by Tess Oliver
“Oh come on, babe, don’t be like that.”
Bentley snorted impatiently and whinnied low and deep, to remind me he was still there and still saddled and still hungry. “I’ve got to go, Nate.”
“Wait, don’t hang up yet. If not tonight, how about a Halloween party this Saturday? This guy who rides freestyle for Koolman Energy Drinks sent me an invite. He lives right next to your dad’s place. Should be cranking. The place is owned by Nicky King.”
“Who?”
“Nicky King of Black Thunder. I guess his kid is living there right now. I’ll pick you up at nine and wear something hot. Of course, you’re so naturally smoking—”
“Nate, stop. I’ll think about the party.” The laughter in the background grew louder. “You should get back to your visitors. Bye.” I hung up.
Bentley sprayed me with a loud, liquid snort. “Nice.” I wiped off my shirt. “Jeez, animal, you have the patience of a two-year-old.”
I unfastened the girth and yanked the saddle off his back. My gaze strayed through the open door at the end of the breezeway. The top of the house next door was the only thing visible over the brick retaining wall lining the back end of the property. I wanted to kick myself for being even the slightest bit intrigued by the ‘boy next door’ a phrase that made me nearly laugh out loud as soon as it passed through my mind. Especially if he was Nicky King’s son, a detail that should have turned me off completely. And yet, that little, wild voice inside me, the one that occasionally managed to grab the reins and steer me away from reason, was telling me to go to the party.
Chapter 5
Cole
Denver leaned down over his laptop and lifted his finger. “Prepare to be fucking amazed.” He tapped a key and the Rocky Horror Picture Show popped up on the sixty inch flat screen, its famous soundtrack blaring through the surround sound speakers. A white, chemical smelling mist circled up from the fog machine. The two life-sized mechanical zombies at the living room entrance started groaning and three black bats flew back and forth on the wire we’d strung across the room. Denver lifted his finger like E.T. and stared at it proudly. “One touch and it’s Halloween.”
I walked over for a fist bump but then pulled back. “I don’t want to injure that magical finger. The Taco King caterers are done setting up the taco bar, and the booze and drinks are ready to go.” I looked around at the cheesy decor. “Looks like we’ve got ourselves a party.”
Rodeo nodded. “Yep.” He’d ripped up a shirt and smeared on some zombie makeup, complete with one long chunk of skin hanging off his forehead. I had to hand it to him, he’d put in a lot more effort than Denver and me. Denver had pulled on an old Star Trek uniform shirt and declared himself Captain Kirk. And I’d bought a gold crown and a red princely cape. Both were already annoying the hell out of me.
Rodeo walked over and picked up some peanuts with his green rubber fingers. “Of course the only thing that will really make this party a success is the costumes. To be more specific—the women’s costumes. Or to be even more specific, the lack thereof. Skimpy always wins the day in my book.”
“You mean like the skimpy amount of brain cells in your head,” Denver quipped.
“Fuck you, you comic book nerd.” Rodeo heaved a peanut at him. Denver snatched it from midair and shoved it in his mouth. “We’ll see who gets more girls—the cool zombie or the Trekkie boy with a hard on for Volcanoes or whatever the hell those pointy eared dudes are.”
“It’s Vulcans, you anti-culture caveman, and your fake skin chunk is coming loose. Maybe it’ll drop in your beer. But you’re right, I’m sure the women will be all over you.” Denver looked my way. “So, who the hell are you supposed to be? A king, King?”
I tapped the crown. “Really? You can’t tell?” I bowed. “Prince Charming, at your service.”
Rodeo snorted. “Prince Charming? I’ve met him, dude, and you’re no Prince Charming.”
Denver turned to look at Rodeo. “You’ve met Prince Charming?”
Rodeo grabbed some pretzels from a bowl. “Yep, at Disneyland. Even took a selfie with him and Cinderella.” He grabbed out his phone and started thumbing through his pictures.
“I don’t need to see your selfie with Disney characters.” Denver snorted. “Save it to impress all those conquests you’re planning tonight. I’m sure the women will be all over you with that.”
