A Real Goode Time

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A Real Goode Time Page 25

by Jasinda Wilder


  Besides…

  I couldn’t.

  Selfishly, I couldn’t.

  And unselfishly, I couldn’t take that from Torie, even if she was offering it willingly. I couldn’t just get up and then leave.

  Something told me if she made that move tonight and I said no, though…she’d be upset. Hurt. Maybe angry.

  But I had no other choice.

  I had to.

  For both of us.

  Somehow the girl made jeans and a T-shirt erotic. Maybe it was just me, and the way I saw her, but it was just sinful the way she filled out the jeans, what she did to a plain blue V-neck with pockets over each breast.

  Her chunky boots were left open and mostly unlaced, the cuffs of her jeans loosely tucked into the openings. Her hair was done in twin braids, one hanging over each shoulder, and the very ends of each braid twisting and curling up. A little pink on her lips, some dark over her eyelids. Just her, natural. Her scent. Her lovely face. Her perfect body.

  And our first real date.

  We drove with her mom, and ended up at a place on the waterfront, parking in a private lot near a bar called Badd’s Bar and Grille, which faced the water. Bobbing in the channel was a huge yacht, a truly massive thing, what I think they called a mega-yacht.

  I whistled. “Damn, that’s a big boat.”

  Liv laughed. “It belongs to Xavier and Harlow. That’s actually where tonight’s festivities are happening.”

  “What? On that giant boat?” I asked, suddenly feeling a little out of my depth.

  “Yeah.” She was breezy. “It’ll be a great time.” She glanced at me, and Liv’s observant gaze caught my nerves. “Rhys, they’re all just people. It’ll be fine.”

  I laughed. “I’m just…I’ve never been on or in anything that expensive. That’s worth, like, literally more than everything everyone in my entire hometown has ever and will ever own put together.”

  “And yet, it’s still just a boat. Goes on the water. Runs on fuel. Has toilets where people poop and beds where people screw.”

  Torie snorted. “Ohmygod, Mom. Really?”

  Liv just laughed. “Would it help or make things worse for you to know that there will be at least two famous people on the boat tonight?”

  I sighed. “Torie has mentioned that this whole wedding is for Lexie and Myles, as in Myles North.”

  “Right.” Liv gestured at the boat as we walked along the dock toward it. “And that boat belongs to Harlow Grace.”

  “Harlow…” I let out a breath. “Harlow Grace? Shit.”

  Torie eyed me. “What?”

  “The first time I saw her in Finding Diamond I was, like, gone for her. Huge crush. I mean, I’ve grown out of it since, but still. Harlow Grace, huh?”

  “Around us, she’s just Low.” Liv eyed me. “And you know that my…well, I think of them as nephews, even though they’re nephews-in-law, and even then Lucas and I aren’t married, but still, they’re my nephews. Canaan and Corin, and their wives Aerie and Tate, they’re all musicians, and successful ones at that. Canaan and Corin were in a band called Bishop’s Pawn, and now Canaan and Aerie tour together as Canary.”

  I nodded. “Heard of all of them. I was a fan of Bishop’s Pawn, but I’m typically more of a classic rock guy. It’s the one kind of music you can put on in a shop that just about no one will ever complain about.”

  “What kind of shop?” Liv asked.

  “Auto. I repair and rebuild big block engines.”

  “And Rhys restores cars, and builds houses, and is getting his realtor license,” Torie put in. “He’s being modest.”

  Liv smiled at me. “Well, you’ll fit right in. We have builders, realtors, designers, marketers, computer hackers, musicians, painters, photographers, bartenders and bar owners…let’s see, what else? Pilots, ex-Navy SEALs, ex-football players turned personal trainers. Someone in the family can do just about everything. And oh, don’t forget Xavier, our resident robotics genius inventor.”

  “And actors, and dancers turned trainer and teacher, and women’s lit majors turned world famous musicians, and…me, who does nothing.” Torie said, laughing and sighing.

  Liv shook her by the shoulders, gentle and playful. “And that is why you’re here. You’ll find your place and your purpose. Just give it time.”

  You’ll fit right in. I’ve never fit in anywhere. I didn’t fit in back home, didn’t fit in any of the towns I stayed in on the way to New Haven. And even in New Haven I only really settled in because I got a good deal on a property and I was tired of being itinerant.

