Chapter 20
TWENTY
KARL
She looks absolutely scandalized when I accuse her of keeping me up all night. “Me?”
“Your existence is rather enticing, especially when you’re doing it naked. Quick, get dressed, or we’ll need to pay for another night.” I give her bare ass a quick spank and soak in the little squeal she releases as she shoots away from me.
“I’m going to shower,” she says, turning back to me as she reaches the bathroom door, and I watch her back through it, a dare in her eyes.
She should know by now that I don’t take dares lightly, and when it comes to her, I’m going to take that dare every single time.
When I stand, she takes a nice long look and then crooks her finger, beckoning me.
I follow, only stopping to grab the final condom from my bag before stepping under the hot water with her.
“We’ve got to have the cows out of the barn tomorrow, so we’ll go back to Toronto after we check out and start getting things wrapped up there,” I start to explain while trying not to be distracted by the way Nancy delicately peels her croissant apart.
She eats like she went to school to learn how to do it.
On one hand she’s all prim and proper, but on the other she’s suggesting we take in the falls from our balcony in only our robes, which I learned quickly was due to their easy access.
I couldn’t tell what the falls look like, but I could tell you that my wife has a little mole above her left butt cheek.
“And then?” she asks, drawing her legs up underneath herself and tilting her head, and I realize I’ve been daydreaming about her arched against the balcony railing.
“Well…” Then? Once during a labor-market issues course, there were two hawks in a battle royal right outside the window, and that wasn’t nearly as distracting as Nancy sitting across from me wearing the same robe from last night.
Then what? Then, I don’t know, we live in the bedroom and hope food and water miraculously appear?
“Then we g—”
“Home?” she finishes for me.
“Yeah.”
“And how are you breaking the news to your parents?”
I haven’t even thought of that yet. “How are you breaking it to yours? Do you want to go to the palace to…” I trail off as Nancy’s already shaking her head.
“Maybe right before we leave. I’m honestly surprised there hasn’t been a missing person alert.” She giggles nervously. “If I was my mother’s backup horse, there would have been one by now.”
“To be fair, a horse on the loose seems like it could be a danger to society.”
Her laughter changes to something more genuine. “That’s true. I’m not that.”
“Just a danger to my ability to get any work done when we get home.”
When we’re heading to the highway, Nancy gasps, and I automatically pull onto the gravel shoulder and slam on the brakes.
“What?” I reach for her, ready to do a thorough search to make sure she’s okay.
She looks over at me, eyes wide, hand over her mouth, and I think she’s about to tell me she’s going to throw up.
“We didn’t have a first dance,” she whispers, dropping her hand as her shoulders droop.
I look from her to the road and back. It’s a good thing I decided to take the scenic route and not the highway because there are no other cars around.
She seems to realize what just happened as I’m processing it. “Oh my god, I didn’t mean to be so dramatic.” She turns and looks out the back window, her forehead falling against it with a light thump. “I’m so embarrassed,” she groans, melting into the seat as if she’s trying to disappear.
I collect myself, feeling my heart rate slow.
She’s right, we definitely didn’t have a first dance, but it’s not like we have done things by the book.
She didn’t throw the bouquet, we didn’t cut a cake, and we didn’t have any family in attendance.
But if she wants a first dance, I’m not going to deny her.
There’s a field to the left and a short driveway leading to it, so I pull in and park.
“What are you doing?” she asks.
I lean forward and turn up the radio, which has been acting as white noise since we got in the truck ten minutes ago.
“I’m going to find a first dance song.” Nearly every station is commercials, so I set it to one of the most popular stations.
“Would you mind opening the window?” I direct, and Nancy complies without asking why, making quick work of the task.
Hopping out, I close my door and round the truck.
Nancy is halfway out when I reach her and take her hand to help her the rest of the way down.
Then I lean in and crank the volume. An ad for a local dealership blasts through the speakers, and I back away quickly, shutting the door and pulling Nancy a few feet in front of the truck.
“The first song that comes on will be our song,” I inform her, lifting her left hand to my neck and taking her right in mine, positioning us for a waltz rather than an awkward school dance.
She watches me intently. “I thought you were about to kick me out of the truck and leave me here,” she breathes out, clearly relieved.
“Never,” I assure her, holding her tightly against my body, hoping my body heat helps keep her warm enough.
The DJ’s voice blasts through the speakers, announcing that the next song is a Canadian classic, and I cross my fingers, hoping it’s something by Bryan Adams or The Tragically Hip. It’s not.
Nancy throws her head back and cackles as the first chords of “If I Had A Million Dollars” filter through the open window.
“Maybe we should wait for the next song?” I suggest.
“No way, Mr. Hore,” she scolds, already taking the lead, forcing me to move with her. “This song is surprisingly romantic.”
And so for the next four and a half minutes, Nancy and I have our first official dance as husband and wife to the upbeat tones of The Barenaked Ladies.
“Thank fuck you’re back,” Matt hisses when we walk into the trailer later that night.
“What’s up?” I ask, directing Nancy to sit while I stack our bags inside the door.
Matt offers Nancy a kind smile and an awkward wave, then directs a steely glare in my direction. “I’ve been hiding in here because someone’s sister isn’t exactly thrilled about your little trip. She acted like I’m the one who wrote the resignation on the hotel notepad.”
