by Bijou Hunter
I notice how the more she shares with me, the warmer she acts around Bubba. Getting honest about her feelings helps Mom accept this new reality. I think Bubba notices too. When she pats him on the head one day after dinner, he gives me that little boy pleased with himself grin. I swear Bubba’s irresistible at times. If we ever have a real argument, I doubt I’ll have a shot in hell of winning once he flashes one of his smiles at me.
During the two weeks, Dad goofs around with Bailey while Bubba works with Butch on the atrium. Mom and I just talk and talk.
Slowly, my panic attacks lessen in both frequency and intensity, but going topless without agitation takes a lot longer. Bubba and I have sex every day, sometimes more than once, but I can’t do it with my top off. Even if his hands go exploring, I need to remain covered up.
“Fucking is good,” Bubba grunts whenever I apologize for needing to keep my top on.
His caveman horniness truly helps me. I feel ugly whenever I think of my face. The swelling diminishes, and the bruising fades, but I don’t look like me. Bubba hinting for sex whenever we’re alone for five seconds certainly feeds my ego.
Soon, my parents must leave, but they promise to return the following weekend.
Though sad, I focus on meditation and yoga to keep me calm. I also accept that Bubba does not get the latter. He treats yoga as a mating call and swoops in whenever I begin stretching. However, he keeps it in his pants the day I decide to do yoga in my bra.
“I’m training myself to be a nudist again,” I say, nervous already.
“Jack loves to run around naked.”
“I know.”
“Don’t look at him naked,” he mutters, frowning possessively at me. “I don’t want to cut off my cousin’s dick. How awkward would family dinners be after that?”
I pat his cheek. “Your cousin is barely a man to me. I mean, I know technically he probably has those parts, but I only see a blob with hair.”
“What do you see when you look at me?” he asks, wiggling his brows.
“Save the horndog routine for after my yoga.”
“I’ll be respectful.”
“No jacking off while I exercise,” I say, flashing my sternest look.
“What if I do it in the bathroom?”
“Well, what’s the fun of you jacking off if I can’t watch?”
Bubba leans down and kisses me gently. “I’m going to fuck you so good later.”
Nudging him away from me, I walk to the bedroom where I take off my shirt.
“I’m in my house with my man,” I say to the scared chick in the mirror. “I am not in the woods with a psycho. I can do this.”
Still, I cover my chest with my balled-up shirt. Bubba relaxes on the couch, waiting for the show. Next to him sits Freki. I hear the girls chattering in their new atrium. I am safe here. No one will hurt or judge me. I’ve got this.
“I’m in my bra!” I announce for really no reason. “This is my bra!”
I toss my shirt on the chair and force down my arms. Bubba glances at the dog for support and then shrugs.
“Can I applaud?” he asks.
“Knock yourself out, hunky puppy.”
Bubba pants for me and continues making doggy whining noises while I bend into a Downward-Facing Pose. Freki decides to bark since he thinks Bubba is hogging all his moves. I ignore them both and stretch.
“I am in my home with my man,” I say when I start flashing back to the woods. “I am safe.”
“And hot, Num-Num. Don’t forget that.”
Bent forward, I twist enough to look back at a smiling Bubba. If I designed my dream man back in Hickory Creek, I never would have imagined anyone half as amazing as the now shirtless hunk admiring my butt. Bubba winks at Freki as if they’re in on a joke, and I realize yoga isn’t happening.
Like most days, I’ll get my work out with a naked Bubba.
THE RUNAWAY
Soso doesn’t just steal my heart. She takes control of my brain too. I hear her even when she’s not around. Like when I’m mowing our front lawn one day and glance at the park across the street. Soso’s voice pops in my head to suggest we change the name.
“Kirk Johansson Memorial Park,” I tell Mom. “We can petition the city council and donate funds to have the signs changed.”
“The plan is to name half of the town after our family, huh?” she grumbles as if she doesn’t love the idea.
“The Hallstead name is on half of Hickory Creek. Do you think their residents ever forget who runs shit?”
Mom lunges for me in the way she’s prone to do lately. “You’re such a good boy. Such a smart, sweet boy.”
