Lady Luck

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Lady Luck Page 14

by Kristen Ashley


  Ty had gone solid in front of me and I automatically stepped to his side. When I did, I didn’t take in the interior of his house but instead all I could see were a bunch of people, a bunch of balloons, a bunch of streamers and two huge banners. One had stars printed on it around the words, “Welcome home” and the other one had a profusion of two facing doves with linking wedding bands at their beaks printed on it with the word, “Congratulations!”

  This was all I took in before a tall, extremely well-built, freakishly attractive man wearing a shit-eating grin approached Ty, took his hand and shook it while moving in to give him a back-pounding man hug. At the same time a gorgeous blonde woman with legs nearly as long as mine came right up to me, pulled me into a tight hug and said in my ear, “So nice to meet you, Lexie. I’m Laurie. Welcome home.”

  Welcome home.

  A shiver slid over my skin, a shiver the likes I’d never felt but I knew instinctively it was not a bad one.

  And thus it began. I was divested of my bags as Ty got hugs and handshakes, I got hugs and cheek kisses. I met Tate, the freakishly good-looking man, Laurie was his wife (of course), Maggie, a pretty, petite brunette, Wood, another freakishly good-looking man with black hair and a goatee, Bubba, a man nearly as huge as Ty (but not as solid) with light brown hair and a good ole boy smile, Krystal, a petite, busty woman in a tight tank top with flaming red hair and assessing eyes, Pop, an older man with a beer gut and a gray beard, Stella, a full on biker babe with dark hair highlighted with streaks of blonde, Deke, a blond mountain of a man who was as solid as Ty and even scarier, Jim-Billy, another older man wearing a beat up baseball cap and a broken smile, broken because he was missing a tooth, Ned and Betty, an upper middle-aged married couple who approached me together declaring they were a unit and they liked it that way, Jonas, a handsome boy being thus seeing as he was Tate’s son who was, I guessed, twelve, maybe thirteen and, rounding out the pack, Maggie and Wood’s two kids, a pretty little girl named Addison and a cute little boy named Noah.

  After the introductions I realized we were in a kitchen, a big one and a modern one. Then I realized it seemed like a big one because it was, but also because the entire floor of the house was open plan the kitchen feeding into a huge living room that had floor to ceiling windows at the end with a view to a large, jutting front deck and the panorama beyond. There was a massive island on which were big bowls of chips, smaller bowls of dips, platters of fried chicken, bowls of coleslaw, mountains of mashed potatoes, gravy boats of gravy, stacks of baby blue paper plates decorated in white doves like on the banner, the wedding rings on the plates silver, matching napkins, cups filled with blue plastic cutlery, several small vases filled with flowers here and there and in the middle was a delicious-looking homemade cake that had a plastic, traditional wedding top bride and groom stuck in the middle of it.

  I was led to the island sandwiched between Maggie and Laurie and I heard the door to the fridge open as there was chatter and laughter all around. The hiss of beer caps snapping off filled the air and I found one in my hand. My eyes went to Ty who was opposite the island from me and I watched Wood shove a beer into his hand while grinning.

  Ty’s head started to turn in my direction but Laurie filled my vision before his eyes could meet mine.

  “Tate was tasked with finding out when you were arriving home,” she told me. “Being a man and not understanding the delicate intricacies of party planning, he failed in this endeavor and we only had two hours.”

  “Thank God we already bought all the decorations,” Maggie noted, moving in at Laurie’s side. “No way we’d have time to get to the mall and back again.” She grinned up at me. “You can find practically anything in Carnal but, gotta admit, the party supplies leave something to be desired.”

  “This is, unfortunately, true. Carnal needs less biker shops and more party stores,” Laurie agreed then looked back at me. “Anyway, this means it’s fried chicken and the fixin’s from the grocery store but they do it really good. Jonas loves it. He can eat a family pack all by himself. And I gave Shambles an emergency cake order and he got it ready just in time.”

  Shambles? I didn’t think I’d met a Shambles.

