The two exchanged a look.
Honey held onto a chair for support. “Am I the last to know?”
“I doubt you’re the last to know,” Floyd said. “I found out about an hour ago, when Sally Pruitt called.”
“Sally Pruitt knew before me?”
Scarlett swallowed her laughter at the horror in Honey’s voice.
“Gavin and I wanted to tell y’all together. I never anticipated the media would leak the story before we could do that. I’m sorry.” She was appalled at how easily the lies flowed from her mouth.
“You do realize you’ve deprived me of the juiciest piece of gossip this town’s heard since 1998.” She lowered herself onto a chair and turned to Gavin. “That’s when the homecoming queen bribed the football team with cupcakes to win the crown. And when I say cupcakes, I don’t mean cupcakes. Capiche?” She gave him a knowing look.
“Molly Jean, stop bein’ so dramatic.” Floyd went to inspect the contents of the pot on the stove. When he lifted the lid, scents of garlic and basil floated around the kitchen.
“It’s not drama, Floyd.” She looked at him with wild eyes. “You don’t understand. I won’t be able to show my face at the beauty shop ever again. This happened in my own family—my own backyard—and I’m the last to know. I’ll be ruined.” She dropped her head into her hands.
Scarlett looked at Gavin to judge his reaction to this melodrama. He leaned against the counter smiling at Honey, and her stomach did a forward roll. That smile should come with a warning label. Caution: Panties may drop at the sight.
She almost passed out when he strolled over to her aunt to crouch down beside her. “Molly Jean, I’m Gavin, and it’s very nice to meet you.” He took her liver-spotted hand and kissed it.
She let out an honest to goodness titter. “Call me Honey, everybody does. Except for Floyd, he calls me Molly Jean when he’s mad at me, which is most of the time.” She gave Floyd a withering look.
“Ok. Honey, how about I take you to the beauty shop tomorrow, and you can introduce me to all the ladies? Would that help?”
She lit up like a kid with the key to the Skittles factory. “That would be perfect.”
Scarlett stood stunned. Where had this charming man come from? Since they’d met, Gavin had tried to seduce, intimidate and bribe her, all with varying degrees of success. Watching Honey melt into a puddle made her glad he’d never tried to charm her.
This soft, round woman in pink velour and enough blue eye shadow to spackle a wall wasn’t the sharp-edged, leather-clad, chain-smoking badass Gavin’s mind had created. She was about the cutest thing he’d ever seen, and he never used the word “cute.” He was surprised when the need to make things right for her propelled him to her side.
Honey looked over her shoulder. “Scarlett, you didn’t give the milk away before he bought the cow, did ya darlin’?”
Scarlett fumbled the glass she was retrieving from the cabinet. “Honey.”
Gavin coughed.
Floyd made a choking noise.
“It’s a perfectly reasonable question.” The older woman was all doe-eyed innocence.
Scarlett’s face flamed beet red. All she could do was sputter.
“I want to know if you remembered your raisin’.” She regarded Gavin. “I used to tell her all the time, men won’t buy the cow if they can get the milk for free.”
“Sound advice.” His somber tone matched hers.
Honey nodded. “It is.” She cut a look to Scarlett. “Girls these days give it away too easily. Now, my girl, she’s been raised right, but the fact that she hasn’t answered me has me worried. Did you lure her to the dark side with those smoky gray eyes?”
Scarlett slammed the glass onto the counter. “Oh, for heaven’s sake. No Honey, there was no milk given until the cow was sufficiently purchased. Happy?”
The older woman sat back in her chair supremely satisfied. “Yes, I am.”
Gavin laughed out loud. Damn, this woman was funny. Now he knew where Scarlett got her quirky sense of humor.
Floyd cleared his throat. Evidently, he was done with the cow and milk discussion. “Molly Jean, how many times do I have to tell you, your gun is for self-defense? Not for makin’ a point. I swear, Scarlett and I are gonna have to spend all our Sundays visiting you at the women’s prison if you’re not careful.”
“And Gavin.”
“Huh?” Floyd asked.
