For the Roses

by Tymber Dalton

  “I’m Tony, one of the hosts tonight. Welcome, everyone. I see a few new faces, so let me get the announcements out of the way so we can get to the introductions…”

  Elvin glanced at the menu so he wouldn’t hold the server up when it was their turn to order and tried to keep one ear tuned to the announcements.

  Uncertainty ran through him. He couldn’t get up and leave, because it’d be rude, and he rode with Jackson and Noah.

  Yeah, he was attracted to Meri, and he was still trying to sort out if that really was okay or not.

  Yes, it’d been over twenty years since she’d been in his classroom.

  But…

  But what?

  Was he trying to make up excuses when he’d been introduced to a pre-vetted woman who shared some of his less-conventional interests?

  Was he trying to sabotage this?

  Maybe he was.

  Dammit, I want a life, and I’m tired of being alone.

  It was hard to have a “conversation” with literally the rest of the table nonchalantly failing to pretend they weren’t all listening and trying to see how they were getting along. Maybe everyone at the table was more experienced in kink than he was, but it didn’t mean he wanted all of them involved in this chat with Meri.

  He pulled out his phone and leaned in closer. “Can I send you my number?”

  “Sure. Absolutely.” She read hers off to him and he texted her. After taking her phone from her back pocket, she added him to her contacts from the text. “Sorry it’s still a St. Louis number. I guess it doesn’t matter since it’s a cell, but it’s the same one I’ve had for years.”

  “It’s fine. I wanted to know if it’d be okay to have dinner together this week. Alone. I mean, at a restaurant.” He took a deep breath and chastised himself for fumbling this even more. “I don’t mean alone-alone. I mean you and me in public. I…I don’t mind talking about myself with all of them around, but unless you’re really comfortable discussing kinky stuff in front of your brother, I’d rather we meet alone to talk.”

  She smiled. “You read my mind. Can we meet up tomorrow night? I’m busy on Tuesday and Wednesday.”

  “That works perfectly for me. You name the place and time. Anytime after five I can probably make it.” He studied her eyes, the way the golden and green flecks in their brown depths seemed to pick up shards of light. “Eliza told me you have way more experience in all this. More than I do. She also told me to keep an open mind and listen. I don’t even know everything that I don’t know yet, but I’m willing to have as many conversations as we need to have to work on this. If you’re interested.”

  * * * *

  Was she interested?

  Hell, yes!

  “You haven’t said anything to scare me off yet.” She offered him a smile. “I do have a crazy brother, though.”

  “That’s true,” Ron interrupted, resting his chin on Meri’s shoulder. “She does. Crazy motherfucker. Owns axes and swords and runs around pretending to be a Viking in his free time.” He grinned.

  He tried to remember Ron as a student and had a recollection of him being the funny kind of smart-ass.

  Much like he seemed to be now. “Viking?”

  “Yeah.” She elbowed her brother and pointed for Ron to turn around and resume his conversation with Jackson and Noah. “Viking re-enactment. Not just randomly acting Viking.”

  “Ah. That makes sense. Was he at the Sarasota Ren Fest?”

  “Yeah, him and his group.”

  “Okay, I think I saw him when I went there.”

  The introductions went fast for their table. Wynn went before she did, and simply stood, gave his first name and said, “Nice to be here.”

  She kept it simple, too. “Meri, just returned to the area and reconnecting with friends.” She sat without giving her D/s role or saying anything else about herself.

  The last thing she wanted was Doms swooping in on her, especially tonight.

  All she wanted was uninterrupted talking time with Wynn.

  They spent the entire evening chatting, too. As an adult, she saw a different side of him than she remembered. He was funny and thoughtful and damned sexy.

  He didn’t appear to be a know-it-all asshat, which was a relief.

  He also spent some time chatting with Darryl and Grant, especially Grant, who was a Dominant. She’d excused herself to go to the bathroom and got waylaid by Eliza on her way back. “Well?”

  “I think you did great.”

  “He really seems to like you.”

  But on her return to the table, Meredith caught the tail-end of a comment from Wynn to Grant.

  “…but thick and curvy women, too. Who wants a skinny toothpick with bones sticking out all over?”

  She wasn’t exactly a toothpick, but she didn’t exactly hit the curvy end of the scale anymore, either. She’d closed her eyes on a surgeon’s table, with an hourglass figure trying to kill her, and awakened pear-shaped and soon-to-be-single.

  Breathe. Don’t assume anything. For all she knew, it was an out-of-context statement that could be totally innocent.

  Mostly, she did pretty good with that, too.

  Mostly.

  By the time they reached the end of the evening, she already knew when and where she wanted to eat the next evening. “You know that Cuban place at Bahia Vista and 41?”

  “Yeah?”

  “How about there at six?”

  He smiled. “It’s a date.”

  Reluctance slammed into her when he offered his hand to shake before they parted ways and she wanted to hug him.

  Then his comment about thick and curvy women slammed back into her brain, as did her mental restriction upon herself about hugging others. She had started in for a hug, pulled up when she realized what she was doing, then forced herself to continue after he opened his arms to her.

  She kept it short and struggled against the conflicting thoughts in her brain.