“I should go find her,” Nancy announces, standing abruptly.
I reach out and stop her when she’s in front of me. “You don’t have to.”
“No.” She sighs. “I do, and the sooner I get it over with, the better. At the very least, no one will be harassing your brother for our remaining time here.”
She’s got her jaw set, and although I still don’t know her that well, I can tell she’s made up her mind about this. “Alright, let’s go.”
“You don’t have to come. It’s going to be… well, I don’t know how it’s going to be, brutal for sure. I just don’t know if it’s going to be loud brutal or quiet brutal.”
I level her with a look. “Nancy, if we’re going to do this husband and wife thing, it’s going to be as a team. If you’re going into battle, you better accept that I’ll be going in with you.”
Matt sucks in a breath and mutters something I don’t quite catch. I can deal with him later. Right now I need to suit up for war with Nancy’s family.
Nancy’s eyes fill with tears, and she lets out a quiet thank you.
“We’ll be back in a bit, and then maybe we can grab dinner, just the three of us.”
Matt offers a curt nod, and then I turn and follow Nancy out of the trailer. When she grabs my hand, she holds on as if I’m the only thing keeping her on the ground.
The Horse Palace is a far cry from the livestock barn.
It smells like horses, of course, but the rich scent of leather and hay is almost equal in strength.
We walk by row after row of stalls, then head up a ramp to the second floor.
I may not pay attention to the sport of show jumping, but I do know that this show brings out Olympians, and I’m somewhat distracted by the elaborate displays various barns have out.
Everything is branded and shiny, and more than one has what appears to be a town square setup.
Horses so shiny you can see your reflection in their flanks stand at attention between crossties, and people wearing more money on their feet than I’ll ever have in my bank account wander about chatting.
A couple say a polite hello to Nancy without sparing me a glance as we walk by, but she barely nods back. My wife is on a mission.
I know when we’ve reached the right row because Nancy’s hand tightens even more in my grasp, and she takes a deep breath, steeling herself as she steps forward.
A woman walks through a set of curtains and stops dead when she sees us.
Her sharp blue eyes snag on where our hands are joined before they land squarely on Nancy.
Even without the look of disapproval on her face, I know it’s Nancy’s mother.
She’s an older, colder version of my wife.
So cold, I swear the ice forms on the floor beneath her feet as she stands there waiting for us to approach.
I have a sudden urge to bow. There is something regal about her despite the fact she’s standing there in tall black boots, white breeches, and a fitted coat branded with the same initials splashed across every movable object in our vicinity.
“Nancy,” she sneers as if speaking to the help. “Where have you been?”
“Getting married,” Nancy replies without skipping a beat.
I expect to see her eyes widen in shock, but they do the opposite. She assesses her daughter through shrewd, narrowed eyes, her lip curling as the air cools around us, which is probably just a coincidence. “Excuse me?”
“I got married. I’m married.”
“To?” Her mother asks, not bothering to look at me.
“Karl Hore.”
She laughs then, a single cruel syllable that makes me want to pick Nancy up and run away. “Don’t be ridiculous, Nancy. You’re not married.”
Nancy looks up at me, her forehead pinched in a question. “We signed those papers, right?” I nod. “And mailed them right after?”
“Licked the envelope myself,” I assure her.
“And I said all those things, and you said them back?”
“The I dos and until death do us parts?” Her chin dips. “Yeah, dearest, we said all the things.” I get one more smile before she directs her attention back at her mother.
“Married,” she pulls her hand from mine and holds it up, the gold band glinting around her finger.
The only change in her mother’s face is a slight flare of her nostrils as her eyes stay glued to Nancy’s hand until she drops it back into mine.
“Well, it has only been a few hours. I’ll have your father call Pearce, and he’ll sort it out. This will just be another story to tell later on.”
Another story to tell? Oh, hell no.
“The only story we’ll be telling”—I stand taller as I finally address my mother-in-law—“is ours to our children, and I’ll be sure to leave out the part where I cared about their mother more in four days than in the twenty-three years their grandmother had.”
Those sharp eyes slide slowly from my head to my toes and back up, then she looks back at Nancy. “Are you going to let this boy you picked up with the pigs speak to me like that?”
Nancy’s face is set in a hard grimace, an angry red rising below the surface of her skin, and I wonder if I’ve gone too far.
But then she takes a deep breath. “I don’t let him do anything.
He’s his own person, as am I. Now if you’ll excuse us, we have newlywed things to do.
” She looks up at me and smiles. “Let’s go, husband,” she says with a soft tug, and we turn and head back down the aisle.
“Oh!” she exclaims, looking back over her shoulder.
“I picked him up with the cows.” She leans into me cackling, tugging me faster as we run down the ramp and back out of the Horse Palace.
She’s still laughing as we walk through the convention hall. “Oh my god, I can’t believe I did that.”
“Not going to lie, it was pretty hot.”
“You think so?” she asks.
“Oh yeah, I think you may get lucky tonight,” I declare, popping my eyebrows.
A concerned look crosses her face, and my laughter stops immediately. “What?”
“We’re sharing a trailer with your brother, right?”
Damn, she’s right. I groan, my head tipping back. “Tomorrow, I guess. Tomorrow you’ll get lucky.”
“When do we leave?”