“If I get sent to the women’s prison, you, Scarlett and Gavin will come to visit me. He’s family now. Isn’t that right, Gavin?”
Gavin glanced at Scarlett. She suppressed a smile and shrugged, letting him know he was on his own. He pulled up the nearest chair and sat facing Honey. “Ah, sure Honey. If you get sent to prison, I promise to visit you every Sunday.” Damn, he hoped she never asked him to do anything illegal. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to tell her no.
She placed her plump hand on his cheek. “Such a good boy.”
Floyd rolled his eyes, and Scarlett said something from behind the refrigerator door that sounded suspiciously like butt-kisser.
“Yoo-hoo, where is everybody?”
A pretty woman, in her late forties, and a teenaged boy came into the kitchen. “What in the world is going on? Brody and I were mobbed at the gate. I thought someone was going to jump into the back of the truck. It was terrifying.”
Brody skidded to a stop. “You’re Gavin Bain.” His back pack slipped off his shoulder and dropped to the floor. “What…how… You’re Gavin Bain.”
Joyce glanced from Brody to Gavin. “You know him, Brody?”
Scarlett made her way to Gavin and placed her hand on his shoulder. “Joyce—”
“ScarlettmarriedarockstarinLassVegas!” Honey shouted.
“What?” Joyce looked around the room. As understanding dawned, a look of utter astonishment washed over her face.
Gavin braced himself for the next round of craziness that seemed to accompany the matrimonial announcement.
“Well…this is happy news. Surprising, but happy. Congratulations sweetie, I wish you all the joy in the world.” She hugged Scarlett and then reached her hand out to Gavin and gave his hand a good squeeze. “You’re a lucky man. Our Scarlett’s very special. I’m Joyce by the way, and this is my son Brody.”
“I’m Gavin. It’s nice to meet you both.” Good, Scarlett was watching. Who said he couldn’t be polite? Polite was his middle name, damn it.
Scarlett placed a glass of iced tea in front of her husband.
Gavin’s face lit with surprise. “Thanks.”
She didn’t know what the big deal was. She’d gotten one for herself, and good manners were just good manners. It didn’t mean anything. Aware of her family, she considered what a woman in love would do in this situation. She ran her fingers through his hair, looked longingly into his bottomless eyes, and leaned down to kiss the corner of his mouth. “You’re welcome.”
His expression warmed as he lifted her hand almost to his mouth, then turned it over and pressed his lips to the center of her palm.
Uh…whoa… Hel-loooo, girly parts!
Really? A kiss to the palm and the tunnel of love was open for business. Geez, she needed to get out more.
Honey put her hand over her heart. “Isn’t that the sweetest thing you’ve ever seen?”
“Adorable,” Floyd mocked.
Gavin drained his glass of tea then stood. He draped his arm around Scarlet’s shoulder, pulled her to him and squeezed a little too hard. “Well, babe, we better go deal with those reporters.”
“What’d you have in mind? Should I get my gun?” She smiled a beauty pageant smile. It was her turn to pour it on way too thick. Lord, if she had to keep this up for long, she was going to get a face cramp.
“Nah, we’ll let Deadeye handle that.” He winked at Honey, who beamed up at him like a sunflower on a summer morning.
Floyd groaned.
Joyce laughed.
“I thought we’d go down to the gate, say
hello and let them take a few pictures. Hopefully, they’ll leave after they get their pound of flesh.”
“Oh, okay.” She was glad she’d touched up her makeup earlier. “Should I change?”
“No. You look beautiful.”
His intense gaze was so sincere, it confused her. Could he be serious?
No way. It had to be part of the act. But then his calloused finger stroked her jaw, and she wasn’t sure what was true anymore. “Alright, if you’re sure.” She shook out her hands. “I’m nervous.”
“It’ll be fine.” He rubbed his hand up and down her arm.
It would be highly inappropriate if she purred, so she took a small step away from him.
“Before we go, I’m going to step outside and make a phone call.” He pulled his phone from his back pocket. “I hope I can get a cell signal out here in the boondocks.”
