by Jaye Ripley
“He likes you,” I reply from the kitchen. I walk back out and hand her a beer. “I don’t think he’ll mess with you.”
“Still. It’s a good warning. Maybe I should strike against him first. He did place a bet on me tonight.”
What in the hell would happen if Mel and EJ ended up in a prank war? Dear lord, the casualties.
“He wasn’t serious. And Nana will set him straight.”
Her eyes soften at the mention of EJ’s grandma. She likes her, and I’m pretty sure the feeling’s mutual. I know the old woman said something to Mel that affected her, but Nana wouldn’t hurt her or anyone on purpose. However, she does like to tell it like it is.
Mel places her hand on her chest and rubs a spot on the left side. “I don’t know if you heard us talking, but Ms. Eugenia told me I need to pay attention more to my heart than my head.”
My chest clenches, and I have to swallow the questions forming in my throat. Better to let her tell me in her own way.
She takes a deep breath and blows it out, shifting in her chair so she faces my direction. Her eyes look out at the night sky through the trees. “I know I freaked you out with what I said about me being the problem. I don’t blame you for not trusting that I would follow you here.”
“I trust you.” At least, I want those words to be true.
She looks at me for a second. “No, you don’t. And that’s okay. I haven’t given you any reason to think I won’t end things. Because I have too much doubt inside me to think anything else.”
“Mel, I swear if you’ll give me a chance—”
She holds up her hand to interrupt. “No, this isn’t about you. It’s about me. And my past.”
She sets the bottle down on the metal table and leans forward. Her hands cradle her head as she rubs her temples. My fingers itch to stroke her back or do anything to make things better. But I wait.
“I think you know most of what I’m going to tell you first. But it needs to be said out loud and not assumed or misinterpreted. Hunter, I’ve wanted you since before that night. I really have been a fan of Tailgate Down since you all auditioned for Trey. I’ve been to some of your shows all around the area.”
Shit. She really is a super fan if she attended some of our earliest gigs. Her earnest confession strokes my ego and causes my chest to swell.
“You know I’m not really a country girl. It’s not my style. But you guys are more than just country. You rock. And your songs get me pumped. Those lyrics…I don’t know how you put the words together, but they’re always full of meaning that I think most people miss.”
She stops talking and drains her beer. She shakes her head no when I offer to get another.
“That day during prep when you met me? I asked to serve on that side just so I could find a way to talk to you.” She laughs at herself. “I planned on seducing you that night, even if I had to fight some bitches.”
Fuck me, I want to drag her into my lap and have my way with her right now. She can’t say shit like that and not expect it to turn me on. “It wouldn’t have been hard. I wanted you the second I saw you. And after witnessing you singing? It was a foregone conclusion.”
She looks at me, and we share a burning gaze with each other. She breaks the stare and plays with her hair, pulling it off her neck busying herself with fixing it into a messy bun.
“But somehow, we ended up with more that night than I wanted. And you kept me coming back to you again and again despite my instincts. When we’re together, things fall into place. Especially when we’re really together.” She wiggles her brows at me. “But I can’t help the way I’m built. I think I’m always going to doubt that what we have can last. That instead of happy ever after, I’m going to get crushed.”
My heart sinks. How can she think I would hurt her? Sure, it’s been fast falling for each other, but that doesn’t diminish what’s building between us.
She reaches her hand across the rickety table for mine. I take it with so much gratitude for her initiation of comfort for me. She strokes my hand with her thumb. Shit, a display like that from her must mean something spectacularly bad’s coming up.
“Hunter, I’m jealous.”
My mouth opens. I close it fast, but it doesn’t change how shocked I am. She can’t be thinking about my bitch ex.
“Ever since your concert, I see how surrounded you are by family of all sorts. You’ve got the boys. You all clearly care for each other even more than you love working and playing with each other. Then you’ve got your parents and family that were there. The pride on their faces when you play is…stunning. And a little unbearable for me.
