by Dahlia West
Sarah ordered a margarita, apparently her first in quite a while. Abby got a martini. Tildy studied the drink menu until Abby ripped it from her hands and ordered her a sangria. Tildy didn’t drink much, apparently, but when the waitress set the glass down, she gulped furiously.
“Slow down there, luscious,” Daisy warned.
Tildy giggled and put the glass down. “I’m nervous.” She looked at Daisy with wide brown eyes that reminded her of a puppy’s. “Does it hurt a lot?”
Daisy wrinkled her nose, deciding what to say. “Well, it hurts some. But the spot you’re getting it isn’t bad. Don’t drink too much though, if Adam’s any kind of a decent artist, he won’t do it if you’re wasted.”
“Drink a little bit more, though,” Abby said, nudging the glass toward her. “Adam’s going to be looking at your ass the whole time.”
Tildy squeaked.
“No, he won’t,” Daisy assured her. “He’ll have a towel. You’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Sarah asked.
Tildy took another sip and nodded. “Yep. I am resolved.”
“The appointment’s not for a few hours,” Daisy reminded her. “You’ve got time to change your mind.”
Tildy frowned and looked at the half empty sangria glass. “Can I get one of these to go?” she wondered out loud.
“The lingerie store isn’t far from here,” said Abby. “And Adam’s shop is the opposite direction. We can walk to both places.”
“I spend way too much money there,” Sarah mused. “The lingerie shop, not the tattoo parlor. Abby loves it, too.” She wrinkled her nose. “Though I don’t know what she buys there. Nothing is made of leather.”
Tildy giggled and Daisy raised her eyebrows. Abby waved her hand at Sarah.
“Leather?” Daisy repeated.
Abby rolled her eyes. “I do not wear leather underwear!”
“Just a leather collar,” Tildy whispered looking around to make sure no one heard.
Abby’s cheeks turned as red as her hair. “That’s it! You’re cut off,” she said, grabbing Tildy’s sangria.
“A collar?” Daisy asked, surprised.
Abby bit her lower lip and then dove for her martini glass. “Only in the bedroom,” she mumbled.
“Not true!” Tildy said grinning and pointing to Abby’s gold necklace. “That’s the daytime one.”
Daisy leaned forward and inspected it. It looked normal. Well, it looked like it was worth more than her mama’s trailer but normal. “So, you’re on the bottom?”
Abby blushed again and nodded. “I’m his... submissive. That’s-”
Daisy nodded. “I have cable,” she said. “Well, I didn’t. Ricky Snell did, though. And one time we watched that movie 9 1/2 Weeks. It was hot... but creepy.”
Abby laughed. “It’s not exactly like that.”
“Good. ‘Cause he was an asshole.”
“Tex isn’t an asshole. He’s... God... he’s the most amazing man I’ve ever met.”
Daisy leaned back into her chair. “Well, damn,” she said looking at all three women. “I guess there are only three great guys in the world and they’re spoken for. Figures that’d be my luck.”
“Easy’s not an asshole,” Sarah told her.
Daisy made a face and sipped her drink.
“Really, he’s not. He’s just... had some problems lately.”
Daisy snorted. “Yeah. His cock seems to have taken over for his brain.”
“It’s not like that,” Sarah insisted. “I just... I don’t want you to think that about him.”
“Sarah,” Tildy said quietly. “He did her in a public bathroom and didn’t even ask her name.”
“He was upset!”
Everyone stared at her and she put her glass on the table. “Okay,” she sighed. “But you can’t say anything. At all.”
Abby and Tildy put their glasses down as well and Daisy figured this was the part where they were going to dish.
“Brenda, that girl he was seeing?” she said for Daisy’s benefit. “He caught her making fun of his leg.”
Abby’s mouth dropped open. “Oh, my God!”
“Witch!” Tildy cried, giving Daisy the impression that she didn’t curse all that much, either.
Daisy could think of some other choice words for a girl like that. “What the hell is wrong with her?”
Sarah shook her head. “I don’t know. But that’s always been his biggest fear. He doesn’t say it, but I know. He’s afraid of what girls will think of his leg. It’s why he’s never gone with anyone until her.”
