by HJ Bellus
She shrugs. “Yes, I’m ready, and my bed kills your back. It’s not fair when your training is all about your body and shape. I just have my brain to take care of.”
She points to her head then scoots her dork glasses up her nose.
“Jesus, I love you, Mack-A-Bee. We will check in on Gene before settling at my place.” I mentally pat myself on the back for that cover up. Of course, Mack would want to check in on him, but she has no idea he’ll be at the party tonight.
“Good plan, Stan.” She begins pulling out my jeans and black t-shirt from my duffle bag.
There’s not a hint of uncomfortable silence as I dress before her. My stomach protests a couple of times while dressing. I’m hungry as fuck. Thank God, the party is at a steakhouse. I’ll be ordering the biggest motherfucking T-bone on the menu.
Mack hitches the duffle bag over her shoulder as I finish tying my boots. We walk out of the gym hand in hand. I thank my lucky stars when she doesn’t comment on the fact we are the last to leave. There’s always a fighter training and at least Boss roaming around.
“We should get a doughnut for dessert. You’ve never been to the shop.” Mack swings our hands while gazing up at me.
“We can do that.” I lean down and kiss her forehead without missing a step.
“I’m going to order for the both of us tonight.”
I grunt, not impressed with her idea. “Love ya, babe, but not gonna eat chicken or rabbit food tonight.”
She giggles and leans into me. “I know. The biggest T-bone on the menu cooked medium rare with French fries and a Dr. Pepper.”
I let go of her hand only to slap her ass. “Gonna make a fine piece of ass one day, baby. You know me well. Don’t tell Boss about the fries or the soda.”
“Your secret is safe with me.” She shrugs.
It’s a damn lie. Her and Boss are thick as thieves. She’d tattle on me in a second. It’s goddamn adorable. The rest of the walk is made in silence. Mack’s contented sighs let me know she’s relaxed and comfortable in her own skin. I begin second-guessing everything about tonight. She doesn’t like her birthday and for damn good reasons. I’m about to obliterate all of it. Gene was on my side while planning it, and now it all seems like one miserable mistake.
Mack reaches out, wrapping her tiny hand around the metal door handle to the steakhouse. I pull her back for a second while staring down at her.
“Do you love me?” I cup her cheek.
“Yeah. What’s going on, Trick?” She plants a hand on my chest, on high alert.
“Just remember I love you more than anything and I’ll give you the goddamn world on a platter.”
I swing open the door, ripping off the proverbial Band-Aid. Mack steps in first, still peering over her shoulder at me in question. Juice Newton’s “Angel of the Morning” serenades us. There’s no hostess to greet us. I stare at all our family. Every single person who loves Mack without reservation stands before us. Fucking Letty or Betty sends me a wink accompanied by an inappropriate hand gesture.
Mack waltzes up to the hostess stand, not noticing the difference. She waits there for a few seconds before turning back to me. I’ve never felt so fucking nervous, not even before my championship round in Vegas last year. I could vomit right now.
Someone clears their throat, gaining Mack’s attention. She lifts her head to gaze up, and I’m at her side. I grab her hand as she processes the sight before her.
Every shade and hue of yellow bathes the room. There’s a towering doughnut cake next to Gene. Belle waves a crumbled poster that I’d guess reads “Happy B-Day, Mack-A-Bee.”
Sunni waves with Jag shoving a doughnut in his mouth next to her. Nobody attempts to move, giving Mack a second to soak it all in. I’ve risked everything to make this night possible for her, so I indulge in being the first to tell her so.
“Happy Birthday, Mack-A-Bee. God gave me you, and I don’t want to do anything but love you for the rest of my days.”
She gasps, staring straight ahead. I can read her emotions playing out on her features. It’s as if each year of torment and loneliness is relieved at this moment. I have no doubt the articles of the “trash can baby” are playing a part of it. I’ve done my job and can’t push Mack any further along. She can either accept the love or run. I sure in the hell know what I want her to pick. The thing about life is it’s her choice. I’ve loved her as hard as I possibly can.
