Chapter 4
The fact that Gage doesn’t bring up her family again nags, but Minnie tries to push that down on her anxiety list. The top of her list is not to make a fool of herself in front of his friends at the cookout.
She can worry about Gage’s odd standoffishness about meeting her family later. Priorities.
In preparation for their barbecue with his roommates, they set off together Saturday morning, driving through the south end of Uptown, parking near the quaint, family-run butcher that Minnie has known her whole life.
The aging owner glances up and smiles at Minnie, recognizing her.
As a girl, she would accompany her father to grab filets or premade kebabs for dinner.
Here, they always have the best cuts of meat and are well-known in town as a favorite spot.
Their marinades? Always on point. “Miss Fray,” Mr. Rackers says in greeting. “Long time no see, young lady.”
She grins and replies, “Mr. Rackers. Good morning. Could we trouble you for a few things?”
“Of course, dear girl. Of course. Let me know what you’d like when you’re ready.” His eyes glance off Gage with reserved interest, and Minnie knows he’s going to be gossiping about this to someone in the future. Crap, why didn’t she think of that possibility? The old man loves to talk.
Gage is already peering into the different display cases, determining what will be best for their cookout, his brow furrowed in thought.
“You want anythin’ in particular?” Gage asks her when she comes to stand beside him. “Marlin will make anythin’ you want.”
Minnie bites her lip. “Are you sure? If you’re all getting steaks, I don’t want to be trouble-”
His large hand finds its way to her waist, making her body heat with awareness.
The things those hands do to her! It always feels indecent when he touches her in public, because Minnie feels like everyone knows what effect he has on her, just by looking at her face.
“Marlin won’t care, he loves grillin’. Pick whatever you want. ”
She points out the cilantro-lime marinated chicken, and Gage nods to Mr. Rackers, rattling off the various cuts of meat he wants wrapped to go with the chicken. As Mr. Rackers is preparing the meat to go home with them, he gives Gage another inquisitive look, eyes lingering on his neck tattoo.
Just as they pay at the register, the bell chimes from somewhere behind them, signaling that another customer has entered the humble shop.
“Minerva?”
Absolute horror clutches Minnie in a vise-like grip, her eyes nearly leaping out of their sockets. Ariel freaking jinxed her!
Heart heaving madly, Minnie turns to look over her shoulder. Of all the people who could have come to Rackers Butcher today, it just had to be him, didn’t it? Good lord, she’s not ready for this. Pasting a welcoming smile on her face, she says in greeting, “Hey, Daddy.”
Gage flinches beside her subtly, turning to see who Minnie has addressed.
Something like panic is in his gaze, but he quickly hides it behind his usual neutral expression.
Except this time, he doesn’t posture or try to seem more intimidating than usual.
It’s almost as if he’s attempting to appear approachable.
As if he’s trying to disappear.
In the doorway stands Reginald Fray, looking crisp in his fine loafers and blue button-down shirt. His haircut is fresh from the local barber, salt and pepper hair done in modern style. At his wrist, his Rolex glitters. Gage’s eyes catch on that.
His eyes always catch on shiny things, like a magpie.
Leaving Gage’s side, Minnie goes to her father and hugs him, trying to hide her nerves, praying they’ll get through this unscathed. Her father is a natural protector of his daughters, and with Minnie’s past history, well, that only made him more protective.
“Who is this?” Her father asks when they pull apart from their embrace, eyes stony and face completely displeased.
Dangit, he’s not going to pretend to be pleasant about this. Not that she expected that of her father, who was always the loudest at Ariel’s childhood soccer games and always had something to say at parent-teacher conference nights.
When she was in high school, he once marched into the principal’s office and verbally took off their ear over the bullying Minnie received from peers due to her change in personality after her traumatic experience. He’d almost pulled her out and sent her to private school after that.
“My…um…” Minnie is frozen, trying to figure out what to say.
Insecurity and embarrassment nag at her; while Gage assured her that he considered them exclusive the other night, but he’s a little old to be called a boyfriend.
“He’s my friend.” Oh. That sounded lame, too.
Weakly, she looks up at the tattooed man beside her, saying, “Gage. Meet my father. This is-”
Gage looks rather grim when he holds out his hand, saying neutrally, “Mr. Fray. Nice to meet you. I’m Gage Travers.”
Her father peers hard at his face and then glances down at the tattooed hand extended his way. Stiffly, he shakes Gage’s hand with a pained expression. Minnie knows he’s only doing it out of manners, because she can see he would rather not shake at all.
His demeanor is clear, and it pains her that Gage had to be subjected to this. He doesn’t say pleasure to meet you, because clearly, that would be a lie. Her father is pretty far from pleased, and his eyes drift to Minnie with a look that states he will be giving her a stern talking to.
