by Bijou Hunter
Bourbon Blues
Bijou Hunter
Copyright © 2016 Bijou Hunter
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.
*****
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
For more information about this series and author visit:
http://www.bijouhunterbooks.com
Cover Design
Photographer: NAS CRETIVES
Photo Source: Shutterstock
Dedication
Freckles, Tigger, Pooh, and Roo for shining light in a gloomy world
My own personal Mustang Sally for shaking sense into me on a regular basis
Saucy Sarah for being a beta reading babe
Naughty Nicole for making me smile when I want to sulk
Jazzy Jaimie for brainstorming with my dysfunctional self
Book Summary
I want Daisy Crest, and I always get what I want.
The name Camden Rutgers is golden in Hickory Creek Township, Tennessee. My father is the president of the Serrated Brotherhood MC. My mother is a member of local royalty.
More than my good name, I have the looks, money, and power to entice any woman to slide my Harley between her legs and take a ride. I expect the same response from Daisy when I make my move.
Let’s just say things didn’t go well.
For months, I assume Daisy will run back to me. Too bad she hates exercise and her ego refuses to let her grovel.
Frustrated with waiting, my heart demands I claim the quirky virgin. Daisy can hem and haw, play cold with my heart, and even try reasoning with me, but nothing will prevent her from becoming my Bourbon Babe.
Table of Contents
One - Camden
Two - Daisy
Three - Camden
Four - Daisy
Five - Camden
Six - Daisy
Seven - Camden
Eight - Daisy
Nine - Camden
Ten - Daisy
Eleven - Camden
Twelve - Daisy
Thirteen - Camden
Fourteen - Daisy
Fifteen - Daisy
Sixteen - Daisy
Seventeen - Camden
Eighteen - Daisy
Nineteen - Camden
Twenty - Camden
Twenty One - Daisy
Twenty Two - Camden
Twenty Three - Daisy
Twenty Four - Camden
Twenty Five - Daisy
Twenty Six - Camden
Twenty Seven - Daisy
Twenty Eight - Camden
Twenty Nine - Camden
Thirty - Daisy
Thirty One - Camden
Thirty Two - Daisy
Thirty Three - Daisy
Thirty Four - Camden
Thirty Five - Daisy
Thirty Six - Camden
Thirty Seven - Daisy
Thirty Eight - Camden
Thirty Nine - Daisy
Forty - Camden
Epilogue - Daisy
Epilogue - Camden
About Bijou
One - Camden
I’m a man unaccustomed to sitting on his ass and preaching patience. Call me spoiled, but I want what I want. I grew up as the son of two powerful families in a small town where everyone respected, adored, or feared me. I never knew hardship, so I never learned patience. Not until Daisy Crest.
Two months ago the bewitching brunette got herself liquored up something fierce, and her inner wild child broke loose at a party. I happened to be there to enjoy the sight and saw the opportunity to snuggle up with the girl I’d only known from a distance.
Less than thirty minutes after I talked her up, our lips devoured each other in the house’s tiny bathroom. Sweaty and giggling, Daisy only wanted me, and I was already addicted to her sweet flavor.
Out of nowhere, she flipped the switch on me and ran away like Cinderella bailing from the ball. I watched her disappear into the night, wondering what I’d done to make her run. The next day, I called her up. One message after another went unanswered until I accepted I’d been dissed by the one chick wearing a smile I needed to see.
A more mature man would’ve handled the situation better. He likely wouldn’t have blurted out the cock tease allegations to everyone he saw for the next few days. Immature or not, I’m a man who gets what he wants, and I really wanted Daisy.
I assumed the only reason she’d turn chilly on me was because my cousin is her sister’s baby daddy. Ruby and Bonn went down in flames years ago, and the sisters were still holding a grudge against our family.
My bud Bonn was the one to set me straight about the girl who dug her way into my system from a single hot night in the peak of summer.
“She’s insecure, dickhead,” was his helpful announcement. “And likely a virgin, so you banging her in the bathroom might of, oh, I don’t know, freaked her the fuck out.”
Once Bonn explained about Daisy’s shyness, the hunt was on. She hasn’t blown me off, and I still had a shot with her.
Winning Daisy’s affections ought to be easy enough. I scared off any man foolish enough to show her interest which wasn’t difficult since her taste in men proved pathetic. First, I drove away the gaming nerd. Then, I frightened the salesman with the hideous comb-over and freaky bright white smile. The instructor from a Nashville community college looked like a step up for her except he had three divorces in his back pocket and crippling alimony payments. Where was she meeting these fuckers?
Online dating was the answer. Apparently after this sexy biker spooked her two months earlier, Daisy decided to date any repulsive piece of crap who gave her profile a second glance. None of them were worthy of her, so I ran off each and every one with whatever rumor or scare tactic I could think of.
Daisy seemed none the wiser, but she also refused to return my calls. Bonn claimed he heard through the grapevine she was pissed I called her a chubby cock tease. While I hadn’t said a damn thing about her weight, the insult was somehow added to my original whine.
