Rock Chick Reckoning

by Ashley, Kristen

  “I know that,” I shot back.

  “Then what’s your problem?” Ally enquired.

  My body got tight. “What’s your problem?” I asked back. “You’ve been in a bad mood all day. You upset Stella!”

  “Well, excuse me. But I’m beginning to understand where Shirleen is coming from with all this shit. My brothers and my friends got a load of shit on their plate on a regular basis, mind you. They don’t need Rock Chick shit thrown at them all the time. It’s getting ridiculous.”

  “Just you wait until it’s your turn, Ally Nightingale,” Ava, being a Rock Chick, went on the defensive.

  “It isn’t going to happen to me. No fuckin’ way,” Ally retorted.

  “What makes you so sure?” I asked.

  “Because there’s only one left, not including Darius, who doesn’t fuck white women and who’s like a brother to me,” Ally answered. “And nothing is gonna happen between me and Hector, ‘cause I’ve known him since we were kids. He’s like a cousin or something.”

  “So, what you’re really saying is,” Jet came up to our huddle and entered the conversation, “that you’re pissed off you aren’t gonna get your shot at a Hot Bunch guy.”

  I smiled at Ava and Ava smiled back.

  Ally turned angry eyes to Jet. “No, what I’m saying is, I wouldn’t get myself into a shitload of trouble. And, if I did, I’d take care of my own business. I wouldn’t let some guy stick his nose into said business. I wouldn’t put up with that shit for a second. Some fuckin’ macho badass telling me what to do and fucking with my life and my head. I wouldn’t play those games. Some guy tried to do that to me, I’d put an end to it, pronto.”

  I couldn’t help myself, I laughed. So did Jet. So did Ava.

  “Seriously, chickies, not gonna happen,” Ally said into our laughter.

  “I cannot wait for some guy to rip into your life and make you eat those words,” Ava told Ally.

  “Not gonna happen,” Ally repeated.

  “You are so going down,” I said to Ally.

  Ally turned to me and snapped, “Can we stop talking about this?”

  “Sure,” I replied breezily.

  “Who do you think it’ll be?” Jet asked Ava.

  “We’re not talking about this anymore,” Ally reminded Jet.

  “That Eric guy is hot,” Ava remarked to Jet.

  “Fuck you,” Ally said to Ava and stomped toward the espresso counter. We watched as she stopped halfway there, saw Uncle Tex grinning at her like a loon then she turned on her heel and stomped into the books.

  We all looked at each other and burst into laughter.

  We didn’t have time to enjoy our hilarity. The bell over the door went and Tod stormed in, eyes wild.

  I didn’t have to guess why Tod looked wild. He was Indy’s officially unofficial wedding planner and it was T-minus five and a half days to nuptial takeoff. Because of this, Tod was clearly in a state.

  “Do you think, because you’re all the possible targets for murder and mayhem, that you can get out of this wedding business?” he screeched upon entry just as Stella, Daisy and Indy came back up front. Tod’s eyes narrowed on Indy and he went on screeching, “Girlie, there’s shit to do!”

  “I know, Tod, calm down,” Indy replied.

  Tod threw up his hands. “Calm down? I will not calm down! We need to confirm numbers with the catering company. We need to finalize seating arrangements. We need to box and bow the handmade truffles for wedding gifts. Somebody needs to learn calligraphy in, like, an hour so we can handwrite the place cards.”

  “I thought we decided I was going to do them on my computer?” Ava, unwisely, put in.

  “You decided, I did not decide. Place cards need to be handwritten! Everyone knows that!” Tod shrieked.

  The door opened again, the bell ringing over it, Annette came in and shouted, “Yo bitches! Anyone get kidnapped or shot at today?”

  Before anyone could answer, Tod turned to Annette and snapped, “What’re you wearing to the wedding?”

  Annette’s head jerked in response to his attitude slapping her in the face upon entry and replied, “Don’t know, Toddie Hottie. I figure I’ll smoke a doobie and it’ll come to me.”

  Tod’s face got red and I feared his entire head would explode.

  “You come to Indy’s wedding stoned, I’ll shoot you,” Tod threatened.

