by K. A. Ware
Turning around, I wound my arms around his neck and pulled him into me. I had no idea what the hell I was doing, but I had no intentions of stopping.
“Addie, wait,” Zep said, forcing an assurance I knew he didn’t mean.
“I’m tired of waiting.” Without giving him a chance to respond, I pressed my lips against him hard. Startled, he pulled back, staring at me as if I were a creature he’d didn’t recognize. When he opened his mouth to shut me down again, I took the upper hand and attacked his lips, sliding my tongue between them.
We tangled with heavy breaths and impatience, fighting for dominance, each one with something to prove. I needed to show myself that I could break the pattern that I continually found myself repeating, and Zep apparently needed to prove to himself I was still the girl who brought him chocolate cupcakes.
Pulling back once more, he pinned me with a heated stare laced with a question.
Am I sure…
A surge of independence rolled through me, and I kissed him again, longing twisting in my stomach. I swear I heard his resistance snap as he crushed me in his arms and drove his hand into my hair, deepening the kiss.
Light-headed with need, I weakened in his arms. “Zep…”
As he licked the seam of my mouth, his beard scraped across my chin, sending my desire into overdrive. The sensible, responsible Addie that I desperately clung to flew out the window, and I cradled his face, “Please.”
His eyes flickered with the strain of a man pushed to his breaking point. “Damn it, Addie.” He fisted my hair tighter, and his eyes dropped to the open neck of my dress. “Just goddamn it, Addie. You make me crazy.”
Jerking the truck door open, Zep slid his hands down the length of my back and dug his fingers into the flesh of ass. Without a word, he lifted me and tossed me none too gently across the seat. Crawling over me, he slammed his body against me, knocking the breath out of me. Before I had a chance to react, he braced his feet on the running board and dragged his tongue up my neck, stopping to lick at my jawline before taking my mouth in a dizzying kiss.
Holy hell, I lost my mind.
He kissed me like I’d never been kissed before. Long, deep, hard, and with a need that had become a living, breathing thing between us. Even through his jeans, I felt his hardened erection and scattered memories from our drunken night together reminded me exactly what he could do with it. All I could think about was how bad I wanted it.
Like really, really, really bad.
Zep LeBlanc was unlike Roland in every way possible. Roland’s motto was ‘Never let them see you sweat,’ while Zep subscribed more to the ‘Satan sucks my dick” school of thought.
My ex-husband never made me crave him—salivate for the taste of him. The one on top of me drenched my panties with a look.
“God, Addie, I want you so fucking bad.” I vaguely registered his hand running up the inside of my thigh, chasing my dress as it slid up and bunched around my waist.
“Yes.” It was all I could say, and all my pride would allow.
Dragging his thumb across my lip, he curled the rest of his fingers under my chin and forced my eyes on him. “I need you to touch me first.”
Not an unreasonable request.
However, as I reached for the button on his jeans, my hand shook. My fingertips numbed and weakened as they grazed the metal barrier.
I didn’t want to ask for it. I didn’t want to admit to needing validation. Jesus, why the hell couldn’t he just take control like a man, stop being a pussy, and fuck the pain away?
Was that too much to ask?
I didn’t know I was crying until I tasted the tear. Salty and single…just like me.
Mumbling a curse under his breath, Zep pulled away. Groaning as he slid off me, he winced, adjusting himself as he handed me the strap of the seat bed. “Here. Put this on.”
Something in his eyes made me suck in a sharp breath. “What? Why? I thought you said you wanted me?”
“I do,” he said, his eyes dulling. “But I want you to be with me because you want me too…not to punish your ex-husband.”
Every ounce of warmth in my body chilled. “You’re wrong,” I argued, refusing to believe I’d sunken so low. “That’s not what I’m doing.”
Wrapping the seat belt around my fingers, Zep stroked his beard and sighed. “I’ve lived without you for thirteen years, Addie. I won’t settle for less than everything. It’s all of you or nothing.”
With a slam of the door, duck number twenty-seven took her rightful place in the back of the class.
