by Bijou Hunter
“As you know, Mark’s just had a baby,” he begins without any fanfare. “He’s requested to change his shifts, so he can spend more time at home with his wife and kids.”
“Okay,” I say, suspecting where he’s going.
“I’d like you to pick up his night shifts.”
“And keep my own?”
“Yes.”
“You already have me taking Garth’s weekend shifts. That doesn’t leave me much time off.”
“No, I suspect it doesn’t.”
We eye one another, neither saying what we’re thinking.
“I need at least a few nights off a week.”
“I understand it’s a lot to ask, but you’re the only single person on the force right now. Dina needs the weekends to be home with her kids. Chad is taking care of a sick parent plus he has his wife and kids to think of.”
“That’s fine, but there are other people to pick up the slack.”
“They all have families.”
“Well, I have a girlfriend as you’ve probably heard. I can’t go weeks without seeing her.”
Arnold didn’t expect me to bring up Journey. I normally keep my life private from everyone. These people wouldn’t even know my address if it wasn’t on my personnel file. Of course, as cops, they’d likely figure it out.
“Your grandmother heard something about that. She’d like you to bring the girl to the house sometime to meet us.”
Nodding, I let Arnold have his lies. He’s well aware of who the “girl” is and his feelings about the situation have likely been expressed many times with many people. For me, he won’t let onto how he disapproves. If he learned anything from dealing with my mother, it was to never show his cards. The more he told Jerilyn something was a bad idea, the more likely she was to jump head first into it.
I’m not my mother, but he’s still wary of my responses. He doesn’t get me. Am I like him and the family? Am I like Jerilyn? Am I like my thug father? When Arnold doesn’t know the answers, he plays things close to the vest. I do the same thing but not today.
“Sure. I’ll talk to Journey about coming over to your place, but I’ll need a few days off to actually see her.”
“I understand, but I can’t change the situation you’re in with the schedule.”
“You write up the schedule, so I suspect you can change it.”
Arnold leans back in his leather chair and rubs his bald head. He doesn’t know what to do to make me accept the situation and go away. My grandmother would try to feed me. That’s her only move, but Arnold only knows how to use the job to keep me in line.
“Dating is a world of difference from marriage and children. I know you probably don’t see it that way, but I have to make sure my people can be with their families.”
“I’d like a family too one day. How will that happen if I’m working all of the time?”
“You’re free during the days.”
I fight the urge to glare at my grandfather. He’s so full of shit, but what can I do? The only reason he brought me into his office was to let me know the schedule changes were a shot across the bow. I’m dating someone he doesn’t approve of, and he wants me to change that fact. Since I won’t, he’s making it nearly impossible to see her.
Not giving him the satisfaction of knowing he’s throwing a wrench into my plans with Journey, I stand up and nod.
“Good point. Journey has long lunches and gets off pretty early from work. I’ll figure it out. Are we done?”
Arnold doesn’t reveal his disappointment at my response. I imagine him hiding his feelings from Jerilyn and praying she stopped her hysterics. The only way my mother ever gave up the fight was when the last breath left her body. Nothing short of death could prevent her from defying this man.
I don’t plan to follow in her footsteps. Arnold can play his games, but I’m not my mother, and he doesn’t affect me like he did her. I’ll get what I want in the long run, and I’m nothing if not patient.
19 Snake Charmers
Journey
Days pass without hearing from Donovan except for a few short texts. I’m restless wondering about him, so I decide to find a diversion.
Tumbling Rock’s Main Street is already decked out for Halloween. When Christine needs to work late, Justice and I decide to take the kids to check out the décor. Even Poppy and Felix lose their too cool demeanors to remark on all the creepy carved jack-o-lanterns in front of Granny’s Gift Shop.
Everyone splits off when Justice proves too slow while Poppy walks too fast. Soon, I don’t know where everyone is beside Otto who’s attached at my hip. The boy and I talk about Christmas even though neither of us knows if he’ll still be at my house by then. His mom might get out early, or his grandma might decide she wants the kids back. The unknowns hang over our fun.
As a not so welcomed distraction from those worries, I spot Grandpa Zeb stepping out of a coffee shop. Noticing us, he considers walking away. Instead, he no doubt decides we’re having too much fun, so he must interfere.
“Where’s your mama?” he asks Justice who appears behind me.
“I don’t know,” Justice says, “Where’s yours?”
“She’s dead,” he mutters.
“Oh, yeah. Sorry for your loss. Well, bye.”
“Which one of you is dating the cop?” he asks.
“Why can’t you tell us apart?” Poppy loudly whines, and I’m surprised to find half of the family now standing behind me. Before I can wonder if they’ve been following me all of this time, Poppy continues her complaining, “We look nothing alike. I’m attractive, and they’re, well, fill in the blank.”
“Aren’t you the one with the fat father?” Zeb asks.
Justice and I laugh, but Poppy isn’t amused.
“Am I wrong?” Zeb pushes when his youngest granddaughter only gives him the death glare.
“My father has a glandular problem.”
Having heard this lie before, I roll my eyes and ask Zeb, “What did you want with Mom?”
“No one answered my question about the cop.”
