“And I give you, Vanessa the Undresser.” Casey waved his hand in an elaborate manner before us. Imogen was trying desperately to get Vanessa to put her top back on, while Belle laughed loudly and hooted with encouragement. Bruce Lee, on the other hand, looked ready to pass out, and Rodney was gentleman enough to turn his gaze away.
Lionel approached us, shaking his head, wrapping his arm around Casey’s waist. “Hairdresser by day, stripper by night. Don’t worry, she only does this when she passes the five glass marker.”
Imogen had managed to coerce drunken Vanessa back into her top while Decker laughed at my side.
“Vanessa the Undresser, aptly named.” He leaned down and whispered into my ear, “For some reason, Country, the whole time I was looking at that beautiful, semi-naked woman, all this not-ready-to-settle-down unmanly man could think about was your cute, white, cotton-tails.”
I automatically slapped him across the chest while he laughed, a low deep rumble that seemed to sink into my head, down through my body and right to my lady parts. I caught Casey’s knowing smile and shot him my laser beam glare, which was pretty weak and pathetic. After all, I was a harmless little duck swimming way out of her depth.
*
“So, what on earth possessed a born and bred Texan to turn in her horse and move to New York?” Decker asked as he lounged comfortably on my sofa. It was only nine, still early yet I had yawned my way out of the party and was now supposed to be climbing into my favorite Sponge Bob jammies and fluffy slippers. Instead, Decker had either missed my go-away cues or was choosing to ignore them. I grabbed a beer from the fridge and reluctantly offered one to him. I didn’t want him getting too cozy; he was sucking up too many of my brain cells and I needed a little space to focus and recoup. Vanessa had tried hard to get him to stay at the party and have a drink with her. It had irked me, yet I had encouraged Decker to stay. If he wanted to hook up, it wasn’t my place to interfere. Much to my relief and dismay, he politely declined Vanessa’s invitation and followed me home. He shook his head at the outstretched beer before him, lacing his hands behind his head, stretching out his long legs. He might not have wanted a drink, but he sure as hell seemed to be settling in for the long haul. I collapsed onto the sofa, as far away from him as I could manage without looking like a little fraidy-cat, and opened the beer I had just offered him.
“For future reference, I’ve never owned a horse.” I shrugged. “I guess I needed a change? I’d had a run of bad luck.”
“Such as? I mean, apart from your father of course,” Decker asked.
My father might have been the most painful of my downward spiral, but my luck had been so darn bad I had considered the possibility I might have killed someone’s cute black kitty cat. I took another long drink, a little liquid bravery before I spilled my bad juju.
“It started with my dad passing away. Then a month later, I did an edit for an author who was also a friend, her manuscript was full of plagiarism and I called her on it. It didn’t go down so well, and, needless to say, we are no longer friends. I crashed my car, my Beetle. I loved my Beetle. I decided to sell my family home, but the kitchen caught on fire the week it went on the market, so I had to pull it off to have some fairly major repairs done. The editing hitch I had with my so called ‘friend’ led to her spreading a few nasty rumors, so business dropped off and I had to pick up a part time job waitressing. The owner of that restaurant had a heart attack and passed away, so I lost my job. It was a slow sloping road to misery that got drastically steeper the day I started dating a guy who turned out to be two sandwiches short of a picnic, if you catch my drift.”
Decker was quiet for a moment. “I’m not sure I catch your drift,” he said.
“Oh, you know, just the usual. He started out all sweet and attentive and then our relationship ended up with a restraining order.”
“Explain,” he muttered.
“It was no biggie. He just got a tad possessive and handcuffed me to his kitchen table for a few hours.” I waved it off, but in reality, the entire thing had rattled me to my core. That’s when I decided I needed to know how to protect myself. Learning how to throw a punch and knee a man in the kahunas with Keely The Kickass Tiger was worth every damn penny.
“Handcuffs?” Decker growled, and I waved his outrage off. “He handcuffed you?”
“Only for a few hours; his roommate found me. I called the police and Bradley sorted out the rest.”
“What do you mean Bradley sorted out the rest?” Decker leaned forward, his intense gaze on mine, his elbows resting on his knees.