Walk of Shame

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Walk of Shame Page 37

by Gregory, O. L.


  "Nervous to meet my folks?" he asked, drawing me out of my revelations.

  I smiled at him. "Not if they're as awesome as you've described them."

  "Just don't let my brothers intimidate you."

  "Should I have packed my gun?"

  He laughed. "No, I just mean that they might act protective."

  "Did they do that before the leg?"

  "No. And in all fairness, if it wasn't for them, I might very well still be spending my days holed up in my old room, only doing computer work. They drug me thirty miles out into the mountains and then helped me figure out how to survive out there. Weekend after weekend they drug my ass out there, to the point where it stopped being funny. And since they know what they had to drag me through, to get my head back on straight, they don't want to see a woman come along and undo it all."

  I nodded. "I can respect that.

  Dinner with his family was wonderful. They did an outdoor barbeque for us. His father was funny, his mother beyond sweet, his six brothers were outrageous, and his two sisters-in-law were apologetic for their husbands.

  Both his mother, and then his brothers cornered me. I did my best to answer their questions and put their minds at ease, but there was only so much reassurance I could give them, given the situation.

  They liked to laugh and have fun. They liked to make insults directed at one another, and any opportunity at a dirty joke or a good-natured dig at another's character was not to go untaken. Mike joined right in, dishing it out as well as he was taking it. And it did my heart good to know they showed him no favoritism, except for when they cornered me to let me know, in no uncertain terms, that if I was keeping him around for any other reason than for the hope of falling for him, they'd track my ass down when this was all over. But I got the distinct impression that they would have done that no matter which one of the boys had been on the show.

  I swept my annoyed gaze across all six of them. "You're brother is a grown-ass man. And I'm pretty sure he did the math and knew what the chances of his heart getting broken on national television were. It was his chance to take and he took it. I can't make any promises on whether or not I'll break his heart, I can only tell you all the same thing I keep telling him."

  "And what's that?" the blondest one asked.

  "That there's not a damned thing about him that I don't like."

  "So, you're trying to tell us that you like the fact that he's missing half a leg? Is that what you want us to believe?" the tallest one asked, incredulous.

  That one threw me for a small loop. It took me a half moment to come up with a response. "You know what, yes, I do. It's helped to make him the wonderful man he is today. He lives a fun, fulfilling, and adventurous life, that takes nothing for granted. So all of you can get the hell off my back about it," I told them.

  "Yeah," the dark-haired one said with a nod, "if he can bounce back from losing a leg, he can bounce back from a woman."

  "I'm sure his ego was in a fragile state after the leg," I said. "But he's not still as fragile as all of you are trying to make him sound like he is."

  "Maybe he's just masking it well for you," the hazel-eyed one suggested. "Maybe he is still more fragile than you'd like to think. But I hope you're right."

  It was then that I turned and saw that their father was listening in as I took on the six-man firing squad. I turned to him, "Anything else you want to add in, here?"

  "He said he met your father," he said.

  "Yes."

  "And are you a Daddy's girl?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "And did your Daddy like my boy?"

  "Your boy was my Daddy's favorite."

  He nodded to himself before looking at the guys. "Ease off her, boys. Mike's holding his own just fine."

  I walked away while the getting was good.

  His Dad followed me. "Don't do anything stupid like dump Mike this week because of those knuckleheads back there," he said with a gesture over his shoulder.

  I smiled. "If I can't hold my own against a group of concerned brothers, then I'm not worthy of you son."

  He smiled. "True. I'll tell you what. If you get to the end of this and decide that none of those fellas you got is just the right one, you come back here and I'll figure out which son to give you to try out next."

  I burst out laughing so hard, all eyes turned to me.

  "What?" he said. "I know a good woman when I see one. And I liked the way you put those boys in their place. You come back and I'll get you matched up."

  "Okay," I said through my laughter. "But I'm pretty sure I've got the pick of the litter."

  He nodded to himself again. "It does my heart good to hear you say that."

  Overall, the entire day was a success. And by meeting his family, I'd learned exactly where Mike had gotten a lot of his mannerisms, ideas, and general attitude.

  The family house was situated on the edge of town and before I left, Mike took me by the hand and led me on a short walk. "I hope you enjoyed today," he said.

  "I really did," I said. "I think if we ever lived in town for long, your brothers would drive me nuts. But I thoroughly enjoyed myself today."

  He laughed. "Well that sounds about right. The wives say they can only handle the group of us together in short spurts. I guess we can be a bit much to handle."

  "It's like walking into a wall of sporty, competitive, testosterone."

  "But Mom counter-balances it so well," he joked.

  I laughed. "She surely does. I've never been to a picnic where elbows weren't allowed on the table during the meal."

  "She says pumping manners into us was her way of keeping us civilized."

  "Did you guys ever rebel against it or anything?"

  He chuckled. "Once, when she tried to feed us some tofu dish. We decided that since the food wasn't any good, it didn't deserve our respect and we started flinging forkfuls at each other. We had it all over the walls and ceiling of the dining room."

  "Oh, I bet she loved that."

