23. 23
23
Chastity slipped out of Rachel’s sedan onto the frost-stiff dead grass. The late spring night still had a bite to it. Fogged breath oozed from their cherry-red lipstick-covered mouths. Rachel was dressed like a sexy feline. It was as if she were the lead actor in a strip club presentation of the musical CATS.
Chastity wore a Little Red Riding Hood get-up. She donned a short, red cloak, hem so high up her thighs it barely covered her rear. Cleavage peeked out over the top of her ruffled, white sleeveless blouse, cinched at the waist by a corset. Red thigh-highs were held in place by garters. A pair of worn, white cowboy boots met them in the middle of her shin.
Flickering lights glinted through the worn slats on the side of the massive barn, coaxing the women in from the stirred-up dust of the dirt parking lot.
Several men laughed at the entrance of the barn door, each with a bottle of beer in their hands. As Chastity and Rachel approached, the men couldn’t keep their eyes off them. Chastity smiled bashfully at the much-needed attention.
Inside the barn, a wild, costumed party was in full swing. The interior was rustic. Streamers draped from the center of the ceiling to the walls. A twirling golden party light hung on a chain from the middle, spinning on a motor like a disco ball. The dirt floor was hard from the cold and packed tight from the foot traffic. Hay bales provided seating along the walls, and picnic tables were scattered along one side. In the middle, people line danced to a country song that blared from mounted speakers. Body heat and drunken laughter filled the space.
Against the back wall, a bartender in a Zorro mask noisily shook a cocktail shaker.
“Oooh. I see a bar. Want something?” Chastity asked.
“Nah, I’m gonna split off. Do a round. See what’s good. Try to do some recon on where the best beefcake is at.”
Chastity laughed, blew Rachel a kiss, and made her way through the costumed horde toward the bar. Stools made of halved whiskey barrels with wooden legs lined a bar inhabited by men in a variety of costumes.
She leaned over the worn wood to flirt with the bartender. Several of the men behind her eyed the bottom bit of her bare ass cheeks, now visible below the cape’s edge.
“Eyes forward if you wanna keep them in your fucking heads,” a familiar voice growled, a blanket threat to all the gawking patrons.
Chastity turned in time to see the men averting their gazes. She twisted toward the source of the stern order and felt a smile break out across her lips despite her desire to keep it stifled.
Barrett Andrews.
Small world.
Even smaller town…
There he stood, six-foot-four-inches of muscled physique in a leather jacket, tight black jeans, and white tee, hair slicked.
“Let me guess… Danny Zuko?” She smirked.
“Oddly enough, I came straight from work. I just cleaned a lady’s oven in this. Client was obsessed with Grease . She stood around watching me in a poodle skirt.”
“No, she didn’t.”
“I shit you not!” he exclaimed.
“In retrospect, Little Red, I should’ve come as a wolf because, God damn, you look good enough to eat .”
Heat bloomed in her belly when his eyes lingered on her.
“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked.
“ It’s an open bar , Stud ,” she said mockingly in the voice of Olivia-Newton. “They’re free.”
He put his hands up as if to say, ‘Well, excuse me.’
Chastity waved at the bartender. A few feet away, a man dressed in a deer onesie complete with felt antlers stared at her ass from his seat at the bar.
Seeing this, Barrett glared at him, teeth clenched. When their eyes met, Barrett shook his head. The deer tipped his bottle at Barrett and smiled wickedly.
Chastity leaned over the counter again, giggling with the bartender as he poured her a drink. The way her cloak bared the bottom of her shapely ass, exposing the thin strip of solid red thong beneath, made Barrett’s cock stiffen.
“You here with anyone?” Barrett asked, leaning in.
“This chick, Rachel. She’s around her someplace. How about you? You got a date?”
“Nope.” Barrett slicked the sides of his hairdo. “Zuko rides solo.”
“How’d you even hear about this? Aren’t you a little old for these kinds of parties?”
“Ouch!” He clutched at his heart. “Shots fired. Organ pierced. Man down.” Barrett took a fresh beer from behind the counter, laid it against the edge of the bar, and slammed his fist down, sending the cap flying into the hay behind the bar. “Jesus, Aphrodite. I’m only in my thirties .”
“ Mid -thirties.” Chastity snagged one of the whiskey barrel stools beside him, wincing as the cold wood touched her bare behind. “I was wondering how long it would be before I got to see you again.”
“I see you’re all set.” The bartender eyed the beer in Barrett’s hand, frustrated.
“You were busy. I thought I’d do you a solid. Can I also get two fingers of whiskey, please?”
The bartender nodded and put Chastity’s drink in front of her. “One long island, ma’am.”
“Thank you.” Chastity grabbed the beverage and turned to face Barrett.
A moment later, a glass with an inch of amber liquor was plopped in front of him. Barrett shoved a five-dollar bill in the man’s tip pitcher and slammed the whiskey, sliding the empty glass back and chasing it down with a swig of beer.
Barrett’s eyes skimmed every delicious inch of Chastity’s exposed skin. “I had a fantasy like this once.”
Chastity chuckled. “I’ll bet you did.”
