Stop Dragon My Heart Around Read online

  Inside, the Chief added a spoonful of water to hot rock, and moist steam filled the space. Leo sat, deliberately breathing air through his nose to cool the impact to his lungs. His dragon wings throbbed against his back, straining against his spine for release, looking for any escape from the discomfort. He closed his eyes and forced deep breaths in and out of his lungs.

  “This is why I trust you with my daughter,” the Chief said. “Your dragon fights for control, but you’re the master of your spirit.”

  Leo looked through the heat at his friend, who sat cross-legged across the hot rocks from him. “What threatens Tee?”

  The Chief’s chest rose and fell, and his bronze skin glistened with sweat. “Tee isn’t my biological daughter.”

  “What?” Leo’s dragon jumped inside him.

  “She doesn’t know. Her father was a white man.”

  “You’re worried that the tribal blood testing would reveal this to her?”

  “Yes.”

  “You need to tell her yourself, before they reveal it to her.” Leo leaned forward into the uncomfortable steam.

  “My wife didn’t wish Tee to know about her father. I cannot dishonor her wishes.”

  The Chief was careful not to say the name of his deceased wife. It was Native American custom, to not speak the name of the dead. “Tee’s mother was pregnant when we married. It shamed my wife, but I never cared. I loved them both.”

  “Does anyone else in the tribe know?”

  “Yes.”

  Chapter Six

  Shhhh-lish, Shhhh-lish, Shhhh-lish. The sound of Mei exercising on her elliptical machine woke Tee the next morning.

  In the hallway, Mei picked up her pace and the sound came faster. Tee guessed she should be grateful that they had moved the equipment into the hall so the levers on Mei’s machine weren’t right next to her bed.

  She moaned and put the pillow over her head, but the grinding gears still barraged her ears. She raised her head to squint at her lender-bedroom, noting that it was still dark outside the apartment’s windows.

  In one corner, Jane’s art supplies sat neatly arranged next to an easel. In another, yoga mats and as-seen-on-TV exercise equipment were piled in unopened boxes. On the wall, directly in her line of sight, was one of Jane’s paintings. Tee had liked it so much she had snagged it from the closet.

  The picture resonated. Black-blue ocean waves crashed around a centered lighthouse. On the lighthouse rail, a blurry person lifted a lantern. The effect of the painting was survival, like a beacon in an angry sea. The waves always seemed to pull Tee into the turmoil and shake her in the surf.

  She liked to see the painting when she awoke, because it reminded her of her responsibility to her players. Most of them came to Vegas like a ship under full sail on a wild sea. If she did her job right, they lost only what they could afford, and she turned on the lighthouse lantern and sent them home before they went completely bust. Even the biggest whales had their limits and rocky shoals that could wreck their lives.

  It was just a question of zeroes.

  She was good at her job, the best on the Strip. With this year’s bonus payout, she would finally have enough for her own place after years of funneling her biggest earnings into the reservation’s school.

  No one in the tribe but the school’s principal knew where the money came from. She kept it a secret because she didn’t want the tribe pressuring the Chief to have her put the money on some other project less worthy than the school. She believed in the reservation kids, not the tobacco shop or fireworks stand, or whatever make-money scheme the council had going.

  Leo knew about her secret money gifts. He understood, but he’d encouraged her to make her biggest gift yet, the coming bonus money win, public. It felt like the right time to come out of the shadows as the school’s benefactor. It seemed that Leo understood her better than she understood herself sometimes. She just wished the inverse were true as well.

  Sighing, Tee got a flash of the sexy dream she’d been having about him, all stretched out in her bed—a real framed bed, not her current lumpy futon. Leo, all bare chested, hot and sexy, hard contoured, and smiling up at her.

  Her stomach clenched, achy with need. How long had it been since she’d had time for a date, let alone real sex? She thought back to the nice guy in accounting, the one Jane had set her up with and whom Mei had called marshmallow-waist. He’d already had a mini-van and a house, despite not having a wife. Tee thought back on their one and only date. She’d worn green because it was St. Patrick’s Day.

  Over a year since her last date.

  Pathetic.