Mack covers her mouth and begins walking away. Not a good sign. I have a feeling my plan is about to backfire.
Chapter 16
Mack
The atmosphere of the steakhouse is off. It’s the first thing I notice when I walk in. Ignoring it, I bounce right up to the hostess stand, eager to get us a table and order my man a big ol’ steak.
I glance up when nobody appears. It’s then my breathing hitches, and my shoulders grow taut with impending anxiety. An oversized banner hanging above the bar catches my attention. Happy Birthday, Mack-A-Bee. A poster, waving wildly, is the next thing I zero in on. Little sweet Belle does her best to show it off.
Face after face come into view. Familiar people. My friends. My family. A freaking cake made of yellow frosted doughnuts towers in the middle of the room. Gene is the first to move, taking a step toward me. I back up. He of all people knows how much I loathe this day. It’s more than hate. My birthday marks the point in time where I was thrown away like a piece of trash. It forces me to relive the days in a loveless home. I never acknowledge it for those reasons alone.
I take a few steps back, beginning to shake my head. I collide with Trick’s solid chest. The scent of sweet leather with a hint of tangerines envelopes me. It has the power to calm my nerves and ground me. I take a few more seconds to soak in everything before me. I have the power to stay or flee. My heart wants to remain while my brain is screaming at me to run. Then it dawns on me that I have the power to choose. It’s a foreign feeling.
Trick’s full, sexy lips graze the shell of my ear. “Happy Birthday, Mack-A-Bee. We all wanted to celebrate with you.”
I continue shaking my head for no reason. When my vision doesn’t blur, and my knees remain strong, a genuine, oversized smile graces my lips. Boss walks right up to me, holding out his hand. I take it without a second thought.
“It’s time to party, Mack. Tonight is all about you.” Boss pulls me into the central area of the restaurant.
Gene wraps me in a tight hug. It lasts longer than a normal one. His body quakes against mine. His voice comes out shaky as he speaks, “Happy birthday, baby girl. You deserve all of this and so much more. It’s the one thing I’ve always wanted for you. This wise man is growing old in his years. This makes everything complete.”
And the tears attack. They cascade hot and heavy off my bottom lashes. For the first time in my life, the tears I shed are happy ones. Loved ones. When Gene steps back, I turn in a complete circle, taking everything in. This place looks like it came straight out of a party-planning magazine. On my final sweep through, I catch Trick leaning up against the bar. His elbow is propped on the top, his hand tucked deep in his pocket, and his ankles crossed, and it undoes me. The man is gorgeous in his tight black shirt, faded blue jeans, and his ball cap placed backward on his head.
I move with confidence and happiness apparent in each step. My head is no longer peering down at my raggedy sneakers. I jump into his arms without warning. Trick catches me as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. He always will.
“Thank you so much for this, Trick,” I mumble into his neck.
“You like?” he asks, his hands dangerously roaming close to my ass.
His want and need for me bulges against his zipper, pushing into my pelvis.
“More than like.”
“No safe word tonight?”
“Nope. I don’t need one anymore. You’ll never have to worry about me saying yellow. I’m living life with you.”
His arms tighten around me. “God, I love you. Gonna put you down, though,
because if I hold you any longer, I’m gonna march our asses out of here and devour your sweet pussy.”
Oh, Trick’s dirty-talking mouth. It used to embarrass the hell out of me to the point I’d recoil back in my shell. Not any longer. Now it makes my insides clench for his mouth on me. I lean back a tick, give him a smirk, then lay my lips on his.
I need a taste of the man. I hold tight to the back of his neck, wrapping my legs around his middle, and go about getting my fill of Trick. His lips part for me. I take full advantage, tangling my tongue with his. A moan escapes the same moment a cheer from the crowd erupts.
Trick pulls back first. Our lips brush against each other as he speaks. “I think I’m hogging the birthday girl.”
“I’m okay with that.” I peck his lips.
“Go before I do march your sweet ass out of this place.” Trick sets me down, making sure I’m steady before letting go. He adjusts the bulge in his jeans, making me smirk.
