“Sheriff, this is more than a little bit embarrassing, so--”
“Well, the truth of the matter is, Evangeline Harper, it’s a bit more than just embarrassing. It’s also illegal. You’re trespassing on private property, and then there’s the little matter of public indecency...but seeing as how this is your first offense, I reckon we can let matters slide a bit.”
Evie let out a shuddering breath of relief. That was something at least. It might not stop the gossip, but at least she wouldn’t have to ask her father for bail money. “Thank you, Sheriff.”
“Now, I’m gonna get out here. Y’all are gonna get dressed and then skedaddle. Next time y’all decide to have a romantic evening, rent a motel room like normal folks, you hear?”
“Yes, sir,” Jackson responded and watched as the man slid behind the wheel of his car and drove away with a cheerful salute. “Well, do you think it will be before or after lunch that your mother shows up at your office?”
Evie put her head in her hands and groaned. It was going to be a nightmare. Trevor would hear, of course, and then he’d be on a tear. Her mother would be impossible and she didn’t even want to think about what her Daddy would say. She reached for her skirt and struggled into it. Finding her scattered clothes and dressing as quickly as possible, she said, “Just take me to my car so I can get home and start battening down the hatches. This is not going to go well.”
“If you want to be a bad girl, Evie, then be one. Who gives a damn what anybody else thinks?”
I do, she thought. Being bad or kinky or anything else in the privacy of her bedroom or his was one thing. Of course, that hadn’t stopped her from walking into Tiny’s the night before and walking out with Jackson in tow like she was the whore of Babylon. Only now it was coming back to bite her in the butt. Having the whole town know that the sheriff caught them naked in a field together, fooling around in the bed of his truck like a couple of horny teenagers was not what she’d had in mind. Even then, she couldn’t really bring herself to regret it. As humiliating as it would be to be at the center of Gresham County’s gossip storm, the way he’d made her feel had been worth it. Getting caught had not been on her list of things to do, but she wouldn’t trade the night before for anything.
“I don’t have to go to work, you know? I was supposed to have the whole week off anyway.”
Jackson laughed, “Oh no. You have to face the music sooner or later, and trust me, sooner is always better. Go to work. Face down your Mama when she demands you stop acting like a jezebel and if that son of a bitch, Trevor, comes within fifty yards of you today, you call the police.”
“And what are they going to do, Jackson? He hasn’t really done anything.”
“Then you call me,” he said, and all traces of humor were gone from his voice. “I won’t go find him and beat the shit out of him, even though I want to, because you don’t seem so keen on the idea. But if he comes near you again, all bets are off.”
It was a unique occurrence for Evie. She’d never had someone be protective of her before. “You know, Jackson Cope, you are a much nicer man than you are given credit for.”
He pulled her to him, molding their bodies together, “I just take care of what’s mine.”
She raised her eyebrow at that. “Yours? Since when?”
“Since the moment you laid back on that dock and lifted that white satin dress for me,” he retorted, and then stopped any further protest with a searing kiss. “Now get your ass in the truck.”
Had it not been for his cheeky grin, Evie would have clocked him with one of her black stilettos. Sliding into the cab of the truck, with Jackson holding the door for her, she met his cocky grin with a death star, “Keep on being a smart ass, Jackson and you’ll find out just how bad I can be.”
“I fucking hope so,” he responded.
Two hours later, Evie was once again seated at her desk, but it wasn’t work that filled her mind. It wasn’t even Jackson, which was something of a surprise. She stared at the picturesque house on her computer screen with a half smile curving her lips. It wasn’t a large house, but it had a lot of history which was important to her. Built at the turn of the century, it hovered between Victorian and Craftsman styles. With dark stained woodwork and large windows, it had gorgeous built in shelving and a kitchen that just begged to be cooked in. Picking up her phone, she placed a quick phone call to her bank to make an appointment with the loan manager and a second call to the realtor to schedule an appointment to view the house. With that done, she settled back in her chair to savor the excitement that burned inside her. That excitement withered when she heard the familiar click of heels in the hallway. Her mother’s perfect, ladylike stride would have been recognizable anywhere. Evie braced herself for the coming confrontation.
