Sky's the Limit

by Elle Aycart

  “I had a boyfriend once who was crazy about firearms,” Sky explained with a shrug. “I know my way around a gun. Not these professional rifles, more like pistols and such, but I’m familiar with the basics. What’s next? Bazookas? Grenade launchers? Hand-to-hand combat? In that case, I might need to change. Designer dresses only go so far. High-end brands are sorely lacking when it comes to ammunition pockets and full range of motion. Oh, and I might need military-grade boots like yours.”

  Megan chuckled. “You’re getting into this.”

  “I am. I’ll detox on Monday when I’m back in the real world.”

  Her returning to the real world didn’t sit well with Logan, but he squished that thought.

  Baby steps.

  Or he was going to freak the fuck out.

  “Meg, we have to go,” Alec said.

  Megan nodded and stood up. “By the way, my dear brother has informed me you’ll be visiting often, so I want to officially invite you to our wedding.”

  “Really? Thank you. It will be my pleasure to attend. Can I bring a plus one?”

  “You already have a plus one, Butterfly,” Logan grumbled, tipping her head up by her chin. “Me.”

  She smiled sweetly at him. “Of course I’ll go with you. Such a nice way of asking me.” To Megan, “I was talking about Arnie. He hates staying alone.”

  No shit. As soon as Cerberus realized they were leaving without him, he’d gone to them, looking pathetic. Then the whimpering had started. Logan had no clue how good a fighter the beast might have been in his dog-fighting-ring years, but he was a world-class actor.

  “Sure, Arnie can come. No problem. As a matter of fact, I had an ulterior motive inviting you. I need someone good to help me with hair and makeup. As you can see, I’m not the image of feminine,” Megan said, pulling at her bangs.

  Alec wrapped his arms around her and kissed her. “Bullshit, Meg.”

  “Thanks, but you love me. Your opinion doesn’t count. You’re biased.”

  “Wrong,” he retorted. “My opinion is the only one that counts.”

  “I’ll be glad to help in whatever way I can,” Sky chimed in. “But I totally agree with him. You’ve got the lips, the curves, the looks. You’re as feminine as they come.”

  Megan blushed. His sister had yet to learn to accept compliments. “We’ll see you guys at bingo, right?”

  Logan looked to Sky, who hesitated. “I don’t know. I don’t like leaving Arnie alone so much, especially in a place he isn’t familiar with.”

  “Bring him,” Alec suggested. “If that crazy-ass bird Bob was allowed in, I don’t see why they’d draw the line at your dog.”

  Sky cleared her throat. “I’m not sure how Arnie will react to a talking raven.”

  “You don’t have to worry about that. Bob won’t be there. He was banned from bingo nights,” Megan said as they walked away.

  Sky turned to Logan, her eyes wide. “Really?”

  “Bob got a bit too comfortable and started imitating the voice of the person calling the numbers. It messed everybody up. He shouted false bingos too. Pissed people off like you wouldn’t believe.”

  She broke into giggles. He loved watching her laugh. “They take bingo pretty seriously.”

  “You have no idea, Butterfly.”

  “I somehow don’t see Alec playing bingo. Or you for that matter.”

  “Megan loves bingo. Alec loves Megan.” Nowadays, instead of contributing a hefty donation to whatever cause they were gathering money for and making himself scarce, Alec stuck around. “Thanks,” Logan whispered against her lips.

  “What for?”

  “For reassuring my sister.” Megan laughed it off, but she was nervous about the wedding, Logan could tell.

  Sky shrugged. “I didn’t say anything I don’t think—well, except for being ready for hand-to-hand combat. I’d rather pass on that.”

  He kissed her. “So you were serious about the grenade launchers?”

  “I’m considering it,” she said with a smirk. “Although I’d also consider passing on it if you take me to lunch.” She reached for her bag and, after rummaging in it, produced a small stick that looked like—yep, an umbrella. She pressed a button and it unfolded. “Ready to eat.”

  Smartass.

  Sky stood in front of the community center, frowning. “Are you sure Arnie can come to bingo?”

