Kristen Ashley - Rock Chick Revolution

So I asked, “You okay?”

“Need to talk to you,” he told me.

Uh-oh.

This could mean anything.

“About what?” I asked cautiously.

“What’re you doin’ on Wednesday?” he asked back.

I was likely taking pole dancing classes from Daisy.

I didn’t tell him this.

“Nothing… yet,” I answered.

He lifted his hand to his throat, where the tie that was there earlier was now gone and likely in some trash receptacle. His fingers encountered no tie so he lifted his hand to wrap it around the back of his neck and he rubbed.

Oh man.

This was not a good sign.

“Tex—”

“Indy’s standing up with me,” he cut me off to say bizarrely. “Trixie’s doin’ it for Nancy. We only need two witnesses, but I still want you and Duke standin’ beside me. Indy and Duke already agreed. I need you at the Justice of the Peace on Wednesday when I marry Nancy.”

Ho.

Lee.

Crap!

“What?” I whispered.

“On Wednesday, me and Nancy’re gettin’ hitched,” he stated, and I felt my body lock and my eyes get hot in that way that this was the kind of stuff I knew would take a miracle to hold back the tears.

Nancy was Jet’s mother. Nancy was the bomb. Nancy had also been Tex’s girlfriend for a good long while.

But Tex and a Justice of the Peace?

I started teetering and Tex started talking.

Fast.

“It’s no big deal. We just do our thing, get the fuck outta there, and Blanca’s givin’ us a little shindig in her backyard. Just family. You don’t even have to wear a dress. You can wear jeans.”

“I… you… Nancy…” I stammered, stopped and felt the wet hit my eyes. “Tex,” I whispered.

He stared at me, looking agitated, then more agitated then finally he declared, “The cats like her.”

I burst out laughing.

Still doing it, I threw myself at him and wrapped his massive bulk in my arms (as best I could, my arms didn’t go around).

His arms closed around me and they did this tight.

Tex and I had also never hugged it out.

Now that we were doing that, it felt amazing.

My body bucked as the emotion shoved itself up my throat and I barely managed to force it back down.

I felt his bulk bow as he put his lips to my ear and that was when Tex—yes, Tex—whispered, “I take it you’ll be there.”

I turned my head to get to his ear and my voice was croaky when I whispered back, “With bells on.”

“Thank you, darlin’.” He kept whispering.

My body bucked again and the swallow was audible, and loud, when I beat back the sob.

“What’s goin’ on?”

That was Ren.

I twisted my neck to look at Ren as Tex’s hold loosened and one of his massive mitts hit the small of my back in order to direct me into Ren’s arms.

When Ren had me, Tex answered, “Nuthin’. Gotta go.”

But he didn’t go.

He caught my eyes and held them before he lifted a beefy hand and rested it on the top of my head.

Warmth flowed through me.

Only then did he take off.

Quickly.

“Baby?” Ren called, his hand coming to my jaw and tilting it up.

“We have plans Wednesday,” I declared. “I’m standing up with Tex while he marries Nancy, and then we’re going to Blanca’s for an after party.”

Ren did a slow blink at me before his head turned and he looked in the direction where Tex took off. Then he looked back at me.

“I’m gettin’ a feeling that, you in my life and not just my bed, my social calendar is gonna be busy,” he noted.

“You might want to buy a whole new calendar with lots of blank space,” I suggested and got a lip quirk and arm squeeze. Then I shared a colossal understatement. “The Rock Chicks like to party.”

“Right,” he mumbled, lips still quirking.

“So,” I started, “Would you like me to quit avoiding them and take you to my parents to introduce you?”

His brows shot up and he asked disbelievingly, “You doin’ that shit with sex hair?”

He had a point.

“Uh…” I mumbled, but did it beginning to laugh.

“No,” he answered and dipped his face to me. “Tame that mane, honey, and the answer changes to yes.”

Time for another trip to the bathroom.

I was about to tell Ren where I was going when Roxie, in a dress like mine but in teal, rushed up and stopped on a wobble.

“Did Uncle Tex ask you?” she queried excitedly.

“Yep,” I answered as Ren let me go, but tucked me into his side with his arm around me.

“Did you say yes?” she asked.

“Yep,” I answered.

“Did you have sex in the cloakroom?” she went on.

“Yep,” I answered, that word shaking with humor, and my body shook with it when I heard and felt Ren sigh.

She looked over her shoulder in the direction of where Hank was standing and talking to Tod and Stevie.

And she did this muttering, “That’s out.”

“Please, do not tell me where you and Hank have sex during this reception,” I begged.

She looked back at me. “You’re one of my closest friends. Friends talk sex. Everyone knows that.”

“And he’s my brother,” I reminded her.

“It’s not like you don’t know we do the deed,” Roxie returned.

“I do know that,” I retorted. “I just don’t want details. I’ve already had so many details, it’s a wonder I’m not in therapy.”

“Location isn’t a detail,” she shot back.

God!

“La, la, la, I’m not listening, la, la, la,” I chanted.

“Oh God, Roxie’s talking about Hank and her doing the business.”

This was said by Indy (in aqua, like me) who, when I turned my head, I saw was approaching with Lee.

“Then we’re leaving,” Lee muttered.

Indy giggled and pulled him to us, sharing, “Well, don’t use the handicapped bathroom upstairs.”

“Fuck.” Lee kept muttering.

I bit back laughter.

Roxie didn’t.

“Or the cloakroom.” Stella’s kickass husky voice came at us from the side, and I turned to see her (in teal) and Mace (like Lee and Hank, in a tux), joining us.

“That’s two for the cloakroom,” Roxie stated.

“Who else?” Stella asked.

“Ren and me,” I told her.

