Wes Dalton

She was taking too long. Glancing out the window above her sink, a car pulled into her drive. I turned her towards her bedroom and said, "Go get changed. We're going out."

"But, I'm—" she protested but I cut her off.

"Nope! I'm not taking 'no' for an answer. Go change. I'll meet you out front." Pushing her in the right direction, she walked the rest of the way on her own.

As soon as her bedroom door closed, I heard her phone ping. She had two texts from "Ashton." I cursed at myself as I realized my diversion didn't last long enough, I needed to plan better in the future, but I hoped that there wouldn't be another time I'd need to.

Before he could reach the door and ring the bell or knock, I opened it. I know I wasn't who he was expecting and I smiled politely at him.

"Good evening," I said. "May I help you?" For a split second, I wanted to ask if he was selling something, truly throwing him off his game, but it wasn't needed.

He looked at the house number, pulled out his phone and illuminated the screen, before looking back at me.

Good, I thought. Clearly he had never been to her home and was unsure enough that he needed to double check.

"I'm here to see Sarah," he was assertive and confident when he spoke, but there was some hesitation under it all.

"Aw, yeah. She is changing. We are about to head out."

"Head out?" He tilted his head as he pocketed his phone.

"Yeah, going out to eat." I smiled as I tilted my head to mock his movement. I was finding it hard to not rub it in his face that I was replacing him for the evening.

"Oh, alright," he drawled out. Rubbing his chin and standing awkwardly on her porch. He added, "Could you please let her know I stopped by?"

"Sure, man. Who are you?" I felt like an ass, but I would play it off.

"I'm Ashton Sullivan. Sarah and I work together."

"Oh! Is this for work, I can go get her!" I couldn't resist.

"No, it was personal. I don't want to take away from your evening." He looked defeated.

"Wait, aren't you that pediatrician who convinced the board to put a little more money into research for children's Leukemia?"

"One and the same," he smiled at me. I was just using the information I'd gathered when I researched Sarah's hospital.

"That is amazing, congratulations!"

"Thank you. I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."

"I'm Wes Dalton."

"Nice to meet you Wes. What do you do?"

"Personal security, mostly."

"Interesting. Good money in personal security gigs?"

"Most of the time, yeah," I said carefully. "I'm a bit of an adrenaline junky and enjoy the riskier positions," I finished and took in his shocked expression. "Have a good evening Mr. Sullivan." Stepping back into the house, I closed the door behind me. Leaving him on the stoop.

Doors closed at the same time. His car door and her bedroom door shut and my attention turned to the hall.

The top she had on was flowy and suited her. "Gorgeous," I complimented.

Her shy smile melted my insides. For the longest time, she never got confirmation that she was beautiful so she had dissolved into believing it wasn't true.

"So where are you taking me?"

"It's a surprise. Are you ready?"

"Sure. Let me grab my wallet." She disappeared for a moment before reemerging with a small clutch. "Hey, I could have sworn I heard you talking to someone, was there someone at the door?"

"Yeah, but no worries, I took care of it."

"Thanks, I think." With a smirk, she walked past me and out the door.

The best part of New Orleans, for me, was the food. I took Sarah to my favorite cajun hot spot in the French Quarter and had plans to continue the exquisite food into the late evening.

Over dinner, she opened up about her job at the hospital, her void with her family, and smaller side conversations. It was abundantly clear to me that she was still keeping her distance and I hated it.

Sarah had put up so many walls and barriers to keep people out, that I was working hard to have her open up to me. Once she opened one small piece of herself, it always felt she quickly secured another part of herself to avoid the nearness and intimacy of letting me get close to her.

She threw her head back in laughter as we stepped out onto the street. It was a sound I had missed hearing. Even in the short time I'd been in New Orleans, with her, she barely laughed.

I took the opportunity to slide my hand into hers and although she glanced down, she didn't pull away. We walked together until we reached Cafe du Monde, my personal favorite and one of the most well-known beignets and coffee shops in the French Quarter.

"Dessert?" I asked her as I indicated across the street.

"Wes," she groaned as she rubbed her stomach. "I don't think I can eat another bite."

"Fine, I'll eat and you can drink coffee." Pulling her into the quaint but bustling cafe, we sat and were waited on quickly. I'd ordered their beignets and she ordered their specialty coffee.

As soon as the plate of the fried dough, covered in powdered sugar, arrived her eyes widened and she moaned. I should have expected it. She loved food as much as I did, but the front of my jeans grew uncomfortably tight at the silken sounds she made as she looked at the food before me.

"Those look so good!"

