“He didn’t think I’d marry him without a prenup, did he?”
“The man’s a big fish in a little pond there at the university. He’s got the book learning, but he’s a little naïve. I was surprised you chose him over some of the others.”
“You mean: of the four grooms you picked out for me? Do you think the others would have been happy with the prenup?”
“I think Halston Ferguson,” he named the agribusiness-man, “would have understood business is business.”
That was true. “So what do you mean you’re done with helping me?”
“He was the one you wanted. I thought I’d sweeten the deal a little.”
Heat flooded her body. “You paid him?”
“Said I would as soon as the ring was on your finger.”
“How much? No, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know.” The amount wasn’t important. What mattered was that she had been trying to accede to her grandfather’s wishes, to figure out a way to make some kind of marriage work and, at the same time, keep everything else going, while her grandfather had understood Blount’s real motivation for over a month. Hadn’t warned her. She never would have imagined that he had so little regard for her.
“Okay, I have to ask this: Why? Why on earth did you imagine paying him to marry me was helping me?”
“I gave you a year to find a husband. Time is running out. I don’t want to sell the business—that’s been in the family for five generations—out from under you. I was afraid if this one didn’t stick… and I had to follow through…” Lucas’s eyes fell. “Well, I was afraid I would lose you.”
He didn’t want to lose her? He should have thought of that before. Her grandfather’s intransigence stole her breath. She had hoped, had tried to believe he didn’t really anticipate what would happen if he destroyed the business. She wouldn’t be able to find pieces of their relationship large enough to pick up. She would never forgive him.
“If you don’t want to, then don’t!”
“No, I’ve made my decision. You’ve found a reason to turn down all the men I found for you. You’re on your own. But the deadline, November 27, stays the same.”
JJ hadn’t believed her grandfather would relent—she knew him too well—and yet, the hope had always been there. Her mind worked frantically to find a solution while the strange, cold numbness she had lived with for the last year solidified.
She had been trying to hold everything together and, in spite of the distance that had grown between her and Lucas, to salvage what she could of their relationship. Blount had seemed to be the best compromise between bowing to her grandfather’s will and keeping Caruthers firmly anchored.
She had been mistaken in Blount, but her grandfather had known for a month what the man really wanted. He hadn’t warned her when, maybe, there would still have been time to change course. Only one conclusion was possible. Lucas didn’t care what kind of man she married as long as he got his way. Whether she saved Caruthers or not, there wasn’t anything to salvage between her and Lucas. There was only one good thing about it. She didn’t have to worry any more about what he thought about anything.
Freedom, as the old Kris Kristofferson song said, was just another word for nothing left to lose.
Chapter 19
TO CALL THE PLACE HAM LIVED A CABIN WOULD BE TO flatter it past recognition. It was a shack. To reach it, JJ turned off the highway onto a blacktop that wound its way through pine and holly thickets. She continued onto another, narrower blacktop where small unprepossessing fishing cottages could be seen through the thick, leaning trunks of yaupon.
Ham’s packed sand-and-oyster-shell driveway could be hard to spot. JJ slowed, keeping an eye out for his truck, to make sure she didn’t pass it.
Having been built with no thought to aesthetics, weathered until it was the same gray as the leaning yaupon under which it crouched, and half-hidden by veils of Spanish moss, Ham’s house was almost invisible. Even when found, it gave the impression of something that grew there, rather than a human habitation.
JJ had taken her grandfather to task once when she was sixteen or so for “allowing” Ham to live as he did.
“This is the best Ham can do,” Lucas had explained. “He stripped off civilization to survive in Vietnam. He was never able to put it back on again. He’s fine as long as someone manages the interface with society for him. At least he’s not homeless. And he hasn’t committed suicide.”
Ham put it more simply. “I got what I want, JJ. Any more’n what you want is a burden.”
