by Angel Payne
The second girl, probably a little older, wore too much eye makeup and an inch of lip gloss that reminded him of the damn lavender cake. “Ohmygawd, he thought we were asking him for the time,” she said. “Ohmygawd, that’s so humble.” She twirled her hair around a purple fingernail. “And hot.”
Z frowned. “Pardon me?”
The little blond let out a sigh. “Um, I think what we’re trying to say is…um, you are Zeke Hayes, right?”
“You totally are,” insisted the brunette. “I mean, come on, Jade, look at him!” She gingerly poked his arm. “Ohmygawd, your muscles are way huger in person. And so hard.”
He shot a gape at Garrett. His friend was already wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. He was getting no fucking help there.
“What you did to those two creepazoids on Saturday night was amazing,” Jade gushed. “When we saw you on the news, we were so proud to be Seattleites, just like you. I called my stepsister in Omaha and totally bragged that you’re from Lewis-McChord. Your woman is so lucky. Do you think I could have her cell? I want to find a guy just like you, Zeke. Could she give me pointers on how to do it?”
“Uh, listen—she’s not—”
My woman. The conclusion clung to the inside of his mind tighter than the inside of his mouth. The syllables wrapped themselves through the rest of him, too, ribbons that twirled through every nerve and muscle and breath… that were all imprinted with Rayna. Her bright beauty. Her cinnamon scent. Her husky laugh. Her pure, sweet passion. She was wound so deeply into him…
And now you’re going to have to cut those ribbons out, man. Every single one of them. Soon, goddamnit.
“She’s not what?” Jade queried with wide-eyed hope.
Just not now.
“She’s—erm—not around. Yeah, uh—we’re getting married. I mean, we have friends who’re getting married. She’s busy helping with all the plans. Not here. She’s doing it—uh—somewhere else. I probably need to be getting back, too, and—”
“Could we have your autograph real quick?” Lavender Lipgloss asked it with a sweet grin. She was better at the eye-batting thing than her friend.
Zeke glowered. “What the hell do you want that for?”
Garrett stepped forward. “Sorry, girls. We haven’t given him his medication yet today. Of course you can have his autograph. Got a pen?” He accepted a Sharpie from Jade then handed it to Z. “Paper?”
“Don’t need any.” The brunette jerked down the neckline of her shirt, exposing half of her full, pale breast. “Just sign right here, Sergeant Hottie.”
To Garrett’s credit, he didn’t spit up any residual cake in laughter. But damn, did his eyes say he wanted to. They glittered with bright blue mirth as his lips twitched, also fighting not to explode with his obvious delight in this ridiculous scene. “Go ahead, Sergeant Hottie.”
Zeke jabbed the pen back into his chest. “No.”
“Huh?” The girl pouted her shiny lips. “Why not?”
“Hawk, I’m not signing that chick’s left headlight.”
“I think these are what you girls might need?”
Magically, a couple of issues of the Stranger materialized in front of the girls. While Z was grateful for something to write on other than their chests, he gawked at the paper’s front page, and realized way too late that Garrett was doing the same thing. The alt culture periodical featured a shot of him from behind in the rain, the blood from the gash in his back running down his back. He looked like some idiot off a comic book, an impression that got driven home by the headline.
Batman Lives.
The mire in his gut got stirred into a straight-up case of holy shit when he looked up to thank his savior.
“Luna.”
She looked strange. She looked…normal. Aside from the lavender and silver streaks in her hair, which was pulled back with a nondescript headband, she could’ve been another pretty girl going about her day in this strip mall. She wore normal blue jeans that were topped with a pretty hand-painted T-shirt that he recognized as her own work thanks to the sleeping white cat depicted at the edge of one sleeve. Even her makeup was subdued. And kind of nice.
“Hi, stranger.” She said it with a smile that bordered on nervous.
“Hey,” he managed to stammer. “How did you—I mean what are you—”
“There’s a great art supply place down the street. But I like the barbecue place in here, so I stopped to pick up dinner for later.”
