All for Family (The Rawley Family Romances Book 3)

by Olivia Hardin

  At the moment though, Meg looked somewhat tired. There was still that unmistakable glint of welcome in her brown eyes. “I think my … husband’s over there talking to your date. I understand Geneva and Rhonda were in a sorority together.”

  He glanced over at his cousin who was leaning in close to the man to speak into his ear. It was hard to tell from this distance, but Jeremy thought she might even have licked the guy’s earlobe. Gritting his teeth, he turned back to the woman seated next to him.

  “Geneva is my cousin.”

  He’d made the declaration as if it explained everything, but that was far from the case. What did one say to a woman whose husband was being pawed at by your relative? He took another drink and suddenly wished the glass contained alcohol instead.

  “Ah, okay.” She nodded. He watched her smooth her dark shirt down with quick fidgety movements. Then she focused her attention on the bride-to-be. There was a little twitch in the corner of her eye, and he had the impression Meg was inwardly nervous as a cat on a hot tin roof. Outside, she was doing a fair job of playing it cool.

  He felt a twinge of sorrow for her. Geneva wasn’t one for discretion, so he shouldn’t necessarily be surprised by her actions. Still, coming on to a married man in front of his wife was so beneath their station that he really wanted to confront her and force her to leave.

  But doing that would only cause a scene. He wasn’t up for that at the moment, and he certainly didn’t want to put the poor woman sitting next to him through it either.

  “You’re in the wedding party?” he asked.

  Her eyes widened a moment as she turned her focus back to him. “Yes, I’m maid, er, matron of honor I guess. Rhonda and I’ve been friends since we were in elementary school.”

  It seemed like she had more she wanted to say, but instead she rubbed her hand down her stomach again, flattening out some imaginary wrinkles. The top she had on was a few sizes too big for her, hiding the curves he thought she must surely possess.

  He scratched his hands against his knees and forced his gaze away from her, searching the room for Geneva. After a few sweeps, he realized that his cousin was nowhere to be found. He pushed his chair out, about to stand.

  “Yeah, looks like everyone’s getting ready to leave. Do you know where the club is?” Meg asked, also getting out of her seat.

  “The club? No, I don’t.”

  “It’s not far from here.” She dug around in her clutch, emerged with a pen, then drew a little map. “So you’ll see it when you get onto Bender. The words Tango’s Tavern in bright green neon is hard to miss. Think you’ve got it?”

  He was distracted, still searching the room for Geneva, so when he turned to answer her question he was surprised to find her standing so close to him that they were almost touching. He gazed down at her and was struck again by the open kindness within her brown eyes. A stray curl had come loose from her messy updo and was dangling across her left eye. She tossed her head to the side to knock it out of her gaze.

  There was a sweet innocence in her expression as she gave him directions. “Perhaps I’m confused. Why am I going to—” He glanced down at her scribblings. “Tango’s Tavern?”

  “Why, the bachelor/bachelorette festivities, of course.” Then she shook her head and stepped aside so that she could push her chair under the table. “Oh, I know it makes absolutely no sense to me either, but Rhonda will have her way. She didn’t see any need for the guys to go partying separate from the ladies, so she planned for all of us to take over Tango’s.”

  His lips twitched as he fought not to smile when she leaned in close to share a secret. “The truth is that Rhonda’s incredibly jealous and doesn’t trust Ben’s friends not to get him into trouble. She thinks strippers are obscene. I think she’d have a heart attack if she found out some woman was giving her guy a lap dance. See you there.”

  Then Meg turned and headed for the door, stopping every few paces to talk to those she knew. He watched her until she was gone and then with a grumble under his breath went off in search of his errant cousin.

  A few hours later, Jeremy finally walked into Tango’s Tavern. It was a fancy bar with a pretty large dance floor. The place was so crowded, it was hard to make his way through. He scanned the crowd, searching for familiar faces and finding a few, though not the one he was looking for at that moment.

  “You made it, huh?” A hand touched his elbow even as a woman’s voice called out to him.

  “Yes, yes, I did,” he told Meg, glancing down at her.

  “I guess I suck at directions if you got so lost it took you two hours to get here.”

  “I, uhm . . .” He cleared his throat. “Your directions were fine.”

  He noticed Meg’s eyes continually cutting to the dance floor, and when he looked, he finally saw the person he’d been searching for. Geneva was gyrating, her back to Raymond Slack’s front and her hands reaching up behind her to hold him close. He swallowed and shook his head.

