Rock Chick Revolution

by Ashley, Kristen

  Then I opened them and turned my head to look at him.

  “That’s done, Ren. I don’t even think about it anymore.”

  “Promise?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Nothing buried that will come out and bite either you or me?”

  I bought this after burying what was between us for a year.

  So I sought to pay up, and fast.

  I turned a little in his arms and put my hand to his jaw. “That’s done. Now it’s just you and me. And honestly, cross my heart, I haven’t thought of it once since we had it out in a moderately priced motel in a small Colorado mountain town.”

  I heard a deep, short chuckle before, “A moderately priced motel in a small Colorado mountain town?”

  “AKA, my favorite place on earth.”

  His body went still.

  Then his mouth growled, “Ally.”

  Right after, that mouth was on mine, I was on my back and Ren was on me.

  I guessed we weren’t settling in to sleep.

  Righteous.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Love Was in the Air

  I sat on Ren’s kitchen counter, Ren standing between my legs, our happy places touching, my phone ringing in my ear, my eyes on my man.

  Mom answered, “Hello?”

  “Hey Mom. You got two seconds?” I asked.

  “Yes, he’s invited to dinner tomorrow, Ally.”

  I bit my lip and gave big eyes to Ren.

  Her knowing Ren and I were back together wasn’t a surprise. I was thirty-two, but she’d been in my business since I was born, and as far as she could be, never got out. Even so, it wasn’t exactly a secret, what with Ren charging me at Fortnum’s and us being at the rehearsal dinner together. Her informants were in attendance at both of these events. And her informants were big on informing.

  I let my lip go and asked quietly, “You sure?”

  “You love him?” she asked back.

  “Yes,” I whispered.

  “Then your father and I best get to know him.”

  So totally told you my mom was the shit.

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  “See you in a few hours, honey.”

  She disconnected. I did too.

  I set my phone aside and addressed Ren.

  “You’re invited to dinner tomorrow.”

  He stared at me.

  Then he asked, “How did that happen in the two seconds you were talking to her?”

  “It’s Mom’s way.” I curled my arms around him and pressed closer from happy place to chest, and assured him, “It’s gonna be okay.”

  His arms tightened. “I know, baby.” He then gave me a touch on the lips before he said, “You gotta get goin’.”

  I did. I needed to be primped and trussed in preparation for two people I loved tying the knot.

  Therefore, I smiled.

  Ren smiled back at me.

  * * * * *

  “Oh God, honey.”

  “Hurry.”

  “God, Ren.”

  “Hurry, Ally.”

  We were in a cloakroom at Hotel Monaco where Luke and Ava were having their reception.

  I had my back to the wall, my arms and legs curled around my man, and Ren was exploring the functionality of the deep slit up the front of my killer aqua column bridesmaid dress with a chiffon overlay that exposed a pure Ava rock ‘n’ roll stretch of midriff.

  Ren and I were doing the business.

  In other words, love was in the air.

  Totally good luck that Tod had picked up and kept hold of all the bridesmaid dresses until the big day. If mine had been in my apartment, semi-tragedy.

  But my mind wasn’t on escaping a semi-tragedy.

  It was on something way better.

  “I’m… it’s… Ren,” I gasped, whimpered, then came.

  Glorious.

  “Fuckin’ fuck me,” Ren growled. He shoved his face in my neck, thrust deep and groaned.

  I held on tight as his shuddered though him and mine me.

  After it was over, I kept holding him until he kissed my neck, indication to let go.

  I did. He slid me up, sliding out of me. His mouth came to mine, his eyes glued to mine, as he put me to my feet. He held me against the wall and I felt him do up his trousers.

  Then he touched our lips together before crouching in front of me and ordering, “Foot, baby.”

  I lifted a silver strappy, stiletto-heel shod foot and he slid one side of my discarded thong over it. I lifted the other and he repeated, then slid my thong up my legs.

  This caused another shudder.

  He settled my panties on my hips and rearranged my skirt so it fell properly, but before he got to his feet in front of me, he kissed the inside of my right knee.

  And another shudder.

