“He’s the slutty one, right?”
“Probably. Like I said, he’s the good-looking one.”
“I never liked your father. Handsy, rude, a little dumb.”
Okay, I can’t go full vengeful wrath on this woman since her son just got out of surgery. But no one talks trash about my family and gets away free.
“When I texted Dad to let him know what was going on, he asked if you still had your fake boobs. Unable to tell with the shirt you’re wearing, I figured it was best to ask.”
“Bitch,” she hisses.
“She had them taken out years ago,” Nick says without looking at us. “It was an anniversary gift to me.”
“That’s sweet,” I say.
Nick is definitely where Bubba inherited his softer side from, and the physical resemblance is striking. I ignore Bailey for a few minutes while watching her husband entertain Sissy’s kids.
“Are you finished thinking about my boobs?” Bailey asks, leaning over to get my attention again.
“I was thinking about your son actually,” I lie, having been very much wondering how big they might have been during her plastic phase. “Bubba’s something special.”
Bailey frowns, thinking I’m playing her. “Why did Bubba say he was away from Conroe?”
“He fought with his brother and needed space to think.”
“They fought over Sissy,” Bailey whispers so the kids won’t hear.
“I know.”
“Does that make you jealous?”
“Of course not.”
“Why?”
“Bubba loves me.”
“He met you on this trip, correct?”
“Our first sexual experience was in my truck last week,” I announce in my perkiest voice.
Bailey sighs dramatically. “I’m not talking to you anymore.”
Smiling triumphantly, I lift my tablet as if I’m reading. Bailey realizes she’s losing and leans over again.
“I will kill you if you fuck with my boy’s heart.”
“Then, my family will kill you. Then your family will kill someone in my family to avenge you. It could go on for quite a long time. Though I suspect there are more Johanssons than Rutgers. We’ll likely need to call in outside help.”
“Saint is ours,” Bailey blurts out immediately.
“Fine, but we get the Arizona Moving Company. Also, my uncle Lawman will most definitely kill for us. Come to think of it, this war could become very messy. As such, I choose to avoid breaking your boy’s heart. You know, to avoid wiping out the Johansson and Rutgers bloodlines.”
“That’s right,” Bailey grumbles. Despite her frown, I suspect she likes playing with someone who can fight back. I can’t imagine the lopsided battle she has with Sissy.
“You can have a peanut,” Bailey offers, handing me one from the snack bag in her lap.
Nick chuckles nearby. Maybe it’s the movie, but I think he’s always listening. Bailey frowns at her husband, making me believe she suspects the same thing.
I take the peanut and pop it in my mouth despite hating all that salty crap covering it. Peace offerings are sometimes gross, much like the time my father wrote “I’m sorry” in honey on his stomach for Mom. I have no clue what his plan was with that. The words were upside down, and everything attached itself to the honey. Of course, a shower was necessary to clean him up, and my parents swear Dad “rocks wet.” In the end, it’s the thought that counts.
“Can you really call in the Arizona Moving Company?” Bailey asks.
“Of course. I’m sure you could too. Not against us, but for other business. But you have the Ramsey Security team on your payroll. Why do you need more assassins?”
Bailey shrugs. “Never say never.”
“Do you think Bubba will be back soon?” I ask since that’s the only question that really matters to me.
“Am I boring you?”
“I’m worried he isn’t in the right mind to handle those Dogs.”
“The Russians can’t win against my boys. Look how one tried today, and Butch fucked him up.”
“I thought they were Ukrainian.”
“Don’t start with me, Soso,” Bailey sighs. “What kind of name is that?”
“Calypso is my full name.”
“I’m calling you that.”
“Go for it, but I’m not a dog, and I won’t respond.”
Nick chuckles again, causing Bailey to glare at him. When he doesn’t react to her frowning stare, she finally relents and smiles. “Did you know Bubba’s named after his pop? Nick didn’t want that, but I put my foot down. It’s a handsome name, but I started calling my baby Bubba and couldn’t stop.”
