Consolation Prize (Forbidden Men Book 9)

by Linda Kage

  “Yes,” she hissed, reaching out to grab my hand in order to get my attention. “I knew it’d be a bad idea to come here. I’ve never seen any black people in this neighborhood when I’ve driven by before. I don’t belong here. Dammit, Colton, please stop looking at them.”

  I turned back to her, not letting go of her fingers when she tried to pull away. “Okay, first of all, that’s just bullshit. You belong everywhere, baby doll. And secondly, are you sure it’s a race thing? Maybe they’re just jealous because you’re so beautiful.”

  With a roll of her eyes, she sighed. “Yeah, I don’t think that’s the problem.”

  “No, seriously,” I urged. “I know you go to great lengths to make sure everything on you is perfectly in place and flawless every day. To you, nothing would be worse than being criticized for your appearance. But I think all that perfection actually brings you more judgment.”

  She pulled back, lifting her eyebrows. “Excuse me?”

  “You’re almost inhuman because of how gorgeous you are,” I explained. “That’ll make all the mortal, average women out there jealous and more critical. They’ll watch you closer, look for any small, insignificant thing wrong with you to prove you’re not so perfect after all just to make themselves feel better.”

  “Is that how you think I feel?” she demanded. “That how a person looks is what’s most important to me?”

  “No…” I said slowly, knowing I’d just put myself on some slippery ground here, but I couldn’t seem to shut myself up. “I don’t think you judge other people for how they look. And I don’t think you’re trying to make yourself out to look better than anyone else either. You’re not that arrogant. You’re…fuck, what’s the word.” I snapped my fingers when it came to me. “You’re defensive. I think your motto is that the best defense is a good offense.”

  She shook her head slowly. “I’m not following.”

  “You don’t judge, but you feel as if you’re always being judged, so you go on the offensive before anyone can attack you. Every time you dress, you make a statement. You’re trying to prove to the world that you are not lower than anyone else. You’re not going to go down without a fight.” I shrugged. “Which I find really admirable and awesome, though sometimes it works against you.”

  “How does that work against me?” She leaned toward me, seeming intrigued, but not pissed, which was a huge relief to me, since pissing her off was the very last thing I wanted to do.

  “To stupid, simple-minded people just glancing by, all that pride in yourself sometimes makes you appear…” I winced, knowing the next word I said wouldn’t be pretty.

  She sent me a dry glance. “Just say it.”

  So I blurted, “Stuck-up.”

  Her eyebrows lifted. “Oh really? Stuck-up, huh?” She shook her head, grinning as if amused. “But you say you know better than that, huh?”

  “Of course, I know better.” I winked and whispered, “I’ve seen your underwear, remember?”

  She threw her head back and laughed. “My underwear? How the hell does my underwear have anything to do with anything?”

  “They’re my favorite thing you wear,” I swore solemnly.

  Shaking her head, she continued to chuckle. “How? They’re boring as hell.”

  “No,” I insisted. “They’re honest as hell. They’re one of the only things you put on your body that no one else sees. So they tell me exactly how you’d dress if it didn’t matter to you what anyone thought about you. They tell me you value comfort and practicality while you also like flashy colors over dull boring ones. And you keep all this tucked privately away where very few privileged people get a glimpse of them.”

  Her lips parted as she studied my face. After a second of just soaking in my words, she murmured, “It’s scary how fucking perceptive you are.”

  With a chuckle, I reached out to trace my finger over her cheekbone. “And yet I think you like it.”

  “Yeah, well…” She grinned and rolled her eyes, appearing rueful. “Except for the fact that now I sound boring, since I represent my plain, practical underwear, yeah, your talent of reading me’s not so bad.”

  “Practical but colorful,” I reminded her as I leaned across the table toward her. “Truth be told, I like it. I like you just the way you are.”

  When I pressed my mouth to hers, she pressed back, humming in her throat and coasting her fingers over my hair. “I like you too,” she admitted.

  “Good.” I kissed her again.

