Hunting Haven

Haven

He did it again. Five minutes to three, Gabe knocked on my door. True to form, I didn’t have shoes on yet. At least, I was sans toothbrush this time. It was the little things in life.

When I opened the door, he held a bouquet of peonies and lavender. Suddenly, the hours of me telling myself that this wasn’t a date felt pointless. I took the flowers and thanked him, sniffing the floral arrangement while simultaneously using it to hide the color in my cheeks.

“They’re beautiful. Thank you. Come on in.” He followed me to the kitchen so I could put the flowers in a vase.

“You’re welcome.” He sat down at the kitchen table while I pointedly ignored the way his baseball tee clung to his biceps. Focusing on the flowers was harder than it should have been, but damn, he looked good. I mentally berated myself as I poured water into the vase.

“Looks like I’m not the first guy to bring you flowers lately,” he remarked in a tight voice.

I frowned. Jealousy didn’t seem like Gabe’s style, but I couldn’t think of another reason why he’d sound so agitated.

He glared at the lone red rose that I’d put in a vase after work the night before, as if it had personally offended him.

“Oh. Peter, the little boy from next door. He always leaves flowers on my porch. Usually, it’s dandelions. Well, the stem of dandelions. He liked to blow the seeds off of them. He insists that we’re going to get married one day.”

I smiled to ease the tension his rapidly souring mood had brought into the room. “Seriously, Gabe, he’s five. He’s not exactly what you’d consider competition.”

He shook his head, forcing a smile. “Not why I’m glaring. Just upset that I didn’t go with roses. Can’t believe I got one upped by a kid.”

“If it makes you feel better, he also leaves me worms sometimes. Definitely takes away from the appeal of roses.”

He chuckled softly and stood, walking over to the counter where I arranged the flowers. His hand landed on the small of my back and I looked up at him curiously.

We both were pretty good at avoiding physical contact and generally living in denial over our intense attraction to each other. I’d crossed that line the night before by hugging him. Apparently, it was his turn to push the boundaries of our unspoken hands-off rule.

“Why don’t you go put your shoes on? I’ll finish up with the flowers.” I backed away from him, mostly afraid that if I didn’t put some distance between us, I’d get closer. His fingers fell away from me, the lack of contact more disappointing than I cared to admit.

“Good idea. I’ll be right back.” I rushed out of the room and headed up to my room. I pulled my black and white Converse on, taking my time to calm down.

Gabe was just a friend. That was all. We were buddies. I can’t even convince myself.

When my racing heart finally returned to normal, I made my way back down to the kitchen.

“Ready to head out?” I asked.

“Yeah. Where are we going?”

“To a place where you can decompress and practice your aim.”

“Gun range?”

His response surprised a snort of laughter out of me. “You’re such a cop. No, not a gun range. You’ll see.”

***

“Seriously?”

“I am dead serious. Prepare to get your ass kicked.” Big words coming from a woman who hadn’t played in almost a decade. But I liked to win, and I liked to talk smack even more.

We both wore our vests, guns in hand, as we waited with the others who’d enter the room with us.

“What? No truce until we eliminate the strangers?” He held the gun at his side, finger off the trigger. Apparently, gun safety applied even when it was just laser tag.

“No way, Macias. You’re the only one I care about shooting.”

The digital timer that hung above us began to count down from ten, the lights dimming slowly. By the time the clock reached zero, the fluorescent lights were no more. Black lights were the only source of illumination in the room. The red lines from laser guns and flashing targets on the vests that we all wore became beacons as we all scattered, taking cover behind rocky formations made of foam.

I crept slowly around the room, trying to avoid being spotted as I searched for Gabe. The desire to beat him was strong. I took out a kid around the age of 13 when he spotted me and instantly felt like a mean old lady. All is fair in love in war, though. If he shot me, I couldn’t eliminate the deputy, and that wasn’t an option.

Time passed slowly. Players that had been shot lined up against the wall for someone to win so that round two could commence. I counted 7 people, that meant there were two more besides me in play still.

Hands grabbed me from behind. I almost panicked, but Gabe’s voice met my ear before I had the chance. His chest pressed against my back. I could feel the heat radiating off of him as one hand curled around my waist. My body leaned against him without my permission as I listened to him all but growl.

“I win.” He pointed his gun at my target and pulled the trigger.

The sound of my vest and gun powering down did nothing to distract me from the feel of him surrounding him. I found it hard to care that he’d beat me, especially when his five o’clock shadow brushed against my cheek.

The noise of defeat emanated from his equipment a second later, breaking the spell between us.

“Didn’t you learn to watch your six in the academy or something, Macias?” I laughed.

He joined in, stepping back as the tension slowly dissolved. “Well, like you said, the only one I care about beating was you.”

I turned to face him, sticking my tongue out playfully. “Round two is mine.”

“Wanna bet?”

