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Sleeping over at Monroe’s apartment is the most comfortable night of my life. I never worry about the club meeting tomorrow or how my mom texts twenty times to tell me that she thinks someone’s in the yard. Rather than playing that game, I message Bronco and ask for him to check on her. Then, I turn off my phone and hang out with my honey.
We’re up until a late hour. Amity joins our party after her shift. We eat popcorn while sharing a joint. “Gremlins” plays on the TV with the sound off while we listen to Guns N’ Roses. I sit on one end of the couch with Monroe in the middle and Amity on the other side. We’re so chill that I feel as if we’ve been doing this shit for years.
Eventually, a stoned Monroe stands up and announces her pussy is painfully empty.
“You need cock!” Amity declares and then gestures at me. “Go fix that.”
As Monroe wiggles her hips in a goofy attempt to seduce me, I stumble after her and announce, “My cock to the rescue!”
My honey and I suffer through the clumsiest sex possible yet manage to get off. Monroe giggles the entire time, calls me “Connie,” and then falls asleep on her stomach backward on the bed.
“Best first date ever,” I tell myself as I doze off.
The next morning, Monroe can’t wake up properly and mumbles everything. I have to get really close to her mouth to hear anything she says. Finally, she licks my ear, and I give up on understanding her. She does show me the message from Jena, explaining how her work schedule was changed. Based on her half-asleep frown, Monroe isn’t happy with losing her shifts at Rooster’s.
Leaving her to wake up, I drop by my house to change clothes and check on Barbie, who is perfectly fine as she prepares to go jogging.
“You didn’t need to send Bronco, snitch,” she growls and darts out the front door.
I smile at how her plan didn’t work. Of course, if I hadn’t sent Bronco, she might have been genuinely losing her shit. Pills or no pills, ignoring her mood swings isn’t an option.
Finally, I walk next door to Bronco’s house. His young, blonde wife, Lana, answers the door with their now two-year-old surprise baby, Carina, peeking from behind her mom’s leg. I smile at my youngest cousin, who gives me the same look as her father does when he isn’t sure if I’m fucking with him.
“They’re downstairs,” Lana says, shutting the door. “How’s Monroe?”
“Fine. How is the family?”
“You just saw us.”
“Yes, but they grow so fast,” I say, leaning down to look at blonde, brown-eyed Carina. “Are you being sweet to your mama?”
“No.”
“She says no to everything.”
“Big shock,” I say, standing straight. “Parrish women are notoriously bitchy.”
As Lana gives me a little smile, I recall how closed off she seemed when she first arrived in Elko. We weren’t her people, and this town wasn’t her safe place. Now, Lana’s settled into the community, and her family of six feels comfortable.
After my cousin offers me a cup of coffee she’s pretend-drinking, I politely decline and head downstairs to the large basement. I find Bronco, Lowell, and Anders dressed identically in black T-shirts, blue jeans, and black boots. I’m glad I changed into a gray top, or else I’d be a member of their boy band.
“What’s the deal with Monroe’s work schedule?” I ask rather than waiting for them to set the tone.
“She isn’t a bunny, so she can’t work bunny hours,” Bronco says as if he thought this out himself and wasn’t bullied by Lowell—or more likely—Topanga. “She’ll still get paid the same.”
“Uh-huh.”
“We also want to move her into one of the Overlook’s empty apartments,” Bronco continues, again parroting whatever Topanga told him. “Until she’s willing to live in the Woodlands.”
Thinking of Monroe in his house gives Lowell a constipated look.
“Monroe likes living at the Overlook and working at Rooster’s,” I reply as I rest my back against the wall. “Why change anything?”
“Is this thing with you serious?” Anders asks, and I know for a fucking fact that was his line to say. I wouldn’t be surprised if Topanga gave these men scripts to follow. “Will you soon want to live in a house and have a honey in your house?”
I can’t help chuckling at his awkward line reading. The giant blond bear—as his hippie honey likes to call him—just smiles and shrugs.
“We’ve been together for less than forty-eight hours. So, of course, I feel safe claiming her as my forever woman.”
“Smartass,” Bronco says and tries not to smile at Lowell’s irritation. “But seriously, there’s some confusion on how to handle this situation.”
“Why does it need to be handled? Nobody was fucking Monroe before the DNA test. I’m the only one fucking her now. Why are we fixing what isn’t broken?”
“Amity brings guys back to that apartment,” Lowell mutters.
“So?”
“So, Monroe is there.”
“And you’re worried if she hears the humping that she’ll become confused and come to you for the sex talk?”
Bronco laughs first. As usual, Anders follows the boss’s lead. Lowell just glowers.
