Blood & Rust (Lock & Key #4)

by Cat Porter

  “I always liked that a sunflower gets to live out its life naturally on the stalk,” I said. “Not cut down early or in its fantastic prime like any other flower. A sunflower gets to go full circle, from seed to strong green stalk, vibrant huge flower to brown, dry, and bowed over. That’s when the seeds are ready to harvest. People think the dried out sunflowers are ugly then, but to some of us, it’s beautiful.”

  “I like that, too.”

  I pressed my body against his. Yes, most people thought the dried sunflowers were spent, done, withered. Wasn’t that how Butler and I had seen ourselves on our journeys back to Meager? But we had proven ourselves wrong.

  Butler swiped the pollen off his jacket. “Whoa.”

  “Be careful. The flowers are sticky. If we keep walking through them, we’ll be covered in pollen before long. They’re difficult to navigate now anyhow.”

  He squeezed my hand. “I’d rather be covered in you.” He threw his arm around me, tucking me into his side, and gently kissed me. He brushed back strands of hair from my face, his eyes soft, faraway.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “I want to show you the Pacific,” he said. “I want to listen to the crash of the water with you. Swim together. Get you on a surfboard. I haven’t been back there in a long, long time.”

  My eyes flooded and I smiled through it.

  We had learned that it was okay to want things, to change things, to make things better.

  “Would we go out there on your bike?” I asked.

  “Hell yes. Only way to see all that beautiful country. Unless you—”

  “Let’s do it.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. Really. I’m sure Jill won’t mind running things on her own for a couple of weeks.”

  Jill had become my partner in the gallery. My business loan from the bank hadn’t come through, but Jill and Boner had. They’d made a small but healthy investment in the Rusted Heart. Jill took care of most of the day-to-day tasks and sold her Firefly Wishes jewelry as part of the store’s contemporary collection. Her lower-priced faux baubles were extremely popular with ladies of all ages, and her pricier precious metal and stone line was starting to take off. Having someone I knew, loved, and trusted holding down the fort was beyond wonderful. More importantly, sharing that fort and my vision with someone who was just as enthusiastic and devoted as me was extremely satisfying.

  Butler squeezed my hand. “Scarlett, I brought you here today to your family’s farm for a reason.”

  “What? Not for sex in the sunflowers?”

  He let out a laugh. “Not yet.”

  “Oh, goody.”

  He held my gaze, his spine straightened. He was serious.

  “Marry me, Tania. I know the ink is still fresh on your divorce, but I want to be with you, in the biggest, most absolute—”

  “Unequivocal?”

  A grin split his face. “Most fucking unequivocal way possible. So, if that’s a piece of paper stamped by the county and the state, let’s get on it.”

  “The paper doesn’t matter to me. What matters is that we’re together.” My eyes stung, and I swallowed hard.

  “Am I sensing a but?”

  I shifted my weight. “Does this mean you’re okay with me not telling you everything about Finger right now? I know it’s a lot to ask of you. From the beginning, it was a problem.”

  “I still don’t like it. But, obviously, it’s real important to you, so I’m respecting that. I get there are reasons. Believe me. So, I’m taking that leap for you, Tania. For us. As long as you’re holding my hand and by my side. As long as you’re only mine, forever mine.”

  “I am, forever and only.”

  He squeezed my hands. “I believe you, baby.”

  “I’m honored that you would do this for me. Take this leap of faith.”

  “I haven’t had faith in anything for years now, Tania. You’ve asked me to do something so against every instinct, every—”

  “I know.”

  I knew. The discomfort, the struggle, had been written all over his face, his body, since we’d gotten together. It was not the best of situations, but in a weird way, we both needed this. He needed to trust, and I needed to be trusted.

  I curled my fingers in his shirt. “I promise your faith is well placed. You do it for your brothers every day.”

  “Yes, I do. Every day.” His teeth dragged along his bottom lip. His thumb stroked over my mouth.

  “I have to have my mom with me. I can’t leave her.”

  “I know. So, I guess I’m moving in.”

