Swamp Happens: The Complete Swamp Bottom Series

by Cora Kenborn

  I snorted and let my head roll to the side, staring out the window and counting the passing streetlights. “I call bullshit.”

  Addie sputtered next to me. I knew that sound well. Her brain was short circuiting, and she was about to blow in three…two… one…

  “Bullshit? On what? How can you even say that?”

  I sighed heavily. Maybe it was the booze still burning the back of my throat and warming my belly, or maybe I was just sick and tired of listening to the same damn shit. Either way, I was done playing nice. Time for some tough love.

  “You’re in love with Zep. You have been since high school. He hurt you, so you ran away into the arms of the douche who shall not be named, arguably the biggest mistake of your life and you know it. Don’t worry, sis, we all get one of those. The thing is, you’ve settled the history you have with Zep, and you did it a long time ago. Now you’re just punishing him for the shit that pencil-dick put you through, and that’s not fair. It’s true, a lot has gone on since we came home, but we’ve settled, Ads. The only thing in shambles now is your head.”

  Addie’s lips pursed into a sour expression that did nothing for her. I should’ve probably let her know, but I sensed she might not be able to handle that much truth at the moment. “It’s easy to point fingers from the other side. If you were in my shoes, you’d be losing your shit.”

  “Nope,” I replied, popping the ‘p’ loudly. My lips were numb and felt funny when I did it, so I did it again. Damn, that was some good vodka, I made a mental note to ask Babs where she’d picked it up. Although, I’d have to be careful not to let her know I’d swiped the bottle from her knitting basket the last time I visited. The old woman took her alcohol seriously. I wouldn’t be surprised if she tried to cut off my hand for stealing.

  “No?” Addie screeched beside me.

  I turned to look at her, suddenly remembering we were in the middle of a conversation. Her mouth hung open in shock.

  “Careful, you’ll catch birds,” I chastised. Between my new affinity for vodka and jacked up figures of speech, I was starting to think I was turning into Babs.

  I could do worse.

  “So you’re telling me if you found out you were pregnant, you wouldn’t be freaking the fuck out?”

  I shrugged and ran a hand through my hair. “I’d be surprised, but no, I wouldn’t go crazy and push Pope away. He’d be a great dad.”

  Addie shook her head slowly. “Sometimes I wonder how you two ended up together. You’re polar opposites.”

  I waved a hand in her direction. “You’re one to talk. It was simple with Pope. As soon as I met him, I knew I wanted him, and that was that.”

  “But why? I mean, he’s a cop, and you haven’t always been the most law-abiding citizen. In fact, when you met Pope, you’d just stolen a van and a pig.”

  I slapped my hand on the dashboard, making her jump. “Exactly! I’d been saying ‘fuck the police’ for years, so when the opportunity presented itself to literally fuck the police, I couldn’t, in good conscience, let it slip by, now could I?”

  Addie groaned and scrubbed a hand down her face. “Jesus Christ, you’re insane.”

  “Probably true, but enough about my crazy. We need to talk about yours. It’s time to pull it together and answer the only question that really matters.”

  I could practically feel the screeching from the gears in her head. “And what is that?”

  “Who is it that you don’t trust? Zep or yourself?”

  Eat shit, Dr. Phil. Savvy’s got this on lockdown.

  I really should get drunk before giving advice more often. I was damn good at it.

  Addie didn’t respond to my question, but she didn’t have to. The seed had been planted, and there was enough bullshit flying around in her skull to fertilize a damn redwood. Content that my work was done, I relaxed into the worn seat, kicked off my boots, and propped my bare feet on the dash, settling in for the ride.

  A choking noise came from deep in Addie’s throat, and the truck swerved as she frantically cranked the handle to roll down the window. My head lulled to the side, and a giggle bubbled up in my chest as I watched my sister stick her head out the open window, gasping for air. She looked like a cartoon character with her eyes bulging and her mouth opening and closing like a guppy. By the time the gagging noises stopped, I was in the middle of a full-on drunk belly laugh.

  “You’re fucking disgusting. It smells like something died in here.”

