by Bellus, HJ
Marvel: I’m getting hard just thinking about it.
Me: blah blah.
Marvel: Why are you smiling down at your phone if you’re so pissy?
I glance up from my phone and see my cowboy standing in front of me. His texts completely sidetracked me and had my mind racing and my thighs beginning to rub together. Although I’ll never admit it to him, he was the perfect cure for a case of the pissy.
“Someone need a hug?” He throws his arms wide open to me.
“And three shots of tequila, but I’ll take my hug first.”
My feet dangle in the air as I’m smothered in the mother of all bear hugs. Marvel manages to lift me from the ground, squeezing tight, and then nibbles on the tender flesh in the crook of my neck.
“Bad day, baby?”
I just moan, enjoying the sensation of being held, bit, and licked by him. My feet once again grace the floor, and it takes me a second to get love-jolted sea legs steady under me.
“It’s all better now.” I tap the tip of his nose.
“Your chariot awaits, princess.” He turns his back to me, taking a wide stance. “Jump on.”
“No,” I squeal. “I’ll break your spine, and then you’ll end up in the operating room.”
“Now.” His voice is determined.
I don’t argue this time, but before leaping onto his back I secure my purse across my shoulders and neck.
“Ready?” I ask, but bolt right around him before he can answer. I’m halfway to the rotating doors that lead to the parking before I hear him call out, “You little shit.”
Challis’ truck is only about twenty feet from the entrance, but hands wrap around my waist, and then I’m tossed up and over his shoulder. A stinging sensation lands on my ass as he paddles me on the way to the truck. When he opens the door, laughter rolls out of the cab. I’m not sure how he does it, but he leaps up in the back seat, slides me down from my perch, and sits me in his lap facing the front seat.
I notice we have quite the full audience with all eyes on us. Ella, the only other person in the back seat with us, with her legs stretched out. She looks quite comfortable. Merek behind the wheel, Challis at his side, and Maverik huddled up in the passenger seat. I don’t need to ask questions to know he’s up there giving his wife the comfort of two of the back seats.
“Clover wants shots,” Marvel announces to the truck.
“Damn, I knew I liked you for some reason, little lady.” Merek smiles back at me with all of his pearly whites shining.
“Bad day?” Ella asks.
I shrug, really not knowing how to explain to the group of people who took me and protected me that I’ve been on an emotional roller coaster today, and mostly because of the secrets they’re keeping from me.
I go with, “Just a meltdown, that’s all.”
Marvel wraps his arms around me a bit tighter, pulling my back into his chest. His hands run up and down my thighs, leaving behind a heated trail rippling through my skin. The thin fabric of my scrubs are not helping the situation at all, and when his hand lands right between my legs and pushes up into my center, I find it hard to follow the conversation, let alone speak a coherent word.
Merek and Maverik go on about how badass his ride was and the bullshit scoring of another cowboy that had a junk horse. I barely follow the rodeo lingo but blame it mainly on the man holding me and tantalizing me. Challis remains still as a statue between the two going on about the sport all the Slatters love. I’ve learned more about rodeo and the love of running a horse from Challis than anything else while being here. I feel like shit second-guessing all my problems when I damn well know tonight was the first rodeo where Challis didn’t get to compete or sit atop a horse. No trailer is hooked to her beautiful green truck.
I reach forward and gently squeeze her shoulder until she looks at me over her shoulder. I whisper “love you” to her because I actually do love her like a sister I never had—same with Ella. But it was Challis who brazenly handed me over a fistful of courage as she taught me my way around a horse. She only shoots a wink back at me. She’s one tough cookie and feisty as hell, never letting anyone in to see her breakdown besides her own cowboy, Merek.
The truck comes to a halt in front of the bar, and it dawns on me that I’m traveling with two pregnant women who will not enjoy themselves. When I glance over to Ella her discomfort is clearly written all over her face.
“Let’s just go home. We can do shots at your place, Merek.”
