Tequila Makes Her Clothes Fall Off

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Tequila Makes Her Clothes Fall Off Page 21

by Cara North


  "Jack,” Heath called as he marched past both of them got in the truck and started it up.

  He didn't speak. He just laid on the horn until they moved. Then, much like Douglas, he hauled ass out of the garage then down the road.

  "Shit. Shit. Shit!” Heath threw down his hat. “You didn't tell him?"

  "No.” She sobbed. Holding herself up with her own arms, she looked at the mountain staring back at her. “I didn't want to marry him. I ran to Vegas. I thought I cut all ties. It didn't matter."

  "It does matter. Now, he thinks you cared about some asshole.” Heath let another stream of curses go, picked up his hat, then put an arm around her. “Come on. Nothing we can do now but wait and see how this plays out."

  As they walked inside, she realized why Jack had snuck in the front door in the first place. He had been around the back and picked a vase full of flowers for her. They sat on the counter. Like a slap in the face, the sight of them rocked her to the core. She should have told him. She should have told him everything. “I hate this. I hate myself for this!"

  She ran to the bedroom. Heath cursed again as she slammed the door behind her.

  * * * *

  Jack drove for about two hours then finally found himself in town. The Saloon was open and very inviting for his taste right now. Maybe a beer and a few country songs would take the edge off, and he could decide what to do tonight. How could she not tell him she was engaged? How in the world had his sweet little thing manipulated him so easily?

  Then, he thought of all the games she played in bed and wondered if she was not acting all along. Maybe all those little tears were just another performance. Madder than a wet hornet, he got out of the truck and headed into the bar.

  "Well, hey there stranger. Haven't seen you in a while.” Dolly smiled bright and then frowned as she took in his appearance. “Beer or whiskey, sugar, you look like you just walked through hell and back."

  "Beer.” He nodded and rested his head back against the booth. It was still relatively early, so one beer, a few songs, and he would get up and go to Heath or Rafe's for the night. He could not face her, not now. Not when he wanted to choke her as much as he wanted to kiss her. God, had Heath been feeling like this for almost a year now? How he managed to get out of bed was amazing.

  "Here ya go, Cowboy.” Dolly placed the long neck in front of him. Suddenly, he lost the urge to drink. He nursed it for about twenty minutes as the sounds from the jukebox soothed his soul.

  Just as he thought things were finally cooling off inside of him, the door opened and in walked the jerk who claimed to be his wife's fiancé with a couple other guys. No doubt he had not planned to come back alone but with thugs. How could she possibly have agreed to marry a pretty boy? He looked down at himself. He had spent all morning in the garden and then walked all over the damn place picking different flowers for her. What a fucking schmuck he had been. His dirty jeans and T-shirt, his hands rough and callused, where the hell did he get off thinking he could hold a girl like Bethany forever?

  She belonged with the pretty boy. Hell, she would not have to fight with a guy like him to get his feet in wax. He probably sat next to her at the salon! Son of a Bitch!

  "Hey.” Shit. He noticed him. Shaking his head, Jack tried to remember what Heath had said about a scandal before the season opened. People needed to feel safe on a ranch, not worried the owners would attack them. “You're the guy claiming to be Bethany's husband, right?"

  But they were not on the ranch now, were they?

  "I am her husband, and I'm in no mood for the likes of you, so turn around and head out.” He watched Dolly move to behind the bar. She had worked there long enough to smell trouble, and he had been in a scuffle right here, a time or two in his youth.

  "Look, pal, I know she's really played a number on you. She did the same to me, but I need to take her back home. Too much money is riding on it.” The man seemed to try and reason with him.

  "Do you love her?” Jack heard the words and had no idea how they jumped out of his mouth, but they had.

  "Love?” The man looked at him, seemed to think about it, then answered, “Sure, why not? I mean I love what she brings to the table for sure."

  "What the hell do you mean you love what she brings to the table? You either love her or you don't.” He pulled at the label on the bottle. He felt glad he had not made it through the first beer much less beyond it. His temper was on a short fuse, and one wrong word would set it off.

