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He smirked, and took another swig of his beer, then Mickey said, “And a commitment to the Jess Davis Band. I have the paperwork on my desk in my bedroom. It just needs my signature. I’m in a legitimate fucking band or I will be by tomorrow when I return all the paperwork.”
Until he actually signed the paperwork, I was still skeptical. Although, this was the closest he’d ever come.
“No fucking way,” Colt said, leaning back, grinning.
“Fucking way!” Mickey said. “I’m a new man!”
I shook my head and stared at him. “This is an incredible moment. If I kept a journal, I’d be writing it down. To the brand-new Mickey Finn.” I held up my beer for a toast. “May he live a long and happy committed life.”
I decided to go with it… at least for now. I hoped like hell he actually signed.
“To Mickey Finn,” Colt chimed in, and we all clinked bottles.
“This is all well and good, but we still haven’t really addressed the Daryl problem,” I said.
“Yeah, the Daryl problem,” Colt added.
“Fucking Daryl… we’ll just have to talk to him,” Mickey said.
“Good luck with that, Mickey,” Colt said.
“I’m not talking to him,” he said. “I think you should talk to him, Colt.”
“He wants nothing to do with me,” Colt reminded him. “Scotty, you can do it. He still likes you, and besides, he’s probably guilty for punching you in the face instead of Mickey.”
“He did just fine with the first punch. I didn’t need a second,” Mickey said, stroking his jaw.
“I’m not talking to anybody but CindyLou,” I told them. “If she wants this, she’s the one who needs to tell Daryl, and that’s only if she feels as though he needs to know. She has him wrapped around her little finger. If it comes from her, he might be more receptive to the idea.”
“Or we can just try to keep it between ourselves for as long as we can get away with it,” Colt offered, sounding as if he thought this was the more reasonable idea, at least for the near future. After all, she might not go for any of this.
“Not to throw a wrench into this whole mix, but Colt, did you ever consider how your own parents will handle this? I’ve been thinking about mine, and I’m not too sure they’re going to be too happy.”
“Wait a minute…. Hold on… it’s not like she even said yes, yet…” Mickey stopped talking and instead sucked in air and yawned like he could fall asleep right there on the counter. One thing about Mickey, he could sleep almost anywhere, and at any time. Colt and I always struggled with sleep, even when we were in our own beds. It all depended on what was going on in our lives, and right now, there were so many decisions and new steps forward that if I ever slept again, I’d be amazed.
“Mickey’s right… Plus, that’s our cue. It’s time to call it a night. The couch is yours if you want it, Colt,” I told him.
“Thanks. I don’t trust myself out on the roads. I’ll take it.”
Ten minutes later, it was lights out and we were all asleep… well kind of. I was still trying to imagine all four of us in bed and couldn’t get to sleep until I jacked-off.
Then… I fell asleep.
CindyLou 13
I drove over and picked up Darci a little earlier this morning. I wasn’t nearly as drained from the second night as I was from the first. My feet still hurt, and my lower back didn’t want to let go of all the hurt just yet, but with the help of a couple over-the-counter pain meds and a more positive mindset, I was up and at ‘em before Colt came home.
Not wanting to bump into him this morning also propelled me to get my ass out of bed and head out to pick up Darci who always cheered me up.
“She slept right on through the night this time,” Aunt Donna said, as I held my girl in my arms. She’d come crawling right for me as soon as I walked through the door, filling my heart with so much love, it wanted to burst.
“You’re such a good girl,” I told her as I gave her a tight hug and her little head drooped on my shoulder for a moment. I loved that little move of hers. It always made me feel as though we had a bond nothing could ever break.
“Thanks so much, Auntie. I don’t know how I could ever do this without you and uncle,” I told her as she wiped her hands on her apron. Aunt Donna always wore a clean white bib apron whenever she cooked or tidied up in her kitchen. If it wasn’t for the jeans, I’d think we’d dropped back in time. I supposed she got the habit from working as a sous chef when she was younger, before she married Uncle Daryl. She’d grown up wanting to own her own restaurant, but then she met Uncle Daryl, and his dream took preference… a horse ranch. Of course, this was after his boxing days. They both gave up on their big dreams for a simpler life.
She was still an amazing cook, however, and had penned a couple cookbooks, both geared for cooking bigger ranch meals. The money for those books got them through the tough startup years on the ranch.
Uncle Daryl’s boxing… well, he left it completely behind… for the most part. However, on occasion, such as the other night, his old habit reared its aggressive head.
