Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Mary London
My phone rings right as I’m grabbing my keys to head to the bar.
It’s Sunday afternoon, but Rhett texted me that the mechanical bull got delivered and I’m too excited to wait for tomorrow.
Things are coming along right on schedule, which has me a bit nervous.
There has to be a hitch, there’s always a hitch.
As I look at the phone screen, this might just be the hitch in my giddy-up.
“Hello, Birdie. Did I leave something at church?”
“You sure did, honey. You left out all the details!” Her loud voice rings in my ear. She must be back at home because she’s normally a little more stealthy in her collection of gossipy tidbits.
“About the bar? Well, we did just get the mechanical bull delivered,” I drawl, knowing damn well the woman wants to know about Rhett.
“Don’t make me work for it, honey. I’m old and ornery and haven’t got the patience of a young thing like you. Give me all the goods about that fine young man and I’ll leave you in peace. Last thing you need is a visit where I sit on y’all’s porch and outstay my welcome.”
Well, she’s got me there. Her visits are often long, and usually enjoyable, but she’s right. I don’t have the time for a lengthy social call. I sigh, which makes her cackle, knowing she’s won.
“Fine. Yes, Rhett and I are dating. No, I haven’t abused that circumstance to get some kind of discount on my build-out. No, I’m not sure where it’s all going, but yes, I’m very happy right now.”
“Tha’s a nice little summary, honey, thank you, but you know your aunt Birdie wants the juicy bits too.
When and how did things start? Does he do more than grunt a word or two when you’re alone?
That sexy glower thing he’s got going on is lovely, but I imagine a sunshiney thing like you needs some actual communication too.
” She gasps. “Or maybe no words are needed, if you know what I mean?”
I do know what she means, and it’s making me blush. My brain instantly goes back to that alleyway and the way we both were reduced to grunts as our form of communication.
“He’s very good at communicating. He just doesn’t like most people.”
Birdie laughs. “I kind of like that about him.”
“Me too.” I twirl my keys around my finger and look out my window at the treetops turning gorgeous colors. “Honestly, I really like him, Birdie. He’s so different from men I’ve dated before and it’s refreshing.”
“Like a sip of sweet tea on a stifling summer day, right?”
“Exactly.”
Birdie takes a deep breath. “Okay, so since this is more than a passing fling, let’s talk about your daddy. How’re things there? He hates ol’ Gunnar Price with the passion of a preacher on Easter morning.”
I suppress a giggle. That’s one way to put it. “He does. He and ’em had a bit of a scuffle at Thanksgiving, but I told Daddy where I stood and he left. Haven’t heard from him since.”
Birdie tutted. “That man needs to get over it. Might be time for ol’ Birdie to have a word.”
“Whatever you can do, I’d be appreciative. I don’t want this distance between us, but I can’t let Daddy get away with that behavior either.”
“No! ’Course you cain’t, child! Your mama always kept him in line, but without her he’s off his rocker. Leave it to Aunt Birdie.”
“Thank you.”
“You bet. Now make sure you come to me first in the future, huh? Can’t help if I don’t know whas’ going on.”
“Will do. I promise.”
We hang up and I hustle out to the car to head to the bar.
Having Birdie on my side is advantageous in many ways.
She’ll go to bat for me with Daddy, with the bar, and anything else I do if I play my cards right.
All she asks is for gossip in return. It’s the currency of the South, honey, and I’m ashamed I didn’t think of it sooner.
There’s plenty of parking when I get to the Square.
Many businesses are closed on the Lord’s day, including my boutique.
Rhett’s waiting for me at the door when I arrive, pulling me inside and locking the door behind us.
Then he pushes me up against the new bar and kisses me like he’s been starving for days, despite seeing me just a few hours ago at church.
“Missed you,” he whispers against my lips, hands gripping my hips while his eyes darken under the brim of his hat.
“Missed you too,” I answer honestly, but pushing him back so I can step around the bar and see the mechanical bull. “Let me get a view of this bad boy and then we can return to all of that.”
