by Mandi Beck
“He's not positive and he wants to wait to do the paternity thing. Something about testing now being dangerous for the baby. So he's paying all her medical and whatever else she fucking needs.”
I agree, “Yeah, it can be really dangerous for the baby and mom. Best to wait.”
“Did you?”
“Did I what?”
“Wait until Lyric was born to have the paternity test? How does that even work?”
I shake my head, confused. “I never got a paternity test.”
Stone straightens in his seat, setting his sandwich down before leaning in and asking quietly, “What do you mean you didn't have one? So there's a chance she's mine?” His voice is hopeful, making me feel bad.
“No, Stone. There's no chance.”
“How can you be so sure, Birdie? Let's schedule one. What if she's ours?” The hopefulness in his voice is laced with excitement as he goes to stand. With a hand on his forearm I stop him.
“Stone, for almost a year I made you wear protection on top of me being on the pill,” I remind him gently. “And before that night we hadn’t slept together in more than four months,” I remind him.
“What? It was that long? And I thought you told me you stopped taking the pill?” he asks confused.
I flush with guilt. I had lied to him, but I had done so because I knew he had been lying to me. “I had to, Stone. I knew you were using, I didn’t know what though, and then I knew there were other girls. I didn’t want to take any chances, And eventually I did stop taking it. It seemed pointless to keep taking it when I didn’t need it.” I murmur a little broken heartedly. I won’t be sorry for lying. His sins are way more serious than mine.
“Fuck. Willow, I never would have fucked around had I not been high. You have to believe me,” he whispers earnestly, reaching for my hands. “I never looked at another woman in all the years we’ve been together, never even fucking wanted to. I wasn’t me when I was using, Birdie. I have no idea who that fucking guy even was. But it wasn’t me.”
“I understand that, but that fact is—”My voice is starting to rise so I stop speaking. “You know what? This isn’t the time nor the place for this discussion. We can talk about it all another time. In fact, we need to if we’re ever going to be able to be friends again and not have this anger and resentment between us.” I had been looking at a spot right over his shoulder, watching for someone to be listening in on our conversation, but bring my gaze to his when he starts speaking.
“You’re cute.”
“Wh-what?” I stammer, baffled by his abrupt one eighty.
“You’re cute. You think we’re gonna be friends.” With a dangerous glint in his eyes he leans back in his chair stacking his hands behind his head, making his biceps bulge, his ink rippling over the muscles. Just watching me, a sly grin on his too damn handsome face.
“I’m not looking for a boyfriend, Stone.”
“If I was your boyfriend, I’d never let you go,” He sings softly.
“Oh. My. Jesus. Did you just sing Justin Beiber to me?” leaves my mouth on a strangled laugh. His smile widens and he shrugs, “Is it too late now to say sorry? ‘Cause I’m missing more than just your body . . .” He sings with a semi straight face, which is more than I can say for myself. I burst out laughing, spilling my chai in the process. I may have even snorted a little.
“Shhhh, you’re causing a scene, piggy,” Stone says through his own laughter.
Looking around, I see that we have drawn some curious glances. “Why do you even know Justin Beiber songs?” The question sets me off into another fit of giggles.
“The Beibs is an amazing musician and artist, Willow. You should learn to appreciate good music,” he deadpans before losing it again.
“Yeah, well, you’re going to have to do a hell of a lot better than some weak ass Beiber to win me over,” I toss out, not thinking.
“Is that right? That a challenge, Birdie?” The dare is there in his voice.
“That’s a fact, Jack,” I volley.
“Original or cover?”
“Either. No, both.” Screw it. Go big or go home, right?
“And what do I win if you approve?”
Swallowing a little nervously, I shrug. “Whatever you want,” I say, stupidly. Or maybe not so stupidly.
“I accept,” Stone says, that wicked glint in his eyes the most wicked I’ve ever seen. His smirk, reckless and way too sexy. I believe I just made a deal with the devil.
