by Willow, Jo
Ayla poured her coffee and placed it next to my father’s, as she refilled his and my cup as well. She placed six more rolls on a plate and put them in front of us. My father pulled my mother to his side and made her sit down, her eyes were still fastened on Ayla as she took the eggs, bacon and milk from the fridge.
My dad kissed my mom’s cheek and I thought we were progressing along in cinnamon roll heaven. Like that would ever happen on this particular Christmas morning.
“Bree, our son is in love.”
Ayla continued beating eggs in a bowl, but I knew it threw her. I saw the tremble in her hands, even if my folks had failed to notice. I also felt my mother’s excitement.
“Does she love him back?”
All eyes shifted to Ayla, who looked at me as if I could save her. As if anyone could save her. What did I do? Why I put my foot in it. Again.
“Ayla, do you remember when I tried to have that conversation with you in the car? Something about rules?”
She narrowed her eyes at me and then grew six inches as she inserted the steel rod into her backbone. Shit. Double and triple shit. I became very interested in my cinnamon roll, her voice sealing my fate.
“Yes Bree. I do.”
My mother actually squealed. Of course my father fed into it.
“They’re picking out a ring next week.”
All eyes went to me as I began banging my head against the counter. My mother began patting me on the back as if I were having a seizure and needed comforting.
“Was it supposed to be a surprise Pierce? We’ll keep it between the four of us. No one else has to know until you’re ready to announce it. When’s the wedding?”
Her bright and shining eyes went to Ayla.
“Please tell me you’re not one for long engagements Ayla. Spring is just around the corner and the wildflowers are beautiful here in the Spring. Of course it’s your wedding and you don’t have to have it here... we’ll understand...”
The disappointment of her potentially rejected offer was evident in her voice and Ayla, being Ayla, would walk on broken glass barefooted before she’d disappoint my mother. One more reason to love her and yet, I wanted to wring her neck.
Ayla rounded the bar and took my mother into her arms, hugging her fiercely.
“Of course the wedding will be here. Where else would it be? Deacon and Dorothy’s was so beautiful and the only family I have is Austin and Chase. I’m sure it will be a perfect setting.”
I looked at her with a neutral expression. I had to. If I’d given in to the horror I was feeling, I’d have had to find ground soft enough to bury her in and it was winter in Connecticut.
My mother was back to squealing and my father stood to resume thumping me on the back while I continued to attempt to knock myself unconscious on the countertop. This had to be a dream. I’d wake up like that guy in that movie and start this day all over again. How did I go from a reckless, yet sincere confession of love, to a Spring wedding? I didn’t remember the proposal. In my defense, I was on a caffeine and chocolate buzz so I guess it could have slipped out. But I think I would have remembered proposing to someone. It’s one of those moments a man isn’t likely to forget.
I stopped my self abuse long enough to glance at Ayla who was still firmly in my mother’s embrace. She looked just as helpless as I felt. I understood completely. She got sucked in and dragged me with her. How could we disappoint them now?
My mind concocted an ingenious plot. A ring was nothing. I’d buy the ring. We’d stay engaged for awhile and then call it off. People break engagements all the time, right? I mean, just because you’re engaged, it doesn’t mean you’re actually getting married...right?
I looked at Ayla again and her eyes were closed. It gave me time to study her closely. Every indication of stress had evaporated. My girl was at peace. She wanted this. She might not admit it, but my runaway bride wasn’t running from this one. She loved me and she wanted this. This fairy tale, this family, this wedding. Admitting that I loved her was one thing, but a wedding? I needed to think about this and tread carefully while I did. I had just turned twenty-six. Was I too young? I didn’t know. I didn’t know anything at the moment and it rattled me. All control had been wrenched from my life and I was beginning to panic.
When I looked at Ayla again, she was watching me. She saw it and it broke her. I watched it happen. And that, my friends, broke me.
“Ayla”, I whispered, and she shook her head “No”. I didn’t know if it meant not now, or not ever, but I’d hurt her worse than I’d ever hurt her before.
This would never do. I was not going back to hell and that’s what it would be if she shut me out again. I knew it. I felt it in my bones and I made a conscious decision.
My mother still had her when Deacon, Dorothy and Anton came sauntering in. Anton’s nose went into the air and he grinned.
“Do I smell cinnamon rolls?”
Dorothy and Deacon zeroed in on Ayla and my mother hugging. Deacon cocked his head and I saw my chance. Stupid or not, I was taking it. He looked at my dad and then his eyes went to me.
“What’s going on? What did we miss?”
I cleared my throat and stood. Then I took Ayla away from my mother and wrapped my arms around her. She stiffened in my embrace, but I wasn’t letting her go. No way.
“Ayla and I are getting married in the Spring. I’m thinking early June.”
Her face shot up to mine in shock.
“Pierce, what are you doing?”
“You don’t like June?”
“June is fine. You know what I’m asking.”
Our voices were low and everyone else was hollering and hugging in their excitement. This might very well be our only opportunity to come to terms and I wasn’t wasting a moment of it.
“I love you. Do you love me?”
She slipped her arms around my waist.
“You know I do. More than anything.”