“See, I will never have an ounce of that. My upbringing didn’t include people like your mom and dad or EJ’s grandmother. My father left us when I was just a baby. I think it killed the part in my mother that cared for others. I mean, I wasn’t exactly neglected in terms of living conditions. I always had clothes and food. A house to live in. She made a decent living as a librarian. But she didn’t love me.”
Mel lets my hand go as she wipes away a tear. Her face tightens, frustration matching her heartache. She doesn’t want to cry in front of me, but how can she not? My fists tighten at the thought that anybody in this world wouldn’t give her what was her birthright or what would come natural between a mother and her child.
“I grew up with this distance between me and her. I thought that’s how people lived. When one of my first teachers hugged me, I froze. I was shocked to be touched in that way. And then surprised and hurt at how much I wanted more. Craved that kind of touch. I remember going up to my mother and hugging her around her waist. She stiffened in my embrace, pushed me off of her, and told me to go outside. She preferred when I wasn’t around. Guess I reminded her of the man who hurt her or whatever.
“I had no one to help me see that the rest of the world didn’t exist like me. It took one pushy little girl with wild blonde hair to force her way into my life. As short as she is now, she was a tiny little thing back in the day. But everyone underestimates her. She’s strong as hell.”
Who is Mel kidding? She loves, and she loves fiercely. The bond between her and Bethany is so strong that I’m almost a little jealous of it myself.
“Guess it took two fucked up kids to find and fix each other. Bethany has her own story, but I know it now that we were meant to be together. She turned my world upside down and filled it with color.”
That’s everything I want to do for her. If she’d only let me in, I’d make sure her world was multicolored, multidimensional, and filled with so much love that she’d have no choice but to let the doubt go.
“I know it’s a terrible thing to say out loud, but I truly hate my mother. I hate that she used me as her emotional punching bag. Abuse doesn’t have to come in the form of physical bruises. Some injuries are internal and last too fucking long. I hate that she makes me doubt anyone that cares for me. It’s not my own voice I hear when I want to run. It’s hers telling me that love is for idiots, and it makes us weak. To stand on my own without needing anybody.”
Tears stream down her face. She wipes them away with the back of her hands, and continues. “And I fucking listened to her. Besides Bee, nobody else gets in. I’ve been doing fine on my own. Or at least I thought I was. Until you.”
She gets up from her chair, walks over to me, and sits in my lap. My arms encircle her as I pull her close. Even as I kiss her head and rub her back, her body still doesn’t settle.
She lifts her head to look at me, her eyes wide with irritation. “See. I can’t even relax. I fucking hate that woman!” She yells into the night air. A dog barks in response.
Her hands cradle my face. “You’ve made me think that maybe more is possible. That she’s fucking wrong. That being with you won’t destroy me. I’m so tired of feeling like this, pushing people away. Because it makes me exactly like her.”
Her body shakes as she breaks down. She sobs into my shoulder, and I hold her to me. Rubbing slow circles on her
back, I kiss her head, and tell her that she’s okay. That I won’t let her go. And none of it may make any difference. I can’t chase away her past, and I sure as hell can’t force her to change now. The only thing I can do is to be here for her either way.
Her confessions turn on the light bulb for me. No wonder she’s been skittish. Not only does she have natural issues allowing people to care for her but also my impending move in less than a week must be scaring the shit out of her. I’m leaving her behind, like her father did. And how can I give her any reassurance if I’m several states away?
Her sobs slow down until she heaves with deep breaths. I tell her to wipe her tears on my shirt. When she refuses, I whip it off and hand it to her. She cleans off her smudged face, and places the shirt on the table.
Her hand rests on my chest until it drifts down a slow path. My cock stirs in my jeans, although I don’t want her to think that how much she turns me on is the reason I want her here or in my life. My dick can take a backseat tonight.
Her fingers brush over the crevices of my muscles that twitch under her touch. My ego loves how my body affects her, but damn her fingers trail fire. I want to stay present so I can comfort her, not clouded with lust. But if she keeps touching me this way I’m going to lose it.
