Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
CALLIE
The morning air carries the scent of bacon and freshly brewed coffee as Jax’s truck rumbles to a stop in front of my parent’s house.
My stomach knots as I take in the scene.
Colorful canopies spread across the front yard, tables draped in checkered tablecloths, and what looks like half the town already mingling around steaming platters of food.
Mom’s been hosting the annual after-festival breakfast for as long as I can remember, and somehow I’d forgotten how massive it always becomes.
Every festival volunteer, every vendor, every person who helped make the summer festival happen gets invited to gorge themselves on enough food to feed a small army.
Waffles. Pancakes. Sausage. Bacon. Fruit. Eggs. All of that and more.
My chest tightens. There are so many people, and they’re all about to witness me stepping out of this truck with not one, not two, but three Williams brothers.
“Breathe, Alley cat.” Brax squeezes my hand from the back seat. “It’s breakfast.”
Just breakfast. Right. Just breakfast where everyone will see me arriving with the guys. Just breakfast where the gossip mill will start churning before I even reach the mimosa table.
Knox shifts beside me, his jaw muscles rippling. He’s not excited to be here either. “Do you want to leave? Say the word.”
The protectiveness in his voice makes my pulse skip. Part of me wants to say yes, to flee back to the safety of their cabin where the only people who matter are the four of us. But that’s the old Callie talking. The one who ran instead of facing the music.
“No.” I straighten my shoulders. “I’m tired of hiding.” Besides, Mom would be sad if I didn’t show up.
Jax kills the engine and glances over his shoulder at us. “Then let’s go show this town what they’ve been missing.”
The moment my feet hit the gravel driveway, conversations quiet.
Not completely, people are trying to be subtle about their staring, but subtle in a town like Big Ridge is like wearing white to a wedding that isn’t your own.
Heat creeps up my neck as I smooth down the dress I wore yesterday, hyperaware of Knox’s solid presence beside me and the twins flanking us.
This is one hell of a walk of shame.
Mrs. Peterson from the hardware store nearly drops her plate of fruit salad. The Miller sisters, who used to torment me in algebra class, lean in to whisper something to each other. Even old Mr. Henderson, whose lenses are thick as a brick, seems to be straining to get a better look.
Great, even the geezers want to know about my sex life.
My fight-or-flight response kicks into overdrive. Every instinct screams at me to bolt, to hide, to disappear into the crowd or better yet, back into Jax’s truck.
Knox steps closer, his shoulder brushing mine. “Ignore them.” His voice is low, meant only for me. “They’re not worth your time.”
Before I can respond, he’s already moving toward the house, that purposeful stride of his cutting through the crowd like he owns the place. Several people nod respectfully as he passes. His grumpy reputation precedes him even at breakfast gatherings. That’s why no one ever messes with him.
Maura appears from behind one of the serving tables, her blonde-gray hair caught up in a messy bun and her face lighting up like Christmas morning when she spots me and the twins.
She beelines straight for me, ignoring the whispers completely like she’s had plenty of practice, and I bet she has.
She used to be the one everyone talked about.
“You three look like you slept well together,” she says, smile turning wicked. “In the same bed.”
“No idea what you’re talking about,” Jax says.
She gives him a disbelieving once over. “Well, all I can say is it’s about damn time you all grew a pair and told Callie how you feel.” She turns to me, beaming. “Hey, sweetheart.”
“Hey, Maura.” I manage a genuine smile for the woman who’s been like a second mother to me. Of course she isn’t scandalized. Maura probably has her own menagerie of men.
She winks and hefts a tray of what looks like chocolate chip pancakes. “Your mom’s been buzzing around here like a cracked out hummingbird and your daddy’s been chasing after her. You know how she gets.”
I do know. Mom throws herself into hosting with the same intensity most people reserve for Olympic training. Mom isn’t happy unless everything is perfect and everyone is included, and my dad isn’t happy unless Mom is sitting down relaxing and letting other people do the hard work.
“Don’t let a few nosy Nancys run you off. Women own their sexuality now. We fuck who we want when we want, isn’t that right, Callie?”
“Uh, yeah,” I say, fighting a laugh. Maura talking about sex will never not be weird.
“Well then, you all come on and help.” She waves us toward the house and hustles off to deliver pancakes.
“Are we really doing this?” I whisper.
Jax steps closer, that mischievous glint in his eyes. “Fuck ’em. If they want to talk, let them talk.”
