Page 62 of The Cowboy's Cabaret

“Daphne told me you were here. I wanted to buy you dinner. Plus, I missed you, so meeting your basic needs was a great reason to drive down here. Now get in the truck before we get arrested for public indecency. I’m but a mere man in the presence of perfection and you look far too beautiful for me to keep my hands to myself.”

“I’m starting to see why they call you lover boy, Wes.”

Wes suggested somewhere nicerfor dinner, but I really wanted greasy diner food, so we went to Moon Palace. The difference between tonight and the last time we were here is stark. “Last time we were here was after the first time you came to Cunting Season. I got so unbelievably drunk because I was nervous to be around you. I wanted you so bad, but I couldn’t let myself dream of acting on my feelings. I couldn’t stop staring at you.”

“You’re one to talk. Do you know how many times I’ve jerked off thinking of your performance? That night watching you on the stage—” The server chooses the exact moment to ask what we’d like to drink and Wes blushes. “She’s a great dancer, okay!”

We place our orders and the server doesn’t make eye contact with me as he takes away the menus. “Wes,” I hiss, “now the good people of Moon Palace are going to think we’re deviants.”

His response is an attempt at hiding a laugh. “Baby, we are deviants. Have you heard the shit we say to each other in the bedroom? And the dressing room, for that matter…” He trails off, with a shit-eating grin. “That night I watched you dance on stage, the crowd falling for you right alongside me. You went off dancing with some other people and I stood there like an idiot trying to work up the courage to get close to you.”

“Ah, yes. That would be fifty-percent me dancing with others to avoid my feelings for you and fifty-percent trying to make you jealous so you’d force my hand,” I admit.

“Idiots in love?”

“Idiots in love, indeed,” I agree. Our food comes out and I’m hungrier than I realized because I’m ready to inhale this plate of fries. “I’ve been thinking,” I start, “maybe I can start therapy after graduation. Once the stress of school and my thesis is behind me, it might be nice to have someone to talk to. Especially with all the changes coming up. I think I’ve put this off for too long now, and I deserve to be happy.”

Wes’ eyes soften. “You more than deserve to be happy, baby. I’m so proud of you. Remember what you said about Second Chance? You just have to try. One foot in front of the other, one day at a time.” He reaches over to hold my hand. “I love you, and I can’t wait to be by your side while you rule the world.”

“Quite the jump, no? Let’s start small—one therapy appointment first, then maybe later world domination.” We attempt serious looks at each other before we burst out laughing. “One day at a time.”

“One day at a time.”

FORTY-EIGHT

what’s behind door number one

Wesley

The stress leadingup to this week has bled into all of us, but especially Dahlia, considering this entire thing leads to her graduating with a masters degree. We’re only a few days out from the big meeting on Monday and Dahlia’s final thesis submission on Wednesday. She’s so tense, I’m sure she’s exhausted.

I’ve been cooking up a surprise for her—only Daphne and Amber know—since they’ve helped me plan and clear out the room. Hopefully this isn’t overstepping. I’m praying she is as thrilled about this all as Daphne thinks she will be. The night after she agreed to moving in, I set the wheels in motion on my plan. It’s not much, but I got her a nice office set up in one of the spare rooms in the cabin. Tonight she’s spending the night, and my plan is to wine and dine her, shower her in all my love, and show her we all believe in her.

Amber offered to pick Dahlia up, so I can finish the last bits of decoration and calm my own nerves. This isn’t exactly anything huge considering she’s already moving here and we’re already starting this program, but I hope this shows her howcommitted I am to seeing this through. How proud of her I am for doing this. I hear Amber’s SUV door slamming shut and the giggle of my girl drifts through the cabin.

“Honey, I’m home!” she calls, toeing off her Vans before tackling me with a hug. Her familiar floral scent is branded in my brain and she looks cute as all fuck in the plaid dress she’s wearing. Her hair is in a loose ponytail and she takes my breath away as usual.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you more. How are you?” I ask, nervously.

“Nervous. Clammy. Excited. It’s all right around the corner now.”

“It sure is. Can you close your eyes for me, baby? I have a surprise for you.” I move behind her, unable to stop myself from kissing where her neck is exposed.Focus Wesley.

“Oooh, blindfolding me. This could be fun. Is the surprise your cock?”

More kisses along her neck and shoulders, continuing to tease her, pulling her against my chest to whisper in her ear, “Not yet, Princess.”

Once I’m sure her eyes are closed, I take her hands in mine and pull her along to the closed door. The plain wooden door has been transformed into a floral display, full of dahlia flowers and dark green vines. The shitty brass door knob replaced with this cool ass vintage globe. “Open your eyes, baby.”

Her body jolts with surprise as she turns to me and back to the door several times. “Is this for me? Wes, it’s so fucking beautiful, thank you so much. I can’t believe you painted this for me!”

“Dahlia, baby, there’s more, but I do appreciate the enthusiasm over the door. Open it.” I nod towards it. She bites her lip, her cheeks flushed as she turns the knob and goes silent.Her shoulders shake in front of me and I move to stand in front of her, tilting her chin up to look at me.

Tears fill her espresso eyes and shit, so do mine. She launches up to my mouth, kissing me hard and I can feel her shaking hands around my neck.

“I love you. I love you,” she chokes out between kisses. The room is bathed in emerald green with two large bookshelves towering behind a deep brown desk, complete with a hot pink velvety chair. Gold accents dot the room, the light fixture and frames, filled with pictures of Dahlia and Daphne, photos of us, photos of the farm and orchard. “How did you do this? When did you do this?” She pulls away to take the room in fully.