Dingo’s light speech made me think Deloy hadn’t seen the offensive article yet. I walked the few blocks to Levon’s studio, pausing to look in the front window of Sledgehammer’s enticing butcher shop and grocery. Someone had really made a nice layout with a checkered picnic blanket and jars of jam, olives, and fresh loaves of bread. I realized Deloy had probably done it, since he’d started work there part-time as a checker. Lots of shops on Watchtower Street were still empty after being abandoned twenty-five years ago in a giant exodus of “outsiders” away from Cornucopia. But the MC’s revitalization program had really put a new face on the downtown area. A guy was even at work painting the Elks Lodge.
And these ruling motherfuckers, these stale old mummies in their clothes of righteousness, wanted to run these guys out of town on a rail? These bikers were the best thing that had ever happened to the town. Real estate was booming, more outsiders were moving in to take advantage of the low housing prices and all the new services. I’d even read in that odious newspaper that they were thinking of reopening the elementary school.
Levon was up on a tall ladder hammering a bracket or something for an enormous mirror. The interior painting had all been done and everything smelled fresh. New mats had been laid out on the floor, and I didn’t want to step on them in my heeled boots.
I called out, “Can’t Deloy help you before he starts work at Sledgehammer’s in the morning?” Levon jumped and fumbled with the hammer. I didn’t realize he didn’t see me, and I gasped. “Oh! I’m so sorry!”
“I’m coming down.”
He wore nothing but one of those tight wifebeater T-shirts and a pair of completely worn, low-slung jeans. Many implements hanging from his belt had the added advantage of dragging them down a bit, revealing the waistband of his boxers. I had plenty of time to admire the gorgeous slope of his back, the play of his biceps, the taut, almost concave plane of his belly as he descended the ladder.
I’d been slowly admitting my huge attraction to that man. Giovanni had only texted me once more since I’d hung up on him. I was proud that I hadn’t contacted him. I was sticking to my guns. He could have the damned rented Provo condo. The nurse at Dr. Lee’s office was set to go into labor in about three weeks, and I had to be on standby to take over. In the meantime, Levon’s surprise kiss in the middle of the night had stuck in my mind like an earworm song playing over and over on a loop. Could I have something strictly physical with the nasty, animalistic former prostitute?
Why not? Why not be a player like my boyfriend? Ex-boyfriend, I should say.
Levon loped over with the poise and gait of a runway model. He’d grabbed a rag and was wiping his throat. A rush of endorphins spread up my chest, and I knew my face was getting red. I lifted my chin to show I was no slave to my hormones, but when he eyeballed my paltry, flat chest, my confidence sank again.
“Did you see the article?” I asked.
He was rubbing the back of his neck. His nipples stood out sharply under the white ribbing of the flimsy shirt. With a little shock that went straight to my pussy, I noticed for the first time he had a nipple ring. Why hadn’t I noticed before? He sometimes went shirtless in the house, much to my frustration. He must’ve just put the tiny hoop back on. I felt my hands clenching into fists, and forced my brain to relax them.
He responded, “Yeah. What a bunch of horseshit. He threatened me he was going to ruin Deloy’s life, but I didn’t think he’d actually do it. He can say anything he fucking well pleases about me. I’ve built up this steel wall against criticism, but taking it out on Deloy? When the kid’s already suffered so much at their fucking hypocritical, twisted hands? Don’t worry, Oaklyn. We’re digging up dirt on that creeper. He’s got as many skeletons in his closet as John Wayne Gacy.”
“What about the guy who’s trying to classify your business as occult?” I asked.
Levon’s mouth was a thin line. “Yeah. I’m taking care of that dog killer tomorrow night. There’s a crab feed going on at the Elks Lodge. Assassins are all showing up to make their presence felt, to let those zombified pedos know there’s a new boss in town.”
“Oh, dear. Levon, I seriously don’t want you doing anything that might get you hurt or in trouble.”
He chuckled, but his face was still bitter. “No worries. What we’ve got planned is just a little taste of things to come if they don’t give me my fucking business license. And as a martial arts studio, not some fucking woo-woo herbal essence store.”
“Good. Not that I’m against taking a stand for yourself, of course. There was no reason in the world for anyone to write that slander about you and Deloy.”
“Agreed. Now.” Levon began wandering. A new, almost shy demeanor had come over him. His fingers toyed with one of the many cases and devices clipped to his belt. I noted a Taser, his phone, what was probably a knife, and of course the pistol stuck into his back waistband. Leaning against a desk, he tilted his head and asked, “Will you be my plus one to the crab feed?”
I tried to identify the feeling now spreading through my chest and lungs. I inhaled deeply, deciding it was a feeling of tingling, illicit excitement. He’d kissed me so hungrily under the deep cover of night, but to show up with me in public? I was starting to think we might be something. “A date?” I mused.
He nodded. “A date.”
“All right. Pick me up at my house?”