by Jo Willow
“Do you see those men down there? Three guys at the third table, second row back. Two have black hair, one has dark brown.”
“The hotties? Hell yeah.”
Mel’ shot her look that would have had a lesser woman slithering into the shadows.
“See the one getting the lap dance by the floozy in leather?”
“That’s Liza.”
“Who the fuck cares? I’m not adding the bitch to my contact list, listen. I want you to send that guy a drink from me.”
“What kind of drink?”
“Send him a Red Headed Slut. He’ll understand the reference.”
“Will do.”
The waitress walked away and Mel’ caught me staring at her.
“What?”
“Is that even a real drink?”
She rolled her eyes and chugged her third glass of wine.
“Yes Dorothy. It’s a real drink. It’s got Jagermeister, peach schnapps, and cranberry juice.”
I screwed up my face and fortified myself with root beer.
“That sounds awful!”
I saw her lean forward and Ayla and I did the same. The waitress was delivering the drink. She pointed us out and Deacon looked our way. I smiled and waved and he smiled and waved back. I blew him a kiss and he caught it.
Anton wasn’t smiling, waving, or catching kisses. Anton did a no-no. He put his hands on the woman that was grinding into his lap.
I’m interrupting our story for a minute to point something out. I understand that rules are in place for a reason. But if you’re wearing nothing but a thong and you’re grinding against strange men in a strip club, I don’t think it’s unreasonable to wonder why you’d seem surprised if one touched you. I’m not saying he has the right to touch you, I’m saying one is bound to take a stab at it.
Which is exactly what Anton did.
It happened so fast, I don’t think Pierce or Deacon noticed. As a matter of fact, I know Deacon didn’t because he was making crazy eyes at me and I was grinning and stuff right back at him. Pierce’s eyes were on us as well, but I think he was watching Melody. Who happened to be standing up.
Ayla leaned over and spoke loud enough for me to hear.
“My money’s on Mel’ over Anton. She looks madder.”
“Yeah but he’s bigger. If she gets the first blow in, he’s toast.”
Melody was on her way over and we stood to follow. So did the bouncer, because Anton was touching the pretty lady and that was a Cloud Nine hard limit. The bouncer should have left it to Melody.
We beat the bouncer to the table and picked sides. Deacon stood and kissed my cheek.
“Hey baby! It’s good to see you, but what are you doing here?”
“Hi Hon’. My sister chipped your brother and then he friend zoned her. She’s here to find out why.”
Deacon nodded as if this were an everyday occurrence, and the redhead on Anton’s lap looked up. I decided to start out friendly.
“Hi Liza.”
She smiled.
“Do I know you?”
“Not yet, but you may be pressing charges against my sister.”
Mel’ jerked Liza off of Anton’s lap just as the bouncer put his hand on her shoulder. She turned on him in a flash and he wisely took a step back and held his hands up.
“Get your fucking hands off of me Bozo. No one touches girls in this club remember?”
That confused him and he had to think about that for a minute. Meanwhile, she turned back to Anton.
“That goes for you too pervert.”
Anton stood up with his hands fisted at his side, prompting Pierce to stand up as well. Anton towered over Melody and she leaned in towards him just as pissed.
“You sent me a red headed slut!”
Liza piped up, obviously offended.
“Excuse me?!”
I patted her on the arm because I was closer.
“Not you girlfriend. It’s the name of the drink she sent over. I mean, you might be a slut, I don’t know, but he was talking about the drink.”
She gave me a dirty look and motioned to the bouncer with her head. He came over to escort her backstage.
Melody and Anton were radioactive at this point and so I took the opportunity to get Ayla out of the line of fire. Her eyes were on Pierce and I figured there was no time like the present.
I inched us closer until he was standing right next to her and I was standing on the other side of her. I leaned over and tapped him on the arm. Pierce looked at both of us. He smiled at me, but his eyes lingered on Ayla.
“Pierce Sloan, this is Ayla Warren. She’ll be walking with you on Saturday. Ayla, this is Pierce. Deacon’s youngest brother.”
Now this next part is cool and I probably would have missed it, except I remembered what Ayla had said about him earlier.
Pierce extended his hand in her direction, his eyes never leaving hers. In that deep Sloan voice that drips sex and innuendoes, Pierce addressed her.
“Ayla, it’s nice to meet you.”
Serious as grandma’s knickers, Ayla did the coolest thing. She placed her hand into his, said, “It’s nice to meet you, Sir”, and then she lowered her eyes.
Holy fifty shades. The minute Ayla said, “Sir”, his nostrils flared and his pupils dilated. He stared at the top of her head and a tiny smile began at the corners of his mouth. This. Was. Hot.
Pierce gave her hand a little squeeze and put his other hand on her shoulder. It must have been some kind of signal or something, because it seemed to be okay for her to raise her eyes again. He put his hand on her shoulder and she leaned into him. I was frustrated as all hell, because I knew there was a whole area of my education missing. They were communicating without speaking and I wanted the Rosetta Stone for this conversation.
Deacon leaned over towards me while Anton and Melody were screaming at one another.
