Brick Shithouse

by Bijou Hunter

Not that I’ll admit this fact out loud. The Johanssons expect to talk her out of leaving Ellsberg. My family assumes I’d never leave White Horse. A whole fucking lot of people have expectations about Audrey and my living situation. The less they know about my willingness to bend to my girl’s needs, the more leverage I’ll possess in the negotiations.

  I make great time driving up to Ellsberg and check into the hotel at three. Calling Audrey, I’m thrown by her short answers.

  “I’m in town,” I announce, expecting applause and possibly girlish squeals of delight.

  “Okay.”

  “I’m heading to your house.”

  “Okay.”

  Unsettled by her curt responses, I ask, “Are you upset?”

  “No.”

  “Should I bring anything?”

  “No.”

  “Are you having a mental breakdown?”

  “No.”

  My last question is obviously a joke while her answer is clearly a lie. Hanging up, I wonder if her family brainwashed her overnight. Is she too afraid to tell me she changed her mind? If that’s the case, I’m on a mission to change it back.

  I start my plan to woo back Audrey by switching out my black sweater for a too-tight T-shirt. The damn thing reveals every muscle, and I’m fairly certain I can rip through it if I flex just right. I might need to put that possibility to the test if Audrey isn’t pleasingly aroused by my presence.

  I arrive at the Johansson house ten minutes after leaving the hotel. Down a tree-covered road, I first spot a house belonging to Audrey’s grandmother. I follow the wooden signs directing me along the gravel road toward a second large home. Parking near a standalone garage, I don’t immediately turn off my engine.

  Before I face Audrey and her family, my bruised ego needs nursing. Tugging at the sleeves of my too-tight shirt, I can’t believe my woman needs reminding about why I’m a catch. I certainly don’t require anything to remember she’s the one. Not once since she left have I checked my phone where I have a photo of Audrey. I never needed to see a picture of what I’ve burned in my mind. From the top of her thickly maned head to the bottom of her petite feet, the girl is perfection. I dig her voice and her smiles and her frowns, and I bet I’ll even enjoy her farts once she has the guts to let them rip around me.

  I’m massive head-over-giant-heels for Audrey Johansson. Meanwhile, she’s in her house, second-guessing what I have to offer.

  What the ever-fucking hell is this bullshit?

  I struggle against the strong urge to call my mom so she can tell me how I’m fucking amazing. I don’t dial, of course. I’m a grown man, and she raised me to know my worth even if Audrey can’t see it.

  Opening my truck door, I have a Titanic-sized chip balancing on my massive shoulder. How can my Pouty Princess not want to ditch her life for a chance to build a new one with me? What fresh hell is Kentucky that it conned Audrey into giving up her colossal beefcake?

  The front door of the house opens, and Audrey appears on the large wraparound porch. I watch her hesitate and tug nervously at her long-sleeve two-toned Ramones T-shirt. No fucking dithering from me, I walk straight for her.

  Nothing is keeping us apart. Not her family or my family or her or me or the many large dogs possibly hunting me as I storm toward the house.

  Audrey hurries down the steps of the porch. I don’t know if she’s thrilled to see me or concerned I’m about to be eaten by her pooches. Either way, she runs to me and throws her arms around my waist. Right this moment, I don’t give two shits if her affection is a result of my sexy snug shirt, the snarling dogs, or her genuine feelings for me. All I care about is Audrey is in my arms again.

  AUDREY

  Resting my head against Cap’s broad chest, I exhale softly. I can’t believe I worried about him losing interest. His expression when he saw me said everything I needed to know. Casper Hayes remains hooked.

  “Are you cold?” I ask, still holding onto him. “Why are you carrying your jacket in this weather?”

  “A more important question is, will your dogs eat me if I’m frozen solid?”

  Grinning up at him, I’m reasonably certain he could kick major canine ass. “They’re too spoiled for frozen food, but let’s get inside just to be safe.”

  Cap wraps his arm around me as we walk toward the front door. “Is the entire family here?”

  “No, just a few. Are you nervous?” Seeing his amused smirk, I shake my head. “Never mind.”

