Chapter 16

It was a weird sensation feeling her shorts leave her body without a single touch. She managed to take one foot out of them before doing the other, letting them drop to the kitchen floor along with her bra. Now she was just in the purple boycut lace panties that showed half her backside, the rest covered in the material. Brooklynn resumed her task, moving to the beat of the song by shaking her backside, keeping her back to him since she had to finish the scrapping.

"You know, it's not fair that I'm practically naked and you're still fully clothed. I think you need to lose some clothes too, Mark."

"Nope." There was a crack as he opened a can of ice cold beer, now leaning against the counter and just enjoyed the show. "Back to work, wench." Mark was waiting on the quick-drying seal he had put down, where the counter piece would go, to dry, waterproofing it. "I think this works well for us both."

How anyone could dance to George Strait like that was beyond him, but he was going to remember it the next time he heard this song. Mark would always have the visuals of her shaking her pert backside to this and smirked, taking a long pull from his drink. It was 5 o'clock somewhere for sure. Brooklynn laughed, rolling her eyes and proceeded to finish up the scrapping job, finally stepping off the ladder to set the tool down. She walked over, admiring the new countertop and smiled, sliding her hand beneath his beater to caress his back.

"Looking good." Gliding her hand against the surprisingly smooth surface, she was happy with the outcome and knew they'd probably end up painting tomorrow. "How about a break and I'll make us some lunch, hmm?"

"Only if you're staying this way." Nearly nude, making lunch, that was every caveman's dream and he was no exception. Starving…Yes, Mark was, his eyes blanking for a moment before his grin hitched back into place. "You do that, wench, and I'll go grab the Shop Vac." Start clearing up some of the mess and get the dust and sand off the areas that would need repainting.

She shook her backside back at him teasingly and giggled at his growl, pulling out the bread, ham, mayonnaise, tomatoes and lettuce, knowing he'd want all the fixings and trimmings. She heard the shop vacuum a few minutes later while finishing up his sandwich, stacking it to his liking and then proceeded to make hers, which was simple mayonnaise, ham, lettuce and cheese. Once he finished vacuuming up everything, she lead the way out of the kitchen to the living room and sat down, handing him his plate. Brooklynn added chips to chomp on with the sandwich and had grabbed Mark another beer while she stuck with lemonade.

If he was more of a jerk, Mark would have gotten out his ridiculously overpriced and over-apped cell phone and tried navigating to the camera to take a picture. Panties and nothing else, eating. Claira would have a cow if she knew and he smirked.

Why wasn't either of them wearing a ring? He felt like he was playing catch up and blanking in and out as all the years hit him, forcing him to review all these memories and he wasn't totally amused. His Familiar was dead…

"Wanna run to Mexico and get hitched, darlin'?"

Brooklynn did NOT expect that to come out of his mouth and spewed out her drink of lemonade, coughing violently. She barely managed to set the drink down on the coffee table and patted her chest a couple times, covering her mouth with her hand. "W-What?!" She stammered out, coughing more since the lemonade had gone down the wrong pipe and saw the amusement in his eyes.

Seventeen years…17 years and not once did this man mention marriage. They never discussed it because it was never brought up. Both were content with the way things were, despite their friends lecturing them about getting married. Now suddenly, here he was bringing it up out of nowhere with her half naked.

"Ha-ha, very funny, jackass." She grunted, tightening her hair on her head and went back to eating.

She was sitting there, lemonade and her spit all down her bare chest and their floor, calling him a jackass and he had been serious! "I was being serious, darlin'." His tone conveyed that as he contemplated her, his sandwich still on his plate. "It's just a few hour drive; we could call Claira off for tomorrow and take her, spend the night down that way." Or, they could ask Trish to come spend the night with Claira.

Now her heart was pounding furiously in her chest and Brooklynn had to learn how to breathe again, or maybe she was having a panic attack. Where was this coming from? "You never…you never once brought up marriage to me…and it's been 17 years, Mark." Her voice was carefully neutral and calm, knowing lashing out was not the way to deal with this. "So why now? Why after all this time are you asking me to marry you?" Brooklynn was genuinely confused and wanted to know what was going through his mind, taking his hand to let him know she wasn't upset, just very perplexed.

