Maybe Baby (27 page)

I hurried into the bedroom with my phone, trying to keep the conversation as private as possible. “Good God. I’m not
fucking
him, Trey. He’s a friend. You didn’t say anything about me not being able to have friends.”

“I don’t want to argue the fine points of our agreement. You're free to hang out with friends, as long as the friends are female.”

“I don’t believe this,” I exclaimed, my voice rising. “I don't intend to abide by any agreement as asinine as that. That wasn't my understanding at all.”

“I see," he replied testily. So what are we to do about that?” His voice was like steel.

My mind was racing, replaying what Clint had just said about Trey and his possessions. It appeared Clint had been right. Hell to the no! I wasn't going to be some possession of his to be used and then conveniently shelved until the next time.

“Well, I guess maybe I need to exercise my right to opt out,” I said calmly. "Good night, Trey." I ended the call and returned to the living room where Clint was politely appearing to be engrossed in whatever was on the television.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

“Maybe you’re right, Clint. Trey seems to have a problem with my having friends of the opposite sex.”

“I should probably leave.”

“No please don’t. I already told his majesty that I don’t roll that way. Unless you think he'll retaliate against you with your job or something.”

“I’m not worried about it,” he replied, pulling me down next to him on the couch.

“C’mon, I want to see those dressage videos of yours. Let’s have a good laugh.”

I picked up the remote and clicked on the videos. Clint was extremely complimentary on my progress; I wasn’t sure if he was sincere or if he felt bad for my situation with Trey. When Clint left around 10 p.m., I called Gina.

“What’s up girlfriend?” she answered.

“Just wanted to hear your voice,” I answered.

“What’s wrong?”

As much as I'd not wanted to divulge ‘the agreement’ to Gina, I needed my friend’s perspective on it. I laid it all out for her.

“Are you shitting me?” she asked, indignant.

“I mean it’s not like I want to be with anyone else but Trey,” I said. “I simply have a problem with him dictating the gender of my friends. I don’t think he’s being reasonable.”

“Listen, I warned you about him, didn’t I? Sexual exclusivity is one thing. I mean, yes, it’s a good thing and a reasonable expectation. But what Trey's expecting goes way beyond that and you know it without me having to tell you. He wants to control your life it seems. God, what did his mother do to him?”

I had to smile at her last comment. “I know very little about his past. But he’s sure as hell an expert on mine,” I replied, wryly.

“Take my advice, let things cool between you and Trey for a while. You need to get some perspective. I know that he was your first, but you need to put a little distance between yourselves so that you can see clearly. I don’t want to come back to find you’ve turned into some Stepford bitch, ya know?”

I had to laugh at that. Gina was right though, I couldn’t become some replicant. She promised to call me the following week to check up.

The next few days passed in a blurry haze. I was doing all of the things that I was supposed to be doing, but it seemed as if I was watching myself do them. I'd fallen into a funk. Thankfully, the dressage training was going well. On Friday, Mark did a mock testing of our routine. He felt we would easily pass the FEI test for five-year-olds. We still had three weeks to go. As we were winding down that afternoon, Mark walked with me to the stables.

“Are you okay, Tylar?” he asked, showing some concern.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

“You just seem a little down this week, that’s all. Anything you want to talk about? I’m a good listener.”

“I don’t want to bore you with my problems.”

“I wouldn’t be bored, I promise. You wanna grab a beer somewhere?”

I thought about it for less than five seconds, “Great idea.”

“Good, then I’ll meet you at the main drive about six?”

“Sounds good. See you then.”

I untacked Derringer and returned him to his stall for the night. “Derringer, I hope I’m doing the right thing here, boy. I wish you could help. You know him better than I do. Wish me luck,” I said, giving him a kiss on his nose.

Mark was waiting when I met him up at the main drive at 6 p.m. He opened the passenger door to his red dually pick-up truck and lifted me up into the cab. I was glad I hadn’t worn one of my short jean skirts. Mark looked nice in his blue jeans and white polo shirt. His tanned skin from a career outdoors gave him sort of a rugged look. He fired up the diesel engine and we pulled out of the drive onto the highway.

“Ever been to Bunkers?” he asked.

