“Who? You talking about Sunshine?”
“No, my brother! Of course, I mean Sunshine, jackass.”
“Nah,” he grumbles with a rasp, sounding like one of the damn goats on the ranch and waves me off. He takes another large gulp of his liquor laced soda as I regard him. I’m curious with his response, wanting him to elaborate more.
“Why not?”
“You want her married, or somethin’?” His eyes meet mine, and I scowl.
“Hell no, of course, I don’t want her with someone else.”
“Then she’s not.”
I shake my head with a chuckle and prop up a new board next to the one I left off with. “You’re something else, man.”
“I’m just saying if she was married and you wanted her? You’d take her right out of the arms of whoever she’s with. You and I both know it. So to me, that makes her automatically un-married.”
“You have a point, cousin.” I grin. “Can’t help it if we Owenses are legends in these parts when it comes to the ladies.”
He nods and hands over four of the new, three-inch-long nails we just purchased to drive into the post. I place two at the top and two at the bottom. With a quick swing of my hammer, I drive them into the board one at a time.
“So, do you have a plan yet?”
“Not quite. I don’t know if she’s here for good or if she’s in town briefly and then taking off right away.”
“Good thinking, wouldn’t want to waste time on her after the way she left you the last time.”
With a cringe, I hiss, “Ouch. Thanks, D.”
He waves me off, handing me four more nails as we move to work on the next board. Taking another big gulp from his massive mixed drink, he grabs four more nails from the bucket he’d just finished refilling.
“How about you actually nail some of these planks in place? Clyde’s not paying you to get drunk and hand me nails all day.”
“Clyde’s not paying me,” he mentions, and I pause.
“Wait…he’s not? Since when?”
“Nope. Said he can’t afford it right now. Being the upstanding citizen I am, I offered to help out around here for some shine in return. Hence me asking you for some earlier.” He winks.
“Trust me; he counts his moonshine as payment. So start hammering before he hunts your ass down.”
“Your family’s so damn bossy. Glad that gene didn’t carry over to me,” he complains, making me chuckle a bit more.
I bet Clyde’s wife has something to do with him not giving Dallas any cash. I need to find out what’s going on if my brother will even tell me anything. He has trouble admitting when he needs any kind of help. He’s still newly married to Shyla, and his head is on one thing only—his wife. Can’t say I blame him. My younger brother is the same way when it comes to his woman as well.
Well, minus stuff being done around the ranch, that is. Clyde has absolutely no problem with barking orders when shit needs to be fixed here. Anything else, however, especially money wise, he keeps to himself. It’s most likely from having to step into the role of a parental figure to my brother and me. He seems to forget that we’re grown men now, and he’s not actually our father—just the oldest sibling.
“Maybe it’s time I tell my brothers about my job,” I suggest.
Dallas knows what I do, and I knew he’d be the only one not to judge me for it.
“I thought you said we had to keep quiet about it until you had enough money to get your own place. Bedsides don’t you think he has an idea already?”
“Yeah, that was the plan, but I think Clyde could use the money more right now. I hope he doesn’t know. I’m pretty sure if he did, he’d hammer my ass about it.” My family is far more important to me than my pride. Clyde may let his own get in the way of asking for help, but I refuse to make the same mistake.
“How much do ya have saved anyhow?”
“Around five grand, give or take a few bucks.”
His eyebrows rise as he whistles through his teeth at the number. It’s not much to me, just a few months of tips. For Dallas, though, that’s a decent chunk compared to the five or six hundred dollars he makes every few weeks on odd jobs. His parents have some money, but they’re trying to teach my cousins to make it on their own before they give them their full inheritance. Every time Dallas pisses one of them off, they threaten to cut him off completely. That shit has to get old; it does for me, and I’m not their son.
“Guess we ain’t going to be roommates anytime soon, then.” He sighs, and I shake my head.
“Probably not.”
He shrugs, throwing back more of his liquor and soda combo. “Do what you gotta do.”