"I don't know, it just popped in my head." He said honestly, picking up his sandwich to take a bite, shrugging. "I was looking at you, seen your hand and…" Mark was never good with words, actions were more his style. "We've been together for a long ass time, darlin'. Common law says we're already married here in Texas, you know that? Why not make it official?"

"Seventeen years, yes I know, and I didn't think you ever wanted to get married."

This was strange, the idea of marriage being brought up after so many years of the subject never ONCE surfacing. Was this because of Bastet's death? Something had to bring this on or trigger in his brain since he'd seen her hands thousands of times without a ring on it.

"Glenn hasn't been…hounding you about getting married again, has he? Or Steve?" Those two were sometimes relentless when it came to the subject of marriage with Mark. Glenn was a huge family man and believed Mark should've married Brooklynn years ago.

"Glenn hasn't said a word in years," Mark said thoughtfully, though a wicked smirk curved his lips. Glenn had the most shitty ability in history, ever. He got headaches whenever something supernatural AND bad popped up, headaches that left him nearly crippled. So, being the bastard that he was, Mark had used that to shut his friend up on the topic for good. Unless Glenn someday got froggy again, which he highly doubted.

"I think losing Bastet, darlin'… I never thought I'd lose her, and I've never thought I'd lose you, but… her dying…" Obviously, things happened, things he didn't think possible and Mark realized that he was… he was afraid of losing Brooklynn too.

Bastet's death had really put a lot into perspective for Mark, or so it seemed. She smiled sadly at the mention of the cat and scooted closer to him, sitting on her knees on the couch now, caressing his face with her hand. "You're never gonna lose me. I'm here and I'm not going anywhere." Fate willing, she added in thought, softly kissing him. "I don't wanna go down to Mexico to get married. That doesn't sound appealing to me. I'd rather go to Vegas or somewhere in the states, even right here in Houston." There was no way they would have an actual wedding ceremony. They'd been together far too long to have one, so going to the courthouse or a wedding chapel was the way to go. "Let's do it, let's get hitched."

"Wait, you don't want to get hitched on a sunny beach and then drink real tequila?" A drive-through chapel in Vegas was…Tacky as fuck. "Not Vegas, that's… not happening." He said firmly, though Mark also knew a courthouse here in Houston would mean a 72 hour wait time. "We can go apply today and get married next week here." No. Now.

"Wait, they can do that in Mexico? We can get married on a sunny beach there?" At his nod, Brooklynn smiled at the thought and wondered if Trish would watch Claira for them. Then again, she was 16-years-old and responsible, for the most part, just somewhat messy. "Okay, you win. Let's go to Mexico. And I think this is the perfect time to see if Claira can handle being home alone while we're gone." They'd been trying to find ways to see if Claira could handle responsibility and, for the most part, she aced the tasks, except her bathroom. "She's 16 now, I think she'd be okay staying home by herself for a couple days unless she does want to come with us." That was highly doubtful. "How far away is Mexico from here and do you have a spot in mind on where to get married? Or are we winging it?"

"Mmm, 13 hours, we leave now, and we can come back Monday." That'd mean Claira would have 4 nights by her lonesome since it was Thursday. "I don't think Trish and Steve would mind popping in to check on her if they needed too." It would be the perfect time to see how Claira would do. They could check in via cell; Trish could pop in for a surprise visit and it'd be fine. "You want too, darlin'?" He grinned at her, feeling some of the gloom, he had felt since Bastet died, lifting.

She would be Mrs. Calaway, after 17 years, and Brooklynn felt something stir inside of her, a warmth that almost felt like liquid fire. "Well yeah! Like I wouldn't want to marry you? Been with you too long not to make things official." Swinging her leg over to drop down on his lap, she kissed him passionately and hugged him around the neck, breathing him in. "I love you, every piece of you." Pulling back, she hopped up from his lap and knew packing had to commence before they could leave along with telling Claira what was going on. "Finish eating and then meet me upstairs to pack. I'll text Claira and let her know what's going on and then call Trish to make sure she'll check in."

Packing… and since it would be just the two of them… they were taking one of his Titans. Traveling that way had sort of stopped when Claira had come along, unless it was just him going to work. Mark packed what he needed and would fit in a saddlebag before grabbing a handful of cash, counting out what he assumed would be way more than enough for Claira for her extended solo weekend. She had her own house keys, she knew how to operate their security system, and this was a pretty safe area of Dallas, so… yeah, things would be fine.

