by Xavier Neal
I lift my attention up to him. “And that's it? You weren't pissed off all because Darrin reminded you of the type of woman you're actually involved with? The one who could end this at any moment without any warning? The kinda woman who wanders not because she's lost. The type of woman who marriage is not a possibility for?”
His Adam's apple bobs. “I....”
“Admit it,” I challenge and put my meal back on the coffee table. “It pissed you off to hear the facts laid out.”
“They're not the facts anymore,” he corrects. “Maybe when we started datin' they were. Maybe everything you jus' said used to be true, but Rory you're not exactly that person anymore.”
I furrow my eyebrows.
“Change is not always a bad thing, Sugar. Think about it like this, in order to live the life you want, you're always tryin' new things. You're always changing where you go. What you do. You're always changing your ways to see what you love about life. And for once you were changin' without realizing' it. With that said, you're still the woman I've fallen in love with.”
Hearing the words tightens my jaw.
No....No. No. No. This can't be happening.
“You're still wild and free, you jus' take me along for the ride sometimes. I don't mind bein' the one with his feet in the mud as long as I know I'm not forcin' you to come back down.”
Slightly confused, I sigh, “Meaning?”
“Meaning, if you're unhappy bein' tied down or you feel like you're suffocatin' than I'd rather let you go and be happy than miserable. You're all about bein' happy. And frankly, so am I. I know what it's like to be miserable in your own skin, Rory. And the thought of ever puttin' someone else through that, hell puttin' the woman I love through that isn't somethin' I can live with. I just wanna know we're doing this together like we said we would. That we're in it together. That's all.”
My mouth runs away before my brain has time to screen the words coming out, “Of course we're in it together. You're my Cowboy. You're the only person in the entire world I've ever done any of this for or with for that matter. Hell, you're really the only person I've ever wanted to try and do any of this with. I just...I know I'm not very good at it-”
“Better than you think.”
“-and I know I'm never going to be the white dress and viel type-”
“Cowboy hat would be better anyway.”
The last interruption pauses the topic. “Really? You want me to marry you in a cowboy hat?”
“I really just want the first part of that sentence someday.” He slyly smiles.
Flustered I snip, “And I can't give you that.”
“Maybe not now.” He shrugs. “Jus' like you can't say you love me now. Doesn't mean some day you won't. Hell, Sugar when we started all this you swore it wouldn't last longer than a couple weeks. Here we are a couple months later. You were worried we wouldn't be havin' fun and that arguments would be the end of us. Yet here we are. Talkin' through it. Workin' on it. I'm not in any hurry Sugar to get you in that white dress or makin' a lifelong commitment to me. I want whatever it is you wanna offer right now. The rest'll come when it comes.”
“If,” I cheep.
“Minor difference of opinion there.” He winks. There's a small lull of silence before he tosses his head at the bowl. “You should eat it while it's warm.”
I reach for the bowl again.
What exactly just happened? Are we....pre-engaged now? I feel like something important went over my head. No, I heard him say he loves me. I....I don't know that I do. I mean the uncontrollable clashing in my brain could be love or just chaos as I struggle to decide what to do about him. No need prematurely saying something. I don't like to lie. You know this by now.
He kindly questions, “Do you have to work tonight?”
I nod. “Delivery this evening. Have to finish prepping a body for tomorrow. Death doesn't take a holiday.”
“Neither does sex.”
The two of us chuckle slightly. “You have to work tonight?”
“It's the only reason I'm not tossin' back bowls with ya. That and I drank too much beer last night.”
“Oh?” My voice lifts. “Were you...out at a bar or something?”
Not jealous. Just curious.
“Poker night,” he softly informs. “Jus' the guys.”
I hide my content with another bite.
“You'll never have to worry about me steppin' out on you as long as I'm yours, Sugar. You've got my word. I meant it on Halloween. I mean it now.”
Swinging my legs into his lap, I nestle myself into the corner of the couch and continue to eat. “I'd love to meet your friends someday.”
Hunter's face changes in an unexpected way.
With clothes on. Was that not....apparent?
My mouth moves to make the joke when he cuts me off. “How about my family?”
Panic starts poking around my brain.
“I go home every year for Christmas. It's the one time of year I see my family. I know you're not big on makin' plans that far in advance, so don't. Jus' consider the idea as a possibility? Kick it around a bit and decide closer to the time.”
The words struggle to leave me. “I can....do....that....”
“You know, if you decide to go, I could take you horseback ridin'. I know you've never done that.”
