Bayou Stix Series: Bayou Stix Limited Edition Box Set

by Skye Turner

  I throw a pillow at Ty and he catches it and puts it behind his head. He winks at me. “You’re not fast enough.”

  “Shut up! And yes, that call. Anyway, she went into labor and I happened to be at Java and Sweeties.”

  He mutters, “Nice coincidence.”

  I ignore him and continue. “Melonie was there when I arrived. Dade dropped her off and was going to pick her back up after running an errand. Lexi and Erik were also there… working. None of them had vehicles. I brought them to the hospital.”

  “All those rich people were there and none of them had a ride?!” He can’t believe it.

  “Yes, I don’t know why. I didn’t ask. But, I brought them to the hospital and then hung out for a bit. I went down to grab some of the family with Cruz and, well, we were hot and heavy in the elevator.”

  Ty whistles and grins wolfishly.

  “Shut it. What are you, like twelve?! We were into it and missed the doors opening. AnnaBeth was there and disgusted with the PDA. Then she saw it was me… and well, that was fun.”

  Ty busts out laughing. “Wait?! You were all over Drummer Boy in the elevator and your snobby ass sister caught you? Red-handed? That is fucking priceless. Damn, I wish I’d seen her face!”

  I can’t help it. I chuckle. Her face was indeed priceless. Wish someone would have been there to snap a photo. “She looked like a fish out of water!” But, then I remember the look she gave Cruz. It makes my blood boil. “She was looking down on him before she ever saw me. She was judging him.”

  Ty sits up. “Some people are old-fashioned, Tif. You know that. Not everyone is up to date with the twenty-first century.”

  I nod. “I know. But the fact that she’s my sister and we came from the same place just pisses me off. I don’t think like that. I’ve never thought like that. My parents don’t either. Not really. They are snobby as hell, but they aren’t racist. They don’t give a shit if someone is white or black. They only care about the name and what their bank account says.”

  Ty clucks his tongue. “Are you sure that’s the way she was looking at him, Tif? AnnaBeth is snooty as shit. That’s a fact, but I’ve never known her to look down at people for, well, race.”

  I look at him and raise my brow. “Oh, you spend a lot of time with her?”

  He visibly shudders. “Dear God, no. The thought of being around your Ice Queen sister for even five minutes makes my blood freeze and my dick shrivel. No offense.”

  I laugh. Sadly, I get it. “None taken. She’s not a very warm person for sure. I get it. I don’t care to be around her, at all. My parents either…”

  That reminds me. Shit, my grandma’s birthday is tomorrow. I love my grandma. Of all of my family, I’m very much like her. My parents are embarrassed by her because she is stubborn and headstrong and she doesn’t give a rat’s ass about money or social standing. She never has. She speaks her mind and is as blunt as the day is long. I love that woman.

  My parents tolerate her because they have to. She’s the bank. Well, the money is mostly hers. They can’t bite the hand that feeds them.

  Ugh, I need to go tomorrow. I just don’t want to see my parents… or sister. Or whatever man they will throw at me because they think he’s suitable and it’s past time for me to stop this ridiculousness and marry into more money and produce perfect babies. I shudder.

  “Hey, Ty?”

  I can see he knows something is up. He cautiously says, “Yeah?” I give him my flirtatious smile and his back straightens. “What do you want? I don’t like when you direct that smile at me. I usually don’t like what follows!”

  I laugh. He’s right. We’ve worked together so long, he can read me like a book. “Well, it’s my grandma’s birthday tomorrow. Do you have plans?”

  He throws a pretzel at me and glares. “Seriously? It’s my day off and now you want me to spend it around your rude ass prissy family?!”

  I mock glare. “Hey, you like my grandma!”

  He chuckles. “I do like her. Mrs. Clarabelle Bellaforte is a gem! I love that woman. She’s so spunky and always calling people out. She’s awesome. It’s the rest of them I can’t stomach.”

  Batting my eyes at him, I smirk. “Please, Ty. You’d be doing me a huge favor. I can’t go alone. They’ll circle me and pounce. If you’re there, I can have an excuse to ignore whomever they push me at. I’m certain he’ll be perfectly pressed and cringe worthy! The ‘perfect candidate’ for a Bellaforte bride.”

