Home Sweet Gnome (15 page)

“This is a difficult situation?” I asked.

“We were almost killed by a flying garden gnome. I’d say it’s outside of the norm.”

I bit my lip. He had a point. “Last night, did we…um…what the hell happened?” I asked. I tried to remember, but there was a big blank area in the events after around nine o’clock.

“You’d know if we slept together,” he replied, eyes dark.

I took a mental survey of my body. It didn’t feel like I’d slept with anyone. “I don’t think so.”

JT moved so he was on top of me, surprising me, and I didn’t have a chance to get away. “When we sleep together, I promise not only will you be sure, but you’ll remember it. Very well.”

He lowered his head to kiss me, but I brought my hand up to cover his lips. “No way. I have the worst morning breath. Ever.”

A smile formed against my fingers. He moved off me, which I was equally relieved and disappointed. Before I could do anything, he tugged on my hip and pulled me back into him, then he turned us both so I was beneath him once again, this time facedown. JT’s body was lined up perfectly with mine—in every place—his forearms holding his weight off my body.

“There.” He kissed the back of my neck, then started nibbling down my spine, moving the sheet lower and lower as he went. “No morning breath problems. This position is going to work for me.”

As one hand slipped beneath me to cup my breast, I had to agree with him. For once, we were both in complete agreement. “Oh yeah.”

After he’d made me forget my own name by just playing with my nipple, he slid his hand down my torso and cupped my hip, pulling back so I was up on my knees.

“Oh my.” It slipped out. Completely fell out of my mouth. Now both his hands worked over me, heating my skin as they went. “Why…why aren’t we hung over?”

“Moonshine. It’s good stuff. Goes down smooth.” His mouth was at the juncture of my shoulder and neck and he bit down ever so lightly. His tongue flicked over the sensitized skin, which had been crying out.

“Yeah, good stuff,” I moaned, not talking about the liquor. His soft chest hairs tickled my back as he leaned over me and I arched into him. He slipped one hand between us, smiled against my neck. “Where’s the clit ring?”

“Who are you in bed with?” I asked, then groaned. I needed to be sure he was in bed with me, not Silky.

“Daphne,” he murmured against my nape. When he slipped his hand a little lower, finding me more than ready for him, he murmured, “This is something I’ll never forget.”

When he brought me to orgasm not once, but twice, I knew I wouldn’t forget it either. If I’d known my sex life was in North Dakota, I would have visited a whole lot sooner.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“There is no way you’re getting out there and doing that,” JT told me that night. His hands were on his hips, his hair falling over his forehead and he gave me a look that screamed insanity on my part.

He looked at me differently now. He no longer had the look of a man who wanted to Tase me. Instead, he appeared very well satisfied and had a gleam of possessiveness in his dark gaze. It was something to behold, especially when directed on me. I didn’t want to jump him and tackle him to the ground and beat him up. I wanted to jump him and tackle him and have my way with him.

Perhaps that part, the sex part, was insanity. I’d slept with him after only knowing him such a short time. Did that make me slutty? Perhaps, but at the moment I didn’t care. I was actually falling for him and that was the craziest thing of all. I was falling for the guy who Tased me.

I liked this caveman attitude, but I couldn’t do anything about it at the moment. I was surrounded not only by Esther, Goldie and Aunt Velma, but the Roller Dolls were circling the ring during their hour-long practice. We stood just outside the edge of the ring, a gust of wind tossed my ponytail around every time the women circled, which was often and at very fast speeds. Music blared through the civic center’s loud speakers and the lights were bright. The multipurpose facility was set up for the roller derby, the flat ring laid out about the size of a basketball court.

“Look at them pushing and shoving, and this is just practice and they’re all on the same team.” JT did not look pleased.

“Chauvinistic much?” I leaned in and said into his ear so only he could hear. He wouldn’t say a word about a bunch of guys in a football game.

