by A. S. Teague
A tingle shoots to my core, and I murmur, “Then take me there.”
It’s overcast the day of our first official date. It has been two weeks since I declared Rebecca my girlfriend, and even though she protested the label to her brother, she didn’t have much to say when I told her that she was my girl after we’d slept together.
She actually didn’t say anything, instead communicating her agreement with her mouth.
On my cock.
I had no complaints, either.
The charity exhibition was a huge success, and it has been busy at the gym ever since. Along with raising a substantial amount for the Make-A-Wish Foundation, we also had an influx of new clients wanting to train with us. Several of our guys, including Mickey, are preparing for a fight next weekend, so today is the first night we’ve both had free.
We had lunch with Gram and a cookout with her family, but I still don’t consider those or any of the nights we’ve spent together actual dates. Even though it isn’t in the budget this week––let’s be honest, it probably never will be––I insisted on taking her out.
The city has been in the state of a drought for the last month, but when I arrive to pick her up, the sky finally opens up after merciless days of blazing heat, releasing a downpour of rain.
Walking her to the car with an umbrella over our heads, I say, “This weather sucks.”
She shrugs and smiles. “I don’t mind the rain.”
“I do. It was the reason I moved away from Washington the minute I had a little money in my pocket. I couldn’t stand the constant dreariness.” I point up at the overcast sky. “Rain’s always been a bad omen for me.”
Stopping in front of the car door, she turns to face me. “I don’t like the dreariness, either. If it were constant, I think I’d go insane.” She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath in through her nose. “But, Ry, that smell. There’s something comforting about the smell of freshly fallen rain on the grass in the middle of summer. It takes me back to my childhood. Reminds me of when I was a kid, chasing after my brother through the woods, splashing in the pond in our neighborhood, catching the ball my daddy would throw to me.” She pauses, her eyes still closed, a smile playing at her lips.
I fight the urge to kiss them, and she rewards me by telling me her thoughts.
“There was nothing I loved more than when the clouds would darken and the rain would fall and Tripp and I would run outside and dance in the rain.”
The memories the rain held for me were all sad, but watching Rebecca express her love of it washes them from my mind. The way her face calms when she speaks makes me thankful that today is the day our drought finally ended. I’m still staring at her face when her eyes pop open, sparkling mischievously.
“Ryker?” she asks quietly.
I raise my eyebrows.
“Dance in the rain with me?”
I stare at her. We’re dressed for a date, her in heels and a sundress, me in slacks and a button-down. She couldn’t possibly be serious. But she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth and grins before yanking the umbrella from my hand and tossing it behind me.
The moment the fat drops hit her head, she begins laughing. The sound of it is infectious, and it’s only a moment before I join in with her.
Rebecca throws her arms to the sides and begins twirling in circles, her head back. I wrap my arms around her waist, lifting her off her feet and spinning around while holding her.
We’re both completely soaked in a matter of moments, but neither of us cares. When I’m too dizzy to make another spin, I set her feet on the ground and her back against my car.
She peers up into my eyes and whispers, “See, Ryker? Isn’t it beautiful? To be free? To be young? To dance in the rain?”
I laugh. “It’s wet is what it is. And you’re the only one who’s young here.”
“You’re right. Thirty-six is ancient. You’re one step away from a nursing home. How’d I end up dating an old man like you?” She winks.
I pointedly tilt my head to the side. “That’s not what you said last night when you were begging for a break.” I waggle my eyebrows, and she giggles before grabbing my soaked shirt and pulling me close to her.
“Kiss me, old man,” she commands.
I waste no time before obeying her, my mouth crashing into hers. The rain continues to fall heavily, and we’re soaking wet, but I don’t give a shit. The taste of her mouth and the feel of her breasts pressed against my chest causes my cock to swell.
I’m half a second away from dragging her back into the house and having my way with her when a clap of thunder erupts from the sky, startling us.
Rebecca laughs, and l lean forward, resting my forehead against hers.