  She got out of bed and stumbled by Mei in the hallway. “Morning.” Her voice sounded deep and growly like a black bear woken from hibernation.

  Mei continued huffing in Mandarin with her iPod and waved as she squeezed by. The strange circle tattoo Mei usually covered with makeup glistened with sweat on her slender left hand.

  “Hey,” Jane greeted from the kitchen. She pulled a coffee mug off the single-serving machine and blew over the top. Her normal, miss-nothing expression was soft and pillow-creased, and her usually board-straight brown hair hung in lanky snarls. She wore an oversized Broncos tee shirt, which fell to mid-thigh, and read “Proud member of the Mile High Club.”

  “I didn’t expect you to be here this morning,” she said.

  “I came in around three.” Tee groaned and sat down hard on a stool on the other side of the kitchen bar. She pushed her heavy black braid over her shoulder. “I got all my whales settled in early.”

  “You’ve got a good batch this weekend?”

  Tee nodded and a series of Mei’s discordant notes drifted past them from the hallway. “She sounds like an out-of-tune parakeet when she sings.”

  Jane laughed. “I know, but hell, she gets her workouts in. Maybe I should borrow her iPod.”

  “Hummm.” They both knew it was Mei, not her music, which fueled their friend’s rigid routines. “What’s with the tattoo on her hand? She doesn’t have it covered up with makeup yet, you can really see it this morning.”

  Jane took a careful sip and swallowed. “Dunno.”

  Somehow, Tee knew that Jane was lying, but she didn’t want to push her to reveal the confidence. Jane and Mei had been roommates before Tee had taken the job at the Crown Jewel.

  Mei had taken pity on Tee because she drove back and forth to the rez each day and invited her to stay in their spare room. Although Jane and Mei weren’t overtly bff-y, they were tight, and loyal to each other. Tee admired that.

  “Will you coffee me, please?” She nodded at the coffee machine.

  Jane put a mug and canister of Tee’s favorite blend into the machine and started the brew button. The bitter hot smell of Dark Magic, a triple java jolt, wafted across the bar with a welcome aroma.

  “Oh gimme, gimme…” Tee beckoned with her hands. “Pleeease.” When the machine quit hissing, Jane handed the mug over the counter.

  “Gracias, chica mia.”

  Jane leaned against the counter companionably. “How come you never use any Native American words?”

  “We don’t share the old words the same way others do.”

  “Oh.” Jane looked intrigued. “Do you ever miss your tribe? You know, belonging to something bigger than yourself?”

  “I still belong.” Testiness rose in her at the question. “I’m going to the festival, and I always know what’s going on with the kids in school.” She took her first taste of coffee. Espresso grade brew filled her mouth with the flavor of smoky grounds and spikey caffeine. “I just belong on my own terms.”

  “Is that possible?” Jane leaned her elbows on the island bar.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, when you belong to a group, you kind of have to be a part of the group to belong.”

  “I belong.” Tee frowned.

  “Right. But if you live here and work here and only go back for the ceremonies, when do you become more of a visitor than a
member?”

  The question sounded like something the Chief would ask. It was way too early for an interrogation, but Tee knew Jane was only asking out of good-natured curiosity.

  “It’s hard to explain.” She took a deep sip and swallowed before continuing. “You’re a die-hard Broncos fan, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “You live in Nevada now, but the fact that you live here and work here doesn’t make you any less a fan.”

  Jane looked thoughtful. “Good point.”

  “Besides they take my money, I have to belong, right?” They sipped coffee in silence. By the bottom of the mug, Tee’s eye lids still felt like they were matted with super glue. It was a two-cup morning.

  “Have you got a lot going on today?”

  “Yes.” Tee slid her mug across the counter for a refill.

  Jane loaded up the machine. “Have you seen Leo since he came to your office?” She worked the levers and handed Tee back another full mug.

  “No.” Tee’s stomach soured at the frustrating thought of Leo. She set aside the coffee to cool. “I looked for him all day yesterday in between taking care of my players, but nobody knew where he was.”

