by Bijou Hunter
Justice thinks about my wording and then snickers at the meaning. “Positive feelings, huh? I wonder if you’ll get any in return. He seems like a greedy guy if you catch my drift.”
“What are you talking about?” Matilda asks.
“Candy,” I say, wanting her to shut up. “Watch TV.”
Matilda stares at me, and I stare back at her. If she wants my crown, she better plan to earn it. I give nothing easily to anyone. Well, maybe hugs, but that’s only for my family.
“So you don’t think he’ll be good?” I ask Justice.
“Who knows? I mean, he’s not Court.”
“Yes, we know you love your husband. You’ve mentioned it on an occasion or two.”
“He’s a pretty special guy.”
Rolling my eyes, I wish Journey were around to give me a little no-nonsense advice. Or Mom might fill my head with sugar coated dreams. Justice talking about her hot man doesn’t help me in the least.
“Just have fun,” Justice says, finishing with Matilda’s hair. “That’s what I did with Court. I didn’t really think about what any of it meant. I had fun and enjoyed my time with him, and everything fell into place.”
“That easy, huh?”
“Yeah, well, look at Journey and Donovan. They spent a lot of time thinking about stuff, and that just caused a whole lot of brain cramps. Best to think less and enjoy life more.”
“Sounds easy and I’ve always been a fan of the lazy route.”
Justice stands up and looks me over. “What do you think a cutoff shirt says to Emmett?”
“It’s hot out,” I say, running my fingers over my bare belly.
“He’s gonna look at that shirt and think of easy access.”
Frowning, I shrug. “I don’t care.”
“It’ll also seem like you’re trying too hard.”
“Well, I can’t have that,” I mutter, walking to my room for a new shirt. “I want him to think I’m only around as long as he behaves. Not that I worship him.”
“You’re thinking too much.”
“I can’t be dumb on command,” I say and then ask, “What’s that like anyway?”
Justice ignores me while searching my closet. She eventually pulls a sleeveless jersey-style shirt out of my dresser.
“Casual while also tight enough to make your boobs exist.”
I look down at my smallish breasts. They exist just fine without the help of a snug shirt. I still take it from Justice and change. Her advice feels wrong on every level, but there’s no denying she claimed herself a handsome man. Apparently, the dummy knows her stuff.
We talk about her work at the Rite-Rock Mart, and I nod as if I care about staffing issues when my mind is only on the time.
The first Harley I hear is Jared’s. He waltzes into the house like he lives here, even though he and Mom still pretend only to be casually dating.
“Why don’t you move in?” I ask while he looks through the fridge for something to eat.
“I have my own place.”
“You’re never there.”
“No, I guess, I’m not. Are you asking for you or your mom?”
“Mom doesn't want you to move in. She says you’re awful and she’s pretty sure she’ll dump you once the sex gets dull.”
“So I’m safe for a long while then?” he says, smiling at his sexual powers. “Do we have any leftovers? I could have sworn Journey sent over chili yesterday.”
“I think Court ate it.”
Jared closes the fridge and frowns at Justice sitting in the living room with Matilda and Felix.
“Why is Court always over here eating?” Jared asks his youngest daughter.
“I don’t like cooking.”
“Can’t you get leftovers from Journey instead of eating ours?”
“You don’t live here,” Justice says, and I nod in agreement.
“That’s not the point.”
“We ate our leftovers. Do you want Court to starve?”
Jared wants to give her crap. I don’t blame him, but he’s a wuss with the kids staring at him. Felix has a bitchy teenager expression plastered on his face. I shake my head at how much he imitates me. The kid needs to stop being such a copycat and get his own rude routine.
I hear another approaching Harley, and my heart beats a little faster. Just a little since I’m a cool chick and not a hormone-driven teenager anymore. A few days really makes a big difference in the scheme of things.
“It’s Court,” Justice tells me. “I know the sound of his Harley. Well, my body does anyway.”
