by A. J. Downey
“Devon Arlyna Lanham, now I know you did not just come into my house tellin’ me who I could and could not have in it as a guest. In front of said guest, no less!”
“Mamma – “
“Don’t you ‘Mamma’ me, girl! I know I raised you better than that! Now you apologize to that man and introduce yourself proper, or you can leave.” Martha looked past her older daughter to her son-in-law.
“Sorry about that, Richard.”
“It’s all good, Mamma Marcie,” Richard choked out, trying not to laugh, and his laughter withered under the look his wife gave him.
“If y’all don’t mind,” I said, “I’ve really got to use the restroom. Uh, Marcie, where would that be?”
“Down the hall, second door on the left, sweetheart,” Marcie said, still staring her eldest daughter and her husband down, her gaze still hard with warning. I could tell she was pissed and I was stayin’ out of it.
“Wish I’d thought of that first,” Dylan muttered out of the side of her mouth as I passed her and I chuckled.
By the time I got done doin’ my business, washin’ my hands with the nice little soaps Marcie had out, and dryin’ ‘em thoroughly on the matching little hand towel on the towel ring by the sink, her sharp words had settled some and it’d gone quiet in the kitchen. I waited a few heartbeats extra, just to be sure all was well, before I went back out.
Rich, the son-in-law, was in the living room in one of the two wingback chairs, facin’ the television over the fireplace. He had his feet up and looked up when I passed by the archway from the living room to the kitchen. He gave me a nod, his expression curious, and I could see some of them law-enforcement wheels turnin’ in his head.
I smiled to myself and went over by Marcie and leaned my butt up against the counter while she melted some shortening in a cast iron skillet. Her girls eyed us warily from the dining room where they set the table.
“Everythin’ alright?” I asked, low.
Marcie forced a smile around her simmering anger and said, “Peachy keen, why don’t you and Rich find somethin’ to watch on TV?”
“Well, that’s a ‘get the hell out my kitchen’ if I ever heard one.”
She wrinkled her nose cutely and grinned impishly, and I chuckled and did as the woman asked. Her oldest put her hands on my colors as if to move ‘em and I froze.
“If’n you don’t mind, them there are somethin’ sacred to the likes of us… no pun intended. You’d like ‘em moved, I’m happy to move ‘em for you, but in our culture the only one to touch ‘em should be me, one of my brothers, or my ol’ lady.” I tried to keep my tone gentle. I didn’t want her to feel like I was snappin’ at her.
She took her hands away and said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”
“It’s all good, darlin’. I know you didn’t. Would you like me to move ‘em?”
“Yes, please.”
“That I can do.” I went over and picked up my jacket and cut and draped them over my arm. I took them into the living room with me and laid ‘em over the arm of the couch, before taking the other wingback chair facing the television.
“You a big sports guy, Mr. Dragon?” Rich asked.
“Can’t say that I am,” I said.
“Oh, yeah? What do you like to watch?”
“The science channel, history channel, mostly.”
“No shit?” he asked, surprised. “You into those war documentaries?”
“Sometimes. Been watching a lot about the Vikings lately.”
“You like that show, Vikings?”
“Y’know, I didn’t think I would, but I caught an episode when it first started up back when and I really did enjoy it…”
Turns out, Rich and I had some real genuine interest in some of the same shows. The common ground helped some, and was a good way to break the ice. Maybe this whole ‘meetin’ the family’ thing wasn’t gonna be as disastrous as I’d thought it might be.
14
Marcie…
“All I’m sayin’ is it’s not real fair. I gotta do somethin’,” I told him. He laughed at me and I smiled real big.
We were supposed to be leavin’ in the mornin’ for this weekend away he had planned and he’d come clean and told me it was their annual Spring Lake Run, whatever that was. I’d had questions, and he’d patiently answered every one of ‘em for me, late into last night. I’d spent all day today baking up a bunch of my apple pies special.
