Running with a Sweet Talker

Home > Other > Running with a Sweet Talker > Page 9
Running with a Sweet Talker Page 9

by Jami Albright


  He gathered his belongings and made his way to the hotel lobby. With each step, he pulled on the armor of arrogance. She hated when he was an arrogant ass. It should keep her out of his business until he had time to figure out his next move.

  Luanne popped the lid off her coffee and inhaled, letting the caffeinated goodness clear the cobwebs from her brain. She considered her interaction with Jack this morning. It was almost sweet, and the ridiculous sexual tension that usually burned between them was at a more manageable level. No doubt because of the way their game had ended the night before.

  After they’d stopped trying to one-up each other, the meal had gone smoothly. She’d enjoyed herself more than she ever thought she could in his presence. But that only left her with more questions than answers. Who was the real Jack Avery? Was he the womanizing playboy, the condescending attorney, the loyal friend, devoted son, or some combination of them all? She didn’t like that she seemed to be obsessed with solving the mystery.

  Fire and moth, Luanne, fire and moth.

  Antsy tingles crawled up her arm and the desire to bolt nearly overwhelmed her. When it came to men like Jack and her father, she couldn’t trust her feelings. The younger, better-looking man in question emerged from the hotel carrying his bag and looking absolutely edible in dark jeans, a light blue polo shirt, and designer retro aviator sunglasses, his slightly too-long hair still wet from his shower. Lord, have mercy, but he was a sight. Tendrils of desire wrapped around her body like climbing vines of ivy. She would’ve run, if her legs weren’t as wobbly as a newborn colt.

  No way would she let him see how he got to her this morning. “’Bout time you got here. What happened, break a nail?”

  “Not now, Luanne.” The muscle in his jaw vibrated with tension.

  What was wrong with him? He’d been fine ten minutes ago. Just when she thought they’d come to some kind of understanding, he reverted back to jerk-face Jack. “Fine.” She got into the car and slammed the door behind her.

  He threw his bag in the back storage space, then slid into the car. Without a word, he sped out of the parking lot and maneuvered onto the highway.

  “Wanna tell me what’s wrong?”

  “Nope.” No way was he talking about this with her.

  “Why not? I’m kind of a neutral party, it might help.” There was some satisfaction in throwing his words from the day before back at him.

  “Cute.” He picked up his Bluetooth earpiece and slipped it into place. “Call Caroline.”

  “Who’s Caroline?”

  “My assistant. Not all of us can take a month off from work, Luanne. Some of us have important business.”

  “I’ll have—”

  “Yes, yes, you have important business too. I’m sure the folks down at the tractor pull are glad you were there to defend their interest when drunken Scrubs Callie jumped from the stands and ran onto the track, breaking his ankle in the process. And I know Shirley McCoy was grateful when you helped her win custody of her pig when she and JT were getting a divorce.”

  Wow, low blows even for him. Those were two of her cases, but they weren’t quite so simple or ridiculous. Scrubs Callie was suing Johnson tractors for a million dollars because he’d been reckless and stupid. If he’d won it would’ve bankrupted one of the oldest businesses in the county. And as for the pig, it had belonged to Shirley’s daughter, who died in a car accident. JT wasn’t the girl’s father and was only keeping the pig out of spite. People were shitty sometimes.

  Case in point, the dickhead sitting next to her.

  “Hello, Caroline, it’s Jack.” He pointed to his earpiece. “Yes, the awards ceremony went well. It was nice seeing people from Beauchamp again. Listen, I know I said I’d be back in the office by Tuesday, but it looks like it’s going to be Thursday or Friday. Why don’t you just work half days this week? Check the messages from home and call me if it’s anything important, but I know your brother’s in town so spend some time with him and have fun.”

  What? He was only extending his trip a day or two? There wasn’t any way they could get to his grandmother’s and to Vermont in a few days. Panic raced down her spine. Was he taking her back? Dumping her? Strange as it was, she’d gotten used to the idea of the two of them on this adventure together.

