Booze O'clock

by Bijou Hunter

  “Round and round, he goes,” Cricket says while I make a pair of tape panties for Howler.

  “Tape his tits too,” Cap says, and I frown at him. “What? It hurts when those hairs get ripped off.”

  “I really don’t need to know about your sex life right now, Cap.”

  “Lick my hairy crack,” he says, zooming in his camera to show my handiwork. “Do his tits now.”

  Giving into my angelic—albeit annoying as fuck—brother, I cover Howler’s nipples with tape. I also slap some across that strip of hair from his belly button to his crotch.

  “Done?” I ask my audience.

  “You could take a few of his toes,” Poet suggests.

  Cricket nuzzles his chest. “No, honey, that’s gross.”

  “Fine then,” I announce and sigh. “Let’s get this naked fucker dropped off and call it a night.”

  I wish I could do more to Howler, but stealing his dentures and leaving him taped and naked will have to be enough to sate my need for vengeance. If I change my mind, I can always kill him later. For now, though, I have a gift to offer my breezy when I pop the big question tonight.

  TATUM

  Chipper arrives at his parents’ house around eleven. By then, I doze on the couch, having stolen it from D.B. when the dog went outside to pee. Candy left for bed after letting him inside. I remain in the living room where Hayes watches the end of a very boring old baseball game.

  “I’ve returned,” Chipper whispers in my ear as he wakes me.

  “I’m sleeping.”

  “I’ll carry you to the car.”

  “Don’t touch me. I’m sleepy.”

  “Are you on your period again?” he asks, nuzzling my neck. “Should I fear for my chopper?”

  “Can we sleep here? I don’t want to go into the cold.”

  Chipper looks up at his father staring at the TV. “We’re bunking here tonight.”

  “Don’t care.”

  “Oh, Papa,” Chipper whimpers in a little boy voice.

  Through partially open eyes, I see Hayes smirk. He doesn’t say anything, and Chipper stops tormenting him.

  “I had a big plan for tonight,” Chipper whispers to me. “A really romantic one too.”

  “In the future, your romantic plans should take place earlier in the evening. I like to sleep at night.”

  Chipper sits on the floor next to the couch and caresses my head. “Did you have fun tonight?”

  “I can’t tell you. It’s a secret.”

  Grinning at me, Chipper rests his head on the couch and watches the TV. “I swear I’ve seen this game before.”

  “I’m going to sleep now.”

  “Or you can join me in the guest room.”

  “No nookie.”

  “With as loud as I get? Of course not.”

  “You are a sex-crazed diva,” I whisper and sit up. “It’s one reason I love you.”

  Chipper jumps up and pulls me to my feet. His lips are on mine quickly, and he continues kissing me while guiding us to the guest room. I wave at Hayes but have no idea if he notices.

  Once in the bedroom, Chipper pulls back the blankets and kicks off his shoes. “Mom keeps a few of my clothes here. Do you want to sleep in one of my shirts? Or I can find something of Cricket’s.”

  “Your shirt would be nice,” I say, smiling at the sight of him now standing in only his boxers. “I did have a nice time with your parents tonight. We talked about Thanksgiving, and I have an assigned food to bring. Made me feel like a part of the family.”

  Chipper walks to the dresser and finds a pale blue and white Tennessee Titans shirt. I love how it fits me like a loose dress. Smiling at him, I climb into bed and squirm lower under the covers.

  “I missed you tonight. I even worried a little.”

  “I wish I’d gotten back earlier.”

  “Because of your romantic plans?” I ask, reaching for him when he only stands next to the bed.

  “Yeah, but it can wait until tomorrow.”

  “Or you can do it now.”

  “No, it should be romantic.”

  “Like how we met and I puked, and you took me to your house where I puked again?”

  “Yeah, you were so sexy that night.”

  “We can wait, but I don’t need romance. I need you. I did that night. And the night I freaked out about meeting Bonn. And when I was drowning in loneliness at the rental house. And so many other times. So you wait until tomorrow if it’s to make you happy, but for me, I’ll be happy as long as I have you.”