  "She sat there all calm and stewing as food flung around her. Once our plates were empty of ammo and the laughter died down, she told us that the manners weren't for the benefit of the food, but for the benefit of your host and the time and effort he or she had put into preparing the meal. Then she declared that she was on a cooking strike until her dining room was re-carpeted, wallpapered, and the ceiling repainted."

  I laughed. "She made you guys remodel her dining room?"

  "Yep. Made us pay for it, too."

  "How long was it before you guys were done?"

  "We took two weeks, dragging our feet and arguing over who had to do and pay for what the whole time. We ate enough canned soup and spaghetti to last us a lifetime."

  "And when you guys were done?"

  "Well, we botched it pretty bad and she made us do it all over again. Once we had it done properly, she asked us which room we'd like to have our next food fight in. Said she wouldn't mind having the living room redone, too."

  I chuckled. "She sounds like she was made to mother boys."

  "She certainly rose to the occasion when she needed to." He turned and pulled me into his arms. "I'm glad you liked my family."

  I smiled, and my gaze on his mouth. "Me, too."

  I leaned up and he met me halfway, kissing me as I wound my arms around him. He shifted his weight and lifted me up, an arm under my rear and the other against my lower back. My fingers threaded through his hair.

  Eventually my pocket buzzed with a text, probably from Troy to remind me of the early morning ahead of me.

  Mike lowered me to the ground and held me in a close embrace. He dropped his head to my shoulder and whispered in my ear, "I don't want you to go."

  I sighed against him. "I don't want to go."

  "Stay."

  I nuzzled his neck and teased his earlobe. "I can't. You know I can't."

  His hands started massaging my back. "Let me see you back to your hotel."

  I gave him a squeeze. "If you di
d that, you'd still be there come morning."

  "No, I wouldn't."

  "Yes, you would, because I'd keep you there. And you know I can't do that."

  "Am I that hard for you to resist," he asked, sounding pleased.

  I gave him a downright sultry look.

  "Mmm, don't look at me like that," he whispered. "Or I'll take you out behind the woodshed and have my dirty little way with you."

  I threw my head back and laughed. "The woodshed, wow, thanks."

  He laughed and kissed my neck, then kissed my lips one last time, before walking me back and handing me into the awaiting car.

  I turned in the seat and watched him disappear as we drove away. "Ouch," I said to the camera. "This is the first time I'm sad to leave one of them. Like, I really don't want to go, even though I know it's the right thing to do."

  Troy regarded me for a moment. He wasn't going to be heavily involved this week, except to make sure I got to where I needed to go, without the travel arrangements going haywire. "You're going to miss him."

  "You know," I shook my head. "It's so strange to say this, but I feel like I already do miss him."

  "Is it that you're feeling the absence of having at least one of them around? What I mean is, is it that there isn't anybody here? Or that he isn't here?"

  I shook my head. "I don't know. Maybe I've just grown too used to having them around. I just know that I feel like something is missing."

  Tuesday

  I'd passed out as soon as my head had hit the pillow the night before. Now I was cozied up in a recliner, on the show's private jet, flying to Alabama so I could meet Jared's family. I dozed the whole way there.

  I ended up at the family business, the Westmoreland Animal Sanctuary. The first place onsite production led me to was the amphitheater, where Jared was in the process of leading an alligator show and demonstration. It was impressive to watch him work the animals. He was very mindful of each alligator's response, position, and seeming mood. I paid attention to his eyes, to see them always looking around and scanning the reptiles as he talked. Then he let the gators go back into the water trough that ran at the edge of the stage area and assistants helped him bring out some snakes to show. Next, he brought in some caged birds that live around swamp areas and worked with them one-on-one.

  All in all, it was a good show. I was just thoroughly glad that he either didn't realize I was there yet, or he was content to let me watch. If he had tried to pull me up on stage, I might have run out, screaming.

  He was in the middle of talking to the visitors, as they made their way out of the show arena, when his eyes landed on mine and he smiled. He was obviously glad to see me. He returned his attention to answering questions, and I waited for him, trying to get my head on straight about actually being here.

  If I was just here as a regular visitor, I could probably be tentatively looking forward to seeing what would come next in my day. But circumstances being what they were, I was dreading what he might take me by the hand and show me next. Behind the scenes stuff that regular people wouldn't get to see, and probably wouldn't want to.

  I was scared. Terrified that he'd show me something during my visit that would have me telling him not to even bother coming to the next Walk of Shame.

  "Hey, sweetie," he said when he'd finished with the people and had come over to me.

  I smiled where I stood, "Hi."

  He greeted me with a hug and a kiss and swept me off to tour the preserve. I watched the food for the animals be prepared before I helped feed the animals I dared to go near. I met his parents, and saw his niece and nephew running around. Jared knew all the employees names and greeted them as we went. He put me on a boat and rowed me around the sanctuary, pointing out plant life and some of the animals. He did everything he could to help make me grow comfortable in my surroundings.

  We were at our final stop, the gift shop and offices, when he grabbed the doorknob and turned to me. "I'm figuring that however much you might manage to help out around here would more than likely happen inside here." He opened the door and stepped aside so that I could go in first.