  He laughed at something his assistant said. “Yes, it’s paid time off. Anything else?” A pause while he listened intently. “Okay. When he calls again, tell him I said he’s lost his mind. What’s he thinking peddling that shit to me? I don’t do business with scum like his client.”

  Luanne shook her head. He really was the most infuriating man she’d ever met. What had she been thinking? That one night of comfortable conversation and he’d changed.

  “Yeah, text me that number. Do you know the story?”

  “What kind of trouble?”

  “But her agent says she’s clean now?”

  “Really? She’s volunteered to take a weekly drug test? Well that’s new. Why do all the good ones have truckloads of baggage? No, I still want to talk to her agent. She’s got that scratchy Janice Joplin thing goin’ on. She’s unique. Good job catching her YouTube video.” He laughed again. “You’re right about that. She is hot. Okay, talk to you later.” He disconnected.

  “Who’s hot?”

  He snapped his gaze to her like he’d forgotten she was there. Really?

  “A new artist Caroline saw online. Supposedly, she was some big deal YouTuber.”

  “Another rock star for you guys?” She turned in her seat.

  “No. Country music.” He hit a button on the steering wheel and the radio came on.

  “I didn’t know the record label you and Gavin started was signing country musicians.”

  “We haven’t, yet.”

  “And you’re going to represent her?”

  He shook his head. “No. We’re also looking to bring on another person, I’ve got my hands full.” The jerk actually winked. “We’ll be bringing someone on to handle that side of the business. We want to give new indie artists a platform.”

  “Interesting. So you want to be a full-service company from representation, to booking, to recording, to distribution? I think it’s a great idea. You guys can give individual attention to your artists, not like the big record labels who are nothing more than conglomerates.”

  His stunned expression almost made her laugh.

  Yes Jack, I have a damn brain in my head.

  Jack gulped down a dry swallow. Damn it, was there anything sexier than a smart woman?

  What the hell, dumbass? Your plan was to keep her out of your business.

  Having a sweet heart-to-heart with her was the fastest way to let down his guard. “Yeah, so?” His insides cringed when she flinched.

  “Why are you being such a jerk? Have I done something that I’m not aware of?”

  “I don’t know, have you?”

  “Fuck off, Jack-ass.”

  If she’d had the capability, acid would’ve spewed from her eyes. It was a good thing he was driving, or he’d have taken that dirty mouth and devoured it. All of that passion directed in the right place, damn, it’d be a sight to see. He couldn’t help continuing to goad her. “Careful, Lulu, or I’ll have to spank that fine little ass of yours.”

  There. It was a tiny spark of interest in her beautiful face, and it was gone faster than she could say, I’ll cut off your balls.

  “I know, let’s talk about that night after Scarlett and Gavin’s wedding.” This was the shittiest thing he could say to her and he knew it. “I want to know more about that fairy dress you said you wanted. And how you wanted to be a beautiful fairy princess.”

  “Know what, Jack?” She grabbed his phone and tapped the screen.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m looking for the next big city. This was a mistake. I don’t need you. I don’t need anybody. You can drop me in Chattanooga, I’ll call Scarlett and she’ll wire me some money, then I’ll have her go to my house, get my things an
d send them to me.” She placed his phone into its carrier, turned, wadded up a jacket, and shoved it into a pillow between the door and her head. “I’m done talking to you.”

  “Sweet dreams, Thumbelina.”

  When her little hand came up and shot him the finger, he bit back a laugh. He was thinking the exact same thing, but in a totally different context.

  The sliver of skin that peeked at him from under her top flashed like a neon sign of desire. The tingle in his hands shot up his arm. He knew how soft her skin was, and seven months later, he could still taste her sassy mouth. That night after Scarlett and Gavin’s wedding had been amazing, until it wasn’t. Even still, the memory of her small body snuggled up against his kept him company every night.