“Sugar, we can’t take a bunch of pies on the bike,” he said kindly.
“I know that! Don’t be silly. You said there was a repair truck and cars with the kids, didn’t you?”
“I do believe I did.”
“Well, all right, then. I’ll pack these up in my car and bring ‘em over in the mornin’. No need to pick me up.”
He laughed again and said, “Okay, all right. You know how to get here?”
“No, but my phone does. Just text me the address!”
“How ’bout comin’ tonight?” he asked.
“Well, why not? I’ve already got a bag packed, and these pies’ll keep, if you got a ’fridgerator there.”
“Oh, we got fridges. You, uh, wanna stay the night, maybe?”
I smiled and said, “You bet your ass, I do.”
“Well then, come on down, Ms. Marcie.”
“I’ll see you soon.”
“All right then, just do me a favor. If you’re gonna be gone for days at a time, lock yer damn door.”
I chuckled and said, “Yes, Daddy.” I could hear him cringe on the other end of the line and it made me like to laugh my head off. I hung up before he could say anything else, excited to see him, and knowin’ if he kept me on the phone I’d like to never get out of here.
I opened up the back of my car and ferried the eight pies I’d made, in the big ol’ box I had ‘em in, out there first. Then, I quickly threw what I’d planned on wearin’ tomorrow into the top of my overnight bag and brought it out there. I did what he asked, locked up my kitchen door, and turned for the car.
“Dammit to hell!” I cursed. I put the overnight bag in the back and shut the door before going back into my house for my damn purse. I re-locked everything tight and got behind the wheel.
I got my phone to workin’ and tellin’ me where to go, put it up on the mount for it, and my excitement damn near bubbling over, got underway, headed to where the lady in my phone told me to.
The driveway was steep, and right off the highway. I almost missed it. It had a spikey, almost imposing wrought iron fence around the whole property, but once I was up into the parking lot, things smoothed out and looked much more welcoming. Especially since Dragon was standing out front by the line of motorcycles, waitin’ for me.
He sucked down a last drag off his cigarette and flicked it into the gravel and walked out to meet me. I stopped and he blew out the smoke before getting to my window, which glided down smoothly with the flick of a switch.
“Hi there,” I said shyly. I had a hard time believin’ someone as handsome as he was could be interested in me, but somehow, here we were.
“Hey, sugar.” He gripped the edge of my window and put his head inside the car, pressing his mouth to mine. My eyes drifted shut and even though he tasted like tobacco smoke, I didn’t care. I kissed him back and the stress of the day just sort of melted off of me. He smiled against my mouth, my lips curving to echo his and leaned back.
“Got anything you want me to take in?” he asked.
“Just the pies.”
“Sure, gimme just a sec.” He leaned back and let out a piercing whistle. A man came out the front door of the building, grinning, and stepped out from under the porch-like shingled awning over the door into the dying daylight .
“Sup, D?”
“Yeah, Reave, you mind takin’ this box of pies in the club?”
“Sure thing, they up for grabs, or they for the Lake Run?”
“What the hell d’you think?” Dragon asked, laughing.
“Aww,
dammit! I had to try. What’s up, Marcie, how you doing?” he asked.
I smiled up into sparkling blue eyes like a huskie’s and said, “Oh, I’m fine. How’re you?”
“Good!” He went to the back of my car and I hit the button for the locks.
“Want the bag, too?” he called.
“I’ll get that,” Dragon said.
“Cool, see you inside.”
Reaver hefted the big cardboard box and yelled “Somebody get the door, Marcie made us pie!”
I laughed and a big man with long blonde hair stepped out and held the door for Reaver who said, “Thanks, my man!”
“You good, D? Anything else?”
“All good, thanks, Trig.”
“Ma’am,” Trig gave me a nod. I smiled and gave him a little wave.
“Why don’t you go on and pull up where there’s space over there.”
“You got it.”