Stone
I’M COMING DOWN THE STAIRS, pulling my phone out of my pocket to call Wills when it rings. Smiling I answer,
“I was just getting ready to call you, Birdie. What are you doing tonight? I haven’t seen you two ladies in a couple days. Let me take you to dinner.” With the phone tucked against my ear, I snatch my guitar out of the stand and head out to the patio and flop down on the lounger.
“I can’t tonight, I have a set at The Dirty Bird,” she answers.
“Can I come? Maybe we can sing together again. No fucking Johnnyswim though; that shit’s depressing.” Leaning my arms across the top of my ratty ass Fender, I grab a cigarette off the end table and fire it up.
Willow laughs. “It is not depressing. And maybe. But I was wondering if you and the guys want to come over to Bear and Cora’s for a little barbecue?”
“Does Bear know you’re inviting me to his house?” I ask jokingly, but serious.
“Of course he does. Bear’s the one who said to call you guys. It’s nothing big, just some people from the bar, his brother, and his family. It’ll be fun.” She rushes on to say, “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”
“No. I’m in. What time?” Taking a drag off my forgotten cigarette, I put the phone on speaker and start texting Law.
“We’ll eat at one so that those of us who have to work tonight have time before our shifts.”
I fucking hate that she feels the need to work. And hard. Between The Dirty Bird and school, she’s always working. She puts in a ton of hours at the school, but she loves it so damn much and so does Lyric.
“Text me the address. We’ll be there. Do you need me to pick you up? Or watch Lyric tonight?” I ask her, hopeful. I would love to get a chance to spend more time with her.
“No. Perry is watching her tonight. Plus, I thought you were gonna come sing sad songs with me.” Her voice is playful, almost flirty. It gives me butterflies like a fucking thirteen-year-old girl. Pussy.
“Sold. I’ll be there. Do I need to bring anything? Case of beer, chips, or some shit?”
“Nope. Just yourselves. I gotta go, Lyric just got up. I’ll see you in a bit.” She hangs up and I laugh.
“Bye, Birdie.”
We leave Dane at the house—he’s not a friendly guy. He wants to do his job and be done. He’s been with us for years and he’s still like that, so we don’t try to change him.
“Is that it, Judge?” Law asks from the back, pointing over his brother’s shoulder.
“Yeah. Gotta be,” I answer, checking the address on the house to what Wills texted. I’m certain when I see her Jeep parked in the drive.
After finding a spot to park down the street, we walk to the house and knock on the door. Nobody answers so we go out to the back where we can hear voices. The house is on an awesome little lake, gravel drive, big front porch. And the yard is packed.
“Holy shit,” Arrow says from behind me.
“Willow said it was nothing big.”
“Yeah, well, she lied,” Law says, slapping my back and moving around me to enter the party. We follow behind him, stopping and shaking hands as people introduce themselves. Finally, we make it through the throng to the area where the tables are set up. I catch sight of Willow sitting there, Lyric in her lap as she talks to Cora. She throws her head back and laughs at something her friend says, making Lyric laugh too, and the sight warms me from the inside out like nothing ever has before. Protection and love surge through me. These are my girls. Paternity be fuc
king damned, man. Willow must feel me watching her as she lowers her hand and scans the group, the smile on her face real. She’s found a place for herself here. With these people. As much as that hurts my fucking heart, it also makes me so happy that she had them when I failed her.
Her eyes land on me and her grin widens. Willow waves me over. Turning to Judge, I swat his chest with the back of my hand. “Found her, come on.”
She stands, shifting Lyric to her hip when we get there.
“Hey, guys,” she greets brightly. The boys all take turns giving her a hug. When she finally gets to me, I wrap my arms around them both, laying a kiss to Willow’s temple. Glad that she lets me because I would have caused a scene if she hadn’t. Pulling back, I hold my arms out to Lyric. She hesitates at first but then reaches for me. Willow’s never really let me hold her unless she’s asleep so this is a huge step, for both of us. I tickle her and talk some nonsense about buying her a pony or some shit when I glance up to find five sets of eyes on me, but Willow’s are the ones that I focus on. Bright with unshed tears.
