Bayou Devils MC: The Complete Series

by A. M. Myers

  “How are you guys holding up?” Eden asks Teresa as we make our way down to the lake. Maybe it sounds like a weird question to ask someone on what is supposed to be the happiest day of their lives but after doing a couple of these, we figured out that weddings are as exhausting as they are exciting. Teresa beams, clasping her new husband’s hand in between both of hers as she glances up at him and he grins down at her.

  “It’s been magical.”

  More images from my past hit me in the gut as we reach the edge of the lake and I resist the urge to squeeze my eyes shut. Eden glances over at me with a concerned expression but I just shake my head. When I first met Eden in a photography class a little over six years ago, I put on one hell of a good show but I was still a shell of a person, struggling to figure out how to just be but Eden always saw through the bullshit and she never pushed me to open up before I was ready. As we both continued studying photography, our friendship grew and I spilled the truth of my ugly past to her one drunken night. She never once judged me for it and she’s never used it against me. By the time the class ended, we both knew we wanted to pursue doing photography full-time and we were practically like sisters so it only made sense for us to go into this together.

  “You okay?” she whispers under her breath and I nod my head. Eden knows how hard weddings can be for me which is why we don’t take all that many but they are good money so every once in a while, I have to bite the bullet. She sighs, her brows still knitted in concern. “I’ve got your back if you need to bounce.”

  “Thank you.”

  As she sets the wedding party up for their first photo, I stare out across the water. My issues with weddings are so layered and so complicated that I don’t even know how to begin to explain it. My own wedding day was one of the happiest days of my life and if I close my eyes, I can still see Wyatt smiling down at me as he told me that he was going to love me with his whole heart until the day he took his last breath but everything that happened after that day… I turn away from the group as I blink away tears and suck in a breath.

  “You know, I think I’m going to go get some shots of the reception while you finish this up,” I say just loud enough for Eden to hear me and she places her hand on my arm, drawing my gaze back to her as she nods.

  “Go. I got this.”

  Nodding, I mouth a thank you to her before hiking back up the hill with my camera in my hand, grateful to be away from all the love, happiness, and wedded bliss. Not that I’m bitter or anything… When I go to my appointment with Dr. Brewer next week, she’s going to be disappointed that I ran away instead of confronting my feelings in the moment and as much as she’s helped me, sometimes her advice isn’t all that practical. I mean, hell, I can’t exactly have a mental breakdown in the middle of someone’s special day. That’s just about the tackiest thing I’ve ever heard. Besides, these couples hire Eden and I to capture every moment of one of the most important days of their life, not blubber on about the mistakes I’ve made in my life.

  Once I get back up to the house, I take my time as I grab the equipment I’ll need for shooting indoors and slip in the back door, wandering around the lavish house before following the sound of music. The party isn’t really in full swing yet since everyone is still waiting for the happy couple to show up but I lift my camera to my face and snap a few photos of the flower girl, the ring bearer, and their friends dancing to the pop song playing around the ballroom before scanning the crowd and getting a great shot of the groom’s grandma laughing at something the gentleman next to her said. Sighing, I glance over at the door, guilt eating away at me that I’m not out there doing my job with Eden before shoving the feeling down and gazing around the room again. I wouldn’t mind being able to sit down for a second either. Eden and I have been here, photographing everything since noon when the bride started getting ready and my feet are starting to ache.

  “Ladies and Gentlemen, Mr. and Mrs. Stewart,” the DJ booms and everyone stands and cheers as the bride and groom walk into the room, hand in hand. I raise my camera and snap a couple of shots before feeling a nudge at my side.

  “Feeling better?” Eden asks.

  “Yeah. Get some good shots?”

  She nods, surveying the crowd. “The sunset was incredible and those little lanterns you hung in the tree worked perfectly.”

  “I can’t wait to see them,” I tell her with a smile. My stomach flips, the guilt eating away at me again. It’s really not fair to Eden that she has to take on the bulk of work sometimes because of my issues but I also don’t know what else I can do about it. She nudges me again and I glance over at her.

  “I know what that look on your face means and you need to knock that shit off right now.”

  I scowl as I turn away from her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Mmhmm. Wanna talk about it?”

  “Not particularly,” I mutter.

  “I thought maybe this wedding wouldn’t be so hard since you have James now.”

  I flinch at the mention of my boyfriend… or ex-boyfriend now, technically. “I ended things with James.”

  “Why?” She doesn’t sound all that surprised by my news and even I have to admit, I’m not even a little upset by the fact that we broke up so maybe she saw this coming before I did. I glance back at her.

  “We didn’t want the same things.”

  She arches a brow. “Which means what? That he wasn’t Wy…”

  “Don’t finish that statement,” I warn her, shaking my head. There are some things I like about Eden knowing everything about my past and then there are things that I really hate like her calling me on my shit each and every time. “He didn’t want to have kids.”

  “Oh,” she whispers. “Are you okay? With the breakup, I mean?”

  I nod. “Yeah. Honestly, I’m not even upset about it. More relieved than anything else… I don’t know. I guess I only started dating again to try and move on with my life but I’m starting to wonder if it’s a lost cause.”

