Trent threaded his fingers through Teal’s and led her up to the little bench seats. Positioning her to his side, and not behind him, Trent motioned for her to give the man the three bucks. When she did, the game shot to life. Lights lit up at his seat, and the carnie started shouting. He held the gun and placed his aim. When the carnie screamed go, Trent drowned everything else out. Focusing on the bull’s-eye, he pulled the trigger. Seconds later, the game was over and Teal was squealing like a little girl as the carnie handed her the stuffed bear. Trent stood and watched as she held the gray thing close to her chest.
She pressed the bear to her lips and kissed it, turning to Trent. “Thank you, baby!”
He marched over to her and gave her a kiss. When he pulled away, she was just how he liked her—breathless and quiet. “Take me to the next game, woman.”
Teal led Trent to one of his favorites, the High Striker. Every man across America had played this game at least once. As a child, it was a way to test manhood. As a teen, it was a way to get into your date’s panties. But as an adult, it was a way to test common sense. Or at least, that is how Trent saw it. With the games as rigged as they were, Trent followed a few simple rules carnies had taught him some twenty years ago. He watched as a carnie demonstrated the game.
The carnie held the mallet over his head and swung. The mallet came down with a loud plop and the crowd watched as it lit up to the top and the bell rang out, as if a testimony to the carnie’s strength. “Next up!” The man yelled, paying no attention to the dirty-faced kid sadly eying a stuff panda.
Trent marveled at the power stuffed animals had at a carnival. Hell, back when he was a teen, you'd be granted permission to fuck your girlfriend’s brains out if you won her a couple of those things.
“Where are his parents?” Teal questioned.
Trent looked around to see no one watching the kid. He shrugged, not surprised. He'd spent half of his childhood without supervision, too. “They probably dropped him off.” He glanced at the boy. He seemed so much like Trent as a child—alone and uncared for.
“Jesus, Trent. That kid is probably no more than nine years old.” She placed a hand on her hip. “Who drops off a nine-year-old at a state carnival and just leaves him?”
Trent wrapped his arm around her lower back and pulled her into him. “Shit moms and worthless dads.”
Teal shook her head, made her way to the carnie, and handed him the money. The trick to the High Striker was to hit the center of the mallet square on the pad. For more control and balance, Trent held the mallet as if he were going to split wood. Lifting it over his head, he brought the mallet down in a powerful swing, striking the square pad dead center. The buzzer and lights raced up the pole and before the buzzer even rang, Trent had Teal picking out her prize.
The crowd cheered and Teal rolled her eyes as ladies fawned from a far. “Last thing you need is a head bigger than the one you got up there now.”
Trent leaned in and whispered, “I don't need them to tell me I'm the man, when I spend every night between your thighs, leaving a testament to that fact.” If Trent didn't know any better he could have sworn Teal blushed.
“We are in public!” she whispered fiercely, making her way to the kid who’d lost. He now stood beside a tent, kicking dirt clods. His eyes widened as Teal and Trent approached him.
“I ain't done nothing,” he squeaked, his eyes never left Trent.
In the softest voice he’d ever heard Teal use she said, “He won this for you.” She thrust out the little panda.
The boy’s eyes moved from Trent's gaze to what was in Teal’s hand. “Oh man. Oh man!” Big eyes met Teal’s. “Thanks, lady!” Snatching the panda, the little kid ran off.
Teal stood and watched him go. He could sense her worry for the child, and she was right to be. Children needed guidance, or else all sorts of trouble lined up for them.
As late afternoon approached, Teal had ended up with six stuffed prizes and a big smile plastered to her face. They sat down at the first available bench, as the heat had grown even more oppressive with time.
Teal put a hand on his thigh as she reminisced. “In Martinique, my mother celebrated Samedi Gras. It is a grand tradition, where the Queens, mini-Queens, and Queen-Mothers parade through Fort-de-France, showing off themed attires and costumes to the crowds. It’s colorful, full of flare and life, and the locals make delicious foods for offerings and such.”