She gave the explanation as he whisked off a couple of signatures for the girls. As he let Jade snap a picture of him and Lipgloss, Garrett shocked the crap out of him by smiling at Luna. Since the second they’d met, the two had been repelling magnets. As soon as they got near each other, their disgust made the earth leave its axis.
“Thanks. Your timing was perfect, Morticia.” Hawk added a wink to the nickname he usually flung at her in dismissive ire.
Maybe the earth’s axis was doomed again, since Luna actually laughed. “Anytime, Cousin It.”
Garrett scratched at his hair, which matched Z’s in the thick-and-styleless department. “Ha ha. Guess I’ll own that one, at least for another hour. Then it’s all back to a high-and-tight.”
“Getting ready for the big day, huh?” She finished it with another laugh, in response to Garrett’s stunned stare. “You and Sage were the subject of most conversations at the club last night. Congratulations, by the way.”
Hawk’s grin widened. “Thanks.”
Zeke shifted forward. “As much as I hate to rip apart this alternate universe we’ve clearly entered, can I ask for a second with Morticia, Hawk Man?”
“No prob,” his friend returned. “I’ll handle the turn-in while you do that. So hand over the Batsuit, dude. I’ll make sure they remember no starch.”
“Thanks, Alfred.” He gave the uniform to his friend with a satisfyingly harsh shove.
As Garrett chuckled and turned into the shop, Z dug his hands into his back pockets and nudged his head gently toward a little alcove near a door marked Smoothie Bar Employees Only. Luna followed his direction without a word, pressing herself against the wall.
Once he joined her, Zeke took a long second to look her over—carefully this time. She kept her head slightly bowed, her eyes fixed on his chest, and her hands gracefully to her sides. Oh, yeah. She had it all down perfect. Luna always did. She was flawless about the stance, the posture, the demeanor, the phrases. Regrettably, she thought that was all it took. Her impatience had torpedoed even second sessions with so many Doms. He’d told her that before, promising she’d always have his honesty.
That promise didn’t stop now.
“So…hey,” he finally repeated.
She watched his hands as he shifted them in his pockets. Her gaze darkened with disappointment. Don’t think about it, girl. They’re staying right there.
“Hey,” she replied quietly.
“I’m glad we ran into each other.”
She shot a glance up to his face. “Yeah. Welcome back.” Almost like an afterthought, she added, “From wherever you were.”
“Luna, about that—”
“Skip it.” She held up a hand and curled it back against her neck. “I’m serious, Z. You don’t have to do this. I understand, okay? Saturday night was great. Thank you…for everything. But afterward, I wasn’t a priority. I didn’t expect to be. You had shit to take care of, and—”
He disobeyed his own damn rule to flash a hand up, slamming it over her mouth. “Damn it, you were a priority,” he leveled. “Your submission was incredible. I’m humbled that you trusted me as you did. And I would have told all of that to you a hundred times if shit hadn’t gone down like it did with that bastard Mua and his goons.”
She nodded and lifted an unblinking gaze up through her lashes. The dark purple flecks in her eyes glittered as the late afternoon sun bathed her face. When he lowered his hand, she murmured, “You don’t like him very much, do you?”
“To put it mildly.”
He peered at her in curiosity. The question wasn’t normal for Luna. She wasn’t the nosy poodle type. She was the watchful cat in the corner, seeing everything, forgetting nothing, revealing only if there was a worthy treat in the process. That meant he had to phrase his reply with care. The shit that had gone down with King was classified. For all intents, despite the viral video and the news coverage, the shit that had gone down on Saturday in the street was, too.
“Scars,” he finally said. “Gashes that are long over but remembered forever.”
The glints in her eyes were joined by a wet sheen. She gulped deep. “Yeah. I know the feeling.”
Zeke winced. He knew the remorse wasn’t required of him but it showed up, anyhow. He followed up on every play session with a subbie, no matter how big or small their exchange. For Luna, Saturday night had been big. Blowing-up-the-Death-Star big. And he’d flown right out of the galaxy.
“Luna, listen—”
“Didn’t I say to skip it?” The cat came out of the corner, damn near hissing the words. “I said I understand, Z. You had bigger issues at hand than my sub drop. I got it, I got it.”