  One simple pleasure she hadn’t been able to engage in ever since that morning Peter broke up with her.

  Too self-conscious to enjoy human contact, unless it was hugging Ron.

  I need to talk to Wynn about this.

  Because if he was going to have a problem with her about it, better to find out now rather than delay the agony.

  They were halfway home when Ron broke the easy silence. “You didn’t tell him about your cancer.”

  “No.” She stared out the window.

  “Question—”

  “Because we had a table full of people watching and listening to our every word. I get to choose when and how I tell people.”

  “There’s nothing to be ashamed of, Meri. It was breast cancer. You’re a survivor.”

  “I don’t care,” she quietly said. “Please respect my wishes.”

  His aggravated sigh meant he’d back off, but he wasn’t happy about it.

  Now the trick was to not get her hopes up too much before she could talk to Wynn about it.

  And hope that he wasn’t put off by her when he knew the full story.

  Chapter Nine

  Monday morning, Elvin awoke after sleeping pretty damn good, for a change. He still regretted mowing the lawn, but at least he wasn’t hurting as badly as he worried he might be.

  And he had something to look forward to that night.

  After thirty minutes of stretching and low-impact exercise, he headed for the shower. No workout this morning. He’d pick it back up on Tuesday rather than risking triggering another pain cycle. He didn’t want to resort to using the vape pen if he could avoid it. He was no hero, but he also didn’t want it to become a crutch.

  He’d just reached his desk and set his bag down when Jackson skittered into the room after him and wearing a wide grin, snagging the door and pulling it closed. “Well?”

  “Well what?”

  “You guys are going out tonight, right?” He wore a pleased grin.

  “Yes, we are, but come on, dawg. Please don’t do this.”
r />   “Do what?”

  “Act like a damn mother hen. We literally just met. Don’t expect a movie miracle, bruh.”

  “She’s perfect for you. And I sent Tristan a generic text and he agrees the circumstances are fine.”

  He turned on Jackson. “Dude! You do not get to tell others about my relationships!”

  “I didn’t. Duh. I said generic. I asked his opinion on if it’s been over twenty years since someone taught a student, and there’s less than ten years age difference between them, is it kosher if they date, and he agreed it’s fine. So chill.” Jackson waggled a finger at him. “Do not sabotage this just because you’re hung up. That’s three of us teachers now saying there’s nothing wrong with you dating her.”

  “I’m not hung up on anything but not wantin’ the entire teaching world of Sarasota County knowin’ my shit!”

  Jackson’s grin widened. “Have fun tonight. I’m going to want a full report tomorrow.” He headed for the door.

  “You ain’t gettin’ one!”

  Jackson waggled his fingers at Elvin over his shoulder but didn’t turn.

  Shit.

  He’d been doing pretty good not thinking about Meri so far today, but now that his mind had turned to her, he couldn’t think about anything but her.

  Damn good thoughts, too.

  Okay, I can’t hate on Jackson too much. The man had indirectly introduced the two of them.

  Plus the man had a point. He couldn’t sabotage this just because of his fear.

  Now all that remained was him making it through dinner that night without acting like a total jackass and scaring her off.

  * * * *

  Meri arrived first at work Monday morning. This part of the job was easy. She had a key and an alarm code and got the building unlocked and opened up. The work wasn’t nearly as difficult as she’d been making it out to be at first. As she learned the accounting software and started picking up the industry lingo, she was panicking less and less.

  Leo had assured her as long as she wasn’t rude to customers, there were few mistakes he couldn’t forgive, and she strove to live up to the faith he’d put in her. She’d actually taken one of their suppliers’ catalogs home with her over the weekend to go through it to familiarize herself with it. She’d likely never be a welder, but she wanted to know the difference between the different kinds of supplies the guys used, and understand at least some terminology. She’d also watched several YouTube videos about welding basics.

  Admittedly, it was a more interesting job than her previous one, which entailed sorting statistics and data and compiling reports and analyses, all from the comfort of a cubicle twice as large as most of her coworkers’ cubes, because she’d been there longer and was a supervisor.

  For all the good that got me.

  She’d already watched Leo repair an outboard lower unit in the shop, as well as weld a boat trailer frame. Plus they were fabricating a custom firepit for a man who was a fan of Game of Thrones and wanted dragons on it. They did everything from custom fabrication to on-site repairs of heavy machinery, a diverse spectrum of services she’d never thought about before.

  Their dad had been an accountant and couldn’t even replace the guts in the toilet by himself. Fortunately, she and Ron had taken after their mother’s father, who’d been a mechanic, and they both had a knack with their hands.

  Leo arrived shortly after she’d finished rolling up the back door.

  “Dang, you weren’t kidding when you said you didn’t mind being here first, were you?”

  “I really appreciate you giving me this chance, Leo.”

  “Hey, I believe in paying it forward. A lot of people locally helped us out when I had my accident, and then again when Kenny was born. I’m willing to take a chance on someone one of our friends in common recommends to me.”

  They were still alone in the shop. “Can I ask you a lifestyle question?”

  “Sure.”

  “I’m not sure who Kenny is. Is he your son, or Nate’s, or Jesse’s?”

