Snake Charmer (Rawkfist MC Book 2)

by Bijou Hunter

  Smiling at his manly attempt, I poke him in the arm. “There you go. I’m proud of you. Now help me anyway because you care about Donovan, and he needs your wise manly assistance.”

  “He is so manly,” Justice whispers right against my ear.

  “Stop breathing on me.”

  “What does Donovan need?” Court asks, attempting to keep us on topic.

  “Guidance,” I say, pushing Justice off of me and walking closer to the man with the ax. “You have issues like him. Your mom died, and your dad wasn’t around, and you were alone, and you turned out well enough to win over Justice, who I admit didn’t need much convincing.”

  “Well, he is very manly.”

  Court smiles at his wife, and I suspect I’ll end up babysitting Matilda and Felix while these two are joined in hip-thrusting matrimony.

  “I don’t get it.”

  “Donovan is hot and cold. I think he wants to bail, but I don’t know. If he wanted to dump me, he might be afraid I’d freak out on him. Violence and mayhem might break out, and I’ve made a lot of threats about turning him into cat food.”

  “So you want me to find out if he’s looking to run?”

  “Yes. I’m getting a lot of mixed signals, and it’s making me crazy.” When Court only stares at me with a weird frown, I ask, “What?”

  “I’ve never seen you so melodramatic. It’s a little unnerving.”

  Justice wraps her arm through mine. “She’s never been so feminine.”

  I glare at her and then sigh loudly. “If you do this for me, I’ll watch the kids so you two can clean the sweat off Court.”

  “You had me at sexy husband.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing. Matilda, go with Auntie Journey,” Justice says, handing the girl to me. “She’ll give you cookies.”

  “Or carrot sticks.”

  Justice looks ready to take back the little girl. Then Court sets down the ax. Once she spots his sweaty chest, my sister decides her kid can survive vegetables.

  “Thank you, Court,” I say before they disappear into the house. “Whatever he says, give it to me straight.”

  Court wants to reassure me. He’s a nice guy that way, but Justice is attached to his thigh and tugging him inside. Finally, he gives me a thumbs-up before shutting the door.

  “Matilda, let’s go inside and figure out your hair.”

  The little girl is so passive that I sometimes forget she’s not a life-sized doll. Does she look at the rest of us and wonder who spiked our drinks to make us so lively? Can she survive a world where everyone has an opinion, and she only has silence? I don’t know the answer, but my big mouth certainly hasn’t made my romantic life any easier.

  29 Snake Charmers

  Donovan

  No one visits my house except Journey and Court. People know a cop lives here, so even Girl Scouts selling cookies and sales people pimping free carpet cleaning stay away.

  Since Journey took my keys and made a spare, I know a knock on the door is Court. He’s likely sporting beer and food in the hopes of bribing his way into the house.

  I open the door to find him eyeballing a neighbor mowing their lawn. The guy he’s glaring at hurries away.

  “Scaring soccer dads. Nice,” I say, holding the door to prevent him from walking inside. “What did you bring?”

  “Beer and hot wings.”

  “You may enter.”

  Court strolls into the house, says a quick hello to a curious Kitty, and then drops the food on the counter. He pops open a beer.

  “How are things with Journey?” Court asks, not wasting time.

  “Are you asking for you or her?”

  “Both.”

  “Things are good.”

  “She doesn’t get that.”

  Exhaling hard, I ask, “Why would she send you?”

  “She’s probably scared of where this conversation could end up.”

  “Yeah, I can see that. I get to sometimes wondering if she’ll bail, but I don’t ask. If she said yes, I wouldn’t know what to do besides handcuff her again. She got pretty PO’d last time I did that.”

  “Handcuffing Journey Sheerer and living to tell the tale,” he says, chuckling and likely wanting to share with Justice immediately. “Damn, she must be into you.”

  “I’d hope so.”

  Court leans in and studies my face. “She’s not wrong about you being a hard man to read.”