She winks at me before noticing Felix frowning at her. She glares back at him.
“Don’t start, child. I have no patience for boys with bad attitudes.”
“Whatever,” he says, turning away.
Matilda stares at her brother and then at her faux mother before finally staring at me.
“What?”
“Whatever,” she says, sounding freakishly like her brother.
I’m about ready to go nuclear on these people. Then I hear another Harley, and my rage subsides. With Jared standing next to me, Court scavenging the countryside for food, and Donovan napping with Ike, I know only one man could be rumbling up to our house.
“I’ll be home late. Don’t wait up,” I say.
Justice snorts. “No way are you coming home without an interrogation unit waiting for you. In fact, you’d be smart to expect many questions, young lady. I might even flip you upside down to check for any foreign scents. If you get my drift.”
“No,” Jared instantly says. “You better not smell like Emmett in any way.”
“How can I rub up against him all night and not smell like him?”
Justice smiles at her father’s grumpy expression before focusing on me. “You could shower at his place before coming home.”
“Nope. Nu-uh. Not happening,” Jared says, walking to the door.
“What are you doing?” I ask, grabbing his arm.
“I want to have a chat with Emmett.”
“Nope. Nu-uh. Not happening. You had all day to hunt him down and make manly threats. Now that he’s here to pick me up, you’ll need to behave. I have dreams that can’t be interfered with or else I’ll unleash a hellish tantrum of which mankind has never witnessed.”
Jared frowns down at me, and I wonder if anyone has ever found this man scary. I mean in theory, I guess, I understand the impulse to be afraid of a big biker man. However, Jared is too much of a dad for me to see him as a threat to anything besides my curfew.
“Fine,” Jared says, backing down like a good housebroken puppy.
I’m impressed by my powers until I catch him texting someone. Outside, Emmett sits on his Harley, reading his phone. I glare at Jared, who shrugs and walks toward the back door.
“I’m going to Journey’s to find something to eat.”
“You could take us out to dinner,” Justice offers. “I wouldn’t say no to free food.”
Jared pauses, uncertain if giving into his daughter is a smart move. While he thinks about the long-term effects of bowing to Justice, I study the man outside.
Emmett looks good in a black T-shirt too small for his big frame. I see how his thick muscles ride up the short sleeves. He’s wearing a pair of black jeans and black boots. Altogether, he’s a picture of menacing perfection.
Glancing down at my shirt, I wonder if I look too dressed down for our date. Then I decide he’s overdressed for miniature golf.
“Wish me luck,” I say to Justice who’s staring at her dad as if she might psychically take control of his mind and force him to feed her.
“You don’t need luck. You’re Poppy and were born under a lucky star.”
Smiling, I quickly ruffle her hair and wish her good luck on scoring a free meal. Heading outside, I find Emmett on the porch. His hand hovers over the doorbell even after I stand before him.
“Are you stuck?”
“You look better than candy,” he mumbles, staring with dark eyes fu
ll of an emotion I assume is admiration rather than animal lust. “And I really like candy.”
“If you want to enjoy our date, we best get going before Jared decides to play daddy and make you promise to bring me home with my virtue intact.”
Emmett finally stops devouring me with his gaze and gestures for me to join him. We walk to the Harley where I slide comfortably behind him. His body and mine fit snugly together like two of Ike’s LEGOs.
The ride from my place to the golf course takes twenty minutes on the main roads, but Emmett uses short cuts through sketchy alleys and back lanes.
Arriving quickly, I frown at how the course is decked out with bling. The Rockwell folks try so hard to seem high-class that they come off as posers.
Emmett pays for us and gives me a red ball. Considering how particular he is about me having that color, I suspect someone told him it’s my favorite. The look on his handsome face is too fricking earnest for me to explain how I prefer blue.
We take our time at the first hole, getting used to the clubs as an excuse to bump into each other.