  “I missed you.”

  “It’s only been a day.”

  “A long fucking day.”

  “Yeah,” I sigh. “I know what you mean.”

  “Should I kiss you now or wait until later? I don’t want your father going biker thug on me if I make out with his daughter on the porch.”

  “A real quick one should be fine.”

  Cap’s demanding lips aren’t meant for short and sweet kisses. My bones turn to liquid until I only want for him to carry me to bed where the heat between my legs can be dealt with in a very thorough manner.

  “Pip kisses like she owns me,” he says when our lips part. “Shit, my dick might literally break free from my jeans. You’ll want to prepare for that shocker.”

  Grinning as he adjusts his jeans to fit better, I whisper, “This meet and greet ought to be a party.”

  Cap chuckles at my nervous smile. I can’t imagine acting casually with my family when I know he’s sporting an erection.

  Inside, my family stands scattered in the room. None of them particularly friendly, so I pick the closest person to introduce.

  “Tucker, this is Cap Hayes.”

  “Fucking hell, you’re a fucking brick shithouse!” my uncle yells.

  “Stop,” I mutter, embarrassed by how loud he is.

  “No worries, Audrey,” Cap says as his fingers curl over my shoulder. “I’m sure the guy’s harmless unless he’s holding a kid.”

  His comment sucks the air out of the already tense room. Tucker’s mouth pops open, mimicking my parents’ expressions. My father and uncle look at one another. Pop glares while Tucker does his scolded puppy pout.

  Cap smiles at me and asks, “What, too soon?”

  “Asshole,” Pop growls, though I’m unsure if he’s talking to Tucker or Cap.

  Avoiding a showdown, I hurry to do more introductions. “Cap, this is my mom, Farah, and my sisters, Lily and Rando.”

  Cap walks past my uncle and Pop without giving them a second look. Taking my mom’s hand, he smiles in the effortless way that makes me melt.

  “Nice to meet you, ma’am. I must say you have some strong genetics, All three girls look just like you.”

  “Thank you,” Mom says and shakes his hand. “Now that we’ve met, you can explain why you’re rushing Audrey into moving to Tennessee.”

  Cap only smiles at her overly direct question. “My father isn’t a young man, Farah, but he won’t retire until he knows his children are set up in life. My brother and sister found their perfect matches and had their kids. Until I have, Dad won’t enjoy the autumn of his life. Having met Audrey, I know she’s the one. I don’t see any reason to fuck around like a patient fucker with nowhere to go and nothing to do.”

  I’m proud of Cap for getting so far into his bullshit before descending into a “fucking” mess. Mom can’t tell if she’s charmed by his answer or annoyed by it. I honestly don’t think Cap cares either way. I swear he doesn’t seem even a tiny bit nervous about meeting my family.

  If the Johanssons are as unbreakable as stone, Cap is like a mighty river. I remember during one of our family road trips that Pop explained how the Grand Canyon was created by the “devastating persistence” of the Colorado River. Cap is the same way. He won’t relent until he’s gotten his way.

  Mom crosses her arms. “I still think it’s too fast.”

  “I’m sure you do,” Cap says and then turns his gaze to me. “Which of your sisters is the uppity one and which one is the weird one?”

  I roll my eyes
at his questions, but he only grins. I’ve never seen a man so excited to annoy people in the way Cap is right now.

  “Lily is uppity,” I say, gesturing toward her.

  “Hey,” she whines.

  “And Rando is weird,” I continue and point to my other sister who does not react.

  “Got it. And you have a jerk brother too, right?”

  “Yeah, but he’s out running an errand.”

  “Good. Lots of faces and names to remember, and you all look a lot alike.”

  “You’re an ass,” Pop growls.

  “But you knew that already.”

  “Yeah, I did, but I assumed you’d put that shit in neutral.”

  “You assumed wrong. It happens to the best of us,” Cap says and takes my hand. “Did you want to show me around or go straight to packing?”

  “Packing?” Mom gasps as if someone just died. Her panicked eyes find Pop’s, and he goes into angry-father overdrive.

  “She isn’t leaving.”