***
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!
What had I done?
The ride home was uncomfortable and silent. After collecting my purse and phone from the truck bed, Zep climbed behind the wheel and slammed the door with a finality that made me wince. For half an hour, I sat with my hands folded in my lap while he choked the life out of the steering wheel and hid behind a pair of dark sunglasses.
I tried to push it all down. I really tried, but all it managed to do was churn the already festering ulcer brewing since I left Sugarbirch. Unable to stand it anymore, I threw my hands in the air and groaned. “The silent treatment? Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?”
“Did that asshole call the cops?”
Not what I expected.
“Huh?”
Pulling into my driveway, Zep tugged off his sunglasses and pointed in front of us. “The cops, Addie. NOLAPD is sitting in your driveway.” Shaking his head, he threw his glasses on the dashboard. “Look, I know some of the guys on the force. Find out what they want and whatever your dick of an ex is accusing you of, I’ll—”
Squinting my eyes across the lawn, I recognized the lone figure sitting on the top step of my front porch. He had his head buried in his hands, and his shoulders hung with the weight of the world. “That’s no cop. That’s Pope.”
Clearing the distance from the driveway to the steps, I rested my hands on my hips and tilted my head curiously. “Pope? Everything all right?”
A dejected, sad look crossed his face as he lifted his bowed head. His eyes were bloodshot and glassy, ravaged from the pain hidden behind them. “Savannah’s gone.”
Chapter 6
Céline Dion's All By Myself came on the radio just as I pulled off highway 90 towards my hometown. I blindly punched at buttons until the damn song stopped playing. I loved me some Céline but damn, that song was like throwing the remaining pieces of my heart in a blender to make a lonely dinner if depression for one.
I bumped along the gravel road leading to Babs’ house serenaded only by the sound of Kevin's snores. I hadn't called to let her know I was coming, but as I pulled up, I spotted her sitting in her rocking chair on the front porch with a bottle of vodka in her hand like she'd been expecting me.
No words were spoken as I jumped out of the truck, leaving Kevin snoozing in his little nest and made my way up the porch steps. She handed me the bottle of vodka without a word.
After a few hearty slugs Babs snapped her fingers at me. “No camping.”
I reluctantly took one last swig and passed the bottle back to her.
She closed her bad eye, sizing me up with the foggy, but less cataract one. “You going to tell me why you show up here in middle of night?”
Letting my head fall back against the dilapidated porch railing I gazed up at the clear swamp sky. This far out in the sticks, away from the lights and noises of the city, you could actually see the stars, and hear the songs of the creatures who called the swamp home. It was beautiful, and as much as I loved living in the city, I missed home. “I was hoping I didn't have to.”
“Come now tell Babs problem.”
I groaned and scrubbed the tears from my cheeks. “It's Pope.”
She clucked her tongue at me, shaking her head. “Always problems with dick.”
“Ya Ya!” I yelled, snatching the bottle out of her hand and taking another swig. “Fuck men and their stupid lies. Let's get drunk!
”
Babs gave me a gummy grin, she must've already taken her teeth out for the night. “Vodka to fix everything.”
I snorted, vodka was the Dubois cure all for everything that ailed you. We sat passing the bottle back-and-forth and I listen to Babs rattle on about the assholes in the town. The Sheriff had come down last week to tell her that if she shot another alligator without a permit he'd have to arrest her. Naturally, she’d told him to go fuck himself and that she would continue to do whatever she damn well pleased. Like Sheriff Tucker would actually haul off an 85-year-old woman to jail, it’d be the talk of the town.
“I almost forget!” Babs yelled, jumping up out of her chair. The little doll she’d been whittling fell to the ground with a clatter. “I be right back.” She speed waddled into the house, crop dusting me on the way. I stared at the wooden doll on the ground wearily, I wasn't certain, but I was slightly terrified that she’d been making a miniature Pope voodoo doll.
Babs pushed open the screen door and peeked her head out. “Ready?”