  “Are you still planning on going through with Operation Leo?” Jane smiled, wide-awake now. Whereas her questions about the tribe had had a languid stream of conscious feel to them, now her eyes were sharp, and her body angled forward across the bar for immediate answers.

  “I’m just going to go to the festival and see what happens. If he keeps acting like he isn’t interested, I need to move on.”

  “Maybe you should just tell him how you feel?”

  Tee sighed. Somehow that level of honesty seemed risky in the extreme. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll make a move on Leo when Mei goes out with Darius and you have a one-night stand with some hot dude.”

  “Mei will never agree.” Jane looked thoughtfully toward the hall where Mei’s machine and voice still dueted. “She avoids Darius like the plague.”

  “And you?” The hot coffee warmed her blood and was tricking her body into thinking it had a full night of sleep. She was almost as awake as Jane.

  “You know guys never get me,” Jane said matter-of-factly. “They’re intimidated by me.”

  It was true. Few ever got past Jane’s uncrackable veneer.

  “You should invite some hot dude over for an art lesson.”

  Jane looked at her quizzically. “What guy is interested in art lessons?”

  “You only need one. You let your guard down when you’re painting. It makes you seem more approachable and girly.”

  Jane raised her brows, seeming genuinely surprised at this vulnerability in her armor. “All right, I’ll have a Patrick-Swayze, Ghost-worthy, studio make-out session with some hot dude after you pull off Operation Leo. Deal?”

  “Deal.”

  “But you have to talk to him today.”

  “What? Why? I was going to wait until the festival, less distractions.”

  “You need to just get it over with. That way if he’s like, ‘sorry about the kiss, I just want to be friends,’ you can do something else for the festival.”

  Nerves tangled with the coffee in Tee’s stomach as she considered telling Leo she loved him. Sweat broke out on the back of her neck and her pajamas seemed itchy and hot. “I don’t know.”

  “Yes you do.”

  “All right,” Tee said, feeling braver. “By this time tonight, I’ll have an answer.” She liked the idea of just being done with the uncertainty and confusion. It was practical. It made sense. She would just be honest with him.

  …

  Operation be-honest-with-Leo never got off the ground because the Casino Operations Manager was definitely avoiding her. Tee fought frustration at his continued absence, but wasn’t really sure what she would do if she did find him. Would she be playful, like “Heya big guy, I hear the libido deck is nice this time of year”...or, “Are ya glad to see me, or is that a roll of poker chips in your pants?”

  Or serious, like “I’ve loved you forever, do you feel the same way?”

  Argh.

  Her head hurt, and her stomach twisted in knots at the thought of trying to talk to him. The more she turned the situation over—their long friendship, the hot kiss, and the strange distance afterwards—the more she wanted answers. Even if they were unhappy answers.

  Jane was right. They needed to talk before the festival, so she could tell Leo not to come if he really didn’t want a relationship with her. It would be awful to have him there if he rebuffed her—she was uncertain enough when she was with the tribe. Better to take her licks in private without them watching everything she did.

  The weekend with her clients went smoothly. Mr. M. lost his usual money, and her other whales also lost just enough. Her players had a great time and were already talking about when they could return. To top it off, Roy had a lousy weekend. Rumor had it that his big whale left for the Golden Nugget. Ouch. She didn’t feel a bit sorry for him.

  Jane let her know, on the QT, that she had the yearly bonus won.

  Finally, she could reveal herself as the school’s benefactor and get a place of her own. No more in-your-face morning exercise machines. No more pressure from the Chief to move back to the rez so she could be under his watchful eye. Happy vibes coursed through her system, like she’d received flowers with a secret admirer note, but better. Everyone knew that houses and textbooks lasted way longer than roses.

  “Okay,” Tee said to get Angie and Trixie’s attention. The girls stood with her inside the Crown Jewel Bridal room, waiting for their ceremony to begin.

  In the hopes of a possible Operation Leo maneuver, Tee had skimped-up her clothing, but still kept with the wedding’s western theme. She wore red cowboy boots and a short, mid-thigh chambray peasant dress with a wide leather belt.

  It was Wednesday evening, before Mr. M. and his girls were scheduled to fly back to Montana: fake wedding time. “Remember, you two are going to walk each other down the aisle and then light the unity candle together. Go slow, enjoy your moment, and count one-one thousand for each step.”