  Logan nodded, holding the door for her. “I spoke with the organizers. Heather said as long as Cerberus is wearing a muzzle, he’s welcome. Of course, donating a pair of designer stilettos as a bingo prize might have helped.”

  “I’m not sure this is a good idea.” Her poor baby looked so miserable with the muzzle on. She went to her knees and petted him. “I know, sweetie, you hate it, but this is the only option.” She got up and gave Logan the evil eye. “He’s not a rabid beast. What are they afraid of? That he’ll bite them?”

  “Honestly? I think they’re more concerned that he’ll talk.”

  Of course they were. Crazy people.

  “Come on, this way,” he said, taking her by the hand and directing her down a corridor.

  The second they entered the bingo room, Carol waved at them, signaling to two empty spots at her table, beside Megan and Alec. As they made their way to the seats, Sky glanced around, taken aback. The place was buzzing with movement. “Is everybody here?”

  “Pretty much.”

  Shayna was there with Alberta and Sierra from the bowling team. Ty. Adam. Astrid from the restaurant, and her husband. Pam and Netta, sitting with two men. Their husbands, probably. The ladies of the pandemic squad. The Unabomber crew. Barnie. Other people she didn’t recognize but who knew Logan, because they all nodded in greeting.

  No one gave Arnie a second look. Logan holding her hand, however, seemed to warrant their complete attention. Feeling awkward, she tried pulling away, but Logan held on tighter.

  “You’re just in time,” Carol said as they sat. “We’re about to start.”

  Carol had six bingo cards in front of her, and a row of odd, small plastic bottles with caps of different colors.

  While Sky settled Arnie by her feet, Logan flagged a waitress. “Hit us,” he said, handing over a hundred-dollar bill for ten bingo cards and giving Sky five. “These are for you. If you can handle them, we’ll up the stakes next round.”

  She reached for her wallet, but he stopped her. “My town. My bingo.”

  “Pricey bingo cards.” Sky had no clue what the standard current rate was, but ten bucks a pop seemed overkill.

  Logan laughed. “Wait till you see what they charge for a cup of coffee. Starbucks has got nothing on these people.”

  “Banana, strawberry, or grape?” Carol asked, distracting her.

  “What?”

  “Scented bingo daubers.” Carol gestured at the odd bottles. “Which one do you want?”

  “I can make do with a pencil.”

  “No, you can’t, honey. Banana, strawberry, or grape?” she insisted.

  Sky floundered. “Oh, I don’t know—strawberry?”

  “Good choice,” she said, her eyes gleaming. “Let’s get dabbing.” Carol was excited.

  Sky offered her a smile and, leaning toward Logan, whispered, “Remind me again why we’re here?”

  Logan kissed her softly on the lips, his smirk making her heart skip a beat. “Because if the school closes, all the kids in town will be home schooled. You don’t want them home schooled. The world can’t afford it. Prepper parents, remember?”

  “Right.” She arranged the bingo cards in front of her, ready to sacrifice herself for the sake of humanity. “So what are we playing for?”

  “The prizes are there onstage. Here’s a list,” Carol said. “Aside from the grand prize, the rest are donated by people in town.”

  Sky perused the list, looking for her donation.

  Hand-cranked radio

  Water purifier

  B-rations

  A pair of impractical shoes


  Excuse me? Those were not mere shoes. Those were Valentinos.

  She was so winning them back.

  At the end of the list was the grand prize: a solar-powered washing machine. “I really don’t want to rain on anybody’s parade—not that this bunch cares about a little rain—but a solar-powered washing machine in a winter wonderland? That’s insane.” And they called her shoes impractical? Please.

  Logan looked amused. “We do have sun in summer.”

  She’d just have to take his word for it. “And the rest of the year? How do you do laundry off the grid?”

  “They’ve got bike-powered washing machines. You stop pedaling, no clean laundry. Sierra swears by it.”

  Talk about getting buff while doing household chores.

  “Where have you been staying?” Carol asked Logan. “Your place has been empty for a couple of days. The diapers are piling up, Alchemist.”

  “I’m romancing her,” Logan answered.

  “They’re in hiding,” Megan offered.

  That too.