  The gift shop was gorgeous. Beautiful posters of swamp blooms filled the top portion of the walls all the way around. His sister's preserved flowers in resin were there, along with all manner of knick-knacks and toys that they could link to swamp creatures. I'd never seen a mosquito stuffed animal before.

  The air conditioning was very welcome after an afternoon spent in the humidity. His brother-in-law was working in one of the back offices, talking to someone about a snake that had wondered into their house, and the park was dispatching one of their guys to go help the homeowner out.

  His family invited me to dinner at his parent's house, which I accepted. I met Buster there, the big, beautiful, black lab that turned into a hundred-pound baby when Jared walked into the room, whining and climbing up on him for attention. They were a tight-knit group, sweet and fun loving. They were every bit as gracious as the man they'd raised. I felt very welcomed and appreciated.

  I can't say a single word against the day, other than it was in the swamp. Granted, the park was much more civilized than the boat tour had been. And I'd love to help in the gift shop, maybe write up a book or two set in the area. But, it was the hot, humid, swamp. Things had slithered past the boat and something thumped it from underneath. I didn't feel safe in the swamp. I felt confident Jared would wrestle anything off me that might attack, but I didn't feel confident that I wouldn't be missing a chunk of flesh by the time he'd rescued me.

  I kept looking around me throughout the day, trying to tell myself that I could live here, that I could be happy. Then I'd look at Jared and mentally scramble that much harder to convince myself that the swamp was a fun place to be. I kept telling myself that I could have Jared. That all would be okay because he did travel up and down the eastern half of the country, and we could steal extras days before returning here. I kept repeating his thoughts of traveling for me in the winter, in my mind.

  I wanted to like the swamp, damn it.

  Because then I could have him.

  These were the secret thoughts I had every time I spent a day with Jared. I was so in like with him that it was pathetic.

  Jared took me back to the park that night. He wanted me to hear the nighttime sounds the animals made when they were free from the crowds, and the sounds of the humans no longer drowned them out. "What do you think?" he asked.

  "It's peaceful," I said, meaning it. It was easy to relax and enjoy the various sounds and noises when I knew the animals were all locked up and put away for the day.

  "It's my favorite part of the day. I usually volunteer to walk the last security check of the day, after the gates are closed. You can feel them all settling in for the evening."

  "You look totally at peace here."

  He shrugged. "It's home."

  Jared out of his element was sexy. Jared in his element was enough to make a girl weak in the knees without him even trying.

  "Does the accent lose something for you when you're surrounded by it down here?" he asked as he turned to pull me into his arms.

  "No. None of them are speaking with the combination of that accent and your voice," I said with a smile.

  His thumbs brushed across my cheekbones as he smiled down at me, "I love you," he whispered before leaning down and kissing me. I rose up on my tiptoes and wrapped my arms around him, answering the only way I could. He leaned down again and scooped me up with both hands under my rear. I squealed and tightened my hold when he started walking.

  The camera crew scrambled to keep us in a lit shot as they tried to follow behind us.

  He backed up and sat down on one of the tables in the food stand area. He shifted to my neck as my knees hit the surface of the table and released my hold to run a hand up through his hair. He pulled the neck of my shirt off a shoulder and began kissing the skin he'd exposed. His other hand massaged the back of my scalp and I dropped my head back, humming on a sigh.


  He came up for air. "Is it next week, yet?"

  I giggled at him. "No, why?"

  He shifted his hold and brought me flush up against him. "So I can get you into a bed without an audience."

  "Oh," I breathed on a heady sigh.

  "How slutty would you say I am?"

  "Like on a scale from one to ten? Three, maybe four," Chloe answered without hesitation. "Why? Who'd you do?"

  My eyes rolled. "I haven't done him yet."

  "Yet? Who are you gonna do?"

  "Chloe, stop. I need an opinion here."

  "All right, hit me."

  "Jared is expecting sex on the twenty-four hour lockdown."

  "Yeah, so?"

  "So? Do you think they're all expecting sex on the twenty-four hour lockdowns?"

  "If you haven't clearly said 'no' by now, then yes, they are."

  "So they're expecting me to sleep with three of them next week? Where's that going to put me on the slut scale?"

  "First of all, it'd put you at a ten, no doubt. And second of all, hold on." She put the phone on mute for a few minutes as I paced back and forth across the hotel room I was supposed to be sleeping in.

  There was a click and a breath taken in before I heard Dad's voice. "They don't expect you to sleep with all three. They each expect you to sleep with them and no one else. And whomever you sleep with will expect to be the final one standing at the end of this. They each might be willing to accept the idea of you sleeping with maybe one other, but not all three. And if you do sleep with two, they better be the last two standing."

  "Hi, Daddy."

  "Hi. Can I be done with this conversation now, or do you have any other questions your sister thinks you need a guy to answer?"

  "Any pieces of sage advice you can give me? Because I'm getting down to the wire, here."

  "Marriage is compromise, baby girl. But don't set yourself up to lose who you are, and don't expect them to lose themselves, either. Be realistic about who you are, who they are, and what you both want for your life."

 

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