  I wondered if that was someone there’s nickname but I didn’t get to ask because Maggie again spoke.

  “We were going to get the bakery in town to make you a real wedding cake but that was if we had more than two hours, which we obviously didn’t, but we tried anyway and they said they couldn’t do it,” Maggie told me. “But they had a cake top so it looks kinda stupid but, stupid or not, it says what it needs to say.”

  “Betty went to Holly and did the flowers,” Laurie added.

  “Stella took charge of the kids and did the decorating,” Maggie went on.

  Then suddenly I felt my left hand taken in a tight grip and lifted. I looked down to see the flaming-haired Krystal thumbing my wedding bands.

  Then she jerked my hand up high in front of me, stating, “Pure Ty. Look at these fuckin’ rings.” She shook my hand at the two other women. “He hasn’t changed. No half-measures for that boy. Jesus. You could buy a house with these rings.”

  That wasn’t exactly true (though they certainly would be a hefty down payment) but I didn’t get to inform her of this, again because of Maggie.

  “Ohmigod!” Maggie shrieked and I struggled against taking a step back in reaction to the noise but couldn’t do it because she snatched my hand out of Krystal’s and dragged it close to her face. Then her head tipped back to look at me. “Those are gorgeous!” Still holding my hand, she twisted her torso and shouted across the island, “Ty! These rings are gorgeous!”

  Before I could look to Ty to see his reaction to Maggie’s shout, Krystal spoke again.

  “I bet you didn’t have to say a word. I bet those rings were all Ty. Which makes you the only female on the planet who didn’t have to give her man some instruction when it came to an engagement ring,” Krystal noted correctly and I looked down at her. “He may drink beer but that boy is pure champagne.”

  Then before I could comment on this, another voice came.

  “Laurie,” it was Jonas calling from the side of the island, “now that they’re here, can we eat? I was starved an hour ago and I’ve been sniffin’ chicken for forever. Can we break the seal or what?”

  And before Laurie could answer, yet another voice came.

  “Mommy!” Addison shouted from the other side and she was jumping up and pointing at a bunch of boxes extravagantly wrapped in wedding paper resting on a side counter. “Is it time for presents?” she asked.

  “No, honey, not just yet. After we have cake,” Maggie answered but I was staring at the presents.

  Presents.

  Presents, cake, fried chicken and decorations.

  I pulled my hand from Maggie’s and took a step back as my eyesight grew fuzzy but through the haze I heard the cheerful buzz all around. Smelled the chicken. Felt the vibe of friendship that had a hint of relief but more happiness and even love.

  Good. Clean. Right.

  Ronnie’s best friend was Shift. Shift did not arrange for Ronnie to have a welcome home party when he got let out of prison in Indiana and came home to Dallas. None of Ronnie’s friends did, neither did his family. This was because he’d fucked up and although we were happy he was home, his future was in the toilet, he’d flushed it down his damned self and that wasn’t anything to celebrate.

  But also, outside of Shift, all of Ronnie’s decent friends (who turned out to be not so decent) deserted him after he got home and the crew he found wasn’t the cake, banners, decorations, fried chicken and gift giving kind. They took. They didn’t give.

  “Lexie, you okay?” I heard Laurie ask and I took another step back, my eyes moving in the direction of Ty but I didn’t see him.

  I didn’t see him because it hit me that Ronnie had never had this but I didn’t either. I had good friends but there was nothing to celebrate for me with Ronnie in my life. He hated it, I knew,
but he knew it as I did. He was a shadow blocking out the sun of my world. He wasn’t about happy chatter and good friends rushing around in a two hour window to do something beautiful. If he’d lived and I’d given in one of the gazillion times he tried to talk me into marrying him, our people would have gone through the motions but the chatter wouldn’t be happy, the buzz not filled with love but instead obligation and maybe even doom.

  But more than that, I never thought I would have this. Growing up the way I did, dreams like this died early. You learned not to hope for too much when you experienced the bitter taste of disappointed as early as I did.