  “Well, they are made from leather,” I managed to choke out through a fit of giggles. I had to admit, she wasn’t wrong. They were pretty ripe. In my defense, I’d run out of clean socks that morning, and Addie had taken to locking her bedroom door since the infamous phone sex incident, so I couldn’t borrow a pair from her. The way I saw it, my stinky feet were her fault.

  Addie practically shoved me out of the truck as soon as she pulled up to the curb in front of Pope’s house. “Get your nasty ass out of here. Go stink up Pope’s place.”

  I stumbled out of the cab, gripping the door to steady myself for a moment before slamming it closed.

  “Think about what I said,” I slurred, pointing a wobbly finger at her face.

  She flipped me off and hit the gas, barreling down the road. If the truck hadn’t been a rusted pile of junk, the tires might have screeched as she peeled away. Instead, it just chugged along, a bloom of smoke trailing in its wake.

  I stumbled up the walkway towards the front door, my boots tucked under one arm and my free hand buried deep in my bag searching the bottomless pit for my keys. Pope had given me a key to his house a few months ago. He’d been on a two week stretch of night shifts, and after four days of being on opposite schedules, he’d dropped a key off at the office, demanding that I be naked and waiting for him in his bed when he got home the next morning. I’d been happy to oblige, but he was shit out of luck if he ever thought he was getting the key back. It may not have been intended to be a giant leap in our relationship, but I ran with it and wasn’t looking back.

  Preoccupied with my quest for the golden key, I hadn’t noticed I’d been drifting to the side until I stepped off the raised walkway and tumbled into the ground. My reaction time left something to be desired, and since my hands were otherwise preoccupied, I wound up with a mouth full of grass.

  Managing to sit up, I blew a raspberry in an effort to spit out the foliage I’d been chewing on. It didn’t work. I clawed at the stray blades stuck to my tongue, but my mouth still tasted like dirt. The contents of my purse were now splayed out in front of me, and my eye fell on the clear glass bottle glinting in the moonlight.

  Bingo.

  I snatched up the bottle of vodka and took a long pull, swishing it around in my mouth before turning my head and spitting it out.

  “Classy, babe,” Pope’s deep voice called out.

  Turning my head, I caught sight of his large frame in the doorway, the light from inside the house creating a perfect silhouette. I squinted, trying to make out his handsome face and those dimples I loved so much. I had a sudden urge to stick the tip of my tongue in one of them and see if it made him giggle like the Pillsbury Dough Boy.

  “I fell down and ate grass,” I sighed, clutching the bottle to my chest. “Does that make me a cow?”

  Pope chuckled and pushed off the doorframe, coming toward me. “No babe, it just makes you clumsy.”

  I beamed up at him as he approached. He was a hell of a man, all sexy and sweet and growly sometimes. Fucking perfect. He scooped me up in his big arms, and the smell of squeaky clean soap enveloped me, so I snuggled into his hard chest. I could’ve fallen asleep all wrapped up in him, but he turned toward the house. “But my stuff is all out on the lawn still,” I slurred pointing over his shoulder.

  “I’ll get it once you’re tucked into bed.”

  “Mmmm, bed,” I mumbled, burying my face in his so-soft-it-should-be-illegal shirt.

  Seriously, how did guys get their clothes to that perfect worn point where t
he fabric is so thin and soft it feels feather light but still not falling apart? Kind of like how some guys have ridiculously long eyelashes every woman on the planet would kill for, and they just sit there, not using them at all.

  Such bullshit.

  Pope lay me gently on the bed and covered me with the blanket before kissing my forehead. I loved it when he did that. It made me feel safe—like a warm hug or vodka. I giggled because I remembered I still had the bottle of vodka tucked against my chest.

  Guess super-duper police man didn’t catch it.

  He grinned down at me and shook his head. “Jesus, you’re blitzed, aren’t you?”

  I smiled, nodding my head, a beautiful plan formulating in my mind. As he started to turn away, I reached out and grabbed his arm while simultaneously slithering off the bed and onto my knees in a move that my booze drowned brain told me was absolutely sexy.

  “Savannah, what are you—” Pope’s words cut off as soon as I reached for the button on his jeans.

