by Josie Kerr
“Well, seeing as you’re wearing a skirt, it’ll be pretty easy. . . .” Tig’s nimble fingers snaked up under her hem. “Man, I love it when you wear a crinoline. Makes you seem extra prissy. I like extra prissy.”
“Oh, does it now,” she said, wiggling a bit when she felt the bite of Tig’s fingers grabbing at the flesh of her thigh.
Tig shifted so he could get a better grip and a bigger handful of her luscious rump, and he discovered that she was not wearing panties. Again.
“Oh my God, Charlotte. Do you never wear panties when you wear a dress?”
“I usually wear panties to the office.”
“Well, thank God. I don’t know if I could stand it, thinking about you behind that big desk, not wearing panties. Wait, usually?” He gawked at her, and she winked.
“Oh, man, now you’ve done it,” he said with a grin, and he dove toward her, forcing her back to the bench seat of the glider and digging his hands under the layers of tulle.
Charlotte wrapped her legs around Tig’s trim hips. “I need you in me.”
“Here, now?”
“Here, and definitely now.”
Tig rocked against her, making her gasp and almost making her come just from the friction between the tulle and denim.
With a smacking kiss, Tig sat up and dug in his pocket for a condom. “I almost didn’t replenish my stash,” he said with a wink as he dropped his pants and rolled the condom on. “Shit, Charlotte, you like looking?”
“Oh yeah . . .”
“I’ll have to remember that,” Tig growled and pounced on her, and she accepted him into her slick core with a sigh.
“Oh, yeah,” she repeated as she rocked her hips up to meet him.
Tig grunted, eyes closed, mouth a little open, and Charlotte saw his tongue flick over his lower lip. She nipped that same lip, and Tig’s cock jumped inside her. He caught her mouth in a kiss and started rocking, grinding against her.
Tig grabbed her arms, holding her hands above her head so she was stretched out under him. “Open your eyes, Charlotte. I want your eyes on me.”
When she did, she saw him smile down at her. And when she clenched around him, his eyes rolled back in his head for a split second, and he bit his lip again.
Charlotte could feel her climax building, and Tig could see it. He grinned again and leaned down to kiss her sweetly on the mouth. That kiss turned hot when Tig began to forcefully thrust into her. Charlotte whined into his mouth, the whimper turning into a yelp as they tumbled to the deck below the pergola.
“Baby, are you okay?” Tig looked into Charlotte’s surprised eyes, but she grinned and pushed him over on his back
“Oh yeah, I’m okay,” she said, straddling him, wiggling and wriggling on top of him to get that delicious friction against her clit.
Tig fumbled with the buttons of her blouse, and when he could not unfasten them quickly enough, he pulled the hem of her shirt up to expose her full bust. Then he slipped his fingers into her bra so he could get at her nipples.
Charlotte sucked in a breath when he pinched her nipples between his callused fingers, and she arched her back and clenched around him. The sight of her basking in ecstasy brought Tig over with her.
As her climax washed over her, Charlotte lay down on Tig, breast to chest. She still rocked, Tig still thrust, but they slowed together, finally stopping when Charlotte’s limbs relaxed and she went limp on top of him, though they were still joined.
“Mmm,” Charlotte sighed. Tig hugged her tight, kissed her sweet face, and never wanted to let her go.
“Baby, I gotta pull out and get rid of this condom,” Tig said. Charlotte bit back a laugh because he was thoroughly rumpled, hatless, and had lipstick smeared on his mouth. Charlotte kissed the side of his mouth and reluctantly rolled off of him.
“One down.”
“What?” He settled back down next to her, pulling her close to nestle into his chest.
“The pergola. We just need to tackle the garden, the living room, and the dining room table. . . .”
He laughed. “Let me recharge my batteries for a bit. I’m not twenty-two anymore.”
Charlotte rolled her eyes and gave a mock exasperated sigh. “Fine.” And then she giggled.
“I like the sound of that, Charlotte. You don’t know how much.”
“Well, you’re responsible for me making that sound.”
She swore she could see him puff up with manly pride at her confession.
She settled down beside him and sighed contentedly.
