Tulsa

by S. L. Scott

  “Not at all, ya lightweight.”

  “Just you wait and see. I’m going to pack on some love pounds now that I’m married. I can eat pasta again. And rice. Oh, my God. It’s been so long since I had those.”

  I don’t even know what she’s going on about other than, apparently, she doesn’t eat the foods I consider staples in my house. I’m a hunter, but that consists of me gathering food from the pantry or the freezer and heating it up. Now I’m wondering what my California girl eats when she’s at home. “Sorry to interrupt your daydreams about food, but stick the card in. I have a few daydreams of my own that include your naked body on top of mine.”

  “I don’t have the card. I put it in my purse. Use yours.”

  “Oh, shit.”

  “Oh, shit what?”

  “Fuck,” I mutter under my breath.

  “Fuck what, Tulsa? Open the door.”

  The panic in her voice is clear, so I try to counter it with calm. “It’s no biggie. We’re just locked out of the room.”

  “What?” she exclaims, her voice pitching.

  “My key is in my wallet . . . on the dresser. Okay. Let’s not worry. We’ll have them send up a key. Oh, wait. Shit. My phone’s in there too.”

  “We’re going to have to go to the front desk.”

  “Not how I intended to start our night.”

  I set her down, and she pats my chest. “It’s just all part of the adventure.” Taking my hand, we start walking back toward the elevators. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Well, I would. If I had my way, I’d be buried inside my wife already. Patience, Crow. Patience. Fuck. I’m so screwed.

  24

  Tulsa

  We step up to the counter and lean in to make sure no one else hears us. “We’re locked out of our room.”

  The woman looks back and forth between the two of us as if we’re criminals and she’s about to call the police to report us. Then she lowers her head and starts typing. “I’ll need to see your ID, sir.”

  “Well, that’s a funny story actually . . .” She looks up, not amused. I want to tell her how I just married this stunning woman, the love of my life, and I wanted to carry her over the threshold, but since we’re not allowed to talk about it, I say, “I put it right on the dresser but then stepped out, and the door closed.”

  “Pity. Unfortunately, without ID, I can’t issue a new key.” She turns her attention to Nikki. “Do you have ID? I can look up the room with your credit card or driver’s license.”

  Nikki sighs and rests her head on my arm. “I don’t. On some very bad advice, I tossed my purse into the room . . . before the door closed on us.”

  The front desk clerk begins typing furiously, the keyboard taking the brunt of her irritation. “What’s your name?”

  “Tulsa Crow.”

  Nikki turns around and starts people watching while we wait.

  Typing and more typing ensues.

  Then she stops. Her gaze slides up from the screen to me. “I’ve got no time for jokes. It may be three in the morning, but please save your pranks for another day.”

  “What prank? I don’t understand.”

  “The name you claim as yours is one of our VIP guests, but you know that already.” She whispers between tensed lips, “Please leave, or I’ll call security.”

  “But I’m him. Me. I’m Tulsa. For real. I play in a band—”

  “Next you’ll tell me she’s the lead singer of Faris Wheel.” Turning to the side, she raises her arm into the air. “Security!”

  “Wait! I really can prove who I am. You can look me up onli—”

  “Back away from the desk.”

  Nikki is laughing, but I’m really getting annoyed. I just want to be with my wife. “Tulsa?” I know the voice as soon as I hear it. I stare at the clerk behind the counter, hoping Dex keeps on walking. “Hey, what’s up, man?” Dex asks just as Nikki turns around. Furrowing his brow in confusion, he checks the time on his watch. “Hey, Nikki. What are you guys up to at this hour?”

  Rochelle is tucked under his arm, and with a smile, she says, “Hi, guys.”

  And then the worst acting ever begins. Over-the-top exaggeration of everything, I start with my fake surprise expression when I look at Nikki. “Nikki? What are you doing here?”

  If she weren’t giving me her are-we-really-doing-this look with pursed lips and narrowed eyes, I know she’d be smiling. Paddling to friendlier waters, I do smile. “Rochelle, good to see you.” I hug her, hoping to muffle any questions she might have regarding why Nikki and I are together at the front desk at three in the morning.

