I finally asked the real question I wanted to know, “Do you think Tennyson and I could work?”
She shrugged and looked right into my eyes, “It depends on how much you love him.”
I nodded and said very softly, “I love him a lot.”
"It will work when you love him so much you don't feel like you're giving up anything because you can't breathe if you're not with him," Bethany said as she stood.
“Thanks,” I said, and watched her leave. I pulled a pillow into my arms and stretched out on the couch. I thought I would spend the evening at the dance or in Tennyson’s bed. I had no idea I would spend it alone wondering where he was.
I eventually fell asleep and woke up to someone kissing me lightly. “Russell Tarwater, is that you?” I moaned like I was still asleep.
“I’ll be back, I have to go commit murder,” Tennyson said, and I quickly grabbed his shirt.
“I missed you all night,” I said sadly.
“I’m sorry, I owe you big time, so name your price,” he said as he kissed my fingers.
I gazed into his eyes and smiled, “If you need me to go, Tenn, I understand.”
He shook his head and said, “Please, stay.”
"I'll stay if you remove your shirt," I whispered and watched his eyes darken a bit. He began unbuttoning his shirt, and I watched his fingers move expertly across the fabric. "Hum…the boots need to go, too." He stood and removed each boot along with his socks, and I gave him a look of pity, "Sorry, but the pants have to go, also." He removed his jeans and stood only in his boxers, so I held my hand out for him. He took it and pulled me off the couch before running his hands down my body.
"Tell me how you want me, Jules," he said into my ear. I let my head fall back, and he kissed my exposed neck sensuously until I moaned from pleasure. "Tell me," he said again.
“Make me scream,” I said, completely out of my mind from his kisses.
He picked me up off the floor into his arms and carried me into the bedroom. He was so tender and moved slowly as he made me scream his name, twice. My entire body was shaking as he enveloped me in his arms and said, “Do you feel my love for you?”
“God, yes,” I told him.
“I’m so glad you came here,” he said into my hair.
“I don’t know if I will be able to leave,” I admitted.
“That’s my next wish,” he whispered.
“What were you doing tonight that took you from my arms?” I asked him.
“Someone posted a training session with Diablo.”
My heart froze, and I pulled back to look at him. "But, you're ahead, why would you ride him?"
“I’m not ahead enough to guarantee a win. If Tarwater rides him, I would automatically lose.”
“Did you learn a way to ride him?” I asked.
He smiled widely and shook his head. “I think I did.”
“Without having to suicide wrap?”
“I never do that,” he said, and I smacked him. I knew it was something he would never admit to doing.
“Is Royal going to be there?”
“He wants to be, but I don’t need him,” Tennyson said confidently. “Can you be there?”
I wanted to tell him it would be unprofessional to request a day off when we were already sold out, but I couldn’t force myself to say it so I only shrugged and said I would check on it.
He finally asked the hard question, “So, when do you have to leave?”
“I have to leave before noon on Monday,” I said sadly.
He didn't respond, and I kissed his bare chest. We lay there in silence, and I eventually heard him lightly snoring. I dreaded going back to New York City and knew I would miss him every night as I lay alone in my bed. I thought about what Bethany said and how I would know it would work when I didn’t feel I was giving up anything. I wondered if I was getting close to that place.
I woke up the next morning to the feel of Tennyson making rapid jerking movements. I looked at his face to see he was still asleep and laughed at how he even rode in his sleep. I took a piece of my hair and ran it across his lips causing him to react automatically by throwing his arm in front of his face, hitting me right in the nose.
“Ah, shit,” I yelled, as I grabbed my bloody noise with both hands. Tennyson jumped up and stared at me in shock. “You hit me,” I yelled.
“Oh, God, I didn’t mean to,” he said, as he grabbed a towel and leaned my head back.
“It hurts,” I cried, and he pulled my hands away to look at my nose.
"It doesn't appear to be broken. Let me get some ice." He rushed from the room and came back with an ice pack from a first aid kit.
