“Vanessa, place the ring on Owen’s hand, and repeat after me.” I slid the ring onto Owen’s left ring finger.
“With this ring, I marry you,” Pastor Rich said.
“With this ring, I marry you,” I said, looking up at Owen.
“Wear it as a symbol of my love forever,” Pastor Rich prompted.
“Wear it as a symbol of my love forever,” I responded, my voice cracking a little.
“Owen, place the ring on Vanessa’s hand, and repeat after me.” Pastor Rich continued. “With this ring, I marry you.” Owen slid the ring onto my finger.
“With this ring, I marry you,” Owen was looking at me steadily, solemnly.
“Wear it as a symbol of my love forever,” Pastor Rich said.
“Wear it as a symbol of my love forever,” Owen said.
“May your life together be blessed with prosperity and good health, and may your love for each other be a source of strength, respect, and passion for one another, all the days of your lives. I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.” Pastor Rich finished.
We shared our first kiss as a married couple. Our Pack shifted and howled joyfully. I leaned back and looked into Owen’s eyes. His hands were on my hips, holding me close. I had never been more his, nor he mine. The look of exhaustion was gone, and I would see it return from time to time. His past would always have its hold on him, but I would kiss it away, reminding him that it was just that—the past. That day, we shape-shifted into wolf-form and ran off into the slowly darkening woods.
~*~
THE END
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Double Touch
~ Bonus Story ~
A Paranormal Menage Erotic Romance
Chester tangles a hand in Lucky’s hair as if to urge him onward. As Lucky focuses on my chest, Chester adjusts his grip on me to slip his fingertips under the waistband of my pants, brushing against my wispy hairs down below. I inhale shakily, and Lucky pauses in his ministrations, pulling away slightly.
“This can’t be happening.” I blurt, feeling as if I’m in some sort of haze.
* * *
Have you ever fallen into such a state of monotony, such acceptance of the mediocrity of your life, that once you’re startled out of it, you’re unsure what to do? That’s how I feel, watching them lower my mother’s body in the ground. I feel like perhaps I should be crying more, throw myself on the coffin, but in spite of myself all I can feel is… confusion. I’ve been watching my mother slowly succumb to a disease that ravaged her body over the course of nearly five years. It’s been a trial, a lonely one at that. With no real direction to go in, I simply watch with an addled mind as the coffin is lowered the final distance. People are beginning to disperse, and I’ve heard my share of comments on what a beautiful ceremony it was. I exhale a weary breath, drawing my phone from my pocket and dialing a vaguely familiar number. I can only hope his number hasn’t changed, since… well, in the years I’ve been taking care of Ma.
“Hello, this is the Lawrence resident, James speaking.” A voice answers abruptly, and I briefly consider hanging up. He doesn’t recognize my number, it’s been so long, my whining would be unwelcome… Then he pauses, inhales slowly and speaks hopefully. “Cassie, honey, is that you?” He murmurs, and it’s at that moment the tears begin to spill down my cheeks.
“H-hi, daddy.” I blubber, cursing myself for my inability to keep my composure. If he notices my tears, he gives no indication. “Ma… ma’s gone to be with the lord, daddy.” I continue, and I hear his voice hitch as he immediately prepares to console me. I realize I’m standing alone in the middle of the cemetery, and it will be nearing dusk soon. I can barely process the words he’s saying as I meander back to where my car is parked, wondering where on earth I’ll go from here.
“-- and I know you’ve got your mom’s place to take care of, but there’s always a place on the farm for you if you should want it,” I manage to catch, and I tighten my grip on the phone. Even in spite of the years we’ve been apart, it’s as if my father can read my mind.
“I… really?” I begin, but quickly continue to momentarily divert the conversation. “How have things been on the farm, anyhow? It’s been a while,” I say in an attempt to sound bright and cheerful. The words fall short, even to my own ears. My father rumbles a soft laugh, though the sound is tempered with sadness.
