Shut. Up.
She sat back and scrubbed at her face with her hands. She’d eschewed her morning run since she’d hit it hard every other morning. Her body was starting to feel the effects of the flat-out runs in a bad way.
And I am going to be forty in a couple of months.
Not that it bothered her. No midlife crisis for her. It was a pointless waste of time and energy. She would get older every year regardless of her feelings on the matter, and to wring her hands about it was useless.
After making a sandwich for lunch, she finally set her mind and went to get a shower.
What does one wear to a rope class?
Chapter Ten
There were already a couple of cars parked outside the club when Gabe pulled in thirty minutes before the class was scheduled to start.
Finally, after debating the issue back and forth for a while, she decided to lock her weapon in the small gun safe bolted to the floor of her trunk. Depending on how the class went, it might be difficult to conceal it. From the description provided on the website, it looked like students would be encouraged to try the techniques they would be taught.
If she was partnered with Bill, she didn’t want to have to make dumb excuses as to why he couldn’t tie her up.
Besides that, the club’s rules on their website specifically prohibited firearms.
Although as active law enforcement, technically she could circumvent that. Except for the fact that she was there for personal reasons, not undercover, not officially in the slightest. Meaning she was supposed to adhere to the club’s rules.
She locked the .380 in the trunk and headed inside. When she had to provide an ID and fill out paperwork, she had to stop herself from presenting her official credentials and offered up her driver’s license instead.
I need to be careful.
Maria’s voice tried to sound off in the back of her brain and Gabe shoved it away. She wanted to do something for herself for a change. Maybe it was an unusual choice over, say, something like sightseeing, or taking up a hobby, but the pictures she’d seen of intricate and artistic ropework fascinated her.
Not to mention, if she ended up gaining any official knowledge she could use in future investigations to help weed out predators from innocent people, that would be a bonus.
She certainly wasn’t looking for a man out of it. The last relationship she’d tried nearly eight years ago had lasted all of three months. When he couldn’t handle her independence, combined with what she did for a living and the sometimes unpredictable nature of her hours if she was involved in an investigation, it had almost been a relief to end things when he told her he didn’t think it was working out.
It meant she no longer had to pretend or make excuses for what or who she was. Or try to change herself to fit into the relationship.
It also meant no more trying to dodge him in the bathroom, or insisting the lights be off when they made love so he couldn’t see the scars on her back.
By the time she paid her class fee and headed through the inner door into the club proper, she was struggling against her nerves. She thought about turning around and leaving right then, except Leah spotted her and called out a greeting.
“Hi, Ella!” The woman walked over, a friendly smile on her face. “Glad you made it. Let me introduce you around.”
Gabe had no choice but to follow her over to one side of the space, where several round tables were located. Glancing over to the other side of the large space, she could see various pieces of equipment were set up, most likely used for bondage pursuits.
A dozen people or so, male and female alike, were sitting at the tables. Leah’s husband, Seth, stood talking with one of the men.
She didn’t see Bill.
He arrived a few minutes later while Leah was still making the introductions. Gabe tried to ignore the way her pulse sped up, thrumming, when she spotted him and his gaze locked with hers.
And the smile that suddenly enveloped his face.
That was a smile she suspected she could grow quite used to seeing on a regular basis. Her heart raced in an unfamiliar way. Unfamiliar, since there was no risk of an “in the line of duty” kind of death right now, which was usually the only time she felt a rush like that.
Stop it. You won’t be here more than a couple of weeks.
Still, it didn’t keep her body from reacting to him.
“Glad to see you made it,” he said by way of greeting when he walked over.
“Thanks. You, too.” She hoped that sounded more noncommittal than it had come out.
When the class started, Seth and Leah went over the basics of what they’d be covering throughout the full class series. Following that, Seth, using Leah as his model, went over safety issues, including how to evaluate the rope bottom for health or physical concerns that might affect how to tie them. Also, they covered what did and did not constitute a safe hard point for suspension, and what to look out for. Gabe appreciated the fact that they wanted people who thought they might only bottom to also be versed in safety issues to help protect them from unsafe rigging practices.
“Don’t be afraid to question your rigger,” Seth told them. “I’m not saying you have to be rude, but always speak up if you have concerns. This is your body you’re talking about. You have a responsibility to yourself first to keep safe. And never let someone rig you in a suspension tie unless you know they’ve had experience. If they want to gain experience, they need to be doing it under the supervision of someone who is experienced with suspensions, or at the very least they need to have an assistant who can help catch you in case of a fall.”
Gabe enjoyed watching the dynamic between Seth and Leah. It was easy to see how much in love they were. It practically radiated through the air between them.
“We won’t even be touching suspensions in this class series,” Seth told them. “We’ll be covering the basics, the most common ties, how to do basic restraints. The next class series will cover more advanced ties, leading to basic suspensions. If there’s enough interest, we’ll put together an artistic series where you can start widening your skills into decorative and functional ties.”
They took a brief break for everyone to have a chance to hit the bathroom, or for smokers to grab a quick one before they started on the class participation portion.