Rodeo shrugged and shoved his phone back into his pocket. He popped the pretzels in his mouth, grabbed two beers from the table and tossed one to me. “So, King, do you think she’ll show?”
I knew exactly who he was talking about, and damn, if I hadn’t been thinking about her since our unfortunate first meeting. “I doubt it.” Aside from knocking her from her horse, I was sure I’d made a completely buffoonish first impression. Every word that bubbled from my mouth had been stupid. I should have been upset because I was obviously going to lose a bet that would cost me a car, but I was more disappointed in thinking I would never get to know Kensington. There was something about her I couldn’t push from my mind, something that made me think she was nothing like the other rich girls I’d dated. Of course, I’d had the wind knocked out of me just seconds before, so I might have just been missing all the clues.
“Who are we talking about?” Denver asked.
“The girl who is going to help me get my first Corvette.” Rodeo smiled and gulped back some beer.
“Oh, I forgot about your last stupid ass bet. She might come with her boyfriend.” Denver made a point of saying the last word to remind me that I’d really made a ridiculous wager. “I invited Nate Harkin.”
“Dude,” Rodeo said, “you’re not supposed to invite the chick magnets. We want that privilege. We’re the hosts.”
“Speaking of chick magnets,” Denver looked at me. “Did you invite your dad, Cole?”
“Oh, Denver, Denver . . . Denver from Boston, you are an odd one. Why the hell would I want to party with my dad? Would you want your old man to be hanging out with us?”
Denver looked up with that famous expression that let me know something good was coming next. “That’s because your dad’s idea of a good time is four naked women in a champagne filled hot tub. My dad’s idea of a ‘hoppin’’ time is an extra shot of espresso in his mocha latte at the local bowling alley.”
I laughed. “That’s why I keep you around, Denver. That and your handiness with technical shit. But my dad won’t be here. Just like Rodeo pointed out, you don’t invite the guy that all the chicks flock too. And trust me, even with his graying hair and whispers of a pot belly, my dad would have every female in the party circling around him like bees on honey.”
We could barely hear the doorbell over the movie soundtrack. “Our first guests are here.” I grabbed a beer and lifted it. “To a Rocky Horror good time.”
A face peered down through the glass panel on the front door. Denver laughed. “Is that Barrett Mason? Shit, I haven’t seen him in a year. So much for you being the big chick magnet in the room, Rodeo. Oh, but I guess Rett is no longer available.”
“Damn right,” I said and swung open the door. “Dudes! You all came.” I motioned them inside. I looked up at Clutch. “Holy fucking hell, I forgot what a fucking beast you were.” I pointed up to his only piece of costume—a Viking’s helmet. “Perfect disguise, man. Never would have guessed it was you.” I turned to my roommates. “Rodeo, Denver, you already know Rett. This guy filling up the entryway is Rett’s brother, Jimmy, or Clutch as his friends call him, and over here are Nix and Dray.”
“Hey, how’s it going?” Nix was wearing a flannel shirt, jeans and a beanie.
“Let me guess—lumberjack?” I asked.
He smiled. “Uh, tattoo artist lumberjack, if you don’t mind.”
Dray was holding back a grin.
Nix rolled his eyes. “Shit, ask to see
his costume before he explodes.”
Even though it was a warm night, Dray had on a black trench coat. It was wrapped shut by a loose belt.
I looked at the guys. “Tell me he’s got clothes on under that thing.”
Rett laughed. He’d pulled on a long cowboy duster and hat, and, as simple as it was, it would no doubt become an instant favorite among all the women, mostly because of the person under the hat. “Told you everyone was going to think you’re a flasher, Dray.”
“Shit,” Dray grunted in irritation, “you fucking people have no imaginations.” He untied the belt and yanked open the coat panels. A rubber alien, just like the famous stomach popping alien from the seventies classic movie, popped out.
I flicked the rubber alien face with my finger. “So much better than seeing you buck naked under that thing.”
I looked back out front. More people and plenty of the skimpy costumes Rodeo had been waiting for began streaming up the driveway. I looked at the guys. “Uh, aren’t you four missing your significant others.” I looked at Rett. “Where’s Fin?”