  “Dude, I only do weddings stoned. It’s the only way to go. Weddings are boring. Snooze-a-rama,” Annette shot back then turned to Indy. “No offense.”

  “None taken,” Indy smiled.

  Tod gave up on Annette and turned his glare back to Indy.

  “We need a Full Wedding Briefing. Now,” Tod declared. “Somebody call a Hot Bunch escort. We’re all convening at Indy and Lee’s in half an hour.”

  “Excuse me but Jet, Ally and Indy are working. We got a breather but any second we could get a crowd,” Tex threw in.

  “Who cares!” Tod shouted back. “Weddings take precedence over all.”

  “Not when sellin’ boatloads of coffee pays for ‘em, motherfucker,” Tex boomed in return.

  “Don’t call me motherfucker,” Tod threw down.

  “Motherfucker,” Uncle Tex boomed.

  “Oh lordy,” Daisy muttered.

  “Okay, before there’s bloodshed, I just wanna make sure you’re all comin’ to my store opening tomorrow night,” Annette put in. “You gotta come. We’re gonna have crackers and that squirtable cheese stuff and everything.”

  Unimpressed by squirtable cheese, Tod informed Annette, “No one is going to your opening. Not unless every single response card has been counted, the caterers have been called, we know where every ass is seated at the reception and those places have handwritten place cards and boxed and bowed truffles on their goddamned plates,” Tod snapped then pointed at Indy. “Thirty minutes. Your house.”

  Then he was gone.

  “Oh dear,” Stella breathed.

  “Divide and conquer,” Daisy charged in. “Indy, call Lee. Tell him we need an escort. Jet and Ava stay here, see to business. I’ll call Jules, tell her to bring May as soon as they’re done at work. Indy, Ally, Roxie, Stella, Annette and me’ll go to Indy’s place and get Tod sorted out.” Daisy turned to Annette. “And we wouldn’t miss your opening for the world, sugar.”

  “Phat,” Annette smiled.

  Daisy’s gaze moved to Stella. “We’ll talk about rescheduling with Dixon Jones at Indy’s. He was cool about you missin’ the meetin’ seein’ as you were kidnapped and all but we don’t want that lead to go cold.”

  Stella’s eyes slid sideways to Indy who reached out and gave Stella’s hand squeeze.

  “Let’s get crackin’!” Daisy finished.

  I’d spent the afternoon boxing and bowing truffles and arguing with Tod over seating arrangements.

  Stella spent the afternoon alternately arguing with Daisy and Shirleen (via the phone) about Dixon Jones.

  A little after five, Jules and May arrived to help.

  Around six, Roam and Sniff (two of Jules’s runaways from the Shelter who’d moved in with Shirleen after Jules’s drama was over) showed up with three big Famous pizza boxes.

  At about seven, Shirleen arrived with a guitar case in each hand and announced that Roam and Sniff were now officially getting guitar lessons from Stella.

  Until around eight, Stella and the boys were upstairs in Indy’s TV room and we heard them plunking away at the guitars.

  At eight thirty, Vance showed up to escort us all home.

  We had, however, managed to get all the wedding work done and have a Wedding Briefing (going over every last detail) before Vance showed up.

  Throughout the evening, I’d checked in with Hank a couple of times and then, restless and, hoping writing a few letters would settle my mind (and my heart), I’d tried it.

  It didn’t work.

  Now it was after eleven o’clock and I was wired.

  I heard the front door open and my bod
y jerked at the noise. I grabbed my stationery, tossed it and my pen on the coffee table and headed toward the front of the house as I heard Hank give a whistle.

  He had Shamus’s lead in his hand when I rounded the door to the kitchen and his gaze came to me.

  Upon seeing me, his eyes warmed with a smile.

  “Hey, sweetheart,” he said like he normally said every day if I was awake when he got home.

  “Hey, Whisky,” I replied like I normally replied every day if I was awake when he got home.

  When I moved in with him, I thought I might have trouble falling into anything normal. I thought my ex, the crazy Billy, would have ruined me for normal. A normal routine. A normal relationship. A normal life with a normal (but hot) guy in a normal neighborhood with a normal dog. I thought that kind of normal would be lost to me forever.