“Does it look bad?” I asked him.
“Um…can they add a prison fight into the show?”
"Dammit; I'm going to be fired from my job," I cried louder.
Tennyson remained quiet, and I glared at him. "Sorry, but my wishes seem to be coming true," he laughed.
I stayed on the bed until the bleeding stopped and I finally got up to look at my nose in the mirror. It had a substantial swollen bump on the bridge, and one eye looked like it was going to turn black. "Tennyson, look at my face," I yelled at him.
"I think you're still beautiful," he said to anger me.
“I can hardly breathe,” I said, being overly dramatic.
"You have blood coagulating, grab some tissue and blow it out," he instructed, obviously a pro at bloody noses.
“That’s disgusting,” I said with a nasal voice.
“Either that or it’s going down your throat,” he said with a smirk.
I began to cry, and Tennyson held me gently, "Come on, Sweetheart, blow in this," he instructed, holding some tissue.
“I’m afraid,” I said truthfully.
“It’s not going to hurt, come on,” he pushed.
I blew and felt a blood clot leave my nose as I shivered from disgust. Tennyson didn't flinch at all and quickly brought more tissue to my nose. "Okay, we're going to have to do this all over again in a few minutes." My eyes got wide, and he kissed my forehead before saying, "Its normal, Jules."
After half an hour of blowing and clotting it stopped, and I stared at my ugly face in the mirror. "I wanted to have crazy sex before I had to go, not have you wipe my nose like a child."
"Come here," he said with a chuckle and led me back to the bed.
He sat against the headboard and pulled me to sit between his legs with my back against his chest. He ran his fingers down my arms, and I instantly relaxed. He leaned over to kiss my shoulder and began speaking softly.
"The first time I laid eyes on you I thought you were so beautiful, you were mad as hell, and when I sat in the booth, I thought you were going to castrate me." His hands moved across my stomach and up my shirt as he continued speaking.
"I had no idea who you were, and I was shocked you didn't know who I was." One hand moved to my thigh and slid inward causing me to gasp.
"I couldn't wait to see you at the arena and tease you a bit." His fingers were moving slowly and deliberately, and I had a hard time keeping my legs still.
“When I danced with you and got to hold you in my arms, I could feel your warm body against mine.” I gasped again and cried out from what he was doing to my body.
"And when I came to the hotel and heard you scream for me; I knew what love was." I panted loudly as my body moved into his arms, building to a place where I couldn't think clearly.
“Tennyson,” I yelled.
“Scream for me, Jules.”
I arched back as my body screamed for him and he tightened his hold on me as he buried his face in my hair. I collapsed in his arms and struggled to catch my breath as he said softly in my hair, “I love you.”
I began to cry, overwhelmed by my love for him. “Tennyson,” I said with certainty, “I’m not going back.”
He froze and acted like he was afraid he was dreaming. “Jules, are you sure?”
"I've never been so sure of anything,"
I told him. "I love to sing, and I can always be happy singing. I don't want all the fake stuff in my life anymore, I want what is real, and that is you."
“I know I can make you happy,” he said with confidence. “I will work my ass off to make sure you are happy.”
I turned around and faced him, sitting on my knees. He was smiling and had tears in his eyes. “Tennyson, I want to marry you.” The words didn’t feel forced and panic didn’t fill my soul. I wanted to be attached to him in every way, even if it meant marriage.
"Are you asking me?" he laughed loudly, sure I was only emotional and would quickly backpedal.
“Yeah, I am.”
Chapter 16
I watched as his mind was working something out. He knew this was huge for me and was sure something was up. He glanced at his dresser and then glared at me. “You looked in my drawer, didn’t you?”
"No," I tried to lie, but he gave me a sideways look, and I caved. "Yes, I did, but that is not why I'm asking you."
“Because you’re afraid I’ll hit you again?” he teased.