  “Tonight?” Cap says, smirking down at Pop’s raging face. “No, we’re not leaving tonight. It’s too late to drive back, and I told my parents I’d return on Wednesday.”

  “No,” Pop growls, sounding like me when I’m not getting my way.

  I stand behind the two men and pat my father’s chest. “Pop, it’s okay. You saw the house. It’s in a quiet neighborhood, and there’s lots of space for family to visit and sleep over.”

  “You can’t go alone. Your sister will move too,” Pop says, pulling an idea out of his ass that he obviously hadn’t run by anyone else.

  “Wait, what?” Lily says.

  “Not you,” Dad mutters without looking at her. “Rando.”

  “No,” Rando says casually.

  “You only work part-time, and you want a cat. Adopt one there.”

  “No.”

  Pop turns to Rando and tries to hold her gaze, but she has the ability to both stare directly in someone’s eyes and also past them. Pop moves his head around, trying to force her to focus on him.

  “Do this for me,” he says in his most fatherly voice.

  “No,” she replies in the same tone as when she first said no. Rando isn’t upset. She just isn’t moving.

  “I don’t want her to move with me,” I say while patting Pop’s shoulder to get him to look at me. “I also don’t want a cat.”

  “You’re upsetting your sister,” Pop lies.

  “No,” Rando immediately says, ruining his guilt trip.

  Pop turns to Mom and sighs. “I give up.”

  “I’ll help you take down the punk,” Tucker announces, and I’d nearly forgotten he was in the room.

  Cap glances at my uncle and grins in the most obnoxious way. I swear he’s hoping to beat on some middle-aged men today.

  “Don’t break a hip, Grampa,” Cap says before turning his gaze to me. “Show me your room while your parents regroup and devise their next strategy.”

  I never think to tell him no. We ought to remain downstairs and have Cap get to know everyone. That’d make sense if my parents weren’t pissed, Uncle Tucker didn’t want to prove his family mettle, and my sisters weren’t irritated to get sucked into the drama. Plus, I sense my brother is waiting to appear and make the entire situation worse.

  Tossing aside my manners, I guide Cap to the wide, wooden staircase. As my family watches us go, I swear I feel their gazes drilling holes into his equally wide back. If the smile-wearing Cap is bothered by their irritation, he never shows it. A river always knows it’ll outlast a rock.

  CAP

  Audrey’s rock and roll vibe extends to her bedroom where the walls are covered with band posters and classic vinyl records. I spot all the predictable names like Lynyrd Skynyrd, Aerosmith, Led Zeppelin, and of course, the Ramones. I’m surprised to see a Frank Zappa poster on the back of her door since the weirdo artist seems a bit outside what her father would listen to with his daughter.

  “Who drew that?” I ask, gesturing toward a black and white sketch of Audrey.

  “Rando during her art phase. That was before her nature phase which led to her animal phase.”

  “Is rock music your phase?”

  Audrey sits on her full-sized bed and shrugs. “I got into music when Pop and I would listen to rock while fixing my El Camino.”

  “You look like your mom and act like your dad. An even split between her good looks and his big mouth.”

  I assume Audrey knows I’m teasing her. My smile ought to make that fucking obvious, but she gets a dark frown on her perfect pouty lips.

  “Why are you pushing Pop’s buttons so much? Do you not like him?”

  Sitting next to her on the bed, I can’t imagine sleeping in something so small. As soon as I was out of my crib, Mom set up a king-size mattress on the floor of my bedroom. I swear Audrey could fit in my old baby bed if she curled her legs. Is Pip tinier than I remember? Or have I grown since we were together in White Horse?

  “He’s a decent man,” I say and take her tiny hand in my massive one, “especially for a thug. I respect what your grandfather built in Ellsberg and how your father expanded on it. That’s all good, but I have to give him shit. That’s how fuckers like us deal with each other.”

  “But you’re stressing him out more than is necessary.”

  “Do you really believe he’d be chilling if I weren’t pushing his buttons?”

