Southern Girl Series: Bohemain Girl, Neighbor Girl & Intern Girl

by Cates, Georgia

  Our birth mother was an addict and noncompliant diabetic. She wanted heroine more than insulin. Her kidneys simply couldn’t handle all those years of abuse and unstable blood sugars. It’s a miracle she’s still alive.

  “I assume she called because she wants us to help her out somehow. I’m guessing medical bills?”

  Oh, little brother. If only it was that simple.

  “She wants a kidney.”

  Ollie’s head jerks around and he looks at me. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. I’m not giving her my kidney.”

  He makes it sound as though he won’t have one left. “You are aware that you have two?”

  “I know and I’m keeping both of them. That woman’s not getting mine or yours. End of story.”

  I wish she hadn’t contacted me. I should have changed my number after that last round of begging for money. Hearing from her always brings back terrible memories from the past. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about our childhood since she called.”

  “Don’t think about that shit, Lawry. No good can come from it.”

  “Do you remember the time I wrapped a hamburger in a napkin and brought it home from school for you?” I had traded my piece of chocolate cake for it because I knew it would be more filling and nutritious for Ollie’s little malnourished body.

  “Yeah, and I also remember her putting me in the corner and making me watch her eat it while she was coming down from a high. I was so hungry my stomach was gnawing my backbone.”

  That was only one of the many cruelties she inflicted on us.

  “I think about that stuff a lot.”

  “Good. Keep thinking about it and you won’t forget what kind of person she is. That should help you make the right decision about giving her a kidney.”

  “I’ve done my duty by telling you about Christie. I don’t want to talk about her anymore.”

  “Fine by me.”

  I knew it would be. “I want to know what’s been going on in my little brother’s life.”

  Ollie’s beaming. “I’ve met someone.”

  A new relationship will help him move on from Eden. “Oh really? Tell me about her.”

  “Her name is Katelyn. She’s an addiction and substance-abuse counselor.”

  Surely, she’s stable with a career like that. “Have you asked her out?”

  “Not yet. The timing isn’t quite right but I’m going to soon. Maybe in a couple of weeks.”

  “Don’t worry. She’ll say yes.”

  I may be a bit biased but my brother is a real catch. All my friends think so and tell me often.

  “I like this woman a lot.” I think he must, judging by the goofy grin on his face.

  “Tell me what you like about her.”

  “She isn’t afraid to challenge me. And I find it really easy to open up to her when we talk.”

  “I bet she likes to talk a lot.”

  I would expect a counselor to want to discuss everything, but I can see how that might become exhausting after a while. Sometimes I just want to be quiet and enjoy the silence.

  “She loves to talk but I don’t mind. I like the things she has to say.”

  “I’d love to meet her.” I need to see for myself that this one isn’t like Eden. Because I knew that one was a bitch the first time I met her.

  “You will if things go well.”

  I know Ollie must be anxious to see how things are going at the festival. “Are we going to the festival?”

  “Yeah, but I need to change first.”

  “I think I will too. I put this on because I thought I was going to be driving home today.” But now it looks like I’ll be sticking around for a while longer.

  I decide on colorful printed pants and my peacock-colored cropped Iron City T. It’s going to be another hot one so I opt for a topknot instead of wearing my hair down.

  “You look like a damn hippie.”

  Mission accomplished.

  I slip my brown and gold sunglasses into my hair. “Thank you. I take that as a compliment.”

  “What kind of pants are those?”

  I do a spin to model them. “They’re called harem pants.”

  “You do know what a harem is, don’t you?”

  “Shut up about my pants and let’s go.”

  We arrive at the festival and the scene is very different from the one I walked into yesterday. “We beat the crowd.”

  “It won’t look like this in a few hours.”

  “I suspect not. There was a huge crowd yesterday. The boys hated that you missed it, especially after how hard you’d worked to prepare the event.” He would have been so proud.

  “No one hated that I was missing it more than I did.”