When he left the room, Honey fanned herself. “Scarlett, he is one good-looking man. Darlin’, what in heaven’s name are you doing?”
As soon as the door thumped shut, Scarlett sprang into action. When Gavin was checking the signal on his phone, she knew exactly what she was going to do. She ran to the pantry and grabbed the aluminum foil, and pulled off a long strip. Her hands worked quickly. She molded and crumpled the foil until her creation resembled a scepter.
She looked up. Three puzzled expressions begged for an answer. “Tell ya in a minute.”
She ran out the back door and jumped off of the porch.
She caught up with him at the side of the house. “Hey.”
“Yeah?”
“I forgot to give you this.” She waved the foil sculpture at him.
“What the hell is that?”
“We don’t get very good cell reception out here in the country. This helps. You hold it while you make your call.” She placed the foil in her right palm. It extended about ten inches toward the sky. Then she placed the phone in her hand, on top of the foil. The whole thing looked like a prop from a bad sci-fi movie. “See?” She giggled. “You might be a redneck…”
“Are you shittin’ me?”
“No. And watch your language.”
He stared at her for several long seconds. Seeming to come to some conclusion, he took the phone and foil from her. “Okay. Thanks.”
She painted on her I’m-so-wholesome-I-wouldn’t-lie-to-you smile. “Take your time. See you inside.”
When she returned to the kitchen, she saw her family, minus Brody, looking out the kitchen window. She hurried over to watch the show.
“Scarlett, darlin’, why is your husband holding a foil wand while talking on the phone?” Joyce said.
“I told him it was the best way to get cell reception out here.”
“We have fine cell reception,” Joyce said.
“I know, but Gavin’s made a few comments about how country we are. He’s only kidding,” she was quick to add, “but…well…I thought I’d play a tiny practical joke.”
She didn’t appreciate all his backwoods, hillbilly, boondocks comments, and it was payback time. It was childish, and under normal circumstances, she wouldn’t behave this way. But his presence threw her totally off kilter. It was time to level the playing field.
She bit her lip. “Too much?”
“Aww, darlin’,” Floyd said. “A little teasing is good in a marriage.”
Honey snorted, and then they all busted out laughing.
Just before the call went through, laughter erupted from inside the house. Gavin saw the whole family duck out of sight. They were weird. Was this normal behavior?
“Hello.”
“Hey, Jack. Did you make it to the airport?”
“Yeah, I’ve got a couple of hours to kill before my flight. How are things there?”
Gavin chuckled and looked back at the house. “They’re interesting. Her dad hit me.”
“What?”
“I’m fine, but he’s got a mean right hook. There’s this aunt who’s funny as shit, also a housekeeper and her son. Kid’s a fan.”
“Did you give him your autograph?”
“No. I told him to piss off.”
Jack’s laughter rang through the phone line. “You’re such a punk.”
“That’s what they say. Can you do me a favor when you get back to L.A.?”
“Sure, what do you need?”
Gavin rattled off a list of things he needed to have done if he wasn’t going to be at his condo for a while. Damn he was glad to not be going back to Los Angeles, even if it meant living in Mayberry for the foreseeable future.
“Gav, you still there?”
“Yeah, sorry.”
“Have you heard from Mac?” Jack’s tone was all business.
“Not since I gave him what information I had about Tara.”
“Don’t worry. He’ll find her.”
“And then what?”
“I know how important this is to you, Gav. Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out together.”
The crushing heaviness on his shoulders eased some. “Thanks, man.” He drew in a lungful of air and blew it out. “And thanks for your help today. Hopefully, the Storm Side guys will be appeased.”
“It’s under control. I’ll handle the spin. Tell me, where does a rock star learn a word like appease?”
Gavin swatted some kind of flying bug. “I read it on a bathroom wall, To appease your hard-on, call Mona.”
Jack laughed. “Anything else you need?”
“Nah, I’m good. If there’s a problem, I’ll rub some money on it. That seems to work around here.” He didn’t even try to hide his bitterness. “See ya, man.”