“Would you want your daughter at that place?” he asks me.
“Wait, are we prudes now? Is that what this is? The club built an upscale apartment building with spacious units for the sweet thangs willing to suck our dicks on demand. Yet, now you’re talking about the Overlook as if it’s a low-rent whorehouse.”
“Would you want your daughter there?” Lowell asks Bronco, who shakes his head. “How about you?” Anders also says no. “Then, she needs to move.”
“She is the same person she was before you learned that she was your daughter.”
“Topanga got razzed about this from certain people,” Bronco explains and gives a shrug. “She doesn’t want Lowell’s daughter living at the Overlook. Having Monroe in a guest apartment is our compromise.”
“I’ll tell you what I told Monroe. Chill the fuck out. It’s been two days. Why expect anything big to change right off the bat?”
“Topanga wants to go miniature golfing,” Lowell mumbles, and Bronco shoots an amused grin at Anders. “Like a double date with you and Monroe. She said it’ll be fun.”
“How about we do all that shit in a month?” I suggest while still lounging against the wall. “The move, the party, the golf. Just wait a few weeks for everyone to get used to the changes. Then, we’ll start suffering through crap.”
“Party can’t be changed,” Bronco says. “Don’t start whining, either. She’s Lowell’s daughter and your honey.”
“Lowell doesn’t know her, and I’ve dated her for two days. Maybe we can wait until things are more set,” I mutter, playing cold despite me knowing Monroe is the only woman I’ll ever love.
Bronco instantly says, “No.”
“Is this because my mom bullied you?”
Glaring at me, Bronco warns, “Don’t start.”
“Why are you telling me all this shit anyway?”
“You’re the envoy between Monroe and our faction.”
“Makes sense. Except you could ask Jena to play go-between, and she’d give you less shit.”
“True, but Jena doesn’t know the answers to the next part.”
“I’m listening.”
“What’s Monroe running from? Where’s her mom? No one remembers much about Needy. Where has Monroe been for over two decades? You know, the basics.”
I share what I know about Monroe’s past. A minute later, the three men frown at me.
“That’s it?” Bronco mutters.
“We’ve been together for two days. Before Topanga’s big show at Rooster’s, I barely spoke to Monroe.”
“Then, why call dibs on her?” Lowell asks.
“So, no one else could bang her before I got a chance to charm her into submission.”
“And your plan to charm her was to never speak?”
“Worked, didn’t it?”
Bronco rolls his eyes while Lowell’s constipation-frown hits epic levels. Through it all, Anders likely daydreams about getting out of this room.
“Well, if you don’t learn her story, I’ll have to find out the details through other people,” Bronco warns. “What would you prefer?”
“Her story is obvious. Needy couldn’t afford to live on her own. She moved to North Dakota. Monroe’s uncle is a big shit in his small part of the world. They lived there for long enough to pick up some of that Canadian-lite accent. Then, her mom got married off mysteriously. Now, her uncle wants to do the same with Monroe.”
“We need to track down Needy,” Lowell says.
“Let’s keep the background searches to a minimum,” I mutter, feeling the tension rise up my back. “We don’t want to do anything to draw her uncle’s attention to Elko. Who knows what kind of contacts or power he has?”
“Monroe knows,” Lowell says, crossing his arms. “Ask her who he is, and we’ll check him out instead of investigating her and Needy.”
“Fine, but if she’s spooked, she could run.”
“Run where?”
“Might chance contacting her mother. She’s never mentioned any friends or other family.”
“Yeah, but you’ve only known her forty-eight hours,” Bronco says, throwing my words back at me. “You don’t really know anything more than we do. We have no reason to doubt what she’s shared. After all, she was right about her father, but she’s a mystery living in our town.”
“She’s been a mystery for weeks.”
“True, but I don’t know the life story of the bunnies. Yet, if any of them had an issue that might affect the club, I’d want to know.”
I consider asking how Bronco would know if they had an issue since he didn’t know anything about them in the first place. Instead, I accept these men are spinning their wheels as pressure bears down.
That’s how shit rolls in the Woodlands. When something unexpected happens, everyone immediately overreacts to it. Two years ago, Anders brought a hippie chick he stole from a nearby cult to the community, and the club’s old ladies lost their fucking minds. They didn’t trust Pixie. What if she was a spy? They wanted to put Pixie on display to calm their fears. Except a party with her as the special guest only agitated the women more. Eventually, she got into a fight with my bitch cousin and my bitchier cousin-in-law.
Now, Monroe is the big change. The community will insist on freaking out about her before they’ll ever view her as part of our big happy family.