  Not far away, the sound of laughter made me pull back and glance over at the girls who’d been bothering her before. They were watching us openly and whispering back and forth.

  Obviously, our kiss had sent them over the edge.

  I scowled. “Huh. Maybe the interracial thing does bother them.” I rolled out my middle finger and flipped the girls off.

  “Colton!” Julianna grabbed my finger and covered it with her hand, while the other table gasped and quickly looked away.

  “What?” I shook my head, confused. I’d gotten them to mind their own damn business, hadn’t I?

  Juli gritted her teeth. “You’re the one who told me to forget what other people thought of us.”

  “They were upsetting you,” I argued moodily. That pissed me off.

  She sighed. “Well, two wrongs do not make a right.”

  “Yeah, but are we absolutely certain my flipping them off was really wrong?” I asked. “I mean, I was just calling them out on their assholery. You do that to me all the time.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “I call you out because I know you’re better than that.”

  My chest swelled. “You do? Just how good do you think I am, baby doll?”

  Lifting her chin, she scowled. “Stop being arrogant.”

  I laughed just as our waiter came around to discreetly set our receipt on the table next to me. He didn’t ask if we needed anything else, but sent me a tight smile and said, “Have a good night,” before darting a glance toward Juli and taking off.

  I gazed after him, beginning to feel the same paranoia Julianna was; that people were judging us. Lifting my eyebrows her way, I said, “I guess that was our cue to leave.”

  “Message received.” She grabbed her purse, suddenly eager to go.

  I tossed down enough cash to cover the dinner and took her hand. As we walked out of the restaurant, I glanced around. A couple people watched us covertly, but most of them glanced past, thinking nothing of our relationship. It felt like I was conducting some kind of experiment; studying the social behaviors of the average Homo sapiens in their natural habitat. And I had to conclude, a majority of the population had evolved nicely, which was why the minority stood out so starkly, starkly enough to make Julianna feel uncomfortable.

  I kissed her temple, and she pressed tighter against my side, holding my arm.

  “I’m sorry,” I said as soon as we were on the sidewalk and starting back toward her building. “I didn’t understand how out of place this restaurant would make you feel.”

  She shook her head. “Don’t worry about it.”

  But I did anyway. “Did this bother you when you went on your date with Brandt?”

  Briefly burying her face in my shoulder and inhaling me as if she needed my scent to soothe herself, she finally looked up. “Strangely, no.”

  I frowned, tipping my face to the side as I studied her. “Why not? He’s just as white as I am.”

  She shrugged, not meeting my gaze. “I don’t know.”

  Unease pierced my stomach with a gnawing burn I didn’t like. “So…you just liked him so much you didn’t care what people thought?” Which meant, she didn’t like me that much.

  But she looked up at me and gripped my arm, saying, “No. I think it was just the opposite actually. When he picked me up that night, it just…it felt more like two coworkers hanging out than an actual date. Friendly but not that personal. I knew we wouldn’t touch or hold hands or, you know, any of that, so I guess I just assumed other people woul
d see coworkers together when they saw us. In fact, I never worried about the interracial aspect with him at all, and I think that was because somewhere in me I always knew it wouldn’t go there.”

  And just like that, the burn in my gut dissipated. “Then you think it will go there with me?” I had to ask, and my heart started to pound hard, anxious for her answer yet scared what she’d say.

  “We do sleep together,” she said, but that was a fucking cop-out answer if I ever heard one.

  She wouldn’t look at me either, so I pressed. “Come on, baby doll, you know what I’m really asking. Where do you think this is going with us?”

  Her eyes looked so big and brown when she looked up, I could see the same worry and anxiety in my gut stirring around on her face.

  “Where do you think it’s going?” she countered.

  I grinned and shook my head. “I asked first.”

  “Then you should answer first,” she smarted back.

  I threw back my head and laughed. One thing was certain; I loved verbally sparring with her more than anyone else on the planet.

  But the fucking hell I was going to answer first.