All too soon I’m wrapped up in a hug from all my friends at the center. I never get the chance to order our meal. However, a large bowl of salad with tender strips of medium steak on top is handed to me by Trick. He sends me a wink then takes a seat at a booth with his brothers. They all have enormous steaks in front of them. I stab at the salad while chatting.
A tug on my shorts gets my attention. I peer down to sweet Belle, who has her hands clasped together in a pleading gesture. “Cake! Cake! Cake!”
“You have to wait.” Layla scoops her up. “Let Mack enjoy the party, sugar butt. You’ll be fine.”
Belle’s little lip pops out when Layla taps her on the end of her nose. It begins to tremble, and I cave in, marching over to the towering doughnut cake and plucking one from the top. Her eyes light up when she spots me coming back with a doughnut.
“It’s a party. Eat all you want.” I hand her the doughnut. Her greedy little fingers snag it.
Layla growls. “You’re as bad as the rest of them. She runs all of us, and when she gets sick, she’s all yours.”
I beam back at Layla. “I’ll gladly take her.”
Letty requests some dancing music, and it’s on. We groove to an array of music from classics to downright dirty rap songs. I’m out of breath and ready to cuddle on Trick’s lap when “Perfect” by Ed Sheeran starts playing. I never get the chance to escape because Trick has me in his arms leading us into a slow, intimate dance.
“Requested this one for you.” He drops his forehead to mine.
“I need heels to dance with you,” I respond.
“Nope, you’re perfect the way you are.”
Screwing up our tempo, I perch up on my tiptoes and place a kiss on his chin. “This is a first for me.”
“Dancing?” He quirks up an eyebrow.
“Slow dancing with a man I love,” I correct him.
The smile that spreads across his face warms me from head to toe. We remain silent, letting the words of the song lead us. I never want it to end. I could kiss whoever is in control of the music when slow song after slow song serenades us.
“Time for cake,” Trick whispers in my ear. “I mean doughnuts.”
His smile tickles my skin. I nuzzle into his chest, not ever wanting another doughnut, only to stay in his arms forever.
When I don’t respond, Trick speaks again. “C’mon, birthday girl.”
He reaches down and squeezes my ass then takes his hat from his head and plops it on mine backward, just the way he always wears it. I’m whirled around with Trick’s chest pressed against my backside. He keeps his arms wrapped around me as he guides us to the cake.
Layla’s busy with lighting all the candles. The group convenes around the towering beauty.
Gene clinks a butter knife against a clear glass, getting everyone’s attention. “To my beautiful girl, Mack. I don’t have any words right now. I never thought I’d see the day where you’d realize how incredibly beautiful and lovable you are. You were always the sunshine in Wilma’s and my world.”
He pauses, clearing his throat, trying his best to rid the emotion from his speech. Tears well in his loving eyes, which in turn makes my skin prickle with love and pride.
“Our hearts were shattered by our son, but then you came into our life. I’ll never forget the little girl who would be curled up in the backyard with her nose in a book. Some days we would see you reading a phone book, a health and medicine digest, and anything you could get your hands on. Mack, we may not be blood-related, but we are family. We love each other unconditionally.”
He sends me a wink. My friends and family erupt in cheers. Before I have a chance to respond or untangle myself from Trick’s arms, Jag belts out the first few words of a song.
Trick leans in, brushing his lips against the shell of my ear with each word. It’s embarrassing as hell to have all the attention on me. It’s overwhelming and simply the best thing that’s ever happened in my life. I’m not shy about the tears that spill down my face.
“Wish!” Belle claps once the song is over.
I lean forward, close my eyes, make a wish, and blow out the candles. Cheers go up all around us, then Trick dishes out doughnuts to everyone.
“What did you wish for?” Trick spins me around.
“Can’t tell you. It’s a secret.” I brush my finger along his strong jawline.
“Give me a hint.”
I chew the inside of my cheek before responding. “You. Me. Giving you everything tonight.”
Chapter 17
Trick
I’ll never be able to explain the feeling after winning a fight. It’s surreal. You push your body, abuse it, and sometimes you lose and other times don’t. Those moments when you come out on top are a rush of sensations that make you feel like a fucking king. I’ve only experienced that in the octagon until tonight.
