Bourbon Blues (Serrated Brotherhood MC Book 1)

by Bijou Hunter

  By the time Andrea tells me she needs to run home to get something, which means she’s meeting her boyfriend somewhere to continue their argument, I’m in full panic mode about seeing Camden later.

  I end up thinking about the party when I enjoyed my first real conversation with him. Our circle of friends connected occasionally, and we’d shared a few passing hellos over the years. Ruby dated his cousin all through high school, so I knew the Rutgers without truly knowing them. That night at the party, I got to experience Camden very up close and personal.

  Not wanting to attend Hannah’s birthday bash alone, Harmony brought me along. She’d lost most of her friends when she had a kid, and they continued partying. Despite being the least outgoing person I know, I quickly transformed into a happy chick at the party. The music alone - an eclectic mix of 1980 and 1990’s alternative and pop music - put in me a great mood.

  Suffering through one of her cleansing diets back then, Harmony couldn’t drink alcohol.

  “You should do a shot,” she suggested, promising she’d keep an eye on me.

  So I drank a shot of whiskey that tasted the same as what I assume old piss tastes. The screwdrivers were much better, and I downed two of them before Camden and Dayton arrived.

  They were exceptional in a room full of average. I remember thinking they looked like Vikings ready to pillage our party. This image made me giggle. By the time I’d stopped laughing to myself, Camden was at my side.

  The party was too loud and crowded to hear most of what the sexy beast said. The only thing that mattered was how his warm, brown eyes focused on only me. I existed in a way I never did before or after that night.

  The booze made me confident. When he kissed me by the fridge in the crowded kitchen, I hadn’t pulled away. Instead, I threw myself at him, wanting more. I’d never been touched with such controlling care before. In high school, a few boys kissed me, but they were sloppy and wore the bored expressions of guys willing to kiss anyone. Camden wasn’t drunk or bored. He could have anyone at the party, but he was kissing me, and he was kissing me really fucking well.

  Camden held me against him and sucked at my tongue as if in no hurry. I was comfortably against him and oblivious to the people around us. Camden’s touch offered both heat and safety.

  Wanting to be alone, we moved to a bathroom. Camden locked the door, and I stared at him like a dog in heat. If I had a tail, the damn thing would have been going a mile a minute.

  A smiling Camden effortlessly lifted me up onto the counter where his fingers explored the flesh on my back. When his hand cupped my breast, I leaned into his touch. We existed outside of my typical worries. Right then, right there, I was a goddess, and he was my Viking.

  Somehow, the perfection went wrong. My panties were drenched, and Camden’s skin was scorching under my fingertips. His shirt was off while my bra was pushed up. We were grooving until I panicked.

  Outside of the bathroom, two girls screamed declarations of eternal friendship to each other. Their squeals startled my brain awake enough to worry about me naked in front of a damn mirror in a stranger's bathroom with a guy I lusted over but hadn’t shared a real conversation with. Was this really how I wanted to lose my virginity?

  More questions shocked me alert.

  Did he have condoms? Was my untested birth control any good? What if I was bad at sex? What if I farted or made weird noises or looked stupid?

  I struggled with many possibilities about what could go wrong. Then Camden slid one of his big hands between my thighs where I was hot and wet. Imagining how huge his dick likely was, I instantly feared I’d bleed to death from having sex.

  A calamity of stupid is the only way to describe those next five minutes.

  When I jerked away, the top of my head smacked into his chin. As he stepped back startled, I jumped off the counter with my usual lack of finesse. My hip nailed his erection straining against his tight jeans. Camden’s pained grunt freaked me out even more.

  I didn’t know what to do. He frowned at me like I was crazy, and my mouth wouldn’t work. Had all of the kissing broken my tongue? Frozen in place, we stared at one another until Camden opened his mouth to speak, and I took off running. I don’t even remember opening the door. I might have simply run straight through it like a cartoon character.

  Finding Harmony dancing wildly in a crowd of people, I assumed she’d gotten drunk despite being the designated brain for the night. I barreled into her, still unable to speak. What was wrong with my frigging mouth?