  I rose up on my toes. “We could knock down the wall between my and my brother’s old rooms and add a bathroom. Ta-da—master suite. That is, if you don’t mind, if you—”

  “You’ve been thinking about it, huh?”

  “Yep.”

  “I like it,” he said.

  “And I was thinking that we could take our time with fixing up my great-grandmother’s big house in Pine Needle and eventually move there.”

  “That idea, I really, really like. But first things first.”

  From his pocket, he took out a small black velvet box and held it out to me. My breath jammed in my chest. “For you.”

  I snapped open the tiny box. A white gold band with an emerald-shaped black stone glittered in the sun.

  “This is why I brought you here, baby. I wanted to do it here.”

  “It’s beautiful. It’s—”

  “A black diamond on Black Hills gold for my vixen queen. I couldn’t give you Astrid’s crown, but I can give you this.”

  I lunged at him, and he lifted me up in his arms on a groan.

  The box went flying.

  “Shit, the ring!”

  “Oh no!”

  “Damn it! It popped out of the box—”

  We both fell to the ground and searched the dirt, scrambling over the patch of earth.

  A dark glittering in a dusty ray of sunlight.

  I grabbed it. “Here it is!”

  His face tensed. “Are you putting it on or what?”

  “Yes! Yes!” I put it in his hand. “You do it!”

  He slid the ring of rings on my finger.

  “I love it. I—” I caught his gaze.

  Enthusiasm and satisfaction were in those brilliant blue eyes that matched the sky above us, a hint of vulnerability in the set of his jaw.

  I threw my arms around him and held him close. “I love you, Butler, and I can’t wait to marry you.”

  Right there, on our knees, in the dirt of my forefathers and mothers, with the bees buzzing, the hard sun breaking through the tall sunflowers, rustling in the hot air, waving over us, we claimed our happiness. Vagabonds, the two of us, yet we had brought each other back home; home to one of the most difficult spots on the planet, this beautiful patch of earth.

  I held on tight to the man of my unexpected dreams, and he held me even tighter.

  Who needed a man who gave you roses?

  My man gave me the earth and the sun.

  “Scarlett, we’ve got to get moving.”

  “Huh? Why? I thought we were going to—”

  “Surprise, part two.”

  “SURPRISE!”

  Rae, Penny, and I had organized the engagement party along with Tania’s Aunt Charlotte who lived on the farm with her husband, Mac. We’d set up the party in one of the old barns that was no longer being used but had withstood the purges of time and Dakota weather.

  All the One-Eyed Jacks were there, as well as Catch and Nina. Tania hugged and kissed every single person and showed off her ring.

  “How are you doing, groom-to-be?” Boner held Thunder in his arms.

  The kid stared up at me while he viciously chewed on a bright red pacifier, one fist curled tightly in Boner’s T-shirt.

  “Feels great, man. How’s this little guy? He must be the quietest, most no-fuss baby ever.”

  “He is.”

  We both aimed our attention at Thunder. He had his
mother’s luminous hazel eyes and his father’s black hair and darker skin. He was gorgeous. Thunder blinked at us, realizing he had our full attention. Those huge eyes of his glittered, swallowing us whole. A gurgle, a smile, and his pacifier popped out of his mouth. He wiggled in Boner’s hold.

  “He’s something,” I mumbled.

  “I know.” Boner kissed the side of Thunder’s face.

  “You getting the urge?” I asked.

  “What?” Boner offered the pacifier back to Thunder, and he gobbled it between his teeth and lips.

  “To procreate.”

  Boner’s eyes darted to Jill, who was crouched between Becca and little Jake, her arms around their waists, as Grace took a photo of them.

  “I’ve got it bad, bro, so fucking bad,” said Boner, his brow furrowed. “Jill doesn’t know it yet though. I can’t tell her. I mean, shit, her uterus needs a break.”

  I laughed, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Somehow, brother, I don’t think your old lady would deny you anything. Especially that.” I picked up the thick cotton cloth on Boner’s shoulder and wiped at the dribble running down the side of Thunder’s chin.

