SIOBHAN
Without the girls around, my house feels too quiet in the mornings. Our gray cat Bubbles refuses to acknowledge me until the twins return home.
Before dawn, I wander around my spacious five-bedroom ranch house, looking for something to do with myself. Two local girls clean my place once a week. Like many of the women who work for the club, they come from abusive homes–whether their abuser be their parents or a significant other.
Most people who are offered help when they’re down become very loyal to those who lent them a hand. The club’s generosity creates a web of faithful followers.
I could probably do a little paperwork for the clubhouse or our employment agency. Carys usually handles most of it since she’s better with numbers and hiding income by maximizing losses. However, my sister is taking a long maternity leave with her latest baby. She claims having a child in her thirties was twice as difficult as when she was a young mom.
Sitting down at my kitchen table, I work for all of ten minutes before I give up and grab my purse. I need to get out of this quiet house and be around people. I also want to know what Indigo has shared with people.
Not that he’s a gossip. He might not say anything . Is that what I want? Should we just pretend this morning never happened?
Before I can answer such a question, I need to talk to Indigo. He’s different now. I’d viewed him as my brother, simply another rowdy man in a family full of them. Now, he feels sexy, complicated, and addictive. I never could have guessed such passion was hidden inside him.
I wish I could get Natasha and Hunter to talk me through the situation, yet I’m afraid to show up at their houses. If Indigo complained about me to Bear and Tack, I’d be walking into drama. I need to be soothed, not riled up.
That’s why I head to the farm. My parents know how to dismantle even my biggest problems and make everything feel manageable.
The farm is located on the south side of Banta City. My parents live in a large farmhouse with their minor foster boys. Next door is another farmhouse for older, single guys like Indigo. Farther down the road into the farm are dozens of homes filled with club families, including my sister, Pork Chop, and their three kids.
With me often here, I sometimes consider selling my house and moving back to the farm. The girls love the relaxed atmosphere and enjoy playing with their cousins. My parents bought me the ranch when Sync moved off the farm. They figured it would be easier for us to handle visitation if we lived in the same neighborhood.
Now, my best friends live nearby, too. Their homes are grand and wrapped in security fencing. My place is a sprawling ranch on a decent-sized lot. The girls have a swing set in the backyard. They attend a nice school with a great teacher. Life is good in the Willow Brook neighborhood. I like knowing my friends are close.
Yet, as I arrive at the farm, I find myself wondering if I need to shake up things in my life. I could quit my job at the clubhouse and move back to the farm.
Parking my truck near my parents’ house, I rest my forehead against the steering wheel. Why am I ready to scrap everything? The girls would need to change schools. They like knowing their dad is less than five minutes away. I also enjoy working at the clubhouse. Why should I give up everything just because I feel bad about what happened with Indigo?
My gaze flashes to the second farmhouse. Is Indigo still sleeping? I spot his dogs—Grumpy and Sleepy—playing near the woods. They wouldn’t be running loose this early if Indigo was around. Where is he, then?
“Whatcha doing, kiddo?” Dad asks as he presses his nose against the passenger window. “Your mom’s worried you forgot how to work a door handle.”
Elvis O’Malley is a great man. All my earliest memories are filled with happiness. My dad played with Carys and me all the time. He loved to get in the mud or fingerpaint. When I got in trouble, Dad never lost his temper, but he didn’t let me be a wiseass, either. His “World’s Best Dad” coffee cup isn’t overselling the man’s skills.
Right now, he tugs me out of my truck. His thick brown hair hangs in his dark brown eyes, and he’s wearing his Sunday clothes of sweats and an extra baggy T-shirt. “What’s wrong?”
“I messed up something that could have turned into a beautiful adventure. ”
“Don’t tease me, baby,” he says and follows me into the house. “I need details.”
I find Mom in the kitchen. Her curly brown-and-gray hair is loose and wild around her shoulders. She’s wearing her own Sunday outfit of pale blue overalls and a tank top. My parents prefer to go sloppy chic on the weekends.
“Your daughter lost out on a beautiful adventure,” Dad announces as I dive for Mom and soak in her affection.
“Does it have anything to do with Indigo?” she asks.
I stare startled into her curious eyes. “Why would you ask me that?”
“He’s hiding out in the hills with your uncle. Caveman claims Indigo has no plans to return to the farm. He wants someone to pack up his stuff and bring his dogs to the hills.”
Pouting feels wrong for a woman nearing her thirtieth birthday. My tears also seem excessive.
However, my guilt and shame drag me down. I was hungry for a man’s touch, but Indigo needed tenderness. He had gone so long without sex. Hell, I’m unsure if he’s ever had sex before.