  Her breathing evened out and he knew she’d fallen asleep. Little wisps of her short black hair fluttered as the air-conditioner blew over her head. Melon and lime from her shampoo floated through the car. He sucked it into his lungs like it was the last breath he’d ever take. He’d never been inside her and already parts of her lived inside him.

  This was bad.

  So freaking bad.

  And if that wasn’t bad enough, the GPS said Chattanooga was five hours away. But that wasn’t his real destination, was it? Honestly, he couldn’t avoid this second family forever. He should take her there and get her settled with a plane ticket, a rental car, or hotel room, then be on his way. That’s what he should do, but that wasn’t going to happen.

  His heart bashed into his ribs then slid into cardiac arrest levels when the truth solidified in his brain. Like it or not, he had to see this thing through…and he needed the black-headed troublemaker in the passenger seat with him. She made him laugh when he wanted to rage, and even though they fought about anything and everything, she was on his side. Deep in his gut he knew she was supposed to be on this trip with him, and he always went with his gut.

  He inhaled her sweet citrus scent again.

  Next task, convince the testy pixie that she wants to continue on this journey with me.

  Chapter Twelve

  Luanne paced along the sidewalk at the desolate roadside rest stop. She eyed the building where the restrooms were housed and shuttered. No way was she using those facilities without a bucket of bleach and a box of rubber gloves. Evidently Jack didn’t have the same hygienic hang-ups as her when it came to bathroom facilities. Why hadn’t he gone to one of those convenience stores that advertise clean restrooms? They were everywhere on the interstate.

  The bigger question was, where the hell were they? This rest stop was definitely not on the main road. She specifically remembered there was nothing but straight highway from where they were to Chattanooga when she checked his phone.

  She wrapped his too-big jacket around her middle, and watched dark clouds gather in the distance. They must be the reason for the chilly air. Hopefully it wouldn’t start raining until they got to Chattanooga. That was where he’d leave her, then they’d be on their own…and wouldn’t have to deal with each other anymore.

  The thought of leaving him alone to complete his task caused her stomach to churn. But her life was falling apart too. She needed time to figure out what to do, and she couldn’t do that if she was constantly vacillating between wanting to wring his neck and jump his bones.

  The thorn in her side sauntered from the gray stone building. Jack never walked anywhere—he sauntered, or strode, or swaggered. He shot the paper towel he’d dried his hands on into the garbage can and made it, of course. “Hey, hotshot. My jacket looks good on you. If you ignore the fact that you look like you’re missing your hands.”

  It was true. The sleeves hung three inches past her hands.

  He knelt to retie his shoe string. “Change your mind about the facilities?”

  “No.”

  He rose, stretched his arms above his head, and yawned. “You sure? I’ve seen worse.”

  The lean muscles of his arms nearly made her forget her point, but when he winked at her she remembered what she wanted to know. “Where are we, Jack?”

  “At a rest stop,” he deadpanned.

  “You’re like a junior high boy sometimes. You know that, right?” She took a long breath for patience. “I mean, where are we in relation to…anywhere?”

  He laughed and ruffled her hair.

  She slapped his arm away. “Stop that and answer me.”

  He slid his sunglasses on. “We’re about two hours south of there.”

  “Har-har. You’re hilarious. Why are we on this country road? The last time I looked at the GPS there was nothing but highway between Chattanooga and us. Now we’re out in the middle of nowhere without another living soul around.”

  He straightened and pulled on his lawyer mask. “One, in light of the fact that your father is looking for us, prudence dictates that we take some precautions, namely getting off the main highway. Two, we are not in the middle of nowhere, but even if we were…see my previous point. And, three, there are two living souls in that car right there.” He pointed to an older model, baby-blue Cadillac.

  The car came to an abrupt stop next to Jack’s car when the granny driving it ran into the curb. The other senior woman in the car jerked forward with the impact.

  Jack gave a low whistle. “That Caddy’s older than the Mayflower and just as big. Looks like something my Uncle Ferris would drive.”

  “Fascinating.” She crossed her arms and gave him her best cross-examination glare. “Tell me the real reason you made this detour.”

