Snake Charmer (Rawkfist MC Book 2) (10 page)

Donovan

A
rnold Mooney loves the law, thinks
Rockwell is the best town in the world, and finds Clinton County picturesque.
He values his family, covering his office walls with their pictures. My photo
must be up there with the other grandkids’, though I can never find it. Not
that I’d spent much time looking. My mother’s pictures are front and center
when I enter his office. I glance at her smiling face before sitting across
from my grandfather.

I assume he’s heard about Journey.
Considering he never calls me into his office, I figure this conversation will
be about his concerns. I’m both right and wrong. After all, Arnold Mooney isn’t
a man to discuss his feelings.

“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.

Journey

D
ays 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.

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.

Journey

U
sually, 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 warm. 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.”

Poppy looks at me and then smiles at
the cat. “Good thing her vibrator is waterproof, huh?”

My sister’s words irritate the crap out
of me. Mostly because she’s right.