“The cop is my lover.”
“Barf,” Poppy says, walking away.
“You got any way to fix parking tickets?”
“Yes, but I won’t do it for you.”
“Parking tickets?” Justice asks. “Don’t you ride a bicycle?”
“Not always. You shouldn’t have short hair. It makes you look too much like a man.”
“You shouldn’t have long hair. Makes you look too much like a hideous woman.”
I step between them and ask, “Can’t we just agree that you’re both correct and move on?”
Behind Zeb, Court appears with Felix and Matilda. I see him consider changing courses and avoiding the showdown. Justice makes a grunting noise at his indecision, forcing her man to relent.
“What are we talking about?” Court asks, joining us.
“I’m sexy, right?” Justice demands and then adds for the kids, “In a motherly way, of course.”
Felix laughs, but Otto is too busy staring down the old man.
“What’s his problem?” Zeb asks me.
“He’s protecting me.”
“What’s wrong with you that you need a kid to protect you?”
“Nothing. I’m perfectly capable of beating the shit out of you. He just doesn’t know that.”
“Do you think you could take me?” Zeb asks, grinning and stroking his bicep. “I used to box.”
“So did I, and my boxing occurred this century.”
“You’re rude kids.”
“That’s likely genetic,” I grunt right back.
“Tell your mama that I said hi. I’ll come by one day when your thug father ain’t around. He isn’t living there, is he?”
“Yes, in fact, he is,” Justice immediately says. “The lovers are inseparable. If you go looking for Christine, you’re bound to find Jared.”
“But not the fat ex-husband,” Zeb says, noticing Poppy’s return.
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Poppy dramatically stomps her foot on the ground. “He has a glandular problem.”
“Did you get it too? I notice you’re a little too round in the face.”
“I’m sixteen, you walking pubic hair. If I kill you, I’ll get locked up for a few years and then have my record scrubbed. Call me fat again and I’m heading to juvenile hall.”
Laughing at her rage, Zeb steps into the road and waves at someone across the street.
“You’re a fricking idiot,” I tell Justice.
“How do you figure, Eyebrows?”
“Now everyone in town will think Mom and Dad are together.”
“So what? If either of them gets mad, I’ll tell them Matilda put me up to it. Who can be angry at this face?” she asks, lightly pinching the girl’s cheeks. “No one, I tell you. She’s my get out of jail card.”
Matilda smiles at me, and I can’t help returning it. My gaze flashes to Zeb on the other side of the road where he’s already telling people our business. I see him pointing at us, and the other guy laughs. Christine and Jared will not be happy.
20 Snake Charmers
Journey
Usually, my lunch periods are low-key. When I first started my job, the other staff invited me to eat with them. I’d always decline. Christine often told me how a person needs time in their head if they want to exist happily in the world. Lunchtime is my head time.
These days, I mostly daydream about Donovan and Otto. One has gotten under my skin. The other is my responsibility. They’re both expecting more from me than I’d like to offer.
My life for too long has revolved around my sisters and mother. Just them. Just the four of us. No one else.
Now I have Jared and Court and Felix and Otto and Matilda and Donovan, and it’s too damn much.
I’m lazy, I guess. Set in my ways like my grandparents who complain about the same crap they’ve been bitching about since Christine was a kid. Is that really who I hope to be?
Of course, I should change, but I don’t want to. The stubborn, likely immature, part of me wants to wait to see if I can get what I want without having to give anything up.
Days without any concrete messages, Donovan sends me a text asking to visit for lunch. I consider not responding until it’s too late for him to show up. It’s a coward move, and I’m not a coward. Still, I’m fricking tempted to avoid something that might not go well.
Whenever I think of seeing Donovan, I become edgy and want to bail. I fantasize about how much better it’d be to stay home with my family. Or how awkward conversation with him will be. I think of a million reasons why I don’t want to hang out with him.
Then I see him, and I hate for him to leave. Every time, I’m surprised by how addictive I find him. I promise myself to relax more next time. Except I don’t. I do what I’m doing now by wishing he hadn’t texted, and we weren’t meeting. I dream of a lunch where I’m alone with my thoughts or can watch TV shows on my phone. Donovan again feels like an inconvenience.
Until he walks through the door and I’m stuck on him again. Even before he touches me, Donovan has my stomach knotted up, and my skin flushed.
There’s a moment when I’ve spotted him before he’s noticed me. I see how closed off he appears normally. No one would approach him with that hard expression. Even looking hotter than sin, Donovan radiates a “fuck off” vibe to everyone in his vicinity.
When his gaze finds mine, Donovan’s walls come crashing down. For a second, he isn’t sexy as sin, but a kid on Christmas morning. He’s both excited about what might be under the tree and scared he’ll be disappointed by his gifts. As soon as I share his smile, a knowing arrogance replaces Donovan’s fear. No matter how much I hide how tied up I get over him, he always sees right through my lies.
I notice how Donovan moves through a crowd. He’s aware of everyone around me, even if he doesn’t look their direction. I know he’s a cop, but his movements remind me more of a wary Jared or Court. Perhaps, Donovan did inherit the outlaw gene from the biker sperm donor.
