Page 97 of My UnTrue Love
Clementine wasn’t convinced. “We should go on a date.” She repeated firmly. “Anywhere but The Birdcage. After my disastrous Tyler Tompkins dinner, I’m done with that restaurant forever. Have you ever tried to catch a toucan and then grill it on a stick?”
“Can’t say that I have.”
“Well, it’s not very appetizing. We can do better.” She gave a decisive sort of nod. “Ideal marriages take thought and effort. I want you to have that. I want you to be sure.”
Fuck.
Billwassure. He had been sure for ten months. Clem wasn’t all-in on having him for a husband, though. That was the only explanation for her hesitance. He had to convince her that he could do the job.
Fortunately, Bill was real good on employee interviews. He almost always got hired, once he figured out what his prospective boss wanted. Clem wanted a date, so… “Alright. Let’s go on a date. Someplace fun.”
She brightened.“Really?”
“’Course. Whatever makes you happy, darlin’.” He gestured towards the front of the racetrack. “We can start right now, in fact. You ever been to the races?” Bill led her through the arched entrance. It was made of antlers and horseshoes. “Real popular place for first dates.”
“Well, that’s lucky.”
“Innit just?”
Bill would spirit her off on a date to the goddamn Fae Islands, if that’s what it took. But Camptown Racetrack was the best he could do, for the moment. He had to start calming her nerves as quickly as possible. She wasnotgoing to slip away, now that he had a real grip on her.
They joined the throng of hardcore gamblers, down-on-their-luck cowboys, and people just out to waste an afternoon.
Clementine didn’t seem disappointed to be spending her wedding day at a seedy gambling spot. The woman was a marvel. She looked up and down the bustling thoroughfare that connected the public areas to the stables. To the left, were the betting booths and grandstands. To the right, were the horse stalls, where the jockeys and steeds waited for their chance at glory.
“It’s so big!”
“Five miles long. And the races go all night and all day.” Bill headed to the right, his hand tightening on Clem’s waist. It made him uncomfortable to have so many strangers near his va-va-voom vixen of a wife. Any of them could try and steal her away. Bill surely would, if he was them.
Clementine continued scanning around with deep interest. The racetrack was surprisingly cool, thanks to retractable awnings on the tall walls surrounding the property. Their shade, plus the dash of frozen magic that management used to chill the track’s air, meant the sun could be hot and you still might freeze to death.
Clem looked fresh and clean and thrilled to be in the midst of so much disrepute. It never even occurred to her that the world was a dangerous place. To his bride, everything was an adventure. It simultaneously frightened him and made his heart melt.
Not that coyotes had hearts.
“Are those bears having a picnic over there?” She asked, pointing across the empty track.
Bill glanced towards the backstretch, where there seemed to be a raucous party brewing. Lots of bear-shifters were gadding about, playing and shouting without any cares. To look at them, you’d never know they were in charge of track security.
Coyotes and bears never did get along too well. To be fair, coyotes didn’t get along too well with anyone, even other coyotes. But theseparticularbearsparticularlyannoyed the shit out of Bill. The grizzly-shifters were notorious around Red River Valley for being loud, aggressive idiots,particularlyaround women.
That just wasn’t gonna work for Bill.
“Those fellas are doin’somethingover there. I doubt it qualifies as a ‘picnic’ though, unless they’ve taken to carrying their whiskey bottles in baskets.” He sent her a meaningful look. “Stay away from them, okay?”
“Of course. I don’t care for whiskey.” She watched a man with a battered, caved-in fedora go by. “Idolike hats, though. Everyone here is wearing one. Even the bears have those trapper hats on. Maybe I should get one. They’re very fashionable.”
“Wool’s usually a mistake for desert-wear, if you want my opinion. But you’d look like an angel, even in fuzzy earflaps. Gazing at you is always more inspiring than two rainbows at sunset.”
She glanced up at him, her cheeks flushing pink. “Is that a real cowboy saying or did you just make it up?”
“Itbecomesa real cowboy saying, as soon as I say it. Privilege of being a real cowboy.”
That made her laugh.
Why, dating his wifewasfun!
“I think I’ll pass on the trapper hat fad.” Something seemed to suddenly occur to her. “Hey, do you remember Big Hat Malloy? He asked me out a few times in the spring?”