“What’s going on with Pierce and that woman?”
“That woman is Ayla Warren, my other bridesmaid. She and Pierce are walking together Saturday Deke, you’ll adore her. Pierce is dominating her. Watch.”
“Dominating her? He’s barely touching her.”
I rolled my eyes and leaned closer to him.
“Not THAT kind of dominating, the other kind. Ayla’s playing submissive and he’s eating it up. Your brother is a Dom.”
“No way.”
“Yes way. He’s getting all fifty shades on her and she’s lowering her eyes and calling him ‘Sir’ and everything.”
“You know about this stuff?”
“A little. I am so gonna hook them up.”
“Dorothy...”
“Oh lighten up Deacon. Let me play.”
That’s when Melody shoved Anton. Hard. Hard enough that he stumbled backwards over his chair and right into Ayla, who fell flat on her ass. Pierce didn’t take it well.
I’ve never seen Pierce angry, so I didn’t recognize it for what it was at first. Deacon did, and pulled me out of the way. Pierce shoved Anton harder than Mel’ did, and he was beginning to look like a pinball. The bouncer was back to tell us to take it outside, when he got clocked by our stumbling trouble maker. No, not Melody, Anton.
My eyes never left Ayla and Pierce. I could hear Deacon trying to make peace with the bouncer and a slightly inebriated Melody yelling something about it being Mr. Voodoo’s fault, but my eyes were on Pierce.
He stood towering over her looking even more in command than I’ve ever seen Deacon look. Pierce, looked fierce. He reached out his hand and said four words.
“Ayla, take my hand.”
Even I felt it in my bones, I can’t imagine what Ayla was feeling.
She put her hand in his and he pulled her to her feet.
“Are you alright?”
“Yes Sir.”
“You may call me Pierce. Are you sure you’re alright?”
“Yes Pierce. I’m fine. Thank-you.”
He nodded once and then did the damndest thing. Pierce slipped his ar
m around her waist and pulled her into his side. He was protecting her. She glanced over and caught me staring, and winked. I started blinking.
Anton said something about bouncer’s being nothing but glorified ticket takers and the guy took umbrage. So he punched Anton. Deacon pulled Anton back before he could take a retaliation swing, and my sister took it for him. The poor bouncer never saw it coming. That’s when we heard the sirens.
Let me paint the picture and do a recap. Three cop cars hauled all six of us in. The bouncer was pressing charges for assault and battery and so was Anton. Some guy in a suit took them both away, hoping to iron out their differences and avoid paperwork. The rest of us sat in a holding cell until they could figure out where we came into play. My sister’s hand was probably broken, and Deacon kept yelling in essence, “Do you KNOW who I am?”. The place was too hot and the root beer wasn’t settling well. Plus, I was getting a headache.
The only people who seemed to be taking everything in stride, were Ayla and Pierce. They were huddled together on a bench over in a corner, talking as if they were in a coffee shop on a Sunday morning.
As far as Bachelor Parties and Hen Nights went, I was fairly sure this blowed. On a lighter note, it wouldn’t be quickly forgotten.
Chapter Seventeen
Deacon and his brothers left Thursday after work. We’d been released once all charges were dropped and they realized that they had the Sloan brothers, a best selling author, and one of the hottest new fashion designers in New York, locked up in a cell over a misunderstanding. Deacon and I went home laughing, but I’m betting we were the only two.
Deacon packed his jeep with everything he’d need through Saturday night and I gave him a proper send off. I knew I’d see him Friday at the rehearsal, but I missed him already.
Once he was gone, I cleaned the kitchen and then went to pack my own bag. My wedding dress was hanging on the closet door with everything I needed to go with it, inside the garment bag. Two months ago this didn’t seem like a remote possibility.
I finished packing and hung the dress I’d chosen for our “escape”, on the closet door with the garment bag. Once everything was zipped up tight and ready to roll, I opened my underwear drawer and dug around beneath everything until I found what I was looking for. I took the brown paper bag into the bathroom and closed the door.
I’d never done this before. I’d never had to. I was on the pill when I was with Hamm, but it had always made me queasy for a few hours after taking it. Once the relationship was over, I was more than ready to leave the pill behind. I’d never had a relationship after that one, that warranted constant vigilance. Not until now.
The ad on the box said that it was accurate at seventy-two hours after conception. Today was day four, if you didn’t count every day after Sunday. I mean come on. The horse was already out of the barn, why not throw a barn dance?
I got comfortable and unwrapped both tests. I know me. Either way, I’d want confirmation. I reached over and turned the water on, the sound triggering something in my mind or body that made me kick it up a notch.
Three minutes later, I was washing my hands and staring at the two wands, mentally willing them to hurry up. I sat back down and thought about what it would mean.
First, I wouldn’t have to worry about a wedding gift for Deacon. This would top anything I could buy anywhere. I’ve never seen any man as excited about the possibility of being a father. It’s like he’s rubbing lamps, tossing pennies into wells, and searching for the elusive four-leaf-clover. Deacon wants a child. Once I got over my wedding wobble and started thinking about everything else, I realized that I wanted to be the one to give that to him.
