Swamp Happens: The Complete Swamp Bottom Series

by Cora Kenborn

  Her eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Are they still talking? I thought for sure she’d have dumped him by now.”

  “I guess opposites attract,” I answered with a shrug.

  Addie’s eyes flicked over to where Zep was perched on the arm of the couch, devouring half of an apple pie his mother had dropped off. She continued to pat Charlee’s red-velvet clad back, coaxing a burp out of her that would rival a grown man.

  “Hell yeah, that was a good one!” Zep exclaimed, pumping a fist in the air. He’d been getting excited at any and all bodily functions coming from his infant daughter as of late. Despite Addie’s protests, he was determined to raise a tomboy.

  Duck, who’d made his way through the living room and into the kitchen in search of a decent signal, came busting back in through the swinging saloon doors, laptop still in hand. “Is that nipple? Baby, I can’t tell if that’s nipple or not. I need to know what I’m looking at.” Stilted and garbled responses came from the computer as he ran back down the hallway, but none of it was clear enough to make out, which seemed to be for the best.

  Pope ran a hand over the top of his buzzed head. “I hope he didn’t contaminate the kitchen.”

  “Don’t worry, Babs has a strict no choking the chicken in the kitchen policy. Duck knows better than to break her rules,” Bam offered as he adjusted the shotgun shell wreath that had been knocked askew by Duck’s hurried escape.

  “She has a what?” Addie shrieked.

  I sat up on the couch, causing Kevin to snort in dissatisfaction and waved my hands in the air to stop the response braced on Bam-Bam’s lips. “No, no, no! We do not want or need to know why that rule was enacted. Some things are just better left unsaid.”

  Bam shrugged and collapsed on Babs’ recliner. “Suit yourself, but it’s a pretty funny story.”

  “I’d rather eat a box of thumbtacks,” Addie grumbled.

  “That was some bootleg bukkake bullshit,” Duck announced coming back into the room sans laptop and flopping himself onto the worn carpet. “I shouldn’t have to deal with buffering when I’m trying to have internet sex with my girlfriend.”

  “I’m pretty sure it’s called cyber se—” Zep started, but Addie smacked him upside the head before he could finish.

  Babs shuffled into the room and glared at Bam until he vacated her throne. “Enough talk of Duck Call whittling his wank. Is time to open socks!”

  “You mean stockings?” Addie asked as if we really needed confirmation. At this point in our lives, we were fluent in Russian, broken English, and drunk grandma. “Don’t you want to wait until tomorrow morning when Mama and Daddy are here?”

  Babs waved a dismissive hand in the air. “Bah! I run out of vodka. If I know granddaughters, you bring me vodka in sock like good girls.”

  She was right, of course, but our donation to the destroy-my-grandmother’s-liver fund had little to do with Christmas. Babs had issued a decree to the entire family. If anyone came to her house without at least a fifth of vodka, she’d sick Fluffy on them, family or not.

  Alongside the gator jerky Babs added to each of our stockings, Duck had slipped in a can of pork and beans and a can of root beer with a note that said “Have a root’n toot’n Krismas,” a joke that was lost on my sister for a full two minutes. The horrified look that contorted her features once she got the joke was enough for me to give Duck a well-deserved high five. Of course, doing so was ill-advised, seeing that Duck could take the smallest gesture and turn it into encouragement for his next genius idea.

  It was worth it.

  After a few hours of pass the bottle where we each proceeded to get shitfaced, we all settled down for the night. As usual, Babs would be the only one of us without a hangover in the morning, but it was worth it for those kinds of nights. The ones where the walls came down and no one was safe from being the butt of a joke, but it was okay because you knew how much everyone loved you regardless of the crap being shoveled your way.

  Of course, no Christmas Eve would be complete without the famous Dubois family tradition of Babs setting out a shot of vodka and a plate of pot brownies because in her words, “Santa like to party.”

  80

  Peace on Earth

  Adelaide

  Terrebonne Parish, Louisiana

  I woke up smiling.

  That alone should’ve been my first clue that something wasn’t right.