He turns around and grins at me, and even though it should be a happy emotion, he still scares the ever-loving piss out of me. “Good idea, Squirt.”
I hate it when he calls me that, and the worst part is that it has stuck as my permanent nickname on Silver Star with Granddad, the only person able to call me it without the consequence of a dirty glare.
Marvel tries to sneak in the nickname every once in a while but has been threatened with no sex for a week, which holds no validity because we both know I’d last about two hours.
The truck lurches forward when Merek drives through the biggest pothole in Texas. All three silhouettes bounce up a bit in the front seat. I turn to Ella, who remains planted with her plump belly out in front of her right when the top of my head slams into the top of the cab.
“Holy shit,” Merek and I yell in unison. My holy shit was from the piercing pain shooting in my head, and I’m sure his was from being impressed with what he just did.
“Hang on, Squirt, and spur ’em.” Merek turns and grins at me as I still bounce on his brother’s lap in the back seat. Marvel’s groans also mingle in the cab with the rest of the chaos. It takes me a moment or two to understand what exactly he means by spur ’em.
“Screw that, I ride Marvel like Sea Biscuit.” I begin bouncing up and down on his lap theatrically with whoops and hollers as I pretend to whip his sides and kick him into a faster speed.
And the truck erupts in laughter.
“Taught her well.” Challis smiles back at me. It warms my heart to see her smiling and happy again.
“Oh, my God. I’m going to piss myself. Enough,” Ella gets out between the tears of joy rolling down her face.
Marvel’s vibrations of laughter are evident below me, and when I look back I see him with both hands cupping his family jewels, surely protecting them from my mad riding skills.
I think everyone lets out a sigh of relief when the Silver Star logo shines up in the distance. As I look around at every single person in the truck, I realize they’re my family—the ones who love me and I love right back without reservation.
I lie back on Marvel trying to catch my breath and then whisper in his ear, “I just want to run away with you.”
He sends me a sideways glance with a quick peck to my cheek. “You’re not happy here?”
“That’s not what I mean.” I crane my neck to give him a quick kiss upon his cheek. “I always want to be with you.”
“Party at my pad,” Merek chirps out.
“You sound like a nineteen-year-old horny boy.”
Merek only shrugs back at Challis while he plucks one of her nipples.
“And you’re surprised with this?” Ella asks.
Maverik helps her from the truck and then announces he’s going to go check on lil’ Mav and Granddad.
“I’ll go with you and then be right back. I want to make sure he took all of his pills.”
24
Marvel
I can hardly stand it anymore. It seems her shifts grow longer and longer each day. I know they’re the same exact amount of minutes, but it doesn’t make the time go by any faster. We’ve all grown into the perfect rhythm going about our day and getting the job done. There’s been no more foul play on the ranch, and it seems Saint has faded once again into the night without a word.
Even the agents have backed off, or that’s how it seems and feels. Undercover agents are still scattered about the ranch, but there’s been no more meetings or pressure to be seen out in public from
them. It’s like even they’ve given up on catching the devil himself. I can’t say I blame them, because it’s like a game you’re destined to lose.
I watch my granddad take his time easing down in his recliner, his joints howling in protest. I’ve watched him steadily decline since I’ve been home. He no longer goes out and tries to feed his lot of cattle or even tend to his garden. Everyone can see it, but it’s like the elephant in the room no one addresses. Clover mother hens the hell out of him, and I know he loves it.
She’s always checking in on his medicine and liquid intake and practically force-feeds him when she’s around for dinner.
“Doing okay, Old Man?” I ask him as I sit across from him on his old brown couch. He flings his baby-blue recliner back and takes a moment finding a comfortable spot. His straw cowboy hat sits on the side table as it always has. It’s a childhood memory I’ll never forget, a picture branded into my mind. He always had it set upon his head or right next to him.
“I’ve got your old man.”
“Seriously.” I throw my head back on the couch, staring at the cottage cheese spackling on the ceiling.