  But normal with Hank wasn’t your average kind of normal.

  It was the extraordinary kind.

  And I took to it, no problems.

  He came to me, curled an arm around my waist, leaned down and kissed my temple but when he was done with his kiss, he left his lips where they were.

  “How was your day?” I asked softly, my face tilted up, my eyes open and looking at his dark hair curling into the back of his strong neck. I decided I should remind him he needed to make an appointment to get a haircut, especially right before his brother’s wedding but I wasn’t going to. Hank had great hair, soft, thick and wavy and I liked it a shade too long (I liked it a lot).

  “Over,” he replied and gave my waist a squeeze. “Takin’ Shamus out,” he murmured against my temple before giving me another kiss. “I’ll meet you in bed.”

  I nodded, feeling my stomach melt, my head sliding against his jaw. He stepped away, hooked the leash on the quivering with pre-walk ecstasy Shamus and they were gone.

  I washed and moisturized my face, put my hair up in a messy knot on top of my head, put on a stretchy, pale pink, lace nightie, got in bed and waited.

  Incidentally, I was still wired.

  I heard the door open again and then Shamus’s nails on the wood floors in the front room then through to the kitchen. There was silence for a few beats as Shamus hit the carpet in the television room before he rounded the door to the bedroom. He burst through, galloping toward the bed. He jumped up and came at me, licking my face while he got an ear rub.

  This, too (if I wasn’t in on the walk), was normal.

  Hank followed much more slowly.

  “Shamus,” Hank said low and Shamus backed off, started to roam the bed (even though he had to know the lay of the land by heart since he roamed it nightly) and then he laid down at the foot facing Hank and he panted.

  “Hank…” I started then stopped.

  For the first time in months with Hank, I didn’t know what to do.

  You didn’t just blurt out you loved someone for no reason.

  Well, you did, but you didn’t.

  Good God.

  “Yeah?” Hank asked, yanking off his tee.

  “Um…” I hedged then said, “You wanted me to be up?”

  He dropped the tee to the floor and sat at the edge of the bed to pull off his boots.

  “Yeah,” he replied.

  “Why?”

  He dropped one boot and went after the other, back still to me, he answered, “Felt like fucking you.”

  All the breath went out of my lungs.

  Over the months of living together, Hank and I’d had a lot of sex. That had never been normal, it had always been extraordinary and that had never changed.

  What wasn’t normal was Hank making me stay awake in order to do it.

  “You don’t normally have any problem waking me up if you’re in the mood,” I reminded him.

  He’d already taken off his other boot and socks and now he stood, turned to face me and went after his belt. This gave me a full on view of Hank’s chest which was my favorite part of his body. If you didn’t count his eyes. And his lips. And, um, other parts.

  “Want you awake and alert tonight, Sunshine,” he said before he grinned.

  “Why?”

  He didn’t answer, instead he said softly, “Take off your nightie, Roxie.”

  I felt my body tremble but other than that I didn’t move.

  I was feeling weird. It was a good weird, a scary weird, an expectant weird.

  “Why do you want me awake and alert tonight?” I repeated.

  “Roxanne. Take off your nightie.”

  “Hank –”

  “Do it,” he ordered then he dropped his jeans.

  I got a good look at some of the other parts of his body that were my favorite, one in particular, and I took off my nightie.

  He watched me do this.

  Then he moved.

  * * * * *

  I was straddling Hank, knees in the bed, my head thrown back, Hank deep inside me, his face pressed in my throat, his hands moving up my back.

  I slid up then down and I tilted my chin to look at him.

  His head went back; I put my mouth on his and kissed him.

  He kissed me back, tongues tangling, his hands went to my hips and he moved me up. My mouth disengaged then his fingers dug in and he slammed me back down.

  It felt so damned good, with my lips against his, I gave a soft moan.

  Now was definitely the time.

  I ground my hips into his and flexed certain, secret muscles and I felt his soft groan.

  “I love you,” I whispered.

  His fingers tensed at my hips and his eyes caught mine.

  “Glad to hear you say that, Sunshine,” he whispered back.