“I’ve never even heard of it.”

“It’s kind of an after-five dive,” he admitted. “But the beer is cold, they have great barbecue sandwiches, good selection on the juke box, and pool tables if you play.”

“Haven’t played for a while,” I admitted. “But it might be nice to shoot some pool.”

The truth was, I'd welcome any distraction from my current funk and thoughts of Trey. I'd heard no more from him since I had opted out of our arrangement. I drove myself crazy wondering what he was doing and who he was with. I was every bit as possessive as he was and I felt like a hypocrite.

Bunker’s was packed. Mark and I found a table in a corner that was a bit quieter than at the bar. He ordered a draft beer; I ordered a vodka sonic.

“So, how’d you find this place?” I asked, conversationally.

“I came here once with Jenna, she introduced it to me.”

Oh great. Pissing Jenna off yet again was all I needed. Being out with Mark would give her some real ammo. Mark noticed my discomfort.

“Jenna and I aren’t a couple or anything, just friends.”

“Are you sure Jenna sees it that way?” I asked, frowning.

Mark laughed. “Hey, I can’t pretend to know how Jenna sees it. I can tell you this. I’ve made it clear to her that I want no romantic ties, at least to her.”

I caught the last part of his sentence and glanced up at him, but he was gazing around the room. Maybe he hadn’t meant it to sound the way it did.

“Are you hungry?” he asked, looking over at me now.

“I could eat,” I shrugged.

When the waitress brought our drinks, Mark ordered two barbecue sandwiches with fries.

We drank our drinks; Mark ordered another round when our food came. The barbecue pulled pork was delicious. I ate every last bite of my sandwich. We were on our third round of drinks, and things were definitely loosening up when Mark broached the subject.

“So, you want to tell me why such a pretty girl has been so blue all week?”

“It’s complicated, Mark.”

“You know I’m not blind. I see the way Trey is with you. He’s always watching you, treating you like his prized possession.”

There was that word again,
possession
as in
possessiveness
,
possessively
, or how about just
possessed
. That was exactly how I was starting to feel,
possessed
by a demon.

“That's not what love is supposed to be,” he continued.

“Whoa - hold up there, Mark,” I interrupted, “Trey has never committed his love to me, nor I to him. We haven’t even known each other all that long. I don't believe in that insta-love bullshit."

Mark leaned in closer to me. “You know as well as I do that love is not a product of time, and it doesn’t have to be professed in order to exist between two people. All I’m saying is loving someone is not a license to own them.”

“You’ve only been here for a short time, so I doubt that your power of observation is conclusive when it comes to Trey.”

“It’s not just Trey, it’s you as well. You ask to be treated that way. Everything about you begs to be dominated by him,” he scoffed.

“What?” I exclaimed, thankful that the din of the noisy bar masked my voice as it rose.

“I’m not judging you. I just know what I see is someone trying their best to please a man who might just prefer his woman not change into something she's not. Doesn’t mean it won’t be a rocky road, but it'll be one traveled together.”

I was quiet for a moment, reflecting on what he'd just said. What should I have done differently? I didn’t tolerate Trey’s rule that I could only have female friends and being out tonight with Mark proved that. I had been the one to insist on the “opt out” clause, hadn’t I?

Then I realized the bigger picture in all of this. Why would I have tolerated our agreement to begin with? In reality, it was a declaration of sexual exclusivity with no attachments, and the rest of the rules seemed to develop along the way with Trey calling the shots.

“How about we shoot some pool,” I suggested, pulling myself from those thoughts. "I don't want to think or talk about Trey."

Two rounds of beer later, Mark and I had shot three games of pool. Mark had destroyed me each and every time. I begged for mercy so we sat back down at our table.

“I don’t think I’ve ever had so much fun getting my ass kicked at something,” I said, laughing.

“You’ll get the hang of it,” Mark assured me. “You just need a little coaching, that’s all.”

“Yeah, but when I scratched the eight-ball and it landed two tables over, I thought that guy was going to kick your ass.”

I was remembering the look on Mark’s face and it started me in another fit of giggles.

“That was a bit scary, I admit,” he said, his eyes crinkling with laughter.