“Ah,” she mumbled.

“Jesus,” Mace grunted.

“What are you talking about?” Jet (in baby blue, though she didn’t have a chiffon-exposing midriff; she had a figure-skimming, kickass pregnant lady’s bridesmaid dress) with Eddie (in a tux) asked.

“Rock Chick/Hot Bunch wedding assignations,” Indy answered.

“Oh shit,” Eddie murmured.

“Handicapped bathroom,” Jet shared.

“Fuck me,” Eddie clipped at the same time Lee bit out, “Christ.”

Jet turned to her husband. “What?”

I didn’t bite back laughter then. I couldn’t. I just let it fly.

“What’s funny?” Jules (in teal) asked, and we all looked to see her and Vance coming in around Indy and Lee.

“Cloakroom or handicapped bathroom?” Roxie asked.

Jules knew exactly what we were talking about and answered instantly, “Cloakroom.”

“Popular choice,” Stella put in.

“In about fifteen minutes, we can get Sadie and Hector’s info. But my guess, handicapped bathroom since they ran into Ren and me on our way out of the cloakroom,” I told them.

The women nodded knowingly.

Eddie requested, “Can we stop talking about this?”

“No,” Daisy (in baby blue) stated, dragging Marcus to our group and stopping. “Or at least not until you tell me what you’re talkin’ about.”

“Cloakroom or handicapped bathroom?” Jet shared at the same time she asked.

“Oh, sugar,” Daisy waved a hand with silver polish on her long nails tipped with aquamarine rhinestones in the shapes of hearts, “Me and Marcus got a room. All access all the time. Comprende?”

I leaned up to Ren and whispered, “We’re doing that next time”

“What?” he asked, looking down his nose at me. “Did you say something? My ears are bleeding.”

At that, I burst out laughing.

“What’s funny?” Shirleen queried, also in aqua (a Rock Chick wedding party stretched long, believe you me). “No, don’t tell me. I don’t give a shit. What I give a shit about is that I’m about to whale on those bitches Ava calls sisters so someone needs to calm me down. With brandy. Or bourbon. I don’t care which. I just spent five minutes with those two where they ripped every woman here’s outfit to shreds along with complainin’—at length—about not bein’ in the weddin’ party, when every fool knows those two treated their sister like trash for years. So how do they think they’re gonna get a pretty dress? Don’t answer that. The answer is, no one here knows how bitches’ minds work.”

She sucked in a huge breath.

Then she admitted, “I was beginning to get scared—me… Shirleen—that suddenly their fangs would come out and those vampires would lay waste to the entire guest list.”

We all looked toward Ava’s sisters, Marilyn and Sofia, who nobody liked. Even Ava.

They were in a huddle, clearly whispering, lips set in sneers, eyes to a woman I didn’t know, but I thought she was Luke’s aunt (or something). Which meant she was in her fifties. And there was nothing wrong with her outfit. She looked great.

Then again, Marilyn and Sofia could talk trash about anybody. They’d cut their teeth honing that skill through a lifetime of abuse piled on Ava.

And obviously they hadn’t stopped.

Also, neither of them had a steady man.

That said it all.

“What’s happening?” Sadie asked, pulling Hector into the group.

Jules looked at Hector, whose black eyes were still burning, then at Sadie, who totally had sex hair (like me), before she wisely stated, “We’ll tell you later.”

“Okay,” Sadie replied and leaned into her man as he slid his arm around her shoulders.

Her eyes were bright and happy.

A shrill whistle pierced the air and we all looked in its direction.

When we did, we saw it came from Luke (also in a tux, obviously; black with black shirt and a long black tie, unlike his groomsmen who all had white shirts and ties to match the women’s dresses).

He was standing on the dance floor.

He was also crooking his finger at something.

Our heads swung in unison to the direction he was crooking, and we watched Ava wending her way through tables, her face soft, her eyes locked on her new husband.

She was wearing an ivory, chiffon column dress with a ruched strapless bodice and rows of soft, wispy, vertical ruffles falling down the skirt. The whole thing was covered with a sheen of what looked like glitter. The sides of her hair were pulled back with teacup ivory roses behind her ears, the back falling in curls.

Her dewy, peachy makeup was applied by Jet.

Her hair was done by Indy.

She made it to Luke on the dance floor. The minute she did, he grabbed her hand, turned his head to the DJ and jerked up his chin.

His intent could not be missed.

And none of us missed it.

“Holy crap,” Indy breathed.

“Oh my God,” Jet murmured.

“Holy cow,” Roxie whispered.

“Damn,” Jules sighed.

“Lordy be,” Stella husked.

“Aces,” Sadie mumbled.

“Oowee,” Shirleen chortled.

“Well, all right,” Daisy chimed.

“Righteous,” I muttered.

Luke pulled Ava into his arms.

Ava shoved her face in his neck.

Tom Petty’s “Alright for Now” started playing.

My insides melted.

Luke swayed to the music, his neck bent, cheek pressed to Ava’s hair, his new wife held close in his arms.

I curled into Ren’s front and both his arms closed around me.

Hank approached and claimed Roxie.

We all watched.

Silently.

The song lasted two minutes.

And those two minutes were two of the best minutes of my life.

Because in a function room in a kickass hotel in Denver, Colorado, watching two people I loved, two people in love, dancing to a simple beautiful song, was two minutes of experiencing sheer beauty.

The morning after Luke and Ava’s wedding, I walked into Ren’s bedroom carrying a tray.

That morning, for the first time since our first night together, I woke up before Ren.

And I decided that this time was going to go a whole lot better.

So I walked in seeing Ren still asleep on his stomach, the bedclothes down to his waist, the smooth olive skin and defined muscles of his back bared to me.