"Whooooooooo hoo! Alright now, it's time for an oldie but a goody! How about some Tim McGraw with Indian Outlaw!" The Texan disk jockey's rowdy introduction was drowned out by cheers from a hot and sweaty crowd of experienced locals and short-term tourists. Most of the latter were fresh off a round of country line dancing lessons. The dance hall was thick with the scents of beer, smoke, and food fried up for appetizers.
Rosalyn was grateful she didn't perspire like regular gals. Otherwise, she would've been a wilted flower, all bent out of shape and droopy. The vampire's hair had seen better days, that was for sure. Pieces had fallen out of her ponytail and clung to her face, as if the very air was saturated with moisture. When she made it back to the hotel room, she was sure there'd be blisters on her heels, as many times as she'd kicked them up tonight, or just plain old kicked them while weaving grapevines. "Ready to go another round?" She leaned across a table and smiled at her partner, fingertips dancing on his forearm.
Ghostly, a trickle of sweat snaked down the base of Gavin's neck, soaking into the collar of his shirt. The blue fabric darkened to match the patches down his spine and under his arms. Though he didn't feel grimy yet in the heat of such a crowded hall; the werewolf only felt happy. The kind of goofy, fun loving, happy that people wait their whole life to feel. When they had first arrived in Galveston, the last thing he ever imagined doing was line dancing. Once he got over the initial embarrassment, and started to pick up the steps, he found himself really enjoying it.
Cocking his head to the side, the werewolf grinned at Rosalyn, his fingers lifting to brush a strand of hair behind her ear. It almost felt surreal, being so free as to openly show affection, looked on as nothing more than another couple on vacation. "I'm always ready." The tone was cheeky, even as he took her hand and stood up. "Where do you want to be, up front or at the back?" Personally, he just wanted to find a place where nobody would correct his wrong steps, and there could be many.
"I'd say the back, but then everybody turns around and we're in the front!" she protested, laughing. "Let's just pick a spot where you won't stomp anybody's toes." Rose lifted his arm up and ducked beneath it, so that it draped across her shoulders. She was teasing the werewolf... Had to be, considering she was as choreographically-challenged as Gavin, when they first arrived.
While Tim McGraw sang about being part Cherokee and Choctaw, they clapped, shuffle- and lock-stepped across the polished wood floor, occasionally knocking shoulders and grabbing onto each other for balance. They were easily spotted as out-of-towners, neither of them wearing leather boots or hats, neither of them knowing the words to the popular song. But they were relishing this small, colorful splash of local flavor and each other. Each touch lingered longer than it needed to. They were slap-happy over the chance to be affectionate around curious onlookers, to let their touches linger.
When Rose spun right when she should've gone left, it was because she was gawking at her cowboy, who looked more charming the sweatier he got. Once he had the routine down, he could really cut a rug. "Sorry!"
As Rosalyn lead the way, Gavin laughed, the sound rich and full, "Listen, as long as it isn't your toes, you don't have to worry." The thought of worry caused him to shake his head. Finally he could say, right now, that he was free. Free from worry, free from stress, free from everything except the one thing he wanted to be with him, wherever he went. With that in mind, his arm squeezed the vampire's shoulder, then retreated so they could join the line.
Every few steps, the werewolf clipped the back of his own boot with his other foot, giving him a glimpse of what walking drunk resembled while being sober. For the most part nobody seemed to notice, and even if they had Gavin wouldn't have known; his attention was glued to the man beside him, watching the steps he made and praying he was copying them. Beads of sweat threatened to trickle down his forehead as his brow furrowed. The werewolf pivoted away from the man and came face to face with Rosalyn. Startled and red faced he blurted, "Hello!" With no time to spare, he quickly leaned across to plant a cheeky kiss on her lips, then turned to fall back in line with a rather satisfied grin.
Rose thought it was a real shame, how there wasn't a dance step where you got to grab onto your partner's rear end. Dancing behind the werewolf, she kept her peepers glued to the seat of his jeans, the tiny rip by the pocket, its shredded white strings close to revealing his boxers. She had the mad urge to pinch him through it. Would he whoop in surprise? Would it sound like a country-western cheer?
She intentionally screwed up, continuing to face Gavin when everybody else did an about-face. A beat too late, she stopped gawking at his crotch, smiled at him and pivoted.
