Blue Motel Room

  Ron pulled up and turned at Wylie’s tone and smirk. “What?”

  “Ev doesn’t know, but I caught Eve stumbling into the house this morning at daybreak. Said you two got sloshed and passed out together in the Tin Can.”

  A dark, unsettled feeling stirred somewhere around the base of his spine. Maybe he was more hungover than he thought, because Wylie’s obvious amusement wasn’t computing. “Why doesn’t Ev know?”

  “Because it would embarrass Eve. She’s my sister-in-law. I know how to be politic.”

  Relief! “Ah. Then I guess I’ll keep my trap shut, too.”

  Wylie patted him on the shoulder. “Wise man. Besides, not like you guys did anything. Nothing to tell Ev. Right? I mean, not that it would matter if you did, buuuut I’m assuming from your end of things—”

  “Phpth.” Ron shoved away an uncomfortable mental image he had first assumed was nothing more than a drunken dream. “Not that she’s not nice, because she is, but she’s not a guy.”

  “And while Eve can be an overprotective little sister, Ev’s a really overprotective big brother, when he wants to be. I’m smart enough to keep my mouth shut when there’s nothing to talk about anyway. Even if there was, short of a direct order from Sir, I’d still keep my mouth shut. Ev’s probably in the kitchen. If not, just let yourself in the back door.”

  “Thanks.” Ron started toward the house.

  “I left you some pancakes on a plate in the oven. Help yourself.”

  “Thanks, again.” Yeah, it wouldn’t be Eve he’d draw Ev’s ire over, if he had half a chance.

  Not that he was a home-wrecker, because he wasn’t. If a guy was taken, that was it, done, period. Total non-starter.

  But if he was going to make a pass at anyone on this property, it’d be Wylie.

  Unless the guy I wish I’d approached instead of the red-haired guy happens to show up by some miracle.

  Besides, even if he was into women, he would never do that to Kimbra. She was his friend.

  He found Ev sitting at the kitchen table and reading his tablet while finishing his breakfast. When he spotted Ron through the door he waved him in and pointed to the oven when Ron entered. “Wy left you a plate.”

  “He told me. Meds first, huh?”

  Ev smiled and pointed at the counter, where a clean glass, an empty coffee mug, and the ibuprofen bottle were laid out and ready.

  “Thanks.” After he had washed three tablets down, he poured his coffee and retrieved the plate, sitting with Ev. “Man, I haven’t hit it that hard in a long time.”

  “Did you two finish off the mead?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t looked.” He remembered almost stumbling over an empty growler jug lying on its side when he left the Tin Can. “I’m afraid to.”

  Ev snorted. “I can’t drink like that, either. Too hard suffering through it the next morning.”

  “Yeah, well, I think I found my mid-year’s resolution.” He sipped his coffee before tucking into the pancakes.

  “Mid-year’s?”

  “Yeah. Limiting myself to only one serving of mead per event.”

  “One serving?” The arched eyebrow and smirk told Ron Ev had picked up on that distinction. “That’s not a very definitive qualifier.”

  Ron shrugged. “Well, I don’t want to be too boring.”

  Ron made it out of there and was on his way home less than an hour later. And, it turned out, they hadn’t finished off the mead. There was still over half a growler left in the cooler, but they’d emptied the other one.

  That was a lot of fucking mead.

  His headache had settled back to a dull throbbing by the time he returned home and unloaded his shit. Wynn and Meri weren’t there, even though her car was. Ron climbed into the shower and stood there with the water as cool as he could stand it and the spray aimed at the back of his head.

  That helped.

  Unfortunately, it also allowed him a moment to think about how he’d acquired the hangover in the first place.

  Now he wasn’t sure if it was memories or dreams. Ev said Eve had left almost an hour before he climbed out of the bunk…but Ron wasn’t dead or dismembered, so he was assuming either a) he didn’t force Eve to do whatever they did, if the mental images he couldn’t rid himself of were really what happened, or b) they hadn’t done anything, and they’d just been dreams.