He rarely went on binges anymore—in the last several years, not at all—but the arrangements he and her grandfather had made many years ago continued. Her grandfather cashed Ham’s disability check and gave him only the amount that would get him through a week. JJ wasn’t sure if Ham understood that her grandfather paid the taxes on his property and had the utility companies notify him whenever Ham’s accounts went past due.
Ham appeared beside the car as soon as the crunch of the wheels on the drive stopped. He had a way of doing that, as if he materialized.
“Esperanza was throwing out some sheets and things, Ham, so I thought I’d see if you could use them.”
Ham dipped his head in acknowledgment. “All right.”
That was Ham. He wasn’t ungrateful, she knew. It was just that he had come to a profound acceptance that in life, things come and things go.
“Well, I’ll get back to town then.”
“You come out here just to give ’em to me? I’ll be at the house day after tomorrow.”
“You gave a dog the blankets off your bed—because of me. It didn’t seem right for you to do without. Nights are getting chilly now.”
“JJ, you done the right thing. Gettin’ rid of that parasite.”
“Parasite?”
“A man like that will eat you from the inside. I told Lucas to leave it alone.”
“You knew Lucas offered him money to marry me?”
“Know about the whole thing. Lucas don’t like to drive at night anymore. He calls me to come get him, take him around. Never thought I’d be sixty-five and be the young one.” The fan of lines around his eyes deepened. “Never thought I’d live to see sixty-five at all.”
“You know he’s going to sell Caruthers if I don’t get married?”
“Yep. Stupid-ass thing to do. Told him so. Told him it was time to let you grow up. Let you go your own way. Stop trying to mold you.” He looked her up and down, a frank masculine twinkle in his eyes. “You look molded to me.”
“I hate him.”
“Yep. Told him that, too.”
“What am I going to do?”
“Figure out what matters. You made a start with dog-man. People are like cups. Some are sixteen-ounce super-Slushee size. Some are little ketchup cups at Hardee’s. Don’t matter. Brimmin’ over is brimmin’ over. Get it?”
JJ didn’t. “Are you saying I’m trying to take on more than my capacity?”
“I’m saying you’ve had your eye on one thing all your life—that’s Caruthers. You’ve been and done whatever your grandparents said you had to do to fit yourself to it. I’m saying you ain’t never measured your capacity.”
Chapter 20
“JJ,” KELLY AT THE CONCIERGE DESK SAID, “MRS. BABCOCK is here and would like to see you.”
JJ tore her eyes from the computer-screen display of the last quarter’s sales, which were finally showing some turnaround. For three months last winter, she’d taken out loans to meet payroll, and there had been more months when the cash flow was so tight she hadn’t paid herself. They’d held it together though. She hadn’t laid off anyone. Now they were so close, so close, to being solidly in the black again. It made the thought of Caruthers being scuttled and sold for scrap doubly poignant.
She had returned to Caruthers after leaving Ham because, really, what else was there to do? Until it wasn’t hers anymore, she had the responsibility to stay at the helm. Tomorrow, she’d try to cobble toge
ther a plan that would take care of her people. She knew what a lame duck felt like.
“Lauren Babcock?” she asked.
“That’s right,” Kelly confirmed. “She wants you to show her some cars.”
Lauren was her landlord, the owner of the Topsail Beach cottage, and also a longtime and loyal Caruthers customer. JJ always felt a little hot lick of satisfaction that Lauren, who could have bought cars anywhere, preferred to deal with them. If she wanted the VIP treatment, she would get it.
JJ wouldn’t have said they were friends, but she liked Lauren, even though they rarely saw one another. When Lauren’s daughter died unexpectedly, JJ had sent flowers and a handwritten condolence note. She’d seen Lauren at Mary Cole’s daughter’s wedding but had neglected to speak to her and so had written again. Come to think of it, that wedding was the last time she’d seen Lauren. But she’d heard her name mentioned just this last weekend, and now here she was. JJ searched for the word for that kind of meaningful coincidence. Synchronicity.
“Lauren!” JJ held out her hands to the woman standing in the square of yellow sunlight the two-story windows threw across the black polished granite of the showroom floor. Lauren had been a fashion model as a young woman and still knew how to find the best light and arrange her limbs so that even standing still, she looked dramatic and dynamic.
