Chapter 27

Ricci

“Stop laughing, Ivy, and help me figure out what to wear!” I grumble, glaring at her through our FaceTime call. “He’s going to be here soon.”

She sticks her tongue out at me then replies, “In about three hours, you goose.”

Sighing, I flop down onto the bed and groan. “I know but gah, I’m so darned nervous!”

It’s been a week and a half since I got out of the hospital for a second time since coming to live in Possum Run and tonight is our first ‘real’ date. The only reason I’m defining it like that is because as Ivy so astutely reminded me a few minutes earlier when I was in a full-blown panic about what to wear, he’s seen me at my worst already. Plus, since the first hospital stay, we’ve actually spent a lot of time hanging out. But, like I reminded her, that’s different than a date, although… Ivy’s voice breaks into my thoughts and I focus once again on her.

“You’re thinking too hard, Ricci,” she says. “Really, you are. The man has been taken with you since the first time I met him. He barely left your side, remember? Not only that, but you yourself have told me and Lacie both how often y’all do stuff together. This isn’t really any different, sweetie. The only difference is that this time, you’ve labeled it as a date.”

I consider what she’s just said. He has seen me in everything from a hospital gown to my work uniform to jeans and a T-shirt. I’ve been beaten to hell and back, worn no makeup, had my makeup virtually melted off because of the heat, and been fresh from the shower. My hair’s been a tangled, bloody mess, a sweaty, fevered mess, and clean. Yet regardless of the countless ways I’ve been in his presence, he always treats me the same.

As though he wants me there.

“Keep talking, you’re getting through,” I whisper before sticking my tongue out at her.

“It’s about time, you’re under three hours now,” she teases. “Did he say where y’all were going?”

“Yes. Possum Run has an annual festival and it’s in town. They’ve got rides, food, and even animals! Oh, and games of course.”

“Alright. Wear your new jeans, the cute ones that have the fabric behind the holes, plus the red shirt with those rhinestones. You’ll be easy to spot in a crowd because the lights will make you all sparkly. You should probably either wear your hair in a high ponytail or maybe even braid it, although your braids are usually uneven. Dammit. Okay, I’m on my way so I can French braid your hair for you,” she declares. “Be there shortly.”

“Fine, Miss Bossy McBosserson,” I retort, grinning at her. “I’ll go and take my shower and get dressed. Just use your key.”

* * *

I’ve got my license and debit card tucked into my back pocket, some money shoved into the front, and am playing with my phone while I wait for Manny to arrive. Even though Manny sold the dresser that was in the workshop when I came to town shortly after finishing it, he hadn’t had a chance to deliver it until now. Between finishing Sunday’s tattoo, taking care of me after my first hospital stay and now this assault, then getting me moved into my new apartment, he has been a busy man, so today, he went to deliver it to the new owner. Ivy just left with instructions ‘not to do anything she wouldn’t do’ and to call her in the morning, so now I’m sitting patiently.

Or maybe not.

Because even though I wasn’t sure initially I wanted to ever get involved with a man again, Manny’s had my attention from the beginning. He’s hardworking, committed to his family, and despite the way so many in town still treat him, he doesn’t lash back at them. When I asked him why he didn’t put them in their place, he told me they only knew the rumors of what happened, so what they thought didn’t matter.

A knock on my door has me smiling as I glance around my apartment while heading in that direction. Because he’s fussed at me before for just opening the door, once I get there, I call out, “Who is it?”

“Some tattooed stranger who wants to take you for a ride,” his voice teases through the wood. “It’s me, sweetheart. You ready to go?”

Opening the door, I smile up at him and say, “Yeah, just need to grab my keys.” With that, I snag my keychain that hangs on the rack just inside the door, handing them to him so he can lock up the apartment. Then, he takes my hand in his and we walk back down together then out through the back to his truck.

Which, I might add, he’s had detailed since earlier in the day when I saw him after dropping off some food for him, Sunday, and Jett. He opens my door for me, something he always does, reminding me of how Papa B was with Mama B, then once I’m safely inside, he closes my door and rounds the front of the truck. Once he’s inside and we’re both buckled up, he grins at me.

“Ready, Ricci?”

“I’m ready.”

* * *

I can’t stop laughing as we exit the haunted house. Why, you ask? Because while going around one of the last few corners, a masked man with a chainsaw jumped out and Manny screeched like a teenage girl.

“Stop, you’re giving me a complex,” he grumbles, grabbing my hand and lacing our fingers together.

“You have to admit, it was funny,” I tease.

“I wasn’t expecting anything else,” he points out, leading me to the countless food trucks.

“Expect the unexpected,” I reply. “It’s what Papa B always told me.”