  Then he was on his feet and I was no longer leaning against the wall because I was in Ren’s arms.

  “You got sex hair, honey,” he told me, eyes moving around my head.

  “So?” I asked, and his gaze came to me.

  That got me a smile, which led to another touch on the lips. This one harder, it lasted longer and it included our lips opening and both of us adding tongue.

  Yummy.

  Ren ended the kiss, landed one on my jaw and grabbed my hand.

  He led me to the door, opened it and shoved me in front of him, still holding my hand as he pushed us out.

  And thus we ran headlong into Sadie and Hector.

  Sadie, in a baby blue dress the same style as mine, stared up at me.

  Her face got red.

  Hector muttered, “Fuck,” and pulled her back. He gave a chin jerk to Ren, and then sauntered away, clamping an arm around her waist and disappearing around an opening to the corridor.

  I looked up at Ren.

  Ren’s eyes were to where Sadie and Hector disappeared, but when he felt mine, they came down to me.

  When they did, I burst out laughing.

  Ren’s arm slid along my waist and he propelled me forward as he joined in my hilarity.

  Yep. Love was in the air.

  * * * * *

  After hitting the bathroom for a necessary errand due to Ren and my cloakroom activities, I entered the function room and scanned the crowd looking for Ren.

  My eyes stopped on Luke, who was standing with his mom and Ava’s mom.

  Ava’s mom was clearly babbling, and it was clear she’d been doing this for a while because Mrs. Stark was nodding but the smile was fixed on her face and it was obvious her mind was miles away. This was also clear because Luke looked like he wanted someone to shoot him. But still, he was standing there holding his mother’s hand, and I thought this, particularly from badass Luke, was all kinds of cool.

  I continued my scan and my eyes stopped again when I saw Tex and Duke standing close, Tex looking weird (and not just because he was wearing a suit instead of his uniform flannel shirt and jeans) and Duke smiling and clapping him on the shoulder.

  Tex had a personality set to crotchety and Duke worked with a bunch of crazy women and had for decades. Thus they did not get along in a normal way. They got along by bantering (sometimes heatedly), bonding when shit got crazy and they agreed that the women amongst them were loons, and the rest of the time ignoring their own craziness in order to focus on the crazy around them.

  This did not mean they weren’t tight. They’d known each other awhile and had both ridden the turbulent waves of the Rock Chick/Hot Bunch Courtships from the very beginning, and those kinds of rides formed unshakable bonds. Trust me.

  But they were men. They didn’t have heartfelt conversations or hug it out. I’d never seen one touch the other. I didn’t think I’d even seen them smile at each other.

  Now Duke was smiling big.

  However, Tex wasn’t.

  He just nodded, said something, turned jerkily away and his eyes caught on me.

  He then lumbered toward me.

  When he got close, I greeted, “Yo, Tex. What’s up?
”

  His eyes moved over my hair then back to me and he noted, “I think sex in a public place is illegal.”

  “That’s only a problem if you get caught,” I returned.

  “This, the Ally Nightingale Life Philosophy,” he muttered on a low boom.

  I grinned. “You bet your bippy.”

  He stared at me, and it was then I noticed he still looked weird.

  So I asked, “You okay?”

  “Need to talk to you,” he told me.

  Uh-oh.

  This could mean anything.

  “About what?” I asked cautiously.

  “What’re you doin’ on Wednesday?” he asked back.

  I was likely taking pole dancing classes from Daisy.

  I didn’t tell him this.

  “Nothing… yet,” I answered.

  He lifted his hand to his throat, where the tie that was there earlier was now gone and likely in some trash receptacle. His fingers encountered no tie so he lifted his hand to wrap it around the back of his neck and he rubbed.

  Oh man.

  This was not a good sign.

  “Tex—”

  “Indy’s standing up with me,” he cut me off to say bizarrely. “Trixie’s doin’ it for Nancy. We only need two witnesses, but I still want you and Duke standin’ beside me. Indy and Duke already agreed. I need you at the Justice of the Peace on Wednesday when I marry Nancy.”

  Ho.

  Lee.

  Crap!