“Fin and the girls will be here. Eventually.”
“They were pissed that none of us were up for elaborate costume design,” Clutch added. “Taylor was sewing them all costumes.” He tapped his helmet. “We decided to do our own thing, and they’re doing theirs.”
Rett lifted the end of my cape. “Not sure who the hell you’re supposed to be, but I guess you aren’t planning to score tonight.”
“Fuck you. I can score wearing pajamas with little pink bunnies and a butt flap.” Rett and I had always been competitive when it came to women, but when he met my sister, Finley, he’d met his match. My brother, Jude, and I had given him a hard time in the beginning. Until we’d both realized we were just being overprotective, something we’d never gotten past as big brothers, especially because Finley had anxiety issues. She had always been vulnerable, and Jude and I had always watched over her when Dad was away, which was most of the time. Now Rett helped Finley at her rescue barn. Her relationship with Rett and spending her days helping rescued farm animals had saved her from the panic disorder that had kept her housebound for several years.
Dray tucked his alien back into his coat and looked around. “Two things, King.” He held up his fist. His knuckles, as usual, were swollen and bruised. He even had a nasty cut on one of them. Dray was an MMA fighter and a damn good one. He was smaller than his friends but far more lethal. He popped up one finger. It was twisted at an odd angle as if he’d broken it more than once. “Taco bar.” He popped up a second finger. “Foam pit.” He lowered his hand. “Not necessarily in that order.”
Denver and Rodeo had the door, so I motioned Dray and the others to follow me to the taco bar. The kitchen window looked out over the side yard where the ramp and foam pit were set up. I opened the blinds. “There’s the foam pit. Didn’t know you’d be interested in any playpen that wasn’t shaped like an octagon. Were you thinking of trying motorcycle or BMX bike?”
Nix picked up a plate. “I think he should try an airplane drop.”
Dray’s eyes widened. “Shit, I never thought of that. King, do you know someone around here with a plane?”
“’Fraid not, but if we all get drunk and bored enough later, I’ll pull out the BMX bikes.”
Clutch shoved a taco into his mouth in one bite. Once he was in front of food, he was in his own world.
Nix shook his head. “Remember, Clutch, there will be other people at this party wanting tacos.”
“I probably should have made him his own personal taco bar,” I said.
Clutch ignored us and motioned toward the front room. “Are those Tanix Racing Gear models? I think I’ve got them on a calendar.”
“You think?” Nix asked. “You’ve got those calendars hanging up all over your shop. You’ve got every damn month memorized.”
“Yeah, that’s Gina and Trista,” I said. “I dated Gina for awhile. How does Taylor feel about you and your calendar issues?”
Clutch shrugged and filled his plate again. “I’m in a relationship. I’m not dead. You ought to try it out, King.”
“Yeah, or I could just keep hopping from calendar girl to calendar girl. I mean the three dimensional ones, of course.” I tapped my crown. “And tonight it’s Prince, Prince Charming to be exact.”
Dray laughed. Clutch ignored him and continued shoveling in tacos.
“Are Jude and Eden coming?” Rett asked.
“Not sure. Jude thought he had some art show or something. But they might make it.”
Nix stepped closer to the front room where something had caught his attention. He took a sip of his beer as he turned to us. “Some extremely hot steampunk women just walked in.” He flashed us a grin. “And they’re ours.”
We all rushed forward to get a glance. Scotlyn, Cassie, Taylor and Finley had created quite a stir as they stepped into the house. In true steampunk fashion, they were dressed in leather corsets, a variety of tan and pinstriped skirts that showed off a lot of leg, black boots and top hats fashioned with feathers and steampunk ornaments.
Dray propped his arm over Nix’s shoulder. “I’m so fucking turned on right now.”
Finley spotted us first. The girls walked toward us turning every head in the room as if they were wearing people magnets.
Finley hugged me. “Hey, big brother, nice party.” She looked at Rett. “Boy, you really stretched yourself there, cowboy.”