I exhaled and kissed the top of her head.
“Then I’m exerting that control you’ve given me. We’re getting married in June. Here. On the farm. Okay?”
She buried her face against my chest and I thought I felt tears. Women are strange, so I had to ask something I never thought I’d ever ask.
“Are those happy tears?”
She nodded quickly and I kissed her forehead.
“Good. Strangely enough, I’m happy too.”
She started laughing as Anton yanked her away from me. He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off the ground in a hug. I’d never seen him this happy before.
“I’m so happy Ayla! These are the best fucking cinnamon rolls I’ve ever had!”
She threw her head back and I saw that look again. The no-stress-I’m-deliriously-happy look. I didn’t know if it was from my unconventional proposal (this one I’d remember for sure), or from Anton’s chipmunk cheeked announcement (he’d stuffed two cinnamon rolls in and was reaching for a third). It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter in the least. My woman was happy, she loved me, and I was now the number one son in my parents eyes. That would probably hold until Deke and Dor’s baby was born. My life was complete.
Chapter Six
The stand-off between Anton and Melody continued and I have to say I was ready to leave when the time came. Melody had dropped bombshells on all of us with the gifts she gave. Anton looked like an ungrateful asshole and I was almost taking her side until I opened my own gift. I looked at her and she had that shit eating grin on her face, the one that dared me to show it to everyone. Instead, I ran upstairs and buried it in my suitcase, causing a never ending round of questions for the next few days. My lips were sealed. Thankfully, so were hers.
She’d bought me a two week course on how to be a Dom. If I chose to attend, it would be held at a local upscale sex club. I’d been to it a time or two, but I never felt like I fit in so I never returned. The atmosphere was hardcore domination and submission, complete with leather and collars. Private rooms hid what I p
resumed was the scary activity, but the illusion permeated the atmosphere. I couldn’t help but wonder what kind of classes would be taught.
I did not look good in leather. I had the black hair and blue eyes, I even had the build thanks to my four days a week in the gym and my six mile a day run. I was too urbane for leather. I’ll admit that. Leather gripped and chafed and I always looked like I had an itch I couldn’t reach. I’ll admit that. I was more the shirtless with tight jeans type of Dom. Is that a type? I didn’t know, but that’s what I wore when the mood struck me.
So what would I wear to, “class”? Perhaps I wouldn’t go. After all, did I really need classes? I didn’t think so. I had this down. I’d been doing it for years. What could they teach me that I hadn’t thought of or tried?
We were in the car on the way home when Ayla broke my thoughts.
“What did Melody give you for Christmas?”
It was like a needle going across a record album. My attention was back on Ayla and the road.
“Excuse me?”
“The gift. That you ran upstairs and hid. What was it?”
The last two weeks had been emotional ones for us. So many changes happened so quickly, we hadn’t had time to decompress. Should I answer her question honestly? Dishonesty wasn’t something I was practiced at and technically, we were engaged (I was still reeling from that one). I glanced at her and spilled the beans.
She listened closely, never interrupting. I admitted that I’d been to that club and a few others besides and only found one to my liking. That one I’d frequented a handful of times.
She placed her hand on my thigh and squeezed. Then she resumed watching the road, saying nothing.
“Well? What do you think?”
“I think you’ve got three months to think about it. Personally? I think that if you consider yourself a Dom, then you should go. See what other Doms are doing and see what they consider mainstream in their world.”
“You still don’t think I’m a Dom do you?”
She looked at me and the sincerity was plain.
“Pierce, honey, it doesn’t matter what I think. I’m pretty sure that my experience was on the fringes of mainstream, but how would I know? This would give us both a knowledge base, that’s for sure.”
There was something I’d been dying to ask her and here was my chance.
“What if I decided I liked it? Would you be interested?”
She took her time answering the question. I’d heard the horror story, I knew what she’d lived through. I’d never hurt her and I think she knew that. This was more a question of trust.
“With you? Everything about you interests me. If this was a part of our private life, then maybe. If this encompassed our entire private life? I don’t know.”
It laid there between us and we let it. I could not have asked for a more honest answer and any reply I could give would be moot until I attended the classes. Domination was the ultimate act of control. The things that may or may not go along with it? That was the black hole I wasn’t sure I was confident enough to wander into.
Flash forward to New Year’s Eve. Let me lay the groundwork. Anton and Melody were definitely on the “outs”. The family thought we were engaged and we’d come to terms with that. It felt good actually. Were we sleeping together again? Absolutely. Had we had sex yet? Nada. If my brothers knew that, they’d assume I was gay and Ayla was my beard.
Ayla was the only woman I wanted, and I wanted her constantly. All she had to do was look my way and I needed to adjust myself. I’d gotten good at doing it covertly. If I hadn’t started taking matters into my own hands (so to speak) in the shower every morning, I’d have had her six ways from Sunday by now. So why the wait? She’s not ready. She hasn’t come out and said it, but I can feel it. We’ve done everything BUT that, and it helps like you wouldn’t believe. But making love isn’t on the table (or anywhere else) as of yet. That’s not to say I’m not working on it, I am.