  I can see he’s going to agree. He frowns, but his eyes are twinkling. “Yes, we can’t have that. Can I say something crass to AnnaBeth? And can I drink?”

  I laugh. “Absolutely on both counts. I’ll need a drink of my own!”

  We are laughing at the likely scenarios for tomorrow when a call comes in. Time to get to work.

  It’s late. We’ve been here since 6AM and it’s now a quarter after four. Only a little more than an hour left this go round and I’m exhausted. There are always more calls on the weekend, but with the weather changing and it not mimicking the temperature of Hell outside the past few days, people have been out and about a lot more and the calls are abundant.

  I’m lying on the couch in the trailer and praying no more calls come in today. It’s been quiet for the past hour though, so I’m scared to say anything and jinx it.

  With the quiet, my mind is in overdrive and I can’t stop thinking about Cruz. I know he thinks he’s not good enough for me, but I also know he’s wrong. I can’t imagine what he’s dealt with his whole life with his mom being raped and his dad being the wealthy white man who committed the crime. One thing I’ve learned in this line of work though is that evil is evil and it doesn’t discriminate based on race, social standing, or anything else.

  I bet Cruz has faced a lot of adversity because of his skin color throughout his life. I’ve witnessed it firsthand with some people. I’ve just never thought that way myself. I don’t see a sexy black man when I look at Cruz. I just see a gorgeous man who interests me. I’ve never been interested in anyone like him before. Not because of his skin, but because of him. He’s a rocker, but he’s not anything like I’d imagine a rock star would be. None of the band members are. I’ve gotten to know them some over the past few months and none are what I would have imagined “famous rock stars” would act like. They are just regular guys. Gorgeous, regular guys who dote on the women in their lives.

  I want to talk to him. I have a feeling he will avoid my call, so I’m going to do something out of character. Maybe it’ll intrigue him enough to respond.

  Taking out my cell phone, I type out a quick message.

  “Tifanie:

  I have something for you. Can I come by when I leave here tonight? Will you be home?”

  Before I can overthink it, I hit send.

  Letting out the breath I didn’t know I was holding, I lean back with a throaty sigh.

  Ty startles me as he laughs. I look up and he’s watching me. “You send something to Cruz?”

  I nod. “I did. I’m waiting to see if he’s going to text back.”

  He laughs. “What did you send?”

  I smirk. “None of your business.”

  He laughs and crosses over to the couch and plops down next to me. He swipes my phone out of my hand before I can react. “H-eeeeee-y!”

  He laughs again and tries to open the app. “Was it dirty?”

  Slapping his shoulder, I wrestle the phone away from him and laugh. “That is none of your business! And if it is dirty, you sure as shit don’t need to be seeing it!”

  Throwing his hands up in surrender, he laughs. “Hey, I can appreciate your hot bod. But no worries, I do not want to get intimate with you. Ewwwww.”

  I bust out laughing. “Thank God! Likewise!”

  That thought makes me a little bit nauseated. That is one line we have never crossed. It’s not one either of us is interested in crossing. It’s refreshing to have such an amazing friendship without the drama of sexual attraction. Leaning back aga
inst the couch, I stare at the ceiling and watch the fan blades turn. Ty copies me. I see his head turn toward me from the corner of my eye.

  Turning, I look at him. He has a serious look on his face. “Tif. Be careful. I know you want Cruz, but you said he stepped back. Again. I really don’t want you to get hurt.”

  Sighing, I smile at him. “I know. I don’t want me to get hurt either. I love you, you know that. You’re the best. But, he’s worth it.” Turning, I stare back at the ceiling. “I just wish he realized that, too.”

  Ty claps my hand and squeezes. “Well, make him. If you really think he’s worth it. Beat his ass down. Time to break out the big guns. Go big or go home, right?!”

  Chuckling, I say, “That’s the plan. This volcano is ready to erupt.”

  My phone buzzes just then. My heart accelerates as I lift the phone.

  “Cruz:

  I’ll be here.”

  That’s all he writes, but at least he responded. Time to kick this up a notch.

