Vagrant: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance

by Voss, Deja

  “Maybe, but this is important to me. I want to meet your friends. I want to see what your life is like when I’m not around. I want to be a part of your world. My guys will be fine. You’ll just have to bring them an extra bag of M&Ms or something tomorrow.”

  “At this rate, I swear they’re gonna be diabetic by the time I’m done with them,” she laughs, shaking her head, tossing on a sundress and gathering up her caddy of shower supplies.

  “You started it,” I say, shrugging.

  “I might as well be a walking piñata.”

  I lift up the back of her dress and plant a firm smack on her ass. She squeals. “I was just checking to make sure candy doesn’t come out when I hit you.”

  “Fuck you, you fucking tease,” she says, pouting. “I’ll be in the shower.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Molly:

  It’s really kind of adorable seeing how nervous Tucker is as we sit in the booth at Benny’s waiting for Cheryl. I know she’s going to like him. He’s right up her alley, and I keep assuring him of that, but the way he’s tapping his foot under the table is just plain cute.

  “Are we having the usual, Miss Hill?” Mark asks me with a wink. “Bloody Mary, extra spicy?”

  “Oh definitely,” I assure him. “And one for my boyfriend, too please.”

  Tucker squeezes my knee under the table and I just flash him a smile.

  “What was that all about?” he asks me as Mark skips off.

  “What, you don’t like Bloody Marys? They’re really good here…” I tease.

  “Your boyfriend, huh?”

  “I’m sorry! You’ve been living with me for a month, I have seen you naked literally every day since I met you, and last I checked, you were a boy… well, I mean, you know what I mean.”

  For a moment I’m nervous, maybe I overstepped there. It’s just that I’m so utterly into him, and now that I finally get to take him out in public and show him off, I want the world to know exactly what he means to me.

  He stretches his arm out, putting it around me, grinning from ear to ear.

  “I guess I’m just not used to the sound of it. I’ll take it, but I guess I just have to get used to it.”

  “What would you rather call I call you, Tucker? My slam piece? My man friend? Some guy who touches my boobs and my heart?”

  “You can call me whatever you want,” he teases, kissing me on the forehead. “As long as I am the only man who comes anywhere near your chest.”

  “Well look at this happy couple,” Cheryl squeals. Her red hair is tucked up into two buns high on her head and she’s wearing denim overalls and a black sports bra. She’s covered in paint splatter from head to toe. “You must be Tucker. I have to say, Molly, not what I expected at all.”

  She slides the chair at the end of the table out with a loud screech and sits down with a sigh.

  “How so?” I ask her.

  “You know it’s just going to come off as rude. Just knowing the social circle you run around with and all,” she stammers, almost apologetically.

  “She expected you to be dirtier, Tucker,” Mark says, placing our drinks in front of us. “It would’ve made her feel better about herself knowing that Molly was willing to sink to the levels she sinks to on a regular basis.”

  “Hey,” she pouts, punching him in the stomach jokingly.

  “Don’t hit the last person who’s gonna touch your food before you get it,” Mark teases her. “You know I love you, girl.”

  “It’s Molly’s fault. She makes me shower or I’m not allowed to sleep inside.” Everyone starts laughing, and I feel like things are going really well already. I really like Cheryl; she’s one of the best and fastest friends I’ve ever made. I knew that if I liked Tucker she’d do whatever she could to support me, but now I can really tell the two of them are going to get along and that makes me feel so good.

  “So what were you up to, oh elusive one?” I ask her. “You’ve been about as hard to track down as I have lately.”

  “I’m redoing the yoga studio, actually,” she says. “One of my longtime clients made a hefty donation for upgrades. I’m having trouble finding contractors to come help me for whatever reason, though. Guess it’s a busy season. I’m just trying to gut out as much as possible on my own until I can find some help.”

  “Well as soon as I finish this story you know I’ll gladly do whatever I can,” I offer.