“Wanna get out of these wet clothes and order pizza?” she asks.
Relieved, I nod. When I told Rebecca that I wanted to take her out, she excitedly asked if I would take her to the fondue restaurant that just opened near the gym. I agreed, checked their website out, and almost had heart failure over the prices.
Taking Rebecca to dinner was going to mean not paying the electric bill for another two weeks and praying that they wouldn’t cut it off before my next payday. But there was no way in hell I was telling her that I couldn’t afford it, especially considering she’d spent the rest of that day daydreaming about the food she was going to order.
“You sure you don’t mind skipping dinner?” I ask, praying that she doesn’t.
She sighs. “Yeah. I mean, I was looking forward to a pot of cheese, but you can always take me there next weekend.”
Looking away, I grimace at the thought of trying to scrape the money together next week, but I tell her. “You’re right. Next week will be better.”
Grinning, she sings, “Race you into the house! Loser has to buy sushi lunch next week!”
Mustering a fake smile, I tell her, “You’re on!”
Her grin broadens, and she reaches down, pulling her heels off before tossing them in my direction, and sprinting for the door.
I easily catch the shoes while my brain screams for me to be a gentleman and let her win. My wallet, on the other hand, cries, begging me to be a douche and smoke her ass.
Trotting after her, I breathe a silent apology to my stomach, promising I’ll at least switch up the flavor of ramen noodles this week.
***
“So, why don’t we ever go back to your house?” she asks, lacing her fingers through mine.
We’re lying in her king-sized bed after an embarrassing dinner at the fondue restaurant. True to her word, Rebecca made reservations for the following weekend.
When the waiter brought the bill, I didn’t even look at the total, instead sliding my credit card into the check folder and handing it right over. Moments after that, the waiter returned to whisper in my ear that my card had been declined. Trying to mask my sudden panic, I handed over another card and began silently bargaining with whomever was listening up above to let it go through.
When the manager appeared with the card sleeve to ask if there was any reason why both my cards hadn’t worked, I began to sweat.
Rebecca looked confused as I stumbled over my words, trying to make up a reason as to why neither of my cards were working, and then she handed her own credit card over.
I thought I’d been embarrassed when I’d been publicly shamed for my illicit drug use, but not being able to take my woman to a nice dinner was a new low.
The thought of taking her back to my rathole apartment after her paying for our dinner causes my stomach to roll. I was already counting my lucky stars that Rebecca is into me. If she finds out I am flat broke, I’m not sure she’ll still be as interested. It doesn’t seem like she is the gold-digger type. It’s obvious she is capable of taking care of herself, but I don’t have much to offer her these days.
I lift our hands to my lips and kiss her fingers. Turning my head away from her, I say quietly, “Thanks again for paying for dinner tonight. I don’t know what the fuck was wrong with my cards. I
’ll get it sorted Monday morning and pay you back.”
“Yeah, that was so strange. But it’s not a big deal. I just hope there isn’t any issue with your bank account.”
The only issue is that it’s empty.
I nod in agreement. “Yeah, me, too. I’ve had some fraudulent activity recently. Maybe it’s tied to that.” Lie.
“Really?” she asks. “Like what?”
Running my thumb over her hand, I say, “Oh, you know. Someone stealing my card number and running up charges. The bank said they cleared it up, but apparently not.” More lies.
She rolls to her side and throws a leg over my waist, resting her chin on my chest. “You didn’t answer me.” She’s kissing my chest, and I wonder if she can feel my heart pounding under her lips.
“Hmmm? What question?” I ask.
“Ugh. Do you ever listen to me?” she huffs, a freshly manicured nail tapping my nose.
I snap my teeth at her finger, and she pulls her hand away, laughing.
“Of course I listen to you.” Grabbing her hand, I pull her offending finger into my mouth and gently suck.
She releases a breathy moan.
Releasing her hand, I grasp under her arms and slide her up my chest until her face hovers over mine. “See? I listened when you told me how much you liked that.” Lifting my head, I press my lips to hers and fist a handful of her silky hair.