He turned his dark eyes on me. “I protect what’s mine,” he growled, clipping the bike helmet onto my head and giving the clasp a little tug.

Holy hell in a hand basket.

Esther and Aunt Velma were happy—no, thrilled—to see me. I think Goldie was pleased as well, but just because she didn’t want to listen to her friends whine and worry any longer. The fact that the two of them held such hopes on me was a bit unnerving. They wore red Roller Doll T-shirts and were calling out tips and pointers in a slang only roller derby experts would understand.

“I’ve never done this before, you know,” I reminded them, adjusting my elbow pads. I shifted from side to side on my skates, not used to having four wheels. It was a big difference than a narrow skate blade. I wore my black capri yoga pants and one of my old T-shirts. It wasn’t much for workout wear, but it would do for now; I’d get a uniform for the match tonight.

“You won the national championship twice for Pete’s sakes. This will be a walk in the park. You don’t even have pads on.”

JT eyed me, surprised. “Hockey championships?”

I replied by holding up two of my fingers.

Esther came over to me and patted me on the arm just above the elbow pad. “You don’t look as tense as you did earlier in the trip. What happened to all that angst? You need to Tase her again.” The last she said to JT.

“I think he Tased her all right,” Goldie said under her breath, eyeing me in an all too knowing way. I avoided meeting her eyes so I watched the women doing some kind of drill instead. Fortunately, Aunt Velma didn’t pick up on that and Esther was too worried about the roller derby game rather than my sex life.

“You’re worried that I’m not tense?” I asked Esther. “Shouldn’t you be worried I don’t know the rules?”

Aunt Velma waved her hand through the air. “It’s not rocket science out there. Besides, you watched it enough on TV with me to know what’s going on.”

“I haven’t,” JT piped up.

“Okay, here’s the short version. It’s not a game, it’s a match. There are five players on each team. A jammer, a pivot and three blockers. The jammer is the only player that can score points. The team gets a point every time a jammer passes one of the other team’s players. To score a point, the jammer has to play fair and stay on the track.”

“Daphne’s not going to be a jammer, then.” JT knew Aunt Velma and Esther well enough to know why they needed me.

Esther shook her head, her white curls still as stiff as ever.

“There’s a two-minute period, called a jam, when points can be scored,” Velma continued. “When the whistle blows, everyone leaves their designated start areas and skates around the track. The jammer is at the back so they need to pass everyone on the other team to get to the front and score. So it’s their teammates’ job to help get them there.”

JT listened as he watched the women go around the track. They wore bike helmets with red covers on top of their heads, like the one they gave me, elbow and knee pads, and various forms of skin-tight spandex covering the rest of them. This was an eclectic group. Some were skinny little things, others built like the ladies German swim team on steroids. Some were young, some older, dark and light. Some had pink hair, others had tattoos covering their arms. JT would find it interesting just to watch without knowing the rules. If Velma tested him on what she was telling him, he might be caught out ogling.

I was watching the ladies for a completely different reason. I was going out there with them and needed to ensure I had what they were looking for.

“I’m going to be a blocker,” I told JT.

“You’re going to be the enforcer, aren’t you?” He turned to watch me as I wheeled back and forth, trying to stretch on wheels, his jaw clamped tight.

“Why, McCade, I didn’t take you for a hockey fan. Of course, I’m the enforcer.”

“Jesus, Daphne, the enforcer? Your job is to take people out. This is insane. Some of those women are huge.” He cocked his head toward the ring.

I grinned at him. This was actually going to be fun. Yeah, there were a lot less pads involved, but I didn’t have a stick and there was no puck. I just had to skate and elbow people. “Hip checking is my specialty.”

“Just keep skating, and if someone gets near you later that’s wearing a different-colored uniform, take them out.” Velma broke my role down to one sentence. “But save all the rough stuff for later.”