“What was that?” Tig was suddenly alert, propped up on one elbow, looking toward the cluster of ground cover that edged the pergola.
The rustling stopped and then started again.
Charlotte sat up and they both sat still, listening and alert.
“There it is again,” Tig whispered. He got up, and silently, especially for a man wearing boots, stealthily walked in the direction of the sound. With big eyes and bitten lip, Charlotte watched him creep toward a large liriope planting.
Suddenly he dove into the ground cover, muttering and murmuring, and then sprang up with something in his hands. “Oh man, I’ve got me a baby.”
“Oh my God, someone left a baby in my ground cover?”
“A baby cat, Charlotte,” Tig said with a chuckle. “See?”
Tig had the smallest, sweetest, teeniest black cat cradled in his hands.
“It can’t be more than a few weeks old. We need to get a nursing kit for it.”
When Charlotte gawked at him, he shrugged. “What? I grew up on a farm. Lots of barn cats whose mamas didn’t make it.”
“Oh, that’s so sad.”
Tig shrugged and wrapped the kitten in his shirttail. “Shall we go? I bet we can get it checked out by a vet if we hurry.”
Charlotte, wide-eyed, nodded, and they hurried back to the garage.
“She will be fine, Charlotte. Actually, she’ll probably be spoiled rotten when we get back.”
“Still . . .”
Tig kissed the back of Charlotte’s hand. “She’ll be fine.”
Charlotte made a conscious effort to put the worry about the baby kitten out of her head. Tig was right: Em and Mick would take care of her little Fiona. She inhaled a deep, calming breath and slowly blew it out.
Tig chuckled from the driver’s seat. “Baby, it’s not like you haven’t met everyone before.”
“Yeah, and they weren’t too impressed with me that time, either.”
Tig scoffed. “Fuck ’em. I’m telling you, if any of them are assholes, we’re leaving and that’s that.”
Charlotte appreciated his solidarity with her, but had some serious misgivings about coming between Tig and his family. He actually liked his parents.
“And another thing . . .”
“Oh boy,” Charlotte muttered.
“We’re sleeping in the guest room, together. Now, there can’t be any funny business, and you’re going to have to keep your hands to yourself, missy, but yeah, we’re sharing a bed.”
Charlotte harrumphed. “Don’t you think that will make it unnecessarily hard on you?”
“Nah. I can handle it.”
I’m sure glad you can, because I’m going to be wishing for something from my Happy Drawer to take the edge off, thought Charlotte.
“We’re going to drop by Neil’s first, okay?”
Charlotte nodded, and it was truly okay. Charlotte had a smidgeon of hope of winning Neil’s acceptance, and that she would definitely take.
They pulled onto a small country road and followed that until they saw a Airstream camper and a large covered horse ring beside it with Neil riding a horse inside.
They walked hand in hand over to the ring and watched Neil while he finished his exercises with the horse.
“Well, hey, you two,” Neil said as he dismounted. He led the horse over to the fence where Tig and Charlotte stood. “I didn’t expect you to be here this early.”
Tig chuckled. “Paddy cut m
e some slack.”
“You mean you were distracted, and he kicked you out of practice,” Neil said with a barked laugh.
“Yeah, pretty much.”
“Charlotte.” Neil inclined his head in greeting.
“Hi, Neil.” The three stood awkwardly, until Neil said that he needed to tend to the horse. Charlotte surprised him by asking Tig to take the horse so she could talk to Neil.
Neil cocked his head at Charlotte after Tig led the horse away. “You’re different than you were the last time we visited.”
“Yes, I am. But my feelings for Tig haven’t changed. Well, actually they have—they’re stronger.”
Neil cleared his throat. “You know it’s nothing personal, right?”
Charlotte nodded. “Same here. But you need to know that I’m going to support Tig in whatever he chooses to do, whether it’s fighting, or training horses, or being a peanut farmer, or whatever. It doesn’t matter what he does, as long as I’m a part of his life.”
Neil looked at the small woman across from him. She looked fierce. No, she was fierce. He had completely misjudged and underestimated her.