  “What?” I whispered.

  “On Wednesday, me and Nancy’re gettin’ hitched,” he stated, and I felt my body lock and my eyes get hot in that way that this was the kind of stuff I knew would take a miracle to hold back the tears.

  Nancy was Jet’s mother. Nancy was the bomb. Nancy had also been Tex’s girlfriend for a good long while.

  But Tex and a Justice of the Peace?

  I started teetering and Tex started talking.

  Fast.

  “It’s no big deal. We just do our thing, get the fuck outta there, and Blanca’s givin’ us a little shindig in her backyard. Just family. You don’t even have to wear a dress. You can wear jeans.”

  “I… you… Nancy…” I stammered, stopped and felt the wet hit my eyes. “Tex,” I whispered.

  He stared at me, looking agitated, then more agitated then finally he declared, “The cats like her.”

  I burst out laughing.

  Still doing it, I threw myself at him and wrapped his massive bulk in my arms (as best I could, my arms didn’t go around).

  His arms closed around me and they did this tight.

  Tex and I had also never hugged it out.

  Now that we were doing that, it felt amazing.

  My body bucked as the emotion shoved itself up my throat and I barely managed to force it back down.

  I felt his bulk bow as he put his lips to my ear and that was when Tex—yes, Tex—whispered, “I take it you’ll be there.”

  I turned my head to get to his ear and my voice was croaky when I whispered back, “With bells on.”

  “Thank you, darlin’.” He kept whispering.

  My body bucked again and the swallow was audible, and loud, when I beat back the sob.

  “What’s goin’ on?”

  That was Ren.

  I twisted my neck to look at Ren as Tex’s hold loosened and one of his massive mitts hit the small of my back in order to direct me into Ren’s arms.

  When Ren had me, Tex answered, “Nuthin’. Gotta go.”

  But he didn’t go.

  He caught my eyes and held them before he lifted a beefy hand and rested it on the top of my head.

  Warmth flowed through me.

  Only then did he take off.

  Quickly.

  “Baby?” Ren called, his hand coming to my jaw and tilting it up.

  “We have plans Wednesday,” I declared. “I’m standing up with Tex while he marries Nancy, and then we’re going to Blanca’s for an after party.”

  Ren did a slow blink at me before his head turned and he looked in the direction where Tex took off. Then he looked back at me.

  “I’m gettin’ a feeling that, you in my life and not just my bed, my social calendar is gonna be busy,” he noted.

  “You might want to buy a whole new calendar with lots of blank space,” I suggested and got a lip quirk and arm squeeze. Then I shared a colossal understatement. “The Rock Chicks like to party.”

  “Right,” he mumbled, lips still quirking.

  “So,” I started, “Would you like me to quit avoiding them and take you to my parents to introduce you?”

  His brows shot up and he asked disbelievingly, “You doin’ that shit with sex hair?”

  He had a point.

  “Uh…” I mumbled, but did it beginning to laugh.

  “No,” he answered and dipped his face to me. “Tame that mane, honey, and the answer changes to yes.”

  Time for another trip to the bathroom.

  I was about to tell Ren where I was going when Roxie, in a dress like mine but in teal, rushed up and stopped on a wobble.

  “Did Uncle Tex ask you?” she queried excitedly.

  “Yep,” I answered as Ren let me go, but tucked me into his side with his arm around me.

  “Did you say yes?” she asked.

  “Yep,” I answered.

  “Did you have sex in the cloakroom?” she went on.

  “Yep,” I answered, that word shaking with humor, and my body shook with it when I heard and felt Ren sigh.

  She looked over her shoulder in the direction of where Hank was standing and talking to Tod and Stevie.

  And she did this muttering, “That’s out.”

  “Please, do not tell me where you and Hank have sex during this reception,” I begged.

  She looked back at me. “You’re one of my closest friends. Friends talk sex. Everyone knows that.”

  “And he’s my brother,” I reminded her.

  “It’s not like you don’t know we do the deed,” Roxie returned.

  “I do know that,” I retorted. “I just don’t want details. I’ve already had so many details, it’s a wonder I’m not in therapy.”

