White Chocolate Cherry: A Red Hot and BOOM! Story Page 2

  “I know.” She reached over, patting me on the knee. “Have you put together the list of things you want from the statue god-man?”

  Until now, I hadn’t given it much thought. I knew, in that moment, there was no doubt. “I want a man who I can come home to after a day like today will be. To make me feel loved and wrapped in warmth that I can take with me to a job where I report on horrors and atrocities humans shouldn’t be capable of.”

  “That was beautiful.” She sniffed.

  I glanced at her. “Shut up.”

  “No, I mean it. It summed up your relationship with Jorge, it’s my marriage, too.” She was crying.

  “Thanks.” That’s what I needed and wanted. A smoking hot body wouldn’t hurt either, although, with a Viviana sculpture, that was guaranteed.

  My mind wandered through my favorite flavors in chocolate. I knew Viviana’s Adonis was milk chocolate. Another woman, a local bartender, got a lighter skinned man. Their beach wedding made the local papers. I wanted to keep my man a secret.

  My man. I really thought that.

  How strange to think of a statue, sitting in someone else’s home, as my man? Hope fluttered past me, and I grabbed on with both hands.

  The wreck site proved awful, the air filled with scents of gas, tire rubber, and blood. Florida’s afternoon thunderstorms ran up to tropical storm wind speeds. Trees on the sides of the road bent with the wind. It would take the worst of the death smells and disperse it away from humans. Vultures circled above, waiting for us to leave them something for an early dinner.

  Stepping out of the van after Amy parked on the shoulder, I fought an urge to throw up. Nerves weren’t going to take me out of the game. This was my job, one I was proud of, and today, someone needed me.

  “Good afternoon, ladies.” A new EMT strolled up beside us with his testosterone flaring. Wavy brown hair blew in the wind. He stared at me, then Amy with piercing blue eyes, wriggling his eyebrows for full effect, his walk—more of a saunter—to impress the ladies standing around. This obviously worked for him in the nightclubs. He didn’t expect the ripple of laughter from the experienced news crews.

  “Keep moving, stud. We’re spoken for.” Amy turned the camera on. He blew a kiss strolling away, shooting one look over his shoulder to make sure we watched.

  “First timer.” We’d seen it before. His first mass casualty scene. He’d be barfing on the side of the road soon. “Ten minutes.”

  Amy laughed. “That ego? Twenty minutes.”

  There were four other news crews there, all familiar faces. They nodded in recognition as we approached. I heard a child’s cry. It ripped through me. Please, God. The faces of my own children appeared in my memory, small crying faces pleading for me to take the pain away. I still knew when they were upset, a mother’s instinct.

  The EMT strutted up to a car, posing for the cameras on the way. He leaned in to reach for the child. Seconds ticked past, the child’s cries muffled as he filled the window. He emerged with a small toddler, the smirk on his face replaced with ashen horror. Putting the toddler down, he barfed right there.

  “You win,” Amy whispered behind me.

  The toddler walked over to him, patted him on the head, and said, “It’ll be okay.” She couldn’t be more than two years old.

  I heard myself gasp before I realized I’d made a noise. To hell with protocol. I reached for the police tape to get to the child and found a fellow reporter holding it down for me. Running to her, I heard a scream that frightened me. The baby started crying as I picked her up.

  She turned to me. “Mommy’s yelling.” Oh, God. I knew this child. I only hoped her mother, my boss’ daughter, would survive.

  The rush of police and rescue almost crushed us as they mobilized. A female EMT stood next to me inspecting the baby for wounds, washing the blood from her tiny legs. She didn’t have a cut on her. The safety seat kept her from getting scratched.

  I spent one harsh hurricane season with my kids in snowsuits and the air conditioning on blizzard, figuring that what the seat didn’t protect, the sausage=like insulation of the suits would. My kids still tease me about it. Yet, last week, I noticed they weren’t in the linen closet anymore. Seems my grandchildren were wearing them now.

