoy his scratchy stubble against my face.

I must doze off because I wake to the sound of water running. A shower? I was so out of it that I have to think about where I am all over again. The smell of brewing coffee wafts from downstairs, and the familiar sound of Aaron whistling from his bathroom sets my heart pounding.

I have half a mind to join him, but he’s out and halfway dressed by the time I stretch, roll my legs off the side of the bed, and do a cursory check of my email. I set the phone down as he opens the bathroom door.

“Breakfast?” he asks, smiling and wet from the shower. Drops of water roll down his chest, and I lick my lips. Talk about a thirst trap. “I have biscuits in the oven.”

“That sounds amazing, Aaron.”

As he throws on a dress shirt and tie, I throw an old t-shirt of his over my head and search the floor for my discarded panties from last night. The simple actions of getting ready in the morning touch my heart, and it’s all I can do not to drag him back to bed or drop to my knees in front of him to wish him a good day.

When we’re both presentable, we silently walk downstairs, and Aaron pours me a mug of coffee. Amazingly, he fixes it exactly how I drink it and hands it to me with a smile.

“Why are you being so good to me?” I ask. I really want to know. I’m not used to a man treating me this well.

A dark cloud passes over his face like he’s thinking about my shit stain ex-husband, but he quickly covers it with a naughty grin. “You know what you did to deserve this, Lucy.”

“Was I that good last night?”

He smiles and leans forward, rubbing his nose against mine. “That and the fact that you’re Lucy and have always deserved this. I hope I can make you believe that someday. You need serious deprogramming, baby.”

I sip the bitter coffee and smile at him over the rim of my mug. “You have no idea.” Aaron grabs an oven mitt and pulls the biscuits out of the oven while I take a few more gulps of the sinful drink. “Do you have to be at work soon?”

He grabs a spatula and two small plates. “In about thirty minutes. Just enough time to eat with my girl.”

Hisgirl.

He hands me a plate, and we walk to his eat-in breakfast area. I’m familiar with his kitchen since I’ve been here a week, but I still look around like it’s my first time seeing it. A door leads to the back deck, but there are only windows at the very top of the door. It’s obviously the kind of door a cop would have because it looks like it’d be impossible to break into by a simple rock to the windowpane.

The only window in the room is above the sink, and it’s a small bay window with a few herbs in pots. Popsicle sticks with childish scrawl across the wood labels the plants as basil, thyme, and cilantro. Ruby’s preschool drawings of her family and house cover the refrigerator, held in place by picture magnets with pictures of Mickey in the clear frames. A door with a shiny old-fashioned knob separates the kitchen and the dining room, and a large butcher block island surrounded by stools is in the middle of the food prep area.

“What happens next with the Justin Hammons tape?” I ask.

Aaron swipes jelly on his biscuit and pops a piece in his mouth. He chews and swallows before answering, probably thinking. “I take the tape, the financial record of Murphy, and Todd Daniel’s motorcycle club membership card to the judge and apply for a warrant.”

“Will that take a long time?”

Aaron takes a sip of his own coffee. “The hard part will be scheduling to catch the judge. Judge Hossit, the judge that handles this stuff for me usually, has court in the mornings, so I’ll have to wait until the afternoon. After I get some time with him, it should go quick. I’ll spend the morning with Coleson and some other officers to work out how we’ll go in.”

“Sorry for being dumb about this stuff, but I only know what I know from TV. How do you go in?”

“We cover every entrance to the house, knock, and tell him to open the door.”

“What if he doesn’t? That sounds dangerous.”

“We have a warrant and announce that. Then, we go in any way we can get into the building.” He reaches across the table and grabs my hand. “It’s fine, Lucy. I do it all the time.”

“That’s what scares me about it.” I crack my knuckles and stare at my biscuit, which suddenly seems unappetizing, even though it’s the first meal a man has ever cooked for me. I should enjoy it, but thinking about Aaron in danger and going up against a possibly-armed Murphy makes my stomach turn. “Aren’t you scared something could happen to you? I mean, with the girls being so young and your wife…well, dead?”

If Aaron’s bothered by the mention of Cynthia, he doesn’t show it. “I’m lucky in that way, I guess. People who don’t have family would be in a shit pickle. If I didn’t have Gayle, that’s Cynthia’s mother, a couple hours away, and if my own parents weren’t in good health at a retirement community in Arizona, I’d be more worried. As it is, someone will be around to take care of the girls until they’re eighteen. I’ve thought about it, and I’ve talked to all of them about it. They know I’m a cop.”

The idea of those girls being orphaned or not having the chance to know what an amazing man their father is sends a chill up my spine. The need for those girls to have Aaron safe even outweighs my own need to have him in my life. I finally got him back. I don’t like him going to Murphy’s, and I grip my coffee mug so hard that my knuckles turn white.

“Will you text me when you’re on your way there and again when you’re OK? I’ll worry about you.”

He runs his hand down his tie and gets up from the table. Before he takes his dishes to the dishwasher, he leans over and kisses my forehead. “If that’s what you want.”

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