  “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

  “You can be square with me. If you want out with Journey, I’ll help you.”

  “That’s the last thing I want,” I nearly growl.

  “Okay, so could you emote a bit more?”

  “Emote?”

  “Be more fucking obvious about your feelings. You’ve met Journey’s family. They don’t hide their feelings. They’re animated. She looks at you with your stony face and unreadable eyes and thinks you’re unhappy. That’s how people in her family act when they’re miserable, and they’re rarely miserable. She doesn’t know what to think.”

  Scratching at my chin, I bet Journey turning to Court for help killed her a little inside. She wants to be a tough chick and the person others turn to for help.

  “What did you do to make sure Justice knew you wanted her?”

  “I followed her around like a puppy dog and humped her leg whenever I got the chance.”

  Grinning, I grab a beer and drink half of it. Journey’s face is sketched in my thoughts. I see her everywhere. Want her every second of the day. Still, she can’t feel what I feel. She doesn’t know what I know. I knew she was on edge even after we said our “I love you.”

  “The thing is…” I pause and give Court a dark stare. “I need this to stay between us. No whispering my secrets to your woman in bed at night.”

  “She’s so busy saying how sexy I am that I doubt Justice would hear me.”

  “You have a strange relationship.”

  “Doesn’t Journey compliment you?”

  “Sure, but she isn’t obnoxious about it.”

  “Maybe we should go on a double date, so you could see how normal people behave.”

  Throwing my head back, I laugh for probably too long. This guy is living in a newlywed fantasy.

  “Clueless fucker. There’s no way you and Justice are normal. Even I know that.”

  “We’re happy. Can’t deny that.”

  “Journey and I are happy too,” I say, shrugging. “We just don’t know it.”

  “So what was that thing you didn’t want me telling Justice?”

  “See, about that. Yeah,” I say before downing the rest of the beer. “I don’t know if I’m the guy for Journey long term. Even admitting that, I don’t want her leaving me. I want to keep her for as long as I can without actually keeping her chained up somewhere. I figure that might be taking things too far.”

  I imagine Journey tied to my bed. While a sexy thought, I can also imagine her trying to kill me every time I got close enough. Even with the danger, she’d be mine, and no other man could have her. There was something downright heavenly about that thought.

  “Why wouldn’t you be that guy?”

  “She wants all that typical woman stuff like kids and family get-togethers. I can keep up the image of a normal guy when I’m at work, but I come home and just turn things off. That’s not working for Journey. How can we make it work long term?”

  “You could change.”

  “How?”

  “Just be more open. Go through the motions when need be. There are times when I’m at the clubhouse, and the guys are all telling stories about shit that happened before I was born. I nod and laugh as if I feel like I’m one of them. Sometimes, I do the same thing when Justice and her family are goofing off. I don’t know what in the hell they’re talking about since I haven’t memorized every episode of South Park.”

  “And it doesn’t feel like a lie?”

  “I guess it does a little, but I don’t give a shit. It’s what
I have to do to be part of something.”

  “I fake it when I’m at work, and I don’t want to feel the same way with Journey.”

  “Well, something’s got to give if you want to keep her.”

  Leaning against the kitchen counter, I cross my arms. “I’ve been assuming the answers would be obvious over time, but nothing ever is.”

  “Look we both know you had a shit mom. You had a no-show dad and a family that never wanted you around. You got along just fine by being you, but now you’ve got to be more to make sure Journey knows she matters. She isn’t a frilly chick, but you need to do something before it’s too late.”

  “Can we stop talking about this shit?”

  “Feelings are icky, I know,” he says, taking a plate of food and a beer before heading to the back deck.

  We eat silently for the most part. When conversation feels necessary, he talks about Felix and Matilda. I share pointless chatter about Kitty who gnaws on one of my bones. What we don’t say is I’m losing my one shot at happiness.