  After four weeks of sleep deprivation, I awoke sprawled out like a drunken starfish and grinning like the village idiot while face down in a puddle of drool. Not that smiling at dawn was necessarily a bad thing, but being at a tiny human’s beck and call for the past month had caused permanent resting bitch face. Mama, as positive as ever, called it a badge of honor. Sav rolled her eyes and called it my “Fuck You Face”. Babs just adjusted her teeth every time I walked by and muttered something about dick lips.

  I assumed she meant duck lips, but as she was currently in a twenty-four-hour vodka binge, I had no interest in risking a chance of finding my own voodoo doll hanging from the tree.

  Yep, normal people hung ornaments from their trees. My grandmother hung replicated voodoo dolls of those she’d cursed over the years.

  But this smiling thing was new. I had no idea my lips remembered the motion, and I briefly wondered if I’d died in my sleep. Just to make sure, I lifted my head off the pillow and wiped the drool off my chin. Glancing across the bed where Zep lay, my smile widened in seeing the corners of his lips turned up into the same moronic grin as me. My brain still felt hazy, partially from all the vodka we’d sucked down last night, but mostly because it felt like I was missing a piece of vital information. Still, I didn’t fight too hard to figure it out.

  It wasn’t my brain that had assumed control of my body.

  To be fair, I dared any woman with eyes and a vagina to take a good look at Zephirin LeBlanc and not want to ride him like the Polar Express. Sleep had mussed up his hair just the way I liked it, all wild and unruly with huge chunks of the longer pieces in front falling across his forehead and dusting over his nose. The sheet had worked its way below his knees, showing he’d collapsed last night in a pair of tight red boxer briefs. I bit my lip, hiding a laugh at the memory of his ass swaying in his kitchen in those same boxers while I gawked at him from the hallway. It was the night of Mardi Gras when he’d taken me to his apartment to sleep off my Hurricane drunk fest.

  It was also the first time he kissed me in thirteen years, reigniting a flame that never died. Somehow, part of me knew that kiss was so much more than a just a kiss.

  Just as I reached out a hand to stroke his lips, the haze in my brain cleared, and it was if someone shot panic-infused adrenaline straight into my heart.

  Charlee.

  It took all of half a second for me to flip over on all fours and scan the bed for the small, portable white bassinet. My vision blurred as I flipped pillows, ran my hands across every inch of the sheets, and even hung upside down to look under the bed.

  Nothing.

  This made no sense. Babies just didn’t disappear.

  Kneeling on the mattress, I pressed the heels of my palms to my eyes and swallowed hard. “Okay, no big deal, Addie. You just lost your baby and there’s a four-foot alligator crawling around the house.”

  Oh God, I’m going to be sick.

  I fed her last night when she woke up for the third time. I walked her around the house while she was wide awake. I stumbled back into the guest bedroom sometime around two o’clock in the morning where Zep offered to take over and…

  Zep!

  Frantic, I flung myself across the bed and straddled him. Prepared to rip out every hair in his beard until he woke up, I felt his chest rise and fall with a quick rhythmic motion, and his lips thin and press in a tight line as if he were trying to hold in a laugh.

  This fucker was laughing?

  Pressing one hand on his chest, I braced the other by his face and leaned down until our noses touched. “Charlee is missing! Zep, stop laugh
ing for fuck’s sake!” The more frantic I became, the less of a hold he had on his composure until a deep laugh finally rumbled through his chest. Horrified, I grabbed my abandoned pillow and smacked him with it. “This is not funny! What the hell is wrong with you? Our baby has been kidnapped, and you’re having a party over here?”

  “Addie, take it down a few notches, baby,” he choked out, placing a hand on my waist while wiping his eyes with the other.

  “Fuck your notches. I’m going to find my baby.” Tossing the pillow on the floor, I slapped both palms against his chest. “Jesus, Zep, what kind of father are you?”

  Gathering my wrists in his hands, Zep flipped us both over in one fluid motion. Once I was pressed firmly against the mattress, he trapped my hands above my head and straddled me, his blue eyes darkening with a seriousness that sent a shiver up my spine.

  “If you’re done, I’ll answer your last question first. It should piss me the fuck off, but I’ll give you a pass since you went a little batshit just now.”