Since this was spare of the moment, Brooklynn packed a couple outfits, swimsuit, undergarments, socks, shoes and toiletries all in one bag. Mark could strap it to the back of his Titan, which she was looking forward to riding. It'd been a while since they took a trip together, just the two of them, and she felt excitement oozing out of her pores. Brooklynn couldn't wipe the smile from her face, looking down at her left hand and wondered if Mark had a ring for her. He wouldn't have asked unless he had one, right? How long had he been wanting to ask her? Chewing her bottom lip, she changed into a red tank top and blue jeans, bringing a sweatshirt just in case it got chilly. It wasn't summer yet, but Mexico was rarely cold. Walking out in riding boots, a gift from Mark one Christmas years ago, Brooklynn handed him the bag.

"Trish said she doesn't mind checking in, congratulated us on finally getting our heads out of our asses and made me promise they could throw us a reception when we get back."

"You were lying when you said yes, right?" You don't have a ring, you complete imbecile. Fuck, he didn't. Tattoos are permanent… This was true, and Mark had to wonder how Brooklynn would react to that. At the very least, she was going to want a proper wedding band and he inwardly groaned. His head had been all over the place lately, it seemed.

"No, they're gonna want to celebrate with us since it took so long for us to tie the knot. A celebration with our friends sounds like fun to me. Getting the old gang back together again for something other than supernatural bullshit." Brooklynn didn't seem fazed, seeing the apprehension in his eyes and placed a hand on his arm, tilting her head slightly. "Everything okay? You look…troubled."

"I'm fine, darlin', just not looking forward to hearing Glenn's 'told ya so' shit." He chuckled, shaking his head down at her. "Thank Ra next week is Spring Break, huh?" Knowing Trish, she'd have the entire gang in sometime next week. Jesus that'd be a trip and a half. "You text Claira and let her know what's going on?" He felt mildly bad, wondering if Claira would have wanted to come. This was a pretty big moment.

Her parents, leaving her alone for 4 days? YES PLEASE!

"We're going to D.C. for Spring Break, remember? So more than likely, Trish will get with Melina and see if we can just have the reception at their place." Their kitchen would not be ready in time either, not with this impromptu trip to get married and then Spring Break next week. "Oh, I did tell Claira she could have Seth over if she wants, but NO hanky-panky. She agreed and promised they'd just watch movies and stay out of the bedrooms. You okay with that?" At his nod, Brooklynn frowned, seeing Mark was still distracted about something. Whatever it was, she hoped he came clean about it to her sooner or later. "Ready to get this show on the road?"

So, our daughter is going to be left alone, for 4 days, and be allowed to have a boy over. Please tell me, we're not dumb enough to believe there will be no… 'hanky-panky'? Mark really hoped Claira and Seth both knew to at least use protection. Idly, he wondered if Brooklynn had given Claira the 'talk' yet. "Come on, darlin'." Before he changed his mind and made their daughter go with them.

Hopping on the back of the Titan, Brooklynn looked back at the house and could only pray it was in one piece when they returned. The moment they were on the road and Mark really opened up the motorcycle, all doubts flew out of her mind. She knew Claira was a virgin because she had talked to her about Seth and boys in general. She was 10-years-old when they had the birds and bees talk, which had been awkward as hell, but Claira understood the consequences of having sex. If she wanted to do it, protection always. They couldn't stop it from happening because she was 16-years-old, thought she was in love and Seth was a 16-year-old boy with raging hormones. If they did it anywhere in the house and didn't clean up after themselves, Brooklynn would make them BOTH regret it. The wind whipping through her hair made her cling to Mark, her hands resting on his chest and her cheek against his back, enjoying the scenery flying by them.

Claira might've been a virgin, but Mark had a feeling Seth would be trying to rectify that situation. If it had been him, and it had back when he had been that age, he knew he would've. Parent-free house for that long? That was manna from heaven to horny kids. Of course, he'd kill Seth if he found out his daughter was anything but pure and pristine when he returned. We'll bury him in the ground up to his head and then blowtorch his face until he dies. Exactly.