LOLA, AKA FALLING FOR THE FOOL

Val’s family has a nice setup on their homestead. They’re located outside of Tumbling Rock with space to roam. The location is picturesque, yet I can’t imagine living here. Val should have to live in Basin Rock since he plans to be the club’s VP.

While exiting the SUV near one of the free-standing garages, I start digging in my heels on the issue. I refuse to give up my home! Val can bend to my needs! Screw his family and their club!

Then, I hear “Foolin” begin playing over the homestead’s sound system. Feeling lightheaded, I grip Duke’s wrist.

“What’s wrong?”

“Val’s being sweet,” I whimper as I stare into my father’s concerned eyes. “How can I focus on doing right by the family and the club when that gorgeous stud remembers my favorite song?”

“I thought your favorite song was that backpack one from the Dora show.”

I glare at my father who chuckles at my annoyance. He kisses the top of my head and whispers, “Liking your mom made our arranged marriage better. So, Val being sweet or whatever is a good thing. Don’t look for reasons to be upset.”

My dad is right, yet I feel like I need to keep Val at a distance. If I let him close, I won’t be able to deny him. I’ll trust we’re immune to the curse. Then, when he leaves, my heart won’t recover.

Shoving Val away feels right. Well, just until his six-foot-plus athletic build struts toward us. He wears a white T-shirt and painted-on faded blue jeans. His brown hair is wavy and shines in the summer sun. His skin is golden, and his smile is welcoming.

I try to look nonchalant, but my gaze refuses to break away from his. His blue eyes hypnotize me. I’m glued to my spot. I forget to breathe. The longer I know Val, the more control he claims over me.

“Lola McGraw,” he murmurs, seeing only me before shaking my hand. “You look good in white.”

I open my mouth to complain. Val always inspires me to spit unfiltered bitchiness in his direction. Yet, with his smile so bright, my snark remains frozen. I only want to throw my arms around his neck and rub my body against his.

“Sir,” Val says, reminding me how my dad is standing at my side. “You’re looking fit and eternal today.”

“Why can’t you just say normal shit?”

“I was raised too well.”

Duke exhales roughly, already exhausted by his future VP’s mouth. I stare at Val’s lips and wish they were kissing me rather than flapping snark at my dad.

“Let’s do introductions,” Val says as his people walk over.

For the next five minutes, I hear many familiar names. I attach faces to the new people. I have no clue how to spell “Oana,” but she seems nice for a former cult member. I also sense she might be pregnant despite her flat stomach. She keeps protectively touching her belly.

Next to Oana, Alexis is mostly worried about the sunlight on her pale freckled skin. Tuesday introduces Roxie to Clover.

“You share a lot in common,” Tuesday claims about the fifteen-year-old and nineteen-year-old. “You’re both grossed out by your more sexually adventurous elders.”

The young women look at each other and share a “she isn’t wrong” expression. I smile at how Clover has a person to entertain her during the party.

The Blood-Red Suns meatheads eyeball the Rawkfist guys who seem less anxious. I suspect the local guys understand how this alliance will leave them on top.

Duke seems to realize the same thing. I feel his mood shift. Though he uses a friendly tone with Emmett, Court, Donovan, and Jared, my dad’s clearly on edge.

Grandma Erin immediately zeroes in on Christine, aka the matriarch of the homestead.

“We call her Queen Meemaw,” Val says, sounding horny as he stands way too close to me.

Around us, people spread out and fall into smaller groups to chat. Val takes my hand when I ignore his “Queen Meemaw” comment. As we walk around the homestead, he stops and speaks to members of the Blood-Red Suns. I’m surprised when he knows information about each of them.

“Your mom cares for stray cats,” he tells Mucky whose normally messy long hair is tied back and his beard is trimmed.

Likely unhappy to be so cleaned up, Mucky only grunts, “Yeah, so?”

“Queen Meemaw runs a vet clinic. If your ma ever needs help getting those cats shots or fixed, we can arrange that.”

Mucky looks at me for permission to approve of this idea. I give him a “fucking duh” eye roll, so he smiles at Val.

“My ma sure loves those rowdy cats. Can’t imagine how you’d get them rounded up for shots or to get their nuts snipped.”