  These people doing this said it all about Ty. It said I was reading those signs right. No one did this kind of thing for an asshole or a loser. They did it for someone who was worthy of it.

  And my marriage to Ty might have started out fake but this… this was real. These people cared about him, a lot, and they were wasting no time bringing me into the fold.

  And he’d given me this.

  And I’d never had anything so beautiful.

  And I couldn’t handle it.

  “Ty,” I vaguely heard Maggie call, “somethin’s wrong with –”

  I took another step back and my arm went out to find purchase because if it didn’t, I was going to go down. I knew it. My head was swimming, my vision was blurred and my system couldn’t process what was happening.

  I felt a burning sensation at the small of my back, the beer slid out from between my fingers and I heard a deep rumble in my ear saying, “Lex.”

  I turned and saw a wall of black.

  Ty’s t-shirt.

  I lifted my hands and my fingers curled into the material right before I did a face plant in his chest, my legs gave out and I burst into tears.

  His long, powerful arms closed around me and they did this tight.

  “Baby, what the fuck?” I heard in my ear.

  “I can’t… this isn’t happening… I can’t process… presents… cake… chicken,” I stammered crazily then tilted my head back, saw him through blurry eyes and whispered, “Ty, honey, you know good things don’t happen to me. They don’t happen to me. I can’t take this. I don’t know what to do with it.”

  Then I lost sight of him because the wet was too much to see through so I shoved my face in his chest again and my body shook against his with my sobs.

  Then I was up in his arms and I automatically adjusted, pressing my wet face in his neck, wrapping my arms around it, we were moving but I was deep in the throes of a massive crying jag, didn’t see where we were going and wouldn’t have cared anyway.

  I felt myself settled in his lap as he sat somewhere, his arms moving to wrap tight around me but I kept my face in his neck, my arms around it though I pushed my torso deep into his, held on hard and kept crying.

  Eventually, one of his hands drifted up my back, under my hair to curl hot around my neck.

  “Lexie, baby, calm down,” he whispered in my ear.

  I nodded but kept crying.

  His fingers squeezed gently. “Baby, you gotta get a handle on this.”

  I nodded again and sucked in a broken breath. Then I sucked in another one.

  Then, face still in his neck, I mumbled, “I’m sorry. I just never… something like that…” I took in another broken breath and whispered, “It was unexpected.”

  “Got good friends,” he murmured.

  I nodded again because he did, he had good friends, the kind of friends you didn’t just get, the kind of friends you earned.

  And I didn’t know what to do with that either.

  I kept my face in his neck and held on.

  Then I took in another breath, this one didn’t break and my voice wasn’t trembling but it was quiet when I said, “I’m glad you have that.”

  “Me too.”

  I held on awhile longer.

  Then I swallowed. Then I admitted, “Maybe I am part-goof.”

  “Total,” he replied on another squeeze of his fingers at my neck with a corresponding squeeze of his arm around my back. “Total goof.”

  “Not total. Part.”

  He didn’t reply.

  I drew in a last breath through my nose and finally pulled my face out of his neck. His head came back and his chin dipped down so he could look at me.

  And God, God, he had beautiful eyes and their beauty increased exponentially when they were close up.

  “Sorry,” I whispered.

  “Don’t be,” he whispered back.

  “I know…” I started, stopped, pulled up the courage and started again, “I know it’s fake but thank you, Ty. I never expected to have anything that nice and it is nice, no matter what. So thank you for giving it to me.”

  He didn’t speak but his eyes changed, one of those changes I didn’t know, didn’t yet understand but this one was meaningful. They all were but this one was more meaningful than the rest.

  A lot more.

  And then I couldn’t stop myself, his eyes so close, that look in them, my arms moved from around his shoulders, my hands framed his face, I leaned up and whispered, “Thank you.”

  Then I pressed my lips to his.

  I meant to give him a soft kiss of gratitude. This was not to say I didn’t want to give him a long, hard, wet kiss of something else. And just what I wanted to give him and what that would lead to had also been filling my headspace the last couple of days but that wasn’t where I intended to go just then. Not yet. Not with a houseful of people downstairs waiting to eat fried chicken.

