Southern Fried Blues (The Officers' Ex-Wives Club)

by Jamie Farrell

  He didn’t sleep with women who were looking long-term.

  He didn’t sleep with women he didn’t trust.

  And he didn’t sleep with a woman who was looking to use him after a bad breakup.

  Same went for a woman whose ex rattled her up. Wasn’t often Jackson had the urge to punch a guy, but this one’s face looked like it needed some rearranging.

  “C’mon, Anna,” the captain wheedled. “It’s just a dance.”

  “And this is just a wedding, and it was just a toast.” Her foot jiggled, showing off pretty toes. “If I dance with you, will you leave?”

  Jackson twitched.

  “Cross my heart.”

  Jackson would’ve rather danced with her ex himself than let the yahoo get within touching distance of her, but Anna Grace was broadcasting stubborn again.

  He bit down on a forkful of cake.

  Darn good cake. Not as good as pie though.

  “I’ll pick the song,” Anna said.

  If that gleam in her eye didn’t scare the S-O-B, he had no business calling himself a man. “Save my mints, okay?” She said. She pecked Jackson on the cheek.

  The captain’s cheeks sprouted thunderclouds. Jackson swallowed a grin. “Yes, ma’am.”

  The DJ broke into the music. “All y’all ready for a bouquet toss?”

  Something passed between Anna and the captain. A flock of bow-headed bridesmaids and an army of normal-dressed single women rushed the dance floor. So did a couple of ladies who looked fit to take on Mamie and her friends at the bowling alley. Anna’s shoulders drooped like they were being tugged down from hell. She flicked a glance at Cheri. “I’m going to go freshen up.”

  “I’ll join you.”

  The captain reached out to Anna. She cut him off with a look hot enough to slice frozen butter. He shifted into an at-ease stance. “I’ll wait here.”

  Anna and Cheri waded into the crowd. A bunch of women flashing rings gathered around the dance floor. Kaci peered around, then pointed to the four flower girls. They squealed and ran to join the single women.

  “You sleeping with my wife?” the captain asked Jackson.

  Jackson held his gaze for what felt like a good five minutes longer than necessary before he answered. “Your momma raise you to talk like that?”

  He let that hang between them while he watched for the girls. Anna and Cheri got caught in the throng of men waiting for the garter toss, slowing down to weave between the crowds.

  The DJ started his countdown. Kaci did a mock toss-back on three. Then two. Anna and Cheri paused between the crowd wanting the bouquet and the crowd waiting to see who caught it.

  Then Jackson realized Kaci’s bouquet wasn’t made out of flowers.

  He shot out of his chair. “Stop!” The DJ reached one. Kaci squeezed her eyes shut and flung the lollipops, and Jackson muttered something his own momma would’ve preferred he didn’t say in polite company.

  The bouquet sailed over the single ladies who rose and jumped and crashed into each other with all the grace of Auburn fans doing the wave, but the bouquet kept on flying over all of them.

  The men all skittered back, leaving a clear view of where the bouquet was headed.

  “Anna!” Jackson hollered. “Duck!”

  In the span of two heartbeats, she twisted her shoulders toward him, then back toward the bouquet. Her shriek split the air. The crowd gasped. Her knees bent. She flung her arms up, but it was too late.

  The glob of lollipops smacked her upside the head.

  She teetered. In the span of his next two heartbeats, Jackson made a whole host of promises to God if she’d be okay.

  It took him an eternity too long to get to her through the crowd. Somebody had shoved a chair beneath her. Cheri was talking to her. Jackson squatted in front of her. “Anna Grace? You okay?”

  She blinked at him, eyes not quite focused. A red welt was already forming on her temple. He brushed his thumb over it, then down her soft cheek. “Anna Grace?”

  She blinked a couple more times, her chest evening out into a more normal rhythm. Finally, she looked straight into his eyes. “I need some Windex,” she said.

  He crushed her against him, breathing in the soft scent of her shampoo. “You got it, darlin’.”

  “Jesus, Anna, are you all right?” Her ex elbowed in.