He huffed a laugh. “Understood.”
“Well, then, now that’s settled. I know Tig won’t tell you, but he’s qualified for a Round Robin fight in a month.”
“Well, that’s great.”
“He’s going down to bantamweight.”
“What?”
“So it’s as big of a deal as I thought, isn’t it?”
Neil scrubbed his face. “Well, he used to compete at bantamweight, but that was over ten years ago, and as tight as he is, that’s still a big cut.”
“Is it dangerous?”
“It can be. I’ve got faith in that crew that he’s with now, though. They’ll take care of him. I, uh, went up to the fight club a while back, talked to Paddy Doyle and that big fighter that owns it—Carmichael. They’re good people. Trustworthy fighters. Old school as far as values go. They’ll keep him safe.”
“That makes me feel better,” Charlotte said with an embarrassed smile. “I was trying to gauge whether I should throw a fit or not.”
Neil barked a laugh. “Oh boy. You are something else, Charlotte Markham.”
“Yes, she is.” Tig kissed Charlotte’s cheek, and when she offered him her mouth, he gave her a peck on the lips. “You two have your talk?”
“Yep.” Charlotte nodded and winked.
“Yep.” Neil grinned and nodded.
“Okay, then I guess that’s sorted. We need to head to the house, baby. Neil, talk to you soon, okay?”
“Okay, son. Take care.”
The couple walked back to Tig’s truck, and Neil watched them drive off.
“Good luck with Floyd, Charlotte honey. You’re going to need it,” Neil said softly. “You’re really going to need it.”
*****
Floyd did a double take when he walked by the guest room and saw two sets of overnight bags sitting on the bed.
“Hattie, did Tig bring some buddies down here?”
Hattie, Charlotte, and Tig were sitting around the kitchen table, chatting, when Floyd entered and repeated his question, this time directly to Tig.
Charlotte arched her eyebrows at Tig and gave him a look, which Tig steadfastly ignored.
“Just Charlotte.”
“Now, Tig, you know—”
“Nope. It’s not up for discussion, Floyd.”
“Now, this is my house, boy, and—”
“Floyd, you need to really think about what you’re about to say to me.” Tig leaned back in the hard kitchen chair, his arms relaxed at his side and his shoulders down, but Charlotte could feel his knee jiggling beside her thigh. She laid her hand discreetly on his leg and gave it a squeeze, and she heard Tig inhale a calming breath.
Floyd looked at Charlotte, who blinked back at him.
“Floyd, you got something you want to say to Charlotte?”
“Oh, boy, I got a whole lot I want to say,” Floyd spat with a mean laugh.
“Then say it.”
Charlotte moved her hand from Tig’s leg to his wrist where it rested on the table. “Tig, could you and Hattie give me a little time alone with your stepfather?”
Tig got ready to protest, but his mother laid her hand on his shoulder and shook her head at him. He pushed back from the table, but Charlotte could tell he did not like it by way he cupped her cheek in his hand before he followed his mother into the next room.
“Well, you need to say something to me?” Charlotte’s words came out clear and calm.
Floyd barked another laugh and blew out a breath. “You got some nerve, little girl, coming in here like you know something about us.”
Charlotte took a deep breath. “I’m not here to disrupt anything, Floyd, not at all. But I am going to tell you what I told Neil: I’m here for Tig and nothing and nobody else. I’m going to support him, whether he’s a fighter or a farmer or something completely different—”
Floyd interrupted her. “Damn right you’re going to support him; he sure as hell can’t make a living fighting.”
“He’s saved this farm from being taken by the bank. I call that ‘being able to live.’”
Floyd’s eyes widened and his jaw set. “Who told you that?”
“Tig didn’t have to tell me. He’s not going to risk his career and his place on the roster by fighting in unlicensed matches for fun.” Charlotte scoffed at Tig’s stepfather. “And he sure doesn’t have any money left over from those fights or from the legitimate matches that he’s won.”
“I took him in when no one in their right mind would have him or his mother. Hell, my father gave me hell about it, telling me I shouldn’t take care of that little piece of jailbait and her Gypsy spawn. But I did. And even though Tig’s the one that’s half Traveler, my own boy was the one that left—and one day, didn’t come back. But Tig made a promise to Tyler: he said he’d look after the farm when Tyler couldn’t. He has not kept that promise.”
Charlotte slapped the table. “He has kept that promise. How in the world can you not see that he has?”
“He’s not committed.”
“Of course he’s not. He wants to be a fighter, and he has a chance to do it, to live his dream. Surely you can understand that. Haven’t you ever had a dream?”
Floyd stared at Charlotte, his jaw ticking.
Charlotte huffed a small, sad laugh. “You did, didn’t you, Floyd? And for some reason, you didn’t get to pursue it. That’s what this is about.”
“No, this is about the wrong boy being in the ground. I’m done talking to you.” Floyd shook his head and stood up. “Hattie, I’m going until she leaves,” he called to his wife.
Charlotte remained alone in the kitchen, thinking, until Tig poked his head around the corner. “Charlotte, I’m going to turn in.”
She turned and saw Tig looking uncertain and anxious. She wondered how much of the conversation with Floyd Tig had heard.
“I’ll go with you, if you don’t mind.”
Tig smiled with relief.
After they were under the covers and in each other’s arms in the guest room, Charlotte whispered, “Would you tell me about Tyler?”
She felt Tig take a deep breath, and then he burrowed his head into her shoulder. She thought he was going to ignore her request, but finally he started talking. About what it was like growing up with Floyd as a father and Tyler as a brother and how things changed when Neil came into his life. About how Neil took Tyler under his wing when Floyd did not seem to have much time for his son. About Tyler’s wanderlust. And about his need for a constant adrenaline rush, which is why he decided to be a firefighter, knowing that his frequent scrapes with the law would most likely discourage anybody in county law enforcement from hiring him.
“So he died working?” Charlotte asked as she hugged Tig even tighter.
“No, he died while drag racing when he was off duty.” Tig huffed a sad laugh.
“Oh, Tig. I am so
sorry.”
“I was in the passenger seat.”
“Oh my God, Tig.”
“His buddies were the ones that rescued us. Well, rescued me. Cut me out of the car. Cut Tyler out, too, but it was already too late for him. That’s why Floyd says it was the wrong boy that died. It should have been me.”
“Tig . . .”
“It’s true. I had skipped school. I was a junior. Neil had been working with Tyler on his bronc riding, and—”
Charlotte interrupted him. “Wait. Tyler rode broncos? Like bucking broncos?”
“Yep. Remember, adrenaline junkie? Fighting fires, bronc riding, drag racing. If it got your heart pumping like crazy, he did it.”
Charlotte ran a flat palm over Tig’s back. “This is a memorial piece, huh?”
Tig nodded.
Oh, honey. “It’s beautiful,” she murmured into his ear and pressed her lips to his sweet face. “Thank you for telling me about him.”
“I miss him. I mean, there was a certain amount of hero worship going because, you know, badass bronco-riding, fire-fighting big brother, right? But he was a good guy. He had a big heart and would give you the shirt off his back if he thought you needed it.”
“What about the farm?”
“Oh, Tyler loved the farm. I mean, he took off and was gone for months at a time, but he was always back for plantings and harvests and to help when things got rough.”
“So things have been tough, financially, for a while?
Tig laughed. “Things are always tough for the little guys. But, yeah. Remember those floods back in the mid-1990s? Yeah, we got hit hard. I remember Floyd and Tyler arguing because Tyler wanted to quit high school and just work on the farm, but Floyd wouldn’t let him. So Tyler went and got his GED early. He worked hard and played harder; ergo, the problems with the law.”
Charlotte looked at Tig affectionately. “‘Ergo.’”
Tig’s smile flashed for a moment in the dark. “Hey, just because my accent makes me sound like an ignorant cracker, it doesn’t mean my vocabulary should reinforce that idea.”
“I like your accent. I find it . . . soothing.”
Tig snorted. “That is definitely a first.” He nestled further into Charlotte’s arms and yawned. Charlotte stroked his head until she heard his breathing change to that of deep sleep.