“I’m old, Marvel.”
“Yeah.” I don’t want to think about his comment at all.
“Enjoy being young, son.”
“Yeah.”
“No need to be sad. The man upstairs has been generous letting me stay here this long, and I’m not saying I’m going anywhere for now.”
“Do you think it’s too soon to ask Clover to marry me?”
He sits up slightly in his chair, giving me his full attention. “Do you love her?”
I nod my head.
“Can you put up with her when she’s happy, pissed, and sad?”
I nod my head, replaying all the different times she’s been in those states, and it seems when she’s sad or pissed I crave her more, wanting to comfort her.
“Then ask her, son.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.” He nods his head. “I could’ve told you this long ago. She’s the one God sent for you.”
Chills skim over my arms as he speaks the words. He’s always told us boys growing up that God sent our grandmother to him. That he’d handpicked and molded her to be the perfect woman just for him. A woman who’d put up with his hot temper and love him like crazy. Doesn’t seem that long ago I was a small child on the porch listening to these tales, and now I’m here in the moment ready to live them.
“It’s happening. It’s fucking time,” Maverik screams as he enters the living room. He has his jeans on, missing a shirt, with his cowboy hat on crooked. Before Granddad or myself can ask a question he’s yelling again about the time.
“Maverik, slow down.”
“The babies are coming.” His knees wobble a bit.
“Get it together for shit sakes.” Granddad is up on his feet, placing his straw hat on his head and walking toward the door.
Maverik also goes for the door but stumbles. The crazy son of a bitch has his boots on the wrong feet. I only snicker but don’t dare tell him. I pull my phone from my pocket and let Clover know we are heading her way.
By the time I have everyone gathered in the truck, Ella is in full labor, screaming and punching the air with all her might. I don’t have time to look back at Maverik with the speed I’m driving, but I’m pretty sure he’s crying and rocking back and forth.
Granddad tries to talk to Ella, calming her and reminding her about breathing techniques. We left lil’ Mav with Challis and Merek, who are finishing up chores and then heading in. I’m not sure which is rattling my nerves more—Ella wailing with the threat of two babies shooting out or my nutcase brother in the back. My knuckles go white as I grip the steering wheel with all of my strength, trying to release some stress.
When I wheel into the emergency entrance at the hospital, I first spot Clover’s gorgeous hair swirling around in the air. She’s standing next to two other nurses and a wheelchair. I glance at the clock on the dashboard and see she’s been off shift for over an hour. How in the hell did that much time pass so fast?
Before I can get the truck into park, Clover throws open the door and the first thing I notice are her Wranglers and baseball t-shirt she’s wearing.
“Ella, you get to meet your sweet, sweet babies today,” Clover croons to her while helping her sit forward and rubbing large circles on her back. Ella cries out again, but it’s not as loud. And even though she’s off shift I watch my little gal go to work taking care of her family.
Speaking of family, I open the back door for Maverik, who still remains shirtless and a mess in the back seat. He’s resorted to rocking back and forth, avoiding eye contact. The man who’s ridden rank ass broncs, cut testicles out of animals, and has had bones broken is brought down to his knees by a woman. And of course it’s Ella. His kryptonite.
“Maverik.” He doesn’t look up. Granddad swats at a nurse on his side who’s trying to put him in a wheelchair. I tilt my hat back and scratch my head wondering how in the hell I ended up in this three-ring circus.
“You’re going to miss out. Let’s go.” I toss his hat to the side, determined that I’ll get his ass in that hospital room even if I have to dress his ass.
“What if she dies?”
“Uh?”
“I’ve laid awake for months watching her sleep, paralyzed with fear. She could die and I’d lose her forever.”
“She’s not going to die. Women give birth every day, just like cows.”
Comparing Ella to a cow wasn’t the brightest choice on my end. Maverik comes to life with a wild look in his eyes.