  B was his preferred choice. For multiple reasons.

  For starters, Kimbra. She was his friend, and he knew she was in love with Eve.

  Actually, back that truck the fuck up.

  For starters, because even though yeah, he’d been really drunk and on a long dry streak sexually, he was not into women. So he wouldn’t have made a pass at Eve, drunk or sober.

  If something had happened, that would mean Eve had probably…

  Shit.

  He was gay, not dead. If she’d been determined enough, he wouldn’t have turned her away in his condition last night. Not exactly informed consent, but he also wasn’t going to make a federal case over it, either. Not with her, with him being friends with Ev and Kimbra.

  Especially Kimbra.

  Except…maybe nothing happened last night. Maybe they’d talked and he’d had sexy fucking dreams that just felt like memories.

  That was a lot of fucking mead.

  That sealed it for him. He wasn’t going to call Eve and ask, “Hey, did we fuck around last night? Literally?”

  That wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have in any universe, much less this one.

  He’d wait to see if she approached him. If she didn’t, that meant it’d only been in his own brain.

  Besides, how would he even go about getting her number without it raising some uncomfortable questions?

  He dried off and didn’t bother pulling on clothes before he climbed into bed. All he wanted to do was sleep off his pancake coma and mead hangover and make the uncomfortable thoughts go away.

  Especially to make the uncomfortable thoughts go away.

  The sooner, the better.

  Chapter Eight

  Immediately upon returning home, Eve stood in her shower and scrubbed herself head to toe again.

  This is fine. This’ll be fine.

  Even her symptoms from her hangover had drastically improved as the food and coffee and meds helped.

  She was more worried about Kimbra’s reaction at this point, especially when combined with knowing Kimbra wanted to “talk.”

  Would this be the final tipping point?

  Eve wouldn’t blame her if it was.

  I love her.

  Eve turned from where she’d been leaning against her kitchen counter and headed for the catch-all drawer. There, she rooted through it and found what she was looking for.

  Instead of calling Kimbra, she opted to drive there. It was a little before noon when she pulled into Kimbra’s driveway.

  Fortunately, Kimbra’s car was the only one there. Part of her had felt convinced she’d arrive and awkwardly stumble across the very thing Kimbra wanted to “talk” about—that she’d already moved on with someone else. Eve forced herself up the walk and rang the doorbell.

  When Kimbra answered the door, Eve immediately threw herself on Kimbra, kissing her, closing her eyes and nearly sobbing with relief as Kimbra responded. Kimbra wrapped her arms around Eve and took control of the kiss, stepping back inside with Eve in her arms and kicking the door shut with her foot.

  Finally, Kimbra lifted her head and stared into her eyes. Her voice sounded low, tone somber. “I don’t see you for, what, over a week, and you show up now, with a greeting like that. What’s up?”

  “I love you,” Eve said, unable to hold back her tears. “I love you, and I can’t lose you. Please marry me.”

  Eve dug the key out of her pocket, took Kimbra’s hand in hers, and pressed it into her palm before closing her fingers around it. “I’m an idiot and I love you. You’ve put up with me all these years. I’m done being stupid, if you’ll still have me.” r />
  Kimbra stared at the key for a long and bumpy moment. Eve couldn’t pull her gaze from Kimbra’s, while Kimbra’s focus remained on her hand.

  “You’re giving me a key?”

  They didn’t have keys for each other’s places.

  “I’m giving you me, Ma’am.”

  Now Kimbra’s beautiful blue gaze met hers, her brow furrowing as she studied Eve. “Is this because I wanted to talk?”

  “It’s because I had an…epiphany.”

  Kimbra’s gaze returned to the key. She turned it over in her palm, as if trying to convince herself it was real. Eve’s soul chilled at her next words. “We still need to talk, hon.”

  Eve nodded. “I know. We do. I mean, I do, too.”

  Kimbra closed her fist around the key. “I mean, we really need to talk. There’s something I need to tell you.”