  Whatever Carol was going to say, it was interrupted by a lady on the stage. Bingo was on.

  It took a while for Sky to get the hang of it, but after several cards, she was dabbing with the best of them. The couture world was preparing for New York Bridal Fashion Week, and she was in redneck Minnesota, playing bingo and laughing about it. The memory of Saturday morning’s malaise was never far from her mind. Getting up on Sunday and sticking to her routine had still been a struggle, but NoName and Logan hadn’t given her time to feel down.

  She called out a bingo, waving the card like a pro. Not even winning the hand-cranked radio instead of her beloved Valentinos put a damper on her joy.

  The evening flew by. Before she realized it, mandatory prepper bingo was over.

  Logan put his arm around her shoulders and kissed her. “You had fun,” he said as they left the community center.

  “Yes, I did,” she admitted, freeing Arnie from the muzzle and scratching him between his ears. “Where to now?”

  Logan motioned toward the other end of Main Street. “They’re going to the bar, but I thought we could call it a night?”

  She glanced at the boisterous group of people walking in that direction and burrowed into him. “Yeah. I’d rather enjoy our romantic cabin.”

  “You tired, Butterfly?”

  “Not enough to stop me from riding you on that fur rug by the light of the fire.”

  “You’re forgetting there’s no door downstairs. What about Cerberus?”

  “We can lock him up in the bedroom,” she offered.

  “He gets the bed and I get you?”

  She nodded. “Naked and riding your cock like there’s no tomorrow. Deal?”

  “Abso-fucking-lutely.”

  Sky woke up to Logan’s voice, his arm around her. “We’re in Paris,” he said and kissed her on the forehead. “You sleeping?”

  She sat straighter and lied through her teeth. “No. I just had my eyes closed for a second.”

  They were parked in front of her place—well, Mrs. Rantala’s. How long they’d been there, she had no clue.

  “Right,” he answered, clearly humoring her. “You okay? You went out like a light.”

  “A bit tired.”

  He kissed her again, this time on the lips. “I had a great time this weekend.”

  “Me too,” she whispered back.

  “Really? I was afraid it went too far off the deep end.”

  She laughed. Everything in that town was always crazy. “Not more than usual.”

  “Does that mean you won’t change your name and address to get out of spending next weekend with me? You’ll be here, waiting for me on Friday after classes?”

  The insecurity in his gaze tugged at her heart. She cupped his face. Kissed him. “Definitely, Alchemist.” At Arnie’s bark, she added. “Heads up; he will too.”

  “Lucky me,” Logan grumbled and handed her a bag. “Before I forget, these are for you.”

  She stared into the bag, her eyes big. “These are my Valentinos. How…”

  “I’ve got contacts in town. Besides, no one in NoName can rock Valentino the way you do.”

  “You bought them back?”

  Her voice cracked. Damn, she was going to cry.

  He kissed her and, ignoring her question, turned to Arnie, “Come on, big guy. Time for your lackey to carry your royal ass upstairs.”

  She cleared her throat, attempting to compose herself. “If you get my stuff, I can do that.”

  Logan snorted. “Next time, try adopting a dog that weighs less than you do, just in case it comes with emotional baggage.”

  They made it to her place. “Here we are,” she said as he put Arnie on the floor. Logan was about to speak, but Sky lifted a finger, halting him.

  Three, two, one. There it was. The door opened.

  “Good evening, Mrs. Rantala.”

  The old lady smiled, nodded, and left, leaving the connecting door ajar.

  “Told you,” Sky whispered. “Frigging fifteen again.”

  Chapter 14

  “Okay, guys, we’re done for today. Off you go. Have a nice weekend. Mingle and practice English. See you here on Monday.”

  Sky finished wiping the whiteboard while her students gathered their stuff and drifted out, chattering. She enjoyed all her classes, but the last one on Fridays, Advanced English, was her favorite. Their level allowed for more interaction, and she loved that. Teaching English had started as a means to an end, but surprisingly enough, she’d discovered she had a knack for it. She enjoyed preparing the classes and coming up with ways of making them interesting. Heck, she even enjoyed the tedious parts, like grading papers and reviewing pedagogy with her advisor. All things considered, that was a major victory.