  “Location isn’t a detail,” she shot back.

  God!

  “La, la, la, I’m not listening, la, la, la,” I chanted.

  “Oh God, Roxie’s talking about Hank and her doing the business.”

  This was said by Indy (in aqua, like me) who, when I turned my head, I saw was approaching with Lee.

  “Then we’re leaving,” Lee muttered.

  Indy giggled and pulled him to us, sharing, “Well, don’t use the handicapped bathroom upstairs.”

  “Fuck.” Lee kept muttering.

  I bit back laughter.

  Roxie didn’t.

  “Or the cloakroom.” Stella’s kickass husky voice came at us from the side, and I turned to see her (in teal) and Mace (like Lee and Hank, in a tux), joining us.

  “That’s two for the cloakroom,” Roxie stated.

  “Who else?” Stella asked.

  “Ren and me,” I told her.

  “Ah,” she mumbled.

  “Jesus,” Mace grunted.

  “What are you talking about?” Jet (in baby blue, though she didn’t have a chiffon-exposing midriff; she had a figure-skimming, kickass pregnant lady’s bridesmaid dress) with Eddie (in a tux) asked.

  “Rock Chick/Hot Bunch wedding assignations,” Indy answered.

  “Oh shit,” Eddie murmured.

  “Handicapped bathroom,” Jet shared.

  “Fuck me,” Eddie clipped at the same time Lee bit out, “Christ.”

  Jet turned to her husband. “What?”

  I didn’t bite back laughter then. I couldn’t. I just let it fly.

  “What’s funny?” Jules (in teal) asked, and we all looked to see her and Vance coming in around Indy and Lee.

  “Cloakroom or handicapped bathroom?” Roxie asked.

  Jules knew exactly what we were talking
about and answered instantly, “Cloakroom.”

  “Popular choice,” Stella put in.

  “In about fifteen minutes, we can get Sadie and Hector’s info. But my guess, handicapped bathroom since they ran into Ren and me on our way out of the cloakroom,” I told them.

  The women nodded knowingly.

  Eddie requested, “Can we stop talking about this?”

  “No,” Daisy (in baby blue) stated, dragging Marcus to our group and stopping. “Or at least not until you tell me what you’re talkin’ about.”

  “Cloakroom or handicapped bathroom?” Jet shared at the same time she asked.

  “Oh, sugar,” Daisy waved a hand with silver polish on her long nails tipped with aquamarine rhinestones in the shapes of hearts, “Me and Marcus got a room. All access all the time. Comprende?”

  I leaned up to Ren and whispered, “We’re doing that next time”

  “What?” he asked, looking down his nose at me. “Did you say something? My ears are bleeding.”

  At that, I burst out laughing.

  “What’s funny?” Shirleen queried, also in aqua (a Rock Chick wedding party stretched long, believe you me). “No, don’t tell me. I don’t give a shit. What I give a shit about is that I’m about to whale on those bitches Ava calls sisters so someone needs to calm me down. With brandy. Or bourbon. I don’t care which. I just spent five minutes with those two where they ripped every woman here’s outfit to shreds along with complainin’—at length—about not bein’ in the weddin’ party, when every fool knows those two treated their sister like trash for years. So how do they think they’re gonna get a pretty dress? Don’t answer that. The answer is, no one here knows how bitches’ minds work.”

  She sucked in a huge breath.

  Then she admitted, “I was beginning to get scared—me… Shirleen—that suddenly their fangs would come out and those vampires would lay waste to the entire guest list.”

  We all looked toward Ava’s sisters, Marilyn and Sofia, who nobody liked. Even Ava.

  They were in a huddle, clearly whispering, lips set in sneers, eyes to a woman I didn’t know, but I thought she was Luke’s aunt (or something). Which meant she was in her fifties. And there was nothing wrong with her outfit. She looked great.

  Then again, Marilyn and Sofia could talk trash about anybody. They’d cut their teeth honing that skill through a lifetime of abuse piled on Ava.

  And obviously they hadn’t stopped.

  Also, neither of them had a steady man.