Total pages in book: 19
Estimated words: 17588 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 88(@200wpm)___ 70(@250wpm)___ 59(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 17588 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 88(@200wpm)___ 70(@250wpm)___ 59(@300wpm)
My mother was a singer. Not professionally, but she had the pipes. I remember her singing such sweet lullabies to me and my younger brothers. She sang when just doing housework. Country songs, pop songs, rock songs, she just loved to sing. She applied her talents in the local church’s choir, even if we were never the super religious types. We know that Jesus guy was pretty big on being kind to others and that it’s good wisdom to follow in life, but we’ve never given religion much more thought than that.
But despite her family’s poor church attendance? Dolly was the star of the choir. Even as cancer and chemo ravaged her, she found the spirit to come and sing. My father says she had the absolute best voice in the world. And I struggle to disagree.
And that’s where I come in. The man who sleeps in the drunk tank as much as he does his own home, the man who has cuts on his knuckles from punching people so much, the man who once wrestled a bull just because it frustrated him?
Yeah, I’m taking singing lessons.
I wanted something to remember her by, and I’m going to follow in her footsteps, although I haven’t figured out exactly what that means. I don’t want to be a professional but neither was she, so I guess it all works out.
Sally Landon is the choir director, her husband the preacher at the church. When I sheepishly came to her to ask for singing lessons, she just smiled and agreed to keep my secret as best she could.
It’s not like I think my brothers would disown me for it or anything. But they’d give me shit. Loving, caring shit, but they’d still give me shit. So I’ve kept it a secret. I’m a hardass to everyone else, but I sing to myself. Even if it’s only for me, that’s what matters, I suppose. Each of us Rowdy men have our own way of remembering Dolly, and this is just mine.
I throw on my helmet, hop onto my bike, and head on over. It’s not a long trip. Nothing in the small town of Burly ever is. The Landons have a nice little house, one as old as ours. I step off my bike and head to the door, ringing the bell and patiently waiting.
The door opens, and I’m greeted with one of the things that keeps me motivated to keep coming to these singing lessons.
Cadence Landon. She smiles her gorgeous smile at me with huge blue eyes. Her shapely body is covered by a white dress that does so little to hide her massive tits and hourglass figure.
“Carter, you’re early,” she says, surprised. “My mom’s not back yet. She had to go into the city and texted to say traffic’s been a nightmare.”
“That’s a shame,” I say.
Cadence usually isn’t home during my lessons, but I’ve been at this enough that I’ve gotten to see plenty of her, and seeing her is quite nice indeed.
Of course, despite that? I’d prefer it if I didn’t see her. I don’t trust myself around a girl like her. She’s temptation on two legs. She’s the preacher’s daughter and she inspires dirty thoughts inside of me, but I know better than to make a move on her. She’s too good for a bad boy like me.
“You can come in, Carter. You’re welcome here. I was just about to finish baking some cookies. Would you like some?”
Goddamn, she’s so sweet.
Usually I’d try to find a way to wait outside. But it’s not like I have a good excuse. Am I just going to stand out here looking dumb on the porch? “Um, sure.”
I hope Sally gets through traffic fast, because damn, this is going to be a test.
2
CADENCE
Carter Rowdy has long been my crush from afar.
I didn’t expect someone like him of all people to come to my mother for singing lessons, but here he is. Thick stubble, rough sandy hair, and grizzled. He has tattoos he’s covering, and I’m curious to know what they are but I only get looks here and there when his sleeve rides up his arm.
Of course, he’s a few years older than me, and for a lot of the time I’ve been aware of him, he’s been north of eighteen while I’ve been south of it. It would have made anything developing between us kind of awkward. Besides, I don’t think my mother would be very happy to have me dating someone like Carter.
I know he’s bad news. He keeps getting fights and his mugshot is constantly showing up in our local paper. My father would freak out if his little girl was going out with someone who owned a motorcycle. He’s a super conservative preacher. I wouldn’t expect anything less than him shouting and threatening to kick me out of the house.