Chapter 16 #2
Ez pouts. “That’s just about the meanest thing anyone’s ever done to me.
Do you honestly find it acceptable to threaten my stepmother’s life, only to take it back when the going gets tough?
It’s hateful, Johnny. It’s like you’re setting me up just to knock me down emotionally.
I should fuck your brother just to get back at you.
” He shakes his head. “Better yet, I should rail you with my donkey dick again. Make you cry real hard. It’s gonna split you open, stem to sternum.
” He licks his pretty, pink lips. “I’ll make you cum so fucking good, Johnny, you don’t even know. ”
“You’re never fucking my brother. Ever. As for your monster cock, it’s a whopping four fuckin’ inches.
And I never offered to kill your fuckin’ stepmomma,” I argue, my voice a little louder than it ought to be.
Then it happens. There’s a twinkle in his eye.
It’s faint, but it’s there. His lip curls up. “Are you fuckin’ with me right now?”
“Maybe,” he says, kissing my cheek, then holds his arms out for Bubba.
Bubba takes him off my back and places him on his hip.
“Maybe not. Fuck me later and find out.” He kisses the corner of my mouth, then whispers into my ear, “If you ever demean my monster cock again, I’ll fuck your brother just to prove a point.
” He mean-mugs me like I just fucked his best friend or something, but the look doesn’t last long, quickly morphing into a shit-eating grin.
“Just kidding. You and Bubba are it for me.” He kisses my cheek. “It seems I’m rather smitten.”
“I don’t know what that word means,” I tell him. “But It sounds like a good thing.”
“It is,” he assures me. “It definitely is.”
My cock twitches, and Bubba’s dick is rising just as steadily. I can’t let Momma wake up and find us this way, so I nod toward the door. “Bubba, take our boy upstairs and get dressed.”
“What about you?” Bubba asks.
“I’m going to grab my coveralls. They’re still in my truck from work.” I normally strip out of them the second we leave the shop, because it’s hot as fuck in there, and our coveralls are like insulation, trapping the warmth inside.
They head inside, and Ezra’s eyes are locked on me as Bubba carries him inside.
Jesus. The look he’s giving me is everything.
If I could bottle it, I would. If we could mass-produce the level of fondness he’s giving me right now, the world would enter a golden age where nothing bad ever happens, and love is all we know.
I know I can’t do that, and part of me is happy, because for as long as he’ll have us, that look—the one that looks an awful lot like love—belongs only to us.
The three of us. I wouldn’t want to share it with anyone, and maybe that’s a little bit selfish, but I don’t really give a fuck.
What we shared in our bedroom earlier was the best moment of my life.
Now I get to experience that every single night.
I don’t know if I’ve ever been happier, or if I’ve wanted anything more.
Once they’re inside, I walk to my pickup truck and grab my coveralls. I step into them and pull the zipper halfway up before making my way to Pete’s truck, a few feet away.
Time has been kind to Momma. Her red hair is holding strong, not a single strand of gray in sight. There’s not a stitch of makeup on her face, but she still looks more beautiful than half the ladies on television. Maybe I’m biased, but she’s just as beautiful now as she’s ever been.
I knock my knuckles against the window, and she blinks her eyes slowly a few times until she spots me. “Hey, Momma.”
She presses her hand against the window, and I place mine on the other side. My fingers are a little longer than hers, but other than that, we’re a perfect match.
“Hey, sugar,” she says. I open the door and help her out, and once she’s standing, I pull her in for a bear hug, just the way she likes.
Her hold on me remains strong, like she’s scared if one of us lets go, the other will disappear.
I’m tired of us constantly disappearing from each other’s lives.
Year after year, I lose precious time with them, but by staying away, I get to be with my best friend.
My boyfriend, I guess. It’s still weird to think of Bubba as my boyfriend, because he’s the same old Bubba he’s always been.
Nothing has changed between us, but somehow, everything has.
My life has been flipped upside down, like Will Smith when he went to live with his aunt and uncle on that show.
Bubba used to watch it all the time, and my eyes would constantly gravitate toward the guy’s ass.
I didn’t understand it then, but I understand it now, the way I can understand so many things now. Hindsight is a son of a bitch.
“Momma. There’s something I need to tell you.”
Her arms fall from around me, so I follow suit, and when she takes a step back, she cocks her head to the side and stares at me the same way she used to when I would lie to her about why my showers lasted so long.