  “Lucas landed four big accounts yesterday.”

  “He did, huh? What about Porter?”

  “I’m not sure about him.”

  “I’m a little concerned about those texts you sent about Lucas.”

  “Concerned how?”

  “You told me that you liked him. You wanted him to kiss you.”

  “I’d had a few drinks when I sent those texts. Oops. Party foul.”

  “Lucas is a good friend, but he isn’t a one-woman kind of man. He isn’t for you.”

  Yeah, you said that already. “It’s okay. You don’t have to explain. I’m not interested in Lucas.”

  “You’ll find that special person for you one day.”

  I’m so damn tired of hearing that. Where is he? I’m tired of looking.

  Lucas, Porter, and the Iron City gang are already at the booth when we arrive, but the first thing Oliver does is stop and survey the booth. “This looks great, guys. The graphics are perfect. Exactly what I had in mind.”

  It’s a beautiful Sunday morning and while the boys are busy talking shop, I take the opportunity to walk the grounds. I find an empty bench in the shade beneath a tree and decide to people watch. I love doing that because you can figure out so much by seeing what people do when they think no one is paying attention.

  A woman speaking sweetly to the dog she’s walking. Animal lover. She has a kind heart.

  A man jogging shirtless. He thinks he’s hot shit. And he sort of is. He wants people to notice him. And I do.

  A mother pushing a crying baby in a stroller. She’s looking at her phone, not her screaming child. She doesn’t even give the kid a glance. Distracted. And probably a little neglectful.

  A handsome man with facial scruff sitting on a park bench across from me looking at his phone.

  The ping on my phone alerts me to a new text.

  Lucas: People-watching again?

  Lawrence: I am.

  Lucas: I’m dying to touch you again. I wasn’t even close to being finished with you.

  My insides do a backflip.

  I glance up at Lucas and he’s looking at his phone. He’s purposely ignoring me now, pretending that I’m not sitting on the bench across from him.

  Lawrence: No chance of that until my brother’s gone. He’s on high alert.

  Lucas: I suspected. Did he slam me much?

  Lawrence: He may have reinforced his warning where you’re concerned.

  Lucas: Sounds about right. I hope he wasn’t too convincing.

  Lawrence: Not even a little. I can’t wait for you to touch me again.

  Lucas: I have to go b/c I’m speaking in fifteen minutes. TTYL.

  Lawrence: OK.

  My eyes follow Lucas as he walks away, and damn, his ass looks great in those jeans. I can’t wait to see him out of them again. And next time, I’ll get a better look.

  * * *

  I’ve spent the day hanging with Ollie, watching him do his thing. He’s good at what he does. I’m proud of my little brother for achieving his dreams.

  “It’s time for me to get on the road.”

  It seems like Ollie just got here. “Are you sure you can’t stay the night and go back tomorrow?”

  “Wish I could. I’d love to spend more time together, bu
t maybe I can make it over to Savannah in a few weeks.”

  Or maybe I can come back to Birmingham? I wouldn’t mind seeing Lucas again.

  “I’d love that.”

  “Do you want to hang out at the festival for a little longer or do you want to go back to my apartment?”

  “The festival has been fun but I’m just about festival-ed out after two days of it. But I need to say goodbye to everyone since I won’t be seeing them again before I go home.”

  The goodbye display between Lucas and me is almost comical. I wonder if everyone believes our act or do they see straight through the façade?

  My Wagoneer is blistering hot after sitting in the scorching sun for two days. I lower the windows, crank the air up, and position the vents so they’re hitting me in the face. I’ll definitely need a shower before Lucas comes over so I don’t smell like sweaty asscrack.

  Lucas: Still planning to see me tonight?

  Lawrence: Absolutely. What time?

  Lucas: Everything’s over at 8 but I have cleanup, etc. Hope to be out by 9. Ten at the latest.

  Lawrence: Looking forward to it. I’ll be waiting.

  * * *

  Oliver is packed and ready to go. “I’m going to miss you, little brother.”

