Reckless Read Free Page A

and Hauck’s new job—not to mention her son, Jared, moving east with her and boarding five days a week at a nearby school for kids with special needs—they only got to see each other a couple of days a week, and so things tended to be very physical between them.
    “Me either,” Hauck huffed, cupping her thighs, the rush of climax coming on.
    They had been together for six months now—on and off, mostly on—Annie’s responsibilities at the restaurant clashing a bit with Hauck’s commitment to the new job. She didn’t push for more. He didn’t offer. Annie was trusting and open. It wasn’t so much a relationship as it was a loose, easy friendship— with benefits —what time would allow.
    Their rhythm grew faster and faster. Sweat coated their skin. “Thought you had to get to the market…,” he said to her, feeling her breaths beginning to deepen and knowing she was only a few accelerating tremors from letting out.
    “Damn arctic char are just gonna have to wait…”
    The voice from the TV said stock futures were trending down again for the fourth day in a row.
    But Hauck and Annie weren’t listening. Their IRAs could have been in total free fall and right now neither of them would have given a damn.
    Finally, with a last gasp, Annie arched, stiffening, then fell back onto him, joyfully spent of breath, draping her satisfied body over his, her chest feeling about a thousand degrees. “Damn.” She sighed from her head all the way down to her little toes. “Now that’s the way to start the workweek. That was a good one.”
    “That was three. ” Hauck flung back his arms in mock exhaustion. “I’m an old guy. You’re killing me.”
    “Three?” She rested her chin on his chest. “Two, I think.”
    “ Two since they talked about the transit fares going up,” he told her. “One more since traffic and weather.”
    “Oh, yeah, three, ” she purred contentedly, releasing a long, slow sigh. “Math was never my strong suit.”
    Hauck turned and focused in on the digital clock. “Damn. Look at the time! I’ve got to scoot.”
    Annie restrained him as he tried to wrestle free, digging in her chin more sharply. “You know, I’m happy, Ty…” She smiled, a kind of coy, amused grin, being purposefully annoying. “Are you happy? You don’t always look so. I know you’re sort of a tough nut to crack.”
    “Apparently not, ” he said, chuckling at the lame joke. “And yeah, sure, I’m happy…” He tried to roll her off. “I’ll be happy if I can get you off of me and hop into the shower.”
    “Oh, right,” Annie chortled, “like this wasn’t exactly what you had in mind when you snuggled over to me before the alarm went off…”
    “Alright, maybe,” Hauck admitted a little guiltily. “One …”
    “You’re just a glass-half-empty kind of dude, aren’t you? Never show too much of yourself. Never trust the moment.”
    “I’m not half-empty at all.” Hauck finally spun her off and faced her sideways. “I’m actually completely half-full. It’s just that it’s buried. Very, very deep.”
    “Right; if it were any deeper, you’d find oil in it,” Annie said, and deciding it was funny, twisted his nose.
    “Laugh-out-loud,” Hauck said, screwing up his face. But then he laughed too.
    That was because, truth be said, he was happy. The lines etched in his face might not have shown it, but Annie had brought things out in him he had never let surface before. The uncomplicated will to just enjoy life. To relax, stay in the moment. For the first time, it seemed things that had weighed heavily on him for so long—the deaths of his daughter, eight years before; his brother, only last year; and Freddy Munoz, his protégé on the force—all seemed to have been pushed back into some closed, time-locked vault he no longer felt compelled to open and to which he had momentarily lost the key.
    Not to mention the fact that he had suddenly left the force and gone into the private sector.