“He said I could pick our kids’ names.”
Bailey’s smile is gone in an instant. “It’ll be Sunshine or Peacenik, won’t it?”
“I’m not a hippie.”
Bailey adjusts in her seat, not believing me. “I know what I see. The flowery skirt, those sandals, the bag of granola. If it eats like a duck, the fucking thing’s a duck.”
“Look, Bubba’s mom, you and I won’t see eye to eye on many things. That’s fine, but we’ll need to get used to each other for Bubba’s sake. You’re his beloved mommy, but I’m the woman who owns his heart. He’s mine. I love him. Deal with it, lady.”
Bailey gasps, and I catch Nick fighting laughter. They’re an odd couple. My parents are similar. Salty and sweet is how my dad describes him and Mom.
Bailey prepares to give me grief over calling her “lady” since she’s looking to give me grief over something just to pass the time. Before her bitchiness is unleashed, her firstborn enters the room.
Just like when my dad returned from his work trips, I’m flooded with relief at the sight of Bubba. Until now, I’d fought the urge to imagine him facing off with the Dogs. I couldn’t picture the people with him, where they were at, or what his plan might be. I remained in my happy place, detached from real world worries. Even Bailey couldn’t force me to submit to my fears.
Bubba’s appearance—no obvious injuries, a relatively relaxed look on his sexy face, and that smile when his gaze finds me—are all the proof I need to be sure my hunky puppy is in charge.
Whatever happens next will be a breeze.
THE RUNAWAY
Vlad doesn’t lie well. I don’t know if he hasn’t been human for so long that he can’t remember how they behave, but he ought to show at least some sadness or grief over murdering his cousin. Raised together, these men were lifelong friends. They fucked women together. A lot. If you can pick another man’s dick out of a lineup, you’ve reached a whole new level of friendship.
I don’t expect Vlad to burst into tears at the sight of his dead cousin. He’s the one who pulled the trigger. But he claims he didn’t know anything until a few hours ago. Shouldn’t he at least pretend to be shocked by the sudden violent turn of events that led to his cousin’s death?
Vlad doesn’t seem like a sociopath. I’ve seen him show plenty of emotions from joy at a new virginal club bunny to rage at his pizza missing its sausage. The guy doesn’t react tonight because he always knew his plan with Vigo might go sideways, and this was his contingency plan.
And he doesn’t waste time pretending to care since he figures I’m too stupid to notice anyhow. His arrogance is the reason I insist my guys dispose of Lex’s body. Vlad wants to do it, of course.
“He was your cousin,” I say, faking sympathy. “Killing him couldn’t have been easy. Let us handle shit for you.”
Vlad thinks to push the subject, but I turn away and tell Jack to use the plastic we brought along to wrap up Lex’s body.
I want Vlad and his men to know we came here tonight, planning to kill someone. My goal is for them to behave long enough for Butch to get healthy and help me end these shitheads.
When Jack whips out the plastic, I hope each Dog imagines himself rolled into it. Let them worry while my brother regains his strength. Then we’ll wrap them in plastic for real.
I can’t worry about their judgments tonight. Butch nearly died, and Soso is alone in a new place.
The hospital is eerie after dark. In the maternity ward of the small hospital, my cousin Lily and her newborn son rest. In intensive care, Butch recovers. I don’t know how bad off he is yet. Mom and Pop keep their info vague. I only know he’s out of surgery and Sissy is with him.
I find her kids with Pop on one end of the waiting room while Mom glares at Soso on the other side. My mom sees me and hurries for a hug. She whispers about Vlad. I whisper my response about Lex. She looks surprised. I know she wants more details, but there’s time for that later.
“Has Soso eaten?”
“I gave her a peanut.”
“That she did,” Soso says, standing behind Mom.
My arms can’t get around her fast enough. Soso’s scent brings me back to the triangle house and our evenings together. We rarely watched TV—her set is hidden in a hutch—but instead talked. I feel like I know her better than I know anyone despite us being strangers two weeks ago.