  Locking eyes with him, I unzipped his fly and shimmied his pants down. I was pleasantly surprised to find him standing at attention for me.

  Hell yes.

  Normally, I’d take my time teasing him, but right then, I didn’t have the patience for it. Instead, I went for the kill, wrapping my lips tightly around the crown and sucking hard. I heard Pope’s quick intake of breath, and a surge of pure satisfaction raced through me.

  I set a good pace, alternating between pulling him in deep and swirling my tongue around the head. He was like a lollipop, and I wanted to know how many licks it’d take to get to the good stuff. A noise caught my attention, and I pulled away with a light popping noise as my lips lost suction.

  “What was that?” I asked, peering around him and into the darkness.

  “What? I didn’t hear anything,” he muttered.

  His hands were buried in my hair, and he gave me a light tug, guiding my mouth back to him. I complied without complaint, getting back down to business. At least until my leg started to fall asleep, which distracted me and made me lose my rhythm.

  Was it deep, twirl, twist, or twirl, twist, deep?

  I tried to get back to it, but I heard the noise again and pulled away.

  “Is there someone outside? My stuff is still outside. I hope no one is stealing my purse because I have like three joints in there.”

  “Did you smoke pot tonight too? Because you’re kind of paranoid.”

  “Nope, Addie wouldn’t let me because of her bean.”

  “I’m sorry, her bean?”

  Crappy McCrapperson, I can’t spill the beans about Addie’s bean.

  The thought made snort. “Um, yeah. Pot makes Addie horny, and she got into a fight with Zep, so she doesn’t want to be horny right now.”

  Fuck yeah, nice save.

  I was seriously on point tonight for a chick who drank her weight in eighty-proof. “You know, bean? Flick the bean? Her cli—”

  “Yep, I got it babe. No need to explain.”

  I peered up at him from my position on the floor. My knees had slid out from under me, and I was sitting on my butt, legs stretched straight out. From my vantage point, the head of Pope’s cock covered part of his face, and it made it look like he had a dick nose. The giggles I’d had in the truck came back full force, and I couldn’t hold them back.

  He sighed and ran a hand over his newly buzzed head. “As much as I appreciate the effort, having you laugh while my dick is an inch from your face isn’t really doing it for me.”

  “Nooooo! Let me finish,” I whined.

  Pope bent down and lifted me up to my feet. “Really, babe, it’s fine.”

  I sat down on the edge of the bed and crossed my arms, pouting. “Fine, if you’re not going to let me suck your dick then you have to make it up to me.”

  His head cocked to one side, and he studied me. “Not sure I quite follow your logic there, but what are you thinking?”

  I tapped a finger to my pursed lips as if I were thinking really hard. As if. I knew exactly what I wanted, but Pope didn’t need to know that. I wasn’t entirely sure why I needed to keep him in suspense, but my alcohol-flooded brain had decided it was necessary.

  “Tacos!” I yelled, throwing my hands up in the air and almost smacking my poor boyfriend in the face.

  “You want tacos?” he asked, his voice flat.

  Uh-oh, Mr. Grumpypants is in town.

  Clasping my hands and tucking them under my chin, I peered up at him, batting my eyelashes for dramatic effect. “Pleeeaaasseee?”

  Pope sighed, clearly a sign of defeat. “Why do I feel like I’m going to regret this?”

  “You’re the best!” I squealed, launching myself off the bed and into his arms. Wrapping my legs around his waist, I locked my ankles and hooked an arm around his neck. I pumped my free arm into the air and let out a whoop of victory. “Now take me to the place where they make the food. Your woman wants tacos.”

  “Uh, sweetheart, I kind of need pants to do that.”

  I had the best boyfriend on the planet. Pope had barely even grumbled when he tucked his still hard cock into his jeans and ambled out the door. I felt kind of bad that my surprise ninja blowjob didn’t work out, but we were on our way to get tacos, and tacos fixed everything. It was a scientific fact. At least in my mind it was…since I’d just made it up.

  Fuck, I’m super drunk.

  The thought made me want to giggle again, but if earlier events were any indication, giggling made Pope grumpy, so I managed to bury the urge. Pressing my forehead to the window, I stared out as we cruised down the road.