  “You’re not a lost cause, Piper. Don’t talk about yourself like that.”

  “I just mean… maybe I’m not meant to have all this,” I answer, motioning to the reception surrounding us. “Maybe I had my shot at love and a family and I screwed it all up.”

  Wrapping her arm around my shoulders, she pulls me into a hug with a sigh. “People don’t just get one shot at love, babe. That I’m sure of and if you’re serious about wanting a family, you don’t need a man for that.”

  “Uh, technically you do need a man. That’s like one of the two main ingredients.”

  She laughs. “Don’t be a smart ass. You know what I meant. You could get a sperm donor and get inseminated or whatever.”

  “Do it myself? Seriously?”

  “Why not?” she answers with a shrug. “It’s two thousand nineteen and you are a strong, independent woman. If you want to have a baby, find a way to make it happen.”

  Staring out at the newly married couple as they dance, I chew on my bottom lip and raise my camera to my eye to snap a couple photos as the thoughts bounce around in my mind. Could I really do it all myself? I mean, anytime I thought about the family I wanted to have, Wyatt was always a part of that picture and no matter how hard I tried, the image never changed. That’s probably why none of my other relationships worked out - not that there were all that many - but still, there is no room in my life and my heart for anyone else because Wyatt is always there. Having a baby, though… it has always been one of my greatest dreams.

  “Just think about it, okay? Don’t sell yourself short because this is the kind of thing that you’ll come to regret if you don’t go for it.”

  Pulling the camera away from my face, I meet her eyes and nod. “Okay. I’ll think about it.”

  “That’s all I ask,” she answers, grinning at me and I snort out a laugh.

  “It’s a pretty big ask. We’re talking about a baby here and me being a single mother.”

  She shrugs. “Just ima
gine how happy you’ll be when you have that little baby in your arms.”

  “Hold up. I thought I was just thinking about it and now I’m picturing my fictional future baby?”

  Looping her arm through mine, she guides me to the corner of the ballroom where we can stay out of the way while we talk and snap candid photos. “Yes. Visualization is an essential part of destiny manifestation.”

  “I said I’ll think about it, Edie. Don’t push your luck.”

  “Okay, fine.” She laughs. “But in all seriousness, I don’t want you to think you’re doing this alone. If you decide to go down this road, you’ll have Lillian and me in your corner. Always.”

  I nod, my chest aching at the thought of having a baby on my own. Not because I think I couldn’t do it or because I know it will be hard but because anytime I ever pictured my baby in the past, he always had Wyatt’s hazel eyes and I’m not sure if that is an image I can let go of.

  Chapter Three

  Wyatt

  “How many?” the cute blonde hostess asks as Smith and I walk into the homey little Italian restaurant that our client’s father owns and I hold up two fingers as I scan what I can see of the dining room. She grabs the menus and instructs us to follow her as she turns and walks further into the restaurant. After leading us to a table situated along the front windows that gives us a perfect view into the bustling kitchen, I flash her a smile of thanks as I slide into my seat and Smith sits across from me. She briefly runs over the day’s specials as she lays our menus in front of us.

  “Can I get you two started with a drink? A beer, maybe?”

  I shake my head. “Just water.”

  “I’ll take a beer,” Smith answers and she nods.

  “Okay. I’ll be right back with those and your waitress will be with you in just a moment.”

  As she turns and leaves, I scan the dining room, searching for the subject of our investigation but he is nowhere to be found. Sighing, I turn toward my menu and flip it open. When our client, Marina, came to us a couple weeks ago to ask for our help, she told us that her father has owned this restaurant for damn near forty years but as he got older, it was harder for him to keep up so he took on a partner to ease the workload. The only problem is, Marina has been hearing from the other staff that the partner, Ben, is a sleaze ball and running this place into the ground but she needs rock solid proof to try and force Ben out which is where we come in.

  “I’ll tell ya, brother,” Smith says, engrossed in his menu. “I’ve definitely been on worse stakeouts.”

  I snort out a half laugh. “Yeah, I suppose.”

  “What’s your deal lately?” he asks, glancing up from his menu with a knitted brow. I shake my head.

  “I don’t have a deal.”

  “Bullshit. I mean, you’re usually pretty serious but you’re not this damn grouchy. What the hell is going on?”

  I run my hand through my hair. “Just worried about the club and the girls.”

  “Ah,” he whispers, nodding his head before he turns to look out at the dining room. “I don’t know, man. I don’t want to believe that you’re right but I’m not ready to proclaim that you’re wrong either. Plus, that shit you said at church about it being someone we love next, well… I can’t get that shit out of my head and with Quinn pregnant…”

  “I never got a chance to say congratulations, by the way.”

  He nods, studying me. “Yeah, you bailed pretty quick after my announcement…”

  “Yeah, I did.”

  “That’s all I’m going to get?” he asks, irritation creeping into his tone. “I mean, you know that I know that it’s bullshit, right?”

  I arch a brow. “That your new favorite word?”

  “Bullshit?” he questions and I nod. “Only when I smell the overwhelming scent of bullshit like right now.”

  “You can’t smell anything but lasagna and garlic bread.”

  His stomach growls and his gaze flicks to the kitchen before he turns back to me. “I really wish I could smell that cause it sounds amazing but I’m like drowning in bullshit right now so…”

  “Jesus Christ, you’re not going to stop, are you?”

  Grinning, he shakes his head. “Nope.”

  “Fine,” I growl before my body deflates and I sigh. “I’ve just been thinking a lot lately with all of you settling down and starting families.”

  “You want the same?”

  I nod. “Yeah, I do.”

  “So, do it. What the hell is holding you back?”

  An image of Piper pops into my mind, her smokey green eyes boring into mine and asking me the same damn question.

  “Shit…” Smith breathes and I meet his gaze as he looks up at me. “What’s her name?”

  “What?”

  He rolls his eyes. “Oh, don’t give me that, Fuzz. Your fucking face says it all. There’s a woman and she’s got you by the balls.”

  “No, she doesn’t.”

  “Yeah, okay,” he murmurs, flashing me a look that makes it clear he doesn’t believe a word coming out of my mouth. “You know what… I’m picking up on that scent again.”

  “Fuck off,” I grumble as a petite little thing stops by our table with a pen and pad in her hand.

  “Hey, boys. I’m Kenzie and I’ll be your waitress today. What can I get you to drink?”

  “Uh,” I mutter, glancing back at the hostess who is playing on her phone by the front door. “We ordered a water and a beer already.”

  She follows my gaze and whispers a curse. “I’m so sorry. I’ll be right back with those, okay?”

  “Sure.”

  As she stomps off, I turn back to Smith who flashes me an expectant look. “So, what’s her name?”

  “Go fuck yourself, that’s her name. Why don’t you focus less on me and more on the case?”

  “The way I see it,” he replies, leaning back in his chair. “I can do both. Now, what’s her name?”

  “Anyone ever tell you that you’re a goddamn pain in the ass?” I ask and he laughs.

  “Yeah, it’s part of my appeal.”

  I shake my head. “I doubt it.”

  “Name, please,” he repeats with a shrug and my irritation grows. It’s clear that he is not going to let this go and I would much rather get it out there and move on with my damn life.

  “For fuck’s sake. It’s Piper, my ex-wife.”

  “Oh,” he whispers, nodding. “The one who cheated on you when you were deployed and then left you?”

  Gritting my teeth, I nod. “That’s the one.”

  “Hold up,” he demands, holding his hand up in front of him. “Why the hell does your ex-wife still have you by the balls?”

  “Just forget about it, Smith.”

  He studies me for a second before his eyes widen. “Are you still in love with her?”

  “Absolutely fucking not,” I snap as the waitress stops at our table with our drinks and I am thankful for the interruption.

  “Here you guys go. I’m so sorry about the mix-up. Who had the beer?”

  Smith raises his hand and she sets the bottle down in front of him before setting my glass of water on the table by me and wiping her hands on her apron. She pulls the pen and pad out again and flashes us a bright smile.

  “Okay. Y’all know what you want to order?”

  Smith nods. “Yeah, I’ll get the lasagna.”

  “Okay,” she answers, scribbling his order down before turning to me. “And you, sir?”

  “Chicken Alfredo.”

  Smiling, she writes my order down on her notepad before scooping up our menus and turning toward the kitchen. When I turn back to Smith, he looks like he wants to delve deeper into our conversation but I shoot him a warning look and he rolls his eyes as he pulls his phone out of his pocket. Relieved, I scan the dining room again, searching for our subject as I try to push thoughts of my least favorite person in the world out of my mind but even after all these years, she’s fucking relentless. Like a parasite that no amount of
medicine can kill.

  “So…” Smith starts and I shake my head, flashing him a look that makes it clear I’m done talking about this. He sighs as he leans back in his chair. “Dude, come on. How long has it been since she left?”

  “This conversation is over.” I don’t want to think about how long it’s been since Piper destroyed everything we had and walked away from me or how empty my life has felt in the years since. She doesn’t matter to me anymore. Someone walks out of the kitchen and I glance over before nudging Smith’s foot with mine. “Look who finally decided to show up.”

  Ben Girouard walks toward the register and smacks our waitress on the ass as he passes by her. Hatred burns in her eyes as she glares at him and I shake my head.

  “What a pig,” Smith growls and I nod.

  “I know but we need something concrete.”

  Smith nods and pulls his phone out of his pocket, pretending to be playing a game as he begins recording Ben. We both watch him as he strolls right up to the register and opens it before pulling a couple of twenties out and shoving them in his pocket.

  “Did Marina say anything about missing money?” Smith asks and I shake my head, disgust twisting my stomach as Ben shuts the register and starts walking toward the hostess who seated us.

  “No, but she may not know.”

  He nods. “We need to get Streak to dig into the restaurant’s finances.”

  “Not that there will be much to dig into,” I reply, scanning the almost empty dining room. “My parents used to come here for their anniversary every year and they had to make a reservation like a month in advance. They said it had gone downhill but I didn’t realize it was this bad.”

  The waitress walks out of the kitchen with a tray in her hand and Smith sits forward, tucking his phone away.