“Do you want to see Butch?” Mom asks, bothered by my need for Soso. I see the disconnect in her expression. She doesn’t understand how I can be this attached to someone I just met. One day, when shit settles down, I’ll fill in mom on the details. Tonight, though, I have two concerns—my brother and the woman I love.
Butch looks so small in the hospital bed, covered with white blankets and hooked up to machines. I haven’t seen him this fragile since we were kids.
Sissy stands on the other side of the bed, lost in her thoughts. She says Butch woke up earlier, though he doesn’t react to my presence.
I need him to know I’m here, and things are handled. He’ll worry once he’s awake. Butch is always stressing about something, and now he has a family to concern himself with. I need to make him understand they’re safe, and I won’t run away again.
Before I leave his room, Butch does wake, and I try to find the right words to express how things went down with Vlad and how I’m back for good. I don’t know if he understands. The drugs likely turn my words into gibberish. I hope he at least understands that all the negative crap between us is over. At least for me, it is.
Soso looks tired when I return to the waiting room. She’s been nibbling on granola for hours, and she must be bored. But she still wears a smile for me when I return to her.
“We’re heading home with the kids,” Pop says, picking up Hart. “Want to follow us back?”
Wrapping Soso in my arms, I ask, “Do you want to get something to eat before we drive to my parents’ house?”
Her dark eyes study my face. “I want to meet Buzz.”
Nodding, I get what she’s doing. Soso might want to be alone for a while, but she knows we’re in the midst of family drama. My mom requires reassurance. Pop needs Mom to settle down. Buzz is likely being extra kooky at home to overcompensate for his worries about Butch. Sissy’s kids need everyone to chill because they’re sponges and soak up the moods around them.
Soso and I leave the hospital, following Mom, Pop, and the kids. I notice a familiar SUV in the parking lot, meaning Cooper, Farah, or both are still with Lily and their newest grandbaby.
I slide into the driver’s seat of the truck and exhale loudly. “I feel like I should say something profound.”
“I’m not going to name our babies Sunshine or Peacenik.”
“Wouldn’t care if you did,” I say, starting the truck.
“Really?”
“Baby, you are Calypso, and no one calls you that. I’m Nikolas, and no one calls me that. You can name our kid Peacenik, and we’ll end up calling him Jellybean or Brass Knuckles.”
Soso scoots over and rests her face against my chest. “I know we’re supposed to follow them home, but wanna make out a little instead?”
“I’ve had a shit day,” I grumble. “My brother almost died. I had to face those Dogs knowing they were lying to me. I watched a man get his face blown off. Once we get to my house, Mom will want to talk to me alone and go over everything that happened.”
Soso watches me, knowing my grumpy routine is for show. Man, this woman knows me down to my core. “So, yes, then?”
Kissing her feels like freedom. Earlier, I started worrying that I might fall back into bad habits now that I’m home. Tense about my mother and uncles pushing me around. Agitated over leaving my brother vulnerable.
With Soso, though, I’m the man I need to be. And with Soso, that’s who I’ll remain.
THE CHAPTER WHERE BOURBON SAVES THE DAY
THE BOHEMIAN
My first few days in Conroe teach me that I’m not nearly as zen as I believe. I’m instantly homesick when I wake up at Bubba’s house. I feel far away from my family, friends, and pets. I miss my house even if this one is larger and swankier. Everything feels too different from the scents to the way the birds sing outside.
I want to go home.
But I don’t tell Bubba this because he’s dealing with too much, and I’m not a child. I knew moving here would be difficult. I just figured I’d have some of my security blankets with me—mainly Freki, Ula, and Bjork.
For the next few days, I only focus on Bubba rather than engage with his family. I get to know them on a surface level, of course. Bailey gives me grief. Nick is kind. Buzz cracks me up. His kid eats my last homemade beef jerky, but I’m too self-conscious in this big house to make more.