"They are delicious. It's too bad you have no more room for anything more." I took a bite of the warm, sweetened cloud of dough. Suddenly distracted by my food, I tried to ignore the look Sarah was giving me.

The last time I had been in Louisiana, let alone New Orleans, was close to three years prior. One thing about the area that I missed the most was the food and energy. There was almost always music playing somewhere that could be heard on the street.

Sarah watched as I enjoyed my bliss.

"Okay, I wanna bite," she declared.

"It's too bad you only ordered coffee. With as busy as they are tonight, you may have to wait—"

"Fuck that," she whispered.

Standing from her chair, she leaned across the table giving me the distraction of her cleavage. She grabbed my wrist and guided my hand, still holding a partially eaten beignet, to the warmth of her mouth. Another moan. Her small tongue darted out to lick between my fingers.

Fuck me!

She settled back into her seat, eyes closed as she enjoyed my beignet. Clueless to how she was affecting me.

"I need more," she finally said before grabbing a small plate and her fork to claim more.

Picking my jaw out of my lap, I recovered with, "One condition."

"What's that?" She tilted her head and gave me a sassy smirk.

Behind Sarah, men had entered wearing earpieces. Instantly diverting my attention, I forgot to answer her.

They did a visual and then physical sweep of the restaurant before their employers walked through the doorway. The ladies were both wearing casual attire and it was clear they were out for a treat after a nasty week.

Watching as the little girl exploded into a fit of laughter was a welcome sight to see. I nodded to one of the men assigned to them and he nodded back. As the mother and daughter took a seat, the daughter glanced around her suddenly, nervous eyes found mine and lit up.

"Mr. Dalton," she mouthed. We were too far away for me to hear her, but I realized she had said it aloud when her mother turned to look in the same direction of her daughter.

"Fine, don't talk to me. I'll help myself." Sarah stabbed her fork into one of the sugary pillows and began to bring it back to herself.

"Damn Sarah, a little eager?" I snatched the beignet from her fork.

"You make them look so much better than they did on the plate," she teased. Leaning forward to chase my receding hand.

She opened her mouth and moaned that she was ready. My body came alive with the want and the need for hers. I knew exactly what she could do with her mouth and every sensation she had caused me. Instinctually, I offered it to her.

She didn't stop. She devoured the entire thing with me holding it. Her tongue took the last of it from between my fingers and my body burned with desire. Sucking the sugar from my thumb and pointer fingers, I swelled. As her dark lashes lifted, I noticed movement behind her again.

"Know them?" Sarah asked as she turned in her seat.

"I do," I said. Keeping my answer short, I hoped she wouldn't ask many questions. I took my job seriously and there was a certain amount of anonymity to my work. It was a respect for the families, too, and easier on me to keep details out of it.

The thing I didn't expect was for the little girl to come flying out of her chair, seconds after seeing me. Followed and stopped by the large men who were there to protect her and her mother. As she approached our table, she squealed as one guard lifted her up. It was understandable, they didn't know me or Sarah.

Her mother was quick to follow and reassured the man that we were not a threat. Allowing the small girl down, the man stepped back and apologized. I didn't think he had anything to apologize about, he was doing his job, but it wasn't my place to say anything.

"Evening Mrs. Riviere," I stood and greeted her. Thankfully at that moment that Sarah had eaten from my left hand and not my right, I extended my hand to her.

"Oh, please," she waved her hands to indicate that I stay seated, "I don't want us to bother you on your date."

Glancing at Sarah, who was now standing with a starstruck expression, I said, "You're not a bother in the least. Are you ladies out for a sweet treat before bed?" I glanced down at the child who smiled up at me with an eye squinting grin.

"They have the very best beignets in all of Louisiana," she exclaimed.

"That they do," I agreed. "It is good to see you smiling, Cora."

"Why are you here? Aren't you supposed to be resting, Mr. Dalton?" Her eyes scanned my torso and stomach.

I hadn't been conscious for here drop-off and I don't remember much of the boat ride either, but I was surprised she knew where I'd been injured. I thought I had kept it under wraps, for the most part.

"Aren't you supposed to be having tea parties with your dolls? You should be relaxing as well, sweet pea."

"But that's boring," she groaned, causing a laugh amongst the adults. "I want to do what you do, Mr. Dalton." I glanced up at her mother who looked amused and annoyed at the same time.

"I think you," bending down to be at her eye level, "little lady, should follow your dreams and respect your parents. I'm sure there are other things you could do that would be safer and wouldn't keep your momma worried all the time."

"Is your momma worried all the time?" Her question made me smile, but the answer was hard to put into words a child might understand.

"My momma did worry for a long time, but she is one of my guardian angels now. I know she is proud of me because I do my job well and I help a lot of people."

