AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Rip was surprised when Mabel looked at him, as though checking what his plans were before making her own.
“Not for me,” he said. “Never drink on a school night.”
Mabel’s mouth twitched for a moment, as though she was trying to decide what to say. “I… No thanks. I’ll leave it. Not been paid yet anyway.”
“I’ll buy you a drink, Mabel!” called one of the Littles. Ah. It was the thumb-sucker. Also a little suck-up, it seemed.
“Me too! Me too!” shouted another excitedly.
Rip noticed that not one of the Littles offered to buyhima drink.
“Okay, okay,” Mabel said with a smile. “I’ll meet you there. Just gotta change out of these dirty clothes.”
As the cast and crew all filed off the set, Mabel looked at Rip again. He didn’t know why, but it sent shivers down his spine.
“Rip,” she said, as she removed her protective jacket. “I’d like to apologize. I shouldn’t have been so rude to you earlier. I know you were trying to help.”
“I get it,” said Rip. “It was some kind of defense mechanism. You don’t like anyone to see that you have a soft side.”
“A soft side?” huffed Mabel, that ferocious expression returning to her eyes in an instant, like a flame on touch-paper.
“Yeah,” said Rip, holding her gaze. “Nothing wrong with being vulnerable you know, babygirl.”
Had he gone too far? Using that name for her? He’d never called anyonebabygirlbefore. Just… felt right with her. Or maybe it didn’t. Maybe it was a test. A way of coaxing out that soft side. Or of seeing if it would provoke more prickles, more defenses.
Mabel screwed up her nose. “I’m not your babygirl,” she said, walking toward the dressing room trailer, and swiping one of the fake wooden guns they used for practice runs off the weapons table.
“Hey,” said Rip. “Leave that there. That’s Brandon Marshall’s property.”
Mabel shrugged. “Brandon Marshall can go swivel.”
“I’m not joking around, Mabel,” said Rip, his voice deepening as he followed her, quickening his pace. “You don’t play around with weapons, even pretend ones.
Mabel stopped and turned around. “I played around just fine with those water pistols yesterday.”
“Those were different,” said Rip. “Those were actual toys. These are replicas of real weapons.”
Mabel pointed the gun at him. “Bang.”
Rip felt the annoyance swell inside him. “Not funny,” he said through clenched teeth. “Seriously. Not even for a joke.” He reached out for the gun, trying to yank it from Mabel’s grasp, but she wouldn’t let go. “Give it to me.”
Mabel grinned. “No. Shooty gun mine.”
Well, that was new. Mabel hadn’t done baby-talk with him before.
“Actually, it’s mine,” said Rip, holding firmly onto Mabel’s wrist, then pulling her free arm behind her back and taking the gun from her.
“Hey,” said Mabel. “No fair. You’re bigger than me.”
Rip didn’t know why, but he was pointing the wooden gun at her now, as though it were real. He wasn’t trying to intimidate her, it just kind of felt as though they were playing out a scene.
“What you gonna do to me, Big Guy?” asked Mabel. “Blow my brains out with a wooden toy?”
Rip had been pushed hard in his time. He’d been prodded and poked and driven to the very edge of his limits. But Mabel was something else. The palm of his hand felt red hot, tingling with a desperate urge to smack that bratty little bottom of hers and show her what’s what.
Then, without even knowing his mouth was about to say it, the words just kinda fell out.
“Not gonna blow your brains out, babygirl. Not yet, anyway. First, I’m gonna spank your ass.”