  “I got this one.” Cheri stood and faced the captain. “You sit there and work on feeling better.”

  “Oh, Lordy, sugar.” Kaci finally made it through the crowd herself. Lance was right behind her.

  Anna pushed herself straight, then blinked at the bouquet in her hands. “Shit.”

  “We’ll strap that to a firecracker too,” Kaci said. “You okay? I’m so sorry, sugar. I practiced and everything, but then the flowers got all messed up, and somebody handed that to me, and my momma’s driving me so nuts I wasn’t thinking.”

  “My wife needs a doctor,” Anna’s ex said to Cheri.

  Kaci twisted her head. Then she blinked. Then she stood and looked Anna’s ex up and down.

  “Oh, shit,” Anna said again. She looked at Jackson and winced. “Sorry.”

  He winked at her. “Don’t worry. My momma didn’t hear.”

  “Who are you?” Kaci said to the idiot.

  “I—”

  “You crashing my wedding?” She stomped a slipper that took her four feet closer to the captain. “’Cuz I’ve heard what you do at weddings, and I ain’t got no use for that.”

  “Kaci,” Anna said.

  “She needs a doctor,” the captain tried again, but under Kaci’s stare, the yahoo went green.

  Kaci glanced at Jackson, then back to the captain. “You ever see combat?” she asked. She flicked at his four medals that clearly stated he hadn’t. “I reckon she’s in about the best hands she could be right now, so you go on and fix yourself a plate, then go on and sit in the corner and eat it, then you go on and get out of here before I tell my momma about what you like to do at weddings. You seen my momma yet? You ain’t seen a Southern woman mad ’til you seen my momma dealing with wedding crashers who make the kind of toasts you do, and that ain’t a sight I reckon the likes of you will live through.”

  “Anna?” the captain said. “Look, sweetheart—”

  “My wife was polite about it,” Lance said, “but I won’t be.”

  “Won’t look good when this gets back to your commander,” Cheri said. The steel in her eyes belied her easy posture.

  Jackson almost felt sorry for the guy.

  “I’m only letting you all handle him because my head hurts,” Anna said.

  He laughed out an exasperated sigh. “Darlin’, it’s being handled because you picked the right friends. Same as doing it yourself in my book. You getting sleepy?”

  Worry lines branched from the corners of her eyes, but her pupils were fine. Even had some spark to them again. “Adrenaline crash,” she said. Her gaze followed her ex disappearing into the crowd. “I’ve got half a mind to ask your momma to have a go at him.”

  “I swear to sweet baby Jesus, if one more ex-husband shows up at this wedding, I’m strapping him to a firecracker,” Kaci said. “Anna, sugar, you all right? For real?”

  Forming that pretty smile seemed to perk Anna up. Did wonders for Jackson too, truth be told.

  “I have three nephews. Not my first bump on the head. I’ll be fine.”

  And Jackson found that Anna’s being okay meant more to him than getting pie tonight.

  ANNA WAS A MESS. Her temple throbbed, she was beyond embarrassed, and she’d run through at least three cycles of being furious with Neil, then furious with herself, and then back to furious with Neil.

  All this Southern gentility had gone to her head. In retrospect, it was clear she should’ve asked him to step outside before dinner, racked him, and dumped him in the bathroom for a janitor to find.

  Much less messy.

  And on top of it all, she was afraid Jackson had stuck around only because his momma would�
�ve had his hide if she had heard he abandoned a lady in distress.

  She obviously wouldn’t be stripping him out of anything tonight.

  There went her fury again.

  Jackson returned to his seat beside her. If he noticed she’d moved from sorting the rainbow mints to lining up the random wedding-shaped silver confetti sprinkled around the candle centerpieces, he didn’t comment. He plunked another cake plate in front of her, this one with actual cake on it. Three ketchup packets too. “Kaci’s orders,” he said. “She threatened to tell my momma some very uncomplimentary stories if I didn’t bring it over for you.”

  Anna managed a small smile. “Thank you.”