“I’m hoping you will do what you just did again,” I said with a smirk, and he leaned up to kiss me.
“Go get it,” he said, nodding to the dresser.
I jumped off the bed and ran to the drawer and brought the box to him. “When did you buy it?”
“On my way to your house,” he smiled.
“And what made you change your mind?” I asked, wondering if it was my bed or maybe his shoes.
He looked uncomfortable and finally said, “You said you didn’t want to marry anyone.”
“Tennyson, I was speaking in generalities. I didn’t know you were asking.”
“I said, ‘marry me’ and you said, ‘I don’t plan on marrying anyone’ and I asked, ‘you don’t plan on ever marrying me’ and you said…”
“Okay, okay, stop with the eidetic memory.”
“What made you change your mind?” he asked with a serious face.
I let my eyes fall and tried to explain it the best I could. "Barton's in Florida and they wanted me to show up, and then I found out Eric's in love with an actor, and the producers want him to keep it quiet. I'm tired of love being a game. I want something real, like Bethany has." I glanced at him to see if I was making any sense at all. He was nodding as if he understood, so I continued. "But, it is not why I want to marry you specifically. I love that you make me feel safe, and you are polite and generous. I love that you can ride a vicious bull and then make love so tenderly. I love that you can take care of my bloody nose and then bring my body alive in your arms. I don't deserve you, Tennyson, but I want you."
He took my hands in his and looked at my eyes, "I love you more than I know how to express, but I saw you on that stage, and you have talent. You can't just walk away from that kind of talent. I won't let you."
“Tenn, I don…”
"Shhh, we'll go to New York together, and you can make arrangements for someone else to take over the show. You can give them proper notice, and I'll be working on finals. When we're both done, we'll get married and see where life takes us from there."
"That simple?" I asked, hoping it would turn out to be precisely that.
“No, it will be the longest weeks of my life.”
"Okay," I nodded and looked at the box he was holding in his hand.
He smiled and climbed off the bed and got on his knee to open the box, “Jules Smith, will you marry me?”
“My full name is Juliana,” I told him, and he groaned loudly.
“Juliana Smith, will you marry me?” He repeated.
"Absolutely! Since I was really the one who asked."
Tennyson slammed the box shut, and I yelled out in protest. He finally opened it and took the ring and placed it on my finger. I stared at the beautiful band and watched the diamond glisten in the light as Tennyson watched me.
“You’re going to have quite the shiner,” he said, looking closely at my eye.
“I don’t care, it was worth it,” I said, and finally looked at Tennyson.
Someone knocked on his trailer door, and he grabbed his jeans and walked alone to answer it. I could hear him talking to Morgan, but I didn't know what they were saying. I lay back on the pillows and raised my hand in the air to stare at the ring. I looked up to see Amylia watching me with swollen eyes.
I sat up, and she walked over to the bed and grabbed my hand to look at the ring. "I'm glad you're marrying my brother."
“Thank you,” I said softly. “Are you okay?”
She nodded, and more tears began to fall. "Georgia died."
“I’m sorry, Amylia.”
She took a deep breath and sat on the edge of the bed. “You must think I’m crazy,” she said.
"Not at all. I understand the relationship better now."
Her eyes narrowed, and she gave me an odd look, "What happened to your nose?" she asked.
“Is it noticeable?” I asked with dread. I could only imagine what Martin was going to say.
"You're going to have a black eye, and your nose is swollen," she answered honestly.
“Great,” I mumbled. “I learned not to startle Tennyson in his sleep.”
Amylia smiled, just slightly, and it felt better to see her not so distraught. She was usually so happy all the time, and I knew how much she must miss Georgia. I wondered what was going to happen with the deceased horse, but I didn't want to make her cry again by asking.
We sat silently for a moment. Amylia looked at the door and then leaned closer to whisper to me, “I don’t like Sarsaparilla.”