“It’s been too long. But, you were doing a good thing taking care of your ma as long as you did. Like I said, you’d be welcome to come stay down here for a spell anytime.” He offers again, and my heart thuds in my chest. My mind races to the long days and peaceful nights on my daddy’s farm, wandering the fields and catching lightning bugs. A familiar face worms its way into my mind, and I speak without really intending to.
“How’s Lucky been?” I say before I can stop myself. My dad laughs again, a more jovial sound this time.
“Aw, girl. You know that boy ain’t never stopped missing you. He’s been working on the farm since he was old enough to work a plow, and he stays in the barn loft with ol’ Chester.” He hums, and confusion seems to take over once more.
"Chester…?" I begin uncertainly, and my dad hums in acknowledgment.
“Another farmhand I hired on. Him and Lucky are like brothers, but boy howdy do they get to bickering. He’s a good fella, though.” He assures me, and I can’t help but laugh at the idea of short and scrawny Lucky arguing with anyone but me.
"I'll… think about it. I have some loose ends to tie up, some affairs to deal with regarding… well. Ma's passing. But I'll give you a call in a couple of days. I'm not going to lie, it would be nice to get away from the city for a while. I've always felt a bit out of place." I mutter.
“That’s because there aren’t enough mud holes to go trouncing through.” He agrees, and I can almost see his smiling face. He has it right enough, I’ve been a tomboy since I was a small thing, more home making mudpies than drinking a cappuccino. I always figured I would adjust to city life, you know, grow up? That just never seemed to happen for ol’ Cassie Lawrence, however. I’ve never had the chance to get a real job, aside from taking care of Ma. We lived off her social security checks from month to month. The thought of being back on the farm, having some purpose now that my mother’s… gone.
I belatedly realize I'm still on the phone, and the tears streaming down my cheeks have only increased in frequency. I hiccup a sob, and my dad coos soothing words through the phone. I hadn't expected it would hurt this much. I had known, all along, that it had been a matter of time before I lost her. Now… I feel like I should be more composed.
“I miss her.” I say balefully, and my daddy breathes a sigh.
"I know, baby girl. I wish I could be there to make it better. But, you give me a call anytime you want, and you let me know as soon as you decide you wanna come out here with me and the boys." He offers. I can tell it's nearing time for him to wrap up his chores for the day, and I feel briefly guilty for keeping him on the line so long.
“Alright. I’ll call you when I figure something out for myself.” I say softly. I can sense his sadness on the other line, and I speak up before thinking once more. “I know you still loved her too,” I offer quietly. He chuckles weakly, and I pause to give him time to pull himself together.
“And I’ll always love you. Call me tomorrow if you’re able, hon. I love you. Goodnight.” He manages, his voice watery.
“I love you too, daddy. Goodnight.” I reply, lingering on the line until I hear the dial tone indicating he’s hung up his phone. I draw the phone away from my ear, breathing a sigh and allowing the tears to fall freely. It’s no small wond
er that I make it home, but as soon as I reach my room, I collapse on the mattress. I swear I can hear Ma’s nasally voice calling for me through the night, but I can do little more than dismiss it as my mind playing tricks on me.
I’m startled awake by the sound of a loud car horn blaring just outside my window. I stare balefully at the ceiling for a moment, wonder just what I had done to deserve such a fate. The horn continues to sound intermittently, and I throw the covers off of myself before approaching the window to give the person a piece of my mind. I lean out the window, eyes widening as I spot a well-muscled man leaning against the front of a pickup truck. He looks towards my window, quirking a thick brow over his soulful brown eyes.
“Well little Miss Sassy Cassie, if you ain’t just the prettiest thing I ever did see.” He calls out, and I fight a blush that rises on my cheeks. I can’t think of who on earth this adonis of a man could be, but his eyes, more than anything, are somehow familiar.
