TRAGIC: Rook and Ronin, #1 (21 page)

Read TRAGIC: Rook and Ronin, #1 Online

Authors: J. A. Huss

Tags: #New Adult Contemporary Romance

Whoa!
I think I need a new pair of panties. I breathe in deeply and wait for him to laugh or do something to break the mood.

But he doesn't.

He stares at me and then dips down to my neck again to whisper in my ear. "I'd crush your mouth with kisses right now if I thought I could get away with smearing your lipstick."

And then we do laugh. I take another deep breath and he offers me his arm. I grab hold of that arm like I never want to let go. We take the elevator down instead of the stairs and when we exit the garage, there's a town-car waiting to take us to the zoo.

A long breath escapes as the driver holds the door open for us. I get in and scoot across the butter-soft leather seat, then Ronin joins me and the door closes with a soft whoosh.

"What?" he asks.

"Just wow." I look over at him and laugh a little. "I mean, I've never…" The sentence just drops off because I seriously have no words for how I feel right now. "I've never been on a date like this." I look over at him and he's got a crooked grin on his face.

"Then you're long overdue, Gidget."

The car pulls out of the parking garage and I watch the street outside as Ronin puts his arm around my shoulders and pulls me a little closer to him. "How far away is the zoo?"

"Not far, just over in City Park."

"So have you lived here in Denver your whole life?"

"Yeah, Five Points, born and bred." He shrugs, like he's apologizing.

"Is that a good thing? Or not? You seem to be leaving something unsaid."

"It's not Park Hill, let's just leave it at that. Elise and I grew up in a house just down the street from our building. It was a total shit hole."

"Oh. Does it bother you to be in the same neighborhood?"

"No. I can't explain it, but even though there's a lot of nasty shit that happens on our side of town, it's home for me. And where we are, things are more quiet than in some places. I can see the draw of moving over to Cherry Creek or Park Hill or Highland's Ranch, but I'm not ashamed of where I started. You can't choose your parents." He shrugs.

I internalize this for a few moments. "You could be talking about me."

His eyes come back to me and he waits a few seconds before speaking. "I wasn't though. I have no idea how you grew up."

I swallow down the bad memories. "Pretty much the same as you, except for the French knight in shining armor thing. I never got one of those."

"
Vous avez tort, mon amour. Je suis juste ici
."

"What's that mean?"

He leans in and nuzzles my ear. "It means the bad stuff is over now, Gidget, and the good is just about to start." My whole body flushes and he laughs in my neck as the car stops. "We're here. When's the last time you were at a zoo?"

"Never," I admit.

He pulls back as the driver gets out to open our door. "That's criminal! How can a child grow up in America and never go to the zoo?"

I shrug. "My childhood was a long string of foster homes and crack houses." I watch his eyes as the door opens from the outside. "Sometimes," I continue, "I had both at the same time. The Chicago foster care system is not ideal."

He's crushed as the words sink in. His hand reaches over and grabs mine off my lap and he shakes his head. "I had no idea, Rook. Maybe we shouldn't go in?"

"Why?" I ask, startled, my heart racing in my chest.

"Because this fundraiser is for foster care kids. I didn't know, I swear. If it's not something you want to think about I'll take you somewhere else. Anywhere you want."

He raises his hand to brush against my cheek and for a moment I lose control. A little wave of hurt and sadness sweeps over me and I feel the pool of tears that threaten my perfect night. But I swallow it down. "No," I say, shaking my head. "No way. I'm not responsible for where I came from. I didn't choose that life, I chose this one. This night isn't about me, it's about them," I say, pointing to the zoo entrance. "I want to go in." He hesitates, but I nod and say it again. "I swear, I want to go in. Come on, let's go."

We get out of the car and walk towards the entrance where Ronin hands our tickets to the ushers. They point us down a pathway that veers off to the right and then hand us a program.

"Want to walk around a little?" Ronin asks. "We have about twenty minutes."

"Yes, please. What's close by?"

Ronin studies the map on the back of the program and leads us past the event center. "Elephants!" he says with a laugh. "Once, Antoine took Elise and me to India for some big fashion thing. We'd just met the guy, we'd known him for like three months I guess. And he sprang this trip on us and even though I thought Antoine was a total dick because he refused to speak English to me, that trip to India was awesome because I got to ride an elephant. Of course," he says, looking sideways at me, "I tried to pretend I was unimpressed with the whole thing. Kids, right? They never appreciate anything."

"Wow. India. I can't even imagine how cool that would be."

"Well, you know, they got their problems, the shit's the same the world over. Some places are nicer than others. But Antoine was photographing some important people so we got special treatment. It was cool."

We stop in front of the elephant enclosure and stare at nothing. There are no elephants in sight. "Oh, look, you have to go inside," he says.

I'm not sure I want to go in the pachyderm house in this dress, but Ronin pulls me so I'm forced to follow. Inside there is a table set up and two zoo workers are chatting with the event visitors about sponsoring an elephant. The elephants just munch on hay and give us all dirty looks.

Ronin grabs some literature as we shuffle though with the other guests, then find ourselves outside where the hint of rain becomes a light drizzle. We get caught up in the wave that brings us back to the event center, get escorted to our table, and take our seats as the presentations start.

I've never been to a charity anything, let alone some big production put on to squeeze money out of the pockets of Denver's rich and famous. There are quite a few presenters and Ronin actually knows a few people who appear on stage.

Which is weird. Because I just don't see him as the rich and snooty type, but I guess Chaput Studios is a major player in this town. There are a few kids who give their touching stories and a few older kids, the same age as me probably, who talk about the great families they had in foster care.