  Audrey pulls her hand out of mine. “No, but it’s difficult for Pop and Mom to accept my leaving. They were okay with Lily’s fiancé until he started talking about wanting to move to Boston. After that, they changed around him. Pop always looked like someone just farted when Jay was around. I don’t know if their behavior affected Lily enough for her to end the engagement. I just know they got their way without saying a word.”

  “If only they were so subtle with me.”

  “Don’t be a little bitch,” she growls in her best Johansson growl.

  Laughing, I tap her perfect little nose. “Boop.”

  Audrey refuses to laugh. “My family means a lot to me.”

  “Not as much as mine means to me.”

  Narrowing her gaze, she knows she can’t win in a game of “who’s closer to their family.” Instead, she just grumbles, “It’s not a competition.”

  “If it were, I’d win.”

  “Stinky Farmer Ted fart.”

  “I’d give them up and move here if that’s what you needed,” I say, and she flinches as if my words slap her out of her bad mood. “It’d kill me, and I’d secretly resent you until the day I died, but I’d do it because your happiness matters more than mine.”

  Audrey doesn’t speak for a really fucking long thirty seconds. “Bullshit.”

  “Don’t cry,” I say, allowing her an out from the turmoil brewing in her big brown eyes.

  “I’m not crying.”

  Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, I have her in my lap before she knows I’ve moved her. “You’re thinking about getting hysterical. Should I find you a tissue?”

  “I feel like a kid with you sometimes. Like you’ll stick me in a high chair and feed me soon.”

  “Kinky, but I’m not into that level of baby play. Sorry, pumpkin,” I murmur and kiss her throat. “I fell for a bitchy, ass-kicker, not a helpless infant.”

  Fighting a moan, she whispers, “I don’t feel like an ass-kicker. I’m really nervous about moving. What if I hate living there?”

  “Then you’ll come back here, and we figure out how to make shit work.”

  Audrey blinks a few times as if she might actually cry. “It’ll be embarrassing to make this big move only to come crawling back.”

  “Then don’t crawl, Audrey. You strut back to Ellsberg with your head held high and say you found Tennessee to be a shithole.”

  A smile slowly forms on her pouty lips. “You really see the world as that uncomplicated.”

  “Life for people like us isn’t complicated at all. You make a decision and live with the consequence. That�
��s it. If you fail, you fucking fail. Shit happens to everyone. Our fathers didn’t build their businesses without fucking up. Our parents didn’t fall in love and stay together all these years without making astonishingly bad choices. They just dealt with the fallout from their bullshit and kept going. That’s all I’m asking you to do with me. Succeed or fail, just keep moving forward.”

  Audrey rests her head on my shoulder and exhales all of her worries until she’s completely relaxed in my arms. I’m always surprised by how uneasy she is in her own skin. Her father is a badass, and she lived a charmed life. We grew up with the same luxuries, yet I wear my choices—good and bad—as a badge of fucking honor. Audrey, though, second-guesses even her best decisions.

  Holding her, I realize she’s third-generation badass. Her grandfather came from nothing and built something. Her father took that something and expanded it. Whatever she accomplishes must feel insignificant in the wake of their successes. Crap, is this what our children will face one day?

  9 - AUDREY

  I spent the summer between seventh and eighth grade decorating my room to suit me. Mom provided a budget of three hundred dollars to redo it, and I put thought into everything I bought. This room acted as my sanctuary during my most trying years. Soon, I’ll tell it goodbye.

  “Can I put my posters up at the house?” I ask Cap while cuddled in his lap.

  “You’re an adult. So the answer to most of the questions you ask is yes.”

  “My parents do a good job of running stuff, so I’ve never been in a hurry to take charge. I sometimes even forget I’m an adult.”

  “Been there, did that, and I’m older than you.”

  “So I shouldn’t feel lame?”

  “About anything? No, never. If something is lame, but you like it, that something ceases to be lame. Your approval gives it value.”

  “You sound like a life coach.”

  “No, Pip, I sound like my mom.”

  Grinning at his expression, I reach for his face but stop short when Rando walks into the middle of my room.

  She stares at me while completely ignoring Cap. “I’m concerned about your safety.”