I didn’t consider any of that when he kissed me. Overwhelmed by desire, I chased the feeling until we were both out of breath. Once we were thinking straight, though, Indigo realized I wasn’t who he wanted. Or I’d been a bad lay. I don’t know the answer because he doesn’t talk.
“I messed up with Indigo,” I admit, fighting tears.
“How?”
“I don’t want to tell you.”
“Did you make fun of his mom getting hit by a bus?” Golden asks as he enters the kitchen.
My parents shoot disapproving frowns at the pretty blond biker. He freezes under their annoyed gazes while I sniffle and wish he would shut up.
“He really hates when I mention it,” Golden adds.
“Why would you say such things to him?” Aunt Fred asks in a voice capable of turning Golden into a scolded boy.
“I don’t know.”
“I think you do.”
“I’m jealous he had a mom who loved him.”
“Bullshit,” Elvis says and points at the door. “Get outside and come up with a better lie. ”
Golden is a big guy. Women at the clubhouse think he’s dreamy with his blond hair and bright blue eyes. I’ve always found him annoying because he has no filter. Right now, the muscled, big-mouthed himbo shuffles his obnoxious ass out of the house.
My parents look at me, and Dad says, “Now share what happened.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“I can’t think of a version of the story that doesn’t make me look bad.”
“Do I need to send you outside until you can lie better, too, honey?” Dad asks and starts tilting his head toward the door. “Maybe sit on the porch and get creative with your version of the truth.”
Mom rolls her eyes. “Just be honest. We love you even when you’re wrong.”
“Can you keep a secret?”
“Of course,” Dad says immediately. “I still haven’t told Zoot where Noble hid his baseball cards. Been keeping that secret for forty years.”
I glance around, wondering if any of my foster brothers—whether little or big—might be eavesdropping. My parents guide me to their office and shut the door.
“Indigo kissed me this morning when we were alone at the clubhouse.”
“And you weren’t feeling it, kiddo?” Dad asks when I stop talking.
“No, I got super horny and jumped on him and dragged him to the back bedroom and forced him to fuck me,” I explain as my voice gets louder and more frantic. “I lost all semblance of dignity! Now he hates me!”
Dad wants so badly to laugh. Mom shakes her head, silently warning him to keep his chuckles to himself.
“You couldn’t force Indigo to do anything,” Mom insists as she strokes my cheek. “He’s a strong young man. If he wanted to say no, he would have.”
“He’s obedient with me. Like a dog desperate for affection, and I just humped all over him.”
Dad can’t help himself and starts laughing. Mom refuses to give in to her amusement. I know the words I’m saying sound funny. However, the way everything went down felt like I took advantage of a young person with no ability to fight back.
“I don’t think it happened that way,” Mom says as I nuzzle the soft spot at the crook of her neck. She smells like baby powder and flowers. My heart immediately stops hurting as much when she holds me. “I think you and Indigo were lonely and things got out of hand. Neither of you have much experience with dating or sex. That’s why it feels so strange now.”
“Yeah, kiddo,” Dad adds when he’s gotten control of his laughter. “That boy might be wired wrong, but he knows a good thing when he sees one. That’s why he kissed you.”
“But he was mad when it was over.”
“Only because Indigo’s wired wrong. You can’t take things personally with him. In fact, I’m surprised you’re all wound up like this when you know how moody he can be.”
I don’t respond because my feelings are jumbled up. Indigo is so handsome, and I’ve never been with anyone except Sync. Sex means a lot to me, and I love Indigo as my family. I’d probably be upset, even if he hadn’t acted like I was a wretched whore.
“Here’s what we should do,” Mom says while she and Dad hug me between them. “We let Indigo get away for a few days. I’ll check on him soon. He’s going to miss the farm. I don’t think he truly wants to stay in the hills. When he’s ready to come home, we’ll all figure this out.”
“Did you know he liked me?” I ask them as they keep me lovingly squished between their bodies. “Was this information obvious to everyone?”
“I suspected,” Dad says. “Well, I figured he either wanted you or Golden.”
Stepping out of their hug huddle, I insist, “Don’t tell anyone.”
“For how long?”
“Forever.”
Dad offers me a warm smile and promises, “Like the baseball cards, I will take your secret to my grave.”
I look at my mom, feeling dirty and guilty. Indigo can seem so fragile. He had a weird mom who got hit by a fucking bus while her son stared on in horror. I don’t think he has any idea who his dad might be. I doubt his mom even knew.
That’s why I wish I had been gentle with Indigo this morning. He needed to feel valued. I probably hurt his feelings by acting so horny and needy. I know he hurt my feelings by turning cold. One of us is better at controlling our feelings, and that person can only wait to see what Indigo does next.