“He sounds like a wise man. Do you want food or junk?” he asks, as we stop in front of several trucks.

One has Italian sausage, which I love, but the other has funnel cakes. “I like them both,” I admit.

“Then we’ll get both. Whatever you can’t eat, I’ll finish.” Leading me over to a table, he grins then leans down and lightly pecks my lips. “Be right back, hold my spot.”

While I wait, I people watch, seeing a lot of folks who are regulars in the diner. I briefly wonder if I should think about looking for another job, but I genuinely enjoy what I do, plus I only work about four or five hours first thing in the morning, then I have the rest of the day to do what I want.

“What has you thinking so deeply?” he asks, arriving at the table with his arms laden down with food. I quickly grab the drinks and set his across from me, then watch as he divvies the rest up, placing a stack of napkins in the middle.

“I was wondering if I should get a different job,” I admit.

“Do you like what you do?” he asks, opening up a mustard pack and handing it to me.

I’m not sure if he realizes it, but him doing those simple, almost unconscious things, makes me feel special. And it’s all just a part of who he is as a person, it’s not an act to try and get into my pants.

“Yes, but I’m not using my degree. Shouldn’t I?” I question, taking the second packet he’s opened and slathering it across the bun before I roll the sausage, so it’s thoroughly coated.

“I mean, I guess if you want to, you should. I’ve always been big on doing what made me happy since I was released.”

“I know you enjoy tattooing and building things,” I say. “You’re good at both. Probably better than good, but I can’t think of the word right now.”

“It’s a delayed reaction from the haunted house,” he teases, smirking at me. “What’s your degree in?”

“I have my Bachelor’s Degree in Business with a minor in Accounting,” I reply, once I’ve chewed and swallowed what I had just bitten off of my sausage before he asked his question. “Only, I’m not sure I’m cut out for corporate America.”

The thought has me shuddering, to be honest. Both Ivy and Lacie work in offices and some of the stories they’ve shared about how catty some of their coworkers are has me debating on whether or not I want to put myself through that or not.

“Did you say accounting?” he questions. “Because I’ve got a CPA for all the tax bullshit, but I absolutely hate paperwork. I’d be willing to offer you a job just to get that taken care of for me so when I go see her, she doesn’t want to strangle me.”

I giggle and ask, “Do you show up with a box full of receipts?”

“Something like that,” he replies, grinning at me. His expression changes when he glimpses someone coming up from behind me. Turning, I see his ex stomping her way over, her face livid.

“I can’t believe you’re going to go through with it,” she seethes.

Since I’m kind of in the dark about what she’s referring to, I continue to eat but don’t say a word. I know Manny had a DNA test done on Marisol to prove she was his, but with everything else that was happening, I haven’t asked him what his plans were. Although, having been around his family, I feel pretty sure he’s going for custody of some sort, and I don’t blame him one single bit.

“Why don’t you believe it? She’s my daughter, Leanna,” he retorts. “A daughter I had absolutely no fucking clue even existed. Hell, I have what, maybe two or three years at most with her before she goes off to college, which is barely any time at all. I can’t believe you’re so foolish as to think your secret would stay that way when you came back to a town full of my family.”

“Well, you’re not going to get away with this at all, Manny,” she taunts.

“Seems as though I already have,” he replies. “The hearing is on the docket for next month, and until then, I plan to get to know her, which you cannot stop me from doing.”

Seeing she isn’t getting the reaction she thought she’d get, she grunts out a screech of some sort that has me thinking of a dying hippopotamus, then spins on her ridiculous high heels and stomps off. Her screech is heard again when she manages to walk through a puddle from the earlier rain.

“I’m glad you’re going to try for custody,” I tell him once we’re alone again. I’m pulling apart my funnel cake, which has the perfect ratio of gooey goodness and powdered sugar.

“I have to, Ricci. She’s my flesh and blood.”

“Have you talked to her at all?” I ask, curiosity winning out.

“Briefly. She came into the tattoo shop the other day and we talked for about an hour or so. She figured out pretty quickly that I had no idea she existed, but she also knows I want a relationship with her. I know it won’t be the same as if she were a little girl, but she needs to understand if me or my family had known about her, we’d have been in her life. The fact Leanna hid her not just from me, but from all of us, pisses me off so much.”

I realize the conversation is taking him to a place he doesn’t need to be in since we’re on a date, so I ask, “So, tell me more about this job?”

* * *

“You’re a woman after my own heart,” he says a few hours later. We’re standing in line for another funnel cake after having walked through the livestock barn.

“How so?”

“You like your sweets,” he teases, looking down at me.

