Chapter 3

 

 

 

Bellamy

 

OMFG! I cannot seem to escape my past any more than I can ignore having to take a piss after chugging four bottles of water. Two times in a week’s span is more than my heart can handle. Now, he’s wrapped around my Granny’s every freaking word as she compliments his strong arms and runs her fingers through his dirty blonde hair. He’s eating up the attention as much as she’s dishing it out.

 

Let me give you a little background on my Granny. She’s the epitome of a cougar. She’s never been married and has never wished too, but she did bless the world with my father, Kenny. He was the apple of her so-called eye until he married my mom, Viola and I was born. She became my BFF. We went shopping together, had boy-talk, and she bought me my first vibrator when I graduated from boot camp. She’s sassy and doesn’t take shit off of anyone, which is a gene she passed down to me.

 

When it comes to men, and I mean men of all ages, she lures their unsuspecting asses in and BAM, they’re her lovers for however long she’ll have them. When it ends, she’s cordial, and they remain friends. It’s a major what the fuck moment every time.

 

I’ve seen the best of both worlds. I’ve watched my dad fawn and fall all over my mother for the better part of twenty years, and I’ve seen the single, live free life my Granny swears by. Whatever floats your boat. But, I’ve always wanted that security a relationship offers. I’ve had my share of boyfriends, but the flame would fizzle, and I was done. I’ve, also, had my share of flings when the need hits and the feeling of shame the next day never suited me. That’s why I’m looking optimistically for the one man who will set my body aflame and keep my mind engaged.

 

I’m a thinker and a mover. If I’m not moving, my mind is running rampant. If I’m moving, my mind is free, silent. That’s why the military was so appealing. It gave me opportunities and routine that kept me moving. It’s, also, why becoming a traveling nurse wasn’t terrifying at all, but more of an adventure. I got to go to some place new and help others just as I did as a Marine.

 

Banshee being here during my one night a week with my Granny is putting a burr under my saddle and leaving me unsteady. He’s attractive, way more attractive than he should be. Why can’t he be six-six and skinny as a string bean? No, he must have bulging muscles that make a woman drool and strapping thighs I want to ride. Gosh, I’m over here panting while my Granny is squeezing his biceps. I’ve seen enough and if Granny wants to take him for a ride more power to her. He’s into the same type of relationship status she is, single and available to fuck.

 

I leave my overly touchy Granny to her new chew toy and finish preparing dinner. When I’m not traveling, we’ve made it a ritual for Taco Tuesday, the G-rated kind. We have our tacos and some cervezas and discuss the bullshit of the week. Having Banshee here just adds a small hitch in our night. Maybe, he’ll get a call and have to rush off. 

 

I plate up our food and take it to Granny as I sit on the sofa beside her. She studies her tacos and then hands it over to Banshee. She gets up, goes to the kitchen and minutes later returns with another plate. She sits with a hharrumph.

 

“Don’t mind her, honey.” She soothes. “She hasn’t learned that you catch more flies with honey than you do with vinegar. Oh, I’ve tried to get her to use her womanly ways to attract herself a man, but she never returns with one that’s quite as masculine as you.” Her eyelashes flutter. Jesus, this woman never quits.

 

“It’s alright, Bea. I’ve known Bells a long time, and I like her vinegar a lot more than I like her honey. Though…”

 

“Don’t finish that sentence.” I chide. “You wouldn’t know good honey if it slapped you in the face and announced it was premium.”

 

He chuckles and then like a light bulb has gone off in Granny’s head, she studies him. She takes her glasses off, wipes them on her shirt and stares at him. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!” She exclaims. “Lawson. No, it can’t be.”

 

“It’s me in all my man-meat glory.” He laughs.

 

“You got that shit right.” She mutters. “Well, I’ll be damned.” Her head swings to me. “Why didn’t ya tell me you’d seen him here in Georgia of all places.”

 

“Not much to tell. He watched me get my cat waxed. End of story.”

