DUKE MCGRAW, AKA NOT IN THE MARKET FOR MISS RIGHT
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My family is cursed. So says my mom, anyway. Her proof is how she never found love despite marrying three times. My brother fell for a woman’s great tits while she loved his stuffed wallet. Love wasn’t in the equation.
My own marriage was arranged with the daughter of a wealthy man. I was eighteen and looking to finance my motorcycle club. Kerrie wanted to please her father so he’d leave her a decent inheritance.
Our marriage was pleasant. We were friends who made two daughters together. I’ll always care for Kerrie. Yet, when she found someone else and our marriage ended, I only shrugged.
I’ve chosen to pretend I don’t believe in the McGraw family curse. How can I tell my daughters they’ll never experience a great love? My mom has never had any problem voicing the truth, though.
“Because my great-grandmother was a slut, you will never fall in love,” Erin told my girls when they were young and impressionable.
“Why can’t you just let them dream?” I asked my mom later.
“Because unattainable dreams ruin people. Why do you think your brother has fallen so hard for a woman he doesn’t even like? He never accepted how love wasn’t real for our family. Now, he’s made himself into a fool.”
My brother Dallas and his troublemaking wife live in Florida now. They send photos often, always revealing their deep tans and humidity-drenched hair.
“Never let that happen to me,” Lola insists every time we get a new photo of my brother on his boat or at a swamp party. “I can’t be that stupid. I couldn’t live with the shame.”
My oldest daughter would have made a great club president. The Blood-Red Suns were a dream I turned into a reality. Though I’ve loved my life as club president, I’ve lately been hit with the cold reality that I have no one to take over when I’m dead or too old to lead.
My club is filled with rowdy young men. None of them have any sense for business or strategy. My daughters are smarter on their worst days than the eight members of my club on their best. There used to be more local Suns, but ten went south with Dallas. My brother nursed dreams of living in paradise. Somehow, that translated to Florida.
For more than twenty years, I’ve lived and worked in Basin Rock, West Virginia without fearing the Charleston motorcycle club might start shit here. Even after they became more militant, the Charleston assholes stuck to their territory and I kept my people out of theirs.
Now, I suspect the Charleston club has its eye on claiming territory belonging to smaller clubs like the Blood-Red Suns and Rawkfist in nearby Tumbling Rock.
I refuse to play nice with the assholes from Charleston. Once they take a little, those crazy fucks will destroy everything good about my world.
No matter my big talk, I feared the future for the first time. If the Charleston club killed me, there would be no one left to protect my family, club, or town. I have no natural VP within the club. Dallas is happy in Florida, and I prefer him in another state. None of my guys are smart or commanding enough to take over if I’m gone.
This reality sent me spiraling. My “heart attack” turned out to be a panic attack. I felt my world coming to an end. I would die and leave my daughters vulnerable to the desires of evil men. Why hadn’t I been planning for these threats long ago?
After my panic attack, Lola and I decided our best option was to align with the Rawkfist Motorcycle Club. Their crew was well-established with smart men at the top. Court Bayer, Donovan Mooney, and Emmett Mercer also had sons ready to take over in the future. An heir is what I lacked.
Yet, I have two beautiful daughters. With our family’s curse in mind, Lola offered to marry a member of the Rawkfist club. I agreed out of desperation and contacted the Rawkfist club.
At a meeting in my Irish pub-inspired clubhouse, Emmett Mercer’s younger son instantly offers to marry Lola and shadow me for a few years as my VP.
On paper, Val Mercer makes sense. His older brother West will become president of the Rawkfist club one day. The Blood-Red Suns would be safer if its next president had ties with the people in charge in Tumbling Rock. Val’s not a bad-looking guy, either. Lola wouldn’t be stuck with a toad.
Yet, I can’t stand the dumbass! Val’s mouthy and hyper like Erin’s old Jack Russell Terrier. He also has a history with Lola, and they’ve gotten off to a testy start. I feel like everything’s unraveling.
“Maybe we should close up shop in Basin Rock and head somewhere else,” I blurt out to my younger daughter, Clover.