“You okay, Birdie?” I ask bringing my attention back to Lyric who is now trying to get the hat off my head.
“Y-yes,” she stammers. Still watching. All of them still watching. I’m about to ask them why when Cora speaks, breaking the silence.
“So you must be Arrow, eh?”
Ro steps forward and holds out his hand. “Nice to finally meet you. Willow has told me a ton about you,” he says in that smooth guy voice of his. Bear’s gonna beat his ass if he hears that shit. I grin at the thought. I’m broody and moody because I’m a prick. Arrow is more of a broody fucker because it gets him chicks.
“The quiet, mysterious one of the group, I see,” Cora says a little coyly.
“Gotta keep the ladies on their toes; can’t make it too easy,” Arrow tells her, winking.
About that time Bear comes up behind his wife. “You got something in your eye, Bow?”
I clamp my lip between my teeth to stop from laughing. Willow looks at me, the amusement on her face mirroring my own.
“Bear, you remember Arrow, right?” I ask innocently. Knowing damn well he does.
“Bow, Arrow. Same shit. Did you just wink at my wife?” His eyes are narrowed, waiting for an answer.
Arrow glances at me, then at Judge, not quite sure what the fuck he should do. I just shrug, tilting my head in Lyric’s direction as if to say, “You throw down and you’re on your own, bro. I’ve got a baby.”
“Umm, not really at her. Just in general?” Ro states it as a question and I lose my shit. I can’t help it. I laugh so loud I startle Lyric. My laughing sets off the rest of our little group. Arrow looks between all of us and then flips us the bird. “Man, I thought Paul Bunyan over here was gonna chew my ass up,” he says, shaking his head at us and our teasing.
“No, but you wink at my wife again and I might. She’s a cougar, likes them young and mysterious. Ain’t that right, baby?” Bear gathers Cora close and squeezes her from behind.
“That's right. I like the quiet ones; they're the ones you have to watch out for,” she teases. Yelping when her husband smacks her ass. I look over at Willow, who watches them, smiling, and it dawns on me that these two are literally the only happily married couple I fucking know. That we know! Her parents are gone, her aunt never married, I've not seen my dad since I was three, my mom since a few years after that. Hell, even Law and Judge’s dad died when they were small and their mom never remarried. And we think Arrow is the second Christ because his mom swears she wasn't even sleeping with anyone and one day she woke up pregnant. His mom is also very free loving and a bit of a modern day hippy, so who the fuck knows? He could be like the son of Steven Tyler or some shit.
“If you guys are done flirting with my wife, food’s done,” Bear says, taking Cora’s hand and walking over to the tables they have set up with grub.
Willow reaches for Lyric. “I’ll take her. You go ahead and make your plate.”
“It’s okay, Wills. I’ve got her. You go make plates. You know what I like.” I wink at her. “I’ll save us some seats.” With Lyric in my arms I take her little hand and wave at Willow. “Bye, Mommy,” and go sit us down while the guys head for the eats and Wills stands and just watches me for a minute before following.
“Mind if I sit?” Perry asks, sitting before I can answer. “You look good with a baby,” she says. I can tell that she has shit to get off her chest.
“What’s up, Perry? I can see you wanna say something, so go ahead. But if you’re gonna say some shit like, ‘Stay away from Wills and Lyric,’ save your breath, it ain’t happening.” I look down at Lyric, playing with my fingers and then back at Perry with raised eyebrows.
“Do you love her?” she asks without preamble.
“I do.”
“Are you clean?”
“I am.”
“Do you promise to never hurt her again? Hurt them?”
“I promise to try.”
Nodding in acceptance she smiles. “Well, then I came over here to tell you that I would like to be friends. You’re probably pissed at me for keeping her hidden away here, but I was doing it for her and I would do it again.”
“No need to apologize. In fact, I’d like to thank you. Thank you for taking care of her when I couldn’t and for helping her to build a life here for the two of them. She’s the strongest woman I know, but even the strongest people need help to hold them up sometimes. So thank you,” I tell her sincerely.