“Thanks, Mom,” I mumble while she finger-combs my hair.
Soon, Sissy’s pregnancy announcement allows my mother to focus her crazy clinginess on someone else. Soso falls into the background of family functions, edgy around people. The swelling around her nose is mostly gone, but her cast will be on for another few weeks.
Despite being still on the mend, Soso doesn’t hide from the world. She decides to take charge of the motel, believing the young women will respond better to her than any of the Reapers. Soso sets them up with clinic visits and educational videos. After a few visits, she decides to upgrade their living quarters. Plus, she adds surveillance in the rooms that’ll allow the women to turn on the cameras whenever they have customers.
“For their protection,” she explains when Jack wants to know about costs. “Besides, we never know when one of their clients could be someone prime for blackmail.”
Jack likes that last part and immediately signs on to do the upgrades. Layla visits Conroe to help find cost-efficient ways to make the motel more livable and stylish. Though Soso gets along with the women in my family, she still relies heavily on her mom and cousin.
My contribution to improving the Rossiya Motel is to hire two local guys to take turns playing security there. Neither of the men is particularly badass, but they look scary. Both are vets and ex-cons. Both know how to keep their mouths shut. Both quickly become dependent on their new income to support their families—immediately buying newer cars and upgrading their homes. Soso likes to show up unannounced to make sure the men are actually around, keeping watch, and not making moves on the women.
“No one fucks for free,” she insists. “Just like no one drinks for free at the pub. Everyone carries their weight and pays their due or the club should take it personally.”
Man, Soso’s hot when she embraces her inner bitch.
Layla does more than help with design ideas. She also bird-sits for us while Soso and I join my family on our yearly RVing road trip. This year is special for many reasons. All three of Cooper’s daughters bring along their new babies. Plus, Sissy, Haydee, and Hart have never traveled before. And, of course, Soso and I enjoy our my first RVing experience together.
It’s a tight fit in the Bailey’s Badass Bus—aka. my parents’ RV. Technically, we’re on our second “Bus” after Buzz got Mom and Pop a good deal on a newer, larger Class A motorhome last year.
“It won’t fit all of us soon,” Pop says during a pit stop in South Carolina.
I follow his gaze to where Butch rubs Sissy’s still flat belly. Nearby, Soso walks around a grassy area with Haydee, Hart, and Freki. Frenchie lounges nearby, watching the smaller dog. They still have their tiffs. Like with the rest of us, they’re learning to bond as a family.
“I know a guy that’ll help us find a second one,” I say, and Pop grins.
“Do you think you’ll have babies soon?”
My gaze returns to Soso, who squats next to Freki and smiles when the kids mimic her.
“No idea. She’s given up so much to be with me. If she wants one tomorrow, I’ll say yes. If she doesn’t want them ever, I’ll say yes to that too. Soso makes everything feel like the right answer.”
Pop gives me a look somewhere between pride and embarrassment. I mean, yeah, I’m whipped, but who’s he to judge? Has he ever seen him and Mom together?
>
I don’t ask Soso about babies on the trip. We have time to talk privately once we’re back in Conroe. For those two weeks, we focus on sightseeing and family time.
Occasionally, Mom and Soso butt heads. This is new territory for the former. After all, Panni and Sissy are pushovers who crave a mother figure. Soso has no problem disagreeing with Mom or taking charge.
“Too slow, lady,” she says one day when everyone meanders in a multi-restaurant parking lot without a clue where to eat. Mom doesn’t choose a place quickly enough, leaving my woman to step up.
“Your father might be the best twin, but you are not his best child.” Mom mutters at Soso who nods.
“Keanu really is better.”
The women agree on that much. Oh, and that I’m the best of the three boys—as long as Butch and Buzz aren’t close enough to overhear. Mom has to keep things fair.
As much fun as the trip is, I’m relieved when we return to Conroe. I miss my house and the girls and even the town itself.
Soso and I go riding on our first day back. I love the feel of her arm wrapped around me as we speed along the long rural roads. At every stop sign and light, I glance back to find Soso smiling. She feels what I do that day.