Trent glanced around the carnival as he drank a cold beer and listened to Teal. Mathoussa held a yearly gathering to celebrate summer and Fourth of July all together, in the form of the Mathoussa County Carnival. He could only imagine the carnival Teal was talking about would be similar to Mardi Gras in the states.
He turned and propped his arm up onto the back of the bench, his interest piqued as she spoke about her past. “I thought Mardi Gras was a New Orleans thing. Martinique celebrates as well?” He didn’t know much about the celebration, other than there was fasting for Lent, then a huge after party that lasted weeks, or at least, that was his take on the subject.
Teal waved a hand at his question. “Honey, the parades in New Orleans got nothing on Carnival in Martinique.” He noted the slight Cajun accent as she spoke the carnival’s name.
“Hmmm,” the sound rumbled out if him and pulled her dark eyes to his. “Does my baby speak Créole?”
“Créole Martiniquais.” When she spoke the words his dick jumped in his pants.
“Why the fuck am I just now hearing about this?” He demanded, biting his lip to keep his longing contained.
Teal laughed. Plucking up the koala bear, she played with the leaf hanging out of his mouth. “I haven't spoken it in years.” She continued talking about the carnival, while Trent imagined fucking her as she spoke this Créole Martiniquais to him. “It’s a blend of European and African cultures from back in the colonization days. When Mount Pelee erupted and killed thousands of people in 1902, the carnival was revived in Fort-de-France and has been going strong ever since.”
“You sound wistful, like you want to go back.” Trent brushed his thumb over her brow, wiping away a bit of sweat that had accumulated there. “Maybe even visit your mother? As a matter of fact, you don’t speak about her or your family too much.”
Teal’s gaze seemed riveted on the carnival goers as they came and went, wrangling unruly children and stuffing their faces. “My mother and I don’t see eye to eye on things in my personal life, which causes friction.” She bit her lip before continuing. “She and my sister moved a few years back, we talk every now and then.”
Trent believed there was so much more to her relationship with her family—her reluctance to talk about them said as much. He leaned back, throwing an arm around her. “What sort of things can’t the two of you agree on?” He allowed his gaze to travel over the carnival again, taking in the man headed in their direction, and the woman who seemed unable to take her gaze off them.
“My mother is not the type of woman to take kindly to not following her advice.”
Trent grunted. “I see. Domineering?”
“That woman wants you.” Teal’s subject change had Trent’s eyes flying from the nosey woman, to her. “She’s been batting her lashes at you since you won that last prize.” Teal crossed her legs at her ankles and leaned into a cool breeze.
While she was pointing out some chick who meant nothing to him, he was in his own world, imagining himself balls deep inside his woman. Trent was a sexual male. Sex solved everything. Angry? Fuck. Sad? Fuck. In love? Fuck her until you don’t know where she begins and your cock ends.
But their relationship held a deeper bond than just great sex, and that was what held him to her. The need to get off wasn’t what kept him coming back. It was her innate ability to soothe him, all while calling him on his bullshit. He wanted to know everything about her—the good, the bad, and the ugly. He was halfway there, and if he had to, he’d dig his way through her past using whatever means necessary.
Trent wa
tched her as he spoke. “Will I ever get to meet your mom?”
“Will I meet your mother and sister?” she shot back in a challenge.
“If you want—I doubt you’ll want to—but you can if you’d like.” He laughed.
Once Teal met his mother, she’d likely cut tail and leave. He could see the family reunion now, with his drunken whore of a mother, and his sister, the perpetual victim. Trent sighed, thinking of what he’d be asking of her when the day came and he proposed. Who’d want to join his family? The only comfort was that Teal understood a broken family bond. In that, they had a lot in common.
“They can't be that bad.”
Had she lost her mind? “Teal, my momma used to fuck men and pretend she was pregnant. Then she’d bribe them out of money, claiming it was for an abortion.” Teal sucked in a breath. “Oh, that ain't the worst of it. She'd get the money, and instead of buying food and clothes for us, she’d gamble it away, then the cycle would start all over again. Now, I can see hustling a John for money to feed your kids. Hell, I'd do the same if I were her, but the fact is, she’d take the money and vanish for days on end.”