  As we neared a pub with muffled music pouring from the building and floodlights shining down on a couple of outdoor tables, a rowdy group of guys noticed our approach.

  One stumbling drunk tripped from his tall-seated chair and leered. “Mudsharking it, huh?” He sent me a sloppy sneer. “You must like it dirty.”

  I jerked to a stop and swerved my attention to him. “What did you just say?” My tone was not polite and in no way invited him to continue with that line of disgust.

  But the idiot kept grinning and jerked his elbow at me as if we were buddies. He turned his face enough for the light to brighten a teardrop tattoo at the corner of his eye. I stared at it, trying to remember if those things meant you’d killed someone and gone to jail for it or if you’d just been close to someone who’d died.

  “Seriously,” Teardrop slurred. “Do her tits taste like chocolate?”

  “Hey, come on, man,” one of his friends encouraged, taking his arm and trying to pull him back. To us, he said, “He’s drunk.”

  “Huh,” I answered dryly. “I’ve gotten drunk a lot without fucking insulting people.”

  “Colton, let’s go,” Julianna spoke quietly into my ear as she tugged me away.

  I was about to follow her lead when the dumb drunk broke away from his restraining friend and made a beeline for her.

  “I wanna taste her chocolate titties.”

  When Teardrop reached out as if to grope her chest, Julianna screeched and hopped away from him.

  “Hey!’ I shoved his arm down. “Fucker, keep your hands to yourself.”

  The drunk glared at me. “Why don’t you keep your hands to your own kind? You’re muddying up the water, asshole.”

  And then he had the foolishness to swing at me.

  Me!

  I know, what a dipshit.

  From that point forward, it was on.

  Julianna pressed a cold pack to my eye. I hissed out a breath and tipped my face away because it was freezing as fuck. But she scowled at me, tsked, and pressed it more firmly to my rapidly bruising skin.

  “Stop being such a pansy.”

  “Pansy?” I scowled at her out of my one good eye. Leaning against the trunk of a patrol car as we waited for an officer to give our statement to because I’d just gotten into my first fistfight, I thought I’d been coming across as pretty badass myself. And might I add, the other dude was currently being carted into the back of an ambulance. But apparently, all it took was one really fucking cold piece of plastic to the face to yank me down to pansy status.

  Damn.

  “So what happened here tonight?” one of the police officers asked as he approached, flipping open a little notebook.

  I snorted and lifted my hand toward Teardrop, who was resisting other officers and even EMT as they attempted to get him inside the ambulance. I think he was still too drunk to realize he’d broken his arm when we’d fallen to the ground.

  “That fucker started it. We…” I paused to motion between Julianna and myself, “were walking down the street minding our own damn business, when he left his table and stumbled toward us, calling me a freaking mudshark.”

  The cop stopped taking notes and glanced up, blinking in confusion. “A mudshark? Isn’t that supposed to be a white woman with a black guy?”

  “I know!” I lifted a hand to compliment him. “Thank you! That’s what I thought. The stupid shithead couldn’t even criticize us right. I mean, really? What a dumbass.” Pausing in sudden thought, I glanced toward Julianna. “What is it called when a white guy hooks up with a black girl?”

  She blinked, letting me know she couldn’t believe I was even asking her that. But then she shook her head. “I have no idea.”

  Oh well. It didn’t matter. I waved a hand and turned back to the cop. “Anyway, then that fucker reached for her breasts, saying he wanted to taste them, and—”

  “He, wait. He reached for your—” When the officer spun toward Julianna, his gaze immediately dipped to her chest, since they were the topic of conversation, and he flushed bright red because she did happen to have some lovely cleavage going on under her ESU shirt. “Uh…” After blinking, he lifted his gaze. “Did he assault you, ma’am?”

