Chapter 45
The bright redsign hung above the door of Peakside reflects in Garrison’s eyes as we stall a few steps away, my pink lipstick smeared across his mouth and foundation on his nose. His pupil-blown stare is enough of a confidence boost that I doubt I’ll need to hear another compliment for the rest of my life.
I ache between my legs, the orgasm I had in the car on the way here not enough to soothe me completely. I’ve never considered myself a buckle bunny despite my love of a man in boots and a cowboy hat, but for Garrison, I’d tattoo the name on my forehead and wear it with pride.
It took one look at him in his full cowboy attire to have me begging to be bent over the bed before we left home, but he was adamant about not being late. Luckily for me, he was generous enough to slide his hand down my pants on the ride over, but as I clench around nothing standing outside the bar, I think that may have actually made my arousal worse.
“I’m not going to take you in the alley again, Poppy. Stop looking at me like that,” he groans, shutting his eyes as his forehead rolls across mine.
“You didn’t say please.”
I dab my thumb over the lipstick on his mouth and feel the small section of swollen skin from my sharp nip earlier. Maybe I shouldn’t have all but mauled him outside of the bar the moment we stepped out of the car, but I couldn’t help it. From the desperate exploration of his hands over my ass as I did so, it seemed like he was enjoying himself just as much as I was.
Good. I hope he’s hard enough for his cock to crack stone while we’re inside. Then we’ll be even.
“Please,” he whispers.
“No.”
His eyes shoot open, somehow darker now than they were a second ago. “Fine.”
The roughness of his voice sends shivers down my spine. I take a step back and grab his hand before flashing a wink and pulling the door open.
For once, I’m not the last one to arrive at a Friday night get-together. Bryce is already at our table, sitting across from Brody, Anna, and a blonde woman who has to be Aurora, the new girl in town. My brother and Johnny are nowhere in sight.
“Hi, guys,” I say, tightening my hold on Garrison’s hand as we head to the table.
I can tell he’s a bit uncomfortable right now, but the fact he’s here and didn’t try to put up a sliver of a fight when I asked him to come means everything to me. This group can be scary as hell, and while he may have joined us out a couple of times prior to our getting together, tonight is completely different.
He’s here with me tonight. As my boyfriend. Not just a Steele Ranch employee or Johnny’s friend.
Everyone at the table fits their eyes on us, and I lead Garrison to Bryce’s side of the booth. We slide in beside her, and I squish right up against Bryce, the booth far too narrow for all three of us to be comfortable. Nobody moves, though, as if that doesn’t matter.
Everyone says their hellos as I rest my hand on Garrison’s thigh. He flips it over before linking our fingers again. His thumb traces the knuckles, and I go lax at the caring touch.
“You’re on time tonight,” Bryce tells me.
She looks much more like herself tonight as to opposed to the other day in the studio. Gone is the ugly skirt and tight blouse. The cropped tee and high-waisted distressed denim skirt she changed into tonight is her style. With her tattoos exposed and thick black hair down over her shoulders instead of tied back, she’s a total knockout.
“You can all thank Garrison for that,” I reply.
As if reminded that I didn’t arrive here alone, Brody fixes Garrison beneath a stern stare and leans against the back of his seat, one arm thrown over Anna’s shoulder like normal.
Anna stares up at him, a look in her eyes that speaks to the love between them. It’s hard to remember the woman she was when she arrived in Cherry Peak. She hasn’t changed who she is fundamentally; instead, she just became her full self. Learned who she wanted to be and accepted it.
Pulling her gaze from her man, she glances between me and mine. “Thank you, Garrison.”
“She doesn’t make it easy,” he replies.
I suck air between my teeth. “That’s rude.”
His thumb continues to sweep across the back of my head. “You know it’s true.”
“Maybe so. But let’s not focus on me,” I rush out, focusing on the new face at our table. “I’m Poppy. You’re Aurora, right?”
“Rory,” she says with a nod.
“Well, Rory, this is Garrison, my boyfriend. I’m sorry if he seems a bit prim and proper. He’s still adapting to Cherry Peak.”
“Good to meet you,” Garrison says, ignoring my tease in a way that lets me know I’ll be paying for it later.
I’ll add it to the list of things I’ll be getting punished for tonight. Maybe I’ll make a game out of it.
Rory nods. “It’s nice to meet you both.”
She spreads her plump lips into a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. It’s dull and pinched at the corners. For the second time since learning about her, I feel a spike of concern, knowing damn well it’s not my place.
It’s unfair for her eyes to be so sad, considering they’re the prettiest shade of blue I’ve ever seen. Come to think of it, she may be one of the most beautiful women to have stumbled into this town. Her strong bone structure has me in genuine awe, making it hard not to stare at her like a complete creep.
Her hair is a dirty blonde with a series of different highlights and curled to utter perfection. It’s hard to tell with the table between us, but I think we have similar body types. The eyes that I wish weren’t so sad are a steely blue, similar to the colour of the ocean in a rough storm.
“I was telling Rory before you got here that you might be able to squeeze her into one of the upcoming classes next week. If she’s interested, that is,” Anna says.
I nod and offer her a smile. “I’ll take a look at the schedule and let you know. Don’t feel pressured, though. Pole isn’t for everyone, and that’s totally okay.”
“What made you want to create a pole studio?” Rory asks, tone blunt.
I force myself not to let my surprise show at her question, keeping my expression neutral, kind. “Well, I grew up as a bigger girl and never felt like I had a safe space to exercise. Especially not here or any of the cities close enough to drive to every day. I was in Calgary with Bryce a few years ago, and we stumbled upon a pole studio there. For the first time in my life, I felt empowered while working out. Like I was doing something that just spoke to my soul. We got back home, and I took out a loan from the bank and created Beautifully Bold.”