“Mel.” Calling her name is a warning.
“Shhhh.” She places her finger over my lips. “I love touching you. I love it when you touch me. I’m done talking. And I’m not going anywhere else tonight. I want to stay here. With you.”
She leans in and places her soft lips on mine. She skims over my mouth, planting light kisses on me. My resolve weakens. My hands move to her ass, grabbing her and yanking her harder against my throbbing erection.
“Hunter,” she sighs against my lips. “Take me to bed and let me show you how I feel about you.”
A beer bottle shatters on the ground as I move fast as lightning with her in my arms. When we make it to the bedroom, I pray to every deity to make tonight last as long as possible.
27
Mel
I am Bethany’s personal Barbie Doll. The only task I’ve been allowed to control is washing my own body. After that, she’s called the shots. And she won’t let me look in a mirror until she’s finished.
“Look up and hold your face like this.” She contorts her face with an open mouth and eyes rolled up. She draws eyeliner under my eyes.
“I can do my own makeup, Bee.”
“Not like I’m gonna make you look. Tonight’s a special night, and I want you to feel unlike yourself. You know. Like things are different.” The pad of her ring finger wipes under my eye.
“What’s wrong with the way I look?”
“Did I say something was wrong? No, I don’t think I did. Now close your eyes for me.” She blows on something and brushes over my eyelid. “You always look so badass, so tough. Tonight, I want you and Hunter to see the softer side of you. The one that reminds him you’re all woman.”
I snicker. “Oh, I think he’s well aware I’m woman. He’s pretty familiar with my lady parts.”
“Eww. Please don’t share that with me. It’s bad enough that the couple of times you’ve ended up here that you let everyone in the near vicinity hear what he’s doing to you. Fuck me harder. Right there. Suck me. Lick me. Spank me. Oh God, Mr. Sexy Country Singer. I’m coming!”
My cheeks heat. She’s not wrong. Sometimes he drives me so crazy, I lose all sense of my surroundings. And it’s not like he’s particularly quiet himself. I shrug, unable to say anything as she brushes color on my lips.
“At least tonight you guys get to do it in a swanky hotel. He really booked the Parkmoor on the beach?”
I wait for her to finish applying extra goop on my lips. “Yeah. I’m meeting him there. I can’t believe our time’s already up.” Tonight’s our last night together. He leaves from the hotel in the morning.
Bethany asks me to close my eyes. She sprays something all over my face. “Yeah, I know. I can’t believe you didn’t go to his parents’ house for the big farewell dinner last night.”
I blink my eyes open. Bee turns my head back and forth, checking her work. Without a reply, her eyes finally fall on mine. “Too much, too soon?”
I nod. “Yeah. I mean, they’re nice people. But I couldn’t beg off another night. I think Shane’s ready to go on strike if I don’t start working normal hours again. He hasn’t exactly liked working with the sub wannabe bartenders out of the server pool. Did you know that Tamsin even worked a shift?”
Bethany puts her hand on her hip. “Way to change the subject. And yes, it was my idea for Tamsin to work there. Wanted her to see that bartenders don’t have the easier gig than us servers. The fact that it pissed Shane off was a nice side bonus. Now, on your bed I’ve set out everything for you to dress in. Put on everything including the shoes and call me. I’ll help you put on the dress so you don’t ruin my masterpiece.” She cleans up the explosion of makeup and brushes on our bathroom counter.
I walk into my room and check out my chosen wardrobe. “Bee, what the hell is this?” A black and red silk and lace corset, matching G-string panties, and silk stockings with a garter belt lay across my sheets.
“Less talking, more dressing,” she calls out from the bathroom. “Your boyfriend gave me leave to pick out your outfit tonight. So I did.”
“But this is all brand new. And I don’t wear shit like this.” I’m going to look like an expensive call girl when I finish.
“You do tonight. Remember, special.”
“Yeah, real special for him,” I mutter under my breath.