Tildy looked puzzled. “He’s with a different girl every weekend at Maria’s.”
“But he never goes home with them,” Sarah pointed out. “And when we lived next door, he never had one over. Have you ever seen a girl at his place?”
Tildy considered it then shook her head. “Never.”
“So, he never really dates them,” Sarah concluded. “He just talks to them.”
Daisy swirled her straw into her own sangria and watched the ice melt. “So, um, if he’s never been with a girl that you know of, then how long...?” She let it trail off and finally looked up at Sarah, who seemed to have known Easy the longest.
“Almost three years,” she told Daisy.
Daisy whistled and sat back in her chair. “Holy shit,” she whispered. “Three years?”
“That explains a lot,” Abby said quietly. “I didn’t realize.”
Daisy shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “I wasn’t very nice about it,” she said, feeling ashamed.
Sarah sighed. “Well, doing it in a bathroom was a bad choice,” she pointed out. “If he’d have waited and had a... connection with someone, it would’ve been better.”
Or maybe he just needed a little more privacy, Daisy thought, remembering the night before when Easy had played her like a six-string guitar, his fingers like magic, everywhere at once. And that cock...
She cleared her throat then snatched her sangria off the table to hide her discomfort. She liked these girls, but she wasn’t about to tell them what had happened… or how he’d just walked out on her afterwards.
An hour later, Daisy had several pairs of new underwear that she probably really couldn’t afford but hadn’t been able to resist buying anyway. It was just a shame that she’d managed to have sex twice since coming to Rapid City, both times in her old granny panties. She grimaced at the memory of having worn them with the hottest guy she’d ever seen up close. Given how he’d walked out on her, it seemed unlikely she’d have another opportunity. Now, holding the door to the tattoo parlor open for a sober and nervous Tildy, she spotted Adam, the second hottest guy she’d ever laid eyes on, and further lamented that she wasn’t going to get any of that, either.
She stepped inside, and he grinned at her from the doorway of a booth. His shop was nice, clean and well-thought out. There were semi-private rooms on both sides, one for each artist, she assumed. On the wall were large sheets of flash. She pictured having her own sheets up there someday, if her commission work started taking off. She’d never have the patience to learn to tattoo herself or to sit with annoying college girls or guys with roaming hands long enough to put on one on, but drawing was perfect. She could work alone in quiet, out of the way places and just watch the world go by.
Adam sauntered over, looking mouth-watering in leather pants. Daisy had never seen anyone but rockers actually be able to pull off that look. He greeted Tildy warmly and gestured to one of semi-private rooms. It had a large bathroom connected to it, and he told her there was a towel hanging on the rack. Tildy paled and looked like she might bolt, but, surprisingly, she rallied, and Adam went to make a photocopy of Daisy’s hawk drawing while she changed.
“Daisy,” Adam called out from the open doorway.
As she stepped out of the room and back into the larger lobby, he held out some cash to her. “The guy loved it,” he told her. “I figured he would.” He grinned at her. “Guess we se
ttled on money instead of sex.”
Daisy folded the bills and stuffed them into her pocket. “Better than money for sex, I suppose.”
He laughed. “It’s for the best,” he told her. “I’m all for three-ways but not with another guy.”
Daisy’s face darkened and she shook her head. “There’s nothing going on between me and Jimmy.”
Adam laughed again. “Honey, a guy comes to your motel room looking to go to the mat with another guy, that’s something. Trust me.”
“He wasn’t going to fight you!”
“He would have if I’d have stayed,” he assured her. “He wanted you, Daisy. He wasn’t there for coffee and conversation.”
“Not true,” Daisy grumbled and looked away.
“Did you have coffee and conversation? Or did the two of you twist up your sheets?”
Daisy felt her shoulders sag. “I didn’t plan it,” she mumbled.
Behind them, someone gasped, and Daisy whipped her head around. Abby, Sarah, and even Tildy, wrapped in her towel from the waist down, stood in a tight group in on the other side of the open doorway.
“Oh, my God!” Sarah cried. “You did it again?!”
