No Quarter (NOLA's Own #2) (18 page)

“Monday sometime. I don’t know. I don’t wanna sleep away from you.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “It’ll be okay. Was that Tim you were yelling at?”

“He keeps takin’ me away from you!” he snapped.

I laughed harder. “It’ll be fine, and I’ll listen to the interview,” I assured him.

“There’s no way you can go with me, is there?”

“No.”

“Yeah, didn’t think so.”

Taking my hand, he led us to the patio, and Jason hung up the call and handed the phone back to Phil.

Sheri came out the back door, smiling brightly. “So, you heard?” she asked me.

“I think the whole neighborhood heard Phil’s tantrum, yeah,” I replied dryly.

She looked at Phil, a huge smile spreading across her face. “Well, I got something for you that’s going to make your whole weekend.”

I was about to
die
of mortification. There was absolutely no way she would hand us some tubes of lube like this…
was there?
I was seriously alarmed.

“Oh, yeah? What’s that?” grumped Phil.

“I got you an appointment with Darren Wright on Monday morning. I told him it was time for your idea to be made permanent, and he says he can probably have the whole thing done in a six-hour session, providing you can take the pain.”

Phil’s face lit up with surprise and joy. “Are you fuckin’ serious?”

“Yep!”

“Fuck yes!” He dropped my hand in favor of grabbing Sheri in a massive bear hug.

Darren Wright was Louisiana’s most celebrated tattoo artist. His work was well-known and very much respected. I had called his shop, looking to see how long the wait was for an appointment, only to find out he wasn’t taking any new bookings. That was maybe a year ago, so I’d had a local artist create my Buddha half-sleeve instead, and she had done a fantastic job. I guessed I just felt slightly burned that all my boyfriend had to do was have his assistant call Wright’s shop, and
poof
, he had an all-day appointment lined up three days from now.

“Wow…” I breathed, completely pea-green with envy.

Phil set Sheri on her feet and spun around to look at me, a huge smile on his face. His crappy happy dimples were showing, too.
The ass.

“No shit! He usually doesn’t work on Mondays.”

“Well, now, you have a reason not to be grumpy about going to Lafayette,” I said.

He gave me a look that let me know he was reading into me. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re full of shit. What is it?” he demanded.

I shrugged. “It’s really nothing.”

“Try again,” he said, getting pissy.

“I called his shop last year, and they told me he wasn’t taking any more bookings.”

“Ouch!” Jason laughed. “Yeah, I guess that’s kind of a slap in the face!”

I smirked at him. “Yeah, well, I’m not
Phil fucking Deveraux,
so—”

“I’ll tell him to make an appointment for you. He’s a friend of mine. He’s a really busy artist and doing me a favor, takin’ me on such short notice.”

I shrugged. “Like I said, it was nothing. I got my tattoo from Susanne over at Inky Cajun. She did a wonderful job, so…no hard feelings.”

His nostrils flared, and he glared at me. He was about to open his mouth and say something when Sheri beat him to it.

“Hey, Kenna! I got something I need you to look at—”

Jason straightened in his seat. “You okay?”

Giving him a startled look, she replied, “Uh, yeah. Nothing to concern yourself about. Will you…” She indicated for me to join her.

I nodded and followed her inside, heading through the kitchen and up the stairs to her bedroom.

Shutting the door behind me, she retrieved a brown paper bag. “Lube!”

I busted out laughing. “Thanks!” I opened the bag.

“Here.” She stuck her hand in and took out two bottles. Holding up a red-and-white tube, she stated, “This one has numbing stuff in it, and it’s cherry flavored—”

“Flavored ass lube?” I said, astonished.
Who comes up with this stuff?

“Yep. Keep in mind though, if it numbs your ass, it’ll numb his dick, too, so if you want it to be over quick…well, at least it’s numb.”

I was cracking the fuck up.

“This stuff”—she held up the second clear bottle that had a snap top—“is greasy and slippery as all hell. It’s what I use, and I think it’s great. A little goes a long way. Use too much, and he’ll slide right off of you.”

“Good to know.” I laughed as she handed me the bottles, and I dropped them in my bag to get lost among all the other items floating around in there.

“So…are you mad that Phil’s getting a tattoo?” she asked, looking worried.

“Oh! Ha-ha! No. I’m just stupid jealous he got an appointment with Darren Wright.”

“You know, they’ve known each other since junior high. He did the tattoos on Phil’s head. The dream catchers?”

I nodded. “I’m not upset about that, Sheri, really. It just sucks to have it so blatantly pointed out that next to my boyfriend I’m a bit of a peon.”

She shook her head. “Don’t, Kenna. Phil would go ballistic if he heard you talking about yourself like that.”

“Like what? He’s a famous musician, Sheri. I’m not under any delusions. I know how it must look to people. He’s gorgeous and talented and known the world over. And I’m just some backwater bayou nobody—”

“You mean the world to
him
,” she told me.

For the first time really, I saw anger in her eyes.

“And you mean the world to me and Jason and X and Flipper, too. We love you. Probably more so because you are so very
real
. There’s nothing backwater about you. You so
are
something special. Phil…he’d go apeshit if anyone spoke about you like that—even you.”

“Well, thanks. Now, I need a hug.”

She happily wrapped her arms around me, and I sighed with bliss, pressed up against those magnificent tits.

Alys and X were going on a real date tonight. I was so excited for her, and I hoped to hear that, after all this time, the woman had gotten laid. I’d thought for sure, the way the two of them were eye-fucking each other Wednesday night, that it was going to happen then, but no, Alys had decided to hold out just a little longer.