“Good morning, Evangeline,” Margaret said, stepping inside and closing the door. “I hope you’re proud of yourself. The entire town is talking about you.”
“My fiancee left me at the alter just a few days ago. They were talking about me anyway,” Evie responded. “Is there some reason you came here, mother? Other than to lecture me?”
“I came because I was concerned for you,” Margaret responded coolly. “I understand that Trevor’s behavior was hurtful to you, but he’s told me how sorry he is. He wants to work things out with you, Evie, but if you continue this ridiculous affair with Jackson Cope, it will never happen!”
Evie stood and walked to the window. She counted to ten before speaking. “Mother, I don’t want to work things out with Trevor. I don’t love him and I’m beginning to realize that I never did. Furthermore, if Trevor comes near me again I will press charges. He assaulted me yesterday, or did he forget to mention that?”
Margaret waved her hand, “It was a simple misunderstanding!”
Evie stripped off her cardigan, revealing the dark bruises around her upper arm. Margaret’s lips thinned in response, but she continued, “Well, he was upset, dear. Trevor was overset by all the things that have happened, but he would never truly hurt you.”
“He already did hurt me, mother. We dated for five years and were engaged for two, and for that entire time, my life has been a misery of criticism from both you and him. I was never thin enough, never good enough and was always an embarrassment to you both. I don’t know why Trevor is so desperate to work things out when he could barely stand the sight of me to begin with!”
“Constructive criticism--”
Evie threw her hands up in the air and made a screeching noise. “No, Mother! There is nothing constructive about it! This isn’t a paper being graded...It’s me. The way I look, the way I speak, the way I dress, everything about me has literally been picked apart and I’m done!” she yelled. Gathering her composure, in a more even tone, she added, “If you can’t be supportive of my choices and happy for me then you can stay away.”
Margaret rose, “You will regret this, Evie. Jackson may talk a pretty piece, but men like him never stick around. When he gets tired of you, and believe me, he will, you will be alone... Trevor won’t wait forever.”
“Please leave.”
Evie sank into her chair as Margaret’s footsteps receded down the hallway. It didn’t help that Margaret’s words had only reflected her own fear and insecurity, but then her mother had always been good at going for the weakest link to bring down the kill. There was a reason that Margaret Harper was at the top of the Gresham County social ladder. It wasn’t just because she was an amazing hostess. Others feared her and with good reason. Throughout her life, Evie had known that she never measured up. As a child, her clothes had always been rumpled, her hands dirty and her hair mussed. In her tween years, she’d begun to put on weight, and in adolescence had failed to shed it. No amount of dieting or exercise ever made her small enough for her mother’s standards.
Pushing those thoughts aside, Evie decided to focus her energy and attention on something she could control. She pulled up her email and began working on the ad for the museum that would run in
the back of a few magazines targeted at Southern readers. Their small museum, with its adjacent battlefield and antebellum home would not draw tourists from around the world. But it did have the potential to draw people for a weekend if they lived only a few hours away. It would be good for the town and good for the museum.
Two hours later, with her eyes burning, she turned off the computer and rose from her desk. The ad was done. She would send it to her graphic artist that she normally used for such things and have it prettied up, but it was essentially done. With her purse in hand, Evie left the museum and crossed the street to the small, local bank. Stepping inside, she scanned the room for her cousin, but when Lisa’s face did not appear she breathed a sigh of relief. She would have to face her eventually, but not after an ugly confrontation with her mother. The receptionist ushered her into the loan manager’s office, which was, in fact, nothing more than a glass enclosed cubicle. Evie completed the application she’d been given and the little man who came in reviewed it. He typed into the computer for several minutes, asking her terse questions. It was hardly a friendly process.