  My wasted-looking sister was actually bone dry sober. Seeing me looking a mess, she never needed me to explain. She pulled me out of the house, only stopping at our car long enough to fix my bra and open the door for me.

  We drove home with Harmony singing quietly with the radio. Nothing fazed her. She smiled even when angry. Meanwhile, I emotionally ran the gambit between drunken shaking and crying like a fool for embarrassing myself more than anyone had ever embarrassed themselves in the history the entire frigging world.

  “Did he hurt you?” she asked when we arrived at the trailer park.

  Shaking my head, I regained the ability to form words. “I panicked.”

  “Who wouldn’t? I’m sure it’s a big dick,” Harmony said and then climbed out of the car and helped my sloppy drunk ass into the trailer.

  The next day, I woke up hoping everyone would forget all about my ridiculous behavior. Camden might call me an idiot and people would laugh when they heard what happened. No biggie. Life would move on.

  When Camden called my number, I refused to answer. His messages first asked and then demanded I call him, but I never did. How could I explain my freak out? I wasn’t a teenager, and a grown woman should know how to keep her dignity intact in those situations.

  After Camden had labeled me a cock tease, guys pretended to be cold around me because I was so frigid. Girls joked they never had to worry about me stealing their men since I was all talk and no action.

  Eventually, people lost interest and focused their teasing on someone else, but I’d already decided to lose weight and get my life organized. I planned to be healthy and smart. Screw Camden Rutgers for destroying my confidence. If our roles were reversed, I’d have pitied him for freaking out. The Rutgers play by a different set of rules, though.

  Now Camden is back, claiming everything is cool, and we could pick up at the kissing part. My new insecurities and growling stomach say differently. There’s no changing how I panicked and how he lashed out. Even if both forgive and claim to forget, I still plan to hold a grudge.

  Five - Camden

  My fist barely makes contact with the guy’s face before his nose explodes blood and teeth burst from his mouth. I step back and survey the damage. Behind me, a rested Dayton laughs like a hyena, and my father mutters something about my lack of control.

  “Shit, boy, we don’t want him dead,” Mojo says, standing next to me.

  “It’s not my fault his face is smaller than my fist. I barely touched the guy.”

  Mojo throws back his head and laughs. Violence makes him happy. I don’t love it, but my size and power allow me to keep our family, club, and town safe. I do what I need to do, but sometimes things don’t turn out how I plan.

  My dad looks good for a middle aged man with a rough life. His hair turned gray when I was a teenager but remains thick while his brown eyes still sparkle when enjoying a solid beat down on a local thug.

  “Good thing he’s a pimp and not a ho or you’d have killed his business,” Mojo says, still grinning.

  I kneel down in front of the sobbing man. “You need to stop slapping your girls in public places in broad daylight. This is a family fucking town, and your shit ain’t acceptable. Do we understand each other?”

  The crying hustler nods and tries to stand but pissing his pants seems to have turned his legs to mush. I suspect he’ll crawl to safety after we leave.

  “I wonder if his girls will respect him now,” Dayton asks as we stand outside th
e pimp’s apartment complex.

  “Probably not. Would you?” I mutter.

  “No, but I’ve never been a whore paying sixty percent to a guy for protection.”

  “I always thought we should go into the prostitution racket,” Mojo declares. “It's easy money to be made, and we’d do better protecting the whores than the fuckwit inside.”

  Dayton and I share a smile. Mojo refuses to admit why we never added prostitution to the club’s long list of criminal activities. We happen to know he made a promise to Grandma Rutgers years ago, and he couldn’t break it without risking the curse she put on him if he dared go back on his word. Our grandmother was dead going on ten years, but Mojo still feared her wrath.

  Women were tricky creatures and even sweet girls like Daisy could hold grudges. I didn’t mention my evening plans to my father. He’d think I’m an idiot. Rutgers men never chase women. They chase us.