“Vanish? You mean she left you to fend for yourself?” Teal shook her head, disgust radiating in her eyes. “Fuck that shit, I don't want to meet her.” She lifted a brow. “Makes me wonder about the dirty little kid back there.”
Trent grunted. He didn't wonder, he knew. He had been that kid—hungry, poor, and abandoned. “I can see that being Shayla’s boy.” He regretted the words as soon as they'd left his mouth. He didn’t want to give the thought power to become reality, even though he knew the end result would definitely be another hungry, dingy kid running around unsupervised at the carnival.
Teal was silent, seemingly contemplating his words.
“And if five years from now, that's Shayla's kid,” she placed a hand on his face, “what are you going to do about it?”
Trent peered down into her dark chocolate eyes. “Do you really need to ask?” He hoped she didn't, ‘cause there was no way in hell he'd leave that child to rot with Shayla.
She simply nodded and stood. Reaching for his hand, she said, “Let’s get out of here before it gets dark.”
Trent agreed and stood. Moving behind her, he wrapped his arms around her and headed to the car.
Trent snuck out of bed, the evening light sending waning rays through the window. Reaching over, he grabbed his cell from the nightstand, and almost knocked the lamp and cup of water onto the floor.
“Fuck,” he whispered. Reaching out quickly, he righted the lamp. Turning back, he listened as Teal’s soft snoring sounded. He stood and headed out the door, allowing her snores to camouflage the sound of his feet as they slapped against the hardwood floor.
Dialing as he walked, he placed the phone to his ear and waited until Katie’s voice filled the line.
“Is she still sleeping?”
Trent peeked back into the bedroom. “Snoring her ass off.” He made his way to the living room.
“I am so glad you called. Logan pulled something similar when he and I started dating. When he was trying to get her on board with proposing to me.” The excitement in her voice forced a smile to his lips.
Trent had planned to propose after Teal had moved in with him. He wanted nothing less than for her to share his last name, to be the mother of his children and more. First, he wanted to speak with Katie about the ring. “ Yeah, he told me about that. Said he talked to your father and Teal. Said it was the most intimidating moment of his life.”
Katie laughed. “I bet. Even on good days, Teal and my father can seem rather unapproachable.”
Trent grunted in agreement. “I have an appointment with the jeweler in two hours. He reset the stone and added some engraving.”
“Good. They have video chat, right? You’ll call me so I can help you out?”
Trent nodded. While he was sure he could pick the ring alone, it meant something to have Teal’s best friend be part of the process. “Yeah, I called ahead and set it all up.” Trent’s nerves churned in his belly. He and Teal may not be ready to walk down the aisle at that very moment, but this was the path he was clearing. “The man said this happens a lot.” He plopped down on the sofa. “Is Logan there?”
“Yup, he’s out back. Let me go and get him for you.” He waited until Logan’s gruff voice came on the line.
“So, Trent Reed is getting married.”
“Whoa, slow down,” he barked out. “I am going to ask, but there’s a lot of shit going on. She needs to handle work, her condo, and some other shit. I don’t want to overwhelm her just yet.”
“You scared, brother?”
“As fuck, and you know it.” Trent rubbed the back of his neck. “This is a huge fucking step. This ain’t no taking a chick to prom.”
“No, but it’s the right choice for you, and you know it. Shit is not going to be easy, no matter how much you love her. But if you stick it out, and communicate, shit will come together.”
Trent agreed with that. Still, his nerves held him hostage. “Yeah, brother. I swear she has me by the balls and heart.”
Logan chuckled. “I heard you there. But I don’t care how pussy whipped I may seem. The happier I keep her and the more content my daughters are, the more I feel like I am being a good husband, and the father I once needed. I love her, no doubt about that, but I also want to prove to myself that I am not fucked up anymore.”