I felt my brow furrow and wondered what would make happy-go-lucky Amylia, not like her horse. He was huge and looked mean, but all horses seemed that way to me. I finally said, "Can't you sell him or something?"
“No, I mean the drink; I don’t like it, so I hate that name.”
“Can’t you change the name?”
"No, he's registered; the breeder chose his name," she said with a sigh.
“So, what? You can call him whatever you want,” I pointed out.
“No, Morgan is a stickler for that sort of thing. I think it is because he has to keep meticulous veterinary records.”
“Amylia,” I said sharply, “It is your horse; you can call him Bitch if you want. Why does Morgan get a say in what you call your horse?”
"Because I love his persnickety ass, and I never want to give him a moment of angst," she said with a smile, and I stared at her in disbelief. Surely, she was teasing me. I had a hard time believing tough-as-nails Amylia wanted to keep her man from ever being unhappy with her. It seemed so…antiquated.
“Is Morgan controlling?” I asked her, although I had never seen any evidence of that kind of behavior.
“No, not at all,” she said, as she gave me an odd look.
“Why are you guys not married yet?” I asked with curiosity.
She smiled and looked at her hands shyly causing me to grin, too. "I want to stay home and have babies when I get married. I want a lot of kids, like maybe six."
I gasped and made a weird chuckle as I shook my head. I had no idea what to say. These people were not only from another generation than me but also from an entirely different planet. I couldn't imagine living with Tennyson and having to call all six of my children by their full names.
Amylia looked at the door again and walked over quietly to shut it. She came back to the bed and sat closer to me this time. I leaned in to hear what she apparently wanted to keep quiet and she hesitated like she wasn't sure she should say something.
“What is it, Amylia?”
"Jules, I love my brothers very much. They are brave and tenacious, but sometimes they don't think things through enough." I tensed and felt she was going to ask me to leave her brother alone and let him marry someone capable of fitting into the family better. "They never ask my advice, although they give me theirs easily enough," she complained, and I chuckled. Amylia looked me right in the eyes and said, "Don't let Tennyson rid
e Diablo."
“He thinks he found a way to ride him,” I told her.
“He won’t know until he actually tries. If he gets thrown, he’ll suicide wrap. Royal knows it too; it is why he is working so hard to be at finals. He knows he needs to protect Tennyson.”
“There is nothing I can do,” I told her honestly.
Her head fell, and she refused to look at me as she said, "If you refuse to marry him if he wraps, I bet he would listen." I couldn't believe what she was suggesting. She wanted me to threaten him into not choosing Diablo. I didn't know what to say, and I sat quietly, trying to process everything. “I don’t want my brother to die,” she said softly.
“He’s wrapped before,” I pointed out. Although, I was fully aware he never admitted to doing such a thing.
"Diablo has never been ridden the full eight seconds, ever, and he has still managed to hurt many cowboys. He put one in a wheelchair and the cowboy wasn't even in the ring, Diablo was loaded into a chute when the injuries occurred."
I felt tears stinging my eyes, and I nodded with understanding. "I'll try, Amylia."
"Thank you," she said and reached over to hug me before leaving the room. "Morgan," she yelled, "Jules told me to call Sarsaparilla, Bitch."
"Tattletale," I screamed.
I waited for several minutes until Tennyson returned and I tried to smile, but it wouldn't form fully. He walked over and looked down at me as he winced. "It's getting worse; we need to get ice on your nose." He picked up the ice pack, but I shook my head.
I reached out for his hand and held it tightly. “Are you worried about riding today?”
He smiled and ran his finger under my chin, “It’s not my first rodeo.”
“Will you promise me you’ll be careful?”
“I’m always careful, Sweetheart.”
We took a shower together, and Tennyson left to strategize with Royal and Merritt. I took a picture of my face and then put on make-up as carefully as possible. I looked in the mirror at my hideous reflection and sighed loudly. I decided to get it over with, so I took the second picture with make-up and then sent them to Martin.
Jules and Bulls Page 15