  “Hey, congratulations.” Wes stood at my side, a slanted smile on his face.

  “Wes.” I took him in my arms and hugged him hard.

  “You deserve to be happy.”

  “You think?” I asked.

  “I know you do. I got a present for you. Tania thought it was a great idea.”

  I leaned into him. “Does this have something to do with my guitar case disappearing this past week?”

  “Yeah.” Wes turned to Jake. “Buddy, bring it over.”

  Grace’s nephew struggled with my guitar case in his grip and pushed it at Wes. Wes turned it around. On the front of the case was a hand-painted One-Eyed Jack skull in drippy gothic glory. Its glimmering starlight eye was painted in a wide range of purples, silvers, and light blues.

  I stilled. “You did this?” I asked Wes.

  “Lock helped me with the basic design, but I took off from there.”

  “That’s incredible, Wes,” Boner said.

  Thunder gurgled his approval.

  I gripped Wes’s neck. “You’re so talented, and this is beyond words beautiful. Thank you. Means a lot to me. A hell of a lot.”

  He only pressed his lips together and nodded stiffly. I pulled him close and kissed the side of his face.

  “You still coming to our first game on Friday?” he asked, a hand pressing in on my back. “We’ve got a hell of a starting lineup this year.”

  “Wesley, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  The engagement party went on all afternoon. As the sun set, Tania brought me into the main house and showed me her old bedroom, a room she’d loved, a room she’d had to say good-bye to when her dad had died and she and her mom, brother, and sister had moved into town. Tania’s old room was now Charlotte’s knitting and hobby room.

  Tania stood at the window. Reds and oranges streaked the huge open sky, the fields gleaming in their glory.

  “I loved this view. I used to decorate this window shelf with my little figurines, put my handmade stained glass up here.” Her fingers traced down a strip of stained glass with a yellow sun and blue moon on it. “Look at that. Aunt Charlotte kept it. This one’s mine.” She pressed her face against the windowpane. “I swear, I can still smell my mother’s kuchen baking in the kitchen.”

  I came up behind her and lifted her wrap skirt, moving her boy-short panties out of the way.

  “What are you—”

  “I’m gonna make you come while you’re reminiscing and feeling all that sweet girlie nostalgia. Hands on the window.”

  Those long fingers of hers splayed on the window, my ring on her hand making a sound against the glass. I palmed her gorgeous ass, bringing it closer to me, and dipped into her wet heat. Very wet.

  I bent over her back, my lips at her ear. “You ever fool around with anyone in here?”

  “No, I was a good girl and a little too young for that at the time.”

  I unbuckled my jeans with my left hand, my right toying with her clit. “Good.”

  “But I got started early and played with myself a lot.” She took in a breath. “Lots of fantasizing about my dream man.”

  I grabbed her hips, sliding my cock inside her, and she let out a low moan.

  I ground into her deeper. “Play with this.”

  “Fuck yes,” she breathed. “Yes, yes…”

  Our breaths fogged the window, and I felt that throb of her around me.

  “Fuck your real-life dream man, baby,” I whispered, nipping the back of her neck.

  She thrust back against me.

  “I love you,” she breathed. “I love you, Markus. So damned much.”

  The pale skin of her neck glowed in the warm rays of the setting sun.

  “Can’t get enough of you, Scarlett. Love being inside you, feeling you come on me.” I picked up my pace, my hand sinking over her pussy. “Can’t fucking get enough.”

  She ground back into me. “I hope you never get enough.”

  Three weeks later, I took Tania on the back of my bike, and we headed for the Pacific Ocean.

  I’d had Lenore surprise her with a simple flowing white dress that she’d designed and made for Tania, and Jill had given Tania a lariat style necklace with golden crystals and citrine stones, the color of sunflowers. The long necklace fell perfectly between her braless tits in that loose, slinky made-for-the-beach halter dress.

  I bought my woman a single sunflower for a bouquet, and Scarlett and I got married on a beach with the waves crashing on the shore, seagulls calling overhead, the wind joining our promises and blowing them toward that big blue sky.