  30 Snake Charmers

  Journey

  Something has gone tragically wrong at our house. We have three decent, adult role models, and also Justice. Instead, the kids have chosen to emulate Poppy.

  My sister is loyal to her friends and gentle to the pets, yet she has never seen a minor nuisance she couldn’t whine into an epic meltdown. Poppy simply loves noise and drama. She feeds off the crazy, and now the kids are looking to her for hints on how to handle situations.

  So when a car turns onto our long driveway, Poppy reacts as if we’re under attack. Soon, Hal is barking, and the kids stare terrified through the blinds at the oncoming threat.

  “Could be a salesperson,” Poppy explains when I frown at her overreaction.

  “So?”

  “Those people can’t be trusted. Always up to no good, I tell ya.”

  “I can’t tell if you sound more like our witch grandmother or our hermit grandfather.”

  “How do you know they don’t sound like me?”

  Rolling my eyes, I step onto the porch and smile at Donovan parking next to my SUV. He grins back as if his unannounced appearance at my house isn’t a big damn deal. Our encounters lately are like presidential events with tons of planning and scheduling and often rescheduling. We are not impromptu people.

  “I brought you flowers,” Donovan says, climbing out of the Jeep and shaking out his long, brawny limbs as if he’s been driving for hours.

  I take the bouquet, admiring flowers I can’t identify. “What’s the occasion?”

  “I was thinking about you and figured you might like them.”

  “You were, huh?” I ask, suspicious. “What exactly were you thinking about me?”

  “That you’re great,” he says tapering off when he spots the faces staring at him from the windows. “We have an audience.”

  “My family is very close. If you think today is bad, you should see our pap smear appointments.”

  Donovan smiles, but the humor doesn’t reach his eyes. He feels on the spot. When he visited me at work, Donovan ignored the staring. For whatever reason, he’s bothered by being on display today.

  “They’re harmless,” I say, trying not to mock his uneasiness at having a few kids and one annoying teenager watch us.

  “I know,” he mutters and then says again, “I know. I’m just tired from working so much.”

  “They take advantage of your family name.”

  “I know.”

  “You know a lot of things, copper. Do you happen to know why you’re here besides to give me these flowers and a quick kiss?”

  “I wanted to see you.”

  “Here I am,” I say, placing the flowers on the hood of his Jeep before wrapping my arms around his waist. “I miss how solid you feel. Also, how your muscles flex under my fingers.”

  Donovan finally stops paying attention to the eyes gawking at him and focuses on my heated words.

  “Is it time to do the family deal?” he asks.

  “Your question can’t compute when my brain overheats from my scorching panties.”

  Donovan finally smiles for real. He studies my face and leans down for a kiss. Audience or not, he kisses me something fierce until Poppy’s voice booms from the house.

  “Knock off that indecent behavior in front of the children or I’ll get the hose!” she squawks.

  I peel myself off of Donovan and give her the evil eye. She disappears behind the blinds, likely preparing to use the smaller children as human shields.

  “I meant we could do the family meet up thing. You can meet the Mooneys, and I can spend time with your posse.”

  “Why would we want to do that?”

  “I wouldn’t mind my family knowing you’re important to me. They might be less asshole-like when it comes to scheduling shifts.”

  “Oh, well, then I agree to endure your law enforcement Rockwell family. You’ll need to agree to come here and eat barbecued meat my mother didn’t cook. I promise you won’t die of food poisoning. We don’t even let her near the Cole Slaw anymore.”

  “My family’s having a party this weekend. I have time off to go to it. We don’t have to go, but I’d like to show you off.”

  “Why wouldn’t you? I’m fricking fantastic.”

  “Don’t be nervous,” he murmurs.

  “Are you talking to yourself?”

  Donovan laughs. “Maybe. I don’t do well with my family, and your family is terrifying.”

  “I’d say they didn’t bite, but I refuse to promise good behavior from children I didn’t raise.”

  “I bet you’ll be an excellent mother.”