“I’m sorry, Miss Harper, but we need more documentation before we can approve the loan.”
“What documentation? My credit is perfect.”
“Of course, your other loan was paid off without ever missing or being late on a single payment.”
Evie felt ill. “I don’t understand. I’ve never had a loan here before.”
“You borrowed money for Mr. Trevor Dupree, for his accounting firm. I understand that the two of you have recently parted ways, but I assure you, I have all the proper signatures on file.”
“Who witnessed the signatures?” she demanded.
“Lisa Harper. I believe she’s a cousin of yours,” he offered helpfully.
“She is. She’s also the woman Trevor ran away with. I did not sign those papers, Mr. Morris!”
The man appeared visibly distraught. “My only advice to you, Miss Harper, is to retain a lawyer. As Miss Harper is an employ of the bank, I’m afraid I cannot say anything further.”
“I need copies of the loan documents and I also need all of my account statements for the past six months.”
He gulped nervously. “Of course, Miss Harper. If you’d like to come back at four, I’ll have everything ready for you.” Evie nodded and walked out of the office. She was absolutely reeling as she made her way towards the doors. She stepped out into the bright afternoon sunshine and wanted nothing more than to see Jackson. Cursing, she slid behind the wheel of her car and made the long drive out to the lake.
When she got out of her car, she followed the sound of Jackson’s blaring southern rock. He was in his small detached garage, up to his elbows in engine grease and appeared to be happy as a clam. He wasn’t working on his truck, but on an ancient Chevy that appeared to be more rust than metal. Hot, sweaty, dirty and sexy as hell, Evie’s knees went a little weak when she saw him. As if he sensed her presence there, he turned to her with a questioning gaze. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
“I may not be able to get a loan to buy a house because Trevor forged my signature on a business loan for himself.”
Jackson pulled himself completely out of the car then, and wiped his hands on a grease covered rag. “Why would Trevor need a business loan? His family owns the building that his office is in. He doesn’t have any employees, and his overhead is next to nothing.”
“I don’t know. But Lisa knew about it. She ‘witnessed’ my signatures on the documents. What if there’s more? Mr. Morris is supposed to be getting all of my bank statements together for me, as well as the loan documents. I’m supposed to pick them up this afternoon.”
“And Trevor’s insistence that you get back together is because he is probably trying to cover his tracks.”
“Probably, but he hasn’t called or approached me today.”
“You’re not going to meet with him alone. Trevor is now and always has been an underhanded bastard, but this is a new low even for him.”
“Trevor would never hurt me physically.”
“He already did,” he said, pointing to her arm, “And apparently he’s a forger and defrauder, as well. You don’t know him, Evie. Not really.”
Evie had no response to that. “I don’t know what to do.”
“You press charges,” he said, angrily. “It’s identity theft and fraud.”
“Oh, god. My mother is going to be impossible about this,” she said.
Jackson didn’t disagree. Margaret Harper hated scandal of any sort. He put his arm around her and pulled her close. “It’ll be okay. I’ll help you any way that I can. You know that.”
She did know it. Though they’d never been more than friends until she’d thrown herself at him only days earlier, she’d always known that she could count on Jackson. “What are we doing, Jackson? I mean, bad girl lessons are one thing, but this feels like something else.”
It was a complicated question and the answer would probably send her running for the hills. Deciding that discretion was the better part of valor, he said, “I don’t think that’s a question either of us really wants to answer right now. Two days ago you were going to marry someone else. Let’s just take it a day at a time and see what happens, okay?”
* * *
Two hours later, Evie was sitting at the counter of Jackson’s kitchen pouring over her bank statements with a growing sense of unease. It was one savings account in particular that bothered her. Most of the sizeable inheritance she’d received from her grandmother had gone untouched, left in a savings account to draw interest. Evie had never touched that account, neither adding to it or withdrawing from it. But in the past six months, someone had. Several sizeable deposits had been made along with withdrawals that made her stomach hurt.
