by Kilby Blades
Time to put an end to this. Vanessa could dance with anyone she wanted to. Within reason.
As he made his way to the dance floor, intent on cutting into Vanessa's dance, he was suddenly waylaid by arms around his waist. He looked down into a pair of brown faces, with eyes as black as night and a smattering of freckles across their noses. They beamed at him, and he went to ruffle their curly heads, but they burst into giggles and evaded him. It was an old game between the three of them. They didn't want their hair touched, so he always made a point of pretending to do so.
"Dance with us, Uncle Bubba!" Vanessa's six-year-old twins, Scarlett and Charlotte, demanded in unison, then burst into giggles.
And really, how could he say no? So he picked up the little girls, one dangling from each arm. Despite the girls wearing formal white junior bridesmaid's dresses, they attempted to climb him as if they were a pair of baby goats.
"Girls, knock it off!" He admonished them, laughing. "You're going to get your dresses all messed up, and what would your mother say?"
"I don't care! She's not the boss of me!" Charlotte exclaimed, kicking her legs.
"I'm pretty sure 'Boss of you' is number one on the list of qualifications to be your mother," he told her. Charlotte was the spunkier, more impudent of the two girls, her mother's mini-me if ever there was one. The alpha in him recognized Charlotte's dominant tendencies. Which was only one of the reasons Bubba would make a great father to the girls, someday.
Vanessa was never married to Ben, the coywolf father of her daughters. Ben had been a soldier, and was killed during a training exercise. Bubba had made it a point to find out all those details. He was ready to step in to be the father the girls needed. He had a vision of the four of them moving back to Perdition to raise the girls there where they could roam free and explore their animal natures.
In his opinion, the girls were more wolf than coyote, and therefore better off living in a country town like Perdition, where he could take them on runs and they could live with a pack. In fact, Perdition would be perfect.
There was only one problem with moving to Perdition? He'd been banished for life. So that town wasn't really an option. He frowned, remembering the series of events that led to him being banished and forcing to go into foster care with various shifter families in the Waco area.
But the girls were with him now, and this was not the time to get all into his feelings. He was responsible for them at the moment, so he needed to put his feelings aside.
The music started up and he put the girls on their feet. He twirled them around, swept them off their feet, and taught them a couple of new dance moves. The girls learned how to do the bump, and they did it together, bumping hips and falling into fits of giggles as they bumped their hips together, which quickly evolved into bumping shoulders, chests and backs, hooking their elbows together and twirling until they made themselves dizzy.
They went faster and faster, and Bubba was about to break it up before they did each other physical harm, when Leona and Mac's mother, Anita, swooped in and scooped up the girls, hustling them off the dance floor with promises of more cake.
The music stopped just then, and the partygoers began to drift away to find their seats. Bubba felt eyes on him, along with a presence that caused him to swivel his head, even though he knew already who would be there, watching him with a cold stare.
Vanessa.
You Can’t Hurry Love
Vanessa's eyes narrowed on Bubba. The man was always around. She clenched her jaw when he stuffed his hands casually in his tuxedo pockets and strolled up to her. Blake, the handsome, blond minotaur she'd snagged for a dance, excused himself to go sit with his date.
"Can I buy you a drink?" Bubba asked her.
"It's an open bar," Vanessa pointed out.
"What can I get you?" He asked, giving her a rakish grin.
She sighed. One little drink couldn't hurt, she supposed.
"Let's see what they have," she mumbled.
At the bar, she ordered a Shirley Temple, and he ordered a Lone Star.
"You're not drinking?" He asked, motioning to her non-alcoholic drink. "You should unwind."
"I'm still a mom tonight," she told him, nodding at her twins, who were currently scarfing down large wedges of the bridal cake under the indulgent gazes of two grandmothers.
"Let's go outside," he said. "The girls are good right now. And I could use some air." His smile was easy, and at least for the moment, he wasn't leering at her.