  Chipper studies me for a seriously long amount of time. I even yawn twice before he kneels down and searches his jacket pockets. Watching him, I’m more focused on the muscles rippling in his back than what he has in his hand.

  Kneeling next to the bed, Chipper sighs softly. “I had thought about the right words, but there are no right ones. When I told people I fell in love with you at first sight, they laughed at me, and they weren’t wrong. The words sound fucking stupid. Some things, though, are beyond words. They’re not sensible. Love is one of those things. I saw you, and I knew, and I was right.”

  My face flushes bright red before spreading to the rest of my body and leaving me a giggling fool. Chipper smiles at my reaction and then reveals a red box.

  “This is my first gift,” he says, sounding adorably nervous.

  I stare at the box, but we both know I’m too indecisive to open it any time soon. Chipper removes the lid to reveal... Wait, what?

  “I don’t get it.”

  “I’m sorry I mocked toothless hillbillies and made you feel insecure,” he says and picks up what my brain informs me are top dentures. “These belong to Howler. I meant to yank out his teeth, but he doesn’t have any left so these are all I could get you.”

  I stare at the dentures and then look at him with a horrified frown. “You took these from him.”

  “Right out of his mouth while he was knocked out.”

  Bursting into inappropriate laughter, I fall back on the bed. Howler’s dentures are in a box. Chipper stole them. The man I love knocked out the man I hate and stole his fucking teeth!

  “That’s the funniest thing I’ve ever heard,” I cry, struggling to breathe. “You took his teeth. He’s going to wake up with an empty mouth. That’s insane. You’re literally crazy.” I reach for him and pull him closer for a kiss. “The best people are insane, you know?”

  “It’s our family motto,” he says and covers my lips with his.

  Soaking in his heat, I wrap him tighter against me. When our lips part, I whisper, “Then I want to be crazy too. I love you, and I love my gift.”

  I start giggling again, thinking of Howler waking up to find his teeth missing. Without a doubt, Chipper covered his tracks, so I don’t even ask if he’s safe from retribution. My man knows how to handle crazy stuff like this as well as he knows how to handle me.

  “I love you,” I whisper against his lips.

  Chipper rests a small gift box on my stomach. “Then be my wife.”

  My breath catches, and I suffer from a momentary panic. Choices make me freeze up, but spending my life with Chipper isn’t really a choice.

  “But what about the government knowing our business?” I ask, smiling at him.

  “Let them. I want everyone to know I love you and you’re mine.”

  “Yes, then. Always yes.”

  Chipper moves aside the large box with the dentures inside before climbing into the bed and opening the ring box.

  “I’m assuming you washed your hands with really hot water after the Howler thing, right?” I whisper as he slides the ring on my finger.

  Giving me a sweet frown, he says, “It doesn’t fit.”

  “I know what does,” I tease and set the loose ring on the side table. “I promise to be quiet if you do.”

  The frown gone from his face, Chipper glances at the door. “Did I lock it?”

  “I did. I mean, like we were really going to go to bed without nookie. You’re t
rying to knock me up, remember?” I say, winking at him.

  “Oh, yes, I do, Missus Dole-Wilburn.”

  Wrapping him tighter in my arms, I can’t imagine loving this man any more than I do this moment. “You hyphenated,” I coo before kissing him.

  Chipper never gets the chance to answer because my lips refuse to leave his. As our limbs tangle together, I struggle with a whirlwind of emotions—overwhelmed by love, hopeful for the future, amused at the idea of a denture-less Howler, and blessed to find joy after the pain of losing my mother.

  Everything I have is because Chipper Wilburn saw me across a stinking bar and decided I belonged to him.

  14—CHIPPER

  Tatum’s first Thanksgiving at my parents’ house involves overeating, falling asleep during football games, and playing in the snow.

  As per her assigned food offering, she brings a ham to dinner. Troublemaker Bianca Bella not only sends sriracha honey Brussels sprouts that only Cap has the balls to try, but she also convinces Tatum to add pineapple to her dish.

  “Just no,” Hayes says once Tatum reveals the pineapple covered ham. An hour later, he asks for seconds with double the slices of pineapple. “I’ve had worse,” he mutters, refusing to admit he’s a fan.