  When he glanced back at Meg, he saw that she had a longneck in one hand, and he found his mouth watering for one, too. It was a shame he didn’t like beer because he could certainly have used one at that moment. His tension level was sky high, and he thought his head might explode at any moment.

  “She’s the reason, huh? You were looking for her?”

  Jeremy inclined his head in the affirmative, then scanned the bar for an available table. There was one about five feet from the dance floor and if he moved quickly he thought he might get it before someone else got the same idea.

  “Shall we?” He motioned, and when Meg nodded, he placed his hand at her waist and led her along.

  When they were seated, he flagged down a waitress and quickly put in an order for bourbon, no water, no ice.

  “Rough night?”

  He only grunted a response.

  The music and noise in the club were overwhelming, but she managed to talk so that he could hear her. “Call me crazy, but you don’t seem to be enjoying any of this very much. Why exactly are you here?”

  She had her chin in her hand, leaning in close to stare at him as she awaited his answer. The expectant look in her eyes suggested she truly did care to hear his response. Jeremy gritted his teeth and considered what to say. He had the urge to spill the truth, but he didn’t know this woman and his family business was his.

  He raised his eyes back to the dancing throng of people. Geneva had switched partners and was now shaking her hips in front of the soon-to-be groom. Meanwhile, Raymond Slack had moved on as well, bumping up against a red-headed woman equally as stunning as his cousin.

  Irritation welled up within him, and when he cut back to Meg, innocently nursing her beer, it was all he could do not to react. Finally, his drink arrived and he downed a huge sip before he spoke.

  “I could say the same to you.” He watched her purse her eyebrows in confusion. “You don’t look like you’re having a great time either.”

  “Ah, well, wedding party duty. I’m not much for going out to clubs. I’ve been here almost two hours, and this is my first drink.”

  “Your better half doesn’t seem to have that problem.”

  Blotches of bright red bloomed on her cheeks, and she started to look back in her husband’s direction, then stopped and shrugged. “I don’t like to dance really. But Ray enjoys it.”

  “Convenient for him.”

  She blinked a few times, then lifted the bottle to her lips. “You could say that.”

  He immediately had the urge to apologize. His sister Kay would have slapped him for being so crass. It’s not her fault she married a loser.

  “Can I get you another beer?” he asked. Not really an apology but as close as he could bring himself to get to one.

  “Nah, I’m good.” She swiveled in her seat, then groaned. “We may have a problem. I’ve seen that look in Rhonda’s eyes before. She’s right on the verge of letting loose on your cousin. Like I said, she’s a teeny bit jealous where Ben’s concerned.”
r />   Jeremy finished his drink, then began to stand. “I’ll stop her.”

  With a quirky smile, she placed her hand on top of his. “Let me see what I can do.”

  He watched Meg stand and head for the DJ’s booth. Something about her stuck out to him. There wasn’t anything spectacular about her looks. Her hair was an average shade of brown, a bit wavy. She was a tad on the short side and wasn’t nearly as thin as the majority of the women around her on that dance floor. But she held herself with a subdued pride, wearing it like armor to protect her from something. He admired her in that moment.

  And when she finished talking to the DJ and turned around, she had a sly grin on her face. A smooth bluesy melody wafted up from the speakers as Meg approached her friend Rhonda. All the jealous anger that had once been on the young bride’s face melted away, and she opened her mouth in a silent scream. Most of the men began to drift away from the dance floor and in unison the ladies began to step and clap in perfect cadence…

  … including Geneva.

  Jeremy shook his head in astonishment, then waved down a waitress and ordered another drink.

  Meg made a beeline for the bathroom as soon as “Mustang Sally” was finished playing and she was sure the tension between Rhonda and Geneva was relieved. A quick glance revealed Jeremy was still at the same table, brooding over another glass of bourbon.

  When she looked at herself in the bathroom mirror, she was exasperated by her reflection. Sweat was dripping from her temples and plastering stray curls of hair to her forehead. Her cheeks didn’t have a fetching blush but were instead marked with bright fuchsia splotches.

  Women don’t sweat, they glow. Rhonda used to say that.

  Well, that gene had clearly skipped Meg because she certainly sweated.

  A few ladies she didn’t recognize entered the bathroom, and she jumped, smiling nervously. They barely glanced at her before they entered separate stalls. As quick as she could, Meg ran a few paper towels under the tap, then patted at her cheeks and brushed her hair back. By the time one of the toilets flushed she had another coat of lipstick on, then slapped her hand on the door and walked back into the club.

  She had the urge to duck back in when she saw Jeremy was still sitting at the same table. She wondered if he expