Roughneck: A Payne Brothers Romance

by Frost, Sosie

  “But you’re still doing it.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why?”

  I figured it’d be obvious, but Honey didn’t know me from before. It was the only reason she was sitting in my living room in the middle of the night.

  “Because it was time to change,” I said.

  “Any particular reason?”

  I tensed. “You ask a lot of fucking questions.”

  “But they should be easy answers.”

  Honey usually gave me a pounding headache—most likely because my blood pooled a hell of a lot lower around her. She wanted answers. I wanted the torture to stop.

  “Everyone in my family is getting married, having babies, starting their lives,” I said. “I don’t want to be left out in the cold.”

  Or in the ground.

  Honey smiled. Leaned closer. Fucking enjoyed the conversation. “So…you’re doing it for them?”

  “I’m doing it so their perfect fucking lives aren’t interrupted by my funeral. I’m not gonna be their source of unhappiness now, not when they’ve finally got everything they wanted.”

  Honey flinched at the profanity, but she wasn’t deterred. “I think that’s really sweet.”

  “No one ever accused me of being sweet.”

  Honey wore it like a badge of honor. “Well, Tidus Payne, I think you’re sweet.”

  “And I think you’re delusional.”

  “I also think you’re kinder than you’d like to admit.”

  “Sure you aren’t drunk?”

  She ignored me. “You care about your family. You care about yourself. And what you’re doing to get better…it really is admirable.”

  And I hated every compliment. “Now you’re a motivational speaker and chef? You’re like the anti-Gordan Ramsey.”

  “Well, I mean every word of it,” she said. “You were a really big help at the church picnic today. I couldn’t have done it without you—well, before it all went to hell.”

  “I got in your way.”

  “Sometimes tripping over someone else can be nice.”

  “If you think that’s fun, I bet you’d love crawling all over me. Under me. Hell, if you want to give it a try, you’d really like bouncing on me.”

  Honey wasn’t a girl who backed away from a challenge—even after nine inches of intimidation.

  “You probably earned it, bad boy,” she said. “I did promise to do whatever you wanted.”

  “And I told you—deal’s off.”

  “That wouldn’t be very sporting of me.”

  “Forget it.”

  Was it me, or did her lip pout with disappointment? “I’m a woman of my word.”

  “And I’m a man who’d prefer a woman who wants his cock, not one indebted to it.”

  “How about…embedded on it?”

  “You’re cute when you play dirty,” I said.

  “And you’re wonderful when you play hero.”

  And that was the exact reason I shouldn’t have allowed her in my apartment.

  Honey deserved a hell of a lot better than me. It was one thing when she just wanted to get off by fucking a bad boy, but it was downright dangerous for her to fall for a man who didn’t exist.

  Whatever image she had of me was a figment in her imagination. I didn’t know what she saw in me, but it wasn’t the truth. It wasn’t the real Tidus Payne.

  And for as much as I longed to be that man—one she admired, teased, and desired—it wasn’t fair to her. I didn’t recognize myself anymore, especially after losing so much so long ago. Drowned in booze. Poisoned by drugs. I had no idea who I’d become or what was even left.

  But she was right about one thing. I could be kind.

  And the kindest thing I could do would be kicking her out of my apartment.

  “Why don’t you get out of here?” I gestured to the door. “It’s late.”

  She nestled deeper into the couch. “You sound so sad.”

  I should’ve tossed her over my shoulder and hauled her outside.

  But why hide it? I was sad. And the goddamned truth of it was sadder.

  I liked having her there. I’d never heard such gentleness in a voice, and it’d been too long since I had a warm body next to me without expectation, without judgment.

  Her simple presence was greater than any high.

  “Aren’t you tired?” I asked. “Had a long day.”

  She shrugged. “I’ll be fine—but I’m worried about you. Are you thinking about what the Widow Barlow said to you today?”

  I snorted. “Agatha Barlow has said a hell of a lot worse about me. Nothing unusual. The Barlows and Paynes don’t get along.”

  “What about the Barlows and Spencer?”

  Suddenly, the sparkling water tasted a lot like dirt. “Who the fuck cares what they think?”

  “Seems like you do.”

  “You’re wrong.”

  Even she didn’t believe that. “Don’t let that lady get to you. You’re on the right path. All you need is a little support. Don’t let some old bat trip you up.”

  “I told you—I don’t give a damn about her. She believes the same thing everyone else believes. They think I’m a bad influence on Spence.”

  “You did take him to play ball instead of punishing him for all the pranks.”

  I sighed. “Spence knew he was going to get punished. Hell, he was expecting it. It’s why he pulled the pranks. When I was a kid, I did the same shit. Sometimes the wrong attention is better than no attention at all.”

  “But will he learn his lesson?”

  If he was like me, not until it was too late. “I took him to play ball because he needed to be punished, but he needed to talk more. He had to find someone who understood why he wanted to ruin everyone else’s day. He only fights because he thinks no one is listening. Once he realizes people care, once he realizes how much he hurts the only family he has in his corner? He’ll shape up.”

  Honey didn’t understand. Didn’t expect her to. “You must really love that kid.”

  Someone had to. “I look at him, and I see myself as a boy—except, when I was his age, I walked around with black eyes and more bruises. Spence is making it through relatively unscathed.” I paused. “Not that it matters. He’s on the same path. Getting into trouble, pulling all those pranks. Couple more years, and it’ll be the drugs, alcohol, and crime. Then we really will be the same pieces of shit.”

  “Do you really think you’re that type of man?”

  She already knew the answer.

  “Doesn’t matter what I think,” I said. “It’s what everyone else thinks. They know I’m no good, but they assume I’ll lure Spencer into the same life.” A bitterness crept into my voice. “They’re wrong. I’m the only one who can help him.”

  “How?”

  “By showing him what I’ve become.”

  I could see her heart breaking. That flinch. The troubled crease in her brow. Her finger at her lips, nibbling on the edge of her nail.

  I hated it.

  Who the hell was she to assume I was worth her pity? Who was she to believe she could understand me? Who was she to worry about me, where I went at night, what I did during the day?

  Who was she to be so fucking compassionate that I would have torn out my once-poisoned veins to prove to her how much I had really changed?

  Honey didn’t know the old me. The real me. She’d met a ghost of a man, someone who had no fucking idea what he was doing while sober, alone, and struggling through a world that no longer wanted to help him.

  Why the fuck did I tell her the truth?

  And why did I want nothing more than to hear her warm, sunshine voice whisper my name?

  “Look at me.” I held my arms out. “What you see now is tame. Sobriety is a bitch, but it helped me see things clearly.”

  She picked at a loose thread on my couch, picking it apart with the same dexterity she used to ruin me.

  “You couldn’t have been that bad,” she said.

 
; “I was worse.”

  “What happened?”

  It was a simple question. A dangerous question.

  “You had a good family,” she said. “You had the farm, your siblings, the same chances as them. What made you go bad?”

  “A lot of fucking things. Most of my family doesn’t even know.”

  “Like what?”

  Did she think she was owed an answer, or was it a chance to unburden my soul? Didn’t matter. I wasn’t upsetting her with the truth. Someone that beautiful, that pure, didn’t need to know.

  Honey was my one source of happiness in a world infected by misery.

  “Go home, Honey Hudson.”

  She didn’t move. “You said you’d always tell me the truth. That you would never lie to me.”

  “Sometimes, a guy likes a girl so much, he’d rather lie.”

  “And sometimes, a girl likes a guy so much, she allows him to tell the truth.”

  Honey took my hand in hers. Christ, I hated that. Hated how her beautifully dark, soft fingers cradled my calloused, grease-stained palms.

  The old Tidus would have thought such a touch made a person weak. But Honey’s strength was forged through absolute, irreproachable kindness.

  “I don’t know how to explain it,” I said.

  She squeezed my hand when I didn’t react. “So…start at the beginning.”