  “Of course, I will. I’ve been practicing since Justice was born. Before you mention her shortcomings, I didn’t raise her and take no blame for her oddities. Or hair choices.”

  “I think her hair looks cute.”

  “Cute?” I ask, annoyed by my man complimenting anyone besides me.

  “It’s a good look on a boy.”

  Laughing, I glance around in fear that Justice will somehow hear his insult. My sister would make it her life’s mission to torment Donovan. If this poor guy can’t handle my mood shifts, he’ll drown under the wild currents of Justice’s temper.

  31 Snake Charmers

  Journey

  I know the family meet-up is a big move on Donovan’s part. I also know his family will piss me off. All morning before he picks me up, I wonder if I can keep my temper in check with people I’ll likely loathe.

  Donovan says nothing for the entire drive to his cousin’s house. I hate seeing him so tense about people who ought to feel blessed to know him. He closes himself off so much before we arrive that I doubt he’d care if I set the place on fire and danced in the flames.

  His buzz cut sporting cousin Jeff lives in a big brick house in Rockwell with his well-coifed wife and three towheaded kids. Even their yellow Labrador looks recently groomed.

  “Do these people like you?” I ask Donovan as we walk into the backyard where a dozen people chat about lawns and school functions.

  “No.”

  “Good. I didn’t want them to stop liking you after today.”

  “Are you planning on being rude?” he says, sounding both horrified and excited.

  “Of course not. My rudeness comes naturally. I never need to plan.”

  Donovan smiles tightly. “I’ll fake an illness after a half hour so that we can leave.”

  “Or I can just say I want to leave in a half hour because I’m bored, and then the blame is pinned on me. Besides, I’m a big believer in honesty.”

  Smiling again, Donovan approves of my immediate disdain for his family. He doesn’t like feeling like an outsider with them while being an outsider gives me a badge of honor. To me, people who care this much about appearances are losers. If they were truly happy and successful, there’d be no need to try this fricking hard.

  Jeff and his wife, Liz, smile at me and make small talk. They approve of my job.
They’re less impressed by my zip code. Mentioning my mother’s veterinarian business makes them smile in unison. Speaking of my father instantly ends their bright grins. They’re easy to play with, so I follow up every good thing with something they won’t like.

  “My sister is the manager at the Mart in Tumbling Rock. You might remember how she testified against Becca Pamton.” Once they’re smiling, I add, “And how she married Becca’s biker baby daddy. What was Court in prison for?”

  “Selling stolen DVD players,” Jeff instantly says as if he’d been waiting all day to blurt out the charge.

  “Is that a real crime?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s a victimless crime, though.”

  “The retailer stolen from wouldn't agree.”

  “Does a retailer have actual feelings?”

  “It’s a person so yes.”

  “Weren’t they stolen from a Best Buy? Does a franchise store have actual feelings?”

  “I don’t understand your point.”

  “I didn’t think you would.”

  Laughing awkwardly, Liz asks, “How long have you two been dating?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Liz looks to Donovan, who shrugs.

  “How can you not know?”

  “I didn’t write it on the calendar,” I mutter, sipping the lemonade cocktail they’re handing out like candy, “I can’t remember the exact day we first got friendly, but I’d say it’s been a couple of weeks more or less.”

  Liz doesn’t like my answer. I should have written my first date with Donovan on my calendar and drawn a big red heart around the day. I suspect she did that with Jeff, and they turned out great so…

  “Grandfather,” Jeff announces, looking behind me. “This is Donovan’s new girl.”

  I shake the old man sheriff’s hand. He doesn’t let go quickly, and neither do I. We both squeeze harder, and I dig a bit of my thumbnail into his flesh. Finally, the tall bald fricker lets go.

  Even distracted by the handshake, I notice how Jeff emphasized the word “new” in his introduction. Yep, I’m just the latest chick in a long line of them for Donovan. Nothing special to see here.