  "She hasn't told you either, huh? Good lord, no wonder she married you. She could hold out then take her money, probably yours too, and really run. Tricky little cunt."

  That was all it took. The man had just used the C word against his wife. Jack did not process getting up or getting across the floor, but he felt a great deal of pleasure when his fist connected with the man's jaw. Of course, he felt a great deal of pain as one of his flunkies’ fist connected with his right eye. He struck out at the other man and another one jumped on his back, punching him in the rib cage. He spun a few steps then heard a loud smash.

  The man slid off his back.

  Jack turned to see Dolly holding the neck on a beer bottle. She yelled look out, and he turned in time to block an oncoming punch from the first man. He barely noticed the warm trickle of blood from above his eye as the bar erupted into chaos.

  Time seemed to move in fast forward as the police barged in, halting everyone mid swing.

  "They started it, Buck!” Dolly shouted. “Came right in and ripped the place apart, damned city boys!"

  "Get a statement from Dolly, Pat.” Roy, Buck's older brother and the town's sheriff, stepped in behind Buck. “Damn, Buck, looks like you're trying to get a family reunion going on tonight."

  Jack looked at Roy and wondered what the hell had happened to make him say that. When he told Buck to cuff him, he tried to think of what Heath or Rafe would have done to get thrown in jail. Then, he thought of Bethany.

  "Buck, it's not Bethany, is it?” he asked as his brother-in-law shook his head and cuffed him.

  "Jesus, Jack, what the hell provoked you into this?” Buck started him out the door. “No, don't tell me because you have the right to remain silent and until we get in the car, I suggest you do just that."

  "No special treatment, Buck.” Roy winked at them.

  "I know my job, Roy,” Buck said as they headed out.

  Once he had him in the back of his patrol car, he called in the arrest then turned to look at him through the metal gate between them. “Off the record, what the hell is going on?"

  Jack explained the whole thing to Buck on the way to the station. Once there, he went back to being a sheriff's deputy and processed him like they were not brothers-in-law. “Sheila, call Bethany, tell her to come get Jack."

  "No, call Heath,” Jack pleaded.

  "Heath's already on his way.” She smiled and shook her head. “Boy ole boy, these are the days of our lives, and the reason I like the night shift."

  "What the hell? Is Rafe back there?” Jack asked as Buck took him to the holding cells.

  No sooner than he got in front of the first cell did he see what Heath was coming after. “Ho-ly Shit!"

  "Nice to see you too, Jack.” Chance looked at him with her big brown eyes and fire red hair.

  "Since you're family and we have more prisoners coming in, I hope you don't mind sharing the cell.” Buck let Jack in then unlocked his cuffs.

  "Buck, you called my sister, right?” Chance asked wearily as she looked at him. They had not seen each other since her wedding day.

  "You betcha', sweet thing.” Buck winked and gave her the finger gun gesture. “Now, you two play nice till I come back, okay?"

  "Can you call Rafe instead, please?” He hated begging, but he didn't want Bethany to pick him up in jail.

  Buck gave the same finger pistol and wink and laughed. Jack could have sworn he said something about being shot in the ass as he left.

  "So, what the hell happened to you?
” Chance asked.

  "Fight,” he answered and took a seat on a bench across from her. The cell was cold, but she wouldn't know since she was wrapped up in Heath's leather jacket. Boy was he going to be pissed! “Where have you been?"

  "Culinary arts school, where else?” Chance shrugged. He noticed she wasn't wearing her wedding rings, his grandmother's wedding rings, the one Heath had given her when they were engaged, and then the band on their wedding day.

  "So, they lock up chefs for what ... brandishing a paring knife?” Women, he knew now why Heath was bitter. He felt it, too.

  "Driving without a license,” she spoke low and off to the side, avoiding eye contact.

  "You have a driver's license, liar.” He let his head thunk against the cold concrete cell wall.

  "Yes, but not a motorcycle license,” she quipped then sunk lower into Heath's jacket. “I can't fucking believe this. I come every month to see Star, and I get caught tonight of all fucking nights."