 

“I beg to differ.” He rebukes. “I tried to have a friendly conversation with you and even asked you on a date, and you turned me down. Even called me a ho.” He sounds so put out. “Can you believe that, Bea? Me of all people and she won’t even let me take her to dinner. She’s got it in her head that all I want are her goodies.”

 

Granny nods along as he speaks and when he’s finished, she pats him on the leg. “I told ya I’ve tried. The lord knows I’ve tried. She doesn’t want to be like her dear ole’ Granny and have the pick of the litter of men around here. No sir. She wants Cinderella’s life. She wants the man, the ring, the marriage, the house and the babies. She should just want the D, but not Bellamy. She’s had her head in the clouds since she was a teenager and that snot-nosed kid from down the way asked her out all with the dreamy sighs and writing Mrs. Bellamy so and so on every damn thing she owned.”

 

“Well enough said, she can be Mrs. Bellamy Peters if she’d ever give me a shot.” He says with every ounce of conviction he can possess as I sit there unmoving and unable to speak.

 

Granny shoots to her feet. “Hallelujah! My little girl done gone and found herself some grade A man-meat to put a ring on it and load up her belly with babies.” She praises and rushes off to her room. “Gotta call Viola and get to planning. It isn’t every day your only granddaughter marries a hunk.” She runs back with her cell in her hand and snaps a picture of Banshee. “Proof so your momma don’t think I’m blowing smoke up her ass.”

 

I glare at Banshee. “Thanks a lot, asshole.”

 

He looks at me confused. “What?”

 

“Now, I’m going to have to break my momma’s heart and tell her that I’m not getting married and filling her home with grandbabies.”

 

“Seriously.” He chokes. “Bellamy, I was fucking with ya. I didn’t think she’d run off and sound the marriage brigade to your momma.” He considers me for a second. “Oh, shit. Your dad is going to skin my hide. Your brothers are going to be his accomplices.” He’s sweating, and then a cocky smirk appears on his face. “Welp, Sweets, I guess we need to be getting to that courthouse in the morning and getting us a marriage license. I ain’t got much time to be planting my seed so they can get their first grandbaby.”

 

“You think this is a fucking joke.” He smiles at me, and I glare harder at him. “My momma has wanted me married since I was twenty-two. The same age she was when I was conceived. She wants grandbabies about as much as my dad has wanted that big buck out at Jameson’s farm every year for the past ten hunting seasons.”

 

“Fuck.” He murmurs. I guess he understands my analogy. “Go tell her I was just talking that it isn’t real.”

 

“You go tell her. You go hurt her feelings and my momma’s. You’re responsible for it, so you go take care of it.”

 

He runs his hands through his hair and gets up. I watch him sluggishly walk towards my Granny’s room.

 

I clean up the kitchen and wash the dishes. It’s been a good twenty minutes since Banshee went back there and it’s quiet. Too quiet. I sneakily step down the hall to my Granny’s cracked bedroom door and peek in. My face grows hot, and I break out in a sweat. Granny and Banshee have their heads together bobbing up and down as they discuss none other than my grandmother’s wedding dress draped on the bed. I’m going to de-ball him.

 

Pushing open the door with more force than necessary, I strut into the room getting their attention. My Granny has starred in her eyes and Banshee guiltily looks away.

 

“Did you tell her?” I spout.

 

“Bells.” He says calmly. “Let’s save this discussion for later.”

 

“Nope, that ship sailed half an hour ago when I told you to come in here and tell my Granny…”

 

He covers my mouth with his hand and whispers in my ear, “please save this for later, Sweets. I’m sorry, but I couldn’t do it.”

 

I lick the palm of his hand, and he removes it. I look him square in his eyes and mouth ‘pussy’ before stomping out of Granny’s house and to my Charger. Fuck this shit. He put his foot in his mouth, so he can deal with the consequences of dealing with my entire family while I go home and look for any urgent nursing positions that are available out of state.

 

You may think I’m running, but I’m not. This is the shit he pulls every time. Everything can be going well and then BOOM; he does some asshole-ish thing to piss me off. Then he disappears for a year or so. That’s what I know will happen, so why not take myself out of the equation and let him deal with the Breese’s.