“Lauren, I hardly know what to say!” How did one say, You look better than I’ve seen you look in a couple of years without sounding grudging or offering, at best, a backhanded compliment. The gray look of dissipation was gone, as was the hard, glossy shell she’d worn before Danielle’s death. “You look so… beautiful,” she finished lamely.
“Better than the last time you saw me?” Lauren met the issue head-on with a wry smile.
“Yes.” There was no point in denying that grief and drinking had taken their toll on Lauren’s looks when last JJ saw her. “You’ve always been beautiful, and now you look healthy, too. I’m glad.”
“Stopping drinking will do that. I’ve been sober for eleven months now.”
“Good for you.” JJ quickly did the math. Eleven months ago was significant for her, too. It was when her grandfather had struck her—she’d never be able to think of it in any other way—with his ultimatum. “So, you stopped right around last Thanksgiving? Did seeing Jax remarry the Saturday after Thanksgiving have something to do with quitting?”
For the first time, Lauren seemed embarrassed. Her lovely hazel eyes clouded. Still, after a brief internal struggle, she answered. “Only indirectly. I was drunk that night. One of the wedding guests, a SEAL who didn’t even know me, told me how disgusting I was.”
“Ouch.”
“Yes. He was completely heartless. He said I was a lousy grandmother.”
“That’s not true!” JJ rushed to her defense. “You’ve always adored Tyler. You would do anything for him.”
“Thanks. But when I finally took a look at myself, I agreed with him. No matter how much I drank, it wasn’t going to make the pain of losing Danielle go away. I wasn’t thinking about how much Tyler needed me, only how much I needed him. I let him down. I’m not going to do that again, though. And I’m not going to let Jax Graham keep me away from my grandson.” Lauren visibly shook off the darkness of the past.
“But I didn’t come here to tell you my story. I’ve rented an apartment in Virginia Beach to be near Tyler. However, he’s outgrown the car seat I had for him. I need a new car seat for Tyler, and I thought I’d get a new car to go with it.”
“Only you.” JJ laughed and shook her head. “Wait. Are you saying you came all the way from Virginia Beach to buy a car from Caruthers?”
“Of course.”
“Oh, Lauren, I’m touched. And honored. When dealerships are going under right and left, it means a lot that you would go out of your way to deal with us.”
“Not so far. Tyler’s out of town anyway so I couldn’t see him, even if I stayed in Virginia Beach. Since I had business in North Carolina, I decided to combine it with a trip here.” Lauren dropped her social smile. “I, um, I kind of needed to see a friendly face. The note you sent… It arrived after I went into rehab, and they held all our mail, so I didn’t see it until after Christmas. I have so many amends to make to so many people—I can’t tell you how much it meant to know I wasn’t forever beyond the pale to at least one person.”
JJ squeezed Lauren’s fingers. “Well, I’m still honored by your loyalty. Okay, what kind of car are you looking for? You’re going to get the very best deal and the best service Caruthers can offer.”
They stopped at the concierge desk to get sunglasses. “Kelly, I’ll be out on the lot with Mrs. Babcock. I’m going to forward my calls to you,” JJ said punching numbers into her cell. “Hold everything for me, will you?”
“Uhh…” Kelly looked uncomfortable.
“What is it?”
“You have a call holding right now. It’s Dr. Satterfield. I told him you were with a customer, but he demands I interrupt you.”
JJ had expected Blount to call sooner or later. Little as she wanted to talk to him, she guessed she owed him a “closure talk,” but trust him to go through the switchboard so there would be no chance of keeping things private.
“Tell him you’ve talked to me. Tell him I’m aware of his call and will call him back as soon as I can.” JJ smiled with more confidence than she felt. “He understands that at Caruthers, customers come first.”
“So how are you?” Lauren asked as they walked between the rows of gleaming automobiles. “I heard you’re engaged.”