“L-Lucky?” I call out and he grins toothily in response. My heart pounds in my chest and I draw away from the window, briefly clutching my chest. This can’t be the squirrely little boy who had a crush on me so many years ago. Yet, there he stood, outside waiting for me. I run downstairs as quickly as I am able, rushing to the door and pausing for a brief moment. It wouldn’t do to look desperate, as much as I had missed my childhood friend. He was very much a man now, and I certainly did not want to give him the wrong idea. I unlock the front door, pulling it open to allow him inside. I belatedly realize I’m still in my funeral garb from the day before, and I’m suddenly self-conscious as he steps past me. He nudges my shoulder playfully, and a soft laugh spills past my cheeks unbidden.
“Real sorry about your Ma, darlin’.” He says carefully, seeming to fully take in the lower floor of the house. It’s a wreck, and food remains on the table where I had prepared dinner before ma, well… I try not to think about it.
“Thanks, Lucky. Wha… what are you doing here?” I implore, and he offers me a toothy little smile.
“Well, I’m here to fetch you for your pa. He said to give you some time, but I said, nothin’ doin’ boss. So I drove on out here to tell you to pack your stuff. I’m takin’ you home to Tennessee.” He says boldly, meandering through the house. I stare at him in silent disbelief, briefly tempted to argue the situation. However, as I think it over, I realize I truly have no argument to offer. I don’t want to stay alone in this house that radiates death.
"Don't tell Daddy I gave in so easily," I say coyly, shuffling upstairs to pack a bag. He watches me go, and I'm more than faintly aware of his eyes on my rear end. It's no question that his feelings haven't dimmed over the years, but I can't say I'm certain of my own. I swallow a laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation; my childhood best friend driving from states over to carry me off to my daddy's farm. I toss in what few articles might be appropriate for the climate, the sheer necessities, and zip up a single suitcase. I pause for a moment, changing into something vaguely more appropriate: a pair of cutoff shorts and a plain white tank top. I examine myself briefly in the mirror, grinning before throwing the door to my room open.
As I descend the stairs, Lucky looks rather awkward, as if taken aback by his own decision to come rushing to get me. I clear my throat, and he glances obligingly towards me, seeming to swallow a big lump in his throat.
“You look… real nice.” He offers carefully, and I allow a faint smile. “Is that all you’re bringing?” He continues, glancing to my sparse belongings.
"Yep." I retort, popping the p sound. He rolls his eyes, throwing open the front door and gesturing for me to step towards his old pickup truck. I meander past him, shooting him a toothy smile. "Aw, Lucky. I'm sure you know. Some things never change." I announce before tossing my bag into the back of the truck. Much to my surprise, a loud squawk of pain sounds, and a sandy haired man sits upright in the back of the truck. Lucky levels a glare at the other man, but I can do little more than getting lost in his deep blue eyes.
“And far too often, things do.” Lucky drawls.
The sandy haired man considers me for a long moment, shifting to pull himself out of the bed of the truck. My eyes fall upon his abs as he is, of course, shirtless. Where Lucky is all rugged and rough edges, this man reminds me of one of my daddy’s show horses. His muscles are lean, not at all bulky, and his eyes are bright and full of life. He offers me a faint smile before turning his attention to Lucky.
“Chester, you gotta be kiddin’ me.” Lucky blurts, and the blonde man--Chester?-- laughs cheerfully.
“Aw, c’mon Lucky duck. You couldn’t expect to take off to save some damsel without your right hand man.” Chester announces, puffing his chest out and strutting a bit. Lucky claps a hand to his face, and I can’t help but giggle at the other man’s antics.
"So you're the infamous Chester that my daddy told me about." I muse, and Chester offers me a cheeky smile, formally extending his hand. As I reach out to grip his hand, he seems to be rethinking it, drawing his hand back and spitting a wad of spit into his palm. My eyes widen in disbelief as he reaches out to grasp my hand once more. I watch the saliva where it glistens in his palm, and I hesitate, looking uncertainly at Lucky. He meets my gaze, tilting his head slightly. Taking the cue that this is some sort of challenge, I spit in my own palm before slapping mine and Chester's hands together. The sandy haired man laughs uproariously, and though I'm vaguely disgusted, I'm more taken with his laughter than I had anticipated.
