Snake Charmer (Rawkfist MC Book 2) (15 page)

“What are you doing?” I ask.

My sister stops attempting and failing
to braid Matilda’s brown hair.

“Matilda loves when I play with her
hair. She just wants love. I could use her as a tissue, and she’d be happy to
have me notice her. She’s a love bug.”

“If that’s what you want to call it.”

Justice cuddles Matilda tighter.
“She’ll be in kindergarten next year. Soon, she’ll make friends and no longer
be at my beck and call.”

“You’ll have a baby soon. No worries.”

“No. I want to wait. Right now, my baby
is Matilda, and she goes to bed by ten. That’s a few hours a night for me and
Court to play.”

“Where is Court?”

“I don’t know.”

“I wanted to ask you to ask him to do
me a favor, but I’ll just ask him myself.”

When I walk away, Justice jumps up to
hurry after me with Matilda.

“I want to help,” she says. “I need a
reason to exist. You know besides being a mother, working at the store, and
serving Court’s every desire.”

“I’m good. Thanks.”

Justice doesn’t give up and nearly
bumps into me when I spot Court at the side of their house. He’s shirtless and
holding an ax.

“Do you know what I’m thinking?” I ask.

Justice smiles at the sight of her
sweaty husband. “He’s super hot, and I’m super lucky?”

“No, more like he reminds me of the dad
in
Amityville Horror
before he went nuts.”

“Oh, and that father in
The Witch
chopped a lot of wood too. My poor crazy Court.”

“What’s up?” he asks, wiping sweat from
his neck and giving his woman quite the show.

“So super lucky,” Justice whispers
while now holding Matilda.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“Chopping wood.”

“Why? We don’t have fireplaces.”

“No, but Shelly Harper does. Her
husband passed away, and she can’t afford to buy wood.”

“You’re such a pathetic wuss. Every old
chick in town knows how to play your heartstrings,” I tease.

Court ignores my comment and his wife’s
drooling. “Did you want something?”

“I need a favor.”

“Well, I guess I’ll just drop
everything and get right on that.”

“Like I said, you’re a wuss. Stand up
for yourself, man.”

“Fine. I’m not helping you.”

Smiling at his manly attempt, I poke
him in the arm. “There you go. I’m proud of you. Now help me anyway because you
care about Donovan, and he needs your wise manly assistance.”

“He is so manly,” Justice whispers
right against my ear.

“Stop breathing on me.”

“What does Donovan need?” Court asks,
attempting to keep us on topic.

“Guidance,” I say, pushing Justice off
of me and walking closer to the man with the ax. “You have issues like him.
Your mom died, and your dad wasn’t around, and you were alone, and you turned
out well enough to win over Justice, who I admit didn’t need much convincing.”

“Well, he is very manly.”

Court smiles at his wife, and I suspect
I’ll end up babysitting Matilda and Felix while these two are joined in
hip-thrusting matrimony.

“I don’t get it.”

“Donovan is hot and cold. I think he
wants to bail, but I don’t know. If he wanted to dump me, he might be afraid
I’d freak out on him. Violence and mayhem might break out, and I’ve made a lot
of threats about turning him into cat food.”

“So you want me to find out if he’s
looking to run?”

“Yes. I’m getting a lot of mixed
signals, and it’s making me crazy.” When Court only stares at me with a weird
frown, I ask, “What?”

“I’ve never seen you so melodramatic.
It’s a little unnerving.”

Justice wraps her arm through mine.
“She’s never been so feminine.”

I glare at her and then sigh loudly.
“If you do this for me, I’ll watch the kids so you two can clean the sweat off
Court.”

“You had me at sexy husband.”

“What?”

“Nothing. Matilda, go with Auntie
Journey,” Justice says, handing the girl to me. “She’ll give you cookies.”

“Or carrot sticks.”

Justice looks ready to take back the
little girl. Then Court sets down the ax. Once she spots his sweaty chest, my
sister decides her kid can survive vegetables.

“Thank you, Court,” I say before they
disappear into the house. “Whatever he says, give it to me straight.”

Court wants to reassure me. He’s a nice
guy that way, but Justice is attached to his thigh and tugging him inside.
Finally, he gives me a thumbs-up before shutting the door.

“Matilda, let’s go inside and figure
out your hair.”

The little girl is so passive that I
sometimes forget she’s not a life-sized doll. Does she look at the rest of us
and wonder who spiked our drinks to make us so lively? Can she survive a world
where everyone has an opinion, and she only has silence? I don’t know the
answer, but my big mouth certainly hasn’t made my romantic life any easier.

Donovan

N
o one visits my house except Journey
and Court. People know a cop lives here, so even Girl Scouts selling cookies
and sales people pimping free carpet cleaning stay away.