By the second hole, Emmett makes a move to kiss me more than once. I dodge him effortlessly. Blowing off people is my gift, and I share it daily.
“This course is so much better than the one in Rock Top Falls that reeks of redneck indifference,” I say, standing close to him, so he knows my avoidance of his lips isn’t personal. I just don’t believe in giving away anything for free.
Emmett strokes my hair. “Rockwell smells rich. I don’t know how to feel about that. Like should I wear a tie to take a dump here?”
“Do you own a tie?”
“Of course.”
“Why?”
“I go to funerals sometimes,” he says, giving me a shrug.
“For fun?”
“I had some people die back in Charleston.”
“I’m sorry. Were they anyone important?”
“No.”
“Then I’m only a little sorry.”
“Sorry enough to get a kiss?” he pushes, really wanting some lip action.
“Okay, but I insist the kiss be quick and leave you unsatisfied.”
Emmett leans down and brushes his lips against mine. Before I might think he’s gone soft on me, he wraps a hand around my back and covers my mouth with his. The heat of his probing tongue sends hot shivers through my body until I’m a little unsure where we are or why I’m still dressed.
I hear someone clear her throat boorishly loud behind us. “Can you stop whoring up the course and get out of our way?”
“Ignore them,” I tell Emmett, stepping back from his magnetic lips. “We paid to be here, so we’ll take our time.”
The girl whispers to her thick-necked boyfriend while I leisurely swing my club. Rather than ignoring them, Emmett glares hard at the guy.
“No hurries. No worries,” I say casually and pat his hard chest.
Emmett is solely focused on ripping off the guy’s head until my hand makes contact with his chest.
“What?” he says, awakening from an angry trance.
“I was just saying my sisters have tall men. Are you tall?”
Emmett thinks about my babble for long enough to forget about the bitch and assface behind us. Too bad they didn’t stop thinking about us.
“Isn’t your sister the snitch from Tumbling Rock?” the bitch asks.
I smile at her and step closer. “I’m an agreeable person, but if you talk shit about my sister again, I’ll have to slap the ugly off your face. Considering the overbite you’re sporting, I’ll probably have to slap you more than once.”
The bitch is rich, and her weapon is smack talk. My weapon is the club in my hand. Her boyfriend is just as spoiled as she is, and he doesn’t look ready to get pounded by Emmett. They decide to leave before things get real.
“That was fucking sexy,” Emmett says after they hurry away. “Too bad they left. I wanted to see a cat fight.”
“It wouldn’t last long. She’s all talk, and I’ve been learning cool moves from the family.”
“What kind of moves?”
“Fight moves, perv.”
“Is Jared teaching you?”
“He and Journey are working with me on fighting. Court taught me about knives and using what’s handy as a weapon. Donovan has taken me to the shooting range a few times. I used to rely on Journey to save me from trouble, but she got pregnant, and that’s not a cool way to fight. So I am learning. I’m not great, but I could take that bitch. I also know how to handle the local cops. Donovan told me how to claim I’m being picked on because they hate snitches. He says that’ll scare them off.”
“Huh, Court and Donovan never said anything about training you. Ain’t surprised Jared didn’t share. The older guys don’t chat, and he acts like you’re one of his kids and I ought to stay the fuck away.”
Nodding, I pat his chest again. “Jared has a point. You’re an appalling influence.”
“I ain’t taught you nothing yet. Once you’re in my bed, he might have a point.”
“We’ll see,” I say, turning away dismissively. “You’ll need to earn your prize, big man. Nothing in life is easy.”
“That ain’t true. I know plenty of easy women.”
“I bet they say the same thing about you, but I’m not easy. I’m worth jumping through some fricking hoops.”
“That you are,” Emmett says, leaning down to nuzzle my neck.
I ignore his touch, knowing it has too much power. If I give into the heat between us too soon, I’ll lose the upper hand. There’s no denying I really enjoy having power. Soon, he’ll be the one in charge, and it’ll be my job to keep up.