“You played your sweetheart down.” Chester grins at Lucky, and I consider the other man. His face reddens, and he tips his hat down before slipping towards the truck.
“Y-yeah, well. I reckon we ought to head on back to the farm. Her daddy’s gonna be real antsy if we’re not back soon.” Lucky mutters, pulling the door open. I offer him a gentle smile, but he averts his eyes as I slip into the truck, settling in the middle of the bench seat. Chester circles around, slipping into the passenger seat as Lucky settles behind the steering wheel. The two exchange glances, and Chester quirks a cheeky grin that Lucky seems to have trouble returning. I rest a hand on his arm, and he meets my gaze briefly before reddening and averting his eyes towards the road. As he backs out of the driveway, Chester reaches out to turn up the volume on the radio. I’m certain the device won’t work, but am pleasantly surprised when Chester manages to tune in to a local country station. He hoots and hollers, throwing his arm out the open window of the passenger side. Lucky seem to relax, and I breathe a sigh of relief, sagging in my seat. The ride would have been unbearably long if the two men had been bickering the whole time.
I find myself being nudged awake, what must be hours later. Lucky watches me carefully, and I smile as I blink my eyes open, jolting as my friend is shoved aside. I don’t know what I expected to feel upon laying eyes upon my father once more, but I never could have anticipated the emotion that would overcome me. I lunge out of the cab of the truck, throwing my arms around the broad barrel of a man. He spins me in a circle, and the happy tears spilling down my cheeks are swiftly wiped away.
“My sweet baby girl.” He says warmly, and I bury my face in his shoulder.
"Aw, a real daddy's girl, ain't she?" Chester pipes up, and I can hear a loud smack. My father offers the two younger men a look of disapproval, and Chester rubs his arm while offering Lucky a sour look. "I was just sayin' Lucky." He grouses.
“You was ruinin’ a moment is what you were doin’.” Lucky retorts, and I swallow a laugh as my dad clears his throat.
“You two, don’t you have work you ought to be doing?” My daddy rumbles, and Lucky looks briefly chagrined. Chester simply smiles innocently, looking me up and down. My body grows warm as I realize the gazes of both of the younger men are now fixed upon me. My cheeks redden, and I bury my face back in my daddy’s shoulder.
“Real sorry, Mr. Lawrence.” Lucky mutters, and Chester chuckles.
“Yeah, boss. We’re real sorry,” Chester mimics. I draw away from my father to
see the two men glaring at one another. The moment drags on for what seems an agonizingly long time before my dad clears his throat once more and the men seem to come to their senses.
"I'll see you later, Cass." Lucky offers, grabbing Chester by the arm and forcibly pulling the sandy-haired man away.
"Yeah, see ya!" Chester echoes before the two disappear around the side of the house. Beyond that lies the giant red barn I'd grown up with, and presumably the pastures my daddy had kept up for some years.
“They have a wild stallion that they’re tryin’ to break today. I’ll show you around, and then we can go check and see how they’re getting along with it.” Dad announces, gently taking me by the arm and guiding me along. I allow him to drag me along nearly the entire property, pointing out the many chores that he and the younger men do on a daily basis. I listen intently, feeling somewhat guilty for cashing in on my father’s generosity without contributing in some way.
“I was thinking maybe I could help with some of the chores. Earn my keep, and all.” I say carefully, and my daddy’s laughter booms in response.
"Aw, honey, you ain't gotta worry about earning your keep here. Me and the boys take care of things just fine." He dismisses me, moving ahead. I won't let the issue be so easily cast aside, however, and I jog to catch up with him, snagging him by the wrist.
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