“We’ve been together for two… three weeks? I can’t propose–”
“You’ve known Blake your whole life. You had her sent to the nuns when you thought she was partying too much in high school.”
“That’s not why I did that–”
“Don’t forget, you’ve been jerking off to her magazine spread for three years.”
Anger flares in my chest, and he holds up his hands.
“I’m not saying I’ve been jerking off to her, but that was a hot pictorial.” He lifts his mug. “What was she even selling? I only saw one thing.” He takes a sip of coffee and holds up his fingers. “Sorry, two things.”
“Now I’m going to kick your ass.”
“See?” He points a finger at me, winking “There it is. She’s your woman. You wouldn’t want to rip my head off right now if she weren’t.” He shakes his head taking another bite of scone. “I’m only making a point, bro, shit. Breathe.”
I do inhale, then exhale slowly. “The truth is, I’ve been thinking about it.”
“So what’s stopping you?”
“Pepper.”
Our eyes meet, and he frowns. “You think she doesn’t like Pep?”
“No, she likes her. I know she likes her, but there’s a big difference in liking a kid and wanting to be her…” Shifting in my chair, I can’t think of another way to say it. “Her mom.”
“First, she’ll never be Pepper's mom. Judy was Pepper’s mom.” I give him a look like, No shit, Sherlock, and he continues. “I get it. But I mean, I help you with the Pep. It’s not like it’s all on you.”
“You’re a good uncle. I appreciate it.” I nod. “But when the shit hits the fan, Pepper’s my responsibility. We’re a package deal, and it’s a lot to ask somebody, especially somebody like Blake. She’s special.”
“So fucking ask her. How else will you ever know?”
He’s right, but I have another reason for waiting. “If she’s not interested, our relationship will change. I’d like to enjoy spending time with her a little longer before I drive her away.”
“You’re not going to drive her away.” Dirk leans forward. “I’m no expert in women by a long shot, but from what I’ve seen, Blake’s not going anywhere. I’d bet my motorcycle on it. Now get off your ass and get that girl a ring.”
Leaning back, it’s the same thing Carmen said–almost. Whatever, there’s only one way to know. I’m just not sure I’m ready if the answer is no.
“I’m thinking about giving her Mom’s ring. If that’s okay with you?”
He nods, finishing off his scone. “I like it. Hugh’s always been like family. Blake is his niece. It’s like she was meant to have it.”
“Thanks, bro.” I stand, leaving cash for the bill. “I’ve got some shit to do, need a ride back to your place?”
“Nah, I’m headed over to the office.”
I’m headed back to the house, all the way back to the small, fireproof box I keep in the back of my closet. Taking it out, I move the papers aside, Pepper’s birth certificate, my passport, and a small, velvet pouch.
Inside is the one thing I have left of my mom’s, a ring she took off after we came back here and gave to me. She told me to only give it to someone I would be faithful to, who I’d treasure as deeply as my own soul.
It was the kind of love she dreamed of having, and I understood what she meant. I’ve been thinking about it for a while now, and I slip the small pouch in my wallet.
Sitting in my truck in Hugh’s circle driveway, I’ve never felt more awkward. I’m in jeans and a button-down oxford, and in twenty years, I’ve never hesitated before marching up to that door. Hugh’s house has always been my second home.
I quickly filter through all that’s happened in the last month, hell, all that’s happened in the last few years. This old man is like that guy in The Wizard of Oz, hiding behind the curtain, turning knobs and pulling levers.
He’s orchestrated everything that’s happened, from sending me to check on her to making me promise to keep her safe then getting out of Dodge. Dropping my chin, I exhale a chuckle. Damn, him. He’s going to gloat so hard when he finds out what I’m planning to do tonight.
I grasp the door handle, ready to step out and get things moving, when the front door opens, and my breath stills in my throat. Blake steps out on the landing looking like something out of my hottest wet dream.
Her dark hair is shiny and loose over her shoulders, and she’s wearing a red dress that hugs her curves like it was sewn on her. Her lips are pale pink, and her eyes are round and blinking quickly like she’s as nervous as I feel–and as fed up with all this bullshit as I am.
Grabbing the reins, I get out and go to her, reaching for her waist and pulling her firmly into my arms like she belongs to me, because fuck it, she does.
I lean down and kiss the side of her jaw so I don’t mess up her pretty lipstick. I can tell she spent some time on her look tonight, and she’s rocking it.
“You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” Her body relaxes in my arms, and my certainty is complete. “You sure you want to go to Slim Harold’s? I should take you someplace nicer. You’re seriously incredible in this dress.”
“You like it?” She looks down then up again, meeting my eyes with sparkles in hers. “I wanted a short skirt, but not too short for when you teach me to shag.”
Hell, her sassy voice has my dick rising to life, especially when I remember her sweet little ass last night in that cheerleader skirt. “Are you wearing underwear?”
Her head tilts, and she leans closer. “I’m wearing a thong. I didn’t want to take any chances if I fell.”
“I won’t let you fall, baby.” I pull her to me again, kissing her cheek a little closer to her lips this time. “Just hold onto me.”
Slim Harold’s is packed for a Friday night, and it’s mostly the old-timers out on the floor doing their classic dance to every song that comes on the jukebox.
Blake is at a high-top table across from me. She’s having the house specialty–thick-cut bologna sandwiches with fried corn on the cob. I literally can’t believe she’s eating this, considering the cuisine I’m sure she grew up having.
I’m having a burger and fries, wishing we were at someplace a bit classier, but this is what she wanted.
She’s turned in her chair, watching them with fascination. “It’s like a twist, but with a little jitterbug and a Charleston mixed in.”
“I think they made it up.”
“Of course they did! That’s what makes it special.” She laughs looking back at me, and her eyes are dancing.
I love that she’s having fun here. We’re in this crowded, hometown bar and grill, sharing this moment. I reach across the table, and she puts her hand in mine.
“Hey…” I’m not sure how to start this gracefully. “I’ve been thinking about us and where we stand now. I guess we have a few things to talk about.”