by Fields, MJ
I feel hands around my waist, then Garrett pulls me back against him. “This song gets me hard, wife.”
“Is that so?” I laugh, leaning back against him.
“Think of fucking you every time it comes on.” He kisses my neck as he sways us back and forth. “How about we get out of here?”
“Sounds like a plan. Let’s say goodbye to Brandon.”
We spot him in the corner. He looks exhausted. He’s going back to the house with Garrett’s parents. We are only going away for two nights. When I get this cast off, Garrett’s taking me away and won’t tell me where.
“You tired, Brand?” Garretts asks, bending down when we reach him.
He crosses his arms over his chest. “I wanna go home.”
“What’s wrong, Brandon?” I ask.
He runs his hand over his little Mohawk that thankfully is growing out.
“Bell Steel gave her little sister the necklace I gave her.”
“Oh, wow. Well, maybe she wanted to borrow it?” I suggest.
“No, Bell said Kiki and I are closer in age, so we’d be friends longer.” He swings his little foot as if he’s kicking the air. “I told her I don’t want to be her friend, and that I’m gonna marry her someday.”
Garrett and I look at each other.
“She told me it was adorable. I’m not adorable! I’m a cowboy, and I told her that.”
“And what did she say?” I ask.
“She kissed my cheek and told me I was even more adorable.” He rolls his eyes.
“You’re looking at this all wrong, Brand,” Garrett says, tipping up his chin. “She kissed you, bud. You should be grinning like a fool.”
“Maybe.” He shakes his head. “But then Kiki came up and kissed me square on the lips.”
“Two kisses in one night?” Garrett asks.
“So then Bell looks at her and I, and smiles and says, ‘Oooo, I think this is the start of something.’ It’s gross, Dad. Kiki is a baby.”
“Everything okay?” Gail asks from behind us.
“I’m tired, Grandma. I wanna go home.”
“Do you want us to stay home, Brandon. If—”
“No way. I’ll be fine.” He stands up and looks at Gail. “I need to leave here now, Grandma.”
She waves to her husband. “Of course. Let’s go.”
“You and Grandpa stay at the door. I’ll be right back.” He looks at us and gives us each a hug. “Have a good time.”
“You sure—”
“Mom, go. It’s your honeymoon.” He throws his hands in the air like I am frustrating him.
“We love you, Brand,” Garrett tells him.
“Love you both, too.” He looks at the door and holds up his finger. With pure determination in his eyes, he then starts walking toward the dance floor. As he walks by a chair, he grabs it and drags it behind him.
“Oh, fuck.” Garrett laughs.
“What? What is he...?” I stop when I see him step up onto the chair and tap Bell Steel on the shoulder. When she turns around and looks up, he grabs her face and plants one right on her lips. Then he says something, and I have no clue what it is, but her face drops.
He steps down from the chair, throws two fingers in the air, and walks right past everyone, chin up high, and toward the door.
I look at Gail, who is looking at me. She starts to laugh, and I shake my head, knowing it will annoy him in the state he’s in. She follows my son out the door.
I look at Garrett, and we both start laughing. When Carly walks over, we stop, but then she laughs, and now I can’t help it. I laugh so hard tears are rolling down my face.
“What did he say?” I ask, trying to stop laughing.
“She won’t tell me,” Carly say through her laugh. “But I hope Kiki didn’t see it. All she talks about is Brandon Falcon and how much she loves him.”
“What the hell was that?” Gage asks from behind us, and I look back to see he’s laughing, too.
“Brandon has his first crush,” Garrett tells him.
“It’s a good damn thing he’s five, or Jase might wanna kick his little ass.”
“Did she tell him what he said?” Carly asks.
“Yeah, she sure did,” Gage tells her.
“Spill it,” Carly says, still laughing.
“Something about planting a seed deeper inside than just a necklace?”
“Oh, fuck.” Garrett chuckles.
“What the fuck kind of seed is he talking about?” Jase asks as he walks up, holding their son Maximus.