  "What's so special about tonight?” Jack snorted. Just like a woman to think only of herself at a time like this. He wasn't surprised she was caught on a motorcycle. Chance was wild, wilder than he ever was. Her childhood was messed up, and it was a miracle she and her sister were as normal as they were. She settled down when she started dating Heath but then ran off on the night of their wedding.

  "One year to the date,” she said and buried her head in her knees. The long red locks fell around her, and he felt a moment of sympathy for the girl she once was. Then, it was gone. If he had not met Bethany and been crushed himself, he may have sided with her, again but no more. He knew now women were just treacherous. Women like his grandmother and mother were no longer in existence. He prayed his sister didn't do the same to the gentle giant she married.

  Jack closed his eyes and began to feel the onset of the burn and sting over his eye. The headache began pounding, and his ribs started to hurt. The more the adrenaline wore off the more he ached.

  * * * *

  "What the hell is going on?” Rafe asked as he entered the kitchen.

  "All hell has broken loose,” Jan answered. “Look, I have to find Heath. He needs to get down to the jail and pick up Chance. You need to take Bethany to pick up Jack's truck in town then show her where the jail is, so she can get Jack."

  Bethany watched Rafe's mouth open, close, then repeat the process again.

  "I know!” Jan said and laughed. “It must be a full moon, I swear. Look here, don't you get arrested because I can't take another call from Buck tonight."

  "I'll try not to.” He smiled. “Come on B. You can tell me what happened on the way."

  * * * *

  "Okay kid, follow me. And don't worry, he'll get over it.” Rafe hugged her tightly then let her go. Bethany started up the truck with the spare keys from the house and followed Rafe to the sheriff's office. Her heart pounded as he honked twice then pulled off. He really wasn't staying with her. He was really leaving her to handle Jack herself.

  She sat in the truck for a long while, mustering the courage to go in and face him. He looked so angry, so hurt. Was he drunk now? Shit!

  "Get out of the damned truck and go get him, Bethany,” she told herself aloud. With one more deep breath, she put herself in motion. The night breeze was clean and crisp. Sure enough, it was a clear sky overhead with a big fat full moon shining down on her. The steps to the old Sheriff's office were concrete, and though there were only four of them, it seemed like an eternity to climb to the top.

  Her feet felt heavy as her heart hammered in her ears. The door seemed to weigh a ton as she pulled it open. The fluorescent lighting made everything a little green in her opinion. It made her feel like she was in a scary movie and at any minute a monster would jump out. Douglas did.

  "Bethany! You little bitch. Look what your husband did to my face! I'll sue you and him and take every damn thing he owns!” Douglas shouted, and a man who looked a lot like Buck sat him back down on the bench with a little more force than was probably necessary.

  "Shut up!” He pointed at Douglas then turned to her. “Sorry. Cells are full."

  "No. Don't be.” Bethany thought about it, had been thinking about it all day long really. Douglas was there for one thing and one thing only, her shares of her father's business and the merger. “Can I talk to him?"

  "Why?” Buck asked as he stepped into the room.

  "He wants my shares, the shares my father gave me as a means of evading taxes on them. He wasn't counting on me actually reading the conditions and keeping them, but I did. Douglas’ family is trying to merge the businesses. They can't do it without me.” She sighed. Damn it all to hell. She should have signed it all over before she left, but how was she to know she would meet a man like Jack, and she wouldn't need her cash cushion much less her fall back plan?

  "I'll stand right here.” Buck eyed her wearily.

  "Thank you.” Bethany nodded then turned to Douglas. “You want the shares, not me. I'll make you a deal. I'll have my lawyer here tomorrow, and I will sign over the controlling stock of my shares if you sign a document stating you will take no action, public, legal, or otherwise against Jack, his family, or any extension thereof."

  "You should have been a lawyer.” Douglas sank down in his seat.

  "Look, I don't want it. Any of it. I want Jack, and you may have ruined any chance I have of keeping him, but I won't let you ruin his life, too.” She straightened her shoulders and nodded. “Take or leave it, but be warned, if you try to ruin him, I will destroy you and your company. I'll sell my shares to your biggest competitor and tell them every little secret my father thought he covered up."

  "You're an evil little bitch, you know?” Douglas smiled. “Why didn't you ever show me this side before? It's kinda hot."