Daisy groaned loudly. Adam’s eyes twinkled. “Sorry, honey,” he told her and walked away. Daisy turned to face the horde.
“I didn’t plan it!” she repeated.
“Are you going to see him again?” Sarah asked.
“I’m not seeing him now!”
“You slept with him twice!”
“He just… keeps showing up!” Daisy cried.
Sarah stepped forward, suddenly concerned. “Daisy-”
Daisy put up her hands to ward her off. “I’m not going to hurt him, Sarah. I promise you. I get it now, all of it.”
Sarah shook her head. “But-“
“I’m pretty sure it’s over,” Daisy told her. “He walked out on me, didn’t even say goodbye. I think… well, I’m pretty sure he just wanted to prove that he could do better than the first time. Mission Accomplished. I… I wish he was interested in me,” she admitted. “But he’s not.”
“He’s just scared.”
“I can’t make him like me, Sarah.”
Sarah bit her lip and looked at Daisy. “Could you try?” she asked.
Chapter 17
Tildy pulled up to a cute, white house with black shutters and parked her car in the driveway.
“This used to be Shooter’s place,” she explained as she got out of the car. “Before he met Sarah and bought the cabin for her.” She nodded her head to the smaller, blue house next door. “That’s his, too.”
“Who lives there?” Daisy asked. When Tildy didn’t answer, she tore her gaze from the house and to her new friend. “Oh, you’re kidding.”
Tildy shook her head and gathered up her shopping bags from the car’s trunk. “Nope.”
“I seem to have fucked myself into a black hole from which there’s no escape,” Daisy grumbled.
Tildy blushed but laughed. She unlocked the front door, ushered Daisy in, and closed it behind them. “I like it,” Daisy declared.
“The bathroom’s amazing!” Tildy told her and tossed the bags on the couch. “The kitchen’s nice, too. All new appliances. If I can ever figure out how to actually use them. Sarah’s trying to teach me to cook. It’s going okay, I guess. But I’m not as good as she is.”
“I’ve only eaten there once, and I think it’s safe to say no one’s as good as she is,” Daisy agreed.
Tildy tugged at her waistband and grimaced.
“Itches?” Daisy asked.
Tildy nodded.
“Well, whatever you do, don’t scratch it. The ink will bleed and it’ll look terrible. Just take your pants off.”
Tildy looked horrified and glanced around at the completely private living room. “Just... walk around in my underwear?!”
Daisy laughed. “Well, I certainly don’t care. I doubt your man does.”
The young woman frowned and skirted around the kitchen island. “I couldn’t do that,” she said and headed toward the hallway. “I’ll be right back.”
She appeared minutes later wearing an oversize jersey knit sleep shirt that hung just below her butt. It was pink, and not like anything Daisy would wear to bed, but it seemed to suit her. “That’s what you wear to bed?”
Tildy blushed and nodded.
“Those panties are going be a big hit.”
Tildy grinned and came back into the kitchen. She grabbed a bottle of wine off the counter and opened a drawer. “I know,” she told Daisy. “He’ll love them. He’s not going to be thrilled about the tattoo, though.”
Daisy shrugged. “He’ll get over it.”
Tildy filled two glasses and began pulling various items out of the fridge. “You want to stay for dinner?” she asked. “Such as it is?”
Daisy nodded. “Absolutely. Thanks.” She wandered through the kitchen to the attached dining area, passing by the sliding glass door and did a double take. “Whoa,” she said, stopping in her tracks. There was Easy, in total shirtless glory with a sheen of sweat covering his chest.
Tildy peeked over her shoulder. “Oh, yeah. He does that. Not that I watch,” she amended.
“Damn,” Daisy whispered. “Impressive.”
“You’ve never seen him naked?”
Daisy shook her head. “Not even just his shirt.”
Tildy nudged her. “I’ll invite you over on Saturdays,” she whispered, even though there was no one around to hear.
“Does he always wear pants?” Daisy figured he must be hot as hell mowing in the noonday sun in a pair of jeans.
“Always,” Tildy replied.
“Have you ever seen his leg?” She turned to look at Tildy, who shook her head.