“Got it.” I skated onto the edge of the ring, letting the women practicing circle around past me. I did a few laps, getting used to the skates, watching as JT and Velma were talking, arms going every which way as if they were sign language interpreters. JT did not look happy. As I made the far turn, I saw a pleased gleam on Goldie’s face. The whistle blew and I was pulled into the middle of the ring with the other women to huddle around the coach.

***

“Want to tell me what happened?” Goldie asked. I was in the ladies’ locker room, unlacing my skates. Aunt Velma and Esther were off somewhere talking strategy with the coaches and JT wasn’t allowed in. A few other Roller Dolls were still there, the remainder off getting some dinner.

I looked up at her from my bent-over position. “I’m sorry about the RV. We ran into some troubles on the way.”

Goldie waved her hand through the air, making her gold hoop earrings sway. She wore her jeggings with a red T-shirt, although hers didn’t have the Roller Dolls logo on it. At least she’d chosen the color to show spirit. “I don’t care about the RV. What’s going on with you and JT?”

I worked at a knot in the laces. “Nothing.”

“Nothing? Really, Daphne, I’m not blind.”

I just stared at her. “You can’t tell anything happened.”

She just shrugged. “The hickey on the back of your neck can only be seen when your hair is up in a ponytail.”

I automatically lifted my hand to the back of my head. I sighed. “Fine. Something
did
happen, but nothing’s going to come of it.”

“Oh? I figured the box I left for you would help with that.”

My mouth fell open. So she had been matchmaking. “Goldie, that was like thirty condoms.” My voice dropped into a whisper. “We’re not rabbits.”

“Well, you better show him your Silky Tangles moves before that blind date shows up in Bozeman.”

I sat up, stunned. I think my heart skipped a beat. “Sarah? In Bozeman?”

Goldie started fluffing her hair. “That’s her name? I don’t know much, but JT got a text from Bob that said Sarah still wanted to meet him. Since he—JT, I mean—wasn’t able to make it to Sturgis, she’d come to him.”

“Oh,” I replied. I couldn’t let Goldie see how the text bothered me, so I tugged off the skate and started undoing the other one. “See, I told you nothing’s going to come of it.”

“JT likes you, Daphne.”

“He likes the fact that I’m Silky Tangles so he can use me and lose me. It’s fine,” I added when she was about to cut in. “I’m going to Brazil anyway. We both had our eyes open.”

“Brazil?”

“I got an email from my editor with a great assignment in the rainforest.” I tried to make my voice sound cheery. “Something about deforestation and the increase of cattle grazing land. It’s a big article and I should be there a few months.”

“You want to go to the rainforest for a
few
months? There’s malaria and Anaconda snakes that eat people.”

I pulled off the second skate. “It’s my job, Goldie.”

“Your job could be working at the Bozeman newspaper. Be an online blogger. Write for a local fishing magazine. You don’t have to keep traipsing over the world. Just settle.”

I stood, put my skates up in one of the cubbies that lined a wall for later. “I can’t just settle, Goldie. I don’t know how.”

She came to stand beside me. “You’ve been searching for a place where you belong for years. Practically your whole life. You’re thirty years old, Daphne. You need to stop searching.”

“But I haven’t found where I belong yet,” I countered, looking up at her through my lashes.

“You’re never going to
find
it. You need to
make
it. Make the place where you belong.”

“Like build a house or something?”

“Did Velma hit you in the head after that one time in fifth grade?” Goldie asked, shaking her head in disappointment. “Rent an apartment, buy a house, build one. Whatever.
Just come home.
”

***

Esther and Aunt Velma had brought me some food while Goldie went off with JT to grab a bite themselves, then settle in their seats. I tried not to think about what Goldie had said, her words hitting pretty close to home. Had I been looking for a place I belonged all this time? Yes. Was I ever going to find it? Up until last week, I’d held out hope that I would. Now, I wasn’t so sure. Now, Brazil sounded far away. Like if I went, I’d just long to be back in Montana. I’d never really felt this way before, doing everything I could to stay away from the state instead.