Second, our parents. Need I say more?
And last burt certainly not least, I was ready. I don’t know when it happened, but now when I’m running or shopping or just watching television, every time I see a baby I sigh and get wistful. I want a black haired green eyed child that looks a little like both of us, with the perfect combination of his intelligence and my sense of humor. I want to go through all of the joy and worry with Deacon, and watch with pride every step of the way as we conquer milestones together. It may sound sappy or soft, but that’s what I wanted. Deacon wanted that too and that’s why it would be the perfect gift.
While I was dabbing at my eyes and thinking about all of this, my wands were making magic happen. I leaned over and the same words appeared on both. My breath hitched and now I had a problem. How in the world do I gift wrap this?
I arrived Friday with Melody and Ayla. We were hoping to have at least a couple of hours lead time, but my folks were already there. Poor Deacon had been dealing with both sets of parents for god knows how long. Parents who’d been waiting for weddings since their children were old enough to marry. He must be ready to tear his hair out.
I carried half our stuff and Ayla carried the other half. Melody had her hand in a cast and a sling, immobilizing it for the foreseeable future. Her broken hand and Anton’s black eye would be entirely visible during the wedding. Instead of angry, Deacon and I were laughing our asses off. It served them right. She deserved it for being a jealous stalking cow, and he deserved it for yanking her chain and being a pig. They hadn’t laid eyes on one another since our release from jail, late Wednesday night. As far as I knew, they hadn’t spoken either.
Pierce was in the living room and saw us first. I heard him yell for Deacon, then both men stepped out onto the front porch. Deacon ran to take everything heavy from me before he leaned over and claimed me with a kiss.
“Hey baby, I missed you. How was the drive?”
“Quiet. Mel’ is still sulking and I think Ayla is trying to figure Pierce out. They look cute together, don’t you think?”
“Dorothy...”
“Come on Deacon. Don’t you think they’re a cute couple?”
“There are a lot of people that look good together that shouldn’t be a couple Dor’. We should stay out of this. If they should be together, they’ll make it happen without our help.”
I followed him down the downstairs hall and into the first door on the left. Two twin sized beds and a cot had been set up, along with a changing area and a rack to hang clothing on.
“This is where you three will be until after the wedding. Then you’re with me forever.”
He dropped everything on one of the beds and pulled me in for a monster hug. I melted against him and thought about my secret. I smiled against his chest and couldn’t wait until tomorrow.
Pierce saw that the door to the makeshift bedroom where the women would sleep was closed. He assumed correctly that Deacon and Dorothy were in there, trying for some alone time.
He placed the two garment bags and the suitcase down on the living room sofa, and took Ayla’s hand. She followed him willingly up the stairs and into the room he’d known as his, for all of his adolescent life.
When he reached around her and closed the door, her eyes went to the floor. When he backed a few steps away from her, she took a chance. In an effort to get closer to him and learn more about him, she fell to her knees. Her palms rested against her thighs and her eyes were cast downward. When she heard him release a shuddering sigh, she risked a smile.
She watched his feet come closer, but she never raised her eyes. That would not be acceptable until he said otherwise. She felt his hand come to rest on the crown of her head before he spoke.
“How did you know Ayla?”
He didn’t have to elaborate, they both knew what he was referring to.
“I have a certain amount of...experience in this area Sir.”
“I see. You’re a sub?”
“I have no Dom at present, but I have subbed in the past, yes.”
His body stiffened and his grasp became temporarily firmer before he released her.
“Are you looking for a Dom?”
This time she broke the rule. She looked up and made direct eye contact. His sky blue eyes were turning the color of the ocean.
�
�That would depend on the man. Sir.”
He tugged her to her feet before opening the door and escorting her out, his hand firmly on the small of her back. Before they descended the stairs, he pulled her back.
“You and I will spend some time together and we’ll talk. If you want this Ayla, tell me after the wedding and we’ll exchange numbers. We’ll have plenty of privacy once we get back to the city. Do you understand?”
“Yes Sir.”
“Until we have an arrangement of some kind in place, you should call me Pierce.”
“I can do that...Pierce.”
“Good. Now come meet the families. The rehearsal will start shortly.”
The six of us jailbirds were clustered in the yard while our parents talked about us as if we weren’t there. They talked about using makeup to cover Anton’s black eye, but Anton blatantly refused. Then they began to talk about how they could disguise Melody’s cast. I couldn’t help myself.
“I think we should cover it those little rubber flowers you put in the bottom of bathtubs. It’ll help it look festive.”
Melody glared at me and my mother actually put her hands on her hips.
“If you have nothing constructive to offer Dorothy, keep your mouth shut.”
“Yes ma’am.”
They continued brainstorming and Deacon leaned towards me with his hands in his pockets, and spoke in a singsong voice.
“You got yelled at by mom.”
I yelled out so that everyone could hear me.
“Mom! He’s touchin’ me!”
Deacon looked insulted.
“Am not!”
“Are too!”
“Both of you shut the hell up this instant or you’ll be sent upstairs!”
Wow. Way to get parental Bree. Deacon did her one better though.