After the presentations and plea for money, dinner is served. Ronin chats easily with the other couples at our table between bites of prime rib. They are all friends of Elise and Antoine's and they don't seem at all disappointed that Ronin and I had to step in and take their place for the evening. They ask us a ton of questions about pretty much everything. It's funny how once you get older, questions that normally seem rude become standard. Like,
So when's the wedding
?

I almost snort some ice out of my nose at this one.

Ronin doesn't even flinch, he just promises to send the couple an invitation once we nail it down.

I smile into my water glass at that.

The night just flies by and before I know it Ronin is writing a check and then we're huddling underneath a large black umbrella as we make our way back to the parking lot in the pouring rain.

We both scoot into the back into the car and breathe a sigh of relief.

"Was it fun, Gidge?" Ronin asks me as he brings my legs up over his lap, then slips my shoes off my aching feet and starts to rub them.

"Yes, it was fun… oh, God, that feels good!"

"I told you I was gonna touch you all the way home."

And all during the night, which he did. I can barely recall a second when his hand was not on me in some way. If it wasn't draped over the back of my chair, gently teasing the back of my neck, it was on my knee, squeezing lightly as the other couples did their best to embarrass us with questions about babies.

But the really interesting thing about all this touching is how I feel about it. A few days ago I might have seen it as possessive, but tonight it felt like affection. Maybe that means I'm getting over some of the bad things that happened to me in Chicago?

I hope so. Because I like Ronin Flynn for sure now.

"What're you thinking about?" Ronin asks me as the town car makes its way through the traffic in the parking lot.

"Just kinda reevaluating my thoughts on certain things." I shoot him a sideways glance. "About you mostly."

"Yeah? Is that good or bad?'

"Good, I think. I mean, I'm still a bit of a mess personally. But maybe I was wrong about you? Maybe you are a good guy?"

"Did you really think I was a bad guy?" he says, his brow in a furrow.

"No. Yes. Well," I sigh. "I'm probably not the best judge right now, Ronin. I'm tainted by past experiences, so I'm not sure I can tell the difference anymore."

"Well, let me ask you this, have I ever hurt you?"

"No."

"Did the last guy hurt you?"

I look away and let the question hang there as I take a deep breath. "Very badly," I finally manage.

"So now you doubt your decisions? About choosing the right guy to date?"

"Sorta."

He waits because we both know that's not an answer.

"I just never want to get in that situation again. I never want to be controlled like that. What I do want," I say, looking him in the eye now, "is to be myself and not get mowed down by a boyfriend's personality, or dreams, or needs. I want to make my own money so I never have to depend on a guy again. Does that make any sense?" He nods, slowly. His hands are still massaging my feet and I lean my head sideways on the back of the seat and try to relax as I listen to the rain pound the roof of the car.

"I get it, Rook. I have the same problem, except in reverse."

I open my eyes and look at him. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I have this rule that I won't date a model, right? I mean, I break it all the time," he laughs a little, "obviously. But the part I won't break is where these encounters will end up. I want a normal life with a normal family. I don't want to bring kids up in Antoine's studio. I don't want my wife taking her clothes off so I can touch her in front of the camera. I want
boring
. I want kids in Catholic school and a minivan filled with car seats. And I have no idea how long this thing with Antoine's studio will last, but I'm pretty sure that I'd rather die than be the father of a teenage girl who runs the models at an erotic art photography studio."

I smile a little at that thought. He's right. That's a disaster waiting to happen.

The car pulls into the studio parking garage and Ronin slips my shoes back on. We wait for the driver in silence, then make our way to the elevator and head on upstairs.

"So where's that leave us?" Ronin asks.

I shrug. "I dunno," I say honestly. I have never fantasized about getting married and having children, not even as a child, because I have no good memories of that kind of life. But this seems to be a big deal to Ronin and I don't want to ruin our perfect night, so I follow up my shrug with something evasive. "I guess we'll just have to wait and see what happens."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Thirty-Three - RONIN

 

When the elevator doors open Rook and I are bombarded with studio lights and general chaos. Elise is barking orders at technicians and Antoine spies us from across the room and is already yelling out in French as he crosses the distance.

"What's going on?" Rook asks me.

"Rain shoot," I say, picking up every third word coming out of Antoine's mouth due to the scraping of a ladder across the floor. I feel Rook tense at the screeching noise. "We have to get a shot in the rain for TRAGIC." I should've anticipated this, really. But I stopped thinking about work hours ago.

I put my hand up as Antoine approaches, but I know it's useless. There's no getting out of it, we have to shoot tonight. Now. "Go with Elise, she'll get you ready."

"Wait." She grabs a hold of my arm. "We have to work
right now
?"

"Yeah, sounds like fun, huh?"

She rolls her eyes at me.

"Rook, nine times out of ten, being a model sucks. Better get used to it if this is the life you want." I push her towards Elise and sigh. I know it's a dig at her declaration of independence, but I can't help it. The last thing I want is this girl half naked in the cold rain at night. But it's in the contract that we get a rain shot, so it must be done.

Elise whisks Rook off to the salon to wash her makeup off and take her hair down. I take the stairs to my apartment three at a time and head straight for my closet.

I hang up the tux and try not to let the disappointment wash over me as I trade my expensive clothes for an old pair of jeans and a white t-shirt. Rook will be wearing the exact same thing, except she'll have a nice black bra on so that when she's soaking wet it will show through the fabric for everyone to see.

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