  But when my mouth hit his, he didn’t give me the chance to give him a soft kiss of gratitude. Instantly, his fingers slid up into my hair, cupping my head and his mouth opened over mine making a demand. Mine complied. Then his tongue spiked into my mouth and I liked the taste of it, I hadn’t had it in what seemed like a decade, I missed it and he tasted so fucking good my body pressed into his and not just because his arm around me grew super tight.

  Then I was twisted, on my back in what was, I noted vaguely and was unbelievably happy for, a bed. His torso was on mine, his hips beside mine, his long, heavy leg moved to tangle with mine as his tongue moved in my mouth and I wrapped one arm around his back, one around his shoulders, my hand moving to cup the back of his head and hold him to me.

  God, he couldn’t kiss. He could kiss.

  And spending days and days with his beauty, his generosity, his teasing, his attention, his fabulous body, hearing his deep, rumbling voice, trying to find sleep beside him in bed at night, seeing him stroke himself in the shower, knowing he could use his mouth, I wanted that. I wanted all of it. I wanted it naked and moving on me, in me. I wanted all of him.

  To tell him this, I pressed up into his body and his arm slid up my back then moved out so his hand could slide down my side from pit to waist, his thumb extended so it brushed light against the side of my breast and just that simple touch sent shocks of electricity between my legs so strong, I thought for a second just with that, his weight on me, my arms around him, his leg tangled with mine, his tongue in my mouth, I was going to come and do it hard.

  Then I suddenly found myself on my feet by the side of the bed, teetering because I didn’t know how I got there and the loss of all the beauty I’d just had was a brutal shock. I only remained standing because Ty’s big hands were cupping my jaws, his thumbs moving through the wetness still on my cheeks but his big body was held distant, the few feet between us seeming like miles.

  “Christ, I’m sorry,” he whispered and I blinked up at him in profound confusion.

  “What?” I whispered back breathily.

  “I’m sorry, Lexie. That won’t happen again. I promise you, it won’t happen again.”

  I blinked again, his hands dropped away, I felt the loss of them like a blow and I watched, I… actually… watched as he closed down. Completely. He snapped the shutters tight and the Ty I’d been getting to know disappeared behind that impenetrable wall that had been up when he’d walked out of prison five days ago.


  “Bathroom’s in there, you wanna clean up,” he told me, jerking his head to the side. “Take your time. They’re cool. They’ll get it. Come down when you’re ready.”

  Then, without another word or glance, he walked away.

  And I stood there in what I realized was a huge bedroom, watching him disappear down a flight of stairs wondering what just happened and hoping it wasn’t what I thought it was.

  Hoping at the same time knowing that it was.

  Because good shit didn’t happen to me.

  Lady Luck played with Ronnie and she also played with Ty, giving and taking, not in equal measure but they got their chance to taste sweet.

  But she didn’t like me.

  Not at all.

  Chapter Seven

  Still Feeling Hollow

  I opened my eyes and saw Ty’s pillows beside mine, the down depressed from his head resting there but his head wasn’t resting there as it hadn’t been the morning before or the morning before that or the morning before that.

  I knew it was stupid but I looked for a note on the pillow, his nightstand, my nightstand but there wasn’t a note as there wasn’t the morning before or the morning before that or the morning before that.

  I flopped to my back on the bed and looked at the wood paneled and beamed arched ceiling.

  I should probably be thankful I had a few days of it, a few days of sweet, a few days of teasing and soft voices and endearments.

  But I wasn’t.

  Because if you don’t know how good something can be, you don’t know how bad you’ll miss it when it was gone.

  I sighed, stared at the ceiling and let the last few days sift through my brain.

  When I finally got back to the party, everyone was a bit watchful and a bit friendlier (if that could be believed), handling me with care though doing it without prying. I tried to relax and pulled on my game face. I was a newlywed married to their Ty, happy, giddy and about to help my man put the past behind him and start a new life.

 

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