Since Journey took my keys and made a
spare, I know a knock on the door is Court. He’s likely sporting beer and food
in the hopes of bribing his way into the house.

I open the door to find him eyeballing
a neighbor mowing their lawn. The guy he’s glaring at hurries away.

“Scaring soccer dads. Nice,” I say,
holding the door to prevent him from walking inside. “What did you bring?”

“Beer and hot wings.”

“You may enter.”

Court strolls into the house, says a
quick hello to a curious Kitty, and then drops the food on the counter. He pops
open a beer.

“How are things with Journey?” Court
asks, not wasting time.

“Are you asking for you or her?”

“Both.”

“Things are good.”

“She doesn’t get that.”

Exhaling hard, I ask, “Why would she
send you?”

“She’s probably scared of where this
conversation could end up.”

“Yeah, I can see that. I get to
sometimes wondering if she’ll bail, but I don’t ask. If she said yes, I
wouldn’t know what to do besides handcuff her again. She got pretty PO’d last
time I did that.”

“Handcuffing Journey Sheerer and living
to tell the tale,” he says, chuckling and likely wanting to share with Justice
immediately. “Damn, she must be into you.”

“I’d hope so.”

Court leans in and studies my face.
“She’s not wrong about you being a hard man to read.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“You can be square with me. If you want
out with Journey, I’ll help you.”

“That’s the last thing I want,” I
nearly growl.

“Okay, so could you emote a bit more?”

“Emote?”

“Be more fucking obvious about your
feelings. You’ve met Journey’s family. They don’t hide their feelings. They’re
animated. She looks at you with your stony face and unreadable eyes and thinks
you’re unhappy. That’s how people in her family act when they’re miserable, and
they’re rarely miserable. She doesn’t know what to think.”

Scratching at my chin, I bet Journey
turning to Court for help killed her a little inside. She wants to be a tough
chick and the person others turn to for help.

“What did you do to make sure Justice
knew you wanted her?”

“I followed her around like a puppy dog
and humped her leg whenever I got the chance.”

Grinning, I grab a beer and drink half
of it. Journey’s face is sketched in my thoughts. I see her everywhere. Want
her every second of the day. Still, she can’t feel what I feel. She doesn’t
know what I know. I knew she was on edge even after we said our “I love you.”

“The thing is…” I pause and give Court
a dark stare. “I need this to stay between us. No whispering my secrets to your
woman in bed at night.”

“She’s so busy saying how sexy I am
that I doubt Justice would hear me.”

“You have a strange relationship.”

“Doesn’t Journey compliment you?”

“Sure, but she isn’t obnoxious about
it.”

“Maybe we should go on a double date,
so you could see how normal people behave.”

Throwing my head back, I laugh for
probably too long. This guy is living in a newlywed fantasy.

“Clueless fucker. There’s no way you
and Justice are normal. Even I know that.”

“We’re happy. Can’t deny that.”

“Journey and I are happy too,” I say,
shrugging. “We just don’t know it.”

“So what was that thing you didn’t want
me telling Justice?”

“See, about that. Yeah,” I say before
downing the rest of the beer. “I don’t know if I’m the guy for Journey long
term. Even admitting that, I don’t want her leaving me. I want to keep her for
as long as I can without actually keeping her chained up somewhere. I figure
that might be taking things too far.”

I imagine Journey tied to my bed. While
a sexy thought, I can also imagine her trying to kill me every time I got close
enough. Even with the danger, she’d be mine, and no other man could have her.
There was something downright heavenly about that thought.

“Why wouldn’t you be that guy?”

“She wants all that typical woman stuff
like kids and family get-togethers. I can keep up the image of a normal guy
when I’m at work, but I come home and just turn things off. That’s not working
for Journey. How can we make it work long term?”

“You could change.”

“How?”

“Just be more open. Go through the
motions when need be. There are times when I’m at the clubhouse, and the guys
are all telling stories about shit that happened before I was born. I nod and
laugh as if I feel like I’m one of them. Sometimes, I do the same thing when Justice
and her family are goofing off. I don’t know what in the hell they’re talking
about since I haven’t memorized every episode of
South Park
.”

“And it doesn’t feel like a lie?”

“I guess it does a little, but I don’t
give a shit. It’s what I have to do to be part of something.”

“I fake it when I’m at work, and I
don’t want to feel the same way with Journey.”

“Well, something’s got to give if you
want to keep her.”

Leaning against the kitchen counter, I
cross my arms. “I’ve been assuming the answers would be obvious over time, but
nothing ever is.”

“Look we both know you had a shit mom.
You had a no-show dad and a family that never wanted you around. You got along
just fine by being you, but now you’ve got to be more to make sure Journey
knows she matters. She isn’t a frilly chick, but you need to do something
before it’s too late.”

“Can we stop talking about this shit?”