  Her line of questioning was interrupted by the whisper fight the two women were having in front of their car. Oddly, they were both wearing all black from head to toe, including black flat-bill baseball caps and black sunglass, making their lily-white skin and gray hair stand out in sharp contrast. They looked like the Caucasian, geriatric version of Salt n Pepa. That thought made her chuckle. “I wonder if they’ve had car trouble.”

  Jack slid his own glasses on top of his head. “I don’t know. I better go see if I can help. I’d hate to see anyone stranded out here, especially two defenseless senior citizens.”

  She shook her head as she followed him down the sidewalk. Not five minutes ago, she would have sworn he was only moments from giving her a wedgie, he was acting so immature, and now Jack the Boy Scout was off to rescue two helpless females.

  He was a puzzle.

  The women had their backs to them, still arguing, and didn’t seem to notice as they approached. “You ladies need any help?” Jake asked.

  The women turned at the same time, and Luanne screamed.

  “Hands in the air.”

  “Holy shit,” Jack couldn’t believe that one of the helpless grannies had a revolver. The other had a lipstick-sized container of pepper spray, and they were both aimed at them. Jack reached for Luanne and tried to pull her behind him. Of course, she didn’t cooperate and stood her ground.

  “I’d appreciate it if you’d watch your language. Bobby’s in the car and foul language upsets him,” the one holding the pepper spray said.

  He quickly assessed the situation and knew he could take them, even with Bobby in the car. He turned his charmer’s smile to one hundred watts. “Ladies, we don’t have to do this. Why don’t you get back into your car and drive away, and we’ll forget all about this?”

  “I don’t think so. I want your wallet and that fancy watch of yours in this bag by the time I count to ten.” the one with the gun said. “One…”

  “Oh, that’s good, Pearl, very menacing,” the other one said.

  “June. We’re supposed to be incognito.”

  “Darn it, I’m sorry. We did talk about this, didn’t we?”

  Pearl made a ya think? face.

  “Ah, ladies, if I might interrupt.” Jack started to take a step in their direction. “My wallet’s in the car, I’ll just get—”

  “Not so fast, handsome, I’ll take the keys,” June said, and shoved the tiny canister in his face. He noticed the nozzle was pointed back in her direct
ion.

  “Jack, do something,” Luanne hissed.

  From the corner of his eye he saw his road partner with her hands in the air and his coat sleeves flopped over like dead puppets. It was all he could do not to crack up laughing at the whole crazy situation.

  He lowered his hands and straightened to his full height. He had to give it to Bonnie and…Bonnie, they didn’t flinch. “I think this has gone on long enough. We all know you’re not going to shoot us. That thing’s probably not even loaded.”

  Without taking her glare from his, Pearl pointed the gun toward a tree ten feet away and fired.

  Luanne and June screamed, and Jack cussed when wood splinters flew. From the backseat of the car came a plaintive wail, and up popped a little carrot-top head. He must’ve been three or four.

  “Oh, for the love of heaven, Pearl, you woke up Bobby.”

  “Nana,” the boy cried.

  “I’m right here, Bobby,” June soothed. “Auntie Pearl’s only being silly and making a bunch of racket.”

  “I’m sorry, sweetie. I’ll be quieter,” Pearl said to the boy in a sing-song voice. Then she growled to Jack, “Hand it over, right now.”

  This was ridiculous. What was going on here? “Give me a second.” His brain churned to put pieces together. There was a kid in the backseat, one armed granny, and the other was about to blind herself if she wasn’t careful. Why? There had to be a reason. That was when he noticed the tires on the car were bald and there were rust spots along the side. The sideview mirror hung at a weird angle from the miles of duct tape wrapped around it. Aw, shit. His conscience was about to get the best of him, and Luanne was going to be pissed. “I’m going to reach into my pocket. Keep your finger off that trigger, Pearl.”

  “Jack?” There was a question in Luanne’s voice. Yeah, he didn’t know what the hell he was doing either.

 

‹ Prev