  “Does that mean you’re going to stay?” she asks cheerfully. I hadn’t really thought about what my next move was going to be. Now that Tucker is a part of my life, things are a little more complicated.

  “One day at a time, Cheryl,” I explain.

  “How is that story coming along anyway?”

  “Exactly how you told me it would go. No offense, Tucker.”

  “Why do you guys think I’m so easy to offend?” he asks. “You think I’m completely unaware that I live in the woods with no running water and a band of ex-convicts?”

  “By choice, I must add,” I tease, kissing him softly.

  My phone starts ringing in my purse and I pull it out, looking down at it anxiously.

  “It’s my agent, guys. He’s probably expecting some sort of news. I’m gonna go outside and take this.” I nervously leave the table. I can’t stop putting him off. Maybe I need to just come clean so that I can get some professional advice.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Tucker

  I kind of like this Cheryl chick. She seems so honest and casual. I can tell how much she adores Molly by the way she fawns over her, and anyone who loves my woman is ok in my book.

  “So what’s your deal, Tucker?” she asks as soon as Molly gets up from the table. “You can’t honestly expect me to believe that you have no idea who you are or where you came from. So what’s the endgame here?”

  “I swear, Cheryl, I’m not lying to you and I would never lie to her. Why does there have to be an endgame?”

  “You’re essentially claiming that you’re walking around with a head injury but everything else is perfectly ok? How does that even work? If I hit you on the head right now will your memory come back like some old cheesy 50s sitcom?”

  “Don’t hit me,” I say, putting my hands in the air. “I doubt it will work, and I saw what you did to the waiter over there.”

  “Why don’t you let her help you find your home? She does research for a living. You know as well as I do it’s taking every bit of her self-control not to start digging around. The fact that she’s willing to wait around for you to work out whatever life crisis you’re having says a lot about how she feels about you.”

  “You seem like the kind of girl that believes in fate, Cheryl. That the universe is always hard at work giving you opportunities, and sometimes you just have to get out of your own way and let stuff happen.”

  “Are you trying to imply that because I own a yoga studio you think I’m into new age woo woo stuff?” she asks, squinting her eyes at me, leaning across the table.

  I just shrug, not really sure what the next card I have left to play with this girl. She is roasting me pretty hard and it’s just making me like her even more.

  “Because I totally am,” she says, laughing. I let out a sigh of relief. “Either way, though, you at the very least need to go see a doctor or something. And if you’re planning on getting serious with my girl, you better be willing to give her what she deserves. And that’s one hundred percent going to be facing your past head-on.”

  “I know,” I tell her. Everything she’s saying is the truth. She’s looking out for Molly like a good friend should. How can I go on expecting Molly to just deal with the fact that I appeared out of nowhere seemingly? I can’t even get a driver’s license. I can’t get a real job, because I don’t have a social security number. The list of shit that I’m missing out on by being so stubborn is starting to pile up, and I need to get my head out of the clouds and do what I need to do to be the best man I can possibly be for her.

  “She tol
d me about the drawings,” Cheryl says. “Your book. Sounds like you are a talented guy.”

  I smile. Other than landing the girl of my dreams, it’s probably my proudest accomplishment of my most recent life.

  “Do you think you could help me with something?” she asks. “I’m trying to take the drop ceiling out of my studio so I can put in hooks for aerial yoga classes, and I don’t know what all that might entail, or how I need to space things out.”

  “I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about, but I can come take a look.”

  “I’m sure I have lots of stuff around there you can do if you’re looking to make some money. I will gladly pay you to help me.”

  “That would be nice,” I say. “But can we keep this between you and me? I think I’d like to surprise Molly with a gift or something nice. She’s been basically supporting me for the last month and I really want to show her how much I appreciate her.”

  “Aw,” she coos. “I don’t know if you’re a nice guy or if that’s just your head injury talking, but either way, aw. Your secret is safe with me. But you better think about what we were just talking about. Because if she doesn’t start digging into your past, you better bet I’m going to.”