Mack scared the shit out of me when she started backing up. My gut knew she was going to run. In fact, the opposite happened. She lived up the night, not once hesitating. The woman blossomed in front of everyone around her. And after the wish she shared with me, I’m ready to get the fuck out of here.
“A birthday shot?” Layla holds out a shot glass filled with pink liquid.
“No, thank you,” Mack replies.
My chest puffs out with pride. Mack has shared with me that she’s never had the urge to drink. Considering her mother was an addict, she’s scared the same could happen to her.
“More for me.” Layla slams back the shot. “Belle is staying with Grandpa tonight which means—”
“Enough,” I growl, stepping up to the present table. “We don’t need details.”
Everyone gathers around as Mack takes a seat wrapped in a bright yellow bow. Layla had taken my cap off her head a bit ago and placed a delicate tiara on her head. Mack sits in the chair, her legs swinging, happiness on all her features with her dork glasses perched on her face. I’ve never seen anything so damn beautiful in my life.
She doesn’t hesitate as she shreds open her gifts. Man, the woman is well-loved. A brand-new iPad, clothes, gift cards, and jewelry surround her. I save my presents for last. I had thought about keeping one of them for later, then decided against it. Every shade and hue of yellow surrounds us. I have a sinking suspicion why it’s her favorite color, but she’s not yet shared with me the real reason why.
Mack shreds the wrapping paper on her first gift from me. She squeals once she peels back the lid of the box.
“What is it?” someone squeals.
Mack dips her hand in the box. Moments later, a neon canary-yellow pair of Converse dangle on her fingertips. I have no doubt the shoes she always wears now were once that color and not a muted butter hue. She leaps from the chair, wrapping her arms around my neck. It seems jumping into my chest and catching me off guard is Mack’s favorite trick.
“I love them.”
I chuckle over her enthusiasm about a new pair of shoes.
“You have one more.” I place her back down in the chair.
This present
has me swaying back and forth in nervousness. No clue why. Well, fuck, I do. If this party didn’t scare her away, this expensive present may be the straw that breaks the camel’s back. I struggle to find words to convey she should open it later. I’m too late as Mack rips away the wrapping paper.
She’s left with a square, black velvet box in the palm of her hand. The room quiets down to a hush. Mack glances up at me, trepidation dancing in her eyes. She begins nibbling on her bottom lip. It takes everything inside of me not to drop to one knee and reassure her everything will be fine. It would only add more attention to the moment.
After long, drawn-out seconds, Mack flips open the lid of the box and gasps. She slaps her hand over her mouth as expected. Other than that, I have no idea what she thinks. Everyone else waits in bated silence.
“Trick give you a cock ring to try out later?” Jag hollers out.
Everyone looks over at him to catch Cruz and Layla smacking the back of his head. Sunni rolls her eyes and shakes her head from her seat in a booth. She’s been rubbing her belly and wincing more often tonight than usual. When I asked her about it, I got the same speech she always gives on pregnancy.
A tug on my hand brings my attention back to Mack. I open my mouth to speak, but before I can get a word out, Mack is kissing the hell out of me. I grab her low on the back, pulling her into me. I roam my hand up the back of her neck. She tilts her head, giving me access to devour all of her.
“What is it?” someone hollers, breaking apart our moment.
I turn Mack around to face the crowd, keeping my hands hitched low around her front. She holds up the velvet box in trembling hands.
“Earrings. Yellow diamond studs.”
Everyone comes over to examine them. Some say their goodbyes while others begin cleaning up. Mack has been told to sit down at least ten times by this point. She can’t help it. It’s the way she ticks, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.
I toss the three lone doughnuts in the trash and gather up all of Mack’s presents in a large duffle bag. The black velvet box lies empty. Mack put her earrings in right away. I was shocked as shit as she tossed her old ones in the garbage can. A fucking symbolic action, a statement she made all on her own about her new life. I glance over my shoulder to see her bent over lacing up her new shoes, the old ones also tossed in a trash can.