  Daisy is the exception. I fucked up by misreading her behavior that night, and a man needs to own his mistakes.

  As soon as I split from Dayton and Mojo, I return my Harley to my condo. I shower, change my clothes, and decide to pick up Daisy in my black Escalade. After a frustrating stop at the flower shop, I arrive at the laundromat where Daisy finishes with work.

  Her long brown hair is now shiny and straight in stark contrast from when I found her waiting for the bus. No doubt she’s cleaned herself up in preparation for our dinner.

  “Good day at Sun and Suds?” I ask when she appears outside.

  “Yes, it was wonderful. Did you still want to talk or can you just drive me home?”

  I hand her the flowers, and Daisy looks at them confused. “They aren’t daisies,” I announce.

  “I like daisies.”

  “Oh, well, I think there might be a few daisies in the mixed bouquet. The chick at the store said all of them had daisies in them. Did you want roses?”

  “I'm not into flowers.”

  “Want me to throw them away?” I ask, reaching for the flowers.

  Daisy turns away, so I can’t take them. “Nope.”

  “Let’s go to the Boogie Bowl for dinner.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I want ribs.”

  “Is there anything healthy there?”

  “I don’t know, but if what you want isn’t on the menu, I’ll ask them to make it special.”

  Daisy studies me with her hazel eyes, and I feel like a damn king under her gaze.

  “You changed your clothes. Should I go home and change mine?”

  I hear the challenge behind her question. If I take her home, I’ll need to deal with the Lush Gardens family. She’ll weasel out of dinner, and I’ll end up playing twenty questions with Ruby or Harmony.

  “You look gorgeous.”

  “You did too. Why’d you change?” she asks, stepping back.

  “I smelled from the heat, so I took a long shower.”

  Daisy’s eyes switch from wariness to curiosity. I see her imagining me in the shower. Smiling, she shrugs.

  “Thank you, I guess.”

  “You’re welcome. Let’s head out.”

  I open the door for Daisy, who climbs in and rests the flowers across her lap. By the time I reach my side, she’s texting something on the phone.

  “Letting everyone know you’re safe?” I ask, starting the SUV.

  “Something like that.”

  Frowning at her, I settle back in my seat. “What happened to your job at the doctor’s office?”

  “They needed to cut staff, and I volunteered to go since everyone else has kids to support.”

  “You’re a cool chick,” I say, pulling into the afternoon traffic.

  “This job is temporary until I improve my Spanish writing skills. There are a few jobs around here that I could get if I both spoke and wrote Spanish well. Right now, I’m only proficient in speaking.”

  “I thought you spoke French.”

  “I do.”

  “Damn, girl.”

  “Stop complimenting me so much.”

  Smirking, I pat her hand. “Baby, you get as feisty as you want, but I’m not good at taking orders.”

  “It feels like you’re trying too hard.”

  “You make me nervous.”

  “Ditto.”

  “I always thought you were smoking hot, but I never saw a chance to make my move until Hannah’s party. The problem was once I made my move I kept on moving way too fast. Should have kissed you all over and then made plans for tonight.”

  Daisy’s delicate fingers caress the flower petals. She remains quiet while I deal with afternoon traffic. Hickory Creek Township isn’t a big place, but the population grew fast, and the roads never caught up. With too many cars on too many two lane roads, we take nearly a half hour to reach Boogie Bowl.

  More than once during the drive, I consider asking questions to stir up a conversation, but Daisy gives off an odd vibe, and I sense I should keep my mouth shut.

  Before I can climb out of the SUV, she places her hand on my forearm.

  “I’m sorry I freaked out and hurt you that night.”

  Her pissed chick demeanor is chipping under the pressure of our natural chemistry.

  “I know, baby,” I softly say, not wanting to rile her up again. “We managed to be at our best and worst that night. Let’s try it again without the booze and rush to get naked.”

  Daisy nods, but she’s exuding a depressed vibe now. Man, I sure have a helluva way with her.