“Wow. You’re good,” Perry says in awe. “No wonder she gets that deer-caught-in-headlights look whenever you’re around. Willow doesn’t stand a chance.” She laughs heartily. “I love it.” Popping up she points at me. “Be good to my girls.”
“I will be good . . . to my girls.” I grin, loving the way that sounds and too fucking ready to make it happen.
The boys decide that they’re coming to The Dirty Bird. I tell them to go ahead, that we’ll meet them there so Willow and I can stop at her place so she can change.
“Do you mind if we go to my house and grab my Fender? I need to rip. You’re turning me into a pussy. All these ballads lately, making me feel feelings and shit,” I joke. “Seriously though, you’re fucking killing me. I need to get dirty.”
Willow laughs at me; she’s doing that a lot lately. “Yes, we can stop for your baby. It is the baby, right? You didn’t get a new one?” she asks, pulling up in front of her house.
“A new Fender? Woman, bite your damn tongue. Never.” I’ve had the same electric guitar since I was eighteen. Bought it from some pawn shop in nowhere Ohio, in some place that looked straight out of a Rob Zombie movie. The guy there told me it was some famous rock star’s and I grinned, gave him every penny I had, and told him, “It’s going to be.” It’s rough as hell, beat to shit, just like me, and I love it.
“I didn’t think so. I’m going to have to bury your ass with that thing.” She lets us in the house. “Sit. I’ll be down in five minutes,” Willow orders me as she bolts up the stairs. I look around her house, at all the little touches that are so Birdie and then wander upstairs to look at Lyrics nursery. It’s hands down the coolest nursery ever. Pulling my phone out I snap a couple pictures to show the designer. I want to recreate this exact room for her at my place. I slide my phone in the back pocket of my jeans and walk casually down the hall to what I guess is Willow’s room. With just a fingertip I push open the door, grabbing hold of the top of the doorframe, leaning forward and watching her flit around the room, no clue that I’m standing there. She’s in a pair of low slung, ripped up jeans, a pair of boots just like mine except girlier, and a black lace tank top thing with a giant skull on the front, birds and roses spilling from its head. Just like a million times before, I watch her flip her head upside down and shake out her hair, making it look wild, giving her that just-fucked look that makes me want to do just that. With quick steps she goes over to the dresser and slips in her earrings. She’s added dark liner to her eye
s, making them glow. As she’s puckered up, putting on her red lipstick, lipstick that’s stained my cock on more than one occasion, she sees me in the mirror.
“Was I taking too long?” she asks a little breathless.
“Nope.”
“Oh. Well, I’m ready now.” With one more swipe over her mouth she covers the beauty mark that dots the center of her bottom lip making me have to adjust myself thinking about all the times I’d wiped off the pretty color at the end of the night just to see it. “Stop looking at me like that,” Willow demands.
“Like what?” I ask innocently. Feeling anything but. I don’t bother adjusting this time, letting my cock swell against my fly, the piercing biting into me and evident, I’m sure, against the soft denim.
“Like you want to eat me.”
“I do want to eat you,” I tell her in a throaty voice as she sidles past me.
“Don’t, Stone.”
“Don’t what, Birdie?” Following her down the stairs, I watch her ass sway.
“You know what.” She grabs her leather jacket out of the front hall closet and turns her back on me to slip it on. While she’s faced away, I slide my hand into her back pocket, molding my fingers and palm to the rounded cheek. She startles and then stills.
“What are you doing?” Willow practically hisses.
“Your phone was coming out of your pocket,” I say casually.
She raises her arm in the air, her phone clutched in her hand.
“Oh, well, it must have been something else then. My bad.” Like I didn’t just get caught up in the moment and totally feel her up, I slide my hand out and ask, “Should we go?”
Willow glares at me over her shoulder and walks out the front door leaving me to follow. And I do, grinning all the way.
Willow
STONE RUNS INTO THE HOUSE to grab his Fender while I wait in the car. We’re running late as it is, and I don’t trust going in with him after what went on at my place just now. He can’t help himself anymore than I can help responding to him.