It takes me several minutes to dress, taking careful consideration not to cause runs in the stockings and making sure my girls fit into the corset. By the time I slip on the heels, Bethany peeks in.
“Oh good. Let me help you fasten the garter belt.”
“Why, oh why, did you do this to me, Bee? I’m gonna feel self-conscious. More than usual.”
She switches legs. “No you won’t. Not after you see yourself. In fact, you get a quick preview before I put on your dress.” She directs me over to the long mirror hanging on the outside of the closet door.
Whoever the woman is that regards me up and down can’t be me. Her hair falls in loose curls like the pictures from magazines. The corset doesn’t make me look cheap. It hugs me in all the right places, showing off my curves. And the stockings with the clips down to the stiletto heels. I’m so fucking stunning, that I consider staying in and screwing myself for the night.
“Hands up over your head.”
I watch Bethany lower the dress carefully over my hair and face. I purse my lips to keep lipstick from smearing on the red material. The dress fits snug around my curves as she works on positioning it right.
“That better not be lace.”
Her brow furrows as she smooths out the material. “Only in the part over your left shoulder. Get over it, you look fantastic.”
“Shouldn’t my heels be red, too?” I turn in the mirror, checking myself out.
“Absolutely not. The nude color will make your legs look even longer. And there’s red on the bottom. When your sexy boyfriend spends money on you, he goes all out. I’ll stuff those Louboutins just to get my feet in them. Then I might be close to normal height.” She spanks my ass.
A gorgeous goddess stares back at me from the mirror. Her flawless makeup accentuates her eyes with a smoky look. Her lips don’t hold any of the bright color she normally wears, but the dress makes up for it.
“Hunter’s gonna owe me so much chocolate for this. Now get going. Don’t keep him waiting.”
She hands me a small clutch of hers. Of course, she’s stuffed it with condoms and a few bills of emergency cash. She slips in a couple of pieces of makeup I can use to fix my face. Hunter already has my overnight bag since he didn’t want me carrying it with me tonight to keep up the illusion that we were going on a regular date, not the last one before he leaves.
I walk toward the door, a
little unsure on the spiked heels. Grabbing my keys from the bowl on the table beside the door, I stop.
“Shit, how in the hell am I going to drive my car in these?”
Bethany rolls her eyes. “Geez, you manage to ruin every magical moment. Open the door, girlie.”
Outside, a black Suburban waits for me. The driver gets out, walks around the SUV, and opens the back door wide for me.
“Over-the-top bastard.” I laugh. “Don’t wait up for me, dear,” I call out to Bee.
She stops me with her hand, turning me to face her. With care, she grips my chin. “Remember, give him a chance. I’m pretty sure he’s worth it. And not because he paid for all this. I haven’t seen you this happy in years. Hell, since I’ve known you. So go have the night of your life. And when you come home tomorrow, I’ll be right here for you.”
An ache in my stomach grows. She’s always been my soft place to land. I nod and give her a quick hug. She swats my butt and sends me on my way.
I text Hunter to let him know I’m coming.
* * *
On the ride to the Parkmoor, a glass of champagne dulls the anticipation of heartache. Checking my reflection once more in the floor to ceiling mirrors by the elevators, excitement sparks in my belly to see Hunter’s reaction. The doors slide open, and two young men in suits step out. Their eyes graze over my body. The one with the blue tie holds the door from closing. I step into the carriage.
“Damn,” red tie exhales as the door closes.
That’s right, boys. You can look, but only one man gets to touch.
My pulse races as I exit onto the right floor. Standing in front of the door to the room, I fidget with my dress, smoothing it unnecessarily and gathering my courage. With one knock, my heart threatens to beat out of my chest.
The door pulls open. Hunter stands in the threshold holding a flute of champagne. He’s wearing a black suit with a black button-down shirt opened at the collar. He looks every part the celebrity country singer on the red carpet making all the girls scream. Once again, my new and expensive panties offer to tear themselves off for me.