  I nod in agreement. “Deal.”

  Molly comes bouncing back to the table before Cheryl and I can even start making arrangements, a huge smile on her face. Her hands are shaking and she nearly leaps onto my lap.

  “What happened to you?” Cheryl asks. “Did you run into the guy who sells the pot gummy bears and whippets outside?”

  “No, but I’ll buy some for everyone if we run into him when we leave. I just got some amazing news from my agent.” Her face is bright red and she looks like she’s about to explode with excitement. “I won an SPJ award!”

  “I’ll drink to that!” Cheryl laughs. “What is it though?”

  “It’s the Society of Professional Journalists. In Washington State. For my piece about the veteran’s biker gang. We get to go to a fancy banquet and Josh is letting us have his cabin for the weekend so we have a place to stay.”

  “You know I can’t just up and take the weekend off from the studio,” Cheryl says, winking.

  “But you can watch my bus and take care of Dolly while me and my boyfriend go on a romantic vacation, can’t you?” She’s squeezing my hand so hard under the table that I feel like she might break it. “Pretty please?”

  “I think I can arrange that. I do love that little shit of a mutt.”

  “I even managed to get Josh to hook us up with a rental car. That way we don’t have to worry about trying to smuggle you in my suitcase,” she says, smiling at me. “I mean, if you want to go that is.”

  “I would be so honored,” I tell her. Sure, I’m nervous as hell about traveling. I haven’t been anywhere since my accident, especially not in a car. I don’t have a suit, and even though her friends say I don’t actually look like a dirty vagrant, I’m not sure a classy awards banquet is a place where I can just blend in. “I’m so proud of you.”

  “Yes!!!” she squeals. “Oh my God, oh my God, I’m so excited. What the hell am I going to wear?”

  “When is it?” I ask her.

  “At the end of the month.”

  “Well, I’m sure you’ll come up with something by then. You could show up in a bath towel and you’d still be the prettiest girl in the room,” I say before pulling her in for a passionate kiss. I do feel proud of her, and it really moves me to want to be the best man I can possibly be for her.

  “It’s ok,” Cheryl says. “You guys can screw right here if you want to. You’re both attractive enough. I won’t complain.”

  “You’re sick, woman,” Molly laughs. “Am I gonna have to check my place for hidden cameras when we come back from our trip?”

  “You might want to invest in a motion sensor monitor outside your bus for the time being. I can’t believe how thin your curtains are.”

  As we’re getting ready to leave, Cheryl casually slips me her business card. “9 a.m. tomorrow,” she whispers over Molly’s shoulder as they hug goodbye.

  It’s going to be a challenge trying to sneak around, both with Molly and my crew, but I’m going to do whatever it takes to make it work. For the woman who deserves a good man. For us. For the first steps towards our future together.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Molly:

  For the third day in a row, I’ve woken up to a note on the nightstand from Tucker.

  “Have a wonderful day, love,” scrawled in pen, or “See you at 7, beautiful.”

  While I appreciate his sentiments, I don’t appreciate the fact that he’s been sneaking out without saying goodbye, though. I realize I told him I needed to just take a week away from the story, write some fluff pieces and try to figure out if maybe there’s a different angle I can take going forward, but something about this feels really strange.

  When he comes home at night, he’s exhausted, and when I ask him what he was up to all day, he’ll tell me the usual “hunting, fishing, scouting for deer, bushwhacking trails.”

  When I ask him if I can come along, he just says “maybe next week.”

  It doesn’t stop me from caring about him more and more every day. In fact, it’s making me nervous as to how much I am falling for this man who doesn’t even know his name. But I did promise him I would stay out of his business with the Vagrants, that my job wouldn’t come between him and his crew, and so I try to just avoid asking questions.

  I get out of bed and slide on some flip-flops so I can take Dolly out for her morning prance around the campground and walk myself over to the community bathrooms, too. It’s already ninety degrees outside. It’s been an unusually hot summer, and even walking the thirty yards or so back to the bus has me a sweaty mess. Thank goodness my tiny bus has air conditioning.