  “You son of a bitch, I’m stuck.” The news director’s daughter was still conscious. I knew her voice from holiday parties. Looking over at Amy, she understood, pulling her phone from her pocket.

  The Jaws of Life took two hours to free her. Both legs were broken and she had a nasty gash across her stomach, but she’d live. No one died. The officers walked around shaking their heads in disbelief. They didn’t say the words out loud, just in case.

  I walked over to Amy, describing the scene for our audience. The baby in my arms pulled on my earrings. Under any other circumstance, I would’ve kept the child off air, but I wanted her grandfather, and his family, to see she was okay.

  The director arrived, face covered in tears, to accompany his daughter in the ambulance. I hadn’t moved, only rocked back and forth as the baby fell asleep in my arms. Her father showed up in time to kiss his wife, as she was loaded in the back. I handed him his daughter. The baby didn’t wake up, cooing as she snuggled into his neck.

  “Thank you, Julia. We owe you.” He’d met me twice.

  “My pleasure.” I’d missed this—making a difference in the roughest moments of someone’s life.

  My heart filled with love and compassion. Clothes streaked with blood, I walked back to Amy who’d filmed the entire thing.

  “I need a shower.” I patted her on the shoulder.

  She wrinkled her nose. “You stink.”

  “Thanks.” I’d been paying attention to the child, not my appearance.

  “You’re back.” Smacking me on the shoulder, she popped open my door than made her way to the back to stow away the gear.

  I was. “Yeah.”

  The ride home took a while as we avoided the associated traffic delays. A hot shower rinsed the day from my body. My phone screen was filled with text messages from my sons.

  Carlos wrote, “Mom, I saw you on television holding that baby girl. You looked healthier and happier than I’ve seen you in months. Only my mother could glow standing in front of a freeway pileup. Love you, C.”

  I called him. He picked up on the second ring. “Aren’t you serving dessert now?” It was seven in the evening, and the restaurant’s dinner rush started at four.

  “I’m on the balcony watching the sky change colors.”

  “Your sous chef shouting at the cooks again?”

  “I swear, Mom. Her voice could replace our meat grinder.” He tried to laugh it off, but it seemed to bother him. He was the kind, gentle boss, which forced the rest of his staff into the disciplinary role.

  “You have to take charge, hijito. She will back off if you take over. Just think of how little stress you’ll have in the kitchen with less shouting.”

  He sighed. We’d had this talk before. “I know, Mama. You looked great out there today.” He made kissing noises and hung up.

  My youngest. I cried so hard when he went to culinary school that he chose a campus close to home. Jorge would tease me that my umbilical cord refused to give up on the last one. Carlos was born premature, and I’d wanted to ask the doctors if they could open me up, put him back in, and wait until he could survive on his own. It would’ve been easier than seeing a child, smaller than a doll, hooked up to the machines in the neonatal intensive care unit.

  He pulled through. The end of the first week, he’d gained a pound. I was convinced Jorge snuck him restaurant food when I wasn’t looking. The nurses enjoyed the meals we brought in each day to thank them for keeping our boy alive over those endless nights. A month later, he was home. Maribel was a teenager then and took to carrying him around the house.

  I never found a better babysitter. She took her mothering role seriously. Now, she had three children of her own. According to her biological mother’s family,
they had to bribe her into putting down her own children.

  Chapter Three

  Settled in front of the television, vainly watching myself on every news channel, I fell asleep. The doorbell woke me to find the morning sun streaming through the east-facing wall of windows overlooking the pool. The story had been featured on every channel. Even competitors showed me holding the child while her mother was removed from the car.

  Standing on my porch was Viviana, her lover, Adonis, and a covered statue.

  “Your Candy Man is ready. Are you?” Viviana winked at me. She’d done work for us before. We had six statues in the house that she’d sculpted. Her reputation was stellar.

  “I hope so.” Stepping back, I waved them into the foyer. The open living, dining, kitchen space was huge, with cathedral ceilings. Our entire lives were lived in this space.

  “Good answer,” her Adonis answered.