  As soon as I release her, Rochelle asks, “What are you doing here together?” Her gaze flicks back and forth before settling on me.

  Guess it didn’t work.

  Dex is staring at us in silence, not much different from his usual expression. He’s onto us, no doubt. I start to cave under the pressure. Tugging at my collar, which isn’t even buttoned, I plead for Nikki’s help. Silently, with my eyes, of course.

  Out of the corner of my eyes, I see a security guard taking his sweet time as he comes for us. “The front desk clerk thinks we’re impersonating Tulsa and Nikki.”

  “You are Tulsa and Nikki,” Rochelle says, pointing at us.

  “We tried to tell her,” Nikki says, closing our small circle and waggling a finger between us. “This is not what you think.”

  This is good. She’ll improvise better than I can. She’s used to being center stage. They shift their attention to her in curiosity while she scans the lobby and then leans in. Automatically, the three of us lean in even closer to hear her. “We didn’t just run into each other down here.”

  Wait, what? Where’s she going with this?

  “Tulsa and I got married,” she says, wrapping her arms around my left bicep and letting out a tiny squeal.

  “What?” Dex and Rochelle’s question and shock blur into each other’s, but then Dex asks, “Come again?”

  Rochelle whispers, “Didn’t you just meet in LA?”

  As Nikki stands there like the beautiful, beaming bride she is, hanging onto my arm, a security guard grabs my other. “Come with me, sir.”

  It all started so innocently.

  “Get your hands off him,” Dex warns. His mistake is reaching to remove the guard’s hand.

  Grabbed from behind, two other guards take hold of him. “Do you have weapons on your person?”

  “Get the fuck off—”

  Whether bandmate or brother, we stick together. I lunge forward to help because my ass is grass if one of my bosses gets arrested because of me. But more so because it’s a friend who’s just been blindsided.

  I free my arm, but then I’m zapped, sending electrical currents coursing through my body. I drop to my knees, and then my chest hits the purple and gray swirling carpet. The heel of a workman’s boot pushes on my back to hold me down as Nikki gasps and calls my name.

  The threats from the security guard are spewed from above me, “Don’t move . . . Lie still . . . under arrest . . . Step back, or I’ll arrest you too, ma’am.”

  Ma’am? Nikki?

  Fuck.

  Turning to the side, I watch as Rochelle grabs Nikki’s hand and pulls her away while I lie breathless from the weight of the boot on my back. The last view I have of her is with the tears she should never be crying sliding down her cheeks.

  They disappear into the crowd, and Dex and I are left lying here in the middle of the fucking lobby. My body hurts like I just ran a marathon and collapsed at the finish line—all aches and muscle spasms. Well, I imagine this is what it feels like since I’ve never run a marathon.

  Handcuffs are slapped on my wrists, and I’m yanked to my feet with my hands behind my back. Not the first time, but I never thought it would happen again. Face-to-face with Dex, who’s also sporting the latest in handcuff fashion, I say, “Well, this didn’t go as planned.”

  “Does her brother know?”

  “No. We were going
to surprise our families after the tour.”

  “They’ll be surprised all right.” Finding humor in this unfortunate event, he laughs. “Was that your first stun gun experience?”

  “Yeah. I take it you’ve been tagged before?”

  “I walked on the wild side when I was your age. I have a feeling you’ll have more to worry about than a stun gun,” he adds as we’re led out of the hotel.

  “Like?”

  “What would you do if someone married your twin sister in Vegas without you knowing?” He chuckles. “Once he finds out, you might be safer behind bars.”

  Fuck.

  “Sorry.” It’s weak because I’m embarrassed and feel like shit for taking Dex down with me.

  “Don’t worry about it. I’m sure the charges will be dropped.”

  “Why do you think that?”

  “Because we didn’t do anything wrong.” Leaning against the wall of the drunk tank, Dex stretches his legs out in front of him. “Anyway, if they really felt threatened, the cops would have put us in a jail cell.”