  When I get back, I’m completely startled. Sitting on my front porch is the dark-haired giant, Moss, scowling so hard his teeth are showing.

  “Where the fuck is he?” he snaps.

  “I don’t know. He’s supposed to be with you. Maybe you just missed him or something.”

  He stands up, towering over me by at least a foot, and Dolly begins growling, snapping at his ankles. He goes to kick her off.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. I’ve never seen her in full-blown attack mode so I can’t make any promises as to what your face will look like when she’s done with you,” I warn him.

  He backs off slightly, shaking his head at me, those dark eyes full of rage.

  “I haven’t seen him in almost a week. Nobody has. We figured you stole him from us for good.”

  The wheels in my head are turning. If they haven’t seen him for a week, where could he possibly be?

  “Moss, I have no idea where he is. And I have a feeling this isn’t some sort of wellness checkup, either.”

  “Can’t a guy just worry about his brother?”

  “What’s there to worry about? He’s a grown man.”

  “Yeah well, he’s a grown man who knows some shit. And by proxy, you’re a grown woman who knows some shit.”

  I’m really wishing I had my gun on me right now because he’s making me really uncomfortable. I’m really wishing Tucker was here right now instead of wherever he’s hiding.

  “Please don’t make me call the cops,” I tell him. “I know nothing. I have no idea where Tucker is and all I know about you and your men is that you will take and take whatever anyone gives you until you bleed them dry.”

  “You know what I was in jail for?” he sneers.

  “I can only imagine,” I say, trying to show him how little I care, showing him how much I want to distance myself from him and his men.

  “Battery. I beat the shit out of Luna because she was acting like a mouthy bitch. Kind of like you’re acting right now. The only reason I got caught was because some other mouthy bitch called the police. Shit got overturned, but I stopped showing up to the meetings with my parole officers, and that’s
why they picked me up this time.”

  My hands are trembling, but I know there are enough people parked in this campground that if he tried anything, all I’d have to do was scream.

  “Get out of here,” I tell him. “Go back where you belong. You and your fucked-up crew just stay the hell away from me and Tucker.”

  “You tell him I’m looking for him.” I roll my eyes at him, showing him how very little he actually has me rattled, and he slinks off to his four-wheeler, looking over his shoulder at me mockingly.

  You tell him I’m looking for him, I think, as anger creeps through me. Me fucking too.

  I don’t know where he could possibly be. I don’t understand how he could just disappear all day and come home at night like everything was normal if he’s hiding something from me. He’s obviously lying.

  And if he’s willing to lie about that, what else is he lying to me about?

  I slam around in my bus, trying to dress myself for the day. You know how when you’re seeing red you start doing stupid stuff like stubbing your toes and dropping stuff? By the time I got to putting on mascara, I was done. I have streaks across my face from a combination of crying angrily and clumsiness.

  I need to get out of here. I need to go blow off some steam. I try to text Cheryl but she doesn’t answer.

  Maybe I’ll just take a walk down to her studio. I know she’s trying to do some renovations. Maybe getting my hands dirty will calm me down until I can confront Tucker tonight when he comes back from whatever he’s doing.

  Chapter Twenty

  Tucker:

  The sound of her sobbing perks my ears up and I have to stop what I’m doing. Like a coyote who can hear the sound of a rabbit in distress from across a field, I can hear Molly’s cries. I can feel them in me, and it makes me feel terrible.

  I’m up on a ladder installing hooks in Cheryl’s ceiling. It’s been damn hard work taking out all the old drop tiles and fixing all the wires so they aren’t just draped across the natural ceiling, but I figured out a pretty simple way to reroute them. This construction project has been really good for me. I feel competent again. I feel powerful and intelligent, and if it weren’t for the fact that I was trying to hide this from Molly, I’d probably be working around the clock. It’s an addicting feeling.