She gave Bubba a sidelong glance, then said "Sure."
She pursed her lips and followed him out of the ballroom. She could use some air herself. After weeks of wedding planning with Diana, she was ready to relax. The wedding party and out-of-town guests had booked rooms at the hotels adjacent to the country club. The grandmothers had booked adjoining suites and would be keeping both sets of twins, Vanessa's girls, as well as Diana's babies. Vanessa's plan was to crash after the reception, and attempt to sleep in. As a single mother, sleeping in was a luxury she seldom indulged in.
After all the prep that went into the wedding, it felt good to have not a single thing to worry about. Outside of the ballroom, on impulse, she kicked off her pumps and sighed deeply as her feet and calves relaxed. She closed her eyes to savor the relief and when she opened them again, Bubba's eyes were on her, watching her intently. She ignored the ripple of desire that coursed through her, and turned away from him to head for the outside door, leaving her shoes parked right outside the ballroom door.
"Hey, you gonna leave these?" he asked.
"Nah, they aren't going anywhere," she said, shrugging.
He bent to pick them up by their slingbacks and followed her. Without her shoes, he towered over her. He had a good five or six inches on her. Outside, she inhaled the cool evening air and rolled her shoulders.
Despite what she'd said earlier, she was actually curious about what was going on in Bubba's home town.
"Where are you from, Bubba?" She took a sip of her Shirley Temple and looked out on the golf course.
"A little town near Waco called Perdition," he said, looking both wistful and pained at the same time.
She wondered at the look that crossed his face when he mentioned his hometown. He looked sad.
"What do you need to do there?" She took another sip, and felt goosebumps break out over her body, unsure of whether they came from the cold, or the thrill she always felt around this man. She shivered.
Without a word, he removed his jacket, and for the second time that evening, she found herself enveloped by his warmth indirectly. She took a deep breath of his scent. Like her sister Diana, Vanessa had the psychic gift of sensing when someone has shifter abilities, through scent. Bubba had a scent that her brain interpreted as burning leaves.
My God, this man smells sooo good...
Her eyes drifted close as she inhaled his scent. She wavered a bit on her feet, suddenly feeling the months of wedding preparation
"Just some things that are long overdue..." he trailed off, looking evasive. Reluctant to continue. So unlike his normal, gregarious self. She searched his face for a hint of what might be causing that expression.
“How long are you staying?”
“That depends.”
“On...?”
“On you, of course,” he said. He towered over her, and she loved the way he smelled. Burning leaves. And spice. But she needed to keep her wits about her. His eyes had softened on her, and she detected a hint of vulnerability.
"What do I have to do with it?" She tried to keep her voice light and teasing, but something in his eyes looked deadly serious. She wasn't used to this version of Bubba.
"You have everything to do with it," he said, giving her a faint smile.
She squinted at him and cocked her head, confused.
"What are you trying to tell me, Bubba?"
"The same thing I've been trying to tell you for the last eighteen months." He looked straight at her, his expression tender. Vu
lnerable.
Vanessa's lips twitched.
"We're friends," she said, turning away from him. Excitement buzzed through her body, despite all her conviction that he was not the man for her.
"Vanessa," he said to her back. "We're not friends."
Another shiver ran over her body. Vanessa thought turning around to face him was a bad idea. Turning around to the serious discussion he wanted right now, to questions she couldn't answer...at least not the way he wanted.
She jumped when she felt his hand on her shoulder. She was pulled into his hard body, her back to his front, and she sucked in a breath. This was the closest she had ever been to him. Ever.
His arms encircled her from behind and he shifted his weight from foot to foot, pressing his...cucumber against her back.
"Wha-what what are you doing?”
He held held her in his arms, breathed in her scent, and whispered in her ear. “What do you think I’m doing?”
