Trick

by Laramie Briscoe

  “She looks so grown up,” Hadley whispers over to me, and I have to agree. She does look like she’s aged ten years in the last three. I’m almost scared for her teenage years. I’ll definitely be fighting the boys off with a stern look and probably holding a baseball bat. Tonight her curls are long around her face, down her shoulders. Pink converse cover her feet, even though she wears a black dress, and the pearls I got her for her birthday this year.

  “She looks beautiful like her mom, and she’s gonna nail this piece. She’s been working so hard on it.”

  Hadley grabs my hand as we sit, watching our daughter play on a stage in front of hundreds of people with the poise of someone much older. I’ve never been more proud of her than I am right now.

  It’s hard to sit through the rest of the recital because I want to see her, I want to congratulate her on a job well done, and give her the flowers her mom has worked so hard on. The next hour feels like torture, but as soon as the house lights come up, I’m out of my seat, grabbing Hadley’s hand. We hurry along, stopping to say hi to a few of the people we know, trying to get to the area Riley will be. I’m taller than Hadley, so I gaze over heads, moving my head this way and that, trying to see her when she comes out. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her curls. “Sprite,” I yell, because she’s always going to be that little girl to me.

  Riley glances up, seeing me, and runs right towards us. “Dad!”

  It never fails to stop my heart when I hear her say that word. Back before I adopted her, I kept telling myself it was a title, it didn’t mean shit. I already did everything a dad did. I lied. The title melts my heart and feels me with joy every damn day.

  I catch her as she runs to us, taking her in a hug. She’s too big to pick up and put on my hip now. “You did great!” I praise her before I let her go, passing her over to Hadley.

  “Riles, you did awesome!” She holds her hand up for a high-five. “These are for you,” she hands her the flowers while Riley hugs her mom around the waist.

  “Thank you, I was nervous,” she admits. “But I think I did well.”

  “You did perfect from where we sat,” I assure her.

  She buries her head in the flowers before giving each of us a hug again.

  “You hungry?” I ask her, knowing full well she was too nervous to eat earlier. She’s gotta be starving by now.

  “Can we get Hibachi?” It’s her new favorite thing, and one of the only things Hadley can eat right now.

  “We have a reservation at Samurai,” I tell her, mentioning the super pricey place that we only go to on special occasions. Her eyes light up, and I feel as if I’ve given her the world.

  “What are we waiting on? Let’s go!” She grabs both our hands, pulling us through the crowd.

  Hadley slows us down, because she just can’t move that fast, and I see she’s wedged her feet in heels tonight. She is one fucking hot mama; I can’t wait to get her in nothing but the heels later on.

  “You go on ahead of us,” her breathing is slightly labored. “He’s pressing up under my ribcage,” she tells me, holding her side.

  “Go on ahead and wait at the truck,” I tell Riley, motioning for her to go in front of us.

  She has energy for days and such an outgoing personality I can’t believe she’s the same girl I met at the Companion Program. It makes me wonder something I’ve never asked before. “What did you think of me when I walked into the Companion Program?”

  I can tell I’ve startled her. That is definitely not the question she was expecting. As she tilts her head, I can see the gears spinning. Stopping for a minute, I wrap her in my arms as I hear Riley groan. She’s totally used to us by now.

  Hadley giggles, grasping my shirt between her fingers. There’s a naughtiness to her smile, a brightness to the look in her eyes. “When you told me your name, I had two thoughts. How in the hell is this guy so hot, and how in the world is my life going to be changed by some dude named Trick?”

  “Did I do good?” I ask, knowing I have.

  “I think you know the answer, there’s only one name I call in the middle of the night, whether it’s in pleasure, in pain, or just because I want you to hang out with me.”

  “It’s also the name our daughter calls me when she gets sick of waiting,” I grin as I can see Riley tapping her foot on the pavement. It’s almost as if she heard me when I hear the words coming out of her mouth.

  “C’mon Trick!”

  Turning Hadley so she’s by my side, arm around her neck, I yell back. “Be right there, Sprite.”

  With the woman of my dreams by my side, daughter of my heart waiting on me, and son about to be born, I realize I have the American Dream. I have everything most people only dream of, and some never get.

  All because I got into some trouble and was open to turning my life around.

  Maybe in the end, I pulled the biggest trick of them all…

  THE END

  Connect with Laramie

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  Dedication

  For everyone who encouraged me to take my time and do what’s in my heart.

  I finally did it and I’ve never been happier with a finished product! Those of you who I conversate with everyday and continue to inspire me.

  I love you hard!

  Carian, Keyla, Danielle, Dee, Ash, Amy, and Heather. I appreciate you more than you know!

  Sneak Peek of Renegade

  Coming March 9th 2017

  Pre-Order Here

  When you fall in love with the most unexpected person, at the most unexpected time……

  Ryan “Renegade” Kepler

  I’m the type of man who knows what I want. I make up my mind and stay in my lane, never veering off the course I set for myself.

  Going into the military? Did it.

  Serving overseas? Did it.

  Youngest member of the Moonshine Task Force? That’s me.

