I felt my teeth clench and I forced them to unclench when I informed him, “This makes me uncomfortable.”
“Give it time, you’ll get used to it,” he replied immediately and I felt my chest start burning.
I took in a breath.
Then I stated with forced calm, “This means something to me, Mike. I’ve been taking care of myself for a while. I’m used to doing it. I’m proud I’m able to do it so well. And I want to help you out.”
Something about what I said struck him in a place that was unhappier than his current unhappy. I knew this when he knifed to sitting, taking me with him, but his arms locked around me, keeping me in place.
And I would know what struck him as unhappier when he returned, “I don’t need help. I’ve been doin’ just fine, I’ll keep doin’ just fine. And it means something to me that you let go what you had in Texas to be here. I know you came to help deal with the shit at the farm but I also know you came to be with me. I’m not gonna let you take a financial hit for that. Your ranch rents, we’ll talk. It won’t be half. No fuckin’ way. But we’ll talk and we’ll talk then not now.”
“I know what I can afford financially, Mike,” I snapped.
“After tellin’ me your profits have been down for two years to the point you and your manager had to start sellin’ your shit over the internet and recruiting new galleries, are you tellin’ me that wouldn’t be a hit?”
It would but that wasn’t the point.
“That’s not the point,” I replied.
“Dusty, it is. You do not take a hit for me. You already took a hit for me, leavin’ your life, comin’ up here to be with me. That’s the first and the last.”
There were clearly some times when Mike’s bossy and macho weren’t all that cute.
“You can’t make that decision for the both of us,” I retorted.
“I just did,” he fired back.
I glared at him a second then whispered irately, “Mike, that is not cool. I get you’re a man, all man, boy do I get that, and most of that’s good. This is bad.”
I knew he was losing patience when he replied in a low voice, “Dusty, we’ll talk about this shit and come up with a deal when you rent your ranch.”
“And until then you’re happy for me to be uncomfortable with the situation?” I shot back.
“No, until then I’m happy for you to stop being so fuckin’ stubborn, understand I got your back with this and I’m tellin’ you the compromise we come to will be delayed which makes me comfortable.”
“That’s not an acceptable solution for me,” I told him.
“Dusty –”
That was when I lost it and cut him off to declare, “Choice, Mike. I move back to the farm or find an apartment or I stay here and pay my way. That’s it. Those are your choices. What do you choose?”
It came out of my mouth and even as I was speaking I saw his face turn to granite and I realized I’d done something horribly wrong.
But, unwisely, I did not stop.
I would know this was true when his hands went to my hips, he lifted me off him, planted my ass in the bed and angled out of it. But instantly he turned, put a fist into the mattress beside my hip and leaned in so our faces were close.
Then he growled, low and rumbling, “You get I’m a man? Then you learn you don’t give a man like me an ultimatum. Not ever. You wanna be an independent woman to the point you refuse to compromise, have at it, darlin’. But you make that choice. You don’t force that shit on me. You can’t have all the good parts of me bein’ who I am then expect to lead me around by my dick whenever you feel like it. That’s not gonna happen. You made a sacrifice for me. I live with that daily. It is not a sacrifice havin’ you in this house. The mortgage doesn’t increase, the utilities I’ll barely feel. It means somethin’ to you to pay your way, terrific. What you gotta get is it means somethin’ to me to have your back while you’re settlin’ in my home and your life is settling elsewhere.”
Then, after warning me off making ultimatums, he made one of his own. Except, considering how pissed he was, his was a whole lot scarier.
“You can’t handle that, the farm is right next door.”
After delivering that, he pushed off the bed, turned, bent, snatched his jeans off the floor, stalked to the dresser, grabbed some stuff then prowled into the bathroom where he closed the door.
I pulled the covers over me but other than that, I didn’t move. This was mainly because I figured I’d just fucked up. I’d taken it too far. And I forgot who I was dealing with.
Mike came out of the bathroom and immediately I called softly, “Honey –”
“Pissed now, Dusty,” Mike interrupted, not looking at me as his long legs took him straight to the door. “We’ll talk later when I’m not.”
Then without me getting a word in edgewise, he was gone.