  At what beginning? I didn’t wake up one morning and decide to ruin my fucking life. It just happened. Chiseled away any opportunities and luck one drink at a time. None of it was pretty. None of it should have been spoken aloud.

  But if Honey hadn’t run yet, maybe the truth was just the kick in the ass she needed to get far away from the one man capable of destroying her life.

  “Christ,” I hissed. “What the hell do you want to know? Want to know that my dad used me as his punching bag? That most of the time I deserved it, but other times I never saw it coming?”

  “Oh…” Honey whispered. “I’m so sorry, Tidus.”

  I wasn’t. “When I was a kid, I couldn’t fight back. By the time I grew up, Dad was already sick. Congestive heart failure. Revenge didn’t seem as sweet then.”

  Honey was nothing if not genuine, but I didn’t want her sympathy. “I didn’t know your father was abusive. No one in town talks about it.”

  “They wouldn’t know,” I said. “He only beat on me.”

  “…Why?”

  She didn’t need the details.

  “I was the easiest target. Not like he’d go after Julian. Jules was his favorite. The eldest son. The star athlete. My parents knew from the time he was six that he’d make it big one day, and they pinned all their hopes and dreams on him. Jules could do no wrong.”

  “Did he know it was happening?”

  “Maybe. Probably not. Didn’t have time. Had too many workouts and training camps and football programs. Wasn’t ever home.” I shrugged. “Marius might have seen it, but he was fucked up anyway. He’s only eighteen months younger than Jules. Just close enough to be constantly measured against the golden boy. But Marius has always been a tough son of a bitch. Kept out of the way once he realized he wasn’t gonna get that pat on the shoulder from Dad. Joined the Navy and stayed in the SEALs until he got blown up.”

  Honey frowned. “He wasn’t happy either?”

  “Who cares. He’s happy now.” I stared at the silver can on the coffee table, wishing it had something stronger inside. “Same as Varius. He had a goddamned halo over his head from the instant he was born. No one ever had a problem with V. He’s just got that sort of soul.” I snorted. “Then came me. Safe to say I wasn’t wanted.”

  “Tidus—”

  “Quint came years later. They adopted Cassi around the same time. He’s the baby. She’s the only girl. You can imagine how they got treated. Dad wasn’t gonna fuck with them. That left me.”

  Honey nodded. “Was there any other reason?”

  My voice hardened. “What reason is there for abusing a kid?”

  “I don’t know. I’m not sure how someone can hate another person that much.”

  Easy.

  Because it wasn’t me that Dad hated.

  “Most of the time I deserved it—acted out, got my ass beat. Pranks at first. Then the smoking. Drinking. Drugs and vandalism came later. It wasn’t really bad until…”

  “Until?”

  “Until I burned down the barn.” Still couldn’t get the charred scent of wood out of my head. “All it took was one cigarette butt. The hay was dry enough and the wood so goddamned old it torched the barn in seconds. I was lucky I got out before it collapsed.”

  “I’m glad you did,” she said.

  I wasn’t so sure. “Rem was there. He tried to help me. Saw the problems, the addictions, all the bullshit ruining both of our lives. He didn’t even ask me, just claimed responsibility and left town.”

  “Why?”

  My stomach curdled. “Because losing the barn destroyed the family. Times were tough, both Mom and Dad were in bad health. We knew the instant the barn caught that the farm couldn’t survive it. So, Rem did the selfless thing. He took the blame and sacrificed his life in Butterpond to give me a second chance—the opportunity to turn my life around.”

  Honey hesitated. “So, what happened?”

  I stared ahead, ignoring the warmth of her hand. “I fucked it up. Didn’t realize the gift he gave me. I kept going down the same path and never looked back.”

  Honey shifted closer, nudging me with an elbow. “But look at the path you’re on now.”

  “Yeah. I’m in the weeds without any weed.”