Part of that plan involves a ring. It’s been a week and I’ve been busy. So has Ayla. She and Sean have returned to work and they’re keeping Melody busy. Tonight is New Year’s Eve though and things are going to happen. I can feel it.
Everyone minus Melody, headed for Austin’s bar. He informed us that he’d called and offered to pick her up himself, but she wasn’t feeling up to it. Two things came to mind. First, she probably had it right. The bar was busy and noisy and the band hadn’t even started yet. Austin knew how to throw a New Year’s Eve party, that was evident. Second, Anton was here with his Miss Right Now and she was already half drunk. She hung all over him like a cheap shirt and he allowed it. I don’t know who I thought less of, her or him. One look at Deacon told me his thoughts were along the same line.
I kept Ayla close and she appreciated it. There were several eager males that were already scoping her out, making us both uncomfortable. Austin seated us at a reserved table near the back and out of the line of steadily meandering traffic. The noise wasn’t quite as bad and the service was good. We all began to relax.
Deacon and Dorothy stuck with fizzy water and various juices, they’d declared themselves the designated drivers when we came in. That freed up the rest of us. Ayla and I stuck with champagne because neither of us were much for drinking. Anton started with scotch while his date appeared to be drinking any and everything. All she needed was a funnel and her disguise as a frat house whore would have been complete.
Everyone was tolerating everyone else and lost in our own conversations until Miss Congeniality leaned over to speak to Dorothy. She didn’t seem to notice or care that she had to lean over Deacon to do it. I was on the other side of Dorothy so all three of us heard exactly what she said.
“You’re pregnant, right?”
Dorothy plastered a tolerant grin on her face.
“That’s right. Five months now. Our daughter will be born in May.”
Deacon kissed her cheek and rested his hand on his baby. I looked at Ayla, I couldn’t help it. She was watching her brother and it gave me a chance to study her. I could picture her pregnant with our child. It was easier than I ever thought possible. Somehow being with Ayla made me see all kinds of possibilities I’d never considered or wanted to consider before. She’d become the piece of the puzzle I’d been missing. Maybe it was the champagne talking, but I didn’t feel drunk. I felt anchored and happily so. I took her hand and she smiled before she turned to me. I was just about to tell her that I loved her when a drunk voice talked to Dorothy again.
“I gotta hand it to you. Smart move on your part. Trying to tie one of these three down seems like trying to tie down the Hindenburg with kite string, if you read the papers. Getting yourself knocked up? Smooth sister. I like your style.”
She raised her glass in a mock toast to Dorothy and Deacon’s hands clenched into fists. My eyes shot to Anton, wondering why he wasn’t interceding to save his date’s life. Anton was making eyes at a blonde at the bar who was returning his flirtatious advances. I could not believe it.
I kicked him under the table and he narrowed his eyes at me.
“Pierce, what the fuck is your problem man?”
“Your slut just insulted your sister-in-law while you’re lining up the other member of your threesome. You should put a leash on her Anton. She’s over the limit.”
I never spoke to him like that and I had never called any woman a slut that he was aware of. My words were meant to get his attention and they did. He stood and jerked her to her feet.
“Hey! You made me spill my drink baby. What’s going on?”
“You’re dancing with me. Now.”
He dragged her off and we all breathed deeply. I looked at Deacon.
“Are you alright?”
“I’m fine.”
He turned to Dorothy.
“Babe are you alright?”
“I’m ready to go. The baby’s laying on my bladder and I’m not comfortable in this booth.”
I looked at Ayla and she nodded her
ascent. We were all done for the night and with a little luck, we’d be home by midnight and out of traffic and drunk drivers.
We’d all taken our feet when the loudest crash I think I’ve ever heard echoed through the bar. We were four feet from the side entrance and glass flew everywhere. Then came flames. We looked at one another and the odor of gasoline permeated everything. We had to get out and we had to get out now. Everyone was racing toward the front and I could spot a bottleneck a mile off. I yelled at Deacon and he nodded. He took Dorothy’s hand and then reached for Ayla. She looked up at me and I yelled for her to go with Deke and I’d be right behind them. As drunk as Anton and his date were, I didn’t rely on them to get out safely.
Ayla reluctantly went with Deacon and I watched until they were out the door and clear of the mayhem. Then I turned around and was almost knocked off my feet by Anton. He had his date firmly by her upper arm and I motioned toward the side door. The smoke was too thick and the screams too loud. We had to move, time was running short. I took his hand and maneuvered from memory, the smoke completely engulfing us at this point. I was never more relieved than when I felt the door. I pressed the bar down and the side street came into view. We stumbled out followed by several others and wove our way through the crowd until we stood with Deacon, Dorothy, and Ayla.
Deacon was leading Dorothy to an ambulance against her will and Ayla threw herself into my arms in relief.
“My god Pierce I was so worried.”
I wrapped my arms around her shaking frame and rocked her back and forth.
“Baby, I’m fine. We’re all fine. I think we need to move across the street though. Is Dorothy okay?”
“She’s fine, just annoyed with Deacon.”
I smiled in relief. If she was aggravated with Deacon then she really was alright.