  House, house, garbage can, house, a homeless man, apartment, pretty car, house, Zep’s apartment, truck…

  “Stop the car!” I screamed at the top of my lungs.

  Pope’s eyes snapped to me, a look of sheer terror plastered across his face. “Shit, are you going to puke?”

  I ignored his question. “Pull over, pull over, pull over, now!”

  “Fuck, okay. Don’t puke in the car if you can help it.”

  As soon as Pope pulled off to the shoulder, I leaped from the car and ran.

  I heard the car door slam and the sound of heavy footfalls behind me. “Jesus Christ, Savannah! Where the hell are you going?”

  “I need to yell at Zep!” I called over my shoulder, which caused me to veer to the right and nearly run into a telephone pole. “Excuse me,” I muttered to the pole before correcting my trajectory.

  I was wheezing by the time I made it to Zep’s apartment, and my legs felt like Jell-O as I weakly pounded a fist against the door. “Open up you sack of shit. It’s the Po Po!” I panted.

  “Fucking hell, Savannah. You’re shitfaced. How the hell did you run that fast?” Pope asked as he came up behind me.

  I leaned against the door and turned to look at him, giving him what had to be a sloppy smile. “Got Babs in my veins,” I declared, patting the inside of my arm as if that were all the answer he needed.

  Pope opened his mouth to say something just as the door I’d been leaning on vanished. Well, it hadn’t actually vanished as much as opened, and since I was resting all my weight on it, I went with it.

  I groaned and blinked a few times, my eyes adjusting to the sudden bright light of the living room. The fog lifted, and I found myself staring up at a particularly perturbed looking Zep.

  A big tattooed hand came up to smooth down his beard. “Can’t even get one fucking night of peace.”

  Indignant rage boiled in my belly. Who the fuck did he think he was? My sister was probably crying herself to sleep, and he was pissy because I’d probably interrupted his episode of The Bachelor. Rolling onto my stomach, I pushed myself up shakily and got to my feet.

  I had to tilt my head up to lock eyes with the big bastard, but that didn’t deter me. He could be as big and burly and tattooed as he wanted; he didn’t scare me. Nope, I knew his mama, and if he did one thing to hurt me, she’d beat him with a broom.

  She really w
ould. I’d seen her do it.

  “You,” I growled, taking a step forward and getting right into his space. “You. Are. A. Coward.” I punctuated every word with a sharp jab to the center of his chest.

  Zep glowered down at me. “What the fuck are you going on about, Sav?”

  “You’re just going to give up on her like that? Stop being such a little pussy and go get your woman!”

  He blinked at me, finally realizing the purpose of my impromptu visit. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I’ve fucking tried. Addie keeps playing games, and I’m sick of it.”

  “She’s not playing games, you big buffoon. She’s scared!”

  Zep’s arms stretched out wide in exasperation. “Of what? Love?”

  I threw my hands up in the air and waved them around. “Ding, ding, ding! Winner, winner, chicken dinner! He’s finally fucking got it!”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Fucking idiot,” I muttered, rubbing at the headache that started to form between my eyes. “I see you took an extra shot of moron this morning, so I’ll spell it out for you. She never loved the fuck-face. Sure, she loved the idea of him, and the stability he could give her, but he never had her heart. For reasons that a lifetime of therapy couldn’t even begin to decipher, that soft squishy part of her has always belonged to you, and you fucking pulverized it thirteen years ago. And guess what fuckwad? It’s never healed. She wants to be with you, but she’s terrified to hand her heart back over to you because if she does and you screw her over again, there will be nothing left.”

  “I’m not the same dumbass I was in high school. I’d never do that to her now, and she knows it.”

  “Does she?”

  Zep threw his arms in the air and started to pace like a caged animal. “Yes, I’ve told her a hundred times!”

  Men were idiots. Truly, dogs were more emotionally in tune than men.

  “Words don’t mean shit, cocksipper. Actions do. Show her that you’ll fight for her. Show her that nothing she does is going to push you away. You fucked up. Now it’s up to you to prove you’re worth the chance. It’s not pretty, but it’s the truth.”