  “I did not go batshit! Our—”

  He cut my rant short by grabbing my lips between his index finger and thumb and squeezing them shut. “You’re done talking now.”

  Actually, I wasn’t. I had plenty more to say, but considering he’d paper clipped my face, I didn’t have much of a choice. As it was, my only course of retaliation was a very stern eye roll and a shallow snort that had zero effect on him.

  “As I was saying,” he continued with a smug grin. “To answer your last question, I’m an amazing father, contrary to your little speech there. Would you like to know why?”

  When I just narrowed my eyes and glared at him, he tightened his hold on my pinched lips and manually shook my head up and down in forced affirmation.

  Dick.

  “There’s my agreeable girl. I’m so glad you asked.”

  If I could move my legs, I’d knee him in his balls.

  “As I was saying, I’m such an amazing father because I noticed the mother of my child was half comatose last night, so I hijacked our daughter from her, tucked her into bed, and took over baby duties.”

  Okay, so I was a total shithead, and what he did was thoughtful, but it still didn’t explain why she was missing. Raising an eyebrow, I wiggled my lips in an attempt to speak, but Zep just tightened his hold and gave them a good twist.

  “Ommmfffphhh.”

  Ignoring my cries of pain, he clucked his tongue and leaned closer. “I wasn’t finished explaining yet, Adelaide. Your manners need work.”

  Yep. Once he moves, it’s on.

  “Your parents arrived early and your very kind and sweet mother heard us and met me in the kitchen at the crack of while I was warming up a bottle and offered to take Charlee so we both could get some rest,” he explained, a piece of his wild hair tumbling off his forehead and brushing my nose. “Call it a Christmas miracle, or a grandmother’s touch, but I haven’t heard a damn squeak out of her since. Now, I don’t know about you, but I feel a million times better and owe Marianne a huge hug.”

  I waited a few moments, making sure he was finished. Well, that was partially the reason. The other was because once his scent of salt and spice hit my nose, I only heard every third word and battled between wanting to hit him and lick him.

  “Pfn Uh Feee?” I mumbled between my pressed lips, which would’ve translated to, ‘“he’s asleep,” had I possessed use of my own lips.

  Zep furrowed his eyebrows. “I’m not sure if that was English or not, but either way, I’m enjoying the peace and quiet too much to care. Besides,” he added with a wicked grin, “now that we’re finally alone, and you’re at my mercy, maybe you owe me something as well.” He shifted his weight, and I let out a groan that sounded so the opposite of sexy I wanted to suffocate myself with a pillowcase.

  In my defense, it was hard to give an enticing groan when my lips were twisted like a Bavarian pretzel.

  Either Zep didn’t notice my rhinoceros moan, or he had suddenly found pachyderm mating sounds sexy because he growled low in his throat in response and released my lips to trail his hand down my ribcage and grip my hip. Flattening his pelvis against mine, he slowly rocked back and forth, kissing and licking his way into the hollow of my neck. With my hands bound, all I could do was endure his onslaught, his movements becoming rougher and more insistent. There was no question of his intention. Within moments of climbing on top of me, he’d hardened.

  “Fuck.” The strangled curse tore from his throat seconds before his lips scraped my jaw and found my mouth. His kiss landed heavy and powerful, our breaths lost in a tangle of tongues and clash of teeth. It was as if we were starving for each other.

  “Zep,” I mumbled in between kisses. “It’s Christmas.”

  “Good. I’ll unwrap my present now.” Weaving his rough hand around the material resting on my hip, he jerked my rather unsexy granny panties down my legs.

  What could I say? After having a baby, sexy thongs weren’t as much of a priority as practical ass huggers.

  “No,” I whispered, in a rather unconvincingly breathy tone, “I meant it’s Christmas morning, and we’re guests in my grandmother’s house. Do you think this is appropriate?”

  Zep sighed against my lips, stilling his movement. “Addie, these walls are paper thin. Did you not hear Savannah last night? Either her and Pope were pretty inappropriate all night, or your sister has suddenly taken up extreme nocturnal praying.”