He moved in and braced a hand to the wall next to her head. “You have every right to be tweaked. But I have every right to explain.”
“There’s nothing to explain.”
“I had no idea Rayna was going to show up.”
“But she did.” Her lips twisted. “Didn’t she? Oh, how lucky for all of us that Princess Rayna chose to grace the Bastille with her resplendence!”
He cracked his neck. Why the fuck wasn’t that working to knock thoughts properly anymore? “Be careful where you’re going with this, Luna.”
“Like you were careful on Saturday, Sir? Like you thought about anything when her highness got into trouble? Or did you just activate your royal guard card and fly to her side, hoping to hear her gasp in sweet thanks?”
He shoved away. For the first time ever, this woman really scared him. The vehemence in her voice, fired so completely at Rayna, awakened every hair of the grizzly in him. Like that bear, he exercised a choice. Walk away from the provoker or tear them open with a swipe of his paw. He decided on the former before the latter tempted him deeper.
“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that, girl.” He growled the last word so low, she wouldn’t be confused about his meaning. “And maybe you should, too.”
He pivoted, only to be yanked back. “Zeke!” she sobbed. “Please, no!” He caught a glimpse of her crumpled face before she threw herself against him. “I’m sorry.” She wound one hand over his shoulder and the other under his opposite arm, squeezing him in an awkward hug. “I’m so, so sorry.”
A pool of wetness soaked through the front of his shirt. Zeke sighed and held her in return. Fuck. He was so starting to lose his edge.
“I’m sorry, too,” he mumbled.
She whispered her desperate thanks and pulled on him tighter. Pain flared down his back.
“Ow.” He got the word out on a laugh, half grateful for the excuse to set her back. Luna bit her lip as she swiped at her running mascara.
“Oh, God,” she blurted. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
Z shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. One of Mua’s assholes nicked me with a knife on Saturday. You put the squeeze on the most tender part of the wound.”
“Oh hell, Z.” She grabbed at his shoulders. “I—I didn’t know—”
“Of course you didn’t.”
To his relief, Garrett appeared. “Z,” he pressed, “we gotta fly. Sage just texted me with two new things for the damn list.”
He grabbed one of Luna’s hands and squeezed. “So…are we cool?”
She smiled but the look wavered as if her brain was directing her to do something else. Z told himself it wasn’t his problem, that she wasn’t his problem, but he worried. He made a mental note to chat later with Max about her. They’d see each other at Hawk’s bachelor bash. The club owner would definitely be there, since he’d be getting his Jag back from Zeke at the same time.
“We’re cool, Zeke,” she confirmed. She wrapped both her hands around his. “We always will be, okay?”
“You bet. See you around, then?”
“Yeah. See you around.”
He turned and made his way to where Hawk waited, the truck already started. He didn’t look back. He already knew he’d find Luna still gazing at him. Watching him like the cat in the corner, waiting until her moment to strike was absolutely right.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Just twenty more minutes.”
The second Rayna said it, her eyes locked with Sage’s in the mirror.
They squealed together.
That did nothing to help the warm sting behind her eyes. “Oh, Sage,” she breathed, resting her chin on her friend’s shoulder. “Oh, my.”
She was a breathtaking bride. Her dark blond hair, now extra thick because of the pregnancy hormones, hung in long loose curls that fell from beneath a simple white headband adorned with purple and white wildflowers. She wore a white knit sweater that had gold threads woven into it, tied with a purple satin sash. Because of that, her gown’s bodice was simple, flowing into a skirt of multiple lace layers that stopped mid-calf in front, sloping to the ground in back. Her shoes, which were actually low-heeled white lace boots, completed the look.
“Sweetie, you’re so beautiful.”
Sage twisted her hands. “I’m so nervous!”
“Whaaat?”
The exclamation bounced through the room, as things usually did when they were issued by Sage’s mom. Heidi Weston burst into the room like the doting, excited mother of the bride that she was, her gold dress swishing around her tall body and her joy-filled hazel eyes.
