The Orange Cat and Other Cainsville Tales (Cainsville 3.5)

More thunder, and he was acutely aware they were under trees and in water, and while part of him--a very particular part--said fuck it, the pause was enough for him to reconsider not just the weather but the game.

Did he really want a quick blowjob before the storm rolled in? He might have been grumbling about the game, but he had been enjoying the tease. The build up. When it ended, he wanted a helluva lot more than a quick fix--for both of them.

Ricky put his hands under Liv's arms and hoisted her up. "Sorry, I know you want to, but unless you forfeit, I'm afraid you have to wait."

"Damn. I was just getting the hang of it."

"Well, if you want more practice, there's a town nearby, and it's late enough to stop."

"We can come back tonight?"

"If you insist."

"Oh, I do. Mysteries to solve, and all that."

He grinned. "And all that."

Four - Liv

I hadn't told Ricky about the castle in the cavern. I would. It wasn't as if I'd seen this wondrous and impossible thing and then--sex!--promptly forgot it. But sometimes, I need to take the more important things and set them aside until I have time to get them straight in my mind. Sex is the perfect distraction for that, particularly when it comes in the form of such a unique encounter.

The memory of it made me grin as I hugged Ricky's back, my arms wrapped around him, wind rushing past as we outran the storm. I closed my eyes and luxuriated in the sheer joy of the ride, ripping along those winding mountain roads.

And if there was any other reason why I held off telling him . . . another reason I'd been very grateful for the distraction of the lady of the lake . . . well, I was letting the tantalizing memories of that encounter and the thrill of the motorcycle ride wash away those, too.

The truth? When I'd seen that shimmering gold castle, my first thought had been, "Well, this is a little improbable." My second? I can't wait to tell Gabriel.

Gabriel is the one who's been at my side from the start of this journey. The one who'd been with me when we discovered the secret of Cainsville, refuge for Welsh fae. When we'd discovered our own connection to it, our fae blood. When we'd discovered my role as the embodiment of Mallt-y-Nos, Matilda of the Hunt. And then . . .

And then his role. As Gwynn.

You dream of some fairy prince and say I'm him?

He'd later accepted that and apologized for his initial reaction. But I could not forget how it felt, getting that from the one person who'd supported me through all of this, the person who'd helped me accept it when I just wanted to scream, "Y'all are fucking crazy."

I'd seen that castle in the cavern and instantly wanted to tell Gabriel. We'd debate whether it could be a vision, an omen or something more. Then we'd take it to Rose and see if she could find anything like it in human folklore. To Patrick next, for the fae version. We'd--

We'd do none of that. And it wasn't just because I was almost two thousand miles away. I could still call Gabriel, talk to him, ask him to investigate. We'd parted on good terms, me just taking off on vacation. No big deal.

Except it hadn't been the same between us. I feared it never would be. That I'd never take anything like this to him again. Never want to.

Which was fine. I could talk to Ricky. He'd be just as keen to hear it, just as keen to hash it out and solve the mystery. He's the one I should have been relying on all along. The one I could trust. It'd just taken me far too long to figure that out.

#

It was a little early to stop for the day, but neither of us really had to get back to Chicago on exactly the date we'd planned. Ricky was done school for the term. I had work, but I'd built in a two-day buffer, and Gabriel had already made it clear I could take more, yet another way of apologizing for what had happened.

So despite the fact it was only late afternoon, we'd booked ourselves into an inn for the night, and now we were enjoying the late-day sun on an otherwise-empty tavern back deck. The locals were all inside, the server saying it was "a mite hot" for sitting out. The mercury hadn't even hit eighty, but apparently, that was a heat wave here. So we had the deck and the gorgeous mountain view to ourselves along with a couple of ice-cold local beers and a heaping basket of steamed mussels.

Ricky was on the phone to his dad. They'd had business to discuss first, and he'd taken the call off the deck for that part. Given that the family business is organized crime, discretion is always wise, especially when I'm the investigator for their legal firm. Even if they won't be openly discussing business, it's safer if I can honestly claim full deniability.

Of course I know what they do for a living. Perfectly legit business ventures make up more than half the Satan's Saints' revenue, but when Ricky wanted to lay all the cards on the table, that wasn't the part he talked about. If anything, he downplayed the legitimate side. It's the rest--the drugs and the gun-running--that matters. And I'm okay with that. My parents are in prison, serving life sentences for murders that my mother did commit. My boss is a defense attorney whose ethical code could be written on the back of a postage stamp. I'm okay with all of it. There's too much fae in my blood to feel differently.

What matters to me is that Ricky was happily chatting to his dad, and their relationship is one of the best I've ever seen. What matters to me is that when the server came out, he would put the phone aside, and he'd be friendly and polite and generous with the tip. What matters to me is that even as he talked to his father, he would find ways to include me in the conversation, comments and asides. What matters to me, then, is him: the guy, not the member of the biker gang.

I'm especially happy that Ricky and his dad have gotten over their own rough patch, one I'd inadvertently caused. Don Gallagher knows nothing of the fae world beyond the stories his mother told him, both of them unaware they were more than stories. But something in his Cwn Annwn blood senses it, told him Ricky should stay away from me, leave me for Gabriel. That was safe. For all of us, but mostly for Ricky.

I wouldn't say Don has changed his mind. He likes me well enough, just not necessarily as Ricky's girlfriend. But he has accepted me and any tension between them has eased.