  “Not for long. Time will fly, and I’ll be in Savannah before you know it.”

  “I look forward to it. And Mom and Dad will be so happy to have you home.”

  I hug him one last time. “I hope Raleigh is okay.”

  “Me too.” He kisses the side of my face. “Drive safe on the way home.”

  “Always do.”

  Ollie leaves and I begin to prepare for my upcoming rendezvous. Nine o’clock comes and goes. Ten is approaching and I know Lucas will be here soon. I’m both eager and nervous.

  Damn, it’s been a long time since I’ve had sex.

  I’m showered, shaved, and sitting on the couch fantasizing about all the things Lucas is going to do to me when a knock on the front door interrupts my thoughts.

  “Coming.” Yes. I hope to be doing that very soon.

  Opening the door, I find a damp-haired Lucas on the other side. And, fuck, is he ever sexy.

  “Looks like someone just showered.” I guess that explains why it’s after ten and he’s just now showing up.

  Opening the door wider, he comes into the apartment. “Sorry I’m running late but I couldn’t come as I was.”

  “It’s okay.”

  The door closes and he pulls me into his arms, his mouth going straight for my neck. Man, he’s just out of the gate and is going straight for it. I had hoped for a little foreplay but I guess this works too.

  “Mmm… lavender and vanilla. I love the way you smell.”

  I was wrong. He isn’t skipping foreplay. He’s sniffing me.

  “I’m pretty fond of the way you smell as well.”

  The tip of his nose glides up the side of my neck. “I was wondering how you’d feel about going to my house instead of staying here?”

  I hadn’t given it any thought but the idea makes sense. And I’d get to see where and how Lucas lives. “I would love to go to your house.”

  “Do you need a minute to pack your things?”

  “I’m mostly packed already. It won’t take me but a minute to grab the rest of my things.”

  I take a step toward the guest room, but he grabs my wrist and pulls me into his arms. “I can’t wait. I need to do this first.”

  His hands are on my lower back pulling me against him, his mouth possessing mine with eager lips and tongue. Mmm… he tastes like mint.

  He lightly sucks my bottom lip into his mouth. “I’ve wanted to do that all day.”

  “I had a very similar feeling.”

  His hands are all over me. Touching. Squeezing. Rubbing. “I could hardly work for thinking about you.”

  “I’m not sure we’re going to make it to your house if we keep this up.”

  He grasps my ass and hauls me against him. Warm breath hits my skin when he growls against my neck, “Go. And hurry. I need you and I don’t want to have to wait a minute longer than necessary.”

  I sprint up the stairs. Makeup. Hair dryer. Clothing. It all goes into my bag without any regard for organization. No time for that.

  I barrel down the stairs with my bags. “I’m ready.”

  “Do you want to follow me in your car or ride with me?”

  It seems silly to not drive mine. “I’ll take my car so you don’t have to bring me back to the apartment in the morning.”

  “You sound confident that you’ll be leaving early.”

  And he sounds confident that I won’t. “It’s a six-hour drive and I’d like to get an early start.”

  “You may find that spending the morning with me trumps getting an early start.”

  “Tomorrow’s Monday. Won’t you have to go to work in the morning?”

  “I’m taking off because of the long weekend at the festival. That means you can stay as long as you like.”

  I really need to get back to check in with Winter. “We’ll see.”

  * * *

  We enter his house through the garage and I quickly learn something about Lucas Broussard. He’s no slob. Everything I see is organized and in its place. “You’re neat.”

  “Is there any other way to be?”

  “Yes, according to some people.” He didn’t see Ollie’s apartment before I cleaned it. It was a damn disaster.

  “You seem like one who would like things in order.”

  “I do, which is completely out of character for someone like me.”

  Free spirits typically don’t become disturbed by something as trivial as disorganization. But I’m twitchy right now because my bag is a disaster.

  He reaches for my duffel. “Have a seat and I’ll put this in my bedroom.”