  We were crossing a fancy gangway thing, a bridge between the dock and the boat, with chrome handrails and nonslip footing, which shifted with the bobbing of the boat. There were already people on board, gathered in a living room-type area on the main level—the walls slid aside entirely so the whole main floor of the boat was open on both sides. Music was playing from invisible speakers, and I saw a line of restaurant buffet-style food service trays with the little cans of flammable gel underneath. There were people on the top deck, too, gathered in groups. So many people. All laughing, and everyone knew everyone else. Family.

  A big, big family.

  Nerves rifled through me.

  I’ve never been great with big parties. I’m fine in small groups, and among people I know, but big parties full of strangers? Nah. I get jittery and don’t know how to be.

  Torie noticed. “You okay?”

  I grinned at her. “Yeah, sure, I’m good.”

  She rolled her eyes at me. “Don’t bullshit me, Rhys. I can tell you’re about to shit your pants.”

  “I don’t know about that, but this is a lot of people. And I only know you.”

  Torie laughed. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I only know my mom and sisters. Everyone else is just as much a stranger to me as they are you.”

  Liv slid between us as we stood on the boat, and slid an arm around each of us. “Strangers are just friends you haven’t met yet. Trust me, everyone is wonderful. I know it can be intimidating at first, but by the end of the night, I promise you, you’ll be one of the clan.” She pulled us toward the living room. “Now come on. Put on your big girl and big boy panties and make friends.”

  I gave in. “All right, all right.”

  Liv wasn’t lying. I spent the first hour being introduced to roughly two dozen people. Now, make no mistake, I’m strictly hetero, and not a perv either. But the men were all hot, jacked, intimidating, scary, and entirely too cool, and the women were all fucking gorgeous, each one with a body to kill for, perfect hair, cool clothes, amazing stories, musical laughs.

  At one point, I pulled Torie aside. “Are we being punked?” I hissed to her.

  Her eyes were wide, scanning over the crowd. “I feel like we are. Did you meet Bax yet? That is the most muscular human being I’ve ever seen. His muscles have muscles, and those muscles have veins. But he’s also, like, sweet and hilarious.”

  “Right?” I shook my head. “Myles is, literally, the coolest dude I’ve ever met. He’s the actual walking definition of a rock star.”

  Torie sighed. “I know. But he’s perfect for Lex. They’re crazy together, but it works.” She indicated a cluster of women all standing together not far away, each with a glass of wine. “I know you’ve noticed the women, who are all not exactly lacking in the beauty department.”

  I shook my head, eyes wide. “Uh, yeah, I’ve noticed.”

  Torie grinned. “If you had to pick, who’s the hottest?”

  “Of everyone on the boat?”

  She nodded. “Yeah. Honest answer. Quick, no thinking,” she said, snapping her fingers.

  I pretended to scan the living room, which I’d learned was called the saloon, because the living room of a fancy boat has to have a fancy name. “Well, it’s a tough competition to call one person over the other but…” I brought my gaze back to her. “That’s easy—you.”

  She rolled her eyes, dripping vitriolic sarcasm. “Yeeeaaahh
h, right.”

  “For real. I’m not kidding”

  She snorted as she gestured at the group of women. “Look at them, Rhys. D-cups and size nothing waists, each of them. Big juicy butts, perfect hair, perfect makeup. And you’re gonna try and tell me I’m even in the same universe as women like them?”

  “Whose butt is juicy?” I heard a female voice ask.

  “Whose butt is big?” asked another.

  “D-cup? Please. I’m double D, thank you very fucking much. Triple D, if I’m nursing.”

  “Size nothing waist? Try size seven, sweetheart. I haven’t been below a five since I had the baby.”

  We were surrounded by the group of women we’d been talking about.

  Torie was frozen, blushing. “I…I…”

  There was a burst of cackling laughter from a pixie blond with small tits and a fairly sizeable butt for a woman who was barely five feet tall. She wrapped an arm around Torie. “Honey, you’re comparing apples to oranges to kumquats.”

  “Yeah, and you’re the kum-twat, I mean, kumquat.” This from a short woman with longer hair and ridiculously huge boobs.

  As Torie had pointed out, there wasn’t a plain woman among them.