  * * * *

  What Kimbra wanted to do was haul Eve down to the county clerk’s office and camp out there so that first thing tomorrow morning they could get their marriage license. Then she wanted to tie Eve down in bed for the next three days, edge her without letting her come, until she was nearly out of her damn mind with need, and then drag her back to the county clerk’s office to say, “I do.”

  All that before bringing her back home and making love to her for the rest of the week. Kimbra wasn’t one to take off weekdays, but for this she’d make an exception.

  The sharp edges of the key dug into her palm and she forced herself to focus on Eve’s gaze again. Blue-green, like her brother’s eyes.

  “Yes, Ma’am?”

  Damned if her saying those two words didn’t do something good to Kimbra’s soul.

  Now I get why Walt likes it like that.

  Kimbra knew they should go sit down for this talk, not have it standing there in her foyer, but she was afraid if they did that she’d end up wrapped around Eve—or Eve would be wrapped around her—and the last thing they’d be doing was talk.

  She couldn’t get side-tracked.

  Taking a deep breath, Kimbra decided to plunge in head-first. “Last weekend, I went to the Toucan with Ron. I got really damn drunk. I’m not talking a good buzz kind of drunk—I’m talking bad-decision, black-out drunk. I was propositioned by a subby who was looking for a hard, no-strings spanking in exchange for making me feel good, and I took them up on it. I was drunk and lonely, and that’s no excuse, but—”

  Eve kissed her again, hard, deeply, surprising Kimbra. Eve wrapped her arms around Kimbra’s neck and held on tightly, until all Kimbra could do was reach around and grab Eve’s ass and go with it.

  Finally, Eve let them come up for air, but she kept her forehead pressed against Kimbra’s and her eyes closed.

  Tears spilled down her cheeks. “I got really drunk with someone at Ev’s last night, and woke up next them in the Tin Can. I’m sorry, Ma’am.”

  Kimbra sighed. “You’re comin’ here this morning out of guilt?”

  “A little.”

  “A little?”

  “A lot. A whole lot. Mostly because my first thought when I woke up was that I love you, I don’t want anyone but you, and I’m terrified I’m going to lose you because I’m a fucking idiot. I was worried that’s what you wanted to talk about, that you wanted to break up. I’m so sorry.”

  “So are you doing this because you want to, or because you’re scared not to, or because you’re feeling guilty and shook?”

  “Mostly the first, a little of the other two. But mostly because I want to.” Eve sighed. “Even if it hadn’t been for last night, I’d still be okay with what you did, because that was what I asked you to agree to, even if I was stupid to not give you more a long time ago. I wouldn’t have put up with me for this long, that’s for damn sure.”

  Kimbra made Eve look at her and meet her gaze. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” Kimbra said.

  “Is that what you wanted to talk about this past week?”

  Kimbra nodded. “I was feeling pretty damn guilty, too. I’m sorry.”

  “You don’t need to apologize to me, Ma’am. We had an agreement.”

  Kimbra studied her for a long moment. “We done playing games? We gonna make this real and official and tell everyone?”

  “Can we please get married first?”

  “You know your parents will be okay with this, right? Look how much they love Wylie.” A thought hit her. “Or are you worried they might not like me because I’m mixed?”

  Which would be…weird, because she’d met Eve’s family before—under the pretext of them being friends and colleagues—and they’d seemed perfectly fine.

  Then again, being fine with their daughter’s friend, and being fine with their daughter’s wife, were two different things entirely.

  “Not any of that.” Eve drew in a deep breath. “This is…about me. I also need to figure out how to apologize to Ev.”

  “For what?”

  “For keeping this a secret. For being a chicken and not admitting it sooner. For basically making him come out first so I could see Mom and Dad’s reactions.”

  Kimbra pulled her in again. “It’s all right, baby girl. How do you want to do this, then?”

  “I was thinking we could get married, work out where we’re going to live and all that, and then throw a party for everyone. Safety in numbers.”

  “No, I want to tell my family first,” Kimbra said. “I don’t want to blind-side them. They’ll keep it quiet. Not like Walt doesn’t already know we’re sort of an item. I think they’ll be okay, but I’d rather they receive the news in private in case they aren’t.”