  Get my best friend’s older sister in bed? It was my pleasure.

  Convince the older sister to give me a chance? Working on it.

  Age means nothing to me. I’ve seen and done things men half my age never will. What I want more than anything is someone to share my life with. The work I do is dangerous and knowing I have someone at home might keep me under control. Everybody says I need a woman, and I know I do, but I also know which one I want.

  That woman, whether she admits it or not, is Whitney Trumbolt.

  Whitney Trumbolt

  Ryan is ten years my junior, but damn, being a cougar never felt as good as it did the night we spent together. Now all I want to do is go back to how things were before.

  But Ryan is my younger brother’s best friend, and where Trevor goes, Ryan goes. Instead I put my head in the sand and do my best to go about my life.

  Build up my confidence from a horrible divorce? Working on it.

  Make my wedding planning company the best in the south? Did it.

  Ignore the way my body trembles when I see Ryan? Epic fail.

  Freak out when I see a positive pregnancy test staring back at me? Complete with mascara running down my face and clutching my pearls.

  Looks like things aren’t gonna go back to the way they were. There’s a man in my life that won’t take no for an answer. Gone is sweet Ryan, and in his place is the one who makes my blood run hot, my cheeks turn red, and my heart beat heavily within my chest.

  The one I’m up against is the one I can’t say no to. Not when he becomes Renegade.

  Renegade Chapter 1

  Whitney

  “Ryan, I’m tellin’ you,
I need my hair pulled, I need a red handprint across my ass, I need someone paying attention to my nipples, a dick in my treasure cove. I need it all.”

  Drunk. I am drunk. Like way past the legal limit – otherwise I wouldn’t be sitting here spilling all of my secrets to my baby brother’s best friend. The baby brother that had been totally unplanned by my parents. Ten years my junior, baby brother. He and Ryan are the same age; twenty-five to my thirty-five. Makes me feel so much older, just thinking about it. Not only by age, but by life experience too. And dear Lord, I think I sound like Julia Sugarbaker. I’m three sheets to the wind, and nobody stopped me.

  I see him try to suppress a grin as he brings his bottle of beer up to his lips, taking a nice long pull off the wide mouth. I am mesmerized by the way his throat muscles move when he swallows, pushing the liquid down his throat. No denying he’s a man. The palm of his hand completely covers the label on the bottle, the one drink he takes, drains half the bottle. For a second he focuses on my face, squinting as he watches me. “How many of those have you had to drink?” He points the neck of his bottle to the wine glass in my hand.

  His voice is as smooth as the wine I swirl in my glass. I tilt my head to the side, realizing the whole room tilts right along with it. Counting back, I try to think how many I had before he took the seat next to mine, and I can’t remember. “Five or six?” I ask him, like he should know. “What’s it to you, Ren-e-gade,” I sound out his name by syllables. My words sound slightly slurred to my own ears. “Renegade,” I grin. “Anybody ever tell you, you little boys and your nicknames are cute? Just like playing cops and robbers…you with your Renegade, Trevor with his Tank,” I’m giggling for real now. “Pew, pew!” I fake shoot him with my finger gun, thinking how pissed off my brother would be if he were here right now. Not Ryan, though, he’s patient. God bless him.

  “You think maybe it’s time you quit for the night?” He gently tries to take what I have left away from me.

  His fingers are soft as they try to pry my fingers from around the stem, but I resist his attempts, and pull it closer to my body. I’m like a two-year-old with her blankie. This glass of wine is my security and at this moment I’ll protect it with everything I have. Once the security is gone, I’m left with nothing. I can’t be transparent tonight, I need something shielding me from my reality.

  “Quit?” I ask, running my tongue over my dry lips, trying to moisten them so I can form words easier. “Quitting is not something I do. That’s what my ex-husband did. My mama did. That’s what my former boss did,” I shake my head, and try to stand on four-inch stilettos. He reaches out and grabs my elbow, steadying me, being a rock when I haven’t had one in a very long time. “Whitney Trumbolt is not a fuckin’ quitter.”

  I can see Ryan try again to keep the smile from his face. The corners of his lips twitch, and it pisses me off. Not because I’m mad, but because he thinks it’s funny. He thinks this is a joke, and it’s not. It’s my life. The life I’ve been trying so desperately to get out from under or save. I’m not sure which yet. All I know is I haven’t been living and I’m damn sick of the in-between.

  “You think this is funny?” I take another drink from my wine glass. It’s a big one this time, I drain it down. There’s not one drop left when I set it back down on the bar, slapping my lips together with a satisfied pop.

  “No, Whit, I think you’re having a bad night.” His tone is one someone would use with a kindergartner, talking them down from a temper tantrum. It pisses me off too.

  A bad night? Try a bad decade. If I could do anything, it would go back to the night I turned twenty-five, and be the age that Ryan is again. I would do so many things different, I would change so much about the choices I made back then. “You know nothing about me, other than the fact that I’m Tank’s sister.”