“No.”
“We might not be safe here.”
Clover looks at me with the pretty green eyes she inherited from Kerrie. Both of my daughters are beautiful. Lola always knew how to benefit from her good looks. Clover was more awkward, falling back on her tomboy status to keep boys from bothering her.
If that didn’t work, she’d sic the club on them. More than once, I’ve sent a handful of my guys to hassle a troublemaker. If the problem remained, I’d make a personal appearance. I might be in my early forties, but I can still beat the shit out of any little turds sniffing around my daughters.
Not Val, though. The asshole will one day run my club. He’ll share a bed with my daughter. My grandkids will call him dad. The man’s tentacles are already wrapping around my life.
That’s why the engagement party will be at his family’s homestead. The gated acreage is filled with prefab homes for the extended Bayer-Mooney-Mercer-Sheerer-Earlham family.
I’ve never paid much attention to the goings-on in Tumbling Rock. A while back, Val’s younger sister hooked up with one of my guys. Tuesday went with Cubby to Florida for a few days before her father sent a hitman to pick her up. On their way back, Tuesday sunk her claws into the new guy. That seems to have stuck.
Besides Tuesday’s antics, I don’t know much about the homestead families. Today, I’ll get a crash course.
My mom Erin comes along. She’s the one person I’ve been able to depend on all my life. I’m the result of her smarter tendencies. My brother is what happens when Erin gives into her wackier ideas.
In my SUV with the girls and me, Erin looks nervous. Her dark hair is tied back in one of those half-ponytail styles. She changed her shirt three times before deciding on the simple blue one.
Clover usually hides her wavy brown hair under bandanas, but she’s brushed it out for this party. She’s also wearing a nicer pair of jeans and a shirt without a sarcastic saying printed on the front.
Lola looks lovely in a white blouse, faded blue jeans, and sandals. She’s been moody all morning, alternating between assuming the worst about Val to acting heartbroken over how she can’t have him for real. I consider reassuring Lola that the curse isn’t real, but then I recall Erin’s warning about unrealistic expectations making people unhappy.
Pulling my mom’s SUV onto the picturesque homestead, I glance in the rearview where my guys roll in behind us on their bikes. I suspect a couple of them messed with their mufflers to make their motorcycles louder. There’s been a long-simmering drama between the younger Rawkfist guys and my meatheads. Immaturity will bring out the worst in men.
“You won’t live here, correct?” Erin asks Lola.
“I don’t know.”
“What good is having a VP if he lives in a different town?” I ask Lola.
“But the clubs are linked now,” Clover says, leaning between the seats to see Erin and me. “It’s not like he’s living somewhere random. He’ll be in the mix of Rawkfist plans, meaning he’ll be around to speak up for Basin Rock.”
I glance at Clover and wish she were a guy. My daughters would make incredible leaders, but they have no interest in keeping sweaty men in line.
Those sweaty men arrange their motorcycles in a circle before climbing off and moving to the center. I hear them congratulating each other on creating the shape they were aiming for.
Leaving the SUV, I wonder if adding all their IQs together would reach one hundred.
“Behave,” I tell them in a casual voice.
The men notice how my sharp gaze betrays my tone. Despite the arranged marriage being my family’s idea, I’m on edge and ready to beat the shit out of someone. If the meatheads don’t want to be the ones to win my attention, they best keep their mouths shut and their hands to themselves.
Val comes bouncing out of his parents’ house like a big dumb dog. I don’t know how he’ll keep my guys in line when he’s as obnoxious as they are.
“So hot,” he says to Lola before remembering the rest of us exist. Peeling his horny gaze from my daughter, he loses his happy gaze and flashes a disappointed look at the men. “My sexy teenage step-niece will be underfoot at this party. If any of you act gross around her, I’ll very gently remove one of your testicles.”
When he notices my glare, he adds, “I’m letting them keep the other ball out of respect for my new club.”
Val takes Lola’s hand and tugs her toward the house where his parents wait. Lola instantly reaches for Clover’s hand. My younger daughter grabs Erin’s hand. They walk in a line up to the main house.