The mechanical bull is glorious with its leather flanks, realistic rope handle, and even a set of horns that spell trouble if you fly over the front.
The smell of leather has now permeated the whole bar, both from the mechanical bull and the leather cowhide wingback chair that’s holding court in the corner.
I step up into the ring, wobbling a bit on the cushioning as it gives under my weight.
“Want to give it the inaugural ride?” Rhett asks, grinning as he leans on the wood fence he built for it. The buttons for the ride are on display in a plexiglass box.
I glance over at him, feeling giddy seeing my dream come to life. “You haven’t tried it yet?”
Rhett shakes his head, cowboy hat fitting right in. “Heck no. That’s your ride, June bug.”
Thankful I was cold this morning and decided to wear pants, I step into the holster and swing a leg over. Takes me a few adjustments to feel like I’m seated properly, but when I’m ready I give Rhett a thumbs up.
“Remember, fall away from it.” He seems nervous to press that red button.
My heart’s pounding with excitement. “Let ’er rip!”
Rhett cracks up and then makes a big show of pushing the button.
The vibration of the beast below me hits me first. Then he starts to slowly move back and forth, up and down, then spins quickly, making me whoop with joy.
I hold my one hand in the air just like I’ve seen in the movies.
My legs grip for all they’re worth and my hand is already numb from holding that rope for dear life.
I make it all of six seconds before I fly off and land in a heap on the cushioned floor.
I roll and jump to my feet, whooping and hollering.
“That was so fun! Do it again!”
I look over to see Rhett recording the whole thing on his phone.
He puts it down and obliges me, waiting for me to mount the beast again before he pushes the red button.
I last eight seconds that time, according to the red numbers on the wall that start when Rhett pushes the button.
I’m breathless and grinning so hard my cheeks hurt when I get to my feet.
“You gotta try this, ’Lanta!”
Rhett enters the ring and swoops me off my feet in a bear hug. “Later,” is all he says, marching me right off the mats and over to the bar. He drops me to my feet and spins me around, my back now to his front. “Do you like this shirt?”
I look down, confused. “I mean, I’ve had it a couple seasons. Why?”
Rhett releases my hips to grab the hemline and whip it over my head, tossing it who knows where.
“I’ll buy you a new one,” he grumbles, pressing my upper body down to the bar top, which is covered with a drop cloth and a million little construction things.
Desire rushes through me, mixing with the heady rush of riding the bull.
Cool stacks of tile dig into my cheek and I’m pretty sure a thick yellow construction pencil is trying to wiggle its way into my bra.
I open my mouth to mention it, but Rhett’s on a mission and I, for one, don’t want to stop him.
My pants suddenly drop to my ankles and Rhett’s hands scrape up my bare thighs.
“I love this lace.” His voice scrapes as much as the callouses on his hands as he plays with the thong panties I chose to wear today. Before I can tell him I wore them just for him, he rips them off my body and shoves them in his pocket.
I gape at him over my shoulder. His eyelids are heavy as he glares at me, daring me to complain. His gaze sweeps over my face and what little of my torso he can see in this position.
“You’ve got drywall and sawdust all over you, June bug.”
An equally dirty smile grows on my face. The man is fully dressed in his Sunday best and I’ve only got a bra on, my ass pressed against the stiff fly of his jeans. “You like me dirty?”
Instead of answering me, he leans over me and runs his thumb along my bottom lip, then smears the lipstick across my cheek before coming back to my mouth and forcing my lips open.
I suck on his thumb, wiggling my hips. Why is it so freaking sexy when he messes me up?
I can feel him fumbling with his jeans while my tongue flicks his thumb.
His groan is all vibration in the quiet nothingness of this bar.
He pops his thumb from my mouth and reaches around me to press it against my already aching clit.
I whimper, needing him to fill me. To put me out of my misery and give me that orgasm that’s just outside my reach.
This is hotter than the alleyway. It’s still daylight out.
Anyone walking by could press their face against the glass and see what we’re up to.
