TWENTY-FOUR #2
“If Astrid charges your phone.”
“I’m really surprised you’ve chosen abstinence on your wedding night, Skippy.”
But her love laughed and wrapped both arms around her shoulders. “Until you remember I’m so good at it.”
“This isn’t a conversation I want to witness.”
What? They were just standing there, together, against each other, thinking about… The “so good at it” thing might mean something to them, but it was pretty easy to place what they were talking about. If Sam was the one in her place with his own partner… Yeah, moving on.
“Casanova, you’ll never guess what, Sam’s a Ballard fanboy.”
“Really? Don’t get many of those.”
Hmm, not entirely accurate. “Male fans might be few and far between, maybe, but women love the growling. Ballard’s good at the growling. Not as good as some, but… Sam knows Ryder too.”
“Then he has good taste in friends,” Zairn said. “Worked together?”
Sam’s head tilted. “What is it you think I do?”
“You’d be more likely to get an answer from Ryder on that,” Roxie said. “We can introduce Sam to Ballard though, maybe he could use a hand.”
“Tonight? You want your brother to work at our wedding?”
“Your best man is working. My best friend, in addition to getting married herself, is working.” She swept her arm in front of her, though the majority of the room and the guests were behind Zairn, the support at her back.
“And this, talking to people, schmoozing, hosting, smiling at the masses, is a huge part of what we do on a daily basis.”
Huh, good point, she hadn’t put those pieces together like that until right then. It was so routine, it was completely natural.
“You were right about the getting married again,” Zairn said, more serious than before. Skippy rearing his head? “Next time we’ll do it the way you want.”
“You didn’t want this?” Sam asked.
“I did! I do! I’ve had an excellent day. Jane’s purview is exactly what I wanted. Z’s a go-getter, that’s what it is, he doesn’t like to be beaten. Everything’s a competition, even with himself. Always likes to think we can aim higher.”
That wasn’t why the suggestion came up though. Playing up to the image, the public perception, was necessary sometimes.
Knowing him, like she did, that wasn’t one-upmanship talking. No, her Casanova was pissed at himself. He pushed himself harder than anyone else.
“You said intimate,” Zairn said, “don’t think I forgot.”
“This day has been wonderful, perfect.” She pushed the crown of her head against him. “Intimate comes later.”
“I don’t need to be standing here for this,” Sam said.
She and Zairn talked about sex a lot. Hmm.
Maybe she’d have pegged that. It wasn’t until her brother was right there pointing it out that she considered it may not be a normal thing to do around people.
That was her girls’ fault too though. All of them had sex on the brain.
Worked out for their guys, so who was complaining?
No one else would go around correcting them, that was for sure.
Her brother was a grouch, plain and simple, that didn’t mean she couldn’t take a shot at lightening him up. Something she’d been doing since they were kids. He’d call it pestering, she liked to think of it more as a public service. God help any woman interested in getting with the grump.
“You know, you’re right,” she said, biting the corner of her lip. One way to ease his load would be to help him… eject that load, as it were. “Scroogey, we need to get Sam a girl.”
“You don’t,” her brother said. “I get my own girls.”
Didn’t look like he was doing a bang-up job of it, standing there at the edge of the pack making a point of distancing himself.
“Zairn would’ve said that once too, then fate delivered me to him. Stroke of luck. That’s me. I can be your stroke of luck. Just call me Cupid.”
“Please, don’t tax yourself,” he said, monotone.
“Are you coming to the club?”
“Haven’t decided.”
“I’d say you can fly in the chopper with us, but you’d be disappointed to miss a chance to rappel from the thing.”
“If there’s a chance for that kind of fun, I’ll go upstairs and grab my kit.”
Oh, so predictable, though still entertaining. “Doesn’t surprise me you carry that kind of thing as standard. Does surprise me you’d stay in a place like this. Did you find some janitor’s closet big enough for your sleeping bag and just set up shop?”
“That’s the thing, Talks-A-Lot, sometimes a guy has to be comfortable in comfort, even when he prefers the dirt.”
Something about that statement sparked a thought.
“We need to dig up Kinloch,” she muttered over her shoulder to her guy.
Sam got the reference. “Kinloch Peake, I’ve spent time on his land.”
“Of course you have.”
Because Sam spent most of his life trying to make sure he never slept in one place twice. That meant spreading himself out… a lot.
“He has a lot of it,” Zairn said. “More soon.”
“With all the wealth he’s just acquired—”
“Man’s always had a lot of wealth from how I hear it,” Sam said. “Got a lot of respect for a guy dedicated to the land like that. He might be the only loaded guy I have a chance of understanding.”
“Well, I’m so sorry, he’s not my type,” she said. “Whoever marries him will probably have to live in a cave.”
That amused her leaning post. “That’s funny because it’s probably true.”
“Guy might surprise you.”
Or not. “A lot of people were surprised by Kinloch’s decision to sell his family’s life work,” she said. “Got to admit, I don’t know him too well, but even I was surprised. Maybe if I’d thought about if from the point of view of a guy like you…”
“Don’t know a better use for money.”
“Than to buy isolation? That’s exactly what you’d do if we gave you a charge card, isn’t it?”
“No, I’d shove the thing up your ass,” Sam said, clearly annoyed. “You were never about the money, Talks-Alot.”
Porter noted that about her too, once upon a time.
These days, it frustrated her when people looked at Zairn and only saw money.
When those people assumed he was shallow and arrogant.
Okay, so his ego wasn’t lacking, but none of that was the sum total of him.
She liked being the one who saw him at his most unguarded, his most honest. That didn’t mean she wanted those she loved to believe any of the assumptions in the press.
Zairn pounced to her defense. “She still isn’t.”
Sigh, it was nice while it lasted. They’d gotten along for… oh, at least three minutes.
“What happened to you liking each other?”
“I like him so long as he shows you respect,” Zairn said, with a hard edge she’d heard in his voice before, usually with people he considered harmful to her or them. “This is her wedding day.”
“Don’t care,” Sam said. “She deserves respect every day. As long as you’re good for her, I’ll keep the peace. Minute I think you’re not… don’t forget I’m watching.”
“From so far away, you haven’t seen her the whole time I’ve known her. I’ve had a chance to learn her, love her, and have her love me, and you haven’t shown up once.”
“Still watching.”
“Okay, everyone, this is a happy day. Happy times. Happy faces. I love both of you and you love me. This is family. We’re family. We’ll go to the club, get drunk, make some memories.”
“Heard a rumor you have a skit.”
Her brother often managed to hear rumors. Always surprised her given she never saw him talking to anyone. Who exactly was sharing these rumors? Insect life? Rodents? Couldn’t be the homo sapiens.
“A skit?” she asked.
“A musical number.”
Ah, her birthday. Good times.
“Come to the club and maybe you’ll get a front row seat.”
No, there weren’t really seats. Maybe she should pull him up on stage, just to guarantee his excellent view.
Funny that while she’d be performing, being ridiculous for hundreds of viewers, Sam would be the more mortified one up there.
Had never been his thing, being the center of attention.
Probably why she and Sonia excelled at it.
“Hmm,” he pondered. “Not sure that’s a good deal. I’ve heard you sing.”
“By the time I get up there, you’ll be too drunk to care. Besides, what do you think autotune is for?” she asked and snagged his hand again. “We’ll find Ballard, you can buddy up, and maybe you’ll have a good time.”
“Maybe.”
“It’s a risk you have to take,” she said, beaming. “It’s my wedding day. You can’t say no.”