I pulled in where he indicated and shut off my car. He pulled my bag out of the back and closed the hatch while I got my phone and my purse and what-have-you all together.
I got out of the car and he backed me up against the side of it, his mouth finding mine once again.
“Well, I can tell you’re happy to see me,” I murmured, and he pressed himself against me fully. Oh my, he was very happy to see me.
“I think I may have missed you, Sugar.”
I smiled and kissed him one more time.
“I missed you, too,” I whispered into his mouth.
“Mm, let’s get inside, get the meet ‘n greet over with, so I can have you to m’self.”
“I like the sound of that,” I said softly.
“I suspected you might,” he replied with a slow, sexy grin and a wink.
We went to the door hand-in-hand and it opened up before we got to it, the big blond man holding it for us as we slipped past his large frame into the dimly-lit interior of what looked like a bar.
I looked around carefully, smiling half-charmed. It was nice in here. Clearly, Dragon and his men had spent time and care in putting this place together. From the polished bartop, to the bottles lined up in front of a stained glass window with the club’s logo done in bits of mosaic glass adhered together by some magic and backlit with a warm light.
The furniture had been made sturdy, the tables and chairs having the same touch to them as the outdoor loungers we’d sat in on Dragon’s niece’s racehorse farm. Dragon glowed with pride at the expression on my face as I took it all in.
“Y’all have done real nice in here,” I said admiringly.
“It was a work--in-progress for the longest time, but yeah. It finally came together,” the big blond man said. He smiled and held out a hand. “I’m Trigger.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Trigger.”
“That there is my ol’ lady, Sunshine.”
A soft voice from behind the bar said, “Hi.”
I turned around to see her, another woman, and Reaver come out of the doorway leading back to what looked like an industrial kitchen.
“I’m Reaver, and this is my Doll,” he said.
“Hi.” The other woman curled her fingers in a wave, her dark hair brushing her shoulders in what was clearly an in-between phase of growing it out. I smiled at her warmly and said, “Hello. I’m Marcie.”
“Pleasure to finally meet you, Marcie,” Sunshine said.
Dragon gently took my elbow and said, “If y’all don’t mind, I’m going to take Marcie back and get her settled in for tonight.”
“No, go ahead.”
“Not at all,” the responses came.
I blushed and said, “I guess we’ll see y’all later.”
Chuckles and giggles chorused, and Dragon pointed past a bay of curtained windows, past the end of the bar on the opposite side, to a cavernous hall beyond. I went the way he indicated, curious as to what was behind the curtains inside those windows.
I didn’t ask, I figured if I was meant to, I’d find out. There was a sort of hub just past that fishbowl, several doors set in the walls around us, most marked ‘Restroom’, and two halls, one leading off to the left and one leading straight back. He stopped and pointed to the doors.
“Bathroom and bathroom. That there,” he indicated a pair of lovely double doors, “leads into the media room. Got a bunch of seating, movies, and a big screen TV.” He indicated the hall leading straight back and said, “That there leads out back to the fire-pit, the door on the left is Doc’s room, the one on the right is storage. My room is down this way.” He led me down the hall to the left where there was another bank of windows off to the right, the curtains in here drawn back, a big table that also had to be Rush’s work inside.
“Just finished this part. There were some more club rooms for members along here. They moved to the outbuilding we finished out back to make way for a more secure chapel so we could hold church while the girls and the kids moved around. My room’s right here, the opposite side. Here we go.” He opened a door and switched on a light.
“Did some cleanin’ up,” he said. “Didn’t think you’d be about that bachelor life.”
“Oh!” I waved him off. “Seems like Rush has been a busy man,” I declared.
Dragon grinned.
“Yeah, he’s a machine, that one. Kitted out the whole club, everyone’s rooms, and he still has enough to sell original furniture pieces online.”
“Impressive,” I murmured, running a fingertip along one of the live-edge shelves, letting my eyes wander the spines of the books housed there.