“Ever since I was a boy, I’ve helped out Christine with stray animals. We use little tricks to get it done. And healthy cats live longer, which I bet your ma would appreciate.”

Mucky’s smile goes too big. For a moment, I think he wants to pal around with Val. Then, he notices the other Suns watching him, so he dials down his Val fanboying.

“That’d be cool,” Mucky mutters and wanders off.

With my hand still trapped in his, I watch Val win over various meatheads. I’m impressed by how he acts interested in their lives. They all warm up under his attention.

Suddenly, Val and I end up at his family’s back deck. Behind us, the party has hit a rowdier mood. Tuesday is serenading her husband with a karaoke machine. There’s a lot of awkward laughter.

I’m distracted until Val pins me to the outside wall of his house. His hands slide into my hair, wrapping my head in his touch before he plants a kiss on my lips.

Val tastes like the best kind of heaven—the naughty sort. I’m floating as his devilish tongue slides across mine, tempting me to ignore my brain and ride hard with my heart.

“What’s all this?” asks a woman suddenly next to us.

Val slowly peels his lips from mine before returning for a quick taste. He finally flashes his gaze toward the woman. I do the same and find Poppy Mercer. I’d be able to recognize her, even if Val hadn’t sent pictures. She looks like an older version of Tuesday.

“I’m kissing my future wife,” Val says and drapes his powerful arm around my shoulders. “She’s a beauty, isn’t she, Ma?”

Poppy is a beautiful woman with thick blonde hair and bright blue eyes. Having seen Emmett and Poppy up close now, I can understand why Val and his siblings are so damned beautiful.

“I was hoping to meet your mother today,” Poppy tells me.

“She lives in Minnesota.”

“Will she take time out of her busy schedule for your wedding?”

“Yes.”

“Well, okay, then,” Poppy says and then starts to smile before going hostile again. “Is your mother an uppity northern bitch?”

“Yes,” I lie since I sense Poppy’s testing me.

“Oh, well, that’s fine. I like variety.”

“So, we’re good?” Val asks his mom. “No drama.”

“Not yet, no. I might wait until after the wedding when she’s trapped in the family and can’t escape my disapproval.”

“My family believes in divorce,” I reply, just so she won’t think I’m a pushover.

“That’s not something you should brag about.”

Taking the bait, I ask, “Isn’t Christine twice divorced?”

Poppy gasps, staggers back, bounces forward like she wants to fight, and finally swoons as if the horror is too much.

While Val helps steady his swooning mom, she mutters, “How dare you know my family’s dirty laundry? I insist on knowing something negative about your family.”

“My great-great grandmother’s coochie created a curse on our family.”

Poppy stares at me, blank-faced for a considerably long time. I don’t dare look away. Not even after Tuesday starts singing “Pour Some Sugar on Me” and likely riles up Cubby by jiggling her ass in Bullet’s face.

“Cursed how?” Poppy finally asks while Val stares at my face like he’s trying to climb into my head and rewire me until I worship him.

“We can never find love.”

“But you already love me,” Val announces. “You’re not even subtle about it.”

His words are like a dagger deep in my heart, so I grumble, “I don’t even know you.”

“True, yet what you know, you love,” he insists.

Poppy frowns at her son and then narrows her gaze at me. “You’re tricking my boy.”

“Our marriage is a way to bind our families and create an alliance between the two clubs. How is any of that a trick?”

“He wants you to love him,” Poppy snarls and saunters closer. “You better love him right or else.”

“I will give you two children,” I tell Val and reach out to shake his hand. “It’s a deal. And in exchange, you will obey my father and become a solid president one day.”

When Val’s fingers stroke the back of my hand, I try to tug free of his grip. Like his hand, his gaze refuses to let me go.

Finally, Poppy clicks her tongue and insists, “I want three grandchildren from you. Two boys and a girl.”

“That’s too many. I also have no control over their genders.”

“I have a few totally irrational tricks that’ll give you the genders you want.”

“Wait, what?”

“Start with a son. Stop eggs and dairy and up your pretzel and banana intake. Oh, and right before you make love, drink a cup of strong coffee.”