  Damn, he was hot. Wearing jeans that left little to the imagination, he strolled past me. I realized I was turned on.

  Viviana stood next to her work. Adonis pulled the cover off with a flourish to reveal a stunning man.

  “Marble?” He was white with dark streaks running through him.

  She shook her head. “White chocolate with cherry swirls.”

  It was the flavor of my childhood. A secret I had with my mother. “How?”

  “Eros delivers the block, Julia. I’m guessing it’s one you like?” She had to see the pure joy on my face.

  “Yes. It was a secret.”

  “We’ll keep it with you.” Adonis smiled, slipping his arm around her waist.

  She handed me a small velvet bag. “Picture your true happiness, ask for what you want, and then sprinkle this on him.”

  Turning to face the statue, I barely heard Viviana and Adonis close the front door. Pulling up a kitchen stool, I inspected him. He had short-cropped hair and chiseled cheekbones. Around the back, his ass was perfect. I smacked it a couple of times, laughing to myself.

  Then I made my way around front. He was about six foot tall so my vantage point was perfect. Right in my eye line was the perfect chest flanking a trail of short hair traveling down to an amazing penis.

  I laughed. “That’s not real.” Of course, it wasn’t.

  “What I want is....” I paused. Taking a deep breath, I continued. “A man to hold me at the end of the day, sheltering me from the brutality I see in the world. A gentleman who will never forget I’m special, even when I fart.” Laughing, the words rolled off my tongue. “Supportive of everything I do without worshipping me. You must be good with children. I have six of them, and eight grandchildren. They have to trust you with me.”

  I pictured me happy and content as I sprinkled the dust over his body. I made sure to rub some between his legs. No way was I going to take a chance his dick didn’t activate or something.

  Standing back to make sure I didn’t miss a spot, I heard a moan. My nether regions answered. Well, this would be interesting. He began to glow; light shone from his body in white sparkles with tinges of red. My chocolate statue came to life in front of me. It was beautiful. I checked to make sure his penis came to life. It did, jumping as I watched.

  “Oh!” Snapping my eyes up to his face, I saw a huge smile filled with perfect teeth. Green eyes. Oh my, standing was going to be difficult in a moment.

  “Is that the part of me you wish to play with first?” His voice rumbled, low and strong. There was a slight accent.

  “One of them, yes.” The words came out before I could stop them. Placing my hands over my mouth, I attempted to keep that from happening again.

  “Good.” He stretched his arms above his head.

  Oh my, perfection smelled like chocolate-covered cherries.

  I mumbled into my hands. He reached over, gently pulling them away.

  “I think I’m drooling.”

  He leaned down, close enough for me to smell his hair. Cherry blossoms. “Yes, I believe you are. Would you like me to lick it?”

  My knees buckled. A little. “Lick what?”

  “You have a preference?”

  “Many.” Brazen, thy name was Julia.

  “Where would you like to start?” his voice rumbled.

  I glanced down quickly. His penis stood erect, pointing right at me. “Um.”

  “I’m real, Julia. I won’t melt in your mouth, not literally. Would you like me to choose?”

  Yes, my brain screamed. What came out was more mature. “You need clothes.”

  “Already?” He was disappointed, even sticking out a pouty lip.

  “Oh no. I’m going to talk to you first. Whoever you are.” I was back in control. That meant being an adult about it.

  “You name me.”

  “What?”

  “You can name me.”

  “Aren’t you a god?” I remember that from Viviana’s note.

  He grinned. “You wish to know my god name?”

  “Is that a problem? I don’t want to rename you if you already have a name.” My voice cracked.

  He leaned over, taking my face in his hands. “I’m Anteros. Brother to Eros. You can name me whatever you choose. I’m here, by my own choice, as your lover for your lifetime.”

  “My lifetime?” It hit me. “You’re immortal.”

  He traced my chin with his fingers, leaving a trail of cherry-scented tingles. “Yes, beautiful Julia, I’m immortal.”

  “You’ll watch me grow old and die.” Suddenly, this sounded like a bad idea.