“Friendship seed.” Garrett snorts. “He wanted to propose, but I told him they had a lot of growing to do and he should plant the friendship seed and let that grow.”
“Max,” Jase says, looking at his son. “You need to grow up fast. You got two sisters who need you.”
“Sorry, man, I thought I was giving sound advice.” Garrett shrugs. “Had nothing to do with kissing the girl.”
“I saw Kiki plant one on him earlier.” Jase rolls his eyes. “She acts like her mother.”
“Oh, please,” Carly says, taking her son from Jase. “Come on, Maximus Hillary Steel; your mom is gonna breastfeed you.” She looks at Jase. “Until you’re two.”
“Carly, that shit’s not funny. We agreed to six months,” he says, following her.
“You two take off.” Gage smiles. “I’ll keep Romeo in check.”
“You gonna be okay dealing with Mom?” Garrett asks.
He shrugs. “She’s got her reasons. Everything worked out the way it should.”
I smile and look down, happy that he’s willing to try with her.
When I look back up, he shakes his head at me. “I hope to hell you two have a good wedding night.”
“We will,” Garrett says, smiling at me, obviously not catching the fact that he was making fun of my first wedding night.
He nods to the door. “Get out of here.”
“Thank you,” I mouth to him, and he nods to Phoenix and smiles.
“Life is good.”
***
Three hours later, I wake to Garrett opening the door.
I look up at him, and then out the car window.
“Got room 25,” he says, looking at me.
“I love it.” I step out of the truck. “I love it.”
“So fucking glad you do, Mrs. Garrett Falcon.”
I wrap my arms around my husband’s neck. “Take me to bed.”
“That’s the plan.”
This book is dedicated to all the people whose hearts are as big as the sky and who swallow back ones needs, and desires to keep peace, and make others around you happy.
Read and absorb lovely’s.
The Playlist
“Hallelujah” by Gyth Rigdon
“It’s A Great Day To Be Alive” by Travis Tritt
“See You Around” by Cole Taylor
“That One Is My Dad” by Keni Thomas
“Body Language” by Gyth Rigdon
“Bless the Broken Road” by by Rascal Flatts
“Cop Car” by Sam Hunt
“Circles” by Jana Kramer
“You Don’t Know Her Like I Do” by Brantley Gilbert
“Blue Ain’t Your Color” by Keith Urban
“Flatliner” by Cole Swindell (Feat. Dierks Bentley)
“Gonna Wanna Tonight” by Chase Rice
“Middle of a Memory” by Cole Swindle
“Porch Swing Angel” by Muscadine Bloodline
“Lights Down Low” by Max (Feat. Gnash)
“Craving You” by Eli Young
“Save a Horse Ride a Cowboy” by Big and Rick
“Why Can’t I” by Liz Phair
“You Won’t Ever Be Lonely” Andy Giggs
Listen on Spotify
To The Reader
Each choice that we make steers us in a different direction on life’s broken, but beautiful road. A road with no map or directions.
Some of us make choices that are not easy, but and are made in ord
er to make it easier for those we love.
I have regretted choices I have made in the name of love, but never regretted any made for those who deserve my love and who truly love me the same. That is love, real love. It goes both ways.
It is never going to be easy all the time. We have to expect that, because life is a lesson full or trials, tribulations, self-reflections and evaluations.
True love is worth stepping outside of your comfort zone, allowing yourself to be vulnerable and open to the possibilities you may have once believed only were dreamt up for fairytales and happy ever after’s.
At a new stage in life, I am again faced with making choices for those I love, and still being open to its possibilities.
The hardest thing for me to embrace, is that sometimes, as hard as it is, we need to choose ourselves.
Be brave, be bold, be beautiful, because you are.
XOXOXO MJ
*This book does contain triggers in the form of flashbacks in dealing with non-descriptive, physical and sexual abuse*
Prologue
Grayson
“Desserts are for after dinner,” Mommy tells me as she smiles and takes away the box of chocolates her friend Mags sent from the United States of America.