“What are we supposed to do?” Cubby asks when I remain with them.
“Say and do nothing. Be like robots with no batteries.”
The guys manage to behave until the entire Rawkfist club arrives. Egos clash. I start worrying someone will pull out their dick and a measuring tape. Suddenly, Val appears to announce how the men ought to save their energy for the Charleston club.
I can’t deny the kid is trying to be a leader. But I don’t know if such a pretty man can win the respect of my guys who are beefy blunt objects.
As the party gets bigger and more people arrive, I fall into the background rather than take charge by talking to Court, Donovan, or Emmett. I already feel like my time is over.
Getting myself a jar of moonshine, I plan to ease my worries by erasing a few brain cells.
I’m near the buffet table when I catch sight of Edith Mooney out of the corner of my eye. I’ve seen her around a few times. Her dad’s a former sheriff deputy turned Rawkfist VP. Her mom is a looker with a no-nonsense attitude. Her brothers are bruisers known for putting men on their backs.
The last thing I need right now is to horndog Donovan Mooney’s only daughter, but she’s a goddamn vision. Her brown hair is shiny and slick down her back. She’s tall and athletically built, yet her T-shirt and jeans do nothing to hide her curves.
I notice her baby blue eyes sizing up my guys. She doesn’t have to say a damn word for me to know she thinks they’re idiots. Her plump lips remain tight as if she might say something wrong if she dares to speak. If she’s half as obnoxious as her cousin Tuesday, Edith might not shut up once she gets going.
Seeing her up close like this leaves me hypnotized. I forget to drink the moonshine. I can’t hear what Val is saying or if my guys are behaving. I’m absolutely transfixed by Edith Mooney.
Her gaze finds mine. I hope I’m not fucking drooling. Her father is nearby. He glances at me without seeming homicidal. I must look like I always do. Inside, my heart races, and my dick twitches. I feel like something was slipped into my drink. Am I high? Is that what this feeling means?
Edith walks over to the table where I stand. She takes a paper plate, places a single spring roll on top, and then focuses on me.
“You're Lola’s father, right?”
“Yes.”
Edith stares at me before narrowing her gaze like I’ve done something wrong. “Tuesday claimed you were elderly.”
“Yes, she likes to talk.”
“You don’t look elderly.”
Her words aren’t particularly friendly, yet I feel like a sexy fuck just to have gained her attention.
Edith bites her lower lip. “Tuesday wants me to check out the men in your club for a boyfriend. It’s warm out, and I don’t feel like interviewing them. Can you tell me if there’s anyone in Basin Rock worth swooning over?”
My mouth goes dry at the thought of her wasting time with one of the meatheads. “I don’t know what you’re looking for.”
“Can they read?”
“Yes,” I reply before setting down the moonshine. “But they don’t read.”
Edith glances over at them bunched together like dateless girls at a school dance. Her gaze returns to me and focuses hard. “I would like a man who understands the value of reading.”
“Are you a librarian?” I ask, trying to remember anything I’ve heard about Edith.
Edith smiles at my words. Her grin drops quickly, and then she frowns at me. “I work for my family.”
“Like Lola works for our family.”
“Are you happy your daughter is marrying my cousin?”
“I want Lola to be happy,” is all I can think to say while I try to remember if Edith is in her early twenties like Tuesday.
What the fuck am I doing? Does it matter how old she is? Edith isn’t an option. Whether she’s twenty or thirty, this woman might as well have “OFF LIMITS” flashing over her lovely head.
“You don’t seem happy about them getting married.”
“I don’t know Val.”
“He’s a moron,” Edith says quickly and glances at her spring roll before resting the plate on the table and picking up the single item in her long delicate fingers. “But you don’t need a NASA scientist to run your club. He’s smart about the stuff that matters.”
“He acts like a hyper child.”
“That’s because he is a hyper child,” she mutters, clearly irritated with me. She takes a bite of the spring roll before spitting it onto the plate and turning to me angrily. “He has a black belt in karate. He knows weapons and strategy. He can be a great leader if you’ll give him a chance.”