Dragon chuckled. “I figured that’d be the first place you went.”
“You’ve an impressive library,” I remarked. I needed my glasses to read some titles, but others stood out just fine.
He set my old-style carpet bag gently on the floor near an old black leather recliner and pulled the chain on the reading lamp that arched over it. The dimly-lit room was suddenly much better. I smiled and he went quietly to the door and eased it closed. Suddenly, it was just us.
“It’s nice in here,” I said, softly.
“It’s just me an’ Doc that live here full time,” he said.
I raised my eyebrows.
“You live here!” I exclaimed, surprised.
He gave a single nod. “Goin’ on a couple a years now. I turned mine and Tilly’s house over to my boy, Dray, when Everett moved in. They needed a place of their own and it was only a little two-bedroom.”
“Sounds cozy,” I murmured.
He was stalking towards me, the sound of his boots muffled by the thick dark carpet.
“It was,” he said. “But I like it here…” He pulled himself close, his hands sliding over my hips and along my lower back, one hand dipping lower to caress my ass. I swallowed hard, my body giving a throb of wanting I hadn’t felt in a real long time.
“It’s been a long time,” I murmured, laughing a bit nervously. “I’m not real sure I remember how…”
“You ain’t gotta do a thing, Sugar. I’m happy to do all the work,” he said, his voice low in a sexy husky purr.
Oh, Lord have mercy! I am on board, yeee-haw! I thought, but his mouth was already gently tasting mine, my bottom lip lightly captured between his teeth. My arms had somehow made their way around his shoulders without me realizing it, and things were just naturally heating up, progressing from there.
I couldn’t remember a time I’d ever been so turned on by a man, and it was kind of embarrassing to even admit that to m’self, having been married and with two beautiful daughters to show for it.
His lips lingered against mine, then moved to the side of my neck as he pulled me in close and I let my eyes drift shut, enjoying the closeness for just a moment before I let my damn nerves ruin everything…
“Wait, slow down,” I murmured, and immediately felt defeat edged in regret.
“Not used to slow,” he growled against my throat and I let my eyes slip shut again.
“And I ain’t used to going so fast,” I argued.
He stopped and drew back just enough to look at me, and when he did, he really looked at me. I felt like he saw me, and at the same time, saw right through me. His fingertips were gentle where they touched my cheek and he asked me, “What’s really going on?”
I searched his face, trying to come up with anything but the truth because it was so stupid.
“Guilt, I think,” I said, finally.
“Guilt?”
I sighed and took a short step back, nodding.
“Talk to me,” he ordered gently, and I could tell I wasn’t going anywhere until I came clean. In an echo of my thoughts, he said, “Ain’t goin’ nowhere until we have this talk, Marcie. What is it? What reason would you have to feel guilty?”
“Several, actually, and all of ‘em are pretty stupid.”
He chuckled and moved over to his recliner, dropping into it. I lowered myself onto the edge of the bed, facing him. There really wasn’t anyplace else left to go.
“You’re divorced, ain’t yah?” he asked.
“Yes,” I nodded.
“Still love him?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said with a sigh, and all of those bleak feelings came rushing back.
“What happened?” he asked.
I swallowed hard.
“At first, it was work, then he’d rather be watching football, and then it was going out with the boys, and then, and then, and then… Eventually, it came down to it, he just weren’t never home and even when he was, it was like he wasn’t with me.”
Dragon grunted and a somewhat pained look flashed in those dark eyes of his. He nodded and said, “Shift a woman to the back burner often enough, long enough, don’t pay no mind to her and eventually she burns, just like anything else.”
He was right. At first I’d cried. Then I’d twisted inside and become black and bitter. I hated myself, loathed the way I looked in my husband’s eyes. I’d tried everything to fix myself for him… changed my hair, which he’d hated, lost weight, exercised more, even had considered surgery, but it was when I’d found another woman’s lipstick on his collar that I realized the problem might not be with me.