At the end of the song, she clapped along with the rowdy crowd, wiping imaginary sweat from her brow, pretending to be as tuckered out as the Texans. Once already, Rose had pinched her cheeks pink. She didn't want to arouse suspicion.
She fanned herself and grabbed Gavin's hands, holding them down by her sides. "You wanna go outside?"
Unfortunately the perspiration that Gavin was wiping off of his face and neck was real. Not that he was unfit, but being warm blooded in such a packed hall, well it kept him warm. Either that or the look Rosalyn had given part of him. The smile crept across his lips when she took his hands, and looking down into her blue eyes, he found it hard to deny her anything she wanted. "You mean where the air is?" Gavin faked shock, until his shoulders began to shake and he laughed, "Yes, please. I'm a big fan of air."
Clasping one of her hands, the werewolf began to weave through the crowd, his free hand splaying against the door as he pushed it open and led Rosalyn outside. Gavin tilted his head up, gazing at the stars as he took a deep breath, "Can you believe this?" Suddenly mischievous hazel eyes were on the vampire, "The stars, the air, the space..." A sly grin caught the edges of his lips, "It's enough to make a man dream of early retirement."
"I could hold my breath til the cows come home," she reminded him. Rose leaned onto his arm. The rounded ball of his shoulder fit perfectly against her cheek. "But the way it smells out here, why bother?" She closed her eyes and took a deep one, letting the fragrance of sea and sweat penetrate her senses. She wanted to bottle it for the smog-choked nights in Chicago. Here, both vampire and werewolf could get a nose full of the real McCoy.
"Come on, let's walk in the sand."
Less than two days of Galveston had sold Rose on the beach life. She was a gal that appreciated the finer textures and almost considered trading the rough concrete of her old city for the coarse grains of quartz washing up on those southern shores. She liked how the tiny, sharp pieces combined to feel soft between her toes. She liked how the water lapped at the land as if tasting it.
Behind the dance hall, a wide boardwalk gave way to the shoreline. Rose unstrapped and kicked off her shoes. Then she reached up under her skirt and rolled down her old-fashioned nylons. Those she stuffed into the caverns of the black Mary Janes.
There were moments when Gavin forgot things that he shouldn't, like the fact that Rosalyn didn't have to breathe. No matter what anyone said, when you could hold a person, when you could exchange whispered thoughts and feelings, how could that person not be alive? In some way. Soul or not, there was an intensity to Rosalyn that broke through, and the werewolf had no doubt that it was truly her.
After watching Rosalyn take off her shoes, Gavin stopped to kick off his boots, his socks soon finding themselves dropped at his feet. "Hey, wait up." The werewolf jogged a few steps, slowing as he neared her side. The sand was cool and moulded against his feet with every step, soothing after a night of dancing. The coaxing sound of the water drew his attention and he turned to witness it caress the beach.
Letting his fingertips catch hers, the werewolf gave her a serious look, "Do you want to walk through it?"
"You're asking me?" Rosalyn laughed and looked at his feet, which were pale from the winter spent in socks and boots. "You're the one who's gonna get the tooth-chatters, Vine." She turned and backed into the shallow surf, letting it lick her heels. The temperature of the gulf was bone-chilling, but she didn't need circulation. She just wanted to feel the water swirling against her skin, to smell of sea salt later in the hotel room.
She laced their fingers together and tugged him forward. It was very dark away from the lights of the boardwalk, but she could still see the handsome planes of his face. He gave her the down-deep shivers, which surprised her at times. How could a man be such a dreamboat that he kept her attention rapt for months? Was it just the depth of Gavin's charm, or something in her? Immortality and long years of little use had apparently not wilted her heart, because it opened like a flower whenever the werewolf was around.
There was a bittersweet tinge to their vacation. It caught her off-guard in the bathroom earlier on, startling in its sharpness. She went in to wash her face and change. While at the sink, she discovered she smelled just like him. Rosalyn breathed deep into the fabric of her nightgown and experienced a lump in her throat, because she couldn't wake up like that every day. By the time she went back into the bedroom, she was all smiles, winks, wagging fingertips. His Rose.
"Just a little. C'mere." Rose smiled.