Conroe is where our heart belongs and where our future begins.
OH, BY THE WAY, FROM THE BOHEMIAN
My near-death experience lights a fire under my beloved brother’s butt. Lottie returns to the US to find a man obsessed with knowing their future.
Days after she settles back into her life in White Horse, Keanu throws a party at The Glenn to celebrate. He hopes to propose too. His uncertainty about her answer keeps him on edge. Despite not wanting to visit Hickory Creek and possibly run into people—namely Griff’s mom who was told he died doing club business—I know my brother needs me to attend his party.
The restaurant is closed for the private event. The entire Hayes family shows up, including the babies. Cap hangs close to Keanu, giving him pep talks about the big moment. Lottie must realize something’s up because she goes to the ladies’ room and remains there.
Inside, I find her sitting on the counter and staring at her hands. Her face is hidden by her green shag cut. When I enter, she glances at me and then sighs.
“Everyone probably thinks I’m an ungrateful twat,” she mutters.
Leaning against the counter, I nudge her with my knee. “Don’t worry about everyone. Just tell me what’s happening with you?”
“I got a lot of mixed messages in Bandung,” she blurts out, clearly desperate to tell someone. “My grandmother said I should marry Keanu. My other grandmother said I shouldn’t marry him. My mom worries people here think I’m a gold digger. My father still doesn’t know why I want to live in the US. They made me think I shouldn’t even return.”
“What do you want?”
“I’m not sure. I mean, I feel like no matter what I do that I’m letting someone down. Whatever choice I make will be a mistake, so I can’t choose at all.”
“Lottie, clear your head,” I say, and she gives me a half-smile. Worrying I’ll go full hippie on her, she probably wants me to back off. However, with my face still a little swollen, making me cry isn’t an option, so she chooses to play along.
“Okay,” she says and takes a deep breath.
“Now, imagine you and Keanu break up. You and he remain friends. No one is mad.”
Lottie’s gaze turns uneasy, but she nods.
“Now imagine you find a man from Indonesia here or maybe you return to Bandung. Imagine you are dating this new man. He comes from your culture, and your grandmothers are both happy. He’s nice and handsome and appreciates you. Do you feel hope when you imagine that man? If so, then I don’t think other people are confusing you. I think you know what you want, but you’re scared to tell Keanu goodbye.”
Lottie says nothing. Her gaze flashes to the door before returning to me. It’ll break my heart if Lottie ends things with Keanu. My brother loves her, and she’s my friend. They both deserve to be happy, though. If Keanu isn’t the one for her, they’re just wasting time together.
“It’s okay to say you want out, Lottie.”
Looking like a cornered animal, she wears the same expression she did when a lady at the grocery store yelled at her to go back to Mexico. In her element, Lottie is a super calm hip chick. But put her on the spot, and she freezes up. Suffering from the same habit, I don’t want to be the reason she feels attacked.
“My brother loves you. He wants a life with you. But what you need matters too,” I say and hold her hand. “You've been dating for a while now, and you know everything there is to know about Keanu. If you think another man would be better for you now, then you’ll feel the same way next year or in ten years. Why waste more time on someone that doesn’t give you what you need?”
Lottie stares at me with terrified hazel eyes and blurts out, “Keanu is everything.”
“Because you think that’s what I want to hear or because that’s what you really feel? You have a right to be happy, Lottie, even if it upsets other people. So, what do you want?”
“I want to be with Keanu,” she says, tears falling down her cheeks.
I hand her a paper towel. “Then that’s it. Just be with him. Don’t worry about what your family thinks. If you’re happy, they’ll be happy. If they aren’t happy about you being happy, well, then, no offense, but fuck ‘em. Life’s too short, Lottie. There’s no shame in wanting to enjoy yourself rather than being miserable to fit the needs of other people.”
Lottie can’t change how she was raised, and her mind will always wonder if she’s doing right by her family.
But the idea of being with someone besides Keanu makes her realize no other man will do.
