Page 51 of My Redneck Baby Daddy

He did not move.

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing.”

“You’re staring.”

“Just looking at my baby mama.”

I rolled my eyes so hard it hurt. “Fiancée.”

He pulled his shirt over his head and climbed into bed beside me, and the whole frame complained about it.

“My redneck baby mama.”

I closed my book.

“You’re the redneck.”

Bobby Jo leaned over and kissed me.

“Yeah,” he said. “But I’m your redneck.”

Bobby Jo

Four years later…

My house hadn’t been quiet in hours. Since around nine a.m., to be exact.

Mama and Claire had taken over the kitchen by ten and had been telling my wife she was doing things wrong in her own house ever since. Rue had our six-month-old on one hip and a wooden spoon in the other hand. Finally she’d quit arguing with either one of them around noon.

BJ was running laps through the living room in a Maddox Concrete T-shirt I had printed in the smallest size the shop would do, which was still too big.

I was out on the back step with the turkey fryer and Charles Ellis, who had come out of my garage carrying my own propane tank like he paid the mortgage here.

I stared at him. “How is it you know where my stuff is better than I do?"

He offered a quick ass reply. “Because you don't put nothing back where it belongs."

Rue went past the window with the baby. "THANK YOU."

Four years ago that man shook my hand across his counter like he was serving me papers. Now he fussed at me in my own yard and told my employees where I keep the bottle opener.

"You know," Regina said, loud enough to carry, "four years ago you had never kissed anybody."

I watched Rue turned around slowly. "Regina Mae.”

"I'm just making an observation."

Rue fanned her away. “Don't."

Regina looked at BJ tearing through the living room, then at the baby on Rue's hip. "I set you up on one date."

"Regina."

"One. Now you're married with two children."

Rue pointed at the door with the spoon. "Get out of my house."