  She huffed. “Those demons are in the past. You don’t have to worry about your dad, the drugs, the drinking anymore. You’ve conquered it.” She forced me to look into those brown, baby-bunny eyes. A man could get lost in that softness. “Forget the Tidus of the past. Now, you’re the man who helped me all day serve barbeque at a church picnic. You’re the one who helped a little boy realize he wasn’t alone in the world. You’re the one downing three cans of La Croix because you’re worried about what some old biddy said. I think you’re pretty amazing.”

  “I’m not.”

  Even her frustration was a sweet, breathy sigh. “I’m not sure what it will take to convince you…but I can help you, if you let me.”

  A woman like her should never have helped a man like me.

  I pulled my hands away from her. “Fuck me, Honey. Why are you really here?”

  She didn’t flinch. “I wanted to apologize.”

  “What the hell do you have to apologize for?”

  “Everything!” She met my gaze. “I’m sorry I had the wrong impression of you. I’m sorry that I hurt your feelings. I’m sorry that I thought I could use you for some meaningless fling.”

  “You’re sorry that I almost fucked you.”

  “Yes.” Honey frowned. “I mean, no! That’s not what I meant.”

  “I think you should leave.”

  I stood, but Honey didn’t let me escape. Worse, reached for me. I stiffened as her hands traced over my shirt, across my shoulder, to my cheek.

  “Tidus, I don’t want you to fuck me,” she said.

  That was the sort of blow whiskey would’ve dulled. “Fair enough.”

  “I want you to make love to me.”

  Her words would’ve made even the drunkest man turn sober.

  “What?”

  Honey smiled. “Make love to me.”

  I didn’t often get scared, but this woman terrified me.

  I only had two modes—drinking and fucking. Anything between was simply a means to either end. Certainly nothing I should’ve inflicted upon a woman as beautiful, kind, and sensual as Honey.

  The words rasped from my throat. “I…don’t know how to make love.”

  Honey kissed me so tenderly it hurt.

  “I don’t know either.” Her giggle would be the end of me. “Why don’t we learn together?”

  10

  Honey

&
nbsp; I feared Tidus would refuse me again.

  But I didn’t have to ask this man twice.

  With a growl, he captured me tight in his arms. His kiss battled my own. First, a punishment for my attention, my affection. Then a plea for acceptance so desperate, so pained, I could only part my lips and offer everything to a man who had never felt such simple comforts.

  I could give that precious peace to him. Through kisses. With touches. By granting him every permission to strip himself of clothes and attitude, guarded defenses and masking tattoos. With me, he could bare his soul.

  Because I’d already seen it. I knew the goodness there.

  And I’d prove it to him.

  This man deserved more than a quick, dirty fuck in a grimy garage. All he needed was a guide—someone to promise him every relief he’d denied himself. He was a man who had never once felt a tender touch, heard a playful whisper, or taken a woman who offered herself in exchange for absolute honesty.

  But he’d changed so much—adapted and sacrificed and punished himself for his past misdeeds and problems. Someone had to prove that the pain was worth it.

  That he was worth it.

  Tidus seized me, and his hands roamed over my curves, squeezing my hips, holding me close as if I’d squirm away from his kiss. Instead, I held him as tightly as he grasped me. One touch, and I was lost. I whimpered as his tongue brushed over mine.

  He’d done far worse—far dirtier things to me—and yet that flick of a tongue was every scintillating shiver I’d imagined since our first encounter. Our bodies pressed tight, and my hips bucked into his. No sense denying it.

  Not when he wanted me just as much.

  Tidus didn’t have to speak a word. He reached down and swept me into his arms.

  God, he was strong, especially when he was determined to steal me away to his bedroom, throw me onto his bed, and take every pleasure I’d promised him.

  The bed bounced under me, but I shook my head.

  “Oh no…” I teased him with a sly smile. “I’ve already had my turn.”

  Tidus growled, his voice low and impatient. “Had no idea we were keeping score.”

  He’d already delighted me once. Laid me back, spread my legs, and delivered me to a pleasure that was wrong for me to enjoy.