Vidalia

⊱✿ ✿⊰

The sun is low in the sky by the time I wake up in the spare room. Sitting up, I remember bits and pieces of last night. The most important bit is how I drank too many wine coolers. Everything after that went about as to be expected.

“I can’t hold my liquor,” I mumble to the empty room.

Down the hall and back in the living room, I find Gunnar sleeping on the couch. His bare feet hang over the armrest, and I’m shocked by how badly I want to tickle them. Controlling my impulses, I shuffle to the bathroom. I get one look at the mess in the mirror and know for certain I’m taking a shower.

The main bathroom doesn’t have any shampoo that I can find, so I sneak back into the hallway. Glancing at where Gunnar still sleeps, I can’t help smiling at how relaxed his handsome face looks. He somehow manages to look both tiny and massive on the couch.

Leaving him to rest, I use his parents’ shower even if I feel weird about it. The hot water wakes me up quickly, and I wash away the sleepiness from my eyes. Gunnar’s mom uses a shea butter infused shampoo and conditioner. By the time I step out of the shower, I smell so good that I never want to wash with anything else ever again.

I dress in a pair of jean shorts and a black Harley tank top. Standing in front of a long mirror, I wonder if Gunnar will be turned off by how much I resemble and smell like his mom.

After brushing out my still damp hair, I leave the bedroom and find an awake but sleepy Gunnar sitting hunched over on the couch.

“Hey,” I say, hoping I didn’t do anything to make him hate me last night.

“Hey, you smell great.”

“Eww,” I mutter.

“What?”

“I smell like your mom.”

“Why is that ‘eww’? She smells good.”

“I wouldn’t want you to smell like my dad.”

“Only because your dad doesn’t smell as good as me.” Gunnar takes a whiff of his pits and frowns. “Well, now isn’t a great example, but if he smelled like me at my best, then you’d want me to smell like him.”

“You sound half asleep.”

Standing up, Gunnar lets his gaze roll over my bare legs before returning to my face.

“You look real nice,” he says in the horniest voice I’ve ever heard on a man. Even hornier than the guy who was jacking off while harassing me on the street.

“Go wash up so I can say the same to you, Ogre.”

“I hate when you call me that.”

“No, you don’t. You like everything I do,” I tease, poking his gut.

“Oh, is that right?”

“Yep. Now shower up, and I’ll see about breakfast.”

Flirting is dangerous with a man capable of taking what he wants from me. I don’t care, though. I acted a fool last night, and a lot of men might have taken advantage. With Gunnar, I woke up safe and sound.

Dipping my big toe over the line into danger is a big deal for a chicken shit like me.

On Gunnar’s phone, I discover his favorite music channels and hit play on the oldies country. No more putting up excuses for keeping him away. I want to see what happens when I give the green light to the sad-eyed hunk. If I embrace him and his lifestyle, can I dig out of the fear-based bunker I created years ago to avoid becoming my mother?

I’ve scrambled up a whole pile of eggs by the time Gunnar appears in clean clothes. I smile over my shoulder at him.

“Do you want toast?”

Gunnar stands too closely, crowding me even with plenty of space in the kitchen.

“You didn’t have to do all this yourself.”

“I asked about toast.”

Gunnar leans down and nuzzles the top of my head. “Toast sounds good.”

I fight the urge to step away and end the moment. Instead, I look up at him and hold his gaze.

“What kind of jelly?”

“Surprise me,” he says, and I know he isn’t talking about breakfast.

My anxiety is too damn powerful, and I’m forced to turn away from him. Though I pretend I’m focused on the food, Gunnar’s sigh tells me that he isn’t convinced.

“If you were to ask me out sometime,” I say while plating the bacon, “my answer wouldn’t be no.”

I wait for Gunnar to gloat or make a move, but he only pours coffee into two cups and walks them to the living room. I join him with the plates, and we sit on opposite ends of the couch.

“You’re a good cook.”

“Not really, but thanks for the compliment.”

Gunnar finishes his eggs before he finally returns to my comment from earlier.

“When things get settled, I’d like to take you somewhere nice.”

“Doesn’t have to be anywhere nice. A movie and Mickey D’s would make me happy.”

“You deserve the best.”

“Maybe, but I’m happy with smaller gestures. In fact, I’d be happier with them than you doing something big. I mean, shouldn’t your company be the best part of the date, not where we go?”

Gunnar’s dark eyes light up. “You keep saying shit like that and I won’t be able to keep my hands to myself.”