As she plunges her tongue into my mouth, she groans with desire and I tell myself that Rebecca doesn’t care about what I can buy her.
After rolling her to the side, I quickly mount her, my cock straining behind the fly of my jeans.
Yet, for some reason, I still can’t shake the feeling of inadequacy.
***
“So, you two really are an item,” Tripp states, pointing back and forth between Rebecca and me, a tortilla chip in his hand. He obviously had a few beers before we arrived, because he’s slinging cheese dip all over the place.
“That’s what he tells me,” she answers, perched on my knee. “And Jesus, Tripp, quit waving that damn thing all over the place. You got queso in my hair!”
We’re at her parents’ house for another cookout, something I’ve come to learn happens nearly every weekend during the summer.
“Oh, Mouse, please. You haven’t stopped gushing about Ryker here in over a month,” her mom scolds, a grin on her face.
“Four weeks, six days, and twelve hours to be exact,” I say proudly.
Tripp coughs, “Pussy,” under his breath, but I choose to ignore it. For now, anyway.
I have more pressing issues to deal with. “I’m sorry. Did you call her Mouse?”
Rebecca turns her body toward Cynthia and narrows her eyes. “You’re ruining my reputation as a hard-ass, Ma!”
Laughter erupts from all around the patio table. I join in, enjoying the banter between them. It’s obvious that the Tolers are a close-knit family, and Rebecca is the apple of her parents’ eyes. A pang of jealousy overwhelms me when I think about how differently her childhood was from my own.
Deciding not to dwell on a past I can’t change, I quickly push the memories of my mother dropping me off at Gram’s for a weekend that became a lifetime to the back of my mind and refocus on the conversation going on around me.
From his position behind the grill, Rebecca’s dad shouts, “You’re a brave man, Ryker!” He points a grill fork that has a smoked sausage on the end of it in her direction. “Our Reb there’s a handful. She always was a spitfire. Strong-willed as a child, and then, once she hit her teen years, high maintenance.” He exaggeratedly clutches his chest. “Thought I was gonna go broke trying to cater to her expensive tastes.”
She giggles in my lap and rolls her eyes. “Whatever, Daddy. You know you loved every minute of my youth.”
I can imagine that Rebecca was everything he said she was, and probably more, when she was growing up. The way she doesn’t put up with my shit, or any of the guys at the gym, is a huge turn-on. I’ve never been attracted to weak women, always wanting one who could stand up for herself.
You got that and more.
Gram is a strong, independent woman and always told me that I needed a woman who wasn’t ever afraid to speak her mind and argue her point, even if I was on the receiving end of that argument.
And just because she is getting up there in age and was forced to move in with me due to her ever-limited mobility, she is still the fiercest, no-nonsense woman I know. Although, the more time I spend with Rebecca, the more I begin to think she could probably give her a run for her money. It is no wonder that, after just two visits with her, Gram declared her the best thing since sliced bread and all but threatened my life if I did anything to jeopardize our budding relationship.
But her dad’s statement about almost causing him to go broke freaks me out.
Reb is obviously capable of taking care of herself. I shudder when I think about the amount of money she spends each week between her trips to the nail salon and shopping excursions at the mall with Sidney.
But what if she expects her husband to take the finances over one day? What if she thinks it’s the man’s job to be the breadwinner?
I have no problem taking care of my woman. If she wants to work and be independent, then I would wholeheartedly support her ambition.
But, if she wants to settle down with a family and stay home with the kids, then there is no way in fuck I am denying her that wish.
But, right now, and for the foreseeable future, ponying up for a two-story house with a white picket fence and a minivan in the garage is a pipe dream. Not that I think Rebecca would ever want a minivan.
I am surviving on Pop-Tarts and ramen noodles most days, except for the times Breccan or Tripp have lunch catered at work or when I forego a bill to take Rebecca out.