Meeting her irritation with my own, I mutter, “That’s what I’m doing by letting him marry my daughter.”
Edith doesn’t back down. She cocks one of her luscious dark brows and purses her puffy pink lips.
“Val annoys me,” she says. “But he’s family, and I expect people to treat him well.”
“I’m loyal to my family, too. If Val does right by Lola, I’ll treat him right.”
“He thinks Lola is his dream girl.”
Startled by her words, I step back and glance at Val walking around with Lola. “Does he now?”
“Yes. The members of my family fall hard for their partners. You’re lucky to have someone like Val love your daughter.”
“Oh, now, he’s in love?” I balk, irritated more than necessary by her words.
“He thinks he is. When that feeling wraps around people in my family, they won’t let go. We love deep.”
Her words anger me. Mostly because I’m already dreading when Edith walks away. I’m curious about her and want to know what her lips taste like. However, she’ll always be out of reach, and I don’t have much choice except to be okay with that.
“And you think one of my guys might be your dream guy?” I ask, sounding harsher than I intend.
Edith’s bitchy expression drains from her face, leaving behind a pout.
“I might have to leave home to find him,” she whispers, glancing at the guys singing along with Skynyrd playing over the homestead’s sound system.
“Where do you think your dream guy might be hiding?”
My words poke at Edith in a tender spot. I scan her family spread out around the party. Her brother Ike and his new wife are to our right. Tuesday and her hitman husband are on our left. West and his redheaded wife are with Val and Lola.
Everyone in her family seems to have fallen in love with their dream person. Yet, somehow, this gorgeous creature in front of me is considering whether to lower herself to date one of my sweaty guys. There isn’t any justice in the world.
“I’m glad Val cares about Lola,” I say, trying to make peace with an irritated Edith. “Hopefully, they can be happy together even if he never loves her.”
“Why can’t he love her? Is she defective?”
Instantly pissed, I grumble, “Lola is a catch.”
“Well, you kinda have to say that, don’t you?”
“Like how you defended Val?”
“No, that’s different. He’s my grown cousin. I could admit he’s a loser without feeling any guilt. A man should never trash-talk his kid. It’s not the same thing.”
“Fair enough, but Lola has more qualities than faults.”
“Well, okay, then.”
Frowning, I demand, “Why do we sound like we’re arguing?”
Edith surprises me with a smile. “I don’t know,” she says and then drops her grin. “It must be my natural warmth.”
Flinching as if I’ve slapped her, Edith backs away. She’s gotten herself all worked up over old hurts.
“A woman with your qualities shouldn’t settle,” I say and gulp down the moonshine to keep from caring too much over how I can’t be the guy to make Edith Mooney happy. “You need to stay away from the guys in my club.”
“So, you’re saying there isn’t anyone in Basin Rock worth stalking?” she asks as her gaze rips away all pretense. “You can’t think of a single man in your life who might have the right stuff?”
Could I ask Edith out for a meal? Why don’t we test this thing between us? I feel the undercurrent of need coming from her. This hunger doesn’t only belong to me.
I imagine us in a restaurant, sitting across from each other, talking like normal people. We don’t have to be Lola’s dad and Val’s cousin. We can be a man and a woman with an ache to be filled.
Except I know who I am and what the McGraw family gets in the end. This need between Edith and I is temporary. We can’t last because no one in my family ever gets past the passion. We have wild fun, yet we never stick the landing.
I hate myself for being sensible. If I were younger and selfish, I’d drag this woman’s heart through the wringer just so I might enjoy her company for a short time. Unfortunately, I feel how much she wants love, marriage, children, everything. That won’t happen with me, and she can’t find someone else if she’s hung up on a dead end.
“No, I can’t think of anyone,” I say, and Edith’s gaze doesn’t hide her hopes crashing down. “Maybe leaving home will give you what you need.”
Edith doesn’t even tell me goodbye. Swinging around, she marches away from me and doesn’t look back. The worst part is how I let her go.