Trent took in a deep breath. He felt part to blame with Logan’s issues, and the fact he couldn’t do anything to change it, ate at him. “Just keep your head up. You know damned well you aren’t the man you were before you met her. Hell, even I know that.”
“Slowly but surely.”
Trent nodded in agreement. The sound of stirring from the other room prompted him to end the conversation. Saying their goodbyes, he stood and headed into the kitchen to pull some leftovers out of the fridge.
Over his shoulder, he watched as Teal sleepily stumbled into the room.
When she came up behind him and placed a sweet kiss on his bicep, Trent shivered. Her soft touches not only brought him physical pleasure, but also cleared his mind of the hectic thoughts plaguing him.
He noted that since she’d come into his life, he hadn't had one nightmare, or woken up in a cold sweat, and his PTSD had almost become a distant memory. Trent knew it was a serious disorder, and he didn’t believe that a person could be the cure, but he now held firmly to the belief that the right person in your life could help you weather any storm, including mental illness.
Teal opened the fridge and grabbed a bottled water. “What are you making, baby?” She clicked on the radio in the kitchen and turned it up a bit. Country music blared from the speakers.
Trent reached over and adjusted the sound. “I’m gonna use this left over barbeque to make sandwiches.” He had no clue why the woman made him buy bottled water. Trent turned on the tap. “The water from the spigot is perfectly fine, Teal.”
Teal changed the station to some smooth jazz and propped a hip on the counter. “That shit is full of microbes and shit . . . literal shit. I am not drinking that.”
Trent opened the container of barbeque. “You bathe in it.”
Teal blinked, once then twice. “Yes, but I don’t swallow it.”
Trent groaned at her choice of words, bringing up a vivid picture of Teal on her knees.
She held out a hand and backed away from Trent when he faced her. “Don’t even. I know that look, and I am still sore. Hell, I thought you were mining for ore the way you were going to town down there.” Her full lips upturned into an enchanting smile as she moved around the counter using it to shield herself from him.
Trent moved to her. “Was I too rough with you?” He hadn’t seen her limping, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t hurt her.
She maneuvered her way around the counter and took his hand. “No.” She led him back to where he was preparing the food. “You wore me out. That’s all.” She opened the Hawa
iian rolls and placed them on a plate.
But Trent wasn’t interested in food at the moment. Stepping around her, he lifted her shirt. “Damn!” he exclaimed. Her sides were covered in small oval bruises, and her ass cheek had a bite mark on it. “What the fuck, Teal?” Trent lowered her shirt as she twisted around, her dark, sensual eyes boring into him. “Why didn’t you push my big ass off you?” What the fuck had he been thinking?
Teal took an exasperated breath and stepped back. “What? You’ve never left marks on a woman after you fucked her into oblivion?”
His gaze narrowed. “I’ve left marks on you before, but—” He rubbed the back of his neck as he let loose a litany of the vilest curse words he knew. He felt as if he was drowning, and it took a second for him to realize that his face was actually soaking wet.
Through drenched eyes, he saw Teal placing her empty water bottle down on the table, as he sputtered like a damned fool. “Goddammit. What the fuck, Teal?” His bellow would have scared a stranger, but not his woman.
She placed a hand on her hip and raised a brow. “Are you done drowning?”
Trent shoved his hair from his face. “You want to tell me why you threw water in my face?”
Her intense gaze never left his as she spoke. “I am only going to tell you this one time.” She moved forward, and though Trent outweighed her by a hundred pounds, the intense look in her eyes made him take a retreating step. “You better raise the bar every time you fuck me. You had better leave your mark, one way or another, ‘cause I am sure as hell going to use my nails to write my name all over your back.”
Trent’s desire ignited and burst into flames as Teal took another step forward. Her thick thighs peeked out from her T-shirt, and her large breasts swayed with each step she took. Her nipples were so dark, he could see them through the white material. Teal’s body gave him no choice, the urge to touch was too great as he reached out and tweaked one so hard, her moan turned into a sharp gasp.
Indelible: Beneath His Ink (Teal and Trent Book 2) Page 15