His voice was a dark, rumbling thing that started deep in his chest. She could feel the vibrations from his chest against her back. His lips ghosted over the nape of her neck, prompting an all-body shiver and a roll of her hips. She backed into his groin and made a subtle grind against him. His scent enveloped her, his heat surrounded her and she just about lost her mind.
She thought of her girls, and the two grannies keeping them. She thought room service and sleep sounded great, but something else sounded even better at the moment.
“We can’t do this right now,” she said, turning around and flattening her hands against his chest. His eyes were fully dilated, reflected eyeshine around the irises. The expression on his face was no longer laughing. When she put a hand on his cheek, his skin almost scorched her. The dusk that closed in on them cast his face partially in shadows.
Lust was heavy in his voice when he said, “When do you suggest we do it?"
"I'm not going to mate with you," she told him. His gaze on her remained hard. Determined.
She pulled his face down to hers, brought her lips to his ear, and whispered something for his ears only.
Then she left him outside.
Don’t You Forget About Me
Alone in the cold, he watched her go. She was still wearing his suit jacket. He thought about what she'd whispered in his ear.
“Room 1223. Two hours.”
She’d told him, although he already knew the room number. Because he made it his business to know everything he could about her.
He reflected on the fact that it had taken him this long to even get to first base with this woman. But good things come to those who wait.
After a few minutes, he re-entered the club, and went to mingle with the dissipating crowd while Vanessa said goodnight to her girls and excused herself for the evening.
Yes, good things come to those who wait. It seemed his wait was nearly over.
“Valentine’s Day from Hell” by R.L. Merrill
After two delayed flights, a five-hour layover, and an Uber ride through the hell that is Bay Area traffic on a Thursday afternoon, Orrie Jones was relieved to be home. He burst through the door and called out for his fiancé, Dalton Bishop.
He was greeted with silence.
It was after six and Dalton was usually home by then. Orrie figured he would just dump his bag upstairs and take a quick shower while he waited. Perhaps Dalton would arrive in the middle and they’d both enjoy a surprise.
Orrie had finagled a quick trip home before heading back out for a Saturday performance. The extra travel was a drag but getting to spend Valentine’s Day with Dalton for the first time made it all worth it. Last year he’d been on his way to Europe and hadn’t been able to come home, so they’d settled for FaceTime. It had definitely been hot, but nothing like what Orrie had planned for tonight.
He’d told Dalton to be ready for a romantic evening, but his last-minute plans had almost been derailed by delays, and he’d called Dalton and let him know that was a possibility hours before. Hopefully Dalton hadn’t decided to do something else?
The shower temperature cooled and still no Dalton. Orrie got out and dried off, thinking it was time to send out a text. It wasn’t like Dalton to be late
Guess who’s wet, naked, and ready to greet his Valentine?
Dalton didn’t respond in the time it took Orrie to dress, fix his hair, and grab a sandwich in the kitchen. Now Orrie was worried. He texted again, but after five more minutes with no response, he decided to call. It seemed unlikely Dalton would be in a business meeting at this time of day, so Orrie dialed his cell. No answer. It definitely wasn’t like Dalton not to answer his phone when Orrie called. Orrie’s last option was to call Sanjay, Dalton’s personal assistant and close friend. If he didn’t answer, Orrie was going to lose his shit.
“Orrie! Did your flight land already? I’m sorry, I was supposed to text you.”
“What’s going on, Sanjay? Dalton’s not home and he’s not answering. I’m starting to freak out.”
“Shit. I am so sorry. Dalton’s going to be pissed. Look, your sister called him this afternoon, frantic. Their babysitter canceled and they had tickets to see a show in the city. Your mom has the baby and Dalton told them not to worry—that he’d take the boys. I was supposed to let you know where to meet him in case you made it home.”
“You’re lucky I wasn’t out checking emergency rooms. Jesus, I was scared half to death.”
“I screwed up. I’m so sorry. Let me try to fix this. Are you at home?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll come get you. They’re across the bay at some wildlife place.”