“Mom!” Sage surged to her feet and rushed into her mother’s arms. Rayna watched them with a wistful pang. The last time she’d hugged her own mom had been at Sea-Tac, a month after her twelfth birthday. Mom had volunteered for an aid trip to Honduras, then devastated by Hurricane Mitch. Though she’d been immunized against malaria, there had been no time to start on pills, too. She’d died doing what she loved best: helping others who needed it the most.
“Rayna!” Heidi charged. “Get your backside over here, girl; don’t think you’re getting out of this.”
She giggled but steeled herself. The guys at the base’s sports bar hadn’t nicknamed the woman “Mama Vise Grip” for nothing. Heidi hugged people with every muscle in her body. Today was no exception. Rayna gasped in tandem with her friend as they got squeezed together.
“Heidi!” A man’s voice buzzsawed the air. “You want me walkin’ her down the aisle or shuttlin’ her to the med center for cracked ribs?”
An older, barrel-chested man entered, his uniform decorated with enough medals to trim a Christmas tree. Rayna joined Sage in throwing grateful glances to him.
“Baby!” Heidi ran over to him, foregoing the rib torture in favor of curling herself against his chest.
“Major Boone.” Sage offered her hand and a smile. “Aren’t you the dashing one today?”
The man’s face crunched on a frown. “Sagie Pie, I’ve known you since you were twelve. Your mother’s been wearin’ my engagement ring for a year. Can we try for ‘Dad’ today?”
Sage’s eyes glimmered. Rayna swallowed hard, witnessing her friend struggle with the request. She’d shared water rations, dirt cages and complete life stories with this woman. To Sage, the only meaning that went with “Dad” was the alcoholic asshole who’d skipped on her and Heidi when Sage was ten. In a moment of ugliness that didn’t belong with the day, Rayna entertained a secret fantasy that the man had hooked up with Zeke’s mom and they’d died of alcohol poisoning together.
Her friend’s watery sigh jerked her back to the moment. “How about ‘Walker’?” she suggested to the major.
He beamed. “That’ll be just fine.”
Rayna fidgeted with the cowl neckline of her own dress. The soft dark
purple wool hugged the rest of her torso, including long bell sleeves that were emulated in the flowing swirl of the tea length skirt. “I still want to know the meaning of ‘Sagie Pie,’” she quipped.
“Another day!” Sage chuckled.
The major stepped back and admired her from head to toe. He jutted his chin as his eyes glittered over. “Dear God, Sage,” he rasped. “That boy’s gonna want to throw you over his shoulder and cart you off to the woods before any of us can utter a felicitation.”
“Aww, Walker. Th—”
Sage interrupted herself on a gasp.
“The woods!”
Rayna cried it together with her.
“What about the woods?” questioned Heidi. “What’s wrong?”
“My bouquet,” Sage explained. “I wanted it to contain some wildflowers from the local forest.” Her eyes misted again. “Ava and Ethan volunteered to go pick the flowers, but that was an hour ago.” She swung a pleading look to them all. “The flowers are important. Thinking of this place…the lake, the egrets, the flowers…kept me sane so much of last year.”
Her voice faltered through the last part of it. Rayna grabbed her hand and twisted hard. “Don’t cry,” she ordered. “You don’t get to cry until Garrett does, missie.”
Sage’s gaze sparked with such bright green tints, she seemed a mischievous fairy. “You’re sounding exactly like Zeke Hayes on some very scary levels, Ray.” She broke out in a laugh as Rayna felt her whole face being dunked in the blush bucket. “Oh. My. God. Rayna Chestain! We are so talking about this during the reception!”
“Damn, dear.” The mutter came from the major. “You’re right. They really do have a language all their own.”
Rayna knew a good chance for escape when she had one. “I’m going to go find Ava and Ethan,” she announced, riveting her gaze to the floor as she scooted to the door. If Sage got another look at her now, her friend would detect the truth, all of it, in a second. Then she’d end up spilling what had gone down during she and Zeke’s own trip to the woods yesterday. The last thing her friend needed today was a maid of honor sobbing for all the wrong reasons.
