Turns and leaps and all sorts of shit he had no idea what it was called.
And it didn’t matter.
There was only one word for it, really.
Beauty.
She started looking at him at “poison rain.”
And like it was when she danced for him before, he got her message immediately.
This was their song.
He was her shelter.
His throat closed.
At the end of the song, after another leap, she did pirouette after pirouette after pirouette as the light faded.
And then there was black.
The packed room was utterly silent.
And then it exploded.
The light came on again for Hattie to take her bow.
And she was looking at him.
Axl smiled at his woman.
And she smiled back.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Deviled Eggs
AXL
They came in the back door and Cleo was right there to share how she felt about whatever she was feeling.
Cleo didn’t get the chance.
Hattie launched in.
“Get this, Sleekmeister General. My mother is dating a dude named Shiloh. He carves logs for a living and reeks of pot.”
Cleo assumed her disapproving face, though, it had to be said, that was her normal resting expression. It had just been temporarily replaced by her “What the Fuck Are You Two Doing Interrupting My Naptime” face.
“I know,” Hattie agreed.
“Honey,” Axl said, his voice shaking.
She whirled on him.
“You think this is funny?” she demanded.
“A little,” he lied.
It wasn’t a little funny.
It was hilarious.
Her head cocked dangerously and Axl tried to focus on that rather than her gorgeous curls moving with it.
“It’s funny my mother ambushes our meet-the-boyfriend brunch by making me meet her boyfriend? One she hasn’t mentioned word one about? One she’s been seeing now for three months, again, without mentioning word one. One who carves logs for a living and reeks of pot?”
“I’m seeing you don’t see why she did that, considering she was nervous as fuck, Shiloh was nervous as fuck, and you aren’t taking this too well.”
“He carves logs for a living!” she shrieked.
And Cleo took off.
Apparently, she wasn’t a fan of ranting women.
Axl hooked Hattie by the waist and pulled her to him before he wrapped his other arm around her.
Because, even if he also wasn’t a fan of ranting women, he was a fan of Hattie.
“Babe, chill out,” he urged.
“I cannot believe this,” she said.
“Yeah, I got that message all the way home from Mercury Café.”
“This is unbelievable,” she mostly repeated.
This time he didn’t respond.
“I mean, if this goes somewhere, and they’re clearly into each other, so it’s going somewhere, what kind of provider is he going to be?” she asked preposterously. “I think he was actually high at brunch. I’m not sure it’s a good mix, carving wood, which would, I assume, require sharp instruments, and being stoned.”
“Wait. Did we get thrown back to 1952 and we gotta worry what kind of provider your mom’s boyfriend is gonna be when she’s got a successful cake decorating business that she’s kept successful for nearly twenty years?” he asked.
She looked chastised at that.
“If that’s the case, don’t worry,” he went on to tease. “I got you covered. And I’m all in for you to wear a short, little apron over your tight skirt and twinset when you make me dinner and greet me at the door with a martini. Though I think we need to interrupt our plans of doing nothing but fucking the rest of the day to go out and buy you a string of pearls.”
She slapped his arm halfheartedly then asked, “You know what a twinset is?”
“My mother, until very recently, was the dutiful wife of a prominent attorney. Once a month, she had what she called her Twinset Lunch. Which was supposed to be about being on a guild to raise money for some charity, but from what Mom said, it was a chance for all the women to try to beat each other out on who had the best set of pearls. I think Mom has seven sets. And those were something Dad never bitched about buying her.”
She made a face.
Adorable.
“Yeah,” he agreed. “Think that’s the same thing Mom thought of it.”
Her expression changed again, as did her tone.
“You hear from her today?” she asked.
And Axl’s mood changed to match her tone.
“Yes, she’s going out to buy some workout clothes. There’s a gym in her building. She wants to take advantage of it.”
“Good,” she murmured, what she didn’t ask hanging in the air, which was the reason for Axl’s mood change.
He answered it anyway. “He’s texted seven times so far today.”
“Honey,” she whispered.
He told her something she knew. “He’s pissed, behaving like a dick and acting like this is all about him. Not a surprise.”
It could safely be said Sylas Pantera was blindsided in coming home on Friday evening, thinking he’d have dinner with his docile, soul-sucked-out-of-her wife and then do whatever it was his father did when he was winding down from a week.
Only for him to find her closet empty, her vanity vacant, picture frames and pieces around the house missing.