  We walk inside where I get us the best booth in the place. Daisy isn’t the type of girl impressed by money, but I still want to show off for her. My inner caveman demands she knows I’m a good provider. I’ll get her the best booth, order any food she wants, kill potential predators, and buy her the best cave on the block. I’ll do whatever it takes to make Daisy smile at me.

  Six - Daisy

  Camden smells fantastic, and I crave to lean closer to take a whiff. His shoulder-length blond hair remains damp at the ends. I remember how his hair felt against my fingers. I ought to hate a man having better hair than me, but with Camden, I always make exceptions.

  “I have a confession,” I tell him after a long, awkward silence at the restaurant table.

  “Does it have anything to do with your sisters eating here?”

  I glance at the doorway where Ruby and Harmony wave at me. “Yeah, I might have called them in as an exit strategy. Are you angry?”

  “I’m never angry.”

  I want to roll my eyes but don’t. “Right.”

  “It’s true. Nothing ever makes me angry.”

  “Oh, okay,” I tease. “They’re here as my backup, but now I feel guilty for asking them.”

  “Why guilty?”

  “It seems insulting as if I’m saying you can’t be trusted. Plus, now they have to eat at a restaurant pricier than we’re used to.”

  “I’ll pay for their meals.”

  “That’s not necessary.”

  “I know,” he says, leaning closer. “I am a very wise and gentle man. Now scoot off and tell your sisters I’m behaving well, and they can enjoy their dinners. Everything’s on my dime.”

  “I don’t feel comfortable with that.”

  “I know, but life is a complicated ride, and you need to choose the best exits.”

  “What?”

  “Go tell them.”

  I study Camden, but my uncertainty only makes him smile wider. His lips curl upward in the most delicious way, and I’m immediately overheated. Before he unleashes more of his manly magic on me, I slide out of the booth and walk to where my sisters sit with their kids.

  “How’s it going?” Harmony asks.

  I’ve spent my life being the gawky middle sister. On one side, I have Harmony, who is a ray of sunshine on even the cloudiest day. Her golden hair comes from her Scandinavian father. Her tawny skin is from our mom’s Greek side. Somehow, she manages to look both exotic and like the girl next door.

  On the other side of the
spectrum, Ruby screams exotic beauty with her dark skin, eyes, and hair from her Jamaican-born father. She also possesses the tall, athletic build of our mother.

  I manage to fall somewhere between Ruby’s dark beauty and Harmony’s light presence. I’m the product of Sally’s attempt at a safe relationship. My father isn’t exotic, and neither am I.

  “What?” Harmony asks when I stare at her too long.

  “Nothing. I was just in my head.”

  “How’s it going?” Ruby asks when I don’t answer the original question.

  “Fine. He’s being sweet. He even said he’d pay for your dinner.”

  Ruby frowns, but Harmony’s eyes light up. “Ooh, I want a burger then.”

  “We don’t want to owe the Rutgers anything,” Ruby warns.

  “No worries. Whatever we owe them, Daisy can pay off with her charms.”

  I open my mouth, but my profane words die when I remember my niece and nephew are staring at me. Ruby’s daughter Chevelle is curious about our discussion. She knows Camden better than we do, and I catch her waving at him.

  Three-year-old Keanu only wants to color the kids’ menu. He’s mellow like his mom and completely disinterested in the drama around him.

  “Don’t be greedy with dinner,” I warn my sisters. “I don’t have enough charm for an expensive meal.”

  Harmony laughs. “Relax and enjoy the pretty man waiting for you.”

  “What she said plus be careful,” Ruby adds.

  “I’m always careful.”

  My sisters share an eye roll and then focus on choosing their meals.

  I hurry back to Camden, who smiles at my return. “Everything square?”

  “Everything is perfect.”

  Camden gives me one of his sexy grins, and I nearly melt. Shaking off my dog in heat routine, I order fish and steamed broccoli while he wants half of the menu.

  “I eat like every meal could be my last,” he tells me.

  “What else should I know about you?”

  “What else do you want to know?”

  “What’s your favorite color?”