“But, Mommy...” I whine, sticking out my lower lip and pouting slightly. This usually works, as long as Daddy doesn’t know. He doesn’t like us to eat chocolate. He says it’ll make us fat.
“But, Grayson...” She smiles, mussing up my hair then placing a kiss on my nose. “After dinner.”
Then she’s gone, but the chocolates, they are sitting on top of the refrigerator. I know I’m going to get in some trouble, but I just can’t help myself.
Pulling out the bottom drawer, I step onto it. Then I pull myself onto the counter, reaching up to grab the box off the refrigerator. Once I have the box, I sit on my bottom on the counter then slide off, shoving the box under my shirt as I run down the hall, up the stairs, and into the bedroom I share with Garrett. We have our own rooms, but now I stay in his.
A few months ago, when I heard him crying at night, it scared me, so I went in and saw he was sleeping under his bed. I laid next to his bed and held his hand. He didn’t cry anymore, and he didn’t tell me to leave, so now I stay in there every night.
Today I heard him cry and it’s not even dark. Chocolate will make him happy, I think as I walk in.
“What?” he asks, wiping his nose, his eyes angry.
“I got chocolate.” I pull the box out from under my shirt and show him.
“Just go, Gray,” he says, burying his face in his knees. “Chocolate doesn’t fix everything.”
“But—”
“Just go!”
I run down the stairs, out the door, and toward the big barn, the one with all the equipment. I want to cry, too. I want to because my brother, my best friend, he’s mad at me and I didn’t even do anything wrong.
I slide under one of the trucks and open the box. I don’t care if I get in trouble. I just don’t care. I eat a piece of the yummy chocolate, and then another and another. They are delicious.
“Hey!” I hear Gage, my big brother, and cringe. I’m going to be in trouble.
I peek out and see him throw a stone. I watch it fly through the air as if it’s in slow motion. Then I cover my mouth when I see it getting closer and closer to Mr. A. Then it hits him in the side of the head and he falls. He falls a long way before he lands on the ground.
I look at Gage, who has a weird smile on his face. A mean one. One I have never seen before.
He walks over to where Mr. A. lies, kicks some dirt on his face, and then spits on the back of his head. Then he squats down, his fists balled at his sides, as he sneers, “Told you not to come back. Should’ve listened.”
He stands up and walks away, kicking dirt behind him as he does.
I see blood. Lots and lots of blood. It’s coming from Mr. A’s head, his mouth. It’s getting closer and closer to me.
Terrified, I scurry out from under the opposite side of the truck and run toward the trees.
Mandee
Sitting next to Mom’s bed, I held her hand. They said it wouldn’t be long now. I didn’t believe them.
Since I found out about her cancer in ninth grade, I had heard that so many times. Too many times. And every time, she made it. I attributed it to many prayers, and the promise the trees made me one night.
Yes, the trees.
“Be strong, Mandee. She needs our strength.” Dad’s eyes would never shed the tears I knew were there, not ever. And neither would mine. Well, not in front of them, anyway.
When I was sixteen, it had been bad, really bad. I had gone to the store to get some things Dad had asked me to get, knowing I was being sent away because Mom couldn’t hide the pain any longer and neither of them had wanted me to see her cry.
On my way, while driving, I had heard a song on the radio I had heard a million times. “If I Die Young” by The Band Perry. I cried so hard I couldn’t see. I cried so hard I couldn’t breathe. I cried so hard I swore my heart would break.
I had to pull over to the side of the road by the lake, and then I ran into the woods so that no one could see me break down, so no one could see me being weak. After all, everyone would tell me how strong I was all the time.
I wanted to be. I wanted to be as strong as they thought. Hell, I had been.
Then, when I was quiet, I heard the song “Hallelujah.” I didn’t know the song, but it was beautiful. And it seemed to calm me...the chorus, the voice.
Later, when I googled the words, I realized it had been the voice that was calming; the lyrics, hauntingly beautiful.