“No. Never. Not even Sarah has. When we go to the lake, he won’t come.”
“That sucks.”
“He doesn’t like to talk about it, either. At all. And he gets twitchy if you try to help him. When we first moved in, Hawk offered to mow both lawns.”
Daisy snorted. “Bet that went over well.”
“He ignored us for days. He hates being thought of as weak. It’s hard to know, though, exactly what will set him off.”
The sound of a bike engine rolling into the driveway had Tildy skittering away from the back door. “Don’t tell him I was looking!” Tildy hissed.
Daisy laughed and saluted her with a glass of wine. “My lips are sealed, woman.”
Tildy tugged nervously at her sleep shirt, and Daisy rolled her eyes. “Too late, now, Tildy. He’s going to notice.”
“He’s going to be mad.”
Daisy shrugged. “He’ll get over it.” “Or,” she said thoughtfully, “he can get one for you. Then you’re even.”
Hawk’s keys hit the lock and the door swung open. He stepped in and to his credit, only paused for a moment as he took in the two empty wine bottles and his half-naked wife. He glanced at the empty glass on the counter. “We’re playing ‘It’s Five O’Clock Somewhere’?”
Tildy giggled nervously. “Yes.”
“Are we having a sleepover, too?” he asked, looking at her shirt.
Tildy bit her lip. Hawk came further into the room and watched her carefully. Daisy was pretty certain that Hawk had eyes like his namesake and very little, if anything, ever got past him. “What’d you do?” he said casually.
“Um...”
Hawk looked at Daisy, but Daisy pressed her lips together, only re-opening them to take another huge gulp of wine.
“I’m making quesadillas!” Tildy chirped. “I have chips and salsa, too!” she told him. “Do you want some?” She turned and flitted toward the kitchen. “Wash up and I’ll-”
“Freeze.”
Tildy did as asked but turned back around to face him. Hawk’s eyes narrowed and he strode toward her. Daisy saw Tildy gulp, and one of her feet lifted off the floor. “Don’t even think about it,” he warned.
The other woman gasped as her man gr
abbed her around the waist, swung her around so she was facing away from him, and yanked up her sleep shirt over her hips. He looked down at the gauze taped to Tildy’s skin.
“Talk. Now.”
“It’s for you,” Tildy chattered.
“I didn’t ask you to do that.”
“Well, I wanted to!” she argued.
“What is it?” he demanded. “I can buy you flowers. Whole bouquets of them, every Date Night. You don’t-”
“It’s you!” Tildy protested.
“It’s what? You got my name tattooed above your ass like Abby? Babe, I know you belong to me. I don’t need to see proof of-”
“Even better!” Tildy insisted. “It’s a hawk.” She looked at Daisy, her eyes begging for help. Daisy slid the folded piece of artwork out of her pocket and handed it over.
The large man plucked it gently from her fingers and opened it. He studied it for a good, long while. “I don’t dislike it,” he declared.
Tildy squealed. “He likes it!”
“I didn’t say that,” he corrected. “But I think we need to discuss it before making decisions, permanent decisions, in areas of-”
“It’s my body!” Tildy countered.
Hawk looked down at her, crossing his arms in front of his broad chest. “Oh, so if I come home with a Prince Albert, you wouldn’t have an opinion on it?”
Tildy’s nose wrinkled. “What’s that?”
Hawk grinned. “It’s a stud that goes through the cock head and when we fuck-”
“Stop!” Tildy said, covering her ears, which were already turning purple.
Hawk obliged, but still smirked at her.
“I wanted it!” Tildy told him. “And it had to be now, because I won’t be able to later. Maybe not for a long time. So I did it! And that’s all there is to it!”
He cocked his head to the side. “Why now, exactly?” he asked her.
Tildy crossed her own arms and squared off against her old man. Daisy got the impression of a chihuahua going up against a mastiff. She suppressed a laugh and took another drink.
“I want a baby,” Tildy declared loudly.
“A baby.”
She nodded sharply. “Yes. Now. And you’re not supposed to get a tattoo if you’re pregnant. Which I want to be.”