Chapter Five
Huxley
It was optimistic to think she would be here again so soon, but that’s what he was—much to Lo’s dismay—an optimist. But Lo should also be grateful for his optimism since he’d been grumbling about Huxley wandering around the house like a dispirited ghost, and now he didn’t have to deal with it.
And Huxley’s optimism was rewarded when he looked up to see just the blonde he was looking for stride into the main room of the club wearing mouth-watering white thigh high stockings topped with plaid bows that matched her tiny pleated skirt and the short tie that circled her delicate neck the way he wanted to do with his hand.
The other day when he’d shook her hand, her lips had parted and her eyes had widened. It had been subtle and she’d fought it, but he’d felt it. It had been subtle like a slap upside the head to him.
Like the puppy dog Lo accused him of being sometimes, he wanted to chase her, grip her in his teeth and shake his head, see what happened. What a pretty little toy to play with.
Yes, she’d been clear that she was a middle and not a little, but for her maybe he could live with that. Or…maybe she wasn’t quite as firmly a middle as she thought. There was a whole lot going on behind those hazel eyes and Huxley wanted nothing more than to figure out what it was.
He didn’t hesitate to excuse himself from the conversation he’d been mostly lurking in—that was a nice change from always being in the spotlight, even when he was listening—and headed over to Shannon. His heart flooded his chest with warmth, and it was magnificent.
For the first time in his life, he didn’t have to ignore that feeling. It had always been so dangerous he’d almost forgotten that attraction, tenderness were supposed to feel good. They did, even when his stomach twisted—not that he never got rejected, but he wasn’t often, at least not by voters and they’d been the driving force for a whole lot of his adult life. Lo made sure of it.
But when Shannon’s gaze snagged on his, he didn’t get the slightly melted smile he expected. The woman who’d been so magnetic and soft a few days ago glared at him and—fuck—winced?
What the hell had happened in the past three days and what could he do to fix it because he hated the wrenching pain in his midsection but more so he hated seeing Shannon look like that. Defensive, and not in the good-sense guarded way she’d studied him from under her lashes the last time he’d had the pleasure of her company. He might even say she looked hurt.
She folded her arms across her chest, the short sleeves of her bright white button-up showing off skin covered with goosebumps, making him wonder if she was cold. He’d give her his coat. But the way she looked around as if to make sure they weren’t alone made him certain she wouldn’t take it.
Stopping a couple feet away, Hux offered her a smile. A genuine, private one. Not the one he’d plastered on his face at rallies and fundraisers and all the stuff he’d been obligated to do when he was in office. It wasn’t that he minded—he liked talking to people, being in the spotlight and heard—but that was public and this was not. This part of his life was just for him and he could finally have it so he was damn well going to grab onto it with both hands and hold on for dear life.
“Shannon. I was hoping you’d be here. Nice to see you again.”
Her brows creased and her adorably imperfect nose wrinkled. “Are you fucking kidding me with this?”
“I—”
Oh, people swore at him all the time. He was used to seeing it in print, hearing it in person and on television and during those godforsaken podcasts. The hatred stung sometimes even though Lo told him to ignore it.
This was something else. Shannon’s vitriol wasn’t about his politics; this was personal. Not only that, but he liked her, and wanted to make her happy.
“Don’t tell me you’re one of those. I’m good enough to flirt with at the kink club but in the grocery store you won’t even talk to me? You barely looked at me. You made me feel invisible. I would never expect you—or want you—to be all, ‘Hello pretty girl I was chatting up at the fetish club we’re both new members at, can I spank you over the watermelons? And hey, here’s some ginger handy. Let me just use my Swiss army knife I carry like the goddamn Boy Scout I am and we’ll make it a little more interesting with some figging.’ But come on, not even a nod? Not even an awkward hello to acknowledge me? Get the fuck out of here with your ‘nice to see you again.’”
Grocery store? He hadn’t been to the grocery store in weeks. They usually had groceries delivered, and—
Huxley’s confusion was interrupted by a giant. Not a literal giant, although the man was very, very big—both tall as well as beefy.
“Shannon? Is there a problem?”
Hudson, that was the man’s name. He was one of the owners of the club. He’d talked at the orientation and Huxley had liked him. At the moment, Hudson with his ham-like arms did not seem to return the sentiment.
Shannon’s shoulders dropped from where they’d climbed up to her ears like Hudson’s presence relaxed and reassured her. He could understand why, he’d prefer to have Hudson on his team too. It also sparked some jealousy. He wanted to make Shannon feel that way. Not…whatever this was.
“No. I’m just trying to impart some manners to Elder here.”
Hudson’s dark brows inched up his broad forehead. “Sure. It looks like you’ve got everything handled, but I also don’t want members who make bottoms feel uncomfortable in my club.”
“Pardon, but could I—”
“Not yet,” Hudson bit off in his direction.
“Oh, actually, I’d like to hear this. He wasn’t unsafe, he was just an asshole. Acted like he was all into me at the mixer and then totally blew me off when I saw him in public. What’s your excuse? You were possessed? In a fugue state? Have multiple personalities? Were you sleep walking in the middle of the day? What do you, have an evil twin?”
He’d had a lot of practice not laughing when he wanted to. So much. He was a great poker player although not nearly as good as Lo, and he prided himself on being able to keep a straight face when it seemed damn near impossible. But for this?