  I want Cruz Edwards and it’s time he realized I’m not backing down. He wants to run, that’s fine, but I’m good at the chase and I have strong endurance.

  I’m just not sure how to help someone overcome… himself.

  Chapter Eleven

  Cruz

  Tifanie’s text came through about half an hour ago. She has something to give me? What does that mean? What could she have for me?

  I knew she’d call. She warned me. And she always follows through. Her word is as good as law. I’ve been thinking about it… about her… all damn day. Last night, too, if I’m being honest.

  After talking to Jude last night, and then my momma, I know I can’t keep pushing people away from me. More importantly, I can’t push Tifanie away. Especially since she’s the first woman in my life that I can ever remember wanting to hold on to. That scares the shit out of me.

  After we left the hospital last night, I headed back to Momma’s. She’d cooked dinner and wanted to talk. I didn’t have much of a choice since Clove asked where Tifanie was, in front of her, at the hospital. I had to explain that Tifanie had been there but she’d left. Both women wanted to know why. That was a fun explanation.

  Both got on my case and I listened. I didn’t really have a choice, but then Momma wanted me to follow her home after Clove fell asleep. As we ate, Momma told me that she thought people were placed in our lives for a reason. She said that we all have a path and that everything that happens to us, good and bad, is part of a bigger plan. She’s a woman of strong faith. It amazes me. She amazes me. After all of the horror she endured, her faith is unwavering. I want to get to that point. I want to be able to embrace what life has to offer; I’m just not certain how to do that.

  I’ve pushed most people away for as long as I can remember. I don’t have the slightest idea how to take a chance and let someone in. My circle is extremely small and extremely tight.

  You want Tifanie. I want Tifanie. I tried to deny it. I tried to push her away. I tried to get her to understand that we don’t fit, but she’s stubborn. She’s determined and beautiful. She’s exactly what I always imagined my woman would be. Well, if I ever thought I’d have a woman, which I didn’t. Is Tifanie going to be that woman?

  I can’t stop thinking about her and I have a lot of excess energy, so I head out back to my gym. I had the old garage in my backyard converted about a year ago. I spend a lot of time in here so I didn’t cut any corners. My gym easily rivals any of the membership gyms around. And it’s mine. I can work out whenever I want to and be alone while I do it. It suits me.

  As I turn on the music and let the beat start to pulsate through me, I can’t stop thinking about Tifanie. Why is she coming over here? Not that she’s never been here before. She has. More than once. We’ve hung out a good bit these past few months. Here, at her house, at Java and Sweeties… we’ve spent time together and with other people, but not a whole lot of time just the two of us. I always came up with a reason as to why that didn’t need to happen.

  Thinking back, I pushed and pushed her, but she stuck around. She’s been a constant in my life for almost ten weeks now and I never even realized it. She’s slowly but surely woven her way into my life. She’s anchored her way into my thoughts… into my head… and my heart.

  Son of a bitch.

  Shit, I care about her. I really care about her. I’ve pushed my own feelings down or dismissed them as nothing for months now, but now I know. I know I care and she says she wants me. I told her I wanted her. She says she’s not going anywhere. She hasn’t, either. Maybe she really is here to stay.

  Do I want her to stay?

  She deserves a chance. Do I deserve the same chance?

  Everything going on in my head is making me insane. It’s information overload. I push my body so hard I’m surprised I don’t crumple into a heap on the ground. At the end of my workout, I’m gasping for air as my chest rapidly rises and falls. Sweat is pouring down my face and chest and my muscles are burning.

  Looking at the time, I see it’s about the time for Tifanie to arrive. Doing a quick cool down, I wipe myself off with my shirt, and flip off the music and lights before locking the door behind me.

  Heading back toward the house, I hear a car turn into my driveway. I decide to wait instead of going in. She’ll be here in thirty seconds anyway. Her car rounds the curve and she parks under the basketball goal. We’re staring at each other through the windshield. She smiles and my stomach drops.

  I smile back and hers widens. She opens the door and steps out. All I see are bare legs. Miles of bare legs. What the hell is she wearing?!