  “Shut up, Mara.” She said this straight-faced and turned back to Torie. “Ignore her, she’s a slut. My point is—I’m Claire by the way—I’ve decided to be your fairy goddessmother, and I hereby vow to make sure you feel at home and that everyone is nice, and to make sure you have at least eight shots of whiskey before the night is over.”

  “I’m twenty.” Torie lifted an eyebrow.

  Claire blinked. Turned, cupped her hands around her mouth, and bellowed. “MAMA LIVVIE!”

  Torie gaped. “Mama Livvie?”

  Claire winked at Torie. “Oh yeah. She’s our honorary Mama Bear. You have the best mother in the whole wide motherfuckin’ world, by the way. Hope you know that.”

  Liv came over with a can of light beer in her hand, and a gargantuan grizzly bear turned human at her side. “You bellowed, my love?”

  The man was six-six at least, and built like a bear, with massive arms that were solid muscle, wearing a cut-off T-shirt and sporting tattoos and a salt and pepper goatee.

  “Yeah. Can I get Torie naked wasted even though she’s not twenty-one yet?”

  Liv snickered. “I dunno about naked wasted, but she’s lived on her own since she was seventeen, and I’m under no misapprehensions that she hasn’t indulged in that time. So I would say that Torie is entirely capable of making her own decisions on that score.” She shrugged. “Beware, though, of all my daughters, Torie is the most unpredictable. You never know what you’re gonna get with her, so I’m guessing her tolerance might surprise you.”

  I blinked at Mom. “Unpredictable?”

  Mom just smiled at me. “Yes, my dear. You’re a ‘still waters run deep’ sort. Somewhere between Cassie and Charlie. Not a livewire like Lex, but not a goody-goody like Charlie.”

  “I’m not a goody-goody,” came a voice from one side, and a woman who was clearly a Goode sister pushed into the circle, which widened to accommodate her. “I just don’t find it fun to flaunt the rules. Usually.”

  Beside her was a tall, angular man with messy black hair and mirrored sunglasses on his head. Just going by appearances, he looked like he was Native American. He was wearing black jeans, big black shitkicker biker boots, and a black leather vest with motorcycle club patches all over it.

  I was just listening, watching the banter.

  “So, by the by, how did this mini gathering come about?” Liv asked.

  Claire jerked a thumb at Torie. “This one was expressing how she has a major girl crush on all of us.”

  The other blond, Mara, I think her name was, whacked Claire across the shoulder. “Oh shut up, bitch-face. She was not. She was…well…”

  “I was being insecure,” Torie finished. “Everyone here is beautiful and voluptuous, and I’ve always had a bit of a thing about being flat.”

  Claire turned to face Torie and, brazen as you please, cupped Torie’s boobs over her shirt, giving them a heft and a squeeze. She shook her head, pressed her hands to her shirt to highlight a whole of, well, admittedly not much. “Nope. You’re not flat—this is flat.” She cut a look at me. “Avert your eyes, new guy to whom I’ve not been introduced, you too Papa Lucas.”

  I blinked, hesitated a moment, and turned around, found myself next to the bear-man, who was also facing away.

  “These are itty bitty titties,” I heard Claire say. “Barely mosquito bites. You have magnificent mammaries, and you’re being ridiculous, and if you don’t stop it we’re going to be fighting and trust me, you don’t want to get on my bad side. I can be a major bitch. You’re sexy as fuck, and your boy toy is a lucky, lucky man.”

  “Hear hear,” I said, pumping my fist in the air.

  That got a round of laughter, and Torie span me back around. “This is Rhys.”

  Claire shook my hand. “I’m Claire. Welcome to the clan, Rhys. You scared yet?”

  I laughed. “A little. But only of all the giant men.”

  The bear-man reached out a massive paw. “I’m Lucas.”

  “Nice to meet you, Lucas.”

  He grinned. “Come on. I’ll get you acquainted. Let’s let these ladies talk girl talk. And by girl talk, I mean dicks and periods.”

  “Women talk about dicks?” I asked. “I didn’t figure that.”

  “Women are nasty, kid. Get ’em alone, and they’ll be cackling about cock and comparing boobs in no time. And this crew? They don’t even need to be in a girls-only crowd, as you just witnessed.”