  We kissed as husband and wife and stood there, just the two of us, hand in hand, watching the ocean on the same spot where, years ago and for the very first time, I’d been called forth from the grave, like Lazarus.

  Resurrected.

  “I know you guys are from South Dakota. That where you grew up, too?” I asked.

  “No, I’m originally from Colorado,” Dig said, his tongue sliding across his lower lip. “The mountains.”

  “Wow. I’d like to see the Rocky Mountains one day. I’ve always lived by the beach, just a little further south from here. You like it out there? In South Dakota, I mean.”

  “I do. Very much.”

  “Oh, yeah? I couldn’t be landlocked. No fucking way.”

  His body visibly tensed next to mine.

  “I mean…well, I don’t know,” I muttered.

  Dig stared at me. Hard. His strange almost golden brown eyes drilled into me, and my pulse sprang.

  “What do you know?” He brought two of his ringed fingers to the sides of his head and tapped. “You’re landlocked inside. Inside. And that’s a shit place to be.” He pointed his two fingers at my face. “I can see it in your eyes.”

  “See what?”

  “That happy glaze that’s barely half an inch deep. That lazy smile on your face. Lost Boy.” He returned his attention to the ocean.

  “What? What did you call me?”

  “Lost Boy.” He took in a breath of air to deal with his impatience with me, I was sure of it. “Come on, you don’t know Peter Pan?”

  “Oh, right. Yeah.” I shifted my weight.

  Dig rested his hands on his hips, perfectly still, listening to the waves breaking, as if they offered him advice. The sea air rustled his dirty blond hair against his face, and he took in a long inhale. “So, what’s the plan?”

  “Plan?”

  “You looking for something out here?”

  “Um…nah.”

  “Why the fuck not?”

  My spine stiffened at his words, his sharp tone. “Right now, I’m just—”

  Those eyes shot to mine again, and an eerie feeling crawled through my veins. Like he was inside me, reading my fears, poking at my cracks.

  “Just what?” he asked. “You gonna stay on th
is strip of beach forever? Surf in a competition here and maybe another one there? Keep pushing dope and whatever else you can scrounge up for kids and yuppie losers? Yeah, you’re their idol now, sure. But, in a couple of years, that’ll all be over. And none of them are gonna be giving you the time of day, not even the girls. Then, how are you going to eat? Where are you gonna live? How are you gonna look at yourself in the mirror?”

  “Wh-what? I don’t know.” I crossed my arms against his onslaught.

  “You don’t know. You don’t know.” He faced the ocean again. “When are you gonna know? You waiting for someone else to know? Because, man, if there’s one thing you definitely need to know, it’s that nobody gives a shit about you, except for you.”

  I didn’t answer. I didn’t know how. He was right. What the fuck did I know? I was just a jumble of self-doubt, denial, bravado, and balls. He saw right through me, the asshole.

  “Tell me, what do you get out of it?” He motioned toward the ocean with his chin. “What’s out there for you?”

  I took in a breath, my eyes on the rolling waves I loved so much. “You’re out there, and it’s like you go into a kind of oblivion. Suddenly, all your life is in this long, long, stretched out wave. You’re removed from your past, your present. Everything that’s on your mind becomes insignificant. You feel completely removed from the world around you. Nothing matters but you and the board and the wave and the right-the-fuck now.”

  Dig grinned. He recognized the crazy. “Sounds like how I feel about riding my bike.”

  “Yeah.” I met his penetrating gaze. “You’re right. It is the same.”

  “Me and my brothers have all that, but we also create something new for ourselves on our own terms, something more than just tripping and survival. Something significant. This beach won’t give you that. We could, though. I could teach you things, like I’ve been taught by my brothers,” he continued. “You’ve got good instincts on the water, and you already got good bike skills under your belt.”

  “I’ve been working on bikes and cars for years.”

  “I saw that; it’s great. There’s more to learn though. Always more to learn.”

  I wasn’t quite sure what he was referring to, but the sudden press of his jaw told me it was serious, something other than, say, construction.