  I don’t sit. Instead, I circle the living room. Wood-planked flooring. Brown leather sofa. Rich caramel walls. His living room is warm and masculine. I don’t see a woman’s touch anywhere except for the frames holding Aubrey’s pictures. And they’re everywhere. I’m guessing Bridgette makes a habit of giving him framed photos. I highly doubt that he chose these.

  I’m holding a picture of Aubrey in a long, flowing white dress when Lucas comes into the living room. “She’s a beautiful child, isn’t she?”

  I return the photo to the shelf. Not a bit of dust. “Yes. And it’s clear to see how much she adores her Uncle Bou.”

  “It’s actually Uncle Boudreaux but she shortened it. Bridge nicknamed me Boudreaux right after I moved here. No one called me Lucas in high school. I was known as Boudreaux Broussard.”

  “Boudreaux Broussard. That’s a tongue twister.”

  “I guess it is.” He walks toward the kitchen. “Do you want a beer?”

  “Yeah, I’ll take one.”

  He returns with an unlabeled bottle. “I have a new brew Oliver and Porter are working on. It’s not quite there yet but it’s pretty damn good. Wanna try it?”

  “Hell yeah.” I love being privy to new products. I get to rub that in Ivy’s and Kelsey’s faces.

  Lucas places a glass on the coffee table and pours the hazy orange liquid into the glass. I’m surprised by the color. Doesn’t look like anything they’ve done before.

  “Has good head, eh?”

  He’s not going to let me live that one down.

  “Yes, it does. What is it?”

  “Organic apricot ale.”

  I bring it to my nose. “Mmm… that smells good.”

  “We want to try appealing to more female consumers. Fruity beers seem to be the way.”

  I would agree with that. “I’m always drawn to a fruity option.”

  I take a drink once the foam settles. “Rich. Full-bodied. Sweet with a hint of tartness. This is a beer I’d take to the beach.”

  He snaps his fingers. “Yes. We’re shooting for this to be our first summer seasonal.”

  “Great choice. How’s the pumpkin ale coming?�
� Seasonals are always great.

  “Oliver and Porter knocked it out of the park. The first batch rolls out of the brewery in eight weeks.” He lifts his glass of ale. “We’d love to see this one go out in March.”

  “It’s delicious. I’m sure it’ll be a huge success.”

  “Did you know you’re the reason Oliver works so hard to grow the organic line?”

  His words tug at my heartstrings. “I had no idea.”

  I take another drink, savoring the flavor and the knowledge that Lucas has just given me.

  “What made you decide to show up and surprise Oliver this weekend?”

  “There’s more than one reason, but it was mostly because I’ve been worried about his recent behavior.” Although I must say that he seemed like the old Ollie today.

  “What kind of change have you seen in him?”

  “He didn’t seem to be himself the last couple of weeks. I was tired of him ignoring my texts, so I came to set my little brother’s ass straight.”

  Lucas smiles around the rim of his glass. “You said there was more than one reason?”

  “I had something important to tell him, and I didn’t want to do it over the phone.”

  “Sounds intense.”

  Intense doesn’t really cover it. “It is.”

  I’d love someone else’s take on the kidney donation thing. I barely know Lucas so I might have a chance of getting an unbiased opinion from him. “Did you know that Ollie and I were adopted?”

  “I’d heard that.”

  “We were taken away from our biological parents. They were heroin junkies. The neglect was awful but our mother wasn’t just an addict. She was cruel, and we were her favorite victims because we were helpless to fight back.”

  To this day, I don’t understand why she enjoyed mistreating us. But it sparked something in me. An intense desire—maybe even a need—to unconditionally love my own children.

  Lucas puts his hand on my leg and squeezes. “I’m sorry that you went through that.”

  “We were placed with wonderful foster parents who later adopted us. The rest of our childhood was terrific so our story has a happy ending.”

  “I know your parents well. They’re wonderful people. Libby has been after me for years to come visit them in Savannah.”