I close my eyes, screwing my face up in a cringe. I exhale, asking, “How the hell do I tell my brothers I’m a stripper?”
“Women pay you to take your clothes off. Shit could be a lot worse. You could be the one spending money to get them naked instead.”
“You have a point, D. That’ll get Ty off my back about it too.”
“He still bothering you about being out late at night? He ain’t too busy?”
“Yep, no matter what he has going on, he attempts to keep his nose in my business. The guy is far too smart and observant for his own good, probably why he can catch anything thrown in his direction on the football field. Now he’ll know why I’m never able to hang out when he stays over and will hopefully finally stop with the bullshit teasing he does every chance he gets.”
“Well then, it sounds like a win-win, cousin.” Dallas’s brows go up with a pleased grin tipping his lips. You’d think he just cured world hunger with his smug expression.
I learned a long time ago not to listen to my cousin’s half-assed advice or scheming plans, but for once, I think he may be right. Shit could be way worse. Women pay me to see my body.
I’m about to give Clyde some money to help out around here whether his pride likes it or not. Hell, they may actually be proud of me, but I won’t hold my breath on it. Lord knows if my momma were still around, she’d chase me down with a spatula of some sort at hearing my news. I should expect nothing less from my brothers.
Two days later…
So the news isn’t going over quite like I was imagining, and they aren’t exactly proud of me after all. Wishful thinking on my part, I suppose, expecting my brothers to think of me as a grown-ass man. I should’ve known with a star athlete for a younger brother and a damn good rancher for an older brother. I just can’t win with these two.
“Seriously, Nate?” Clyde grumbles.
“Just take the money I have saved. Obviously, something’s going on with you and Shyla.”
His wife has a decent job in real estate, but I think he wants her home more with him. If she isn’t working as much as she’s used to, it could be affecting their bank balance. I don’t want him having any issues when it comes to something I can lend a hand with. We watched our parents struggle time and time again; I don’t want them to do the same. It was hard enough watching Clyde stressed before he finally gave in and admitted he wanted Shyla in the first place. He’s a stubborn brute.
“I’ll handle it,” he grumbles, saying the same shit he always does.
Ty glances between us, his forehead wrinkled. “I don’t get it, Clyde, what’s the big deal with him helping? I was wondering what I could do to assist you as well.”
“Look,” Clyde huffs, “the ranch is my responsibility. You two…” He points at both Ty and me. “You both are my responsibility as well. Tyler, you worry about playing ball; playing pro is all that should be on your mind at the moment. Nathanial, I’ll take the cash, but find a different fucking job and keep doing the tasks I give you.”
“Hey, what the fuck? You’re saying my full name like I’m in trouble or something, bro! And what’s wrong with what I do? Why are you only taking money this once?” I pepper the questions one after the other, tired of their scrutiny.
“This isn’t some kind of intervention and shit,” he grumbles, gr
owing increasingly grouchy. It’s completely typical behavior for my brother though. “I’m in charge around here; we do things my way. Got it?” he finishes, and I have to refrain from retorting that he’s a bullheaded bastard.
Ty and I both nod, irritated. Clyde acts like a stubborn old mule when we question him on anything. My dad was a proud man, but my brother takes that meaning to an entirely different level. My money’s good enough to take right now; I don’t understand why it won’t be in the future as well if he needs it.
“The oil rigs called me again,” I share. When I brought it up a year ago, it turned into a huge argument. “I can head over to the port.” It’s not what I want to do with my life, but, then again, neither is stripping, I suppose.
Clyde’s eyes widen for a split second as Ty rubs his hand over his face not uttering a word. This is how it gets with us and news. I feel sorry for the women who end up stuck with us.
My oldest sibling huffs, “Fine! You know what? Keep the stripper job, fuck if I care,” he sighs with frustration.
“What?” Ty interrupts shocked by Clyde giving in so easily. “Mom would stroke out if she knew he was working down at The Dollars Club! The woman is probably turning in her grave over this…God rest her soul.”