It’s a very watered-down version of the story, but I doubt she wants to hear about how many banks I went through to get an approval for my idea or how broke I was after quitting my job at the post office and putting every hour of every day into creating my company.
“In other words, she’s a kick-ass businesswoman who goes after whatever it is she wants. Garrison is a lucky son of a bitch,” Bryce chimes in.
Rory’s smile grows slightly. “It would appear so.”
“In a perfect world, I’d be able to expand and open more than the single Beautifully Bold location to give more women the chance to join, but that isn’t possible here,” I admit.
“Could there ever be the opportunity of a second location here?” Garrison asks.
Brody answers for me. “Town’s too small. Maybe in fifteen years, but even that is a long shot.”
“It’s unfair,” Anna mutters.
Garrison’s thumb stalls its sweeping motion, and I look up at him in question. He’s frowning at the table, appearing deep in thought. “What about in the cities nearby?”
“None outside of Calgary would be worth the cost of expanding, and that’s three hours away still. I couldn’t manage both locations the way I’d want to,” I say.
The music playing in the bar grows in volume, and I watch as a handful of the other people out tonight slide out of their seats and move to the dance floor. Or what we consider to be one. It’s not much more than a big square at the back of the bar without tables. The wood floor is worn down badly in that section compared to everywhere else, marking it as the official dance area.
“Are you much of a dancer, Rory?” I ask, changing the subject to something far less depressing.
“Don’t think about it, Pops. Last time you hauled us all up to dance, your brother broke his ankle,” Bryce says.
Brody laughs. “That had more to do with how much rum he drank prior to dancing.”
“Plus, he’s not even here yet,” I add.
Garrison slides his fingers free from between mine, opting to hold my knee instead. The subtle switch draws my eyes up to catch his.
“I don’t know how to dance.”
“Can I teach you?”
We stare at each other for a long moment as he finds his answer. I don’t want to push him too far too soon. If he’s truly uncomfortable, then I won’t move from this spot all night as long as he keeps touching me.
His tongue darts out, a brief flash against his full lips, before he finds his voice, a husky whisper that sends shivers through me.
“Yeah, honey, you can teach me to dance. Just don’t let me make a complete fool of myself in front of everyone. I’d never hear the end of it.”
Before I can think twice about it, I’m cupping his cheek and twisting his head so I can plant a big, fat kiss on his mouth. Love swells and crashes against me without a care about how easily I’m swept beneath its waves, left tumbling underwater with nowhere to go but up, to him.
I’m so in love with this man. Absolutely gone for him without a goddamn care in the world for what comes next. Not right now, right here.
The second our lips separate, I’m urging him up and out of the booth and taking his hand again to lead him to the dance floor. I hear Anna telling Brody and Bryce to follow us before the music is too loud to hear them.
A few steps from the dance floor, I catch sight of Darren slipping in through the entrance. His eyes scan the bar before landing on me and Garrison. He pivots and heads right for us.
“Ready to break the other ankle tonight, Darren?” Brody shouts over the music, snagging my brother’s attention.
Darren grins wildly as he moves toward him. “I’m just here to supervise,” he says, but I know better than to believe that.
I take advantage of his distraction and let the music drift over my skin as we move to the side of all the other dancers. The country song playing is quick enough to show Garrison the basics, but as a few of the people around us start showing off a complicated version of the two-step, he grows stiff.
“I can’t two-step to save my life. I figured we’d start with a basic line dance before I let you sway with me for the rest of the night,” I tease.
He relaxes, the tension in his shoulders disappearing. The twinkle in his eyes is still very much there, though. It hasn’t left all week.
“Go ahead, then. Show me what to do.”
The steps are easy. A few toe and heel taps and a couple of spins. He follows along eagerly, his lack of experience not making a lick of a difference with how easy it is for him to pick up the moves. It’s not surprising that he’s a quick learner. The man could do anything he wanted to without a sweat. It’s partially why he’s so arrogant. He has a right to be most of the time.
We’re a few minutes into the dance when Johnny rushes by, appearing out of who knows where. Brody and Anna are on our left, Brody having already taught her how to two-step as they show off to everyone. A rough laugh escapes me when I see my brother attempting to help Bryce complete a spin but instead getting met with a scowl.
Garrison chuckles when Johnny goes up to Rory and offers her his hand. She’s the only one of us who didn’t leave the table, but I can’t say I blame her for not feeling comfortable enough yet to join us all. We’re intimidating even when we try not to be.
“He’s going to get rejected,” I say.
My boyfriend reaches for my shoulder and steps into my space. “One thousand percent.”
“Should we go save him from the embarrassment?” I suggest, letting my hands glide up the solid muscles of his arms, feeling the heat of his skin through the thin fabric of his shirt until they come to rest behind his neck.
We both glance toward the table, and Garrison sputters a laugh. My lips part on air.
Rory’s eyes are wide as Johnny takes her hands and tugs her out of her seat. She mutters something to him that I wish I could hear before he’s shaking his head and pulling her into his arms, swaying with her in the narrow, empty space between tables.
“Think she’ll smack him?” Garrison asks.
I wait for it, but it doesn’t come. While she’s clearly reluctant, she stops fighting him and drops a hand to his shoulder, the other still in his grip.
“Shit. He’s never going to let this one go,” I say.
“He’ll be insufferable.”
“It’s a good thing we have each other to get through it with, then.”
Garrison palms my hips and drops his head, his breath whispering across my mouth. “Thank fucking God.”
And then we’re kissing, dancing lessons completely forgotten.