  I don’t even realize I’m staring until she laughs. It’s musical and seems to dance on the breeze. I hear her, but I can’t look up from the very short skirt of her dress. Why is she wearing a dress?!

  Her amused voice finally gets my attention. “I guess you like my dress, Cruz?”

  I swallow and look up from her legs. My gaze travels the path from her hips and torso before running over her bosom and resting on her face. She’s smirking, but her gaze is devouring me. All I’m wearing are my trainers and red mesh shorts, which are low on my hips. She’s fixated on my stomach. Looking down, I can’t help but smirk as well. I guess she likes my hard work.

  I am ripped. There’s no other word for it. I work out every single day for at least two hours. I’m very defined and have lots of muscle without being a “meathead”. My abs are streamlined.

  That’s where Tif’s gaze is focused. She swallows. I suddenly feel a little flirtatious. Standing with my legs apart, I cross my arms and I don’t miss the way her breathing accelerates as she notices all of the muscle on display.

  Smiling at her response to me, I ask casually, “You want to come in? I need to shower.”

  She blinks, but doesn’t look up at my face.

  I chuckle lightly. “Tifanie.” She finally raises her gaze. I point at the back door. “Do you want to come in? I need to go shower right quick.”

  She nods and I swear she mutters, “Jesus… the visual…”

  It makes me feel amazing and I gesture for her to precede me. “Ladies first.”

  Her ass is cupped lovingly in the short black material and I watch it as she walks in front of me. I have the urge to touch and since I have no idea what is happening to me, I clench my hands at my sides, and stare at the sway of her hips.

  She stops on the steps and her toned ass is in my direct line of sight. I hear a snicker and look up. She’s laughing at me with mirth and desire in her eyes. “Are you checking out my ass?”

  Busted. What can I do?!

  Smiling sheepishly and shrugging, I say, “Sorry, busted.”

  Then, she surprises me as she shakes it in my face and says, “That’s ok. I like it.” She winks. “That’s why I wore it.” And she walks into my house.

  Dear lord, what is going on? I feel like I just jumped out of a plane and I’m not certain if the parachute will open.

  I’m not sure what ex
actly is happening or why she’s here, but I have a feeling shit is about to get real interesting.

  Shaking my head and feeling an acute case of optimism, I take a minute to calm my thoughts and follow her into my house.

  She’s not in the kitchen, so I head into the living room. She’s walking around looking at everything, trailing her fingers over the back of the couch. It’s pretty sexy.

  As she hears me, she turns and smiles at me. “Go ahead and get cleaned up. I’ll just make myself…” she rounds the couch and sits and her skirt rides up to her crotch. It’s barely covered. My mouth goes dry. “Comfortable.”

  I nod. The ability to speak alludes me. She chuckles as I head down the hall.

  After flipping the shower on, I strip down and look at myself in the floor-length mirror, trying to see what Tifanie sees. I can’t. I only see myself. Caramel skin over tight muscle, crystal blue eyes, full lips, tattoos on my shoulders and arms… I’m tall, over six foot, but I just look like me. I don’t get the fascination. That’s not to say I don’t know I’m attractive. I do. I’ve heard it my whole life, but it was usually in the context of, “I can’t believe he’s so attractive.”

  Ugh. I don’t have time for this. Shaking my head to stop the downward spiral, I step into the shower and quickly wash off. Within minutes, I’m done. Grabbing a towel, I quickly blot my skin and wrap it around my waist.

  Shit, I don’t have any clothes in here. I have to cross the hall. Tifanie is in the living room though, so I can make it without her seeing me. I feel weird though.

  It’s not a big deal. Grab some clothes to throw on and then let’s go see what she has for me.

  Opening the door, the steam billows into the hallway. I step out. The air is much cooler out here, so I stop for a minute to feel the difference on my skin. A gasp makes me jump and my towel loosens. Instincts kick in and I grab it before it falls completely off, but not quick enough to stop from flashing her.

  I look up and Tifanie is staring at me and her mouth is opening and closing with no sound emerging. Her eyes are raking my body and though I have the towel on, I feel like I’m naked. My pulse quickens and the blatant appreciation and desire on her face has my groin stirring.