Page 40 of I Do, or Dye Trying
MOVING DAY CAME ONus fast. I was shocked at how muchstuffI had acquired. We had spent every spare minute we had boxing up our possessions and labeling them for easy sorting and unpacking at our new home, which had yet to be named. Gabe wasn’t quite as organized as me and thought the labeling of the boxes was a bit fussy until the movers arrived and assured us how much quicker it would go. I didn’t say “I told you so,” but I might’ve given him a look that implied the same thing.
The movers didn’t say or act weird about mine and Gabe’s situation, but they did a double take when it came time to put the pole inside the van. Mover Guy One scratched his head and Mover Guy Two blushed a little while he grinned. I had already dismantled it by unscrewing the base from the floor, but it was quite obvious what the hell it was.
MG2 turned to me and asked, “Are these expensive?”
“You assume it’s my pole?” I asked him, causing him to blush even more.
“Uh… um.”
“I’m just teasing you,” I said. “The setup isn’t expensive, but pole dancing classes can be. However, it’s amazing exercise and worth every penny. Honestly, I recommend people take a class for at least a year before they install one at home. Yes, it’s great exercise and leads to amazing sex, but it’s also dangerous if you don’t know what you’re doing.” MG2 nodded as I spoke, but I could tell he was busy picturing a specific someone swinging around the shiny pole.
“Let’s get going, Mark,” MG1 said. “We’re not going to get done anytime soon if you keep staring at that weird thing with a dazed look in your eyes.”
“It’s not weird,” Gabe said, entering the room. “Different doesn’t mean weird.”Dear Lord, how I loved that man.
MG1 just shrugged then they both grabbed an end and hauled it down the stairs to the truck. Originally, I had planned to donate my furniture and buy new stuff for our new home, but the house was so damn big that I couldn’t justify spending that kind of money to replace perfectly good furniture. I bought new stuff for our formal living space and put my old stuff in the library, which was my favorite room in the entire house.
It was used as an office or a study, but I had it converted to a library. I had new shelves built to match the original ones, and sealed the entrances to the hidden room—both the one that Gabe had used and the one behind the kitchen pantry shelves that Wanda used to get the jump on him. I didn’t utter a single joke about the doors or what happened below. I simply hired someone to collect the old clothing for a museum since no one knew who they belonged to and had our contractor seal the entrances.
I liked owning a house that was rumored to have helped thwart oppression and slavery. I found myself thinking about Georgia and whether she would’ve approved of the changes that I made to the house she loved. Many people asked if I worried about ghosts or negative energy because she died in the home. I had a few doubts crop up here and there, but I set them aside. Walking into the home felt right, as if I belonged there; it was exactly how I felt when Gabe held me tight against him.
The house would be our home and our story. Yes, it would include grim stories from the past, but all homes and relationships had that. The key to happiness wasn’t to pretend bruised souls and broken hearts didn’t exist because you couldn’t build something solid on a foundation made of pretense, no matter how well-intended. Instead, own it, embrace it, and grow past it. Build that life brick by brick with mortar made of sweat and tears of both joy and sorrow to act as the glue that holds it all together.
Our friends showed up in full force to help us unpack and set up our new space. Chaz and Mere showed up after the salon closed, but Harley showed up bright and early as did Kyle, not that Kyle and Chaz were an item. Yet. No way in hell thatwasn’tgoing to happen. The blush on Chaz’s cheeks when he showed up and saw Kyle told me thatsomethinghad already happened and it was damned hard not to drag him off someplace and demand to know the details.
“Stay out of it,” Gabe whispered in my ear as I watched the two guys interact. “They obviously don’t need your help. Okay, any more help,” he corrected when I raised a scornful brow at him. I had pushed them toward each other a little bit, but he was right that additional interference wasn’t warranted.
“I wasn’t going to do or say anything,” I assured him then turned to give him a hug.
Gabe bounced back quickly after talking to Bonita the first time. It didn’t take him long to reach out to her again, and they’d become friends quickly. He had told her he was gay during their second conversation because if she had a problem with it, then there’d be no need for a third. Bonita had already known based on the information that the private investigator gave her and she was very accepting. I had talked to her a few times on the phone, and I found her to be warm and funny. I looked forward to meeting her and Gabe’s sisters. In fact, Gabe decided to invite Bonita, her husband, and his sisters to our wedding after discussing it with Martina and Al.
My favorite part had been listening to Gabe speak to each of his younger sisters on the phone. He hadn’t even met them yet, but he was grilling them about having boyfriends or girlfriends in their lives. We had seen pictures of them, and they were stunningly beautiful. They all had similar coloring to Gabe, but their eyes weren’t as dark brown. In fact, each lovely woman had a shade of brown unique to her.
We had quickly moved to Skype so we could see the girls instead of just hearing their voices. Selena was in graduate school at Vanderbilt studying to be a doctor, Marisol was a sophomore at the University of Tennessee studying to be an environmental engineer, and Arianna was a senior in high school. All of them had been home for the summer and eager to drive north to meet us in person and attend our wedding.
“I can’t believe I have sisters that are twenty-three, twenty, and seventeen years old,” Gabe had said the night we first chatted with them. “It seems surreal,” he said, stroking my back as I lay beside him in bed. “In a good way, though.” I knew what he meant. “We’ll be meeting them at our wedding in four weeks.”
That had been two weeks before our move, so that meant our countdown was half as long. Oddly enough, I wasn’t stressed about it at all. We had everything under control—as best we could—and I focused on what was right in front of me, which happened to be my very sexy fiancé.
“As happy as I am that our friends are here to help us, I can’t wait until we’re alone tonight,” I told him. I hoped to project how eager I was to break in our new bedroom properly—and judging by the glimmer in his eyes—I had hit a bullseye.
“Me too, Sunshine. Me too.” Gabe kissed me quickly and patted my ass before we separated to get our tasks done.
We couldn’t expect our friends to work for free so we ordered pizzas and salads that night and promised them an amazing barbecue the following day. By the time twilight moved in, the crowd had gone home. It was just Gabe and me on our front porch with cold beverages and anticipation of the night to come building between us.
I wasn’t eager to toss back my lemonade and run up the stairs because I knew that every second we waited would make the loving that much sweeter. I could tell by the crooked smile Gabe sent my way that he was hatching a plan. He wasn’t the only one. I saw that burgundy silk tie when I was hanging his suits in our massive closet and remembered that I hadn’t been tied up with that sucker yet. The thought of it had me wiggling in my seat, which prompted Gabe to chuckle warmly beside me.
I set my glass down and turned to look at him then noticed a black car slowing down in front of our house. The windows were tinted so I couldn’t see who was driving the car. Irritation and fear jockeyed for first place in the emotional upheaval competition going on inside me when the car pulled into our driveway. Gabe turned his head and looked to see what had put the damper on my “take me upstairs” look.
“Government plates,” he said like that made me feel any better.
“Internal Affairs,” I said smartly, in an attempt to calm myself with bad jokes.
“Wiseass,” Gabe said then rose to his feet.
A man got out of the car wearing a serious-looking black suit and an even more serious expression on his face. He reminded me a lot of the main agents inMen in Blackalthough I doubted this had anything to do with aliens. My breath hitched in my throat when the man didn’t so much as offer a smile when he stepped onto the porch. I rose and went to Gabe’s side because I had a strong feeling that this man was the one Emory had seen in his vision. Whatever this lawman had to say wasn’t good.
“Are you Gabriel Wyatt?” he asked Gabe.