  He nodded, kissing my nose. “As you humans do all the time.”

  “I didn’t think this through. You will watch me die. How can I do that to someone after what I went through? If you truly learn to love me, your heart will shatter, like mine did, and then what? I have years to get moving or lose the rest of my life to mourning. You can mourn for centuries.” When did I develop that ego? Remember me for centuries? I was babbling.

  “Yes. Our passion and love will be remembered forever. Tales of the human women who Eros chose to be loved by gods will be told for millennia. You’re special. Even though I will not mourn you for centuries, I will remember you for all time.”

  That was a twist I didn’t expect. “Forever?”

  “In human terms, yes.” He kissed my nose again.

  I lifted my face, kissing his lips. He tasted like chocolate cherries. The moan erupted from three years of repressed need.

  He picked me up in his arms. I wasn’t ready for this yet. “Wait.”

  “That’s new.” He snickered.

  I laughed. “Women don’t tell you to wait?”

  “No.” He looked confused.

  I thought it was funny. “Put me down, Anteros.”

  He fought to keep a rejected look from his face. It didn’t work. “Was I wrong about you?”

  “I don’t know. I want to know you before I sleep with you.” It sounded ridiculous to me. Yet, a voice in my head wouldn’t let this go. “What are you like, your favorite color, how’s your family?” Seemingly innocuous questions to slow down the race to the bedroom.

  “Ah.” His face lit up. “You want to know the man you’re bedding?”

  That was a crude way to put it. “Yes.”

  “I’m old. Human recorded history doesn’t go back to my birth. My entire existence is returning love. I’m angered when love is offered and not accepted. It’s such a precious gift.” His eyes glazed over.

  He wasn’t blowing smoke. Every word he said could be ripped from a cheesy love song, but he truly believed it.

  I felt breathless. “That’s wonderful.”

  “All life is so complicated now.” He gestured to the back yard.

  I followed his tight ass to the pool. The thought of him inside of me made my knees wobble. I’d called a halt to the act, but my hormones were screaming for relief with every glance at his body.

  “May I?” He gestured to the hot tub.

  “Of course.” I sat on the edge. “What did they tell you about me?”


  “Nothing. I watched you.”

  “Watched me?” I ran over the events of the past two days in mind. “When?”

  “I saw you hold that little girl in your arms for hours while they rescued her mother.”

  “I can’t believe she survived.” Even the paramedics were sure she’d been dead when they arrived.

  He smiled. “She didn’t.”

  I looked at his face. For a statue just come to life, there were multitudes of emotions flitting across his face.

  It hit me. “You saved her.”

  “Yes.” He was proud, deservedly so.

  “For me?”

  “No. Don’t take this wrong, but I saved her for her daughter. I wouldn’t have known about it if you weren’t there, so you did play a part.” He looked pained.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I lost someone millennia ago in a battle. Our child grew up without a mother. She had many aunts and uncles, and enough love to fill Olympus. There’s no replacement for a mother.”

  I got a god with a backstory. Eros knew me. The mothering side of me kicked in. “I’ll be back in a moment.” I stepped inside the sliding glass doors to my bedroom. Stripping off my clothes, I changed into a bikini. I bought it last year but never wore it. The turquoise blue was my favorite color.

  He was swimming in the pool when I came back out, muscles rippling as he executed a perfect flip turn. He hadn’t heard me. My phone rang. I picked up it inside, heading back to the pool.

  I knew the number. “Hello, Amy.”

  “Don’t hate me.” She blurted.

  I couldn’t. “What did you do?”

  “I saw the delivery truck.” A stage whisper was quieter.

  I looked at the back gate; she wasn’t there. “Are you spying on me?”

  “No, dammit, and it’s killing me.”

  I laughed. She had to be outside, pacing.

  Anteros stopped. “You have a lovely laugh.”

  “Is that him?” She shouted so loud, I pulled the phone away from my ear.

  “Yes, that’s him.”

  He raised an eyebrow at me.

  “Amy, my best friend. Not seeing you is driving her nuts.”