With that declaration, he swoops in and kisses me. Right there in the middle of Mom’s front yard, with half the town watching. I gasp in surprise at the boldness of it, and he pulls away with a chuckle, booping my nose.
“Jax!” But he’s already sauntering off to help carry food, leaving me standing there with my lips tingling and my cheeks burning. Jesus, that man knows how to kiss.
Brax slides his fingers through mine, interlacing them like it’s the most natural thing in the world. The simple gesture sends warmth shooting up my arm, but it also makes me acutely aware of all the attention now laser-focused on us.
They’re speculating. Remembering. Probably wondering if history is about to repeat itself, or if it has already. Wondering if I’m about to get tangled up with the Williams brothers again only to have it all blow up spectacularly.
But you know what? I think I’m done running from one of the best nights of my life.
I’m tired of being ashamed of something that felt so right, so perfect, so absolutely fucking amazing that my body still aches for more.
I can’t wait to do it again. Hell, maybe I’ll even record it and post it online.
Whoa, whoa. Okay, I’m getting ahead of myself. All I mean is that I’m embracing this. I refuse to hide it to make other people more comfortable or to avoid being the center of gossip.
Mom always says you can’t live your life based on what other people think. If they really loved you, they’d want you to be happy, no matter what that looks like.
And she’s right. If these people really cared about me—if they were truly my friends, my community—they’d be celebrating the fact that I’m here, whole and breathing and ready to rebuild my life, instead of picking apart who I choose to rebuild it with.
I squeeze Brax’s hand and lift my chin. Mom emerges from the house carrying a platter heavy enough to require its own zip code, her graying brunette hair escaping from its ponytail in the humid morning air.
Dad takes it from her, and she starts to turn to tell him off for treating her like she’s fragile but stops when she spots me.
She takes us in and then her entire face transforms. Brax and I make our way over to them.
Mom looks giddy, my dad on the other hand, he has that serious look where a hard line embeds itself right above his nose. Nerves tangle in my stomach.
“Morning, baby girl!” Mom pulls me into one of those bone-crushing hugs that only mothers can give.
I melt into her embrace, breathing in her familiar scent. All the anxiety, all the worry about what everyone else thinks melts away in my mom’s arms.
Knox and Jax finish setting things on the table and join us.
She pulls back, cupping my face in her hands.
She searches my face with that maternal intensity that sees everything.
That deep-seated fear that she’ll be ashamed of me.
“Oh, honey. I don’t care if you date one man or ten men or no men at all.
I don’t care what anybody in this town has to say about it.
All I care about is that you’re home and you’re happy. ”
Tears prick at my eyes. “Mom.”
“None of that.” She smooths her thumbs over my cheekbones. “You’ve got good men looking out for you, and that’s all that matters.” She glances at Dad. “Right, honey?”
Dad crosses his arms over his chest, eyes narrowed. “Are you boys taking care of my daughter?”
“Yes, sir,” they say all at once.
He hums. “You know I taught your daddy how to clean his guns, right?”
“Henry!” Mom scolds.
“Yes, sir.” Knox is staring at him with the utmost respect. “We won’t hurt her.”
“Again you mean,” Dad says.
Knox dips his head. “Yes, sir.”
“And you two?” Dad demands of the twins.
“Dad,” I complain, trying to save them, but Knox tugs me into his side.
“Let him have this,” he murmurs to me.
Nodding, I press my lips together and watch the interrogation play out.
“Sir, Callie has been my whole world since we were kids. If I hurt her, I’ll let you shoot me.”
“Jaxon,” Mom chastises, but my dad nods at him.
“Deal. And you, Braxton?”
Brax glances at me, a smile tugging at his lips. “Your daughter means more to me than the whole world. More to us, sir. There’s nothing we won’t do for her, and I hope we can show you that we’re serious.”
Dad sizes each of them up, eyes narrowing more on Knox, but after a moment, he relents. “If Sally Mae is okay with it, so am I, but so help me god, if you make her cry, I will make each of you eat lead.”
“Jesus, Daddy! You’re from Big Ridge, you’re not in the mafia!”
He pins me with a look. “I’ll be the mafia if they hurt you.”
My heart squeezes, and it’s hard to be mad at him when he’s protecting me. “No shooting anyone.”
“I’m not promising that.”
Mom sighs. “You’re letting the food get cold. You three understand what my husband is telling you?”
The guys nod.