Knowing how exposed we are just makes it that much hotter.
Rhett leaves my clit, making me cry out.
“Easy, baby,” he murmurs, hands spreading my cheeks and then he’s nudging at my entrance, sliding inside me in fits and starts until his body’s pressed fully against my backside.
My forehead drops to the bar top with a thump.
My muscles have gone weak. Rhett crowds me into the bar, small, desperate thrusts as he keeps me covered from head to toe in a half-standing, half-bent-over position.
His thumb comes back to my clit and I’m instantly breaking apart, fully held down, stretched deep and wide while this man takes me however he wants.
He’s cooing in my ear, nonsense words as he holds me in place. His thrusts get harder, more desperate, but he never lets me slide to the floor. Soon, he’s shaking, everything freezing as I feel him pulse inside of me. The bar presses into me, surely leaving a bruise or two, but I don’t care.
Just as quickly as he came, Rhett pulls out of me and crouches to pull my pants back up.
He reaches around to zip me up and mumbles an apology about my panties.
Feeling like my limbs might actually work now, I straighten up from the bar and turn around, looking down at the mess on my torso.
He’s right. I’ve got construction dust all over me.
Rhett curses under his breath and tracks down my blouse. It also has sawdust all over it. He tries shaking it out, but the little flakes of wood cling on.
“It’s fine,” I tell him, but he’s still shaking his head. “I said I’d buy you a new one and I will.”
I grab his hands and stop him, making him look me in the eye. “It’s fine, Rhett. I love when you lose control. I don’t care that I’m a mess or that my shirt might have to go in the trash.”
He winces, but finally nods. “Better get you home and in the shower before it starts to itch.”
I don’t let his hands go though. “Hey. Thanks for the ride.” I grin up at him, feeling so dang happy I’m not sure how to contain it all. “Both of them.”
He ducks his head like he’s shy, which makes me smile all the more. The man just banged me against the bar and now he’s acting all shy? When he lifts his head again, his jaw shifts back and forth, like he’s thinking something through.
“What is it?” I ask gently. I want him to be able to talk to me about anything.
His blue eyes bore into mine before he nods his head. Like he’s made a decision. “I love you.”
That’s it. Just a simple profession of his feelings. Out there in the open.
My heart rate dips and then soars into the heavens. I don’t think about the repercussions, I don’t wonder what the perfect answer to this statement would be. I just feel it. I let it wash over me. I let this man’s love for me settle into my soul like a thick blanket offered on a snowy day.
“I love you too.”
My hands let go of his and settle on his shoulders.
I jump, legs wrapping around his waist. He grunts in surprise, but catches me, his hands on my ass, twirling us around.
My fingers dive into his hair and knock his hat off.
It clatters to the wood floor, but neither of us care, because our lips find each other.
We’re just two people never meant for each other and yet fitting perfectly in all the ways that actually matter.
“I love you,” he says again, wonder in his tone.
“I love you,” I say right back, meaning every word.
He sets me on the bar, hands groping, lungs heaving, lips searching for any flesh we can find.
It’s desperate and yet also calm, like we both need each other like we need air to breathe, but we’re in this for the long haul.
We haven’t discussed what this means, but we both know we’re thinking of forever.
We only come up for air when my cell phone rings down the bar, from the depths of my hand bag, startling us both.
Rhett takes one step back, scrubbing his hand over his face and blinking like he’s not sure what day it is. “We need to get you in the shower.”
“Yes, please.” I hop down from the bar and pull the wrecked blouse over my head. Rhett tries to wipe the dust off my face and fix the lipstick he mussed, but I know I still look a fright.
I also don’t care.
And that feels like the second most astonishing thing I’ve discovered here in my bar this afternoon.
My phone rings again, and this time, I pick it up, even though the caller is someone I don’t wish to speak to right now. He’s still my father, and if he’s called me twice in a row, something might be wrong.
“Hello, Daddy,” I say cautiously.
Rhett threads his fingers through mine and tugs us out the door.