I was about seven sheets to the wind so I just gave her a sloppy smile and nodded. I had to squint through the vodka haze and the dim glow of the porch light to make her out. When I was finally able to focus, I saw that she was holding a leash.
What the fuck?
I followed the line of the black leash down, down, down, until…OH MY FUCKING GOD! I crab walked backwards as fast as I could, clamoring up onto the railing. “What the fuck Babs? Have you finally lost your fatherfucking mind?”
Oh man I was so not looking forward to having to commit her.
“What? You have pet pig, I have pet gator, his name fluffy.”
“There are so many things wrong with that fucking sentence. You keep a fucking man eating animal inside your house?”
Babs just rolled her eyes at me. “Only nighttime, don't want him hurt.”
She’d finally done it, she’d taken it too far and there was no coming back. “You don't want the vicious modern-day dinosaur to get hurt? You've got to be fucking kidding me. I'm in the fucking twilight zone.”
“When Pappy die and my girls leave again, I have no one. Pisshole sheriff say I can't shoot gators, so I got one for pet that keep me company!”
I instantly felt the lead weight of guilt settle in my stomach. “Aww Babs, if you're lonely call me. Addie and I can drive down for the weekend.”
“No, my girls don't have time to waste with sad old lady. You have bearded clam digger and officer Mc fuck nut.”
Shame washed over me, we’d come back only to move away again, leaving our poor grandmother all by herself.
God we were assholes.
I was ready to keep beating myself up when I caught the twinkle in Babs good eye, right before she let out what could only be described as a warrior cry. I had to get her to stop watching Xena.
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
“A little guilt good for you. Is fine, I got my vodka and now I have fluffy,” she said simply, as if she were talking about a companion dog instead of a swamp monster.
“Dear God will you put that thing away so I can get off the damn railing? I'm about to jump out of my fucking skin.”
“Bitch, bitch, bitch,” Babs grumbled, turning to head back inside.
As soon as the beast’s tail cleared the front door, I jumped back down, fully intent on continuing my pity party. I wasn't sure if there was enough booze in the world to drown out the memory of seeing my grandmother with an alligator on a leash, but I sure as hell was going to try.
***
The smell of frying bacon pulled me from my comatose state. I shifted and groaned at the creaking beneath me. I was on Babs’ couch. The 80s monstrosity covered in a protective plastic sheeting to prevent its untimely demise. I tried to sit up but it felt like my face had melted into the plastic overnight. Slowly, I peeled my cheek off, the devil plastic taking at least three layers of my skin hostage in the process. I stretched and made the mistake of rolling, completely misjudging the width of the couch and unceremoniously dumping my ass on the floor.
I landed with a thud and more groaning. My head was pounding harder than a forty-year-old virgin with a hooker and my mouth tasted like roadkill. The perfect beginning to what was sure to be an amazingly shitty day.
“Oh good you're up,” my mother’s chipper voice sounded from above me.
Am I still asleep? What the fuck is Mama doing here?
I cracked open one mascara crusted eye and peered at the blurry figure hovering above the couch where I had been sleeping a moment ago.
“Mom?” I croaked, sounding like my voice box had been thrown through a wood chipper. “What are you doing here? Did I go to your house? Where am I?”
I could feel rather than see her giving me the disappointed mom face. “Glad to see you didn't die if alcohol poisoning.”
My stomach flipped and summersaulted down the rabbit hole at the mention of alcohol.
Oh, God, make it stop.
“Mama, please don't.” I gagged, but forced myself to reel it in. On top of everything, I wasn’t going to disappoint Babs by being the pussy who made it through a whole night of drinking without losing it just to blow chunks the next morning. I was better than that
“Oh dear, are you going to be sick? Let me get a bowl.”
I waved a hand at her in protest. “I'm fine.”
She twisted the dish towel in her hands nervously. My mother had Addie’s caretaking tendencies times a hundred. If she wasn’t fretting over someone, she was cleaning or fixing something in the kitchen. “Would you like some coffee?”
