Cocky Secrets (Cocker Brothers #29)

73. Honey Badger

SEVENTY-THREE

Honey Badger

S he was staring at me like she wanted me, and all of that purity went up in smoke.

Without her glasses those blue eyes have a sultriness that was hidden before.

Or maybe that’s just my cock seeing things his way.

Outside the street is filled with people dressed like she was, in costume to celebrate X-mas, and make money. This whole thing is Capitalism at its finest. It’s all about the cold hard cash, and I want to be rid of all of it. If it weren’t for her.

Turning back to the hotel I toss the door open and storm back in. Her eyes widen at the sight of me. “What’s your name?”

“Margaret,” she quickly says. “What’s yours?”

“Honey Badger.”

Her eyebrows twitch upward. “Honey Badger?”

“Yup.” Turning on my heel, I mutter to myself, “Margaret…” At the door my eyes snap to meet hers. “You’re fuckin’ beautiful, Margaret.”

Her jaw drops and I vanish out the door, strolling into the crowd with every intention of returning when the hotel closes in a couple of hours, to make sure she gets home safe.

A long ways up the road, in front of a group of five, red-nosed Christmas carolers in top hats, gowns, and mittens, I stop at the sound of my name being called. Kinda hard to mistake it for someone else’s name.

Turning around I see Margaret making her way toward me, a beacon of light in a sea of faces. She’s slipping on gloves, her long coat flapping until she hurriedly buttons it closed.

As she catches up, steam pants out of her lips but she pretends she’s not out of breath and that she didn’t just run after me. With a casualness that’s fuckin’ adorable, she asks, “Would you like to walk around the festival with me?”

I stare at her a beat then grunt, “Hell yeah.”

We make our way through a swarm of people, the street lit by white Christmas lights outlining every single fucking building. They really do it up in this place. That wasn’t the only group singing, either. Another group of happy harmonizers starts singing “Little Drummer Boy” like they’re daring me to give a shit about this holiday, when I hate it. They’re all under ten, balled up by over-zealous parents, so many layers they look like Pillsbury doughboys.

“Aren’t they cute?” she asks with a warm smile in her voice. When I just nod and keep going, she catches up with me and says, “You didn’t look at them.”

“Didn’t have to. I heard ‘em.” I glance over and see she’s not happy with my answer. Sucking on my teeth I mutter, “They were kids singing.”

“Don’t you like kids?”

Do I like kids? Why the hell am I out here if I don’t love kids? I left South Vacherie for this quest three months, two weeks and five days ago.

Nah, that’s not the whole truth.

I started years ago in every town we ever saved people. But I was half-assing it. Never took it seriously because women didn’t look at me that way back then and I didn’t believe I had a chance of getting what I really wanted — a family of my own.

I figured I’d live a solitary life, and that the families of my fellow Ciphers would have to do. I’d be a sort of uncle, and that wouldn’t be so bad.

I wanted my own, but didn’t hope much for it.

Then Jett Cocker found his wife. The guy I believed would be a bachelor until he died, right along with me, found a woman who made his eyes glow. I became the only Cipher left without someone to call mine. Even the kid Tonk, our youngest member, had one.

The days dragged on, as I felt more and more angry.

I didn’t see it coming, the frustration.

It was bleeding into everything I was doing.

I was discouraged and taking it out on everyone.

Especially myself.

Melodi told me one night when she’d had too much tequila that I needed to get to a fuckin’ gym if I was going to find a wife. “And maybe stop chewing with your mouth full, Honey Badger. That shit’s digustin’!”

She’s always a bitch, but no one wants to change her. So I heard what she said, took it in, and it was enough of a kick in the ass to make me think I might be able to get it done.

I started lifting weights. Running. Training my body into what it is now. I turned down beer and drank more water. I sweated more than I have in my entire life, but eight months later I was fucking ripped and ready to go.

The search began. While we traveled I scanned faces, drifted away from my brothers to delve into corners of every town hoping to find my wife. I went out on lone missions because I wanted more time to do what I had to do.

Then after our last job I took off for San Francisco while my fellow Ciphers all went back home. I stopped in Nevada City for a night of sleep only. Chose a Bed I’ve slept on the floor. Now it’s time to aim high.

Of course life wants to fuck with me, though, because what are they doing at the fire pit? Roasting chestnuts. Yep, they’re motherfucking roasting goddam chestnuts around a fire. I almost growl with frustration, but cover it in time as she glances to me, eyes suspicious.

“Would you like a chestnut?” she asks in a searching way.

She’s testing me.

She can tell I’m boiling over.

Just take the chestnut, Honey Badger.

Take the motherfucking chestnut.

“Nope,” I mutter.

Her blue eyes narrow again before turning to the man who’s offering. “Yes, I’d love one, thank you.” She holds it in front of my mouth to feed it to me, her eyes dancing with interest. I shake my head and she drops it from one gloved hand into the other. “Come this way.” She pops it into her mouth, and grabs my hand, lifting up the long hem of her Victorian gown with the other so she can walk faster.

“You takin’ me to bed already?” I smirk, but the joke doesn’t amuse her.

“I want to show you something,” she dryly tells me, her eyes locked ahead as we make our way through the crowded sidewalk. At the end where Union Alley intersects with Broad Street, and where her hotel is in sight across the way, she stops at the edge of the town’s twenty-foot-tall Christmas tree, releases my arm and watches me as I get all twitchy. “Isn’t it pretty?”

I side-eyeball the thing for a millisecond which is way too long a time in my world. “It’s…” I can’t even say it, so I just cross my arms as happy strangers swarm around. There are miracles alright. It’s a miracle no one’s running into us.

She faces off with me. “You’re a Scrooge, aren’t you?”

My turn to go.

She chases me down. “You hate Christmas?”

I keep right on walking through the slush. “Yep. It’s bullshit!”

“You can’t call it bullshit. That’s like saying bunnies are ugly. Why do you think that way? What happened?”

I grumble, “That’s my fuckin’ business, ain’t it?” walking faster and making it harder for her to keep up. I can’t get away from this conversation fast enough.

“You hate Christmas but you come to Nevada City? That makes no sense.”

Turning, I growl, “I didn’t come here to see this!”

“Then why did you come?”

“I came searching for you!”

We stare at each other. “I don’t understand.”

Not one for poetry I blurt, “I’ve been searching for my woman. That’s you.”

“What?!” she gasps as if I just told her I believed the earth was flat. Or that there was a guy in the North Pole with elves and a wife who cooked for them all. Yeah fuckin’ right. “That’s crazy. You don’t even know me.”

I shrug and lean in, pointing to my chest. “I’m more animal than man and we lead by instinct. I know it in here. But I’m done with this conversation.”

I leave her staring after me, standing back where I found her, in front of the National Hotel.