“Not a smoker?” Gabe asked Bill when he didn’t move.
He shook his head. “Nope. Never cared to try it.”
One more point in his favor.
She caught herself thinking that and tried to shove it out of her mind. Leah walked over at that moment, giving Gabe a mental respite. The woman carried a small duffel bag, which she set on the table for them.
“Here’s your loaner kit,” Leah said. “There’s more than enough rope in there to cover what we’re going to do today.”
“Thanks,” Bill said, standing to unzip the bag and peer inside. Gabe craned her neck to see, but didn’t stand. She’d finally managed to get her pulse under control. She didn’t want to have any more close contact with the man than necessary and send her heart racing again.
“I guess this won’t be anything like crochet,” Gabe muttered.
Bill smiled. “Probably not. You enjoy doing that?”
“Yeah, you could say that.” She thought back to the overflowing amigurumi menagerie back at the condo. They covered the coffee table, the entertainment center, both end tables, and had started taking over the kitchen counter. She knew she could bag them up, but didn’t have the heart to do that just yet.
She liked seeing them fill the space, their cheery colors and smiling faces lightening her mood a little bit.
It made her feel good to see them there. It made her feel less empty.
When class commenced again, the first thing Seth went over was basic techniques on how to wrap the rope around someone. He had everyone try making a basic rope gauntlet on their own arm, including all the people who were bottoms for their partners. Then it progressed to doing it to t
heir partner.
Bill, in jeans and a short-sleeved collared shirt, held out an arm to her with a smile. “You first.”
“Really?”
He shrugged. “If I’m going to learn how to do it, I definitely need to know what it feels like, right?”
Everything he said seemed to make her like him even more. He didn’t strike her as an arrogant know-it-all, like one of the men in the class, who seemed bound and determined to comment on every single thing Seth said. Gabe noticed the girl the man had brought to class with him looked increasingly uncomfortable with his behavior.
Asshat.
Bill had sat and apparently soaked up every comment, paying close attention to what Seth demonstrated to the class.
After Gabe wrapped the gauntlet around Bill’s lower arm, Seth walked over and checked her work. “Good job, Ella,” he told her. “Nice technique.” He continued on to the next couple.
Gabe blinked, a sudden wash of emotion threatening to spill over as she quickly unbound Bill’s arm.
“Are you all right?” he softly asked her.
She nodded, quickly coiling the rope as Seth had shown them and handing it off to Bill. She held out an arm. “Your turn.”
She didn’t want to admit that it was the first time since before her parents died that someone other than her boss had given her genuine praise. And that it had taken her by surprise.
And that she wanted to hear it again.
* * * *
Bill paused after taking the coil of rope from Ella, studying her features closely. It almost looked like she’d been close to tears for a moment, but he couldn’t figure out why. Seth had praised her work.
Nothing in her demeanor telegraphed domestic abuse survivor. She seemed to be a confident, steady woman. Yet there was no mistaking the way her eyes had suddenly gone too bright, or the way she coughed, quickly brushing her fingers across her face and turning away for just a moment.
He dropped his voice. “Are you sure you’re okay? Would you like a break?”
“I’m fine. Your turn.”
He would suspect she was anything but fine, although he didn’t know why. He also barely knew her and had to take her at face value.
If asked, he’d swear Seth’s praise of her work tying the gauntlet had nearly started her crying.
Taking his time, he replicated the rope gauntlet on her arm, making sure to be gentle and not get the ropes too tight. The more time he spent with her, the more time he wanted to spend with her.
The more he wanted to unravel her secrets. He was convinced she hid something beyond her true occupation. Something likely painful. She’d made no talk about family, friends, or hobbies, other than the crochet.
The next step was making a basic chest harness. Bill laughed as he stared at her. “Make sure not to wrap my man boobs too tightly.”
The comment caught her off-guard, making her laugh. “You are funny. You are far from man boob territory.” He wasn’t exactly ripped, but he knew he wasn’t fat. Then he stripped off his shirt.
No, he definitely didn’t have man boobs. He patted his stomach, which maybe had a couple of extra pounds of padding, but didn’t jiggle.
“You’re too kind,” he said. “Unfortunately, middle age is catching up with me.”
“It catches up with all of us. The alternative isn’t that great.” She realized what she said. “Sorry. That was insensitive. I—”
“No, it’s okay.” His hoped his smile echoed his words, reassuring her that she hadn’t hurt his feelings. “Believe me, it’s all right. It’s been nine years now. I’m okay. But I do appreciate the consideration, thank you.” He pointed at the rope. “Ready to get started?”
“You don’t mind me pawing at you?”
He loved the spark in her eyes. “Not at all.”
It took nearly a half hour for her to get the rope harness tied. As she worked to duplicate Seth’s example as closely as possible, Bill watched how she seemed to intently focus, as if this was more than just an exercise in tying rope.
He suspected she was like this in all areas of her life.
More than ever, he wanted to get to know her better, all sides of her, to see what drove her.