“Well, he doesn’t need to be out on some oil rig in the middle of the Gulf either!” Clyde argues, raising his voice. “She’d want him home and safe first and foremost.” He glances toward the clock above the small sofa table we keep the mail on. “It’s getting late, and you need to go back, Tyler. Football has to be your priority,” he repeats.
“Fine.” Ty flicks his stormy gaze between Clyde and me. He grabs his duffle bag and heads for the front door in a hurry.
“Drive safe,” I call behind him. He may be a pain in my ass, but I never let him leave without me saying bye first.
“We’ll see you soon,” Clyde hollers, moving to the kitchen to fill a glass of water.
“Later,” Ty replies, and then he’s gone, pissed to be cut out of our discussion. He’s the youngest though; we’ve always left him out of stuff the most. It’s shitty, but we’re his older brothers, and it’s our jobs to protect him and not have him worry.
Clyde easily drinks down half the glass’s contents before setting the cup beside him. “I don’t like the strippin’. It’s bullshit if you ask me, but I don’t want you to disappear out on a rig in the middle of the ocean. Dad didn’t want it back when you were an adolescent and brought it up as a career option, and neither do I.”
“I’m not a kid anymore…grew up a long time ago.”
“I know. All the more reason you can fix things around the ranch like I ask and not make dumb decisions.”
Not wanting to discuss it any longer, I concede, “All right. If you need some money, just ask, it’s not an issue.”
“Noted,” he responds and chugs the rest of his water.
“I’m taking a nap before tonight.”
“You working?”
“Yeah, till 2:00 a.m.”
He nods, setting his cup in his designated spot, and without another word, walks out the kitchen door, heading outside to do who knows what.
I have a long night ahead, so I head to my room to hit the hay for a few hours.
***
“Close” by Nick Jonas begins to thrum throughout the strip club. It couldn’t be more perfect right now. My set has ended, so I head toward Sunshine and her group of friends. I noticed her the moment she entered the bar. Hell, I could pick her out anywhere—at any time—whether it’s light or dark. I was shocked to find her in a place like this. She’s too good to be here; she deserves a quiet home with a family who loves her and a husband who dotes on her.
The club is dark, with various colored lights shining toward the stage. It draws everyone’s attention to where it needs to be—right up front. The fog machine by the bar creates a smoky illusion along the floor. There are small tables in front of the stage, and round, high-top tables toward the middle of the room. In the back of the room, lining the perimeter, are booths of all sizes. The place is laid out so you can see the stage from anywhere in the room. I know at some point tonight Sunshine had to have seen me.
The women notice my approach, grinning from ear to ear. Sunshine smiles at them, carrying on about something. Even better that she came in when I had a mask on. She has no idea it was me stripping in front of her earlier. I had to take the opportunity to look my fill.
I was right before—about her face not changing. She looks the same. Up close, however, I notice her breasts seem a bit heavier, her hips rounder. She no longer looks like the sweet, innocent girl that I once knew. She’s evolved into a full-blown woman—a very sexy woman who has my cock extra hard.
I move right behind her, and my hands slide around her torso. It’s firmer than I was expecting. She was soft the last time I held her. This woman has spent time in a gym. Her back stiffens, so I quickly pull her curvy body into my frame, holding her to me. Tucking my nose into the crook where her shoulder and neck meet, my hips gyrate to the beat. They’re in work mode right now, moving wherever the music tells them to.
She stands rigidly in my embrace. Her body only sways because of my movements taking her side to side. God, she smells so good.
“Come on,” I rasp, “Sunshine, move with me.” I whisper the words against her flesh and keep dancing. I relish in feeling goosebumps overtake her iced vanilla mocha skin.
She stiffens, so I take a step back. As she turns toward me, surprised that I’d backed off, or perhaps that I’d uttered her name, I tug her into my front. I rest my forehead against hers and place my hands on the small of her back. I love taking her by surprise; she’s so gorgeous whenever her cheeks take on that rosy hue. She may have left me years back, but I’ll never forget what it feels like inside my chest when I have her in my arms.