Smiling as I sip my juice, I refuse to speak, knowing full well I’ll giggle my ass off like a horny schoolgirl. I’m also unsure if I can handle what Gunnar is offering. All these years avoiding men and dating has left me with little experience. I’ve kissed two guys in my life, and one of them was my weird cousin who wanted to show me how to “do the tongue thing” when we were thirteen.

Gunnar watches me but doesn’t push the topic. He knows I’m on my way to taking the leap, and he’s smart enough not to shove me before I’m ready. Despite looking like a scary bruiser, Gunnar is the sharpest guy I’ve ever known. Just one more reason to give him a chance.

⊱✿ ✿⊰

My hand is dwarfed by Gunnar’s as we walk through the woods back to the park where I apparently acted like an idiot the night before. I spot the raccoons he warned about, but he howls at them, and the critters run for cover.

“Your animalistic yell was very manly.”

“I know, but thanks,” he says, winking at me. “Want me to push you on the swing?”

“No,” I balk.

“You did last night.”

“Drunk Vi is an entirely different person, and I can’t be held to her stupid choices.”

“Huh, let me see.”

Gunnar leans down and covers my lips with his. Heart racing, I almost forget how to kiss. Do I exhale into his mouth or hold my breath? Do I stay still and let him move his lips? What if I break a tooth or bite off his tongue? Fortunately, Gunnar’s tender kiss quickly washes away my insane worries.

Despite his desire, I feel him holding back. He knows I’m a clueless loser, and he’ll wait for me to catch up.

And I do.

Cupping his face, I wake up my tongue and enjoy the hot flavor of a man I’m finished denying.

His meaty hands make their way down my back, awakening my flesh. For the first time in my life, I feel like a woman rather than a kid playing dress up.

“Crap,” he says, pulling away his lips.

“Did I break a tooth?”

Gunnar maneuvers me behind him. “The raccoons are back, and that one looks violent.”

I hear his words, but they mean nothing in my flustered, aroused mind. Kissing is without a doubt the very best thing I’ve ever experienced. I’m too addicted to care about a possibly rabid raccoon gnawing off our ankles.

“We should head back. I’d shoot the buggers, but I don’t think killing small animals is very romantic.”

“Okay.”

Gunnar’s smile reeks of cockiness, but I don’t care. Having opened my heart to this man, I’m all in with anything he does or says.

“Crap,” he grumbles again while checking his phone. “We need to hurry.”

Taking my hand, Gunnar picks up his pace. We rush through the woods, and my old fears break free of my current lust-induced fog. I remember the way the man in the alley looked at me. The gunshots echo in my head. Suddenly, I’m back there waiting to die.

“What happened to the shooter?” I ask Gunnar as we reach the house. “Is he coming here?”

Gunnar hears the panic in my voice and stops walking. “My sister’s coming over. Don’t stress.”

“Is the guy still out there?”

“We handled it.”

“So, I can go home?”

“Not yet. Just another day or two. Aren’t you having fun here?”

“Yes, but––”

When I don’t finish, Gunnar leans down and kisses me softly. “You’re safe here. Trust me, okay?”

Nodding, I follow him inside where he starts to say something about having me wait in the guest room. Before he can finish, a dark-haired woman steps into the house while holding a baby.

“Hello, brother,” she says, smiling at Gunnar.

“Geez, Heidi, you didn’t give me much of a heads-up.”

“I was outside when I called, so, no, I didn’t.”

Brother and sister eye one another and then Heidi focuses her gaze on me.

“This must be Vidalia. Hey, I’m Heidi.”

“Hi.”

“Good news, Gunnar. Axe needs to be fed, and his diaper changed. Here you go, big guy,” she says, handing the baby to Gunnar. Heidi turns to me. “I named my boy after the body spray, not a lumberjack tool.”

I nod since what the heck else can I do. Gunnar casually holds his nephew while full-on glaring at his sister.

“Come with me, Heidi, so we can talk,” he grumbles.

“Nope, you and Axe hang out here while us girls go outside to chat.”

The siblings share a silent argument. Gunnar makes threats with his eyes. Heidi only smiles and bats her lashes. I assume she wins because his eyes get sad and he sighs.

“I’ll be right back,” he tells me.

Shrugging, I don’t see the big deal. His sister wants to feel me out or tell me embarrassing crap about her brother. It’s the kind of sibling stuff that I would have done with Reg if he ever dated anyone besides Champagne. Unfortunately, they were married before I was old enough to shame him with bed wetting stories.

“So, Vidalia,” Heidi says, walking back out to the porch where she takes a seat on the front bench, “I asked around about you. Do you want to guess what I found out?”