That’s the weirdest part. My parents have more money than Bailey’s. In theory anyway, but the Davies’ house is huge. There are four sections—one for the parents and another one each for the boys—that meet up in the middle with a kitchen and family room. There’s also an indoor pool and a massive basement with a pool table and play area.
I always knew my family lived modestly, but this fact smacks me in the face now. Feeling out of sorts, I follow Bubba around like a dog.
“My hunky puppy,” he teases when I keep asking to go with him.
If the Davies’ house is vast and decadent compared to my parents’, then Conroe is the flipside of Hickory Creek. There’s nothing to do in the town. I promise myself I’ll be so busy with my new home and Bubba—along with Freki and the birds—that I won’t have time to miss the proximity to a big city. Hickory Creek Township has Nashville. Conroe’s closest big town is Bowling Green. Ugh.
But Conroe also has Bubba, and he’s the reason I breathe now. However, I can’t help giggling like a maniac when my family arrives that weekend.
Mom waves from the passenger window as Keanu pulls the SUV into the driveway. Then I hear the booming sound of the Dropkick Murphys along with the rumble of a chopper. Dad rolls up the road, making as much noise as possible. He even pulls on the throttle dramatically before finally turning off the engine.
“The man loves making a scene,” I proudly tell Bubba.
Behind us, Bailey and Nick exit the house to investigate the racket my father makes. Dad walks to the SUV to open the passenger door for Mom, who throws her arms around his neck and plants a kiss on his lips. She very much approves of his display of dominance. In fact, I swear they’re ready to go at it against the SUV.
Before they can rip off each other’s clothes and give us all a show, Bailey loudly clears her throat.
Dad pops his lips free from Mom’s and smirks at Bubba’s mom.
“Rutgers,” she mutters.
“Johansson. Glad to hear you got your rack reduced. I’m a fan of au naturel,” Dad says, wrapping an arm around Mom’s shoulders.
Nick mimics Dad’s move by sliding his arm around Bailey. I suspect his gesture has more to do with keeping his woman calm, though.
Bubba does the intros while I walk around to the back of the SUV where Keanu holds Freki and checks on the birds under their covered cage.
&nbs
p; “They slept the entire way,” he says.
“Thank you.”
Hearing the emotion in my voice, Keanu hands me the dog and hugs me against him.
“I’m going to miss seeing you all the time.”
“I’m scared,” I admit. “I’m not sure I can handle all this new stuff.”
Keanu hugs me tighter. “You’re strong enough to handle anything, Soso. Just think of all the fun crap you and Kentucky can do together. A new house that belongs to you both. Also, your new friends won’t know all our stories. You’ll seem exciting to them.”
Smiling, I wish my family could move to Conroe with me. The idea is dumb, but they’re the one part of Hickory Creek I can never replicate here.
“You okay?” Bubba asks.
Keanu steps back, knowing the drill. A woman needs her man. He goes through it with Cap and Audrey a lot. No doubt Keanu needs his woman right now too.
“Lotte will be home by the end of summer,” I say, and Keanu nods. He knows she’s coming back. I just think he worries she’ll need her family like I need mine, and hers aren’t a few hours away.
We carry the birdcage and Freki to where my parents stare at Bubba’s. I can’t figure out what they’ve been discussing, but Bailey asks, “Are you hippies too?”
“I’m a home care technician,” Mom announces, “and he kills people.”
“Not a lot of people,” Dad says. “And not every day.”
“Lots of people kill people,” Bailey grumbles like only a Johansson can. “It’s not a big thing and nothing to brag about.”
“I wasn’t bragging.”
“My father killed more people than you have.”
“My father fucked more ho-bags than you have.”
Bailey blinks a few times, unsure how to respond. “I cooked dinner.”
“We planned to eat out.”
“We could eat here,” Mom says helpfully.
“I made spoonbread.”
Mom’s smile disappears. “Or not.”
“Bread for dinner?” Dad asks.
“It’s a Kentucky delicacy.”
“Is it nasty, Harmony?” Dad asks my mom as if she has access to all the knowledge in the world.
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