  “I’m right proud of you, Anna Grace. Using your manners and everything.” The sparkle in his eyes wasn’t as bright, and he couldn’t seem to look away from the spot on her temple that was currently throbbing. “Sure you don’t want anything for that?”

  She shook her head. The motion sent a stabbing sensation through her brain. “I’ll take something when I get home.”

  So much for her overnight bag.

  Jackson’s eyes narrowed. His shoulders shifted back.

  Man-mode. Southern gentleman mode. She stifled a sigh and squeezed her eyes shut.

  “My daddy died in a car accident,” he said. “I’d rather you didn’t drive tonight.”

  Oh.

  Vulnerable wouldn’t have made her top-fifty list of things she knew about Jackson, but it was etched across his face clear as a Minnesota winter sky. She touched a shaky hand to his cheek. “You’re a good man.”

  “Not always.” He pulled her fingers to his lips for a gentle kiss, then tucked her hand back down onto the table.

  Right. Moment over. Because they weren’t about moments.

  They had an expiration date. Not that it mattered if they never started something.

  “I’ll get a room here tonight,” she said.

  He blew out a heavy breath. His lips thinned and he tucked his hands under his arms.

  Anna fought the smile, but it felt too good that she wanted to smile, so she gave up and let it through. “Does your momma know you cuss like that in your head?”

  “Eat your cake and take your ketchup.”

  It wasn’t pie, but The Harrington made a mean cake. The cake part was as fluffy as cotton candy, but not nearly as sweet, which balanced nicely with the berry filling and buttercream frosting. It made the ketchup shots unnecessary. She was licking the last of the frosting off her fork when she saw one of the older bridesmaids making eyes at Jackson.

  He didn’t seem to notice, but she suspected he didn’t miss much. “You don’t have to sit here with me if you want to go enjoy yourself.”

  “She’s eyeing your bouquet.” His gaze didn’t waver from the crowd on the dance floor.

  “Actually,” Anna said, “I think she’s looking for a different kind of lollipop.”

  She’d made him blush. That didn’t happen often.

  “No more cake for you.” A dimple peeked through. “How’s your head?”

  “Pretty much still aches like a mother.” She pushed her plate back. It wasn’t quite eight o’clock yet, and Kaci and Lance showed no inclination to leave their party anytime soon. They were leading a conga line around the room, probably because the suggestion had made her mother turn purple.

  “Think they’d mind if I bailed?”

  “Anna Grace.”

  Right. They’d mind if she stayed here nursing a headache on a sugar rush in a loud room.

  Jackson stood. “You gonna let me help?”

  “No.”

  “You’re a right stubborn woman, you know that?”

  “I have a headache and a credit card. You’ll have more fun out there.”

  But she accepted his help out of her seat. Not because she needed it but because he offered, and she appreciated his patience with her.

  She also would’ve appreciated knowing when she could offer him pie again. Maybe it wasn’t supposed to happen.

  He insisted on walking her out. When he’d confirmed for himself that Neil wasn’t lurking in any corners—not that she asked or he confessed—he let her go by herself to the reception desk.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am,” the honey-voiced desk clerk said four minutes later, “we’re all sold out tonight.” She flicked a hand toward a group of wedding guests. “The wedding and parents’ weekend on campus have us booked.”

  Anna propped her elbow on the marble countertop and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Not even one room? Don’t you always hold one or two back for special circumstances? I got beaned with the bridal bouquet and shouldn’t drive home.”

  “Yes, ma’am, usually, but the college president came in an hour ago with some distinguished guests.” She dropped her voice. “I’m not supposed to talk about it.”

  “How about a broom closet?”

  “I’d be happy to call the Camp Inn down the road for you.”

  “Maybe I can help.”

  Neil’s voice made Anna’s shoulders bunch. “I’ve got it, thanks.”

  Slick shoes shuffled against the tile floor beside her. “Look, Anna, I’ve handled today poorly.”

  “Just today?”

  The hotel clerk cleared her throat and slid away. Neil tugged on his cuffs. “Let me make it up to you.” He slid a flat key-card onto the counter. “Take my room.”

  Anna’s neck muscles hurt from holding her head upright. A haze of exhaustion crept into her vision. “No, thank you.”

