Page 30 of Resolution

“That doesn’t make it right.” I felt my eyes getting hot. “And I don’t want it for you. You’re the best man I know.” I pulled him into my arms and rested my cheek against his. “I love you.” I turned my face and kissed him behind the ear so I’d stop shaking. “It isn’t fair.”

He patted me on the back. “It’s okay, Raven. It could have been much worse. I promise I’m fine.”

“I hate it.”

I held him for a few more seconds before letting go and stepping back. His eyes were kind,beautiful,and kind. It was beyond my understanding how anyone could make a snap judgment based on the color of someone’s skin. Then again, one of the reasons I kept my hair short was because I’d seen how some of the men on the rez had been treated. One of the guys I’d gone to high school with had been beaten up in a gas station bathroom. The fuckers had cut his long hair while laughing at him. As usual, Miguel was right. There was just so much injustice in the world. “Take a hot bath while I make you a big bowl of soup.”

He flashed me a grin. “Tomato, okay?”

I nodded. “I knew you were gonna say that. One big bowl of tomato soup, coming up.”

I was just pulling our grilled cheese sandwiches and soup off the stove when Miguel walked into the kitchen half an hour later. He wore a pair of plaid sleeping pants and a black tank top. His hair was still damp, and I could smell the clean scent of soap on him from here. I smiled at him. I loved him more than I could say. He smiled back, padding across the kitchen floor in soft moccasins which matched the ones I wore. He pulled me into his arms, and I lifted my face for a kiss. It was soft and sweet, a melding of lips, making me feel weak in the knees. I forced myself to pull back a minute later.

“Come on, baby. Your grilled cheese is gonna get cold.”

He grinned. “I thought I smelled buttery goodness. What kind of cheese is that?”

I plated up both sandwiches. “Smoky gouda.”

“The one we got from the farmer’s market?”

“The very one.” I put both plates on the table in our cozy, little kitchen nook and grabbed a pair of Fiestaware bowls, filling them with tomato, basil soup. It was the kind that came in a can, but Miguel loved it. I made sure to pair it with his favorite sandwich made with his favorite cheese. I wasn’t trying to be health conscious at the moment. I just wanted him to feel better and there’s nothing like a big bowl of comfort food for that. I watched him slide gingerly into the booth and then brought the soup over, setting it down before sliding in beside him.

He put his arm around me and pulled me close, kissing me softly before pulling away. “Do you know how much I love you, Raven?”

I smiled, letting my gaze roam all over his face. “I love you too, baby.” I flicked my fingers encouragingly at his food a couple of times and nodded. “Now, eat your dinner. You hardly ate anything in the hospital at all.”

Miguel snorted, picking up his sandwich, taking a huge bite. His eyes rolled back in his head as he chewed. “That’s because the hospital cafeteria doesn’t have smoky gouda or canned soup made with love.”

I laughed, picking up my own sandwich and dunking it in the soup.

After the meal, Miguel went to the bedroom to search for the muscle relaxant his hospital physician had given him to layer with the pain medication he was taking. He’d been told that the combination of the non-narcotic pain relievers would work better than strictly Tylenol and Advil alone. I was finishing up the dishes when the doorbell rang. I dried my hands and walked out of the kitchen as Miguel came down the hall.

“Were you expecting anyone?” I asked.

He shook his head. “No.” We walked to the front door together, opening it to find Cassidy and Mike on the doorstep.

“Hey, what are you two doing here?” Miguel asked, shaking their hands. “Come in.”

I smiled at them as they walked in. “What’s going on, guys?”

“We wanted to talk to you if that’s okay,” Cassidy said. “Only if you’re feeling up to it, though.”

“I’m fine,” Miguel replied. “A little sore is all.”

We walked into the living room. “Sit down. I’ll make some coffee,” I said.

“Thanks, Raven.”

I padded off to the kitchen and got the coffee going before heading back into the living room. Cassidy and Mike sat on the couch, and Miguel had taken a cushioned club chair. When he turned and smiled at me, I walked over and perched on the chair’s arm, wrapping my arm around his shoulders.

“What’s going on?”

“Cassidy and Mike have taken over the investigation into the shooting at Trader Joe’s,” Miguel said. “They came here with follow up questions.”

“Big guns,” I said, smiling at them.

“Yeah, the captain in Hollywood isn’t happy, but since our captain in Brentwood has a bigger dick, we win,” Mike said.

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