“Calm down and get your shirt on.” I hand him his shirt and watch him put it on. I keep my arms loose and ready to block a sucker punch he might throw my way, not putting anything past him. I’ve been around the man way too long and know to be cautious when he’s in a state like this.
Whether it be common sense that kicks in or sheer ass luck, Maverik throws on his shirt and lurches from the truck. He’s uneasy on his feet similar to a newborn calf, and I’m quite certain it’s from his boots. I shake my head at the big lug and follow him into the hospital.
He disappears behind a door where a couple of nurses point him to. Me, I stay on the outside, preferring to be a one-man army right now. Ella’s cries soon quiet down to a dull roar. I know from hearing the girls talk that she’s determined on pushing the babies out and not having to go under the knife.
I use my phone to distract me in hopes of time speeding up. I need to see my woman. I Google two words and squeeze my eyes shut tight as the search engine pulls up the results for wedding rings. Thousands of websites are located, and the search engine does a fabulous job of displaying the bright and dazzling rings. Cost is no option. I just don’t want to scare her away.
“Marvel.” I look up to Clover rushing out of the room leaving the commotion behind her. She blows her bangs out of her eyes as she races into my arms.
“Everything okay?” I mumble into her neck. Being selfish, I kiss and lick a few more times than appropriate for a hospital hallway.
“She’s doing great. Baby one is almost out.”
“So the natural thing is going to work?” I ask, followed with, “How’s Maverik doing?”
“He’s passed out once already. Granddad kicked him in the ribs to wake him.” She clutches my cheeks in her small hands. “But I want to tell you something.”
“Clover.” A nurse peeks her head out the door. “Ella’s calling for you.”
“I’ll be right there,” Clover responds and then focuses back on me.
Instead of talking she brushes her lips across mine while darting her tongue out, leaving her sweet scent behind. It takes all of me to allow her to lead this kiss. If I start now I won’t be able to stop. As she playfully darts her tongue in my mouth, taking swipes of what she wants, I can’t help but remember our first kiss. She was reserved, scared, and nervous.
“I have to go, but I want to tell you…”
&nb
sp; Using my hand I guide the back of her head until her lips accompany mine once again. We indulge in each other for a few more moments.
“Listen to me.” This time Clover backs away, straightening the hem of her white shirt and clutching to it. Her white knuckles tell me she’s ready for a lot more than just kissing.
“What’s up, Squirt?”
She sends me a death glare, but I’m a smart man and know she has no time to cut my balls off or send any sex threats my way.
She lunges forward again, clutching my face until we are nose to nose. “I want all of that with you, Marvel. I want to be your wife and have your babies and even wash your dirty socks. I love you.”
“Caught up in the moment?”
“No, tonight was my last night here. I put in my notice a few weeks back. I’m ready to go home with you forever.” She pauses. “After the babies are born.”
“I do.” I smile back at her before she runs off.
I find a cozy seat on a couch in a well-lit waiting room and take my ring shopping a bit more serious. Our story isn’t typical by any means, but I don’t see why I should waste any more time when I’ve finally found the one woman who makes me a better man. All of the rings on the screen are just boring—dazzling—but way too common. My Clover deserves better than this. I want a ring with a rich story and cemented in strong gold.
I do something I thought I’d never do again. I dial up my mother and wait for her to answer. I’m not surprised when she doesn’t answer, so I send her a quick text letting her know what I want from her.
“Are the babies here?” I look up to lil’ Mav who’s breathless with Merek and Challis on his heels.
“Naw, buddy.” I shake my head. “I think we will be here awhile.”
No sooner than I finish my words, Clover rounds the corner breathless with a smile covering her face.
“Baby number one is here. It’s a girl.”
I can tell there’s something else she’s wanting to say, and it’s not good. I grew accustomed to her nurse face she plastered on when delivering bad news. I grab lil’ Mav’s hand and instantly want to run to my brother. At least Granddad is in there with him to get him through whatever is going on.