  “I don’t believe you, sorry,” I laughed.

  Lucas snagged a nearby woman—this one with fiery red hair. “Dru. When it’s just you girls, what do you talk about?”

  “Our periods and, honestly, penises. How silly they are, and how obsessed you men are with them. And, after a few drinks, maybe some more complimentary things, and a few jokes.” She laughed, and reached out to shake my hand. “I’m Dru.”

  “Rhys.”

  “This is Torie’s boyfriend, or something like that,” Lucas said.

  I laughed. “More something like that, I think.”

  “Ah, the old it’s complicated,” Dru said. “Let me uncomplicate it for you—if you try to leave her, and it feels wrong, it is. Simple as that. You can fight it, but in the end, you won’t be right until you’re with her. On the flip side, if you leave and it hurts but it’s fine, you’ll get over it.”

  I rubbed the back of my neck, laughing. “I guess we’ll have to see, huh?”

  Lucas whacked my back, and I think it was meant to be a playful, affectionate thing, but it made my teeth rattle. “Come on. Most of the guys are up top shooting whiskey like fools.”

  “Rhys!” I heard Torie’s voice behind me.

  I stopped, turned. “Miss me already, huh?”

  “Of course,” she said, deadpan enough that I don’t think it was a joke. “I just wanted to say go for it.”

  “Go for what?”

  She gestured at the stairs to the roof. “Have fun. Be a little irresponsible.”

  I held her gaze. Nodded. “You too. This is your family.”

  Lucas was watching this exchange; after Torie hesitated, then waved awkwardly and went back to the circle of women, he nudged me to the stairs.

  “That’s a lot of complicated you two got going on,” he noted.

  I laughed, a somewhat bitter sound. “Yeah. You’re telling me.”

  He directed me across the top deck to where the men, a good dozen or more of them, were all gathered in a circle, some standing, some sitting on chairs, others leaning against railings.

  “Well, you’ll sort it out. For now, just relax.” Another of those teeth-jarring back pats. “Cut loose if you want. I’m the self-assigned sober daddy, so I’ll be here to pick you up if you get sloppy.”

  Like I was one of the crew already.

  And, as the night
wore on, I found myself welcomed as I’d never been in my life. Despite being intimidatingly good-looking, muscular, successful, and cool, the guys were all warm and friendly. There were as many F-bombs dropped as if I was back home, and the triplets—Lucas’s sons, I came to discover—each had a faint southern twang that kept bringing mine out. They were all, as Liv had claimed, rough, wild, a little crazy, fun, vulgar, and just all-around great people. And without even trying, I found myself feeling like one of them. Telling rowdy stories of growing up in the holler, which were always matched by someone else’s story. I was handed a glass with a few ice cubes and roughly six fingers of whiskey. I could tell just from smelling it that it was super high-end old stuff. And when I tasted it, it went down like spicy silk, fiery in my gut.

  I sipped at it, not wanting to get hammered my first time around these guys. But no matter how much I sipped at it, my glass was always full. I’d be talking to someone, gesturing, and someone would just…top it off. I lost count of the number of bottles that got emptied, and even though there was a lot of slurring as the night went on, and a lot of raucous, too-loud laughter, there was never a moment of conflict. No one ever got pissy and lost their temper. No one said anything to offend anyone else, or insulted anyone’s girlfriend or mama.

  I tapped the beefy, rock-hard shoulder of…uh…Bast? I think his name was Bast. By that point I’d had enough to drink that things were fuzzy and loose, and names were getting hard to keep straight. “Hey, so.”

  He peered at me, and I could tell he was as far gone as I was. “So…Rhys. You’re with Torie, right? Mama Livvie’s second-to-youngest.”

  I shrugged, tipped my head. “Sort of. I’m here with her, yes.”

  He laughed. “You’re here, you’re with her, so you’re here with her.” He clapped me on the back, and the teeth-jarring power of it was clearly a family trait. “Bro, just get one thing straight, a’ight? Once you’re in, you don’t leave. Not for good. It’s a thing. Nobody gets into this group and then just vanishes. Doesn’t happen. If Torie brought you, and Mama Livvie approves, you’re in. So, it may be complicated, but shit, dude, it ain’t that complicated.”

  “What I was going to ask was, is it always like this?” I gestured at the men.

 

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