  He smiled. “Yes.” Then he laughed. “Hey, never ask a sadist a question like that. Nate is Kenny’s biological father, but we all co-parent. Just like Jesse and Nate are Laurel’s step-fathers. We share a large house, and we take turns with the kids so the other parents can have a little free time. It works for the kids and for the adults.”

  “That’s awesome, seriously.”

  “Thanks.” He smiled. “Sooo. The munch was last night.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I know Eliza was trying to pair you up with someone.”

  She nodded. “She did.”

  He winced. “That bad? She’s usually dead-on.”

  “No, actually, we’re going to dinner tonight.”

  “Then why do you not seem happy about that?”

  “Personal time?”

  “Yeah.”

  She gave him a quick rundown. Leo was easy to talk to, and she knew from what everyone else had said about him that he wasn’t the kind of guy to go running his mouth and blabbing your personal discussions. It was nice having someone from work in the lifestyle, someone she could talk to.

  He slowly nodded. “Well, before you jump to conclusions, let him explain himself. Maybe it was like you said, heard out of context. And, honestly? If he isn’t into you because of what you went through with your cancer? Fuck him. You can do way better, in that case.”

  “This is new territory for me. I haven’t really tried to date since Peter. I was too busy recovering and then trying to find a job, and…” She shrugged. “I’m really out of practice.”

  “Be yourself. I remember how terrified I was. Eliza wouldn’t have matched you up with him if she didn’t grill him herself. She’s pretty damn tough when it comes to that.”

  “So I’ve heard.”

  One of the other guys arrived, ending their chance to talk privately.

  All she could do was hope her worst fears weren’t realized tonight. Because she didn’t really want life to kick her yet again.

  Also, she didn’t have bail money to get Ron out of jail for threatening to axe someone.

  * * * *

  Ron wasn’t home from work yet when Meredith returned home. She still had a couple of hours before her date with Wynn, which he’d confirmed earlier in the afternoon via text.

  That was good, right? That he didn’t take the opportunity to back out?

  She grabbed a shower and felt a brief moment of panic when she realized she didn’t know where any of her “going out” clothes were. They were still packed.

  Following close on the heels of that the revelation that she really didn’t need those clothes yet. Those were the kinds of clothes she’d wear to a BDSM club or a private party, not to a Cuban restaurant in Sarasota for dinner.

  I’m really out of practice.

  She dug out a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved blouse with bell sleeves and that the fabric twisted in the front, over her chest, helping disguise things a little. At least she’d be able to wear any heels she wanted. Peter had only been three inches taller than her and unless they were going to a lifestyle event, he didn’t want her wearing heels that made her taller than him.

  Should’ve been another damn clue.

  She’d just finished fixing her hair and putting on her makeup when Ron returned home. He stopped in her bathroom doorway and gave an appreciative whistle.

  “Nice.”

  “Not too much?”

  “Nah. Perfect. Casually chic. You’ll slay, honey.”

  “Thanks.” She turned to him. “You didn’t hear him say anything last night that rang warning bells for you, did you?”

  He scowled. “No, why? Did you?”

  She shrugged and turned back to the mirror. “Probably nothing.”

  “No, tell me what you heard.”

  “When I was returning to the table, he was talking to Grant and Darryl. I think you were up and talking to Everett and Wylie. I heard Wynn say something about liking thick and c
urvy women. I didn’t hear the whole thing.”

  Ron’s right eyebrow slowly slid skyward. “You’re thinking about tanking this on a partially-heard statement taken completely out of context?”

  “Not…tanking this. Just don’t want to screw up. Look how badly I fucked up with Peter.”

  “All I know is that Eliza apparently trusts the guy, and from what Grant, Darryl, and Susie told me, that whole Frightful Five gang is like the Delta Force of kinky matchmaking. I think you’re safe. Don’t make up red flags that don’t exist just because you were burned before. Talk to him tonight and ask him what it was about.”

  She must have been wearing a “look” because he stepped inside and rested a hand on her shoulder. “Look, stubborn. I know you know how to communicate. I’ve seen you do it. Stop putting up walls. What’s the worst that can happen? You ask, he answers and owns up to it and admits he’s not really attracted to you, you have dinner, you come home, we drink mead to drown your sorrows.

  He held up a finger. “Or…now, hear me out, because I know this is crazy-talk. Maaaaybe he explains the context, he is attracted to you, you have dinner and a great time, and you come home with your next date scheduled. And, of course, we drink mead in celebration.”

  “I sense a running theme with you.”

  “Come on, mead rocks, and you know it. Maybe I blew my liking of harder stuff out the window in my younger years, okay? My roommate’s brother lived with us and made liquor store runs for us. He was twenty-one. It took me maybe six months to lose my taste for the crap. It’s only been in the past couple of years I rediscovered the joys of sipping a nice wine or hard cider.”

  “Or mead.”

  He grinned. “Fuck, yeah. Mead rocks.”

  * * * *

  Meredith left with plenty of time in case traffic was an issue. She arrived ten minutes early, and was just getting out of her car when Wynn pulled into the parking lot and parked in an empty space three down from her.