Page 41 of Stirring Up Trouble
I threw on some pajama pants and a t-shirt, then went downstairs.
As I suspected, Ms. Connie was already up and laying out everything for breakfast. She smiled when she saw me enter the kitchen. Then her eyes went wide.
"Oh, sweetheart, he definitely decided to let everybody know you were taken."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
She pointed to her neck. "You ain’t passed a mirror? Looks like someone attacked you."
I gasped, clutching at my neck and running off down the hall. Her laughter followed me all the way up until I pushed in the bathroom and closed the door behind me. I took a minute to breathe before I faced my reflection.
It was then I saw what she meant. There were hickeys everywhere. It really did look like I'd been to war.
And while a part of me was embarrassed by it, another was deeply aroused.
He marked me.
He wanted people to know —as if the kiss wasn't clear enough yesterday— then this would be. There was no mistaking it.
No mistaking us.
After that, I stood a bit taller. I made sure there were no other marks on me, which to be honest, was dumb in hindsight. I was covered. Everywhere his mouth and hands had been held an echo of the pleasure he’d brought me.
I straightened myself up and went back to join Ms. Connie. She raised her brow when I walked in. "You better now? Or do you need another minute to admire his handiwork?”
I laughed as I pressed a kiss to her cheek. "Thank you for letting me know. And yes, I was embracing it. There's just something about Blaze,” I sighed wistfully.
She nodded as she pulled toast from the oven. I watched as she buttered it in silence because I could tell she had something she wanted to say.
Once she laid it on the plate and loaded more bread inside, she turned to me, arms crossed. “I need you to know the Anders family loves with their whole heart. I've been with them on this land for a long time. Blaze isn't the type to be nonchalant about anything. At least not when he means business.”
“And you think he means business with me?’ I asked, curious to know her perspective.
She gave me a nod. “Yeah, I do. Because I saw the way he looks at you. I've seen the way he speaks and moves. Sure, he tried to deny things at first, but there was no escaping this pull you two have to one another. The rest of us saw it long before you did.”
My jaw dropped at the revelation.
She laughed and swatted me with a towel that had been over her shoulder. “Yes, sweetie, everyone knew that you two were going to wind up together. I don't care about all this whole sexuality identity stuff that people say. You love who you love. It doesn't matter what they claim themselves to be because people change and grow.
“I've got a friend I used to go to church with who, after thirty-some-odd years of marriage, found out that her spouse did not identify with the gender they were born with.” She struggled through the words slowly. “Sorry it takes me a minute. It's sometimes confusing considering how long I've known them.”
I smiled softly, understanding where she was coming from and also proud of her for acknowledging this change.
“Anyway, as I was saying, things changed between them, and she stuck by their side. People wanted to put labels on it and tell her who she was and who she wasn't. People at the church got upset and at the end of the day, I looked her dead in the eye and told her, 'Honey, do what you want to do because those people don't pay your bills. They don't warm your bed at night. They don't love you the way your partner loves you.' I tried to get her to see they simply wouldn’t open their minds no matter how hard she tried. It was exhausting for them both, you know.”
My eyes watered at the grace she had extended her friend. It wasn't every day you heard stories like that, especially from elder people within the Queer community.
“Are the two of them still together and happy now?” I asked, curious to know the outcome of their story.
She nodded. "Yeah, they are. I see them every now and then, but they've kind of pulled back after all the hate they faced. A lot of their time is spent connecting with friends they have online or taking trips to all the places they had wanted to go when they were younger. There's a big wide world out there and a lot of them don't care about any of the other stuff that the people in a small town would.”
Her words felt a bit like a warning. Like maybe she was trying to tell me to look out for the people here. Blaze had already said that he had trouble in town due to racist idiots. I had to wonder just how much trouble it was and how much trouble there would be.
Would our relationship cause problems for him?
Would people not want to support the rodeo or the ranch?
Ms. Connie's hand on my cheek pulled me out of the tornado of thoughts. “Don't go begging for trouble, sweetheart. You and him are what matter most. It's the whole point of my story. I justwant you to understand that Blaze's heart is big. He may seem like a gruff rancher to a lot of people, but he's not. He's had to overcome a lot. People do not want to see a Black man succeed in this community. Hell, they don't want to see a Black woman do it either. Blaze’s mama fought hard to keep this ranch when her daddy left it to her. Then that bastard came along and tried to steal it from her by disguising it as love. It’s hard to judge people’s intentions, especially those who don’t look like us.”