  “That’s different. They’re married.” The minute the words were out of my mouth, a chill settled in the air. Marriage was a sore subject with Zep, and with good reason. I saw the way his posture slumped when people noted my last name was Dubois and Charlee’s was LeBlanc. He never pushed me, but I knew it got to him.

  Zep took a slow breath, a mix of annoyance and stubborn optimism flickering in his eyes. “Addie, you gave birth to my baby. I think that trumps vows. Besides, I can’t see Babs being a stickler for tradition.”

  He had a point. This was the same woman who not four weeks ago, drove my truck up on a sidewalk and informed her granddaughters, “You know what shut man up? Tickle his pickle. Make all man grin like upside down gator.”

  Chuckling, I weakened in his arms. “You’re right.”

  Letting go of my wrists, he cradled my face in his large hands and pressed our foreheads together, the soft hairs of his beard brushing across my chin. “I miss you. We’ve waited the required four weeks, and it’s been hell. I can’t hold back anymore, baby. I want you too damn bad.” Pulling back, he pinned me with a heated stare laced with question.

  I immediately understood.

  It was my decision. And although my body said yes, my head threw up warning flares.

  “It’s been a while,” I said, averting my gaze

  Zep gently turned my chin, forcing my eyes on him. “Are you nervous?”

  “A little. It’s not that I don’t want to, but we took precautions the first time and look what happened.” I wouldn’t give up my daughter for anything in the world, but life was chaotic enough. Another pink line was the last thing Zep and I needed. “It’ll be a long time before I’m ready to go down that road again.”

  With a devilish wink, Zep held up one finger and leaned over the bed, fumbling around with something on the floor. I almost crawled out from under him to ask him if he needed help when he popped back up with a shit-eating grin, waving two condoms in the air. “Never say a LeBlanc doesn’t learn his lesson.”

  “Zep, we used a condom before, remember?”

  “Not two,” he shot back.

  “At once?”

  “Yep.”

  “Won’t that um, not be fun for you?” I asked, trying not to laugh.

  There was a moment of silence as the humor faded from Zep’s face. “When will you learn, Addie? Just being with you is enough for me.”

  His words hung in the air as he waited for my signal. As usual, since finding out we were having a baby, Zep had allowed things to happen on my terms and my pace. W
hat happened or didn’t happen between us was my decision. It wasn’t until that moment that I understood how much of a gift he’d given me. Zep wasn’t used to relinquishing control. He’d always been the cocky go-getter. Strong, sexual, and confident. If he wanted it, he took it. He’d been forced to adopt the attitude early in life. A man’s man. Take charge and make shit happen.

  But for me, he went against everything he knew. Everything he stood for.

  For me.

  To keep me.

  Me.

  As my stomach flipped, I ran my hands down the length of his chest, curling them around his hips, and giving him back his control. “Go slow.”

  Zep’s slow smile pressed against my mouth. “Addie, after thirteen years, I don’t know any other way.”

  Lifting my T-shirt above my head, he tossed it to the floor and said nothing as he looked at me. Zep and I were no strangers to each other’s bodies, but the way he stared at me left me shivering under his gaze.

  “It’s like I’m seeing you for the first time,” he rasped, cradling me as he gently traced the outline of my breast with the calloused pads of his fingers.

  Letting his words sink in, I vocalized what I realized I’d needed all along. “Make it feel like the first time.”

  Zep’s jaw clenched, all the muscles in his neck tensing as I held my breath. Palming the back of my neck, he kissed me again. A long, slow, deep kiss that was both unhurried and all-consuming. A kiss that ignited this living, breathing thing between us that had never died, no matter what we’d forced ourselves to believe.

  Lowering us both onto the bed, he worked himself out of his boxers, and taking the condom out of his hand, I took my time rolling it on. Just as I trailed my hand back up, Zep pulled it away, groaning as he kissed my palm.

  “That’s enough. It’s been too long.” Sinking in between my legs, he ran a finger along my folds as I moaned. “My Addie, ready for me just like the first time.”

  “Please,” I begged, unable to take much more. Letting out a labored breath, I shut my eyes the minute I felt him push against my entrance.