Sitting next to her on the front porch, I shake my head. Heidi looks ready to spring a deep, dark secret on me, but I have no idea what it might be.

“You lead a seriously boring life.”

“Oh, yeah, I knew that.”

Heidi’s smile reminds me of the pictures of her mom that are all over the house. “No doubt meeting Gunnar must be the most exciting thing you’ve ever done.”

“I don’t know about that. I got stuck for five minutes on a Ferris wheel when I was ten. That was pretty wild.”

“Duly noted.”

“You’re worried I’m bad for him.”

“No, I’m worried he’s too much for you.”

Frowning, I’m surprised by her answer. “Because of the biker stuff?”

“Because my parents spoiled the shit out of us. That’s why Gunnar is so much work.”

“He doesn’t seem that way.”

“Give it time.”

I peer through the window into the house but don’t see Gunnar anywhere. Heidi pats my leg, drawing my attention back to her.

“My parents are returning to Pema in a few days, and they’ll want to meet you. I don’t want you thinking poorly of them, just ’cause they spoiled Gunnar and me. I mean, they didn’t do it on purpose. It’s just that they weren’t raised well, and that made them confused on how much to give and take from their kids. Like my dad’s mom was a good woman but all kinds of weak. My mom’s parents were walking turds that likely ended up in shallow graves for pissing off the wrong people.”

Heidi smiles at the idea of her dead and buried grandparents.

“My parents tried their best,” she continues, “but they didn’t know how much to punish us. What was too much? If they didn’t let us stay up late to watch our show, would we turn into meth heads? If I couldn’t go to a friend’s party because I was grounded, would that one day lead me to become a hooker? Sounds crazy, but when you don’t have decent role models, you need to guesstimate what the right answers are.”

“I have no idea how to respond to anything you’re saying.”

“That’s okay. I don’t know how long Gunnar will take with the baby, so I wanted to make things square with us.”

“I’ve never had a boyfriend before,” I blurt out, sharing too much with someone I don’t know. “I like Gunnar, but I’ll probably do something stupid. I hope you won’t kick my ass if that happens. If you do, I’ll make it as easy for you as possible.”

Heidi grins. “It’d be fun if you and I became friends. I don’t have many here in Pema. I’m on good terms with the old ladies, but I can’t be their friends. Not when they expect me to tell them when their men cheat or when they want their men out of certain jobs. I’m the boss, and they need to do what I say. As for where their dicks end up, I’m not interested in anyone’s dick besides the one attached to my husband.”

“It must be tricky to be the boss to a bunch of bikers.”

“Not really. Gunnar and my man, Jox, back me up when people need reminding of who’s calling the shots. Besides, our president back in Ellsberg put me in charge for a reason. He knew none of the local guys were capable of leading. Gunnar only wants to be an enforcer like our dad. Jox is too dumb. The other guys are too lazy. So instead of having a chapter president here in Pema, I organize shit.”

Heidi leans over and grins. “Besides, men are simple as shit to mess with. They hate nagging. They can’t deal with women crying. And they really hate when I scream at them. I might be a girl, but I know how to make them miserable with only my big mouth. My dad taught me to play to my strengths.”

“My dad never taught me anything important. All my mother taught me was that men destroy a woman’s independence. I want to do right by Gunnar, but I’m suspicious of everything.”

Heidi arches a dark eyebrow. “What has Gunnar done that you’re suspicious of?”

I don’t answer Heidi immediately. Should I mention my misgivings at how days after I shot down Gunnar’s date request that his biker drama forced me into spending time alone with him? No, sharing that fear isn’t a solid idea. Not only does it make me sound arrogant to think he’d go through all this trouble, but it might offend Heidi to think her club’s issues are no more than romantic ambiance to me.

“Gunnar seems too good to be true sometimes,” I say which isn’t a lie. “I’m probably just jaded.”

“Gunnar is a man. He has good and bad in him. Sure, he’s putting his best face forward right now, but he’s not a horrible guy hiding behind a good guy exterior. He’s a dork, for sure, and I’m not just saying that because he’s my brother.”

Possibly feeling his sister has moved into dangerous territory, Gunnar appears at the door. He cradles Axe in one arm and holds the baby bottle with his free hand.

Seeing him so domesticated, I feel my guard sliding farther down. This is the guy I want, and that means I’ll need to stop distrusting him and start taking chances.