“Absolutely.”

“Winner gets to drive next time,” he suggested.

“Lame. Loser tells an embarrassing story.”

“Best two out of three?”

“Deal.”

Now that there was a potentially mortifying tale on the line, I was even more dedicated to winning, and I definitely wasn’t above conspiring with others.

I walked away from Gabe as we lined up for the next round, putting space between us, as I approached a group of teenagers that had come together.

“Hey guys! I was wondering if you could do me a favor?”

They collectively frowned at me, probably because being in your mid-twenties was geriatric to these kids who couldn’t have been more than sophomores in high school. One of the boys asked what I wanted semi-politely at least.

“You see that guy in the back? The tall one? We’re on a date and we have a bet going. I need to outlast him for the next two rounds. Can you help?”

The three boys in the group grinned, agreeing immediately, while the two girls eyed Gabe. I didn’t blame them.

Once I’d managed to get them all on board, I looked back at the deputy. He shook his head in mock disappointment, mouthing the word cheater. I couldn’t help myself. I cackled as the time began its countdown.

The clock hit zero, and we all ran off the same as the first round, except this time Gabe was persona non grata. We converged on him, and he didn’t stand a chance. He was the third person eliminated. I was the fourth, but it didn’t matter. I’d technically beat him. Round three went much the same.

We shed our vests and left all the equipment in the designated area before making our way out to the arcade arm in arm.

Ya’ know, in a platonic, friendly, arm-linked kind of way.

I definitely didn’t notice how firm his muscles were as I held on to him, nor did I focus on how our significant height difference put my head right at shoulder level. I also had absolutely no desire to lean against him or hold him close. Nope. None at all.

“I never knew you were such a hustler. That was an unfair advantage you had,” he griped as we headed to the food court.

“Hey, we never said teams were off-limits. Not my fault you didn’t gather any allies,” I quipped, squeezing his arm playfully as we got in line.

“I’m a two hundred pound man in my mid-thirties. I can’t walk up to a group of kids and recruit them. They’d start screaming for help.”

Laughing at him seemed to be the theme of the day. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so happy just having a normal day out. Hell, I couldn’t remember the last time I went out other than to go to work or the grocery store. I was basically a 25-year-old hermit. Even with my most recent ex, we never had dates. Honestly, I’d just call him over when I wanted sex and sometimes I’d let him stay after. Being out with a guy and having fun was brand new territory for me.

After we ordered our food and settled down with a large sausage pizza between us, I began to prod him for the embarrassing story I’d earned.

He gave me a suffering look, sighing dramatically before he obliged. “So there was this one time, right? I responded to this call. A local farm reported someone trying to steal one of his cows. He said the perp was acting erratically and appeared under the influence of a narcotic.” I had to smother a giggle at the thought of someone trying to pilfer a bovine as I listened to his tale. “I arrived on the farm, only deputy free and in the area. The farmer points the guy and his cow out. They were about 50 yards into the cow pasture. I pursued them, grabbed the guy and cuffed him. As I started to walk back to the farmer with the thief and the animal, the guy started thrashing around. He was definitely on something. I tried to get him to calm down, but then he yanked away so hard that I stumbled. My foot slid across the ground and we both fell... into a pile of manure.”

“EW,” I couldn’t help my interruption. My nose crinkled as I imagined the scene he described. “Then what happened?”

“Then the farmer decided to press charges for trespassing. So the guy and I are both covered in cow crap in my squad car. I had to drive him to the station, book him, and then shower in the locker room at work. Thankfully, I had a change of clothes there. Wasn’t a uniform, but it worked. Sometimes we respond to calls from home, so being in plain clothes isn’t a huge deal. Not in a county as small as ours, at least. Anyway, after I changed, I had to clean out the squad car as best I could with wipes and other products I found around the station.” He paused, nose wrinkling in disgust. “That’s not even the worst part. It took hours to get all the feces out of because the prep had decided to spread it all around the back seat. Then, as soon as I finished cleaning, I had to rush to another call, but I had to shower again first. Let’s just say, the clean-up had gotten me dirty again. A woman’s car had been broken into and she was so pissed that I’d showered before responding to the scene. After she quit yelling at me, she started crying. It was a rough night.”

I covered my mouth, trying my best not to laugh. It took a few moments for me to compose myself and formulate a response. “Please tell me that the woman wasn’t me.”

“I can neither confirm nor deny.”

“After I got over the fact that you’d showered, I started imagining why you had to. I figured it was a bloody murder scene... definitely not cow waste. Now I feel even worse for yelling at you.”

“So you’d have less pity over a murder scene?”

“I mean... I’d take blood and guts over feces any day.”

He shook his head, his expression clearly amused. “You’re something else, Haven.”

“Believe it or not, that’s not the first time I’ve heard that.”

“Something tells me it won’t be the last either.”