“This isn’t the gentleman friend your mother mentioned to me, is it?” His tone is flat. “The one that she intends to have at our dining room table?”
Minnie blanches and Gage’s jaw flexes.
“Well. About that. We…um…what I meant to say…is…”
As she’s floundering for words that make sense, Gage firmly takes the proverbial reins and says, “I am.”
Minnie almost faints; he’s admitting they’re intimately involved in front of her father!? All while her father looks like he would like to call the police on him just for breathing near Minnie?
Her father’s face darkens with disbelief, his eyes drifting over the prison tattoos.
Minnie cringes inside, practically envisioning her father calling the sheriff to know every little thing there is to know about Gage within minutes of leaving this place.
He’s close friends with police Captain Noweth, after all. He’ll call the bloody inquisition.
This is precisely what she feared.
Her father’s voice is tight as he stops beside her, uttering through a clenched jaw, “We’ll be speaking about this later, Minerva.” With that, he steps up to the counter and begins to speak to Mr. Rackers as if nothing ever happened.
Typical. She’s not off his mental list though. He’s simply not about to make a scene in front of Mr. Rackers, whom he has been a patron of for decades. She can feel the displeasure emanating from her father in waves.
Gage is staring at the door, jaw working.
Discomfort and tension ooze from him, and Minnie feels awful.
Gently, she grabs his free hand and pulls him to the exit, trying not to hear the sound of her heart pounding frantically.
Maybe he won’t want to have anything to do with her now that he’s met her father…
“I’m sorry about that,” Minnie says awkwardly as they stand outside. She doesn’t know what else to say or how to squash the feeling of mortification within her.
“Why? You don’t control him. I know what I am and what I look like,” he says coldly, face tight. A muscle in his jaw is ticking. “A man like that doesn’t want to think of his daughter with a man like me.”
“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Minnie whispers softly, sorrow eating at her. She doesn’t want him to feel bad about himself because of her. “My father is just-”
A bitter scoff slips from his cruel mouth, the mouth she so loves to feel against her skin. The mouth that has brought her more pleasure than she’s ever had in years. “That’s just your opinion, isn’t it? Don’t make it fact. People just don’t like hard truths.”
The words are icy, harsh.
She reaches for him, but he’s already heading towards the car, gait stiff and irritated. “Gage-”
“You don’t know me, Minnie.” He isn’t looking at her. His throat works hard and Minnie can’t understand what has him in this state. It can’t possibly be just from running into her deeply unimpressed father. “You don’t know the first thing about me. Who I am, what I’ve done-”
Telling herself to be bold, Minnie hops into the car after him and twists in her seat to face him. She’s going to put an end to his self-loathing nonsense. “I don’t care what you did. I know that I like who you are now. That I only want you.”
His face softens slightly as he gazes at her. He slowly cups her cheek, hand warm and callused. “Princess. You can’t say shit like that to me.”
She nuzzles into his rough hand and kisses the palm. She wants the strange guilt in his eyes to go away. “Of course, I can. You can’t stop me from saying it. And if you try, I’ll write you a poem about it. It will be extra flowery. Ha!”
Those hazel eyes darken with something akin to hunger. “I don’t deserve you.”
“Yes, you do. Stop being such a turd.”
“How can you be sexy even when you’re calling me a turd?” He growls as he leans over the center console, stealing a kiss. “Doesn’t seem fair.”
Minnie is glad he’s no longer thinking about the unpleasant interaction with her father. “Hold your steamy horses. We have a cookout to join first, remember?”
Smirking, Gage leans back and starts the car and saying, “Yeah. Yeah. But we can always have a snack before that, right?” He winks.
He’s such a beast! Unthinkable. “No! It’s the middle of the day, your housemates will hear-”
“Well, yeah. They’ll hear regardless of the time it happens.”
Minnie flushes and covers her face in embarrassment. “How am I supposed to look them in the face? Oh, they think I’m a hussy.”
His chuckle coils low in her belly, pulling all her strings. “The same way you’ve looked them in the face before, I suppose. They aren’t your sister, princess; they don’t care.”
Hah! As if that alleviates her embarrassment any.
This will be the first time Minnie has really ‘hung out’ with the group as a whole, and her nerves are already high.
She remembers the one unsavory character, the one with the creepy tattoo on his pale arm. The ginger with the mean blue eyes. She tries not to shudder; he was awful that night she first went to Gage’s house.
Minnie could do without meeting him again.
Maybe he’ll be nicer this time, she thinks, trying to stay positive. Nothing this day throws at us can be any worse than Daddy. I hope.