  “Do we really have to count all the way to a thousand?” Trixie asked. “That’ll take a really long time.”

  “No, no,” Tee responded patiently. “You don’t actually count to a thousand, you just say one-one thousand in your head.”

  Trixie twisted up her pretty features in a frown. “I’m confused.”

  “Never mind. I’ll tap my foot to give you the pace.”

  “Okay.” Trixie brightened. “I can do that.”

  When the door opened, Tee looked over her shoulder to frown at Mr. M. for peeking, but saw Leo instead. Her heart slammed and nerves crawled up her back, but she managed a welcoming smile.

  Leo strolled into the bridal room, tucking his hands in the pants pockets of his navy blue suit. The collar of his white shirt showed a tanned vee of skin at his neck. He looked like a GQ model arrived for a photo shoot.

  God, he was so gorgeous.

  His eyes walked up her boots, took in her bare, exposed legs, then skimmed over her hamstrings and stopped on her rear. The short hemline of the dress burned the back of her legs under his gaze.

  “Hey there, Thor.” Angie winked and cocked her pink-satin-swathed hip at him. “Come to catch the bouquet?”

  Next to her, Trixie, in purple-sequined-silk, twirled her iris and pink rose bouquet, bending the bridal bouquet stems.

  “No, no. I’ve seen that ruckus before. A three-hundred-pound defensive tackle better watch out when there’s a wedding bouquet in the air. You girls can make football look like a senior citizens’ game of badminton.”

  Tee’s smile widened at the image. Badminton. She played back his Aussie accent in her head, letting the melodic syllables drip over her brain cells. Senior citizens. Football. Leo said the craziest things sometimes. He was so freakin’ hot.

  Focus. She needed to talk to him, not daydream about him.

  He locked ey
es with her and frowned, and Tee jerked her attention back to the brides. “Ladies. Pay attention. The music is about to start.” The pair looked a little startled. “Any last questions?”

  “This is not legal-like, right?” Angie asked, showing a wad of pink gum in her mouth.

  Silently, Tee held her hand out and Angie spat the gum into her palm. “Right.” She dropped the gum in the nearby wastebasket and wiped off her hand with a disinfectant tissue.

  “Even in Vegas, you can’t marry two women.” Tee smiled, entirely pleased that the explanation was true, but still left out the fact that Mr. M. already had a wife number-one. “This is a commitment ceremony only.”

  From the wedding chapel, the pianist hit a six-fingered C chord. The service was ready to begin. Tee ushered the girls past Leo into the elegant, baroque-style wedding chapel decorated in their chosen colors: garish pink and purple.

  Tee stood against the back wall to watch. She tapped the floor with her boot, showing the girls the right pace.

  Trixie nodded at her. “Got it.”

  Silently, Leo came to stand next to her. The heat from his body warmed her side. “Where’ve you been?” she whispered. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

  “Around,” Leo said, but didn’t volunteer where.

  At the end of the aisle, Mr. M. waited, all decked-out in a gray Armani suit with a bolero tie and yet another new pair of boots. He’d left off his cowboy hat for the occasion, showing a nice patch of combed, grayish hair. At Tee’s nod, the pianist and an opera-trained mezzo-soprano begin to duet to Celine Dion’s “My Heart Will Go On.”

  On cue, Angie and Trixie stepped up the aisle arm in arm, obviously enjoying the slow parade. Tee watched Mr. M.’s face as he tried to compose himself. Normally she would think he was a sleazebag cheat, but he’d sworn his wife was all for the arrangement. Tee believed him—sometimes she just knew things about her players. This was one of them. Mr. M.’s wife was happy to have her husband in Vegas getting fake hitched.

  Different strokes for different folks.

  At the front, Mr. M. swallowed several times, wiped his eyes with his thumb and middle finger, and shook his head. His emotion reached down the aisle and squeezed her heart, and Tee couldn’t help the responsive tears that swelled in her eyes. Maybe one day she would have her own wedding. Never with a crazy theme and Celine music, but something simple and classy.