"What, you think I can't take a little cold water?" The tone was low, and would have been menacing had his eyes not given him away. With each step back she took, Gavin took one forward, until his toes were assaulted with the cold liquid. Startling at first until his skin gently numbed. It was almost too good to be true. Freedom to openly care and adore the woman who was always on his mind. Deep inside the werewolf a little part was already mourning the end to the vacation. The thought of going back to reality, responsibility, was almost smothering.
Casually his icy feet inched forward until Gavin's toes were touching Rosalyn's. With their hands by their sides, the werewolf's broad chest brushed ghostly against the vampire's. "Hmm..." Cocking his head to the side, he watched fondly at the way she watched him back. Gently his hands freed from Rosalyn's, lifting to first cup her cheeks, then glide down her neck to finally settle on her upper arms. "I was wondering..." His large hands gripped her more tightly, but by no means painful, "About throwing me into the water, you aren't thinking about that right now?" A particularly wolfish look crossed Gavin's face. "Are you, Rosalyn?"
Even in the dark, it would've been easy to see Rosalyn's eyes widen. "Nooo," she said, quickly sliding her arms around his back and putting her hands up under his shirt. She grabbed onto great fistfuls of fabric meant to hold onto him tightly, should he get any bright ideas. "Are you?" she asked accusingly. Her voice quavered with laughter.
Cold water didn't hurt her, but it wasn't all that cozy. Especially not if her blouse and skirt got soaked with it! She made up her mind then and there; If Gavin pulled any slick maneuvers, she would take him down with her. "Because if you are, you better cool your jets, hot shot."
Gavin snorted at her protest. Once her hands had found his shirt however, he was suddenly very still. "Me?" The tip of his nose bumped against Rosalyn's, and he savoured the silence and anticipation that occurred whenever her lips were in kissing distance. Tilting his head, the werewolf's mouth moved to breathe warmly against a pale ear, "Would I do that to you?"
As he spoke, Gavin's arms snaked around Rosalyn's smaller frame, restricting her movement. "It depends who hit the water first, maybe it would be worth it." With his voice lowered, and chin resting on her shoulder, he added teasingly, "I don't like the odds." Pulling back with a mischievous grin, his arms loosened and his hands dropped to the soft curve of her lower back.
Would he do that to her? Yes, thought Rose, yes he would! But he probably realized he'd end up sputtering in the salty water, too, because she'd latch onto him like a frantic cat with her claws out. It'd be a big tickle until a breeze came along and hit their cold, damp skin. She imagined the faces of the hotel desk clerks as they trudged in, sopping wet from head to toe, trailing silt across the tiles.
"I've got some better odds for you." Rosalyn stroked the length of the werewolf's back, her hands soft as silk and persuasive, her fingernails sharp. She knew when to apply which sensation, how delicately to engage those nails so that they only scratched in pleasant ways. "You and me later on. I like how you smell."
She went on her tiptoes and nestled her nose in the crook of his neck, breathing in his masculine scent. The small, rhythmic waves of the gulf tickled her arches. Then a bigger one came along and sloshed against her ankles. "Let's just make the world stop right now, what do you say?"
Hazel eyes closed as Gavin absorbed the tender, teasing touches. Simple and gentle affection that could somehow leave him glowing inside. "That's your line?" Opening his eyes, the werewolf tried desperately not to laugh, coughing instead. "You like how I smell?" Lips now tugging into a grin, he couldn't resist one last comment, "Does that work with most men?"
With his hands on Rosalyn's hips, the werewolf took a few small steps back, just enough so that his own heels weren't freezing anymore. The water still tumbled across his toes, trying to lure him back in. Bringing his large hand up, Gavin brushed the side of Rosalyn's cheek, his fingers brushing into her hair. "I say we do that."
Rose pretended to ignore the compelling way he played with her hair. "Don't laugh!" She socked his arm in a feminine huff. A sense of smell was a powerful attractor, and his body chemistry was so fantastic, she had to clamp down on the urge to lick his sweat-flavored throat. "I don't know if it works on most men," she said archly. She peered over the werewolf's shoulder at the buildings beyond the boardwalk. The lilt of country western music carried on the night air.
"But maybe there's a lonely cowpoke around here somewhere," she teased, having no urge to leave the werewolf and his sexy way of making fun. "Do you think they make love with their fancy boots and hats on?" That would be a sight to behold, and not one that Rose found particularly arousing.