Any girl would fall for Gunnar even if romance weren’t on her to-do list. His sad eyes hold such warmth even when he looks ready to cry. I love when he smiles because he fights the urge, making him look like a big, sexy kid struggling to be cool. I can’t stop staring at his rugged face. Broken but still beautiful, he feels too good to be true.

After Heidi leaves, Gunnar and I sit on the couch and take turns kissing each other. I stop us whenever the heat burning inside me becomes unbearable. Possessing no resistance to lust, I hope enough kissing will strengthen me.

“Your lips are so soft,” I breathlessly say when I pull away and study his still pursed mouth.

“I was just going to say that about you.”

I smile because I believe him. Gunnar isn’t great at smooth talk. What he says is what he means.

“How come you don’t have a girlfriend?” I ask, and my fingers caress the short hairs of his crew cut.

“I had one back in high school in Ellsberg, but she dumped me.”

“How come?”

“She said I didn’t share my feelings enough.”

Cupping his face, I ask, “Was she right?”

“I didn’t have any feelings about her to share.”

“Then maybe she was right to dump you.”

“I guess. I didn’t care when she ended things. Then she told everyone how she dumped me and people wanted to talk to me about it.”

“And you didn’t have any feelings about her to share with them either.”

“That about sums it up.”

“You haven’t been in high school for a while. Why didn’t you ever get a girlfriend?”

“Girls are weird with me,” he says, shrugging like a dumb kid. “They think I’m someone I’m not, and they want things I’m not willing to give them. I never met one I’d give up anything for until a foxy redhead showed up at my club bar and downed too many jello shots.”

Smiling wider, I shake my head. “And I nearly didn’t go with them that night. You and I would never have met.”

“We would have. I wholly believe in fate. You’d have walked into my life one way or another.”

“As much as I’d like to think that’s true, how do you explain when bad people enter someone’s life. Is that fate too?”

“You mean your parents?”

“Did I mention that during my drunken fun?”

“Oh, yeah,” he says, tugging me closer, “you told me everything about yourself, so don’t hold back now.”

“That’s a problem with me blabbing while drunk. I don’t know how coy I can act now.”

“Not coy at all, so blab away.”

Rolling my eyes at his enthusiasm, I ask, “So, was it fate for my mom to fall in love with my dad who destroyed her independent spirit?”

“Yes, and your dad didn’t destroy anything. She chose to give it up. No offense to your theory about your mom, but if she were strong, she wouldn’t hand over anything to a man.”

“So why did she get weak?”

“Well, if I understand right, and correct me if I’m wrong, she was independent and then she fell for your dad. Years later, your dad had an accident where he couldn’t take care of her anymore. She immediately found a man who could, but none of these other guys was your dad. With each cheap imitation, she realized how much she lost, and it made her weaker. That’s just my theory anyway.”

Thinking about my mom, my memories are muddled by my disappointment in her. It’s likely I’ve idealized the woman she was long before I was born and became overly critical of the woman she became.

“Interesting theory,” I say, feeling uncertain about my new view of Mom’s descent into the crappiness.

“I didn’t mean to bum you out.”

“I guess it’s a good thing to know my dad didn’t destroy anyone, even if he was an idiot for most of his life.”

“I told you when you were drunk, but maybe you don’t remember,” he says, grinning at the memory of me liquored up. “My mom had shitty parents, but that didn’t make her a shitty person. We aren’t our parents. Not even guys like me with cool parents. I have to stand on my own.”

“Your parents did good with you,” I say, leaning forward to press my lips against his. “You’re a good man.”

“I try,” he mumbles, seeming almost hesitant.

Our gazes lock, and I’m certain Gunnar is struggling with something. I stare into his eyes, waiting for him to spill whatever he’s hiding. Is there another woman? Was that why Heidi mentioned how she didn’t snitch on cheating club members to their old ladies? Did I miss her hint?

“What?” I ask.

“I just wish I could keep you here with me forever.”

Blushing like a fool, I lower my head and regain control of myself. “You barely know me.”

“I know enough. When we met, I felt something special about you. There was something powerful between us, and that’s why I tracked you down and asked you out. Now I know I was right about you and me.”

“Sooner or later, we’ll have to leave this house and see what we’re like in the real world.”

“Preferably later.”

Based on the ease of his words, another woman seems unlikely. My worries ease away, even if my gut knows something is off about our situation. I’ve known from the beginning. Every day that I wake up in this house, my suspicions grow stronger.

For now, though, I embrace the carefree joy I never let myself feel. No worrying over settling for a jerk one day or not having a car or how I’ll fit in the house once Champagne has her baby. Those problems exist outside this double-wide trailer, and I’ll deal with them another day.