“I wouldn’t mind having a girl first,” Val says and slides his hand down my spine. “We should name her something sassy like Cat. If it’s a boy, we can name him Dog.”

Poppy and I frown at Val, preparing to give him shit. He flashes a great smile capable of disarming our irritation.

“Is Poppy your real name?” I ask his mom.

“No.”

“Did you do something wrong to receive that name as a punishment?”

“You’re named after a whore.”

“No.”

“Lolita.”

“That’s not who Lolita was in the book.”

“That’s right, she was a poor abused child. I was thinking of Jezebel. However, since you made fun of my name, I need to make fun of yours. What’s your middle name?”

“Rose.”

“That bitch let Jack drown!” Poppy yells before muttering, “There was plenty of room on that fricking door.”

“I assume you’re referencing something.”

“Your uppity northern bitch mother didn’t put any effort into naming you.”

“My dad named me.”

Poppy scans the party taking place in the grassy space between houses. She locates Duke who seems to be currently annoying Edith. Val’s cousin storms away like my dad is a dumbass.

Poppy asks, “What’s your sister’s name?”

“Clover.”

“Did he come up with that, too?”

“Yes.”

“He put effort into her name. Do you feel like he loves her more?”

“No, I think he was too young when he had me, so he half-assed my name.”

“I love your name,” Val says, erasing the space between us. “I want our daughter Cat to have the middle name Rose.”

“No.”

“I feel like you’re wrong. However, marriage is about compromise, so I will allow you to pick the middle name.”

“I’m not naming my son Dog.”

“How about Labrador or Shephard?”

“No.”

“Boxer?”

“Yorkshire Terrier might be doable,” I reply, realizing he’s either fucking with me or completely serious about a problem I don’t need to stress right now. “Or Shar Pei, but that might be better for a girl.”

“No, our daughter needs to be named Cat.”

“Why?”

“I dreamt it many years ago. However, the woman in my dream was blonde. How do you feel about bleaching your hair?”

“I’m against it.”

“For now,” he taunts and then smiles at Poppy. “I always assumed I’d marry a blonde like my ma. Then, this dark-haired vixen laughed at a guy’s smashed balls, and my heart instantly knew I’d found my dream girl.”

“Aww,” Poppy coos and smiles at me. “I like ball violence, too.” Her smile disappears, and she glares at me. “Don’t kick my son in the balls.”

“Are you also demanding I avoid kicking West’s balls?”

“Don’t kick the balls of any homestead men.”

“Ever?” I bark. “For any reason? What if I’m in danger?”

“No man on this homestead would ever hurt you. They’re soft-hearted dweebs trapped in the bodies of muscled badasses.”

I size up Val and realize she isn’t wrong. No hard-hearted man would offer me such an unguarded smile.

“Okay,” I say and pat Val’s chest. “I won’t kick any of them in the balls.”

Val stares at where my hand rests on his body. He seems transfixed by my touch. When his gaze meets mine, he reveals a slow, seductive smile. I yank my hand away, feeling as if we’ve shared a wholly inappropriate moment in front of his mom, my dad, and Mother Nature.

“No.”

“Soon,” Val mocks. “When the time comes, you won’t be able to outrun it.”

Poppy asks, “Outrun what?”

“Her orgasm.”

“Goodness,” Poppy says and waves off her son’s words. “I didn’t raise you to be so horny or gross. I blame my sisters.”

Val smiles at how she walks to Journey and Justice and then points at us. His gaze finds its way back to me as I try to sneak away.

“Let’s go look at where our house will be plopped down.”

I consider reminding Val how he needs to live in Basin Rock with his club. However, I silence my demands once I witness a vulnerability about him here at the homestead.

Val must know the reality of the situation, but he’s tight with his family. Even living thirty minutes away will likely gut him.

Taking his outstretched hand, I follow him away from the older houses and check out a quiet piece of land. Val enthusiastically explains how we’ll live between his siblings. He makes the homestead sound like one big family get-together at all times.

I simply nod at everything he says and let him dream of staying close to his family. We can hash out the details once I have a ring on my finger and he’s shadowing Duke in Basin Rock.