A year later, when she was gone, I returned to that spot for the hundredth time. I heard the most beautiful sound, one I had yearned to hear every time I had returned. I had told myself it wasn’t real. It was a figment of my imagination, words whispered in the woods.
I was wrong. This time, the song was much more uplifting.
I walked through the woods, trying to find it, all the while listening to whoever was singing “It’s a Great Day to be Alive” by Travis Tritt.
When I came upon him, his back was to me, black hair curled up under a backward Yankees hat, the material of his gray Henley stretched over his back. He had the sleeves pulled up to his elbows, his arms covered in tattoos, the muscles beneath the ink bulging as he played the guitar in his hand. He was sitting on a fallen tree with a fire going in front of him. My heart skipped a beat, several beats.
As awful as that day was, I will always remember the first time Mom, my angel, sent me to the woods to listen to this man whisper a promise that things would be okay.
Chapter One
The Road Leading Back
Grayson
Sitting at Carlin’s Cocktails, a little bar off the highway leading to Lake Hopatcong, I look out over the dance floor. There’s a band playing tonight. Little four-piece country band doing an okay job with some popular covers. They have the place packed, the floor full. I suppose that’s what they’re here for. They’re okay, but that’s not why I’m here.
Not hating. Hell, I made some bank doing that shit while traveling. No four-piece. Two-piece, just me and Glory, my guitar. Didn’t do it for the money. I did it for the fine, little pieces of ass it would drop at my feet. Ass with no strings. Best kind of ass out there. Why? Because love, marriage, forever, it’s a bunch of fucking horse shit.
I’m here because I need a break from my family. Sounds shitty, but it’s the truth. From as far back as I can remember, things have been fucking crazy. Never knew what was going to happen next. It was like living in a war zone.
Now...Now the air has cleared a bit. Found out some things that bring clarity. Plus, my brother Garrett popped the question to his girl tonight. I was asked to help him out by singing to her, so I did.
When we were younger, Garrett had horrible nightmares. He even slept under his bed for a couple years. Recently, I found out why. He was fucking
abused by an old man who worked for our family. My brother Gage threw a rock and killed the man right in front of me. I never knew why until now, but that’s when my fucking nightmares began.
For the longest time, after I witnessed that, I was intimidated as fuck by Gage. Regardless, he was still my brother, and in order to function, I had to look at the man as a whole. Actions speak louder than words, and one fuck up, one thrown stone, doesn’t define a man. Not when every other thing he did in life was good. Not to mention he was the man of the family. Now knowing that horrible act was done for family, now I fucking look up to him even more.
Gage and Garrett, they worked out their baby momma drama and are at peace. Hell, they are all fucking happy. And here I am, waiting for the mother of all bombs to drop.
Oh, what a tangled web this family has weaved.
I take off my hat and set it on my knee before running my fingers through my hair then finish my beer. I set my empty glass on the bar and wait for a refill while I look around to find something to slip into tonight.
My eyes fix on the waif-sized blonde who is dancing with a total fucking tool. Flat brimmed hat, skinny jeans, a red shirt, and matching red sneakers. I laugh, wondering if the fucker looked in a mirror before leaving the house. Then I sigh because, looking around, I’m thinking women are no longer raising men. It’s all good. I know damn well Little Red Riding Bitch over there is thinking him and his tricked-out duds are a fucking turn on. I know better. Women want a man between their legs, and not some bitch whose focus is on looking like he just walked out of a magazine, emasculating men as a whole.
My species is in danger of extinction, which makes me like a fucking tiger. And like a tiger, I’m on the prowl tonight. Unlike the tiger, my prey doesn’t run, which makes the chase lame, but it all ends the same—her bent over.
The only fight I get these days is when the woman under me decides she wants to impress me by thinking she can fuck me. That ain’t happening.
When I’m fucking, it’s with three purposes: to get her off, leave a mark, and to come.
Men, real men, are hunters, gatherers, and providers. Women aren’t looking for that today, and I’m not about to be tied down by one who thinks she’s going to own my balls.
