Free Consequence by Madeline Sloane

She
dressed in a pair of boxers and a T-shirt and went downstairs to
the kitchen. Morty and Squirt were happy to see her and even more
happy when she used the broom to brush the snow away from their
doggy door. “Sorry fellas. I didn’t know it was this deep,” she
apologized.
    She opted for a relaxing cup of chamomile tea
instead of the usual coffee. The last twenty-four hours had found
the world turned upside down. Day was night and night was day, most
of the hours spent in some form of lustful contact with Boone.
    She scrambled eggs and made a platter of
toast. Instead of tea, she made a cup of cocoa for Boone, then
carried the food upstairs on a tray. Kneeing the door open, she set
the tray on the foot of the bed and turned on her beside lamp. It
was a ballerina bear in a tutu. That, she decided, has to go. She
turned the bear’s face to the wall, thinking about the abandoned
sex it had already witnessed. She leaned over Boone and kissed his
ear.
    “Wake up, sleepy head. I’ve made breakfast,”
she whispered.
    She moved the tray before his stretching foot
kicked it off. Boone yawned and stretched again, then sat up in
bed.
    “Mmmmm smells good.”
    “Cheesy eggs and toast. Isn’t it amazing how
good toast smells? I’m so hungry. You must be hungry, too. I made
you a cup of cocoa. I hope that’s okay.”
    Boone smiled at her nervous chatter. He had
not been this relaxed and happy in years. It’s something she has to
work through, he told himself. He knew he wasn’t going anywhere. As
soon as she figured it out, she would be fine.
    Boone glanced out the window and saw the
snow. “Holy cow! How deep is it?”
    “The weather man said we could have two feet
by morning. I had to make a tunnel for the dogs. Their little door
was frozen shut. Poor darlings, having to hold it so long.”
    “Yeah, poor darlings,” Boone echoed, thinking
of Morty’s teeth as he chewed a piece of toast.
    “Boone. Do you still want me working the
case?”
    “Sure. Why not? Don’t you want to?”
    “Yes; I think it would make a great column,
too. I didn’t know if you wanted to mix business with pleasure. You
know what I mean,” she said, looking at the bear lamp. “I want to
make sure we stay focused on the case. That there aren’t any
distractions.”
    “You mean like this?” Boone asked, tossing
the toast aside and pinning Bridget to the bed. Seconds later, her
T-shirt followed the toast to the floor. He slipped his thumbs in
the waistband of her boxers, tugged them down her legs, then tossed
them aside. Soon, she lay naked on the bed with Boone stroking
her.
    “There,” he said. “That’s better. No
distractions.”
     
    Bridget opened a wary eye and saw Boone,
dressed and tying his boots. She stretched and yawned. “Are you
going somewhere?”
    “The orgy is over, baby. I’ve got to go to
work,” he said. Crossing the room to the bed, he sat on the side
and leaned in for kiss. Bridget tried to convince him to join her
for “a little while.”
    A rueful Boone stroked her hair. “It’s hard
for me to leave you. Why do you try to make it harder?”
    “Boone, hard is the way I like it,” she
quipped, batting her eyes at him. The texture of his clothing
against her naked, warm skin excited her. Her long, wavy hair
spread out on the pillow.
    “I know, why don’t you meet me for lunch?” he
suggested, trying to sidetrack her. “The road’s been plowed and I
radioed for one of the guys to clear your driveway. You know, since
my cruiser is here, buried under several feet of snow.”
    Bridget yawned again. “Thanks. I hate using
the snow blower. So, meet you downtown again?”
    “Sure. I have to run home first and get some
clean clothes, then I’ll drop by the station. Make sure Neil has
things under control. Wouldn’t do to find out the chief is holed up
with his woman while the town burns. Call me on my cell.”
    Boone strode out the bedroom door and clomped
down the stairs. Morty, for once, growled and