Orrie sighed. “Sulphur Creek?”
“Yeah, that’s it. You know it?”
He most certainly did. Olive had held Hendrix’s birthday there last year. Orrie had heard all about how Clapton had held a snake and how Hendrix wanted a pet tarantula. He’d been devastated to miss it, but Olive let him know that Hendrix still talked about their trip to Disneyland in December as the greatest time in his life. “I do. Now, are you coming? If not, I’ll get a Lyft.”
“No! Don’t do that. Please. Dalton’s already going to make me suffer for screwing up. If I let you Lyft, I’ll be done for.”
Orrie chuckled, his worries fading now that he knew Dalton was safe. “How will he make you suffer?”
Orrie heard a horn honking in the background and Sanjay cursed.
“I just almost got run over by our receptionist. You know how he makes me suffer? He makes me work the front desk so the admin up front can take a spa afternoon. Do you know how much stupidity they have to put up with? I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
Sanjay disconnected and Orrie sighed. He stood in the living room, stunned for a minute. There went their romantic evening. But how could he be upset? What a wonderfully sweet thing to do, to offer to watch the boys. It was the kind of thing that made Orrie love him even more. Orrie called and cancelled the reservation he’d made at the Claremont in Berkeley. All hope was not lost. The boys might fall asleep early. It could happen…
“Hendrix, honey, please stop kicking my seat.”
“Sorry, Uncle Dalton.”
Dalton white-knuckled the steering wheel as he was cut off once more on Mission Boulevard in Hayward. He was paranoid of having an accident with precious cargo in the back seat and dealing with rush-hour mania wasn’t helping his blood pressure. It would be so much easier if Orrie were here.
God, he missed Orrie. He hadn’t seen his fiancé in over a month and his heart hurt. The two bundles of joy in his backseat would have to suffice, though. The last he’d heard from Orrie was that his flight was delayed and he wasn’t sure he could make it for a last-minute Valentine’s Day rendez-vous. He’d seemed off during their last few conversations and from their FaceTime chats; he could tell Orrie wasn’t getting enough rest. Dalton had even called Joshua, Orrie’s manager, to make sure he was eating right and taking his medication for his anxiety. Joshua took great care of Orrie out on the road, which is the
only reason Dalton hadn’t flown out to meet him. His decision to come out for just a night, though, had Dalton worried.
Dalton looked in the rearview mirror at the two mops of curls currently headbanging to Sad But True by Metallica—their request. He hadn’t taken the boys out by himself before, but when Olive called to see if he might possibly be able to help, Dalton had leapt at the chance. Anything to keep his mind off the absence of his beloved on Valentine’s Day.
“Are we almost there?” Hendrix asked for the third time.
Dalton looked at the map on the screen of his Tesla and sighed, reminding himself that this had been his idea. Well, his and his dear brother Terrence’s.
“Waze says we’ll be there in twenty-three minutes, buddy. We just have to pick up my brother first and then we’ll be there.”
“You has a brudduh? Who you brudduh?”
Dalton could listen to Clapton talk for hours. The little guy had the cutest speech impediment. Dalton’s youngest brother, Stanley, had talked just like that when he was little, and he didn’t get help for it until he was in middle school. Dalton and Terrence had chased off many a bully for teasing poor Stanley. Of course, then Stanley hit his growth spurt and ended up a starter on the Castro Valley High School varsity football team his freshman year. Terrence had been just as big and an even better football player. Until he’d started drinking.
“I have two brothers. Stanley and Terrence. You met them at Christmas, remember?”
“The guys who yelled at the TV, remember?” Hendrix asked his brother.
“Ohhhh. You brudduhs aw noisy.”
Dalton chuckled as he pulled into the driveway of his father’s house.
The boys were back to singing and rocking out while Dalton debated whether he should take them out of their car seats and into the den of slack, or if he should just honk. Honking might be considered rude. There were elderly folk on this street.