  “It’s my fault you got hit. You should take my room.”

  The normal cocky tilt to his head was gone, replaced with a humbler straight-on hazel plea for something she didn’t have the stamina to interpret. She signaled the clerk. “Do you have a number for a taxi service?”

  “That’s not necessary.” Neil shifted again, but his lips settled into an unfortunately familiar rigid board, his voice tight. “If you won’t take my room, let me drive you home.”

  More familiar. In a car. In the dark. With Neil. Driving home from a celebration. Unwelcome nostalgia made her nauseous. “I can take care of myself.”

  “You always could. That’s one of the things I love about you.”

  He what?

  “Look, I know you’re tired, but I’d really like to talk.”

  Oh, Lordy, he’d pulled out the earnest puppy face. And aimed it at her.

  As he had on the night he proposed.

  He took her by the elbow. She gulped back something that tasted like diseased strawberries. “Neil. Stop.”

  He stepped close enough for the mingled odors of wet hog and rotten peaches to seep into her nose. She covered her mouth, but still found her face squished into the front of his tuxedo shirt. “Anna, I was wrong. I miss you so much. Baby, I’m falling apart without you.”

  Voices lingered somewhere nearby, but whoever it was either didn’t notice or didn’t care that Anna was suffocating in the scent of Neil’s body wash. She wrenched away from him. Her head teetered on her neck. Her temper teetered on something significantly less solid. “Take it back.”

  “I can’t. I screwed up, and I’ll do whatever it takes to get you back. You want kids? You want me to get out? Anything. You name it.”

  Her voice wasn’t as steady as her knees, and those were about to buckle. “I want to go home, by myself, to my label maker.”

  A woman who hadn’t been married to him for six years might’ve missed it, but she caught the way his right nostril flared at the mention of her label maker. The slight movement set loose a fresh volcano of anger. She pointed a shaky hand at the door. “Get out.”

  “I love you.”

  “If you love me, you will turn around, walk out that door, and never, ever bother me again.”

  “Anna—”

  “No. Don’t Anna me. You don’t get to say my name. You don’t get to be in my life. You gave me up. You left me here. My world does not revolve around you and what you want. Not anymore.” Her voice was high and unst
able, and she hated that she had to swipe at her eyes. “I had plans for tonight. I was going to go home with a really funny, decent, honorable guy, and instead, I’m stuck here talking to you. We’re not even married anymore, and you’re still ruining my sex life.”

  Eyes wide, he worked his jaw up and down.

  Exactly like the first pet they’d picked out together.

  She slugged him in the arm. “And you haven’t asked about Walker. You want to have kids? You can’t even remember your fish. Grow up, Neil. Grow up, and get out of my life.”

  She stalked past him. He made another grab for her arm. “Where are you going?”

  “To get a ride home from someone I trust.”

  His grip tightened. “You think you know enough about him to trust him?”

  “Of the two men who’ve offered me rides home tonight, he’s the one who’s never broken a promise to me.”

  The weariness in Neil’s sigh combined with the tremble of his chin almost broke her indignation. “Let go,” she said.

  He loosened his grip finger by finger. “Maybe this was a bad time.”

  She flung her purse over her shoulder. “There was never a good time.”

  Anna blinked back the stinging in her eyes and stalked back toward the party. Alone.

  She rounded the corner onto velvety carpet, and the click of her heels on marble faded away. The catering staff were cleaning the tables around the makeshift bar. Further, by the ballroom door, Jackson and Cheri were laughing at something.

  Anna slowed.

  Maybe he’d found something better to do after all.

  But then he glanced her way. The smile slid right off his face. He moved toward her, and all she saw was six solid feet of highly intelligent, well-trained intimidation.

  Her steps faltered. The normal strawberry taste in her mouth morphed into something richer. Internal suction pulled her ribs into her chest. Maybe a cab was a better idea.

  But then he grabbed her into a fierce hug, cupped the back of her neck, and between the hint of Old Spice and the feel of his heart hammering through his uniform, she discovered she could take a real breath again.