9 Train Wrecks - Emmett
Poppy leaves me feeling strange. She’s both a kid and a woman. One second, she looks nervous like a girl on her first date. The next second, she seems too mature for me to keep up. I don’t even know what she’s talking about when she spouts off about world events. She mentions a civil war in a country that I didn’t know existed. Hell, I couldn’t even figure out what continent the fucking place might be.
Before the date, Jared reminded me how Poppy is eighteen and I’m not. He also reminded me how he’s seen the inside of prison and wasn’t against returning if the need arose. I got the threat, but he’s all wrong about my intentions.
Yeah, I want to fuck Poppy. She’s the hottest woman in the world, and I’ve seen some sweet tail. What Jared and everyone else doesn’t get is how Poppy makes all of me feel good, not just my dick.
She has a wild laugh. When I make her break loose with the giggles after making fun of some guy’s hair, I feel like Larry the Cable Guy. No one is funnier in the world than me at that moment.
When she checks me out and thinks I don’t know she’s checking me out, I feel like a sex god.
Poppy draws men’s attention everywhere we go. They can’t stop looking, despite me flashing evil glares and a hint of my knife. Poppy is a wet dream come to life, and many men would worship the ground she walks on.
But she only has eyes for me.
We stop playing miniature golf to get a drink at the concession stand. She sits across from me with one of her long legs crossed over the other. Her foot swings to the beat, occasionally tapping my calf. I want to reach out and touch her lips. Or her cheeks or her chin or every inch of her until she’s been thoroughly marked.
I keep my hands to myself because I sense she’s testing me. I don’t know how the grading system works in her head, but I have every intention of passing with flying marks. I was a great student when I needed to be. After ignoring class most days, I’d crammed the night before important tests. I’d always get enough questions right not to fail. That’s how I work. I may not want to learn, but I can fake my way through most shit.
“Do you plan to keep working for your mom?” I ask because that’s the kind of question she probably wants.
“Not really. Animals are great, but I spend most of my time cleaning up pee and poo. I also don�
�t like having my mom as my boss. She’s too nice to me, and I have to be nice to her. I was really looking forward to hating my boss, so she’s crapped all over that plan.”
“So what do you want to do?”
“You sound like my dad.”
“Can’t have that. Doesn’t he have some health issue?”
Poppy stops sucking at her straw and narrows her eyes at me. “What?”
“I don’t know. I heard he has a gland problem or something. I don’t know medicine.”
“He’s fat, okay? The gland thing is something I might have said to hide the fact that he’s fat, but he’s just fat. He likes to eat bacon and fried crap. He’s fat, and that’s okay and stop judging him.”
“Are you about to cry?” I ask, needing to tease her after such a declaration.
“Maybe. I’m a delicate flower with many emotions and just a hint of crazy. You’d be smart to watch yourself with me.”
“I bet I could take you in a fight.”
“I cheat.”
“So do I.”
Poppy gives me a lazy smile. “Of course, you do. Anything to win, right, Hoss.”
“When you call me that, I think of my dad.”
“When I call you that, I think of your dad too. He’s a real stud.”
Rolling my eyes, I cross my arms and flex my muscles.
“Save the intimidation for another woman. Nothing scares me.”
“You’re so full of shit.”
“Of course. Would you really want me to be straight with you?”
“Sure.”
“And talk about my feelings and insecurities?”
“Sure,” I say with less enthusiasm.
“And you want to listen to me cry and hand me tissues for all of the snot that ensues from my tears.”
“Sounds great.”
“And if I get too upset, I sometimes puke. Will you hold my hair while I vomit cry?”
“Never been more turned on.”
Poppy laughs at my bravado. “Great. So let’s start with my reaction to my first period and go from there.”
“Excellent. How old were you?”
Smiling brightly, she nods. “Well played.”