When it was his turn to tie her, he wasn’t sure how to proceed at first. Some of the women, there with their partners, didn’t hesitate to strip down to bare skin, or at least down to their bra.
While he wouldn’t have minded if Ella did the same, he wasn’t going to come off sounding like an asshole and ask her outright to do it.
Fortunately, he didn’t have to. She slipped off the short-sleeved blouse she wore over her tank top. “I’m not wearing a bra,” she said before wryly smiling. “And don’t worry about incidental contact. It won’t freak me out.”
She’s a good sport.
He started working on the chest harness, trying to keep an eye on her expression to gauge her reaction. He didn’t want to do anything to upset her. Especially when he really liked her and realized how perfect her sweet, rounded curves would fit pressed against him.
When he circled around to her back, he paused. Just under her shoulders and the nape of her neck, exposed by the way the initial turns of rope around her torso had pulled down her tank top a little, he spotted several angry scars leading down and out of sight.
“You forget what you’re trying to do?” she asked, cutting through his shock.
“No, just trying to figure out how to do it without groping you and pissing you off,” he shot back a little more sharply than he’d meant to. “I’d like to talk you into going to dinner with several of us tonight,” he quickly added. “I’m afraid if I get too fresh, you’ll say no.”
She tipped her head back to look at him. “Maybe I’ll say yes.”
* * * *
Gabe wasn’t a dummy. Now she swore for even doing this in the first place. He’d seen her scars. The look on his face told her that much. At least he’d tried to pretend he hadn’t.
And if seeing a little of them had freaked him out that much, if he saw the full extent of them he’d likely run the other way.
But he’d earned points for trying, she gave him that much credit.
“And maybe I don’t mind a little pawing,” she added. “Maybe I’d like it.”
She hoped he didn’t sense how nervous she now was, how anxious to get his attention off her back. Feel up her boobs?
If it meant he wasn’t looking at her scars, sure thing. She was plenty good with that trade-off. Besides, fair was fair. She’d gotten to paw at him a little, too, and it had taken every ounce of self-control she’d had to keep from running her fingers over his pecs. She’d never been a fan of gym rats. Bill was a real guy who had been trying to keep himself together.
To be truthful with herself, she knew she was a little rounder in the ass and thicker in the hips and thighs than she wished she was, but she wasn’t in the army anymore with daily PT to endure. She spent too many hours a day in a chair behind her desk, or in a car, and eating food that wasn’t necessarily the best for her.
“So, is that a yes?” he asked.
“To what?”
He smiled. There was something simultaneously sad and sinful about it. “Dinner. Tonight. Not just the two of us, but several others. They go out every Saturday. You met most of them at the munch.”
Baaaad idea.
“Sure,” she said, shoving the voice away. “Why not?”
Chapter Eleven
In her mind, Gabe changed her decision to go to dinner at least a dozen times between walking from the club out to her car. She didn’t want to be rude and suddenly tell everyone no, she didn’t want to go to dinner with them.
Especially when she did want to go to dinner with Bill.
Going out to eat like this, twice in the space of a week, with a group of people she didn’t work with, was a record for her life.
She liked that when she asked if he minded if she drove her car, he didn’t argue or try to get her to change her mind. He di
dn’t appear to be put out in the slightest by the request. He also didn’t assume he was invited to ride with her.
She liked that, too.
After getting the address for the restaurant in case she got separated from the rest of them, it took a massive amount of willpower on her part not to turn off on a side street and make a dash for freedom. Beating deep inside her heart, a determination to see the evening through to a natural conclusion and not running like a coward.
Yes, all right, fine. I want to prove Travis wrong. I can relax and meet people and enjoy myself.
She also wanted to disprove the annoying voice in her mind. The one that sounded like Maria and comprised all her doubts and self-recriminations.
She wanted to make sure she wasn’t the one who was wrong. That Travis Walker and the voice were the ones off-base.
Unfortunately, deep inside, she suspected that wasn’t what she’d discover.
Bill had pulled into the parking lot ahead of her and met her at her car. When he offered her his arm, she felt a pleasant little thrill as she hooked her arm through his.
Although it meant she didn’t have a chance to retrieve her gun from the lockbox in the trunk.
Oh, excuse me while I get my sidearm, k tks bai.
Yeah, like that would go over well. It would also entail her trying to come up with an explanation for having a permanently mounted gun safe in her trunk. It wasn’t like everyone had one of those. Or a bullet-proof vest. Or a rain jacket with FDLE emblazoned on the back.
It would mean either flat-out lying to him, or revealing her true identity, and neither option was one she liked at the moment.
The restaurant appeared to be in a nice area, and they would be with a group of people. The chances of her being involved in a civilian situation right now, where she would actually need a firearm, were probably as close to zero as she could statistically get.
I guess it stays.
Gabe walked into the restaurant on Bill’s arm. She felt slightly uncomfortable as the momentary center of attention while Bill introduced everyone at the table. Most everyone there she’d met or at least seen at the munch. They appeared welcoming, genuinely happy to have her join them.
Broken Toy Page 8