With Daisy pissed, I got stuck on the sidelines while she wasted time with online twerps.
Bored with the patience game, I do what any man like me would do. I sneak into the Lush Gardens Trailer Park and siphon the gas from her rundown car. Now she’ll need to take the bus to work where I’ll white knight my way back into her good graces and enjoy her perfect smile again.
Unfortunately, Daisy has her own plans.
Two - Daisy
I blame my diet for why I oversleep. Salad before bed never fools my stomach, and I woke at three with a growling gut. After indulging in a slice of cheese, I return to bed at four. Waking hours later proves difficult, and I stumble around my two-bedroom trailer trying to get my crap in order. I’d still be on time for work if my car wasn’t out of gas.
The Lush Gardens Trailer Park’s manager is my mom’s best friend’s husband. When my red Chevy Lumina Euro Sedan wouldn’t start months ago, Billy magically fixed it. Unfortunately, he’s a late sleeper, and I can’t wake him up just because someone siphoned the gas from my clunker.
My mother and two sisters live in the park, but they’ve already left for work. After bidding farewell to my three fur-babies and locking up the trailer, I nearly run the two blocks to where I’ll grab the first of three buses to get me to my job at the Suds N’ Sun Laundry and Tanning.
Waiting for the bus, I stu
dy the two grungy guys sitting on the stop’s bench. They hem and haw before offering me their space. When I say, "Thank you, but I’m fine," they look relieved. Chivalry isn’t dead, but it’s lazier.
Chewing wildly on sugar-free gum, I listen to Tears for Fears on my headphones. I’m wearing my usual Tuesday work clothes. With baggy black shorts over black stockings, I finish off my sloppy chic look with a t-shirt and black boots. Back in junior high, I realized I lacked any fashion sense. My older sister Ruby suggested I go hog-wild with my mismatched style choices and pretend I was quirky. A decade later and I was still dressing like a color-blind fashion reject.
Waiting for the bus under the increasingly warm sun, I daydream about one of two obsessions I nurse these days. The first compulsion revolves around how much I miss eating carbs. The second is the blond warrior now riding past me on his giant black Harley like a modern day Viking. As much as I long for carbs and Camden Rutgers, I detest them for being so bad for me.
Two months ago, I drank too many screwdrivers at Hannah Tripp’s birthday party and ended up climbing the giant local sex symbol. Like whenever I drink, things ended badly, and now I’m saddled with the reputation as a cock tease.
No, scratch that, I’m a chubby cock tease according to Camden. So now I’m forced to eat lots of rabbit food in my bid to lose the weight I once preferred attached to my curvy ass.
Camden Rutgers ruined my confident woman persona, and now I’m insecure like every other chick in the world. He’s a shithead, and I fucking hate him, but there’s no denying he’s the definition of smoking hot when his Harley circles before heading straight for the bus stop.
Tapping my foot to Duran Duran singing in my ear, I pretend not to notice him. The grungy guys on the bench enjoy donuts, and my stomach growls with jealousy. With so much temptation around me, I look at my phone and ignore Camden’s voice calling my name.
He turns off the Harley and climbs off. Next to me, the guys shrink at the sight of the approaching Hulk. I don’t blame them for wetting their boxers. Camden sports a height over six-four along with the wide, thick shoulders of a man capable of carrying their lifeless bodies to whatever shallow grave he has available.
“Hey, you,” he says, tapping my head.
“What?” I ask, fully selling my confusion about who this magnificent creature might be. “Are you Dayton or Camden?”
God blessed the world with two versions of the sex mountain before me. Dayton is considered the less mature of the two, but after Hannah’s party, Camden sucks pretty hard too.
“Camden,” he mutters, lifting his sunglasses onto his head and pushing back his thick blond mane.
“Oh, hello.”
“What are you doing waiting for a bus?”
“Is that a real question?”
“No, I guess not. Want a ride?”
I ought to receive an Oscar for the level of disinterest I sell with my shrug. “No.”
“Come on. I’ll get you to work faster than any bus.”
“No, I’m good.”
“It’ll be fun.”
“No.”
“You know you want to.”
Frowning, I mutter stronger, “No.”
“Sure, you do.”
“No.”
Camden gives me a smile, and I feel a hot swirl of longing in my gut. How can I defeat a man capable of breaking down my barriers with a single smile?
“Look, you and I both know you’ll say yes eventually. Why waste all this time?”
“No.”
“I’m a very good driver.”
“No.”
“I know how to get to your job.”
Crossing my arms, I look past him and down the road. “No.”
“The bus will be crowded.”
“No.”
“What are you chewing on?”
Startled by the question, I shrug. “Gum.”
“Can I have some?”
“It’s sugar-free.”
“Why?”
“Because I didn’t want sugar.”
“But you want a ride, don’t you?”
“No.”
“It’s hot out here,” he says, wiping sweat from his thick, tanned neck.
“No.”
“No, it’s not hot?”
“No.”
“I sense you’re upset. Wanna talk?”
Pulling my earplugs out, I glance at his Harley. “I’m surprised you’d want my fat ass on your precious bike. Aren’t you worried I’ll break it?”