Unsure how I feel about dating a guy that reminds me of my dad, I don’t react right away when he kisses me.
“Are you broken?” he asks when my lips do nothing.
Shaking my head, I smile. “I’m playing hard to get.”
“Mission accomplished.”
His second kiss is vastly better with the participation of my lips. While I’m dying to get a handful of his ass, I feel my nosy coworkers eyeballing our kissing action. They even make the same smoochy noises Poppy and I do when mocking Justice and Court.
“Stop making me look human to these people,” I say, gently pushing him away.
Donovan wraps me tighter in his arms and nibbles my ear. “You’ll need to put your whole body into it if you want me to let go.”
My hands press against his chest, pushing him back. Donovan still won’t relent, and I can’t use my full strength. Realizing the hard to get routine wastes energy, I wrap my arms around his waist and fight the urge to give his ass a good squeeze.
“This was a surprise,” I say when he guides me outside.
“We left things open-ended. I didn’t want to go too long without showing up unannounced or you might find another stalker to humor.”
“That isn’t such an irrational fear. I’ve got plenty of stalkers flying low and waiting to be waved in.”
Donovan gives me a little grin. “Where should we eat?”
“I don’t care.”
“I don’t want to spend most of the time traveling, so let’s do the sub shop across the street.”
“You want to focus on me instead, is that right?”
“Spot on.”
I wrap my arm through his, enjoying his warm scent and sly grin. These moments addict me to everything Donovan offers. I forget how great my old life felt or how I hate change. Somehow when he has power over me, I feel so much better than when in control.
“I never asked you what your worst meal was,” I say once we’re sitting across from each other at the crowded sub shop.
Donovan frowns, not remembering the question he asked me during our hike. Once he catches up, he gives me a little smile.
“My mom hadn’t shopped in a while, and the fridge was bare. I decided to make a sandwich with everything left around the kitchen. Let’s just say pickles and mustard sandwiches with olives and chives tastes better coming up than going down.”
Setting down my sandwich, I cross my arms. “Shitty parents piss me off.”
“She’s dead, so no reason to get pissed off.”
“I’m not pissed off for you right now. I’m angry over the kid version of you that ate crap because of his then fricking loser mom.”
“You want to save me like you did Otto.”
Shrugging, I take my sandwich. “I didn’t save Otto. Justice did. He just likes me better, so I ended up with him.”
“Sure, sure, you big toughie.”
Holding his gaze, I wish I could kiss him. “I’m sorry your mother sucked. I can’t imagine what that’s like. My mom loved me so much, and I don’t get why any mom wouldn’t love you as much.”
“If we were alone right now, I’d…” Donovan doesn’t finish and instead stands up, leans over, and plants a kiss on my waiting lips.
“I’m not sure I could handle being alone with you,” I admit once his ass in back in his seat. “I have trouble keeping my hands to myself when you’re around.”
“No harm in being friendly.”
“I’m not sure I’m ready to jump on the Donovan bull and ride that bastard to completion.”
I frown at the way those words sounded. Donovan only keeps grinning as if he has me just where he wants.
“Are you working every night this week?”
“Looks like it.”
“Can’t you switch out with someone else?”
“Everyone else is married with kids, so I get the crap shifts.”
“Yes, but those queefs already have people keeping their beds wa
rm. You’re trying to close the deal here. You need to explain the situation to those fricks. That way, you can get the nights off and take me out and make me swoon so hard I fall into your bed.”
Donovan’s taut body leans back in his tiny chair, and I wonder if it’ll topple over from his long frame.
“I’ll see what I can do to get a night off. Fake an illness if need be.”
“You do that, and I promise I’ll try my best to let you catch me.”
“That’s the most roundabout promise I’ve ever heard and the hottest too.”
Grinning, I finish my sandwich without speaking. I’m afraid to say something to ruin the mood. Donovan never stops watching me. He eats his sub, downs his drink, and cleans up his mess without peeling away his gaze. I wish I could remain so steady, but the intensity of his expression leaves me flustered.
I walk Donovan to his Jeep where he presses me against the hard metal with his equally hard body. Around us, the world goes on, but I only feel his touch and taste his lips. Having nothing exist beyond him both excites and terrifies me.
How can I cope when I’m lost in lust? How did Justice manage feeling this way when her common sense and brain power is considerably weaker than mine?
My body aches by the time he releases me. Donovan gives me a few final kisses, clearly wanting to stay longer. Too bad my lunch break is over, and he has to prep for his shift. We have lives to lead, but I only want to suck on his tongue more and rub myself against his thigh until my body is satisfied enough to let go.
Long after Donovan leaves, I’m hornier than a twelve-year-old boy with a pile of porn. I can’t think straight, even after I splash water on my face and neck. I seriously consider dousing my nether regions with something icy to make the heat subside.
I swear time stands still on the drive home. Traffic goes too fricking slow. Every light takes too fricking long. I’m even irritated when Hal runs out to see me and blocks my way into the house.
“What’s your deal?” Poppy asks when I shove the front door open like a woman unhinged.
“Donovan came by at lunchtime and threw off my schedule. Now I’m hot and need a shower. I’ve had a long day.”