“I’m listening.”
“You remember Bubba, don’t you?”
She stares at me like I’m stupid. “Sugar, you bring him with you every time you come to visit. Of course, I know him. He’s just about the best dang yodeler I’ve ever heard. He can work miracles with that throat of his.”
I swallow. “Yeah. His throat is pretty great.” I don’t tell her the way I know his throat is great, but she doesn’t ask, neither, so I think we’re in the clear. “The thing is—”
She holds a hand up. “Honey, as much as I’d love to hear whatever it is you’re trying to tell me, we’ve been in the truck for hours, and your brother kept giving me these little canned drinks. He called them monsters, but they tasted like battery acid.”
My eyes widen. “How many did you drink?”
She pauses, mentally counting, probably. “Seven.”
“Son of a—Why did you keep drinking them if you thought they taste like battery acid?”
“I didn’t say I didn’t like it, I said that’s what the flavor was. Goodness. It’s like all common sense left you when you left Dunsberry.” She leans in and kisses my forehead. “Gosh, I missed you. Not as much as I miss having an empty bladder, though.” She arches an eyebrow.
I snicker. “We’ve got a bathroom upstairs. I’d say you could use the one downstairs, but that’s the one Dallas uses, and he’s dirty as hell.” I take her hand and walk her toward the cabin, but she stops just shy of the porch. I turn to look back, and she’s got this look of wonder in her eyes.
“What in the world? Is that a mobile home?”
I nod proudly. “Yes, ma’am. Bubba built it for us. Well, he put the trailer on top of the cabin. He didn’t build either of them.”
“Well, regardless of who built what, it’s beautiful, baby.”
“You think so?”
“Absolutely. Look at that craftsmanship. How on earth did he get it to stay up there?”
I shrug. “He sawed off the top of that tree and used it as a load-bearing column. I ain’t sure how safe it is, but we ain’t fell from the sky yet.” I point up at the window at the end. “That’s where Dallas and his stepson sleep. Bubba, Ezra, and I share the one on the other end.”
She furrows her brows. “All that space, and you’re still having to share a room?
” A sad frown settles on her face. “I wish I could’ve given you your own room when you were little.
I wish I could have given you a lot of things.
” She takes my hand and gives it a squeeze.
“You deserved so much more than what we had. All my boys do, but especially you.”
“Why me, especially?”
“Because you’re my baby,” she answers, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
I’m starting to worry she may be suffering from memory loss, because out of all the things she knows about me, I’d expect her to remember I’m her oldest kid.
She chuckles. “You don’t have to be the youngest to be my baby.
” I guess she can still read me like a book.
“Does that mean I’m your favorite?” I ask.
She’s never outright said it, but I’m pretty sure it’s true.
Maybe it’s down to my being the prodigal son, or maybe we’ve always had a special bond, but each time I came home, whether to visit, or under the belief I was moving home, only to skip town a few weeks later, I felt it.
Growing up, I felt it too, but it was different then.
She would always give me the biggest slice of cake.
I’d always have first dibs on Daddy’s hand-me-down clothes too.
She never made a big deal about it, and she didn’t act like I was some golden child in front of my brothers, but we had a special bond.
Much gentler than her bond with Pete or Barrett.
While they were mud-wrestling out back, I’d be inside, clinging to her coattails, soaking up all her wisdom like a sponge.
“I never said that,” she says coyly.
“Sometimes saying nothing is the same as saying everything.”
She winks at me and taps the side of her nose like we’re sharing some well-guarded secret. She whirls on her heel and heads in.
When we make it inside, I have to do a double take, because Pete is sitting on the sofa, fully naked, holding an equally naked Jaden in his arms. Ezra is on the other side of the sofa, looking completely disgusted.
Pete stares at the television in wonder, the same way I stared at those DVDs at Walmart when I moved to Texas.
I don’t know what the hell Jaden has playing on our flatscreen, but whatever it is makes Pete’s eyes bulge halfway out his head.
“This is the best part. Wait for it …” Jay lifts his index finger toward the ceiling before dipping it downward like a falling nuclear bomb. “And boom goes the dynamite.” Pete sucks in a sharp breath, and when I look at the television set, I see why.
“Holy shit,” I whisper.
“Mother of God,” Ez says.