I felt the same way when I thought about Bubba returning to Conroe without me. Sure, we could do the long-distance thing and take things slowly. But when I imagined losing him, I knew the risk wasn’t worth it. Leaving my hometown was nowhere as painful as life without Bubba.
Lottie cleans up in the restroom before we return to the dining area where she takes my brother’s hand and asks, “Will you be my husband?”
Keanu answers by marrying her twice—once in White Horse that August after I return from the Johansson family road trip and again in October in Bandung, Indonesia.
Bubba travels with my family and the entire Hayes clan in a private jet Angus insists on renting.
“I want to survive twenty fucking hours of flight time with all my grand-spawn,” he growls when Dad taunts him for being a rich prick.
Angus fires back by calling my father a RUB—aka a rich upscale biker—which is a term he learned from Cap. The men’s bickering is the only negative part of the entire trip.
Otherwise, Lottie is a vision in her pale pink dress, and Keanu is dapper as always in his sleek black suit. I cry a lot more than I should, but I’m overjoyed for my brother.
While Keanu doesn’t cry at my wedding, I have no doubt he wants to. Remaining dry-eyed is a struggle he fights all day. One that Mom easily crumbles under, and Dad has varying success at.
Before the day in the woods, Bubba and I planned to have a sizable wedding in Hickory Creek. We wanted to invite all of his family and friends along with mine. The only holdup was waiting for Griff to find a woman to distract him from his obsession with me.
Then he died, and I felt too insecure about a crowd of people staring at me. Plus, I still didn’t trust all of the people in the Brotherhood or their families. Do they view Griff as a victim pushed over the edge by my selfishness? Would just questioning their loyalties ruin my wedding? Not inviting them to a big wedding wasn’t an option unless I hoped to create a ton of grudges. Planning a ceremony seemed like too much stress for too little payoff.
I’m ready to put aside getting married. After all, life with Bubba is going so well. I’m finding my place in Conroe. He’s taking charge of the club and building respect with the people who matter to him. My family visits often. His family
accepts me. Why do we need a ceremony or a piece of paper?
“It’s not the legal part,” Bubba explains one night while Ula climbs in my hair and Bjork flirts with my man. “I don’t care if we have a piece of fucking paper. I just want something, I don’t know, ceremonial to prove you’re not any woman to me. Does that make sense?”
Whether it makes sense or not, I can’t tell him no. Bubba loves me so much, and I need him to be happy.
Getting married at the bird sanctuary is his idea. We keep everything intimate, casual, and stress-free. I love being surrounded by the birds, including Odin, who rides around on my shoulder most of the evening.
Bubba promises he isn’t jealous of my first love, but those two possessive guys eyeball each other all damn night. Their rivalry never stops being funny to me either. Bubba eventually even takes off his shirt just to flaunt what his parents gave him. Grinch then calls him a whore, and I nearly pee myself laughing. The night is both the funniest and most romantic wedding I could have imagined.
We marry four months to the day after we meet. For some, our relationship moved too fast.
But for Bubba and me, waiting was never an option.
A FINAL WORD FROM THE BOHEMIAN
Motherhood doesn’t interest me right away. Not when I babysit Byron or after Sissy gives birth to a son named Hopper. I love watching Scarlet and Phoebe’s kids, and I frequently hang out with Hart and Haydee. But I just don’t feel the urge to have a kid of my own.
Bubba doesn’t seem in a hurry either. Bailey frequently hints for more grandbabies. She’s addicted to all the attention and cuddles being a nana affords her.
“It’s up to Soso,” Bubba says whenever anyone asks.
To some people, it might seem as if he’s passing the buck or doesn’t care. But he knows what Griff wanted to do. Rushing into “breeding” panics me, and that panics Bubba.
“We’ll know when we know,” I reply when everyone invariably turns to me.
Life is great that first year. I settle into my oddball group of friends. Sissy is the gentle ditz. Lily is the organized badass. Panni is the shy hugger. Phoebe is the easygoing artist who never wants to plan shit. Scarlet is the hothead farmer who also never wants to plan shit. Bailey expects everyone to do what she says. Sawyer wants everyone to ignore Bailey. I’m not entirely certain of my role, though.