"Well it works on this one." Gavin stifled his laughter as he was hit, leaning intentionally against her afterwards. "Maybe, they take it a bit seriously down here, don't they?" Quirking an eyebrow, the werewolf added, "Wait, do you mean that's all they have on, or are clothes part of the hats and boots?" With the clothes, that was bad enough, but without them seemed far worse in Gavin's mind.
"Then again, if you dressed up, I don't think I'd laugh." The werewolf dared to sweep his gaze down Rosalyn's body, then back up to her face, the corners of his mouth twitching as he barely contained his amusement. "I think you'd suit it." Would she thump him again? Gavin ducked out of her reach just in case.
"So now you want a cowgirl, huh?" Rose said, and she did thump him, a light smack of her knuckles on Gavin's wide chest. As much of a girly-girl as the vampire was, she couldn't picture herself kicking up her heel spurs in the O-K corral, roping cattle or sheering sheep whatever else farmhands did. But there was a certain appeal to the idea of hopping on Gavin's saddle... "Well, I don't know how they do it," she said, "But I'd keep it all on for effect. Maybe a cute little skirt and a vest with fringe..." She cocked her head and held her thumbs and forefingers up in gun shapes. "A pistol or a lasso, which do you think?"
Out in the gulf, a boat cruised by, creating a wake of cold waves that slowly rolled to the shore. One of them slapped against Rose's calf. She yelped in surprise and bounced against Gavin.
Gavin's laughter sounded through the air like a bark, loud and sudden but gone just as quickly. He couldn't help it, the look on Rosalyn's face as she lightly hit his chest was priceless. In all honesty he had never considered a cowgirl, the word alone made him chortle, but there was such fun in teasing the vampire that he couldn't help himself. "I wouldn't trade you in for anyone, even a cowgirl, as tempting as that may be."
"Oh would you?" The werewolf seemed rather interested now, and tried to actually picture it, "Pistol. I'm not letting you anywhere near me with rope." It wasn't that Gavin didn't trust her, oh no, he trusted her enough to know it would mean trouble for him. Freezing water splashed over his feet, and as Rosalyn moved, he swung one arm under her knees as the other went around her back. Cradling her against his chest as he walked them out of the surf. "I think that's enough water for one night."
"Aww, party pooper." As she encircled Gavin's neck with her arms, Rose felt as tiny as a child. She tickled the werewolf's nape. Although the night was warm, the air chilled her feet and gave her goosebumps. "'Fraid I'd tie you up and never let you loose?" The vampire's imagination ran wild with that scenario. It was the only practical use she had for bedposts, other than a place to hang her lingerie. Wouldn't he look gorgeous, all trussed up and helpless on her duvet? Oh, who was she fooling? He'd get through the knots in two minutes flat.
"No, I know," she corrected herself with a teasing smile. "My earthbound guy's too square for kinks."
Those gentle fingers at the back of his neck gave his right leg a spasm, Gavin's sand covered feet sent him slightly sideways. "Are you claiming you wouldn't ever do that?" Looking down at Rosalyn, he couldn't help but smile, and his arms tightened around her. She was his, as much as he was hers. With that in mind, the werewolf was fully intent on carrying her back to her shoes, until her next words reached his ears. "You think I'm square?" Gavin stopped, tilting his head to gaze into her eyes, "I could have kinks, you just don't know." After a pause he kept walking, the cogs in his head slowly turning, as if her teasing words were a mini mind bomb. Did she think he was square, or worse, was he and he didn't realise?
Setting Rosalyn back on her feet, the werewolf picked up his socks and wiped off the sand stuck to his feet. Pushing his boots on, Gavin threw one of his sand covered socks at the vampire, a grin on his face as he walked up to her. "Do you have kinks?"
On a reflex, Rose batted the balled-up sock. It bounced into a shallow hole in the sand. "You're the good kind of square!" she assured him, smiling so that her eyes glittered under the streetlamps. He certainly wasn't boring, like her ex-husband. What a snore; that man was so square, he had corners. "With you, it's only superficial, meaning underneath those straight laces, there's something wild."
She dusted off her feet and began to strap her shoes back on, not bothering with the nylons. "Everybody has kinks. I already know one of yours." Rose finished with the tiny clasps and straightened up, nylons hanging from her fingertips.