  Calling his bluff, Tatum says, “I’ll bring something else next year.”

  Hayes exhales roughly. Despite smiling, Tatum avoids his gaze. Few people can challenge the old man to a stare-off without fearing for their lives. I’ve even pissed myself a time or two when he eyeballed me for too long.

  After dinner, the mini-twins and Tatum enjoy the first snow of the season. I expect Miss Florida to freeze immediately and want back inside. Hell, I’m already coming up with ideas to convince her from bailing on the snow when she cries, “I’m making my first snowman!” My woman is deliriously excited to freeze her ass off in the cold.

  Long after the mini-twins retreat inside for cocoa, Tatum remains in the backyard. I help create a face on her mutant, lopsided snowman before literally carrying her into the house.

  “It’s snowing again,” I say as she struggles to remain in the backyard. “You’ll get sick.”

  “I’ve never felt more alive!”

  “Hey, that hurts my feelings. No way should snow successfully compete with my chopper.”

  Tatum grins at me as I tug her into the house. “No, no, it can’t, but snow is a close second.”

  “I thought my tongue took second place,” I announce to my parents’ irritation when we enter. I look at them staring at me from their huge recliners. “What? I’m notorious for my potent, limber tongue.”

  “Son, I love you, but shut the fuck up about your tongue,” Mom says, and Hayes chuckles.

  “When did you get so sensitive?” I ask, still holding Tatum around the waist so she can’t escape back into the snowy yard.

  “Your mother decided to sneak a bite of that crap Bianca Bella sent. Now she’ll end up shitting all night.”

  “You can shut the fuck up too,” Mom tells Hayes.

  The old man laughs harder at her anger and probably gets a little hard.

  “Save it for the bedroom, you two,” I mutter and shut the door.

  No longer struggling with me, Tatum begins unbundling herself. I do the same until we’re in our socks and sweats. Cricket brings us cups of cocoa, and we join the family in the living room where a football game plays on the huge TV.

  Tatum and the mini-twins cuddle under a massive plush blanket on the floor. Cricket rests against Poet on one couch while I sit on the other with Cap.

  “Are you having a wedding?” Cap asks me during a commercial.

  “Eventually. It’s up to Tatum.”

  “Can I be your best man?”

  “A pair of dentures says you can.”

  Cap grins at Cricket shaking her head. “Poet helped too.”

  “I don’t want to be his best man,” her husband says while playing with her hair. “I was the best man at my brother’s wedding, and that was enough drama to last me a lifetime.”

  “Wimp,” Cricket whispers.

  “What if I don’t want a wedding?” Tatum asks from the floor. “Having everyone stare at me sounds terrifying.”

  “How about you say you’re married and call it a day?” Hayes mutters without looking at us. “I pronounce you husband and wife. Done. You’re welcome. Now feel free to kiss the bride, but keep that shit PG-rated.”

  Tatum peeks out from the blanket and grins at me. “It’s official.”

  “Missus Wilburn,” I say, sliding onto the floor and crawling toward her.

  Cap clears his throat. “I don’t want to be a bitch.”

  “Then stop talking now,” I tell him while Tatum grins at my approach.

  “I didn’t get to do anything as your best man.”

  “You can throw me a bachelor party. I’m thinking booze and a viewing of ‘Kingpin.’ Will you get on that , bro-angel?”

  “Why ‘Kingpin?’”

  “Fine, we can watch a bad horror movie instead. As long as I’m drunk, I’ll think anything’s funny.”

  With my gaze focused on Tatum as I join her and the sleepy mini-twins under the blanket, I don’t know if Cap agrees to my plan. His lack of bitching makes me think he’s cool with it. Then again, the game comes back on, and the adults in the room get very serious about the close score.

  Me, though, I’m all about my blonde wife, her easy smile, and those delicious freckles.

  “I get married and enjoy my first snow on the same day,” she whispers as I spoon her on the floor. “This was quite a Thanksgiving.”

  “We ate turkey,” Murphy mumbles with his eyes closed.