“Not exactly. I thought I was ready to say yes, but he turned out to be a man I couldn’t marry.”
Lauren pulled dramatic black-framed reading glasses from her Prada handbag. She carefully adjusted the sunglasses over them and leaned forward to study the sticker on a car window. “Why not?”
“He was marrying me for my money.”
“The louse,” Lauren murmured without heat. She moved to the next car. “I’ll say one thing for my ex-son-in-law. He didn’t marry Danielle for her money. And believe it or not” —she trailed a finger down the accessories list—“I didn’t marry Daniel Babcock for his money. Everyone thought I was a trophy wife, but I honestly thought I loved him. Still, once the romance wore off, I’ll admit I stayed because of Danielle—and the money.” Lauren’s light hazel eyes swept JJ up and down in a measuring glance. “You don’t look brokenhearted.”
“I’m not. It doesn’t excuse Blount, but I was being a hypocrite, too. I led him to believe I wanted a real marriage, but really, of the men I knew, he seemed the most likely to go his way and let me go mine.” JJ sucked in a big breath and let it out. “It feels good to tell the unvarnished truth.”
To JJ’s surprise, Lauren chortled. “Oh, my darling, if what you want is a husband you won’t have to see much of, what you need is a SEAL!”
“A Navy SEAL?”
“Trust me on this.” Lauren’s voice shook with amusement. “Danielle always said, ‘Being married to Jax was almost the same as being divorced from him.’”
In the end, they didn’t find a model with all the features Lauren was looking for. Once Lauren had selected the correct-sized child seat for Tyler, JJ turned Lauren over to a salesman who would receive the commission to help her write up a factory order.
With Lauren’s laughingly tossed-off words seemingly stuck on an endless tape loop in her head, JJ went up to her office where, for once, she closed the door. She turned off her phone. She sat at her desk and held herself just as still as she could.
If what you want is a husband you won’t see much of, what you need is a SEAL.
The daring, the sheer recklessness of the idea Lauren had put in her head, made sweat prickle in her hairline and left handprints on the desk blotter. Her heart pounded. Her entire body shook with each thud. She wanted to laugh. She wanted to yell.
She recognized her impulse to throw caution and good sense to the winds as hysteria-driven. Every
thing she knew about him told her less likely husband material there never was, but really, she wasn’t wife material either. The very first time she had needed to compromise with Blount, to find common ground and work together, she had blown it.
If what you want is a husband you won’t see much of, what you need is a SEAL.
As it happened, she knew a SEAL. Having talked with her friend Mary Cole this morning, she even knew where he was. Knowing where a SEAL was, she gathered from Lauren, was an accomplishment in itself.
So she might be inviting disaster. So? The tsunami was going to tear loose the moorings of everything she cared about anyway.
Why not?
Why the hell not?
Chapter 21
IT WAS HER! SITTING ON THE BIG, RED FLOWERED SOFA that occupied the center of Pickett’s living room. It was… dammit, her name had taken unauthorized leave again. He’d been able to remember it an hour ago, and now it was gone again. And he was so gobsmacked to think that by some magical somehow she had appeared that he couldn’t think of anything to say. Not Hello Beautiful, not How are you, not even What the hell is going on?
Then, cooler than cool, perfect features composed, magnificent rack framed by a contour-hugging red leather jacket, she raised emerald-green eyes and said, “I would like to marry you.”
Davy threw back his head and laughed. His scar, still new enough to be red, ached when the muscles in his cheek flexed. He didn’t let the pain hold him back; he laughed anyway. “This cannot be happening! Okay, where’d the guys hide the cameras?”
They had ragged on him all yesterday as they installed sinks, sanded drywall, and set cabinets and countertops in the bathroom Jax and Pickett were adding to Pickett’s Snead’s Ferry house. They thought it was a hoot that he had gone chasing after her and had come back empty handed. This practical joke was SEAL humor at its most inventive. They must have planned the whole thing for when he’d be alone in the house with Lon while everyone else went off to dive.
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