"Okay, I can take that." Gavin dusted his palms against his shirt, not bothering about the marks he left behind. Under the stars, Rosalyn looked beautiful, the silver light danced across her features in a ghostly alluring away. Though to be fair, under any light she looked beautiful, providing it wasn't direct sunlight. "You're pretty wild yourself." Gavin wondered if it was her own wild streak that brought out his, or maybe they just complimented each other.
Having been watching Rosalyn bent over, Gavin looked away as she straightened, "One of mine?" The werewolf grinned, tilting his head as he brought a hand up to rub the stubble on his jaw, "What one is that?"
"Oh, gee, I wonder," she said sweetly. Rose took his arms and pivoted, pulling him up against her spine. She wrapped herself up in him, like a butterfly inside a cocoon, his forearms muscular and soft with hair. "Is this ringing any bells, or should I bend over and pick up your dirty sock?" She aimed a cheeky smile over her shoulder.
The back of Gavin's neck started to redden, holding Rosalyn so close left him in danger of becoming light headed with her scent. Dipping his head down, the werewolf nuzzled the soft spot behind her ear, and strands of her hair tickled the side of his face. "You're one to talk, Miss Kitchen Counter." His teeth on her earlobe were a sharp contrast as he nipped her playfully.
"Well, what else are they good for?" Rosalyn asked, gazing down at their feet, Gavin's in well-used boots, hers in polished heels. "I'm no Betty Crocker." No, she certainly wasn't. Even as a society wife, making home-cooked meals hadn't been much of a responsibility, because they could hire someone to do it. Lawrence had given up on it after Rosalyn kept burning herself accidentally-on-purpose.
And now, what she'd learned about cooking in home economics classes in the 1940s was long forgotten from under-use.
Shaking his head, Gavin flexed his arms as he held onto the vampire tightly, as if he was about to pick her up and run off. "Trust me when I say preparing food. It isn't so bad, really." Although she did have a good point, that was the most fun he'd had in his kitchen. "Well who said that the guy can't be the cook in a relationship?" Keeping her in his warm embrace, the werewolf swayed with her slowly, from side to side. Conventional was over rated.
"Now you're talking." After all, there was only so much femininity that could be expected of a gal, Rose thought. She'd sew and doll herself up and be demure forever, but the kitchen stove was just too much to ask. Especially nowadays, when she could pour hot sauce down her throat and barely recognize a desirable flavor.
For a few quiet moments, she rocked in his arms and closed her eyes. The whole world was just Gavin, the water, the wind, and the faint music drifting on the air. Rose felt a wave of selfishness overtake her. She wanted to bottle the moment like perfume and keep it all to herself. Becoming a vampire had not convinced Rose there was no God, quite the opposite, though she'd never been a church girl, or in a real hurry to confess her sins and be contrite. Right about now, she was asking the old coot why he had such a wicked sense of humor.
"So what now?" Rose tilted her head back. "Are those your dancing shoes, or do you want to turn in?"
"I think I would much rather dance with you in private now." While it may have sounded rather sordid, Gavin was thinking of something he'd thought of saying before, and tonight felt right. Breathing in the scent of Rosalyn, his arms shifted until he was by her side, one of his hands scooping up hers so that his thumb could trace along her knuckles. There was a mushy side to him that wasn't often shown, but every moment with Rosalyn brought it closer to the surface. "What about you, we can go dancing again of you want." The werewolf felt himself smile, "It was fun."
"It was a blast," she agreed. "But I think my line-dancing days are over." Ask her again in a month or so, and maybe she'd have a change of heart. At the moment, Rose wanted nothing more than the comfort of their hotel room carpet under her bare, un-sandy feet. "Let's go back to the hotel." Swinging Gavin's fist in one hand and her nylons in the other, Rose began to walk along the boardwalk, towards the suite that was only a few buildings away. In the off-season, it had been easy as pie to secure a room with a view overlooking the water.
They walked in a comfortable silence, just taking in the moment of being there together. Once they were in the hotel, a short ride on the elevator brought them to their door. Pulling the key from his pocket, Gavin let them in, closing the door behind Rosalyn. "Home sweet home." The werewolf joked, but he really enjoyed the way the place smelled like both of them. As if, even for a short while, it was their home. Again he kicked his boots off, scrunching his toes into the carpet. "What are you thinking?" This seemed like a fair question to the werewolf rubbing the base of his neck, because he was about to voice what he was.