Barrett leaned in closer, wanting nothing more than to slip his hand between her thighs and massage the sensitive spot between them right here in public as oblivious people mingled about.
“Who throws a costume party in a barn here in the spring? This is so bizarre.”
“I think it’s sweet,” Barrett said.
“You think what’s sweet?”
“You don’t know what this is for?”
She shook her head.
“City councilman renewed his vows. His wife apparently has pretty crippling social anxiety. Said being in costume is just about the only way she feels comfortable enough to be around people. So he organized this so they can celebrate, and she won’t stand out like a turd in a punch bowl.”
“Oh my God, that’s really nice,” Chastity cooed.
“That’s what love is supposed to look like. Being there for someone despite their flaws. You didn’t know that?”
Chastity smiled at the sentiment, warming at the thought of one day finding someone to accept her, diagnosis and all.
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t know what I thought this was. I heard open bar, and I just kinda jumped at the invite.”
Barrett laughed at that.
“Wait, how the hell do you know all that?”
Barrett used the neck of his beer to point to a man dressed head-to-toe in a hot dog costume. “See the wiener?”
Chastity snickered at the question and sucked down more of her drink through the straw.
“His wife is a bottle of mustard. She’s runnin’ around somewhere here. She’s besties with the councilman. Got the invite from her. Mrs. Mustard is a client.”
“No shit?”
“Yeah. Monday, she had me clean in a full Delta pilot outfit. Guess back in the day, she was a flight attendant. She said when she was younger, she met Mr. Weiner over there and couldn’t keep her hands off him. She’s got a thing for the uniform now, I guess.”
“Wild.” She shook her head. “Does Mr. Weiner know?”
“About what? That I come to dust her vents wearing only baby oil and half a pilot’s uniform?”
“Yeah.”
“Who do you think signs my checks ?”
“No wayyyyy.”
“Yes, way. He wants a spotless house, and he wants to see his wife happy. As long as I keep my dick in my pants, he’s fine with it.”
Barrett pointed to a woman in the middle of a line dance. She was beaming in her fringe shirt and rhinestone studded pants with a cowboy hat on her head.
“Seems like the councilman’s wife is havin’ a ball.”
Chastity grinned at Barrett.
“What?”
“You just have a handsome smile. That’s all.”
“You think so?”
Chastity shook her head. “Ugh, I’m making your massive head bigger, aren’t I? Forget I said anything.”
Barrett placed his hand on her knee and stroked it gently with his thumb. “When it comes to you, Aphrodite, I forget nothing.”
The music changed, and the line dancers dispersed.
“Well, then you surely remember how well I dance.”
“That I do.” He stood, extending his hand to her.
She placed her still-half-full glass on the bar and followed Barrett to the dance floor. Peeling back her red hood, Chastity’s hand slipped into his. He pulled her body flush against him, and they gently swayed to the slow tempo with a slight embarrassment neither had expected.
Neither said a word, exchanging only glances, letting their bodies move together in harmony once again.
Finally, Barrett spoke.
“What is this?”
“I think it might be Keith Urban,” she mumbled.
“No. What is this ? This thing between us. I can’t seem to stay away from you,” he said softly enough that only she could hear. “Or am I the only one feeling it?”
She shook her head, deep orange eyes peering into his soul. “It’s not just you. I feel it, too.”
She laid her head against his shoulder and swayed for a while. As the song waned, Barrett’s body stiffened, freezing in place as others moved about.
“What’s wrong?” Chastity looked up at his face, his eyes locked on something over her shoulder.
“Excuse me,” he said sternly, pulling his body from hers and stalking angrily back to the bar. The absence of his body left chilled air in his wake.
From the middle of the dance floor, she watched as Barrett tugged the man in a deer onesie to his feet.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” She heard Barrett’s angered voice cutting through all the commotion, and he pointed to Chastity’s drink at the bar.
The deer gave a snide smile and said something back that set Barrett off. Barrett punched the deer so hard that the man in the onesie collapsed to the ground like a rag doll.
Chastity gasped, along with several others around her. Two men leaped off their stools, holding Barrett back from going at the deer for another punch.
Barrett shook the men off of him and bolted away, exiting through the barn door to the parking lot.
Chastity raced out the door, confused and stunned. “Barrett! What the hell just happened in there?”
“That fucking asshole slipped something in your drink!”
He was livid, pacing. He stopped in the middle of the parking lot and ran his hands through his gelled black hair.
“Wait, he what ? You saw him?”
“Yes! That’s why I knocked him the fuck out! Fucking creep . I knew I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.”
Chastity was conflicted between the insatiable urge to either violently kiss or shake him.
“You could have just told me. We could have called the cops. You can’t just go around punching people!”
“I know, I know! This isn’t my first rodeo. Keeping my cool around fuck-heads is not my strong suit.” He groaned. “I’m sorry if I embarrassed you, but I am not sorry I laid that dude out.”
Whirling red-and-blue strobes flicked across Barrett’s hardened features as a black Jackson patrol car slid quickly into the gravel lot, stones crunching like snow beneath the tires.
Barrett winced. “Aww, goddammit . Not again !”