  I smiled.

  He fell to his back, arms around me, taking me with him.

  Then, keeping us connected, he twisted us to the side, opened the drawer on his nightstand and pulled out a dark blue, velvet box.

  I stared at the box, my body going tight, as his thumb flicked it open and I caught sight of the diamond before he shoved his index finger in, pulling the ring out of the blue silk.

  He tossed the box to the nightstand, sat back up, still keeping us connected, his right hand skimmed down my left arm, captured my hand, positioned it and he slid the ring on my finger.

  I sat frozen, staring at the diamond solitaire on my finger.

  It wasn’t huge, it wasn’t small.

  It was a normal, diamond engagement ring.

  It was just right.

  “If you let Tod plan our wedding, I’m takin’ that back,” Hank told me and my eyes flashed to his.

  I stared at him, one beat, two then three then whispered, feeling the tears sting the backs of my eyes, “You’re never getting this back.”

  I watched him smile right before he kissed me.

  Then he rolled me to my back and he finished what we started.

  When we were done and recovered, he slid off to my side but wrapped an arm around my belly, threw a thigh over mine and nuzzled his face into the side of my head.

  Shamus, who’d exited the bed when the fun began, returned, did a little roaming then settled where he always settled, down my length, the opposite side to Hank.

  Both the canine and human Nightingale boys, like they normally did, pinned me down.

  I flicked my thumb against the base of my ring finger, making sure I didn’t imagine it.

  I felt cold, solid, honest-to-goodness gold.

  I didn’t imagine it.

  I turned my head to the side, found Hank’s mouth with mine and smiled.

  “Happy?” Hank muttered against my lips.

  I didn’t answer verbally, I nodded.

  He gave me a light kiss.

  I felt the tears I hadn’t shed earlier slide out of my eyes.

  So did Hank.

  “Jesus, you’re a nut,” Hank mumbled, his arm going tighter.

  “Don’t call me a nut,” I whispered, my voice sounding scratchy.

  “Sorry Sunshine, you’re a nut,” he replied. “But that’s a good thing.”
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  I decided to ignore that. Hank called me a nut nearly every day.

  And, for some insane reason, he did think it was a good thing.

  “I need to call my Mom,” I told him.

  “It’s two o’clock in the morning in Indiana,” he reminded me.

  “Trust me, Hank, she won’t care.”

  And she wouldn’t.

  Trish Logan would be over the moon.

  Trish Logan would call an emergency church meeting so the whole congregation could praise the Lord that her daughter, Roxanne Giselle, had finally landed herself a good, decent, honest man.

  “Call her in the morning,” Hank demanded.

  “Whisky –”

  His arm got super tight. “Roxanne, call her in the morning,” he repeated. “Tonight is yours and mine.”

  I sucked in breath.

  Then I said, “Okay.”

  He turned my body to face his, lifted his head and buried it in my neck.

  I wrapped my arms around him and held on tight.

  Shamus got the hint and exited the bed.

  Chapter Seventeen

  We’re Good

  Stella

  I was drifting back and forth between awake and asleep.

  In my waking moments I was visualizing my bank balance and wondering how much I could afford to send home to Mom and Dad (the answer I came up with… not much).

  In my sleeping moments, I was dreaming of flying truffles, exploding confetti, Dixon Jones laughing maniacally, Preston Mason showing me a picture book with gruesome caricatures of murders in it and Mace’s face filled with pain.

  I came fully awake when I heard the scrape of a key in the door.

  Juno’s body jerked, confirming I wasn’t hearing things. I felt her come up to her belly. As she was at the foot of the bed, I couldn’t see her but I figured her head was up, facing the door, ears perked.

  I assessed my situation which was pretty much effed. I’d fallen in bed then into a fitful sleep without the phone close by. I had no weapons and I wouldn’t know how to use one anyway. The house was on a huge plot, no other houses close by and Swen and Ulrika were on vacation.

  No one would hear me scream.

  The alarm beeped when the door was opened. Juno moved again, the bed shaking with her bulk and she jumped down.

  My body was rigid with fear as I listened in terrified confusion to buttons being pressed and the beeping stopped.