Chapter 6 Dixie
Dixie
“He doesn’t care about you, Dixie. You’re only here because he was commanded to take care of you and Storm would never go against the great Porter Reeves,” I mumble to myself as I use Storm’s white towel to scrub my face clean of makeup.
He’s not going to be happy when he sees the black smudges covering his clean towel, but I don’t care. I don’t want to sleep with all of this on my face and I'm not asking him for a different towel.
In fact, I'm not talking to him at all the rest of the night… morning? Whatever! I'm not talking to him for at least a week! That should do it. Make him realize I'm mad at him.
But it probably won't. He most likely won't even realize I'm giving him the silent treatment because that’s how little Storm cares about me. I'm only a blip on his radar because of who my father is. If I called anyone else dad, he’d ignore me like I didn’t even exist.
I'm not sure which one would be worse. On one hand, I get his attention and he’s forced to talk to me and take care of me when I get too drunk. On the other, it’s like having false hope that maybe one day I could be more to him.
My eyes are heavy and unfocused as I stare at my reflection in the mirror.
I'm so tired and I'm freezing. I don’t know why I let Roxy talk me into wearing this. I knew I’d be freezing in the corset, but she insisted the alcohol would take the edge off.
And it did for a while, but now it’s not helping.
There’s no way I'm sleeping in it, but I'm not sure I can get out of this by myself either.
I fumble with the knots on my back, trying to free myself from this contraption. I don’t know what I’ll wear when I get this off, but right now I'm too focused on freeing myself to care.
I don’t have a bra or my dress, Roxy left them both in the back room of the saloon. The only thing she didn’t make me change out of was my underwear, though she did complain about the hot pink color.
“What are you doing in there, Little Fox?” Storm’s deep voice flows through the closed door and wraps around me like a warm hug.
I open my mouth to respond, but then I remember I don’t want to talk to him. I’m never talking to him again if I can help it.
“Dixie? Are you ok?” He asks after a few seconds when I don’t answer. “Open the door, Dix. We both know I won't hesitate to knock this thing down.” He pounds his fist against the wood, rattling the door.
I roll my eyes and continue working on the knot. How tight did she tie this thing? Was she making sure no one could get me out of it?
“You have three seconds to open this door or I'm breaking it down!” Panic starts to invade Storm’s tone, making a little bit of hope bloom in my chest.
Just as quickly, I remind myself he doesn’t actually care about me, but if something happens to me, he’ll have to tell Dad it happened on his watch. I don’t matter to him and I never will.
“One!” He calls loud enough to probably wake up the people trying to sleep peacefully on either side of his apartment. “Two! Three!”
As soon as the word is out of his mouth, his fist comes through the wood, splintering around his body. I stare at the door, refusing to react. The hole is only big enough for him to look into the bathroom and see I'm completely fine.
“What the heck, Dixie! I thought you were passed out in there!” Anger fills his gaze, but there’s a little bit of relief mixed in too.
“I didn’t even lock the door when I came in here, you could’ve just opened it.”
His brows furrow as he glances down at the door knob. He slowly twists it and it easily swings open.
“You feel like an idiot now, don’t ya?”
“Why didn’t you answer me?”
“Because I'm mad at you and I'm not talking to you ever again… Crap, I need to stop talking to you.” I shake my head, my hands still behind my back as I try to untie this ribbon.
“Let me help you,” Storm sighs and reaches for the ribbon.
“No! I don’t want your help. I want to go home. I don’t want to see you or talk to you.”
Storm closes the distance between us. He stares down at me, his eyes searching my face, looking for any clue as to what’s going on. Clearly, he can't keep up with my drunken logic.
He reaches his large hand up and gently brushes some hair away from my eyes. He lets his fingers trail down my cheek and over my neck.
I want to lean into his touch. To close my eyes and remember this feeling forever.
To pretend just for a little bit that he could be mine.
But I can't. I can't let myself dream of a future with him when I know that isn't possible. It will hurt too much when I have to face reality and live with the disappointment of knowing I can't have the only man I’ve ever wanted. The man I’ve had a crush on since I was twelve years old.
“Why are you mad at me, Little Fox?” He murmurs softly, never removing his hand from my body. It moves from my neck down to my collar bone, making me shiver.
“You’re only here because of who my father is,” I growl, letting my anger take over. I don’t want him affecting me like this. I want to hate him so I never feel anything else towards him.
“What are you talking about?” His fingers are back on my face, trailing over my lips.
“You wouldn’t be taking care of me if I didn’t belong to Porter Reeves.”
“That’s not true,” he whispers and I swear his gaze drops to my lips before returning to my eyes again. But there’s no way Storm wants to kiss me. Not even a chance.
“You’ve only ever paid attention to me because Dad asks you to keep an eye on me.
I mean absolutely nothing to you. If I wasn’t his daughter, you wouldn’t have gone to McHugh’s with us or kept an eye on me.
You wouldn’t have made sure I got home or cared if I was passed out in a bathroom.
I mean nothing to you without my connection to your president. ”
“That’s where you’re horribly wrong, Little Fox. Without your connection to my president, you’d be my entire world.”
Without another word, Storm spins me around and quickly unties the knot at my back. He tugs on one piece of ribbon, then the other, until the corset falls to my feet.
I should care that I'm naked from the waist up, but I don’t. I'm too focused on what Storm just said and what he could possibly mean. My brain is too fuzzy to dissect his words though. It’s taking too much effort to just stay standing.
“I’ll get you a shirt to sleep in,” he whispers as he disappears and comes back a moment later.
His eyes scan over my bare back as I stare at him over my shoulder.
His brows are pinched together like he’s trying to solve the most difficult problems in the world.
His gaze lingers on me for a few moments before he squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head like this is painful for him.
Then he slips the shirt over my head and helps me get my arms in the sleeves.
When I make no move to take off the leather pants Roxy let me borrow, he quickly works the button and gently pushes them down my legs. He helps me remove one foot, then the other, careful to make sure I don’t lose my balance.
Without a word, he sweeps me into his arms and carries me straight to his bed. Once we’re lying next to each other, he tugs the blanket over us and lets out a long sigh.
“Go to sleep, Little Fox. We can talk in the morning.”