“Ooo....”
His hand softly strokes my leg under the blanket. “Or we could go for a ride 'round the property in my ol' truck, find a place to park and let you moan my name...”
The added idea kicks panic to the side for thrill to tumble in.
“Maybe show you where we used to go fishin'.”
“And the famous rope where you swung into the lake?”
Hunter lightly chuckles. “Maybe even Fort Hunter. I mean I know you're a huge fan of the city, but if you give the country a chance you might love it too...”
I fucking love the city. The constant noise. The busy people. The never ending motion. Nothing is ever still too long. I can't breathe in the stillness. Not since watching my mother die in front of my eyes. Not since being trapped in a room with nothing more than my tears as friends. From first thought the country seems to lack all the things I find essential to living. But who knows right? I never saw myself doing the couple thing and I am. Discovered day to day stuff can still be fun and exciting. Who knows? Maybe the country will surprise me too. Wait. Is this all some sort of metaphor?
Hunter
Cass glides into my lap, perfecting the move we've been working on for my closing performance of the weekend.
Looking up at her with a sweet smile I say, “See. Nothin' to it.”
“Says the asshole after how many rehearsals?” She pats my chest condescendingly and stands up.
“I'm just thankful we got it down.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she brushes off, grabbing her backpack. “I've got one last final to study for.”
“Good luck,” I say with a small wave.
Cass returns the gesture, grabs a fresh bottle of water, and hustles out of the dance studio.
She's got one last final to study for and this could damn well be my final weekend as a performer. Yeah, I said could. Haven't decided what to do yet. If Rory would've ended things on Thanksgiving like I feared she was going to, it'd be a no brainer. But she didn't. Hell, she ended up doin' jus' the opposite. While there's still resistance to lettin' things between us run away too fast, there's also all this ground work for a real future together. Ground she's okay standing on. Ground I don't know I can jus' leave behind anymore.
I put away our practice tools and make my way to the elevator.
She even agreed to spend Christmas with me and my family. Talk about something else that's got me nervous as hell. Rory only knows the tail end of the Montgomery legacy. The details and graspin' it in full capacity might send her runnin' no matter how much damage control I attempt to do. It's a bit much to take in. Trust me. Some days even I have trouble wrappin' my mind around it and I gr
ew up in it.
To my surprise when I arrive in front of French's office door it's cracked open.
She typically keeps it closed. Not the warm welcomin' kinda woman.
“It's fucking Christmas, French!” Brock's voice booms. “Even the goddamn Grinch found his heart!”
“He lived on top of a mountain away from everyone for the same fucking reason, Prince B!”
“We're alone,” he growls. “You call me Brock.”
She never calls us by our real names. Not as long as we're employed.
“And we're in my goddamn office, not your apartment,” she snaps back.
Don't ask me. I don't think anything like that is goin' on between them. Could be wrong given that last comment.
“Then we'll finish this fucking conversation there!” He barks.
“I'm working!”
“After fucking work!” Seconds later the door flies all the way open and he lowers his eyes to glare. “Were you fucking eavesdropping?”
“Nope,” I lie. “Was jus' about to knock.”
Tellin' him the truth doesn't seem like a good idea right now.
He lowers his face closer to mine. “Anything you think you fucking heard, you didn't.”
Without another word he storms away for the stairs.
See. We didn't hear anything after all.
I step into the office and shut the door behind me. With a head tilt I say, “Queen.”
Her eyebrows immediately dart down as she drops the paperwork she was holding. “What can I do for you, Prince H?”
After the tiff she was going through with Brock I'm hesitant to ask.
“I was hopin' I could persuade you to spread a little Christmas cheer?”
The joke is met with a scowl.
Wrong timing.
“I know the rules of The Castle. I know it's members only.”
“Then whatever the second part of this conversation is the answer is going to be no.”
“Hear me out, please?” My back hits the door. “My girlfriend wants to see me perform-”
“Rory Charles.”
“How do you-” The lift of her eyebrows kills the question. “Yes. Rory. Rory would like to see me perform. However she's not a member-”
“Prince H-”
“And she doesn't want to be-”
“Prince H-”
“But what if she were a member for jus' the night? A one day pass sort of thing.”
French leans against the side of her desk. “I don't do that.”
“What if I pay for it to be done?”
She tilts her head as if intrigued.
“Saturday night I close-”
“I'm aware.”
“Then you are also aware of how much a closer brings in.”
“Point?”