  “No.” Juli shook her head immediately. “He—”

  “As if I’d let that piece of shit touch her,” I boomed, scowling at the officer for even suggesting such a thing. “I shoved his arm away before he could, and then it was on. He swung at me. I ducked. He swung again. I didn’t duck so well. I shoved him by the chest backward away from us. He swung again. I didn’t get to duck at all. Then Julianna tried to pull his arm away, so he whirled on her like he was going to hit her. But I jumped on his back, and that’s when we went to the ground. He landed first, which is probably why his arm is hanging all wrong like it is. And after that, it was just kind of a free-for-all. We both went after each other, punching and cursing.”

  I shrugged, wondering if I should’ve mentioned every detail about what had just gone down, but whatever. I wasn’t going to lie. If it landed me in jail…fuck it. I would’ve done everything the same exact way if I’d had a second chance.

  Then again, jail would mean I’d have to call Noel. And having Noel learn about this… Fuck.

  That wouldn’t be so cool.

  Since the cop was still busy scribbling down my account, I leaned in toward Julianna. “Do you think they’re going to call Noel?”

  “I doubt it,” she whispered back. “You’re eighteen, remember?”

  “Oh, right.” I blew out a relieved breath. “Sweet.”

  Her eyes widened as she glanced at me. “How is that sweet? Being an adult means you could very likely go to jail right now.”

  I still wasn’t too concerned about that. I mean, really, how long could a person spend behind bars for a freaking fistfight? Brandt had gotten into fights all the time back in his day, and he’d never gone to jail.

  Okay, maybe I was being a bit delusional there. Oh well. Jail would be an experience.

  “So…he swung first?” the officer asked, glancing up as he came to the end of his notetaking.

  I nodded. “Yeah.”

  “And you acted in self-defense the entire time?”

  When I nodded, he turned his attention to Julianna. “And you corroborate his story, ma’am? Anything to add or change?”

  “Yes.” She nodded immediately. “I mean, no, I don’t have anything to add or change. He said it all exactly how it happened.” With a hard glance to me, she muttered, “Probably even shared more details than I would’ve. So, yes, I support his story all the way.”

  “Okay then, folks.” He nodded and flipped his notebook closed. “Thank you for your time. I’m going to go check to make sure none of the other officers have any more questions and then we’ll let you be on your way, all right?”

  Both Julia
nna and I blinked at him in surprise. I don’t think either of us expected him to let me go just like that.

  A second later, I gushed out a grateful nod. “Yeah, okay. Thanks, man.”

  He nodded and turned away. Julianna let out a squeak of excitement before squeezing her arm around mine and kissing my shoulder. “Oh, thank God. I was so sure you were going to get arrested.”

  I kissed her temple. “Have a little more faith in me than that, baby doll. I can talk my way out of anything.” Then with a wink, I sent her a salacious once-over. “Or into anything.”

  JULIANNA’S CHAPTER | 26

  “I think I’m done with this pansy-maker,” Colton announced, pulling the ice pack away from his eye. The paramedics had given it to us when they’d first arrived and checked him out. It was beginning to drip with condensation as he held it out away from him.

  “I’ll go return it to them,” I offered, taking it from his hand.

  “Thanks, baby doll.” He kissed me in gratitude.

  Red and blue lights flashed over me as I approached the ambulance where they’d just restrained the drunk who’d fought with Colton enough to successfully get him inside. I could see two paramedics in the vehicle with him as they wrapped his arm with a temporary sling, while a third stood just outside the opened doors, talking to a pair of cops.

  One of the officers noticed me and nodded respectfully. “We’ll take him to jail once they get him checked out at the hospital, okay, ma’am?”

  I smiled gratefully and turned my attention to the EMT. “He says he doesn’t need this anymore, thanks.”

  The guy took back the cold pack and glanced at the two departing officers before returning his attention to me. “They said all this was over a racial thing.”

  I nodded and sighed, rubbing a spot on the center of my forehead where a headache was starting. “Yeah. It was.”

  He shifted confidentially closer. Since he was the only other black person on the scene, I thought he was going to offer up some words of encouragement. But he said, “You know this wouldn’t have happened if you’d just stayed with your own kind, right?”