  “You have priors?”

  “Drunk and disorderly. Tonight, I wasn’t either. I assumed you were drunk since you married Nikki.” Leaning forward, he rests his arms on his legs and rubs his hands over his face. “What were you thinking marrying her, man?”

  Resting back against the cold concrete, I lower my head. “I love her.”

  “You don’t even know her.”

  “I know her. More than anyone can imagine.”

  “Fucking her is different than knowing her.”

  I laugh, though it’s not funny. “We haven’t even had sex yet.”

  His gaze darts to me. “Wait a minute. Back up. You haven’t had sex, but you married a woman you’ve known all of what . . . six weeks?”

  I nod, giving him all the confirmation he needs.

  He starts chuckling. “Damn, you must be in love. Do your brothers know?”

  “No. Only you and Rochelle.”

  “Wow, this is some honeymoon.”

  “You’re telling me.”

  A cop comes to the door. “Crow. Caggiano. You’re out.”

  Dex hits my shoulder. “Tommy’s here.”

  Tommy is twisted in his seat so he can make eye contact while lecturing us. At least that’s what he said. We’re not far from the hotel, so he’s been talking a mile a minute. “They’re not pressing charges. A formal public apology will be issued if the news hits any sites.”

  Dex asks, “It hasn’t already?”

  “The good thing is it happened so fast and at a time of night when many people weren’t in the lobby. I don’t think they knew who you were until it was too late. Rochelle will handle any videos that do hit, though.”

  “I heard some bullshit about a key, but,” he asks, eyeing me, “what’s the real story, Crow?”

  “I tried to get a key to my room after getting locked out. They claimed I wasn’t who I said I was. They thought I was a stalker of the famous Tulsa Crow.” I can’t help but laugh.

  He doesn’t say anything as he takes me in. After what feels like an hour, he says, “I saw the video.”

  There’s video? Shit.

  “Good.” Dex is a good guy for trying to cover for me. “Then you saw everything that went down with those assholes.”

  Tommy snickers. “Yeah, I saw everything all right.”

  Why am I suddenly worried? “When you say everything, you mean Dex and me getting cuffed, right?”

  “We had them pull the footage from outside your room as well to prove you were telling the truth about getting locked out.”

  And that would be why I was worried.

  Dex asks Tommy, “And?”

  “And it seems the youngest Crow bro and Nikki are, um . . . what are we calling it, Tulsa?”

  “Married.”

  That word is dangerous. Every time I say it, people get whiplash. Tommy rubs the back of his neck, but his eyes are still wide, staring back at me. “What the—” He turns on Dex. “Did you know about this?”

  I step in to put the focus where it needs to be, back on me. “He didn’t know. Nobody knew until we tried to get into our room and locked ourselves out of it.”

  Tommy sits back with his arm across the seat in front of us. “What a mess. I doubt Johnny will be happy about this.” Then he shakes his head and chuckles, although it sounds pained. “Laird is going to fucking freak.”

  Dex laughs. “I told Tulsa he was safer in jail.”

  Tommy chuckles. “For sure.”

  “I’m so glad you guys are having a good laugh at my expense, but I don’t get why everyone’s so worried about his reaction. She’s a grown woman who can make her own decisions.”

  Still laughing, Tommy says, “Your reputation precedes you, my friend. Also, let me remind you that you only met her six weeks ago. He’s not going to be worried about the marriage. He’s gonna flip out because you’re having sex with his sister.”

  Dex says, “He’s not.” Then shrugs. “Apparently, Crow can keep it in his pants.”

  “Wow, impressive.” Tommy exhales heavily. “I’d lead with that.”

  “I’m not leading with anything. Nikki and I decided to wait to tell everyone until after the tour. There’s enough to worry about already. She’s coming back to Austin with me for our three days off. Can you keep this under wraps?”

  They stop laughing, and Tommy asks, “I’m a fan of Nikki’s. I think she’s great, but what made you want to settle down with her?”