My stomach rolls at the thought of confessing the state of my finances to Rebecca. It wasn’t always like this. I used to be paid big money for fights. But, with Gram’s medical bills and everyday living expenses, my savings quickly dried up. My imagination runs wild when I try to envision her reaction when I tell her that I am planning to take a title loan out on my Chevelle in a couple days, and bile creeps up the back of my throat.
I try to check my grimace before anyone sees it, but Aly’s staring at me from across the table. I give her a halfhearted smile, and I’m not surprised when she rolls her eyes and then looks back down at her phone.
She and Tripp are sitting across from us, but unlike Rebecca and me, they’ve barely looked at each other throughout the afternoon. As a matter of fact, I’ve caught Aly rolling her eyes at something Tripp’s said several times. She hasn’t bothered to tear her gaze away from her phone for most of the day and point-blank ignored Breccan the one time he tried speaking to her.
I finally understand why Rebecca calls her the Ice Queen and can’t fathom what Tripp sees in her. Regardless of her cold demeanor, Tripp and the rest of the family are enjoying themselves, and I find myself caught up in it.
After we finish eating the best meal I’ve had all week, everyone helps clear the table and we sit down to play a round of poker.
“You not drinking, Ryker?” Breccan asks, a beer bottle in one hand, his other holding Sidney’s hand.
Sidney’s holding their daughter, Olivia, in her lap. The baby squirms, twisting around to grab a handful of her mother’s hair. Sidney laughs and gently murmurs in her ear before peppering her chubby cheek with kisses.
I shake my head. “Driving.”
He nods and turns his attention back to Tripp. I glance over and see Rebecca watching Olivia and Sidney with a soft smile.
My heart squeezes.
I hook an arm around her shoulders, and once she leans closer to me, I ask quietly, “You want kids one day?”
Her eyes meet mine, and she lifts a shoulder almost imperceptibly. “I’ve never really thought about it. They’re expensive. And a total cramp to my lifestyle.” She glances back at the baby and says, “But, God. Look at how
beautiful Olivia is. And how patient Sidney is with her.” She shakes her head. “And Breccan. If you’d ever told me he was gonna be a daddy to a baby girl, I would have accused you of doing drugs. But the way he looks at that child. It’s the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.” Her eyes shimmer with unshed tears.
I press my lips to her forehead. “I’ve always wanted kids. Just never met anyone worth bringing them into this world with. Maybe, now, I have.”
Her body tenses in my lap.
Holy shit, did I just say that out loud? Yes. Yes. I did. But I also fucking meant it.
Her eyes widen, and she places her palm against my cheek. I hold her gaze and refuse to look away and ruin this moment between us.
A snotty voice breaks in, killing the moment.
“Are you going to play or continue to sit there and make us all sick to our stomachs?” Aly asks.
Rebecca blinks then clears her throat before whispering, “Wow, that got deep. I’m still not even sure I’m that into you.” She winks at me. Then whips her head to the side and pins Aly with a glare. “Don’t be jealous, Aly. It’s not our fault Tripp can barely stand to look at you.”
Although I want to be shocked at her bluntness, Rebecca’s comments don’t surprise me. And, judging from the way everyone around us continues the game as though the words hadn’t been spoken, it seems that Reb’s comments aren’t anything new.
“You okay to drive, doll?” I ask as I push to my feet. When she wrinkles her brow, I tell her, “Need a beer. You okay to drive?”
All of this talk of babies and thoughts of providing for a wife, two things I’ve not often thought of before, has my brain swimming, and I suddenly need a drink more than I ever have in my life.
When she nods, I shift her off my lap and make a beeline for the cooler.
Stretching my arms above my head, I relish in the delicious ache of my muscles. It was a particularly energetic night last night after we’d gotten home from my parents’ house.
Ryker drank more than I’ve ever seen him drink and laid the myth of whiskey dick to rest. There may be men in this world who can’t get it up after a night of drinking, but Ryker is not one of them. Quite the opposite, in fact. He had more stamina than I could keep up with, and after three rounds, I found myself tapping out, much to his dismay.