  Tatum covers her mouth and laughs at the sleepy children. I snuggle closer and enjoy how relaxed she is with my family. More than once today, I expected her to get depressed about her first Thanksgiving without her mother. Those tears might still appear tonight. Or perhaps they’ll show up in a few days when the holiday fun shifts into everyday mundane.

  “I hope I’m pregnant by our next Thanksgiving,” Tatum whispers and places my hand on her stomach. “Then I’ll be bloated from a baby and not too much mashed potatoes.”

  “Most likely both. I do make some fine fucking taters.”

  Tatum arches her back and twists until her lips nuzzle my throat. I consider moaning approvingly, but making sexy noises while sharing a blanket with two four-year-olds is too pervy for even me.

  Rather than feel her up, I kiss Tatum gently and fall silent while the game rages on. Mom mentions something about a pie, but no one moves. Hayes eventually curses a ref, and the sleeping mini-twins mumble the profanity without waking. Tatum giggles at their antics. She also snickers at the sight of Cap asleep hanging half off the couch. Then when Cricket lets loose with a toxic burp and Tatum doesn’t react, I know my breezy has dozed off, and we’ll be sleeping over for the night. For me, I can’t think of a better way to end our first Thanksgiving together.

  TATUM

  Somehow, I’m still stuffed two days after Thanksgiving. I barely eat when we stop at Pot Pie Palace. I watch Chipper enjoying his steak and mushroom lunch and imagine him shirtless later in the home gym while working off the calories. No doubt he’ll work off even more inside me.

  “Can we hang out in the snow when we get home?” I ask while we sit at a red light after visiting our last stop for the day.

  “There isn’t much snow left, but it’s not like you need to ask for permission.”

  Studying the overcast sky, I wish the weather remained cold enough for the snow to stick around a while longer. “I’m not asking for permission. I’m asking you to join me.”

  “I’d rather watch. You’re damn entertaining when you go snow crazy.”

  Grinning, I reach over to caress his jaw. “I thought I’d hate snow. Now I’m as addicted to it as I am your chopper.”

  “You are addicted, aren’t you? I assumed you would be, but it’s still such an ego booster to hear.”

  “
Wasn’t Chevelle addicted?”

  “No, she hated the snow,” he says, once again refusing to be sucked into my insecurities. “It’s why she went stupid for Jamaica. The heat and humidity suit her. She loves working at a resort as a bartender. She tossed aside small town life for the anonymity of meeting strangers from around the world. Tennessee was never going to make her happy. Makes you wonder what the fuck is wrong with her, doesn’t it?” he says as we get stuck at another red light. “I mean, this town is fucking great. A cold winter is fucking great. Spring in Tennessee is fucking gorgeous. You’re going to love it. Maybe not as much as you love the snow, but it’ll charm you, I’m sure.”

  “Wasn’t Ruby a bartender?” I ask, trying to remember the dozens of details I picked up during our last dinner at Bonn’s house.

  “Yeah, a long time ago. Like you, Chevelle is a mama’s girl. She’s a daddy’s girl too. A bit of a duel kiss ass really.”

  “I know I’m weird about Chevelle, but I’ll meet her soon, and I want to get over my insecurities. The more you talk about her, the less terrifying she becomes.”

  “Chevelle’s a sweetheart. In a fight, I bet you could even take her. Fuck, especially if you were drunk. You get wild when Mistress Booze is in charge.”

  Laughing, I realize I’ve been smiling pretty much nonstop since Chipper brought me Howler’s dentures and asked me to be his wife. The only time my depression returned was when Chipper joined Hayes at the casino. I was certain I didn’t need a babysitter.

  “You’ll have to leave me alone eventually,” I told him.

  So he did, and I ended up crying on the couch while watching videos of my mom. I tried to imagine her watching over me, but I was blinded by my sorrow at seeing how bright and alive she was only a year ago.

  I cried for maybe ten minutes when something jumped on me. Thinking Muffin Top—or Muffy as I’d taken to calling her—might have stirred from her never-ending nap, I instead found Camel Toe—or Cami—at my side. The cat hadn’t given me much attention since I moved in except to nearly trip me one evening when I tried to find the bathroom in the dark. Otherwise, she acted as if I didn’t exist.