Gavin put his phone back in his pocket and looked at the foil antenna. His call to Jack was clear as a bell, so he guessed she’d been telling the truth. He looked at the vastness of the land around the house and wiped the sweat from his brow. Time to feed the beast.
Chapter 7
The Ford F-150 bounced into the air. Tools crashed as the bed of the truck slammed back to earth. Gavin gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. He was going to keep this mother on the road or die trying. It was a matter of pride. Looking like an idiot in front of his wife, even his fake wife, sucked. Another big bump and Scarlett braced her hand on the roof of the cab to keep from smacking her head. Damn it.
“Slow down, Gavin. You’re going to bust the axle.”
“Luanne flew down this drive in a doll-sized convertible. How’d she manage it?” He clutched the wheel even tighter and took his foot off the accelerator. The last thing he needed was to break his father-in-law’s truck.
“She knows this drive like the back of her hand. Stay toward the shoulder, and you should be fine.”
“Got it.”
“Oh, dear Lord,” she gasped.
Her panicked intake of air pissed him off. “I’m doing the best I can.”
“No. Look.” She pointed to the end of the drive. “There have to be fifty reporters.”
The sight of the shutterbugs and media made him want to cuss. Once upon a time, he couldn’t take a piss without a mob of paparazzi trying to get a shot of it. He didn’t want to bring that crap to this family’s doorstep. No one deserved to have their privacy violated in such an aggressive way, especially not a family like the Kellys.
Another sharp intake of air came from the passenger side of the vehicle. He’d managed to avoid any more potholes, so he understood that sound. He glanced at her. She was chewing on her lower lip, and it wouldn’t be long until she gnawed right through it.
“Don’t be nervous.” He spoke to her like she might cut and run. “Let me do the talking, and it will be over before you know it.” He eased off the gas and let the truck roll to a stop. She nodded, still riveted to the group at the gate. At least the lip gnawing had stopped.
“Most of the questions will probably center on what happened in Vegas. I’ll try to steer them away from that topic, but I doubt it will do any good.”
As she sucked her swollen lip bac
k between her teeth, the color drained from her face.
He took her sweaty hand and squeezed. “I’ve got this, Scarlett. Jack and I came up with a plausible story. We’ll tell them we met at the beginning of the week in a hotel elevator. It was love at first sight, blah, blah, blah. By Friday, we couldn’t live without each other.”
She shot him a look that clearly stated he and Jack were delusional. “I know, it’s not great, but it sounds better than we met in a bar, got drunk, and got married. Don’t you think?”
She bowed her head. “Yes.”
“Scarlett, look at me.” Her cornflower eyes brimmed with tears. “We screwed up. Both of us. We can’t change that. All we can do is try to walk away with as much dignity as we can.”
“Okay.”
The truck stopped about fifteen feet from the gate. “If you do have to answer a question, don’t panic. Bat those baby blues and turn on your backwoods charm.” He studied her for a minute. “Can you do a little Daisy Duke thing? Flip your hair. Put some extra ass-shake in your step?” He tapped the steering wheel as the idea took root. He eyed her conservative peasant top with the drawstring neck. “Loosen the tie on your shirt and let it fall off one shoulder. They won’t care what you say if you flash some skin.” He emphasized his point with a waggle of his brows.
“Maybe we should go back to the house so I can put on my push-up bra, halter top and denim panties?” She crossed her arms like she was suiting up for battle.
She could cross her arms all she wanted, but it was too late for him. The image of her dressed like that scorched his mind. It was hot. He might burn to ash right there in the cab of the truck.
A push-up bra and denim panties?
Damn.
Double damn.
He drew in a ragged wheeze. It was more difficult than it should be to get the correct amount of air in his system. His brain short-circuited. He didn’t even know what denim panties were, but he was wholeheartedly on board with the idea.
Cameras flashed through the windshield. The reporters’ squawking was muted, but he could still hear their questions. He needed to get his head out of her panties and onto the circling sharks waiting to eat them alive.
Brides on the Run (Books 1-4): Small-Town Romance Series Page 7