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  “We’ll tell your family separately, too, after we tell mine.” Kimbra offered her a smile. “We’ll practice on mine.”

  Besides, Kimbra knew she’d just scored a huge win, and like hell would she push too hard and send Eve scurrying back into the closet. “Within the next two months we’ll tell your family. How’s that? We’ll start off by having dinner together with them and Ev and Wylie a few times, and then break it to them after we feel them out. If I think any of them will take it badly, I’ll handle it from there. We can even fudge things and tell them we’re dating, if you want, and then later tell them we eloped.”

  It felt like every bit of tension drained out of Eve. “Thank you, Ma’am.” Eve stood an inch shorter than Kimbra’s five-eight, but right now, the way she had tucked herself close against Kimbra’s body, she felt smaller, more vulnerable.

  Briefly, Kimbra was uncomfortably reminded of Ivan last weekend, how close to his size and build Eve was, and she quickly shoved that out of her mind.

  Emotions weren’t rational. Kimbra understood that all too well from her years practicing criminal law. Eve had just given herself to Kimbra.

  Was she willing to give some in return to reward that concession and help ease Eve’s fears?

  Fuckin’ A, she was.

  Once she got a ring on her girl’s finger, she could take her damn sweet time from there to work on her.

  “We spend most every night together from this point on, even before we publicly move in together,” Kimbra said. “Not counting when you have to travel for work or something. We’re living together. Period. We just need to decide which house is the one we’ll be in for good. And we need a prenup.”

  “Pre-marital assets remain full property of the person who owned them coming into the marriage, including but not limited to houses, cars, and retirement accounts. Our paychecks are our own, not marital assets. We’ll create a joint account to use for household expenses and contribute equally to it, unless we draw up a future stipulation changing that. Items purchased by someone during the marriage remain theirs, unless it’s a gift for the other.”

  It was simple and clear-cut. Kimbra kissed the top of her head. “Deal. Marry me, baby girl. This week.”

  “We can get the license tomorrow, Ma’am.”

  Kimbra squeezed Eve tightly against her. “Done, baby girl. You don’t even h
ave to call me ‘Ma’am’ if you don’t want to.”

  “I want to.” Eve sighed. “I don’t expect you to be a full-time Domme. But I’m done trying to run my personal life. I suck at it. I’m never as happy as when I’m with you.”

  “That makes two of us, honey.”

  * * * *

  Could it really be this…easy?

  “Did you want to talk more about…what we did?” Eve asked Kimbra. She didn’t want to, but it needed to be settled.

  “Not unless you do. What happened with me will never happen again, and it shouldn’t have happened in the first place. I’ll likely never see ’em again in my life, so…Yeah. I’m good wiping the slate clean if you are and not worrying about details.”

  Relief filled her. “Yes, please, Ma’am.” At some point she knew she’d need to pull Ron aside, privately apologize, and beg him to never mention it to Kimbra.

  But…not right now.

  Not today.

  All she wanted to do today was bask in the sweet relief washing through her, the surety that Kimbra was hers now.

  Finally.

  Kimbra chuckled. “I could get used to you calling me that.”

  “Me, too, Ma’am.”

  Kimbra finally untangled herself from Eve’s arms and walked over to where her purse and keys sat on a bookshelf near her front door. She picked up her keys and made a point of looking at Eve when she threaded the key onto the ring.

  “I don’t have any spare keys right now. We’ll go out later and I’ll get one made.”

  Eve smiled. “Yes, Ma’am.” It even sounded right, felt right calling her that.

  With that done, Kimbra held her hand out to Eve. “How about we go make a couple of hours’ worth of new memories to help get rid of our mistakes?”

  Eve took her hand. “Gladly.”

  Chapter Nine

  Kimbra led Eve down the hallway to her bedroom.

  Can it really be this easy?

  Maybe it could. She wouldn’t have to think anymore about Ivan and the haunted look in his eyes.

  I should delete that picture from my phone.