Checking the calendar on her laptop, Evie realized that each of withdrawals and deposits had occurred in conjunction with weekend trips that she had taken with Trevor to Biloxi or business trips that he had taken alone. The withdrawals she understood, but the deposits were problematic. There was only one explanation that she could think of.
Walking back to the garage, she saw that Jackson was welding some car part that she couldn’t identify. The sight momentarily distracted her from the nightmare she was in. Jackson was unlike anyone she had ever known. The image and reputation that was so important to everyone else in her life seemed to have no value for him. Jackson was comfortable with who he was and didn’t seem to care what anyone thought of him. It was a refreshing change of pace.
As if he’d become aware of her watching him, he turned off the torch and turned toward her. “What’s the verdict?”
Realizing that he was asking about Trevor rather than what she thought of him, she said, “I think Trevor’s been using my accounts to launder money.”
Jackson set the torch down and took off his safety glasses. “That’s not what I expected to hear. We’ve got to find out who he’s laundering for and how the hell the dumbass got caught up in it.”
Jackson looked over the printouts she handed him and his frown deepened to a scowl. “You should take all of this to Reed,” he said. “I know he’s a small town attorney, but the guy is smart.”
“Do you think we have enough proof?”
“Not yet…but I think before you make any decisions about what to do with this information, you need to find out what your options are and how to protect yourself from any fallout.”
“I’ll call him right now.”
Jackson closed his hand around her wrist as she reached for her phone. “It’s Monday afternoon. He’s in court. I’ll text him and have him meet us for dinner later.”
Evie looked down at his dark, bronzed hand against her own paler skin. It took so little. With nothing more than a touch or a look, she was ready to tear his clothes off. “Shouldn’t you be getting back to work?”
“It’s a hobby, not work. I’m an independently wealthy lay about, remember?” Jackson said as he pulled her to her feet. He
tugged her over to the bench seat that would eventually go into the car he was restoring and settled himself onto it with her sprawled across his lap, straddling him. His hands skimmed over her thighs, pushing her skirt up to her hips. He pressed his thumbs against her inner thighs, gliding them over her silken skin and up to the bare mound of her sex. “I’ve been imagining that you’ve been walking around all day without any panties under this skirt and it’s damn near driven me insane.”
Evie kissed his jaw, enjoying the soft groan that escaped him as she scraped her teeth over the corder muscles of his neck. She loved the feel of his whiskers against her skin. “I haven’t worn panties since I let you talk me out of them the first time. It feels so decadent. I think I’m getting the hang of this bad girl thing.”
He chuckled, “God, help me.” As he watched Evie unbutton her blouse, revealing the white lace of her bra and the lush fullness of her breasts, he silently repeated that statement. Through the thin lace, he could see the darker tips of her breasts and her swollen nipples that begged for his touch. Tugging the lace down had the beautiful side effect of pushing her breasts up higher. Leaning forward, he took one turgid peak into his mouth, drawing it sweetly between his lips. He swirled his tongue gently around the hardened bud and was rewarded with a soft moan. Reaching up, he pulled the band from her hair and loosened the braid until her hair fell freely over her shoulders. His normally tidy and put together Evangeline looked wild and wanton.
“You are so beautiful and you don’t even know it,” he said, his breath whispering across her skin. She shivered in response as she slid her hands beneath the T-shirt he wore. Eager for the feel of her hands on his skin, he tugged the shirt over his head and tossed it aside. Her soft palms skated over his chest, her nails scraping lightly over his nipples. Her breath hissed out as he kissed his way up the slender column of her throat. His teeth grazed against that tender flesh and she clutched at him as she tipped her head back, giving him greater access. With his teeth and tongue he played over her sensitive skin until she was writhing atop him, her hips undulating against him, hot and seeking. He claimed her mouth, thrusting his tongue between her parted lips, tangling his tongue with hers.
Bad Girl Lessons Page 5