  “She’s not like other women.” As soon as I start talking, I feel stupid for admitting that. “She’s just different.”

  “Rochelle was like no woman I’d ever met.” Dex looks out the window, but continues, “She was confident and strong. Spoke with passion and was a bit bossy. She was everything I ever wanted.”

  He gets it. “Yes. Like that.”

  When he looks at me, he says, “But she was someone else’s confident, strong, passionate, and bossy girl.”

  I don’t know a lot about how he and Rochelle got together, but I know a few of the details. It’s not all sunshine and roses. It makes me think I’ve had it easy. I married my dream girl right after meeting her.

  The SUV comes to a stop in the garage. There are no other guests, but a security guard is standing by the elevator. Tommy says, “We’re going in the private entrance.”

  I’m about to pop the door open, but he says, “I won’t tell anyone, but you should. Sooner, rather than later. Secrets always have a way of coming out. You have an opportunity to get ahead of this one with both your families.”

  “We will. Just give us the three days.”

  Dex pats my shoulder. “Just remember it would be better to hear it from you guys than the gossip sites.”

  I open the door and get out. The three of us ride up the private elevator together. Tommy’s floor is the first stop. “Thanks for bailing us out,” I say.

  “That’s what I’m here for.” Before the door closes, he whips a key card from his pocket and hands it to me. “You might need this.”

  Taking it from him, I smile. “I definitely do.”

  “See you in Chicago, Crow. Later, brah.”

  Dex salutes him.

  Just before we arrive on my floor, I shake Dex’s hand. “Thank you for coming to my defense.”

  “Band is family. Even if you’re not in mine, your band is a part of our label. We stick together.” The door slides open, and he adds, “Congratulations on the nuptials.”

  “Thanks.” I step off with the key card in hand. I don’t know where Rochelle took Nikki earlier or where she is now, but as soon as I get a hold of my phone, I’m calling her.

  25

  Tulsa

  The scene of the crime—this door is where all my troubles began three hours earlier. Nothing’s going to keep me from getting to my wife.

  Tommy kept the women out of this mess because of potential media coverage, but damn if I’m not worried. Considering the last time I
saw her was with tears in her eyes, I need to make sure she’s okay and show her that I am.

  Before I have a chance to slip in the key nice and slow, like I was showing my bride earlier, the door swings open.

  There she is—white lace bra, matching panties, and those sexy fucking shoes she was wearing earlier. “What took you so long, my husband?”

  “I got held up, my wife.”

  She grabs the front of my shirt and tugs me inside. The door slams shut, and I’m immediately pinned to the wall while she rubs my dick with the palm of her hand. “I’m going to have so much fun punishing you for keeping me waiting on my wedding night.”

  Raising my hands in surrender, I grin. “If making me hard is punishment, punish away.” This is a sight I’ll never tire of, but as she starts to unbuckle my belt and dip lower, I stop her. Wrapping both her hands in mine, I hold them to my chest. “Maybe I’m a fool for stopping you like this. When the most beautiful woman in the world wants to give you a blowjob, you should let her.”

  Her foot goes in the air as she leans against me, smiling. “Then let her.”

  “But I screwed everything up earlier, and I want to make it up to you.”

  “Oh, yeah?” She lifts up and kisses my chin. “Do tell.”

  I wrap one arm around her middle and grab her ass with my free hand after spinning her around. “I’m going to shower and wash the jail stench off my body.”

  “Now that is something I never thought I’d hear on my wedding night.”

  The long blond hair that covers her shoulder hides her neck, so I shift it to the other side to kiss her skin. “To make things worse, it’s not night anymore.” We both look toward the window at the same time as the sun rises, touching the peaks of the mountains in the distance.

  “We missed out first night together.”

  “It’s not about one night. It’s about the rest of our lives, darlin’.”

  Her back hits my chest as she relaxes against me. I wrap myself around her and take in everything that is my wife—her scent, the feel of her soft skin, the pace of her breath, and the beats of her heart, wanting all of her to become part of me.