“But you handled it very well, Mark. Pointing to me and saying, ‘she did it.’ Glad you had my back.”

Mark paid the tab. I told him next time it would be my treat. I kind of liked this place. We headed back to the manor. I was thankful it was fairly close, as Mark was feeling no pain. He parked his truck next to the stables.

“I'm walking you up to your cottage, Tylar.”

“That’s not necessary, really.”

“No, I won’t hear of it. I'll see that you're safely inside.”

We walked up the path toward the cottages. Ray’s place was dark since he'd moved in with Denise. Charlie’s had lights on inside; I could see his television on. As we passed Jenna’s, I noted that her Friday night lingerie had been taken in. Her lights were on and I thought I saw her peeking out of the side window as we passed.

“Here we are,” I said, getting my keys out of my pocket.

I unlocked the door and turned to say good night to Mark but he was right there in front of me, just inches away. Before I knew what to think, he pulled me toward him, gently lifting my chin so that our lips met. His kiss was soft and warm, his lips moved against my mouth earnestly, trying to draw me into a deeper and more passionate kiss. I finally put my hands against his chest, gently pushing back from him.

“Mark, I’m sorry. I can’t…I can’t…”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m the one who's sorry. I shouldn’t have pressed you for a kiss like that. Forgive me?”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” I answered. “I had a wonderful time with you tonight. I really would like to do it again, but for now, we need to stay friends. I’m not equipped for anything more at the moment.”

“I understand,” he replied, kindly. “You get inside and I want to hear that door lock behind you, got it?”

“Good night, Mark.”

“Good night, Tylar.”

Chapter 27

I was never so eager for Monday to roll around. The morning began fairly overcast, and the weather report indicated that a line of heavy storms was moving in later in the day. I wanted to get some training in; it was therapeutic for me. I knew that I'd feel a little weird around Mark after our botched kiss on Friday night, but I had no choice but to get past it.

I went to the stables, tacked up Derringer, and then led him to the arena. I saw Jenna as I was walking Derringer up to the entrance gate. She had a sourer look on her face than usual. I generally tried to ignore Jenna, but this morning, she was on a mission.

“Well, if it isn’t the Slut of Sinclair Manor,” she hissed. I looked around to be sure that she'd actually been addressing me.

“What’s your problem now, Jenna?”

“Is there no one you won’t fuck to get ahead?” she said with an evil glare.

“I think you're confusing me with you,” I retorted.

“You bitch,” she sneered. “You knew damn well that I've been seeing Mark. As soon as your main fuck leaves town, you hit on mine!”

By this time, passers-by were turning their heads to observe the woman dressed in 1845 period clothing, hair tightly pulled up in a bun, prim and proper, cussing at me in language that'd make a drunken sailor blush. Mark had heard the exchange from where he stood inside the arena. He quickly stepped outside, opening the gate so that I could enter with Derringer.

“Mark,” I said, “I think Jenna wants to talk to you.”

I continued inside, leaving Mark to deal with the drama. I had nothing to explain to Jenna. He was back in a few minutes, shaking his head in disgust.

“I'm really sorry for her outburst out there. I explained to her once again that she and I aren't in a relationship. She's hell bent on thinking that you came between us.”

“Did you lead her on in any way, Mark?” I didn’t want to delve into his personal stuff, but I didn’t want to be on the receiving end of Jenna’s wrath without knowing why she felt so strongly about Mark.

“Well, we slept together…once,” he said.

I shook my head at his admission. “You know Mark, I’m no expert on relationships, but sleeping together is kind of a big deal to a lot of chicks."

Maybe I should ask Mark whether or not he'd had the good sense to have a pre-coital agreement in place with Jenna prior to doing the dirty deed. You know, to make sure that his bases were covered? How in the hell could I lecture Mark on something like this when I had signed up to be someone’s fuck-buddy, no strings attached?

“I’ll talk to her again, one-on-one,” he said.

“I think that's the right thing to do.”

We got busy with our practice. The morning flew by. We broke for lunch, and watched our training videos while we ate. I stayed to review the videos one more time. We planned to meet back in the arena at 1:30, but at that time the sky was extremely dark; the sound of thunder wasn't that far off in the distance. We stood in the arena and scanned the sky.