Rose unbuckled her shoes as the door closed with a quiet click. "What am I thinking?" she repeated, giving a funny little smile. "I don't know." Slinging the shoes by their straps, she tossed them at the closet, where they landed in a pile of five other pairs she couldn't bear to leave in Chicago. She turned her attention to the pearls in her earlobes, unfastening them as she walked closer.
"I'm thinking you look like a million bucks tonight." Rose tipped her head and worked loose the second earring. Barefoot, she was much shorter than him. It was a reach to kiss the pulse thumping rapidly under his jaw, but she did. Long ago, her lipstick had faded away, so there wasn't any left behind.
Gavin watched her, his gaze not so much curious as it was content, when her second earring was out his arm snaked around her waist. One subtle step meant that his body pressed warmly against the vampire's. Taking a deep breath, the werewolf lowered his head to look into blue eyes, and the fingers of his free hand caught her chin lightly. "I need to tell you something, and before I do..." The tips of his fingers trailed up to brush behind her ear, "I want you to know that I've thought about it for a while, and I'm certain."
Pausing for a few seconds, Gavin pressed his palm against her pale cheek, "I love you, Rosalyn. I can't imagine living my life without you in it anymore, and I know they say you don't have a soul, but I really can't deny the way you complete mine." The werewolf looked away slightly, embarrassed by the sudden revelation.
Rosalyn's mouth was parted, left open and wordless while she searched his face. She clenched the pearl earrings, their posts sharp in the palm of her hand, a tiny, earthly pain that kept her feet fastened to the floor. "Gavin..." The vampire leaned back on his arm.
Rose was grateful that she wasn't an altruistic girl who'd tell him to save himself for a lover with a heartbeat, a normal appetite, and a lifeline that didn't end, short and shallow, in her palm. She was grateful that she didn't care about his pack and what they wanted. Who were they to say she wasn't good enough? What was a soul, anyway? Nothing that could wrap Gavin in its arms while he slept or make him laugh. Plenty of women with so-called souls were as cruel and selfish as any vampire.
There was every chance this could end in catastrophe. Be a real train wreck of an affair. Rose didn't care, because Gavin was the man she spent her girlhood mooning over; seventy years later, she still wanted it.
She put her lips on the corner of his mouth. "I love you, too."
Gavin tensed at the mention of his name. Now that he had said it, the anxiety of not hearing it back sent his heart racing, he could feel it trying to burst from his ribcage. "Hmm?" The werewolf closed his eyes as her lips brushed against his skin, the breath he had been holding was sighed out quietly, his posture not so rigid anymore. "I was really hoping you'd say that." Grinning warmly, the werewolf captured Rosalyn's lips softly in a lingering kiss. He couldn't recall a time when he was as happy as he felt right now.
Turning to whisper against Rosalyn's ear, Gavin's smile could be heard in his voice, "So... Does this mean that you'll respect me in the morning now?"
"Mmm," went Rose's playful noise of consideration. She chewed her lip and stared at the ceiling, the wheels already churning inside her head. "Well, I dunno. Let's do something really shameful tonight and test it out." Just what that sinful activity might be, she wasn't sure yet, but who better for Gavin to share his secret kinks with than the girl he loved? Oh, the things she could milk out of that confession.
"What do you say?" Rose pulled back and traced a fingertip around his mouth.
Everything about the vampire was distracting him right now, those words hadn't helped one bit, well... Not if he was to behave himself. "Uh..." Gavin wasn't sure if she was being serious or not. Then again, Rosalyn was good about speaking her mind. "I say we have something shameful to do." If she laughed then he'd laugh along with her, nothing was going to take his glow away, because she loved him. The werewolf believed her.
Letting his bristled chin nudge the soft curve of her neck, Gavin admitted with a hint of bashfulness, "I respect you anyway."
Rose smiled, because she knew he couldn't see her. There was proof positive that Gavin was a stand-up guy. Not only would he screw her brains out and respect her in the morning, he'd take the time to make sure she knew it. "So what're you waiting for, handsome?" She crooked a finger at him and took a backwards step, inching farther into the bedroom, her fingers bunching in his shirt. "Let's get creative."