  He grabs me by the wrist, locking his hand around the flesh. I feel his finger lightly touch the skin and bone. It’s more of a caress than a warning. I never realized until this moment how much bigger he is than me. Never really paid any kind of attention to it – oh I’ve paid attention to him off and on through-out the years, but never like this.

  Ryan “Renegade” Kepler rises to his full height, towering over me as I do my best to keep my footing and ignore the way my skin tingles where he grips my wrist. He leans in close – so close I can feel his breath on my skin.

  “I know a lot of things about you that you don’t think I know.”

  His voice is hard and soft at the same time. I close my eyes to savor it, to try and figure out how he’s able to do both. Maybe it’s my drunken mind, but he’s magic to me in this instant. The deep timbre rushes over me as I try to understand his words, but I’m having a hard time. This is the closest I’ve been to a man in a very long time. My body is at attention, as is my libido. I press my thighs together as I dig my heels in deeper, not because I don’t want him to move me, because I ache. It’s an ache that’s never been fulfilled, if I’m honest.

  “I know that you love your mama’s fried chicken, your grandmother’s homemade mac and cheese, Alabama football, and Dale Earnhardt Jr. I know that you have a soft heart. Hallmark movies make you cry, you pick up strays on the side of the road, and you always buy that homeless man near the Starbucks a morning coffee,” he lulls me into a sense of security.

  I’m wrapped up in his voice, in the things he does know about me. Things I never knew he paid attention to. I’m swaying, but it’s because his voice is doing weird things to my equilibrium. His other hand cups my hip and I can feel the heat of his body through the material of my skirt. Out thighs burn as they’re pressed together where we stand.

  “I know that your ex-husband was a piece of shit. I know that your ex-boss didn’t know what the hell to do with the creative genius that is your mind, and I know that your mama will never forgive you for giving up pageants, but she’ll never forgive herself for pushing you that damn hard,” he stops and pulls back, giving me his eyes and face to stare at.

  Our eyes meet and I realize with clarity that I’m breathing hard, hard enough that it feels as if I’ve run a marathon. The loss of his strong body against mine makes me want to cry. I want to grasp at his clothing, pull him back in, and let him heat up parts of me that have been cold for so long.

  “You wanna know what else I know?” The question is asked in a way that says he’s not sure if he wants to answer. The way his face closes off and he withdraws slightly into himself make me think this is a secret he’s not shared with anyone. Tonight I want him to share it with me, I want to be the person who confides things to. He knows so much about me, I want to know everything about him too. There’s a string of awareness stretched between us, and it’s pulling me closer.

  I’m captivated by the way the dim lights of the bar make his brown eyes darker, I’m enthralled by the fact that it looks like it’s been a few days since he shaved, and I’m even more fascinated by the cut he has on his cheek. He and Tank went out on a call last night, and I can’t help but wonder if that cut is the result of a dangers night doing a dangerous job. I shake my head and then nod, because I do want to find out what else he knows. I step forward, put my arms around his neck, and lean up so that now I’m the one in his ear. The truth of the matter is I need to feel close to him, I want the heat back he’s taken away from me. I’m cold without it, and I’m sick to death of being cold. “Tell me what else you know.”

  I see him look around the bar, checking to make sure that we’re not being paid any attention to. He bends with his knees and grips my ass cheeks in the palms of his hands. “I know I’m the one that can put my dick in that treasure cove. I know I’m the one that can pull that hair, I can pull on those nipples, and I can smack that ass. The question is – will you let me?”

  It’s not a question I can say no to. The way the air cackles between us, the alcohol I’ve consumed, and the sudden fascination I have with his heat. There’s not any way that I can say no nor is there any desire on my part to deny it. I’ve denied
myself a lot of things in this life, and this right here, is not something that I want to brush off. This is God giving me what I want on a silver platter, a sacrificial offering for the shit I’ve gone through the past few years. This is my Cinderella moment and my SEC Championship all tied into one great big bow. Over six feet and two hundred pounds of bow. If I say no, Lord, never offer me anything else because I’m gonna be a nun for the rest of my life.

  “You’re what?” He asks, a glimmer of surprise and playfulness in his eyes.

  I said that out loud? Never mind, I can fix this.

  “Yes,” I breath out….adding on a “please.”

  “Oh baby, you don’t have to beg. I’ll do whatever you need me to,” Ryan says as I find my hand in his and stumble to keep up as he pulls us out of the bar. We pass people we’ve known our whole lives, clients I’ve helped to the altar, I’m pretty sure we just passed the Deacon of the church. No one stops us as we pass hit the front door. I gulp in the fresh air, sure as the world my sense are going to come to me. N

  Guess what? They don’t. I’m in for whatever this full-moon-lit night is going to bring us. Safe Whitney is not putting the brakes on a ride crazier than a lap at Talladega. No, Wild Whitney has taken her place. Funny how both are four letter words, yet they couldn’t be further apart.

  In mere minutes I’m in his truck, and we’re headed towards my house. I will myself not to pass out, because for the first time in years, I want to be here and present for this experience that’s about to happen. I want to remember every damn detail. If it’s only going to be for this one night, I don’t want to miss a thing.