Her warm breath flutters over my face as she sighs, finally moving her hips. I know she’ll easily keep up; we used to dance like this all the time. She loved ballet dancing, and I was always her partner, learning the moves she taught me, trying to keep up. God, to sit back and watch her move was like watching a beautiful bird fly. She’d glide and soar, her feet and body moving fluidly wherever she desired. I never took advantage of us dancing so closely, and damn it, I should’ve every single time. It’s too little, too late now; besides, it obviously meant nothing to her—she left me without warning.
After a beat, her delicate fingertips run over my bare abs, resting under my pecs, just like she used to do. The first time it’d happened, she’d been swimming and lost her footing. I’d dragged her out of the pond as she was sputtering and flailing. Pulling her to my chest, I’d repeated over and over how I’d never allow anything to harm her, and she’d touched me just like this.
I miss her hands on me. Fuck, I can’t believe she’s here now and discovering I’m a stripper.
Her breath being so close to my lips starts to drive me wild inside. The desire to kiss her like she’s never been kissed before grows stronger. But she already has; I made sure of it. Sixteen or not, I was having her—lips, tongue, everything.
Sunshine was my best friend while growing up. We were together almost daily. She would be at the ranch, always swimming with me in our pond during the summer, lying out in that sexy little pink bikini with the white polka dots. Fuck, I wanted her so badly no matter how much I’d fought with those thoughts. Even worse, I still want her now.
My lips find her neck again, and I can’t hold myself back from rubbing them against the tender skin. She used to giggle and squirm when I’d do it to her back in the day once we’d finally crossed the line of friendship. I loved hearing her happy...her tinkle of a laugh.
The song comes to an end, and I’m silently reminiscing of how amazing she’d felt when I’d entered her that first time. She’d cried, and I’d kissed her warm tears away, whispering how much I loved her.
I loved her. My heart still hurts.
My eyes shoot open, meeting hers as
we both breathe heavily, damn near panting. Her flushed cheeks make me want her even more. I’ve seen them really reddened before when I’d pushed deep inside and it’d finally begun to feel good for her. She’d begged me to keep going.
“Na-Nathanial?” Her voice is a bucket of cold water to my memories. I no longer see those perfect little glimpses, but remembering her voice from that fucked up day. The exact same tone from when she’d told me that she was going and her parents had just informed her that she was moving. There was no time for a proper good-bye, just a quick hug, and then in the next blink, she was driving off to never return…until now.
It was the same day that my parents died.
I was too busy being pissed off at Sunshine that I barely even looked at my mom. I was so disrespectful toward her, moping around. I didn’t even say good-bye to her or my father that day when they’d left—when they’d gotten into their vehicle and never came back home.
Seventeen years old and I was a fucking orphan.
Practically jumping back, I plaster on a grin that’s all show. “Ladies.” Nodding toward them, I ignore Sunshine. “Gotta go, just wanted to stop over. Enjoy yourself.”
She and I can never be. I won’t allow myself to hurt that badly again, ever. Not even for my precious Sunshine. The best thing she can do for both of us is to leave again and never return.
“Nathanial?” she repeats, nearly pleading for me as I give her my back. Striding toward the roped-off area of the club, I take quick steps.
I have to get the fuck out of here, away from her and that day.
I can hear her call my name again, spurring me on to a jog. Passing through the back curtain in a rush, I throw on my black wife beater tank top and my dad’s old Alabama ball cap. It’s from when Clyde was there, playing college football before my life turned to shit.
“You out?” Pork Chop the massive bouncer asks.
“Yep, I’ve already tipped out everyone.” Pulling a twenty free from my jeans, I hand it to him, and he opens the back door, watching me as I trek to my truck. He doesn’t turn away until I’m inside and the vehicle’s started. He’s a good dude and worth every penny to work security. We’ve had some pissed off husbands show up, and he’s kept them from coming after any of the dancers.
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