I pat my stomach and grin before saying, “Maybe so, but you don’t look like you indulge all that often.”

And he doesn’t. Even in a T-shirt, it’s obvious he’s got muscles. Meanwhile, I have a small pooch that doesn’t go anywhere despite how hard I try. Thankfully, all the walking I do around town has helped tone up other areas, but I’m nowhere near as physically fit as I was when I lived with Erik. Mainly because I realized his obsessiveness about my weight and size was another means of controlling me. Once I figured that out, I decided I didn’t have to spend hours in the gym; as long as I was frequently active, I would be just fine.

“I run and work out so I can eat what I want,” he admits. “And trust me, you’re perfect just the way you are, Ricci. No complaints from me at all.”

Since I’m unsure how to respond, I simply smile then wait as he tells the clerk what we want. As we walk away with another plate full of greasy, doughy goodness, I sigh in contentment. “I’ve had a good time tonight, Manny.”

“So have I, sweetheart. Let’s sit here,” he motions, letting me sit down at a small table. He then sits right next to me and I almost swoon when he pulls a piece of the funnel cake off and places it at my lips. “Open up,” he teases, which I oblige, moaning at the sweet taste.

When I open my eyes it’s to see him with an odd expression in his. “You okay?”

“Yeah. You’ve got a bit of powdered sugar,” he says, leaning in and lightly caressing my lips with his own, “right there. Got it!”

Erik wasn’t much into kissing; in fact, he didn’t really care for body fluids of any type, which is weird considering he refused to use a condom when we had sex. One of the things I have done since leaving him is get myself tested to make sure he didn’t leave me with anything that would screw up the rest of my life. Because I know he cheated on me. He doesn’t know I was aware, but his side chicks always made themselves known to me. It really frustrates me that I thought so little of myself that I stayed.

“What has you thinking so hard, baby?” he asks, before feeding me another piece of the cake.

I shake my head, unsure if I want to put a damper on the good time we’ve been having. “Not sure I want to bring it up right now,” I confess once I realize he’s not going to let it go. “Because we’re having a good time, you know?”

“Ricci, good or bad, I always want to know what’s on your mind,” he replies. “Hell, we had Leanna interrupt us earlier. Not only that, but if things go where I think they’re going, you’ll have a stepdaughter.”

My eyes widen in shock at his words. I mean, I know he said he wanted a chance with me, one I’m willing to give, but that’s a far cry from what he just stated was eventually going to happen.

“I was just wondering why I thought so little of myself that I allowed a man to treat me like I was a piece of shit,” I slowly state. “I mean, he had multiple affairs over the years, so why he wanted me around is beyond me. You would think he’d be happy not to be ‘saddled’ with me any longer, right?”

“We talked about this, sweetheart. You know now that you’re worth everything. Especially to me,” he whispers, leaning in and placing a soft kiss on my lips. I can taste the confectioner’s sugar and briefly wonder how it would feel if he deepened the kiss, but he pulls back. “You ready to go or was there something else you wanted to do while we were here?”

“Can we check out the vendors? I’m impressed that so many in town are involved in this, it’s a really big thing,” I reply.

“Absolutely. Normally, I’d have a booth for some smaller pieces, but didn’t have the time to do much.”

“That’s my fault,” I murmur, taking his hand so he can guide me toward where all the booths are set up.

“No, it’s mine, sweetheart. I’ve been focusing on bigger pieces, trying to finish up things my grandfather started but didn’t get done before he passed away. Plus, I’m a tattoo artist down right now as the other guy who was working at the shop decided to move across the country. So, I’ve been a bit busy trying to keep all the balls in the air. By the way, I like the sign thing you made. I think there’s a market for those, so if you want, you’re welcome to come out and ‘do your thing’ whether I’m there or not. Totally up to you.”

“I think I’d like that,” I admit.

We spend another hour or so walking through the various booths set up and I can’t hold my giggle when I see he’s got every bag I’ve managed to fill running up the arm that’s not occupied holding my hand.

“You know you’re killing me, right?” he teases as we head toward where he parked his truck. “It’s a man’s job to carry everything in one trip. I just had no clue my woman would want so much stuff.”

I can’t help the laughter that bursts free because he sounds aggrieved, but I know he’s only teasing me based on his smirk. “When will I find stuffed llamas again?” I question, standing next to the truck to wait for him to put all my bags in the back seat. Once he has that done, he crowds me a little until my back is against the door and I’m looking up at him.

“No clue, but knowing how you women have the ability to find things, I wouldn’t be surprised if you did,” he replies, placing a stray curl behind my ear. “I’ve had something on my mind for a few hours now, but I’m still going to ask. Is it okay if I kiss you?”

“Yes.”