After Sheri and I headed back downstairs, Alys called me in a mild panic.

“What am I supposed to wear?” she wailed before I could even greet her.

“Uhhh…I think you called the wrong one, Alys. I’m the one who thinks jeans are appropriate attire for weddings and funerals, remember?” I said, stooping over to pick up the gym bag I’d left on the patio.

Phil’s eyebrows shot for the sky when he heard me say that. I pointed at his half of the house to let him know that I was heading there with my stuff. He stood and opened the door for me, and then he followed me up the stairs to the bedroom.

“I’m going to be home in about an hour. Can you help me pick something out?” Alys asked.

“Sure, sure,” I replied, trudging up the stairs. “Where are you going? Shouldn’t you be asking Lili about this?”

“I tried to call her!”
snapped Alys in pissy-panic mode. “She didn’t answer the phone!”

“Well, I’m sure she’ll be home after work, so we’ll both help out, okay?”

“Good. See you soon then.”

“Yep,” I said and hung up.

“I will beat your perfect ass if you wear jeans at our weddin’, Kenna.”

Did he just…

“What’s that?” I asked, tossing my bag down and turning around to face him.

“Our weddin’. No jeans, or you’ll get a spankin’ of epic proportions.”

The look on my face must have shown just how shocked I was.

“What’s that look for?” he asked.

“Are you…
proposing
?”

“No, you’ll fuckin’ know it when I do.”

“But you plan on it?” I asked faintly. Hell, I
felt
like fainting.

Giving me a hard level look, he said, “What are you sayin’? You
don’t
want to marry me?”

I blinked at him and slowly sank down onto the bed. “Well…considering we’ve been dating for only three—”

“I knew the moment I saw you six years ago that you were the only woman I’d ever marry and have children with—”

“
Children
?” I squealed, way beyond incredulous now.
No, seriously, I’m going to fucking faint.

His eyes narrowed dangerously. “Yes.
Children
.”

What the hell has gotten into him?

“You
don’t
want children?” His question almost sounded like a threat.

“Well, to be honest, Phil, I haven’t given either much thought, considering we’ve only been together for
three fucking weeks
!” I ended up yelling, getting defensive. “No, I’ve never considered having children!”
Yeah, I guess I’m pissed.
“And I certainly don’t appreciate having it sprung on me, backing me into a corner, and being bullied into it!”

He recoiled as if I’d slapped him.

I viciously jabbed my finger in his general direction. “Quit it, Phil! If I ever married a man and had his children, it would be you and yours! For fuck’s sake, don’t do
this
to me! There’s a right time and
way
to discuss this sort of shit, and it sure as hell isn’t now—or like
this
!
Fuck
!”

“Kenna—”

“Fucking shut it, you ass!” I shouted, getting to my feet. “I’m going home. I mean it!”

“Just wait—”

“
Hell no
! You need to stop and think about shit before you just spew crap out of your mouth like that! For the love of all that’s holy! We have been dating for three weeks!
Three weeks
! And you want me to tell you I’ll marry you and bear your brats? Are you fucking high?”

“Kenna!” he roared. “Just shut the fuck up for two fuckin’ seconds!”

“Ugh!” I raced out the door and down the stairs before he could stop me.

“Woman!” he bellowed, charging after me.

I spun around to tell him to back the fuck off and instead collided with his chest, face-first. My nose connected quite hard, making my eyes water.

His arms wrapped around me. “I’m sorry. You’re right, okay? That was stupid of me.”

“Too fuckin’ right that was stupid!”

“Don’t go,” he pleaded, his voice warm, attempting to be soothing.

“I’m going,” I told him. “I was heading back soon anyway. Just give me some space.”

“Kenna—”

I shoved him, and to my horror, I saw a blood stain on his plain gray T-shirt. His eyes went wide with shock as I put my hand to my face, discovering that my nose was bleeding.

“Fuck, Kenna.”

Pulling a Lili, I flipped him the bird and spun around again. I stomped my way out the door, pinching my nose, and I furiously walked my ass through the backyard.

“Can you believe that shit?” I complained to Alys, a wad of toilet paper shoved up my left nostril. “The fucking
nerve
of him!”

She seemed to be much less nervous, listening to my rant, as she made herself ready for X. She had a smirk on her face, which could only mean she thought my predicament was hilarious.

Bitch.

“Well?” I demanded.

“Well, yeah, I can believe it. He’s probably been thinking along those lines for a long time. I don’t necessarily agree with how he mentioned the topic to you—”

“
Mentioned
? He all but fucking told me I was going to marry him and pop out his brats!
Told me,
Alys! Like, he truly owns my fucking uterus! That all this”—I waved my hand around, indicating all of me—“is at his disposal to plug up with his offspring! He never thought to bother with asking. He just
assumed
—”

Coming up to me, her face glowing and smiling, she took my hands. “What would you have told him if he’d
asked
you then?”

I just stared at her.

“You can’t honestly tell me that, since you were sixteen, there wasn’t a part of you that secretly wished to marry Phil fucking Deveraux and have his fat little giant babies.”

“So?”

“Do you want to marry him and have his children one day, Kenna?”

I wanted to stubbornly deny anything of the sort simply because he had all but mapped out the rest of my life for me. But Alys knew me. She had seen me scribble
Kenna Deveraux
in notebooks with hearts and other stupid shit.