“If I forfeit all of my earnings for the night, can we grant her temporary access to watch the one show?”
Again, we're not talkin' chump change. Closing performer of the night can easily be a significant down payment on a house.
“A jealous girlfriend in the crowd is the absolute last fucking thing I need right now, Prince H.”
“But she won't be,” I quickly insist. “Rory's not that type of woman. Hell we met-”
“I know how you met,” she sighs, moving her body to her chair.
Bit creepy how she knows so much, but then again, you learn to expect it.
“Swear, Queen. She won't threaten business.”
My boss folds her hands into her black dress covered lap.
“Look, I don't know if I'll be back after this weekend. We both know that. I wanna give Rory somethin' special for Christmas to remember me by if she can't live with me makin' the other decision.”
“What the hell is wrong with jewelry?”
I can't help but smile. “She's really not that type of woman.”
French looks more annoyed than interested. “What's really standing in the way of your decision, Prince H?”
“It's complicated.”
“Only because you see two of the three options you have.”
What the hell is that supposed to mean? It's not like I can run a billion dollar company and continue to strip here for her on the weekends. There's no third option. I'm going to have to choose one or the other. Jus' tryin' to enjoy every final moment I can of peace before it gets there and I possibly lose the one person who would make it all so much easier on me.
“One night of pay doesn't seem worth it to me. Make it all three nights and I'll consider the offer.”
Certain I misheard her, I question, “Excuse me, Queen?”
“Your entire cut at the end of all three nights and I will consider the idea.” A playful yet powerful smirk slides onto her face. “Is she worth it, Prince H? Is she worth working an entire weekend, possibly your last weekend, for free?”
Without hesitating I retort, “Yes ma'am.”
Rory is worth givin' up both jobs and deliverin' fuckin' pizza if I have too. You can look at me crazy all you want, but my granddaddy was right. When you know, you know. And I know Rory Charles is it for me. Jus' hope she realizes I'm it for her someday.
Rory
Brian leans back in the front office chair. “I can't believe you're going to spend the holidays with his family.”
I give him a short shrug with a bright smile.
He's got horses! I've always wanted to ride a horse. Yeah, yeah, I know it's more than that, but we're sticking to that story for now.
“Don't give me that,” he fusses with glee. “This is the first holiday season we're not actually working all of it.”
A somber expression tries to blanket me. “I like working through the holiday.”
“I know,” Brian softly retorts. “And I understand. It's why you've never heard me bitch about it before. I'm just saying it'll be nice being surrounded by jingles instead of hymns.” As soon as I smile he adds, “I love what this man is doing to you.”
“Keeping me in an orgasmic bliss?”
“Helping you see the beauty in the less adventurous side of life.”
We still do the adventurous things. Hell, at the beginning of this week we went parasailing. It was amazing and I've never been more grateful for a warmer start to winter than normal.
“Oh and getting rid of Mal.”
I roll my eyes. “Why do you hate Mal so much?”
“Same reason the rest of the kingdom does. She's a wicked witch with a wicked attitude and a wicked pet dragon.”
Helplessly, I giggle. “Darrin is not a dragon.”
“His breath tells you otherwise,” Brian mutters. “It's like lord, just carry around Tic-Tacs and save us all!” We laugh together and after he says, “Look, I know me and Mal are the oldest friends you have, but I guess at some point I hoped you'd see her true colors before she kicked you out of her wedding.”
We've talked since then. However she's made it very clear Hunter is not welcome over to their home and she will not do anything that involves him. Basically we can be friends, but she'll never accept him. He'll never be welcomed. She believes sternly he should've stayed a hidden secret in the hotel room and an illusion of a strip club the world doesn't think exists. Never once objected to the shit that supposedly makes her happy. How can she not give me the same courtesy?
“So, what did you get him for Christmas?” He doesn't even pause for an answer. “You did get him something right? You know you can't wait til the absolute last minute to buy him a good gift online, Rory. This isn't like picking out a Halloween costume.”
Proudly, I state, “I already ordered it.”
Brian mocks the action of having a heart attack.
“Shut up,” another giggle leaves me.
His smile is short lived as he points. “Are we expecting company?”
“Not that I know of...” I glance over my shoulder to see a limo waiting with a large, bald black man beside it. “Let me go check.”
“Rory-”
“I'll be fine worry
wart.”
It's broad day light and according to SVU the likelihood is you're probably not gonna get kidnapped in a limo. Most people don't have that kinda luck.
The moment I step outside of the building the man questions, “Victoria Charles?”