“Feelings are icky, I know,” he says,
taking a plate of food and a beer before heading to the back deck.

We eat silently for the most part. When
conversation feels necessary, he talks about Felix and Matilda. I share
pointless chatter about Kitty who gnaws on one of my bones. What we don’t say
is I’m losing my one shot at happiness.

Journey

S
omething has gone tragically wrong at
our house. We have three decent, adult role models, and also Justice. Instead,
the kids have chosen to emulate Poppy.

My sister is loyal to her friends and
gentle to the pets, yet she has never seen a minor nuisance she couldn’t whine
into an epic meltdown. Poppy simply loves noise and drama. She feeds off the
crazy, and now the kids are looking to her for hints on how to handle
situations.

So when a car turns onto our long
driveway, Poppy reacts as if we’re under attack. Soon, Hal is barking, and the
kids stare terrified through the blinds at the oncoming threat.

“Could be a salesperson,” Poppy
explains when I frown at her overreaction.

“So?”

“Those people can’t be trusted. Always
up to no good, I tell ya.”

“I can’t tell if you sound more like
our witch grandmother or our hermit grandfather.”

“How do you know they don’t sound like
me?”

Rolling my eyes, I step onto the porch
and smile at Donovan parking next to my SUV. He grins back as if his
unannounced appearance at my house isn’t a big damn deal. Our encounters lately
are like presidential events with tons of planning and scheduling and often
rescheduling. We are not impromptu people.

“I brought you flowers,” Donovan says,
climbing out of the Jeep and shaking out his long, brawny limbs as if he’s been
driving for hours.

I take the bouquet, admiring flowers I
can’t identify. “What’s the occasion?”

“I was thinking about you and figured
you might like them.”

“You were, huh?” I ask, suspicious.
“What exactly were you thinking about me?”

“That you’re great,” he says tapering
off when he spots the faces staring at him from the windows. “We have an
audience.”

“My family is very close. If you think
today is bad, you should see our pap smear appointments.”

Donovan smiles, but the humor doesn’t
reach his eyes. He feels on the spot. When he visited me at work, Donovan
ignored the staring. For whatever reason, he’s bothered by being on display
today.

“They’re harmless,” I say, trying not
to mock his uneasiness at having a few kids and one annoying teenager watch us.

“I know,” he mutters and then says
again, “I know. I’m just tired from working so much.”

“They take advantage of your family
name.”

“I know.”

“You know a lot of things, copper. Do
you happen to know why you’re here besides to give me these flowers and a quick
kiss?”

“I wanted to see you.”

“Here I am,” I say, placing the flowers
on the hood of his Jeep before wrapping my arms around his waist. “I miss how
solid you feel. Also, how your muscles flex under my fingers.”

Donovan finally stops paying attention
to the eyes gawking at him and focuses on my heated words.

“Is it time to do the family deal?” he
asks.

“Your question can’t compute when my
brain overheats from my scorching panties.”

Donovan finally smiles for real. He
studies my face and leans down for a kiss. Audience or not, he kisses me
something fierce until Poppy’s voice booms from the house.

“Knock off that indecent behavior in
front of the children or I’ll get the hose!” she squawks.

I peel myself off of Donovan and give
her the evil eye. She disappears behind the blinds, likely preparing to use the
smaller children as human shields.

“I meant we could do the family meet up
thing. You can meet the Mooneys, and I can spend time with your posse.”

“Why would we want to do that?”

“I wouldn’t mind my family knowing
you’re important to me. They might be less asshole-like when it comes to
scheduling shifts.”

“Oh, well, then I agree to endure your
law enforcement Rockwell family. You’ll need to agree to come here and eat
barbecued meat my mother didn’t cook. I promise you won’t die of food
poisoning. We don’t even let her near the Cole Slaw anymore.”

“My family’s having a party this
weekend. I have time off to go to it. We don’t have to go, but I’d like to show
you off.”

“Why wouldn’t you? I’m fricking fantastic.”

“Don’t be nervous,” he murmurs.

“Are you talking to yourself?”

Donovan laughs. “Maybe. I don’t do well
with my family, and your family is terrifying.”

“I’d say they didn’t bite, but I refuse
to promise good behavior from children I didn’t raise.”

“I bet you’ll be an excellent mother.”

“Of course, I will. I’ve been
practicing since Justice was born. Before you mention her shortcomings, I
didn’t raise her and take no blame for her oddities. Or hair choices.”

“I think her hair looks cute.”

“Cute?” I ask, annoyed by my man
complimenting anyone besides me.

“It’s a good look on a boy.”

Laughing, I glance around in fear that
Justice will somehow hear his insult. My sister would make it her life’s
mission to torment Donovan. If this poor guy can’t handle my mood shifts, he’ll
drown under the wild currents of Justice’s temper.