Rett hiked the duster up higher on his shoulders. “I think it’s pretty damn original. But not as original as what you’re wearing.”
Scotlyn, who looked like a magazine picture even in sweats, looked as if she should be in a fucking Hollywood movie. She held out her arms to show off the skirt and corset. “Didn’t Taylor do a great job? She’s so talented.”
“Great job.” Nix told Taylor. “And you, hot steampunk chick, you look just like my hot wife.” He took hold of Scotlyn’s hand, pulled her closer and kissed her. The guy had smooth down to an art.
Dray talked over a mouthful of taco. “Cass, when we get home, baby, the leather corset stays and everything else comes off.” He looked at us. “Am I right?”
Cassie smiled and held out her palm to her friends. “Told you. But you can pay me later.”
“What’s that about?” I asked.
“We had a bet to see whose guy would be the first to make some dirty suggestion about the leather corsets. I knew it was a sure thing for me. I figured Nix would be thinking about it but be too polite to say it out loud in mixed company. Clutch would be too busy trying to figure out how to use the corset to his best advantage. Rett would have it right on the tip of his tongue, but he would hold back because Finley’s brother would be in hearing range. Dray, well as you know, he has no filters when it comes to societal norms.”
Dray should have looked insulted, but, instead, he was beaming with pride.
Cassie looked pointedly at Dray’s belted coat. “Please tell me you’ve got clothes on under that?”
Dray yanked his coat open and earned some well deserved screams. He had definitely earned an A for costume effort.
“How the hell does Nix always come out smelling so sweet in these comparisons?” Clutch asked.
Nix held up his left hand with his wedding band. “You forget the power of the ring, Bilbo.”
Taylor walked to the taco bar with Finley. Her gaze drifted to the front room. “Hey, sweetie, aren’t those your calendar girls out there?”
“Yep,” Clutch answered. “And we’ve already ran this topic around the room. But while you’re over there, make me another taco. Extra cheese.”
I motioned to the taco bar and drinks. “You guys help yourselves. I’m going to go out and charm my other guests.”
The front room was filling up fast. I headed th
rough and pushed open the back doors to the porch. A warm, late fall breeze ushered inside, instantly drawing people out toward the strands of orange lights hanging on the patio.
Denver caught up with me. “Hey, I’m going to turn off the movie and put on some music.”
“Sounds good.” I followed him back inside. I glanced through the maze of pirates, witches, zombies and other costumed guests to the front door, which now stood propped open. Kensington walked inside.
Her dark hair was swept up into a bun that was studded with rhinestones. She was wearing a satiny blue dress that was a sexy version of a princess gown with the front of the skirt cut short to expose sleek, silky thighs and a rhinestone garter. Clear slippers covered her feet. The back of the dress trailed off into a long, ruffled train. She was an incredible mix of sex and sweetness, an erotically innocent look that only a few girls could pull off perfectly. And she definitely had. The best part about her costume—I was fucking Prince Charming, and, it seemed, my Cinderella had just arrived at the ball.
I walked across the room, hoping I could make a smoother impression this time. At least I wouldn’t be flying over the handlebars of my bike. “Hey, Kensington, you made it.”
She smiled, which gave me a flicker of hope.
I pointed to the crown on my head. “Just in case you’re in need of a Prince Charming—” Right then, a guy dressed in white coveralls and a Michael Myer’s mask walked in through the door. He stopped next to Kensington and yanked off his mask. It was Nate Harkin.
He pointed at me. “Nicky King’s son, right?”
Hated him already. “Yeah, but my parents actually gave me a name, so I wouldn’t have to be called Nicky King’s son.” My sarcasm passed over him, but Kensington lifted white gloved fingers to stifle a laugh. I stuck out my hand. “The name’s Charming, Prince Charming, but friends know me as Cole.”
Harkin shook my hand, but instead of looking at me, his gaze drifted around the room. Asshole. Even standing with a gorgeous girl, he was checking out the other party guests. A grin popped up on his smug face. The Michael Myers mask was less creepy. “Hey, is that Gina and Trista from Tanix?” He waved at them before I answered.