Door number three it is with a healthy dash of door number one.
“Yes, please, you sweet, sweet woman.”
“Do you want decaf?”
What in the actual fuck? I’m hungover and its God knows fuck o’clock. This is not the time for decaf, woman.
The sound of Babs snort followed by her spitting in disgust came from somewhere beyond the living room. “Drinking decaf is like going to hooker for pull job.”
Good ol’ Babs, I can always count on you to have my back.
I hooked a thumb in the general vicinity of Babs hacking cough-laugh. “What she said.”
My mother tsked in disapproval and scurried off to the kitchen, God bless her soul. My mother was the quintessential southern housewife. She went to church twice a week, volunteered for charity events, and made sure that my father had three home-cooked meals a day. She was practically Betty fucking Crocker. How she managed to deal with having Babs as a mother-in-law without stroking out before she turned forty, I'd never know.
She came back bearing a steaming mug of coffee that smelled like heaven.
“Thanks, Mama.” I scooted over to make room for her on the couch, but instead of sitting down, she started to fold the blankets I’d used the night before. My mother never could relax if there were things that needed tidying.
I took a sip and almost orgasmed. Liquid gold, with the perfect about a cream sugar, just like I liked it. “Goddamn, woman! You know how to make a cup of coffee.”
She scowled at me. “Savannah Dubois, what have I told you about taking the Lords name in vain?”
Has the poor woman learned nothing?
I wagged a finger in her direction. “Ah, ah, not so fast. This is Babs house, and she doesn’t have those rules.”
“Oh heavens me!” She threw up her hands in exasperation, stopping for only a second before diving back into the mountain of blankets. “What am I gonna do with you?”
“I don't know, the same thing that you've been doing with me for the past 25 years? Hoping and praying I’ll finally turn out to be the proper lady that you always wanted me to be and then dealing with the crippling disappointment when I don't meet your expectations?”
She froze mid-fold, her mouth hanging open and sat down next to me. “Baby girl, is that really what you think?”
No, no, no! It’s too early for a heart to heart.
“Is what
, what I think?”
Smooth, Sav, she’ll never decode that one. My evil powers of diversion have failed me in my time of need; it’s official vodka is my kryptonite.
She didn’t even blink. “Do you honestly believe that I am disappointed in you?”
“Well aren't you?” I wasn’t sure if it was possible for any functioning adult not to be disappointed in me. Hell, I was disappointed in me.
“Heavens no!” She reached over and took my free hand in hers, giving me a comforting pat. “Darling, you are adventurous and free spirited and so spontaneous, I’m jealous. I would kill for just a teeny bit of your courage.”
Mama say what?
I looked around the room as if I were searching for cameras. “Am I getting Punk’d?”
My mother, after years of experience with my antics, just ignored me and continued. “Now do I wish that you'd swear a little less and maybe try to act like a God-fearing woman? Of course, but that doesn't mean I'm not proud of you for setting out to carve your own path and saying screw you dude anyone who didn't like it.”
My jaw about hit the floor, that ‘screw you’ was the closest thing to a curse that I’d ever heard come out of my Mama’s mouth.
“Wow, I guess I didn't ever think that you thought that highly of me. Oh child, you and your sister are the apple of my eye, I’m equally proud of both of you. But you’ve always been different, even as a little girl you marched to the beat of your own drum. I'm not saying it was easy bringing you up, but that I knew God gave me you for a reason, and that was to teach me patience and understanding.”
“Yeah how’d that work out for you? If I recall, your patience and understanding cost you a tractor and a shrimp boat at one point.”
She closed her eyes briefly and I couldn’t help but wonder if she’d taught that coping mechanism to Addie because she did a lot of that pausing and breathing shit around me. “I’d blocked that tractor incident out for ten years, so thank you for reminding me.”
Jostling her with my elbow, I wiggled my eyebrows at her. “Was that sarcasm? Did my Mama just throw a little shade?”
“Lord have mercy, are you going to let me have this moment or not?”