"See momma," Cora turned, but held her hand out to display me, "I want to help a lot of people like Mr. Dalton."

I gave her mother a bashful smirk. Kids and their way of thinking, I thought to myself.

"Who are you?" Cora had turned to Sarah who was smiling at our conversation.

"How rude of me, Mrs. and Miss Riviere, this is Dr. Sarah Gilmore. Dr. Gilmore, these are the senator's, lovely ladies." I placed my hand at Sarah's back and urged her to come save me from making the senator's daughter a future gun-for-hire.

"I thought I recognized the name," Sarah smiled and I could see her best bed-side manner coming to the surface. "It is a pleasure to meet you both." Shaking hands, Sarah beamed back at them.

"Dr. Gilmore, at New Orleans General?" Mrs. Riviere asked and Sarah nodded. As she spoke again, Mrs. Riviere knelt down to speak to her daughter, "Cora, this is the doctor that saved Granddaddy. Remember when he wasn't feeling well and the doctor found something wrong with his heart? This is that doctor. I'm sure she helps a lot of people, too."

Cora looked up at Sarah with admiration before wrapping herself around Sarah's legs. "Thank you! Thank you so much!"

"I was just doing my job," Sarah replied so selflessly.

With a scoff, Mrs. Riviere replied, "You did what the other doctors couldn't. My father is still alive because you ran the tests the others said were pointless. Thank you."

I could see the emotion in Sarah's face as she held back the best she could. She knew who they were talking about, but it wasn't uncommon for Sarah to think differently than the doctors and nursing staff who had only got training from school. Sarah had lived through so much. She learned medicine through the streets, first. When she pursued it as a career, she was mocked for her out of the box thinking. Eventually, it muted her voice. If she did something that wasn't by the book, she didn't talk about it first, she acted. Some called her reckless, but she had a higher survival rate than most of her colleagues.

Mrs. Riviere noticed that Sarah had gotten quiet and only added, "Cora, you could be a doctor like Dr. Gilmore. She saves peoples' lives." With a wink and a smile, she gave her daughter a hug.

We said our goodbyes and they went back to their table as we settled back into our seats.

"Are you alright?" I asked as I gathered Sarah's hands in mine.

"I'm okay, just not used to being praised like that. Any complements, for that matter."

A doorway I'd opened a long time ago in Sarah's high walls and impenetrable fortress, reopened. She hated complements and praise because she didn't know how to accept it.

As soon as she realized what she had admitted, she stiffened and became silent. Shit.

"Do you wanna get out of here?" I suggested.

Without a word, she nodded. We got mugs and beignets to go. Too good to pass up, she eyed the passing servers as I was about to pay. I knew we needed more for later.

As we pulled into her drive, she touched my arm and said, "We need to talk. Can you please come in?"

"I can do that. Is everything alright?" I didn't let her see it, but I hated the serious tone in her voice. I'm almost positive that 'we need to talk' meant 80% bad news, with the 20% being a possibility for half-decent conversation.

"Yeah, just need to talk to you."

She snatched the to-go bag and walked to the door. Without another word, she unlocked the door, headed in, and put the food on the table.

As I approached her, she side-stepped into the hall. Gathering her words, she finally spoke.

"Listen Wes," her eyes were on my chest as she chewed on the side of her bottom lip.

"Yes, Sarah?"

"I need to know what you want from me. I have finally figured out my life and what I want, but then you... I just need to know what you want from me."

"I want you. Whatever you're willing to give me. You've been through so much and I will never push you. All I know is that we worked before, I just want the opportunity to be yours and you be mine."

"I just," another pause as her eyes slowly made their way up to mine, "I just want to take things slow. I can't afford to be reckless."

"I can do slow," I took a step closer to her and she stepped back.

"What I mean is that I want—"

"What is it that you want, Sarah?" I took another step and her back met the wall of her hallway.

"You," it came out as a puff from her lips. "I mean I don't, I do, but I want to take things slowly. Start over, okay?" Sorting through her words as they came out of her mouth, she had slowly regained her courage and I couldn't help but smile.

"Are you done?"

"What? Yes, I'm done but you didn't answer my—"

Threading my fingers through her hair at the back of her neck, I brought her mouth to mine. Her mouth was soft as I slowly urged her to press further. The intoxicating smell of her skin made my body burn for hers. I felt her hands grip at my shirt as she pulled me closer and accepted my kiss. Supple and warm, I missed this.

Nothing about our kiss was rushed. I needed her trust to be able to move forward.

If Sarah would have me, I would be needing to look for another job. Closer to her. Less travel and away time, and preferably less dangerous.