  "Douglas?” She wanted to punch him in his already swollen lip.

  "Fine. I'll apparently be right here till tomorrow.” He rolled his eyes.

  "Fine.” She turned to Buck. “Okay. I'm ready for round two."

  * * * *

  "I'm not drunk. I can drive.” He hadn't said a word though it took all her might not to jump on him and cry when she saw his face, the blood and the bruising. He couldn't possibly feel like driving.

  "Your eye is almost swollen shut, Jack. Come on, be reasonable.” She sighed.

  "Whatever.” He climbed in the passenger's side and buckled in. He didn't look at her or say one word the entire ride home. Her gut clenched, and she could feel a loss washing over her. Her heart ached, and she wondered if he felt the same or if she would need her cash fund to start over after all.

  The truck had barely stopped when he hopped out and headed into the house. She got out, fed the dogs, patted them on their heads, and promised them he was okay though she doubted anyone believed her at the moment. Not even herself.

  When she opened the door, he was downing shots of Patron. Why he did not just tip the bottle was a mystery.

  "Don't you think you should..."

  "Oh no. You don't tell me what I should think about anything, anymore. My head hurts, my eye is busted, my ribs feel like they are caving in, and I want to sleep tonight. This will take care of me. You, on the other hand, just steer clear of me for a while. Understand?” His eyes looked sorrowful even as he threatened her. His brows drew down, and his frown intensified.

  "Fine.” Bethany nodded. Like a scolded dog, she walked out of the room and up the stairs to the loft. Maybe once he settled in he would be more approachable.

  Hours passed, and at two in the morning, her eyes burned from the computer glare. Finally, she walked into the bedroom. Jack laid in the center of the bed, still dressed, boots and all. He was dirty, and she knew why. He had been working and then picked those flowers, which were thrown in the trash she noticed as she grabbed him a bag of ice for his eye, a glass of water, and some Tylenol for his head in the morning. Setting the glass and medicine next to the lamp on his nightstand, she surveyed the big man. Tears stung her eyes at the sight of him. He had
been fighting over her.

  She walked to the end of the bed and pulled his boots off then his socks. Jack normally woke easily, but he was snoring loud and didn't seem to notice as she pulled his T-shirt up and struggled to get it off of him. His big arms weighed a ton as dead weight, but she managed. She wet a warm washcloth and tended the cut on his eye. He did flinch a little. She avoided a blind swat as he attempted to get whatever was touching his eye away from it in his sleep. She smiled. The antiseptic must have stung.

  After putting a small bandage in place, she kissed his forehead. Unable to resist, she placed a feather light kiss on his lips. She felt the sobs coming and didn't want to wake him, so she left the room. Climbing the stairs to what would have been their children's rooms if everything had not gone to hell in a hand basket, she wondered if she was the only one feeling the deepest regrets of her life.

  Crawling into the bed, she hugged the pillow and let it go. Eventually, she cried herself to sleep.

  * * * *

  Opening his eyes, Jack realized a couple of things right away. It was still dark out, he was not wearing his shirt and boots anymore, and his eye felt a little better. He felt around and realized she was not in bed with him. He sat up, winced as his ribs protested the motion, flipped on the light, and saw a glass of water and some pills. Damn, he felt like shit.

  He went to the bathroom, relieved himself, stripped out of the jeans though his ribs really protested against the motion, took the pills, then searched the house for Bethany. When he found her in Rafe's old room asleep, his heart hurt more than all his body aches combined. The pillow she clung to was soaked through with what must have been her tears. He wanted to pull her up and hold her. He wanted to shake her and tell her how mad he was about her lying, but the more he thought about the man, who had come to claim her, the more he understood why she ran. No one had really ever loved her before.

  He knew her parents did not care. His mother had called him several times over the past month checking in and checking things out. She was coming in for the barbecue and to meet his new wife. God, what a mess things were going to be now! He pulled a curl away from her face and looked at her with just the hall light illuminating her features. “Why didn't you just tell me? Were you so afraid I wanted money more than you? How badly did I fail to earn your trust?"

 

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