  “Ms. Gonzalez,” Elias said, with that beautiful Spanish accent she herself didn’t have.

  “Sky,” she reminded him.

  “Sky. Okay.”

  “Anything I can help you with?” She doubted it. Elias was from the Dominican Republic, and though he needed the course to meet college requirements, his English was already very good. It came from listening to rap, he’d told her.

  “I’m fine. I was wondering if you have plans for tonight. We’re playing at a club just outside Grand Rapids.”

  “You play in a band?” She’d had no clue. It certainly fit the guy’s rogue image.

  Elias nodded. “I’m the singer. Te apuntas? Seguro que vamos a pasarla bien.”

  “I’ve told you before, Elias—I don’t understand you.”

  He looked contrite. “That’s right. Sorry, I forgot. I look at you, those big black eyes, that face, and I totally forget you don’t speak Spanish. I said we would have a great time. Reggaeton music, great for perrear.”

  “Perrear?”

  “Perreo is like—” he struggled to find a fitting word “—twerking, but in couples.”

  She laughed. “Ah, you mean booty dancing.”

  “Perreo sounds better. Everything sounds better in Spanish.”

  “Yes, it does,” she conceded.

  “Ay mami, you really need to learn. A Latino beauty like you speaking English, unable to whisper naughty things in Spanish to her lover’s ear. Such a shame. I could teach you.”

  “Thank you, but it’s no use. I didn’t learn from my grandma, so I doubt I’d learn now.”

  Elias opened the classroom door for her. “You never know, mami. Come tonight. Some perreo, some mojitos, and you’ll catch on pretty fast. I’m a good teacher.”

  “I’m sure you are,” she said, laughing. The guy had “Latin lover” written all over him. She’d grown up around his type. She could totally see the appeal. She also knew how to take his banter, but she had to warn him. “Say, have you ever heard about a tiny little thing called sexual harassment? You have to be careful what you say to women in America, or you’ll get yourself arrested and expelled.”

  “Please, you Americans and your lawsuits. Calling
a woman beautiful is not sexual harassment. It’s the obligation of every male. What do you say about coming tonight?” he insisted as they left the building. “Gringos don’t get good music. Or good dance. Our people do. And Grand Rapids is almost a big city. Lots to do.”

  “Appearances are deceiving, I’m afraid. I’m as boring and gringa as they get.” Logan was coming to pick her up later in the evening, but even if he hadn’t been, she was exhausted. With every day that passed, it was more difficult for her to get out of bed, stick with her routine, and get on with her life.

  His eyes roved over her from head to toe. “I doubted it very much, mami.”

  She lifted her gaze and saw Logan with his arms crossed, waiting for her. Arnie was sitting by his side, growling. By the looks of it, Logan was growling too.

  She gave him a big smile. “Hi. What are you doing here? I thought you were picking me up at my place.”

  “Change of plans,” he grunted. Arnie too. He wrapped a hand around the back of her neck and kissed her, short but hard. A very public statement that didn’t go unnoticed by Elias.

  The student put up his hands and took a step backward. “Oh. Sorry, man. Didn’t know. Invitation still stands. You could both come.”

  She turned to Logan. “What do you think? You feel like some mojitos and booty dancing tonight?”

  “Your call, Butterfly. We’re set to go home, though,” Logan said.

  “Sorry, Elias. We’re busy this weekend. It’s probably for the best. Booty dancing is not my thing.”

  “No problem. Another time.” Slipping on a pair of aviator sunglasses, Elias walked away. The kid was going to kill it in the club. That Latino look, those tattoos, the swagger—it was all a huge turn-on for Nordic types.

  The truck was parked right there, but Logan didn’t move. He stared at her, obviously waiting for her to explain herself.

  “What?” she asked, playing dumb as she crouched to pet Arnie, who was actually looking disapprovingly at her too.

  “Mami? Really?”

  She rolled her eyes. Stood up. “Elias sings in a band. They’ve got a gig in Grand Rapids, in a club. Nice kid. He keeps forgetting I don’t speak Spanish. Even offered to teach me.”