“And there it is,” he says, tugging at the seam of my burgundy sleeveless shirt with the word “GEEK” printed across the front. “I want it stated for the record that I never said anything about your weight. That was all Brittany Sams. You know she has a bug up her ass about your sister, and I guess she figured starting shit about you was just as good as going after Harmony.”
The Brittany Sams thing sounds true. All through high school, the bitch hounded Harmony before turning around and claiming Harmony was stalking her. Okay, so maybe the chubby thing wasn’t Camden but…
“Did you call me a cock tease with a frozen pussy?”
Camden awkwardly shifts his stance. “I only called you a cock tease. The rest of that shit was added by troublemakers.”
“Poor you,” I mutter, glaring at him behind my sunglasses.
“Let me make it up to you by giving you a ride.”
“No.”
Camden crosses his strong arms and gives me a death glare. “I won’t take no for an answer, Daisy Bourbon Crest. Now you need to get your cute ass on my Harley.”
“No,” I say before frowning at the snickering grungy guys. I don’t know if they’re amused by his demands or my name, but I return my gaze back to Camden. “Go away.”
“I’ll pick you up and carry you to the Harley,” he threatens while wearing a smile that betrays his anger.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
“Why? And don’t say something about your weight because I think you look sexy as hell.”
I nearly smile at his compliment. After all, I’ve suffered greatly losing twenty pounds these last two months. I’d have lost even more if I didn’t repeatedly cheat. I blame my mom and sisters. They consume pizza like it’s at the bottom of the food pyramid.
“I have to pee,” I say when Camden makes a move for me. “If you jiggle me around, I might lose control of my bodily functions.”
“Are you threatening to pee on me?”
“Threatening is such an ugly word.”
As Camden studies me, his mahogany-colored eyes reveal several emotions. First, he’s irritated. Then, he’s amused. Finally, he seems curious.
“I’m calling your bluff,” he says, reaching for my waist.
“No, fine, I’ll get on myself. Just don’t touch me.”
A triumphant Camden steps aside. I jam my phone and glasses in my stripped backpack before hurrying to his Harley. The bike is as wide as a horse, and I fell off the only horse I’ve ever ridden.
Camden settles onto his Harley and holds out a hand for me. Ignoring his attempted helpfulness, I fumble onto the bike. His blue shirt stretches across his back in the sexiest way, but I refuse to touch it.
“Babe,” he says, looking over his shoulder at me, “I get you’re pissed and all that jazz, but if you don’t hold onto me, you’ll fly off at the first turn. Chances are your mighty anger won’t blunt the fall either.”
“Okay, but don’t take any touching personally.”
“Fuck that. If you so much as breathe on me, I’m assuming you want sex.”
After rolling my eyes as he laughs at my few attempts to wrap my arms around him, I finally get comfortable.
“Don’t drive too fast.”
“Okay,” he says, turning on his roaring beast.
I clench his shirt in my hands and bury my face in his muscular back. As much as I want to look cool, I’m scared to fall off the Harley. My tolerance for pain is so slim I cry when I trip over my
cats and fall on the carpeted floor.
I can’t tell if Camden is driving slow or speeding. Either way, my bladder aches in terror. My eyes remain closed since the world flies by too quickly on the Harley like it never does when I drive my crap car.
Minutes later, we arrive at the Suds N’ Sun Laundry and Tanning, and I instantly climb off of the Harley. Just as instantly, I lose my balance and tumble on my ass.
“Smooth move, Bourbon Babe.”
I ignore his outstretched hand and stand on my own. “Thanks for the ride.”
“Want me to pick you up? We can go somewhere and talk.”
“No.”
“Don’t start that again.”
“Or what?”
Camden lifts an eyebrow, and I wonder if I’ve challenged his ego.
“Thanks for the ride,” I say again.
“Let me pick you up and take you out.”
I ball up all of the confidence I’ve accumulated over my twenty-five years and stare right into his perfect eyes.
“Look here, big guy. We had some fun that night, but all the kissing was because of booze, not genuine interest. Why did you think I didn’t call you?”
“Because you’re shy and figured you embarrassed yourself by running out of the party.”
Rolling my eyes, I hate how he’s right. “No, because you and I aren’t anything except a drunken mistake. Nothing personal. You're not my type any more than I’m yours.”
“Babe, you don’t know my type.”
“Fine. You’re not my type.”
“Who is?”
I detect a hint of male possessiveness in his question. Camden Rutgers isn’t accustomed to men taking his property.
“Shy, goofy guys with dumb hair and overbites.”
“That’s a pretty fucking specific description. What’s the fucker’s name?”
“Gaylon Longdong,” I say because my brain shorted out from the earlier lying. Camden laughs while I take a step back, but I only mumble, “Thanks again for the ride.”
“You keep saying that.”
“It’s my attempt to ditch you, Camden.”
“I think we should go out after work and talk about how I’m a jackass for calling you a cock tease, and how you want to forgive me since I’m a great kisser.”