50. Save A Horse, Ride A Cowboy
FIFTY
save a horse, ride a cowboy
Wesley
The weather is changing, getting colder day by day and November has come to an end. Dahlia, my intelligent goddess of a girlfriend, passed her thesis with flying colors, the final bit needed to complete her degree.
Today, Daphne, Jasper, and I sit in a row with the family.
Bouquets line the floor in front of us, one from each of us.
Daphne insisted we should shower her in flowers and kisses all night long, and I will happily oblige.
Dahlia was an electric mix of nerves and excitement when we parted ways for her to find her seat.
They begin calling names, eventually landing on the social work department. I’m holding my breath as I watch the love of my life walk in line to the stage. I’m already cheering so loud, the people around me are definitely reconsidering their seat choice.
Dahlia is next to walk and when they call out, “Dahlia Wren Morrow, Master of Social Work.” I’m leaping out of my seat clapping my ass off.
Dahlia crosses the stage, luscious waves in her hair, her bright blonde strand peaking out of her cap.
Of course, below the blue gown she’s wearing a black corset dress with bell sleeves and knee-high stompy boots, because that’s who she is.
She smiles for a picture with the dean before striding down the stairs, back to her seat.
I can’t help myself, so I yell out, “I love you, Dahlia!” I can see the blush on her cheeks from here as she holds her diploma in the air doing a little dance. Daphne punches me in the arm playfully and I see the tears in her eyes.
“She did it.”
I put an arm around Daphne to give her a squeeze. “She sure did.”
Following the chaos of graduation and the blur of photos everyone demanded we take—particularly Stone who said he needed pictures with his future daughter-in-laws. Plural. I didn’t miss the look on Jasper’s face as his face hardened, staring at Daphne.
Standing between Daphne and Dahlia, they loop arms around him in a hug, before we all pile in for one big group photo.
Amber’s hugging Dahlia, congratulating her and they whisper something, a look of understanding passing between them.
When all is said and done, we move our celebrations to our next spot.
“Dahlia, baby, we are gonna have to blindfold you for this part, okay? It’s not too far.” I brush a stray hair behind her ear, looking for an excuse to touch her.
“Again? Kinky,” she attempts a whisper, but it’s a failure as Amber groans.
“Um, gross! Wes, we’re standing right here, you pervert.” Amber rolls her eyes and plugs her ears.
“Pervert! Uncle Wes is a pervert for Dahlia,” Emmett shouts.
Amber gives him a mock headlock before scooping him upside down and tickling him. “Don’t say that mister, Mommy was joking.” Unsurprisingly, Dale is absent, though he’s not missed in the slightest.
“Alright, let’s go everyone, enough lollygaggin’,” Stone calls out, already walking towards the parking lot.
We pull up to the building before carefully leading Dahlia inside.
We made sure to keep the lights low and music off until we made it all the way in.
The owners of Cunting Season were more than happy to lend us the space to throw Dahlia’s party, including drinks too.
The two men, Silas and Eli, gushed about Dahlia and Daphne and how they can’t believe we were stealing them away.
A further testament to how loved the girls are.
Steering Dahlia to the middle of the room, everyone else with us falls in a semicircle in front of the stage.
“Congratulations, Princess. You deserve the world and then some, and we are all so proud of you.” I untie the blindfold and it falls away to reveal my family, the bartenders, all of the backyard burlesque dancers.
Even the girls’ subway protector, Stacey and their lizard, Jamie.
Dahlia’s eyes are wide as she lets out a giddy squeal as she grabs my face in a bruising kiss.
“Holy shit! What is this? How is this? Oh my god,” she yells out, surprised.
Daphne steps forward. “Well, you landed yourself a good one, Dahlia. Lover Boy arranged this all to make sure we could show you how proud of you we are.” Everyone in the club passes Dahlia a flower, congratulating her and sharing stories of how she’s made them laugh or helped them out.
Silas moves to the microphone. “Dahlia, we are so happy to have had this time with you at Cunting Season, and if you ever find yourself back over this way and in need of a dance, our doors will forever be open to you. Congratulations! Let’s get this party started!”
The music booms over the speakers and the lights lower again as the disco ball gleams. Dahlia and Daphne take Liam and Emmett by the hand as they dance and giggle together. Amber watches them wistfully, even Liam looks lighter.
The happiness in my chest feels like I’m being cracked open, all the love pouring out of me.
It’s crazy to think there was a time where I felt like I didn’t have a home, I didn’t have a family.
It took a lot of healing and there’s still much more to go, I’m sure, but I’m on my way.
Dahlia made it possible—she kickstarted my tattered heart.
The dancing continues and tacos are being passed around.
Dahlia is dancing with Lorraine now in an attempt to show her some burlesque moves, while Stone cheers them on.
I’m leaning against the bar when Jasper sidles up to me.
He’s silent for a beat before he speaks.
“I’m happy for you, Wes. I know this is all you ever wanted. ”
“It is. It’s a great feeling to love and be loved. Might be good for you too,” I suggest.
“I’m not sure about all that.”
“Probably not meeting your soulmate in Rage’s stall, though I’m sure he’d make a great one.”
He snorts into his beer. “Maybe,” is all he offers. Daphne dances by with Dahlia in tow.
The familiar sounds of country chaos fill the club as Dahlia raises her hands above her head rocking her hips. I bite my fist and give her a heated look, knowing she’ll see exactly what I’m thinking.
At some point, Daphne hops up on the bartop, Dahlia right behind her.
Daphne struts like it’s a catwalk before crouching down at Jasper’s side.
Before he can stop her, she snatches his Stetson right off his head, dropping it onto hers with a maniacal laugh.
She pops up, looking down at Jasper as she mouths the chorus of the song, “Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy”.
Jasper’s expression is unreadable—angry, aroused, annoyed—truly any of those words would fit his expression and maybe it’s all three.
I clap him on the back. “Good luck there, cowboy.”
I reach up to help Dahlia down off the bar and whisper in her ear, “I do believe we’re missing one important thing about today. I remember a certain promise I made to have you leaking my cum as you got your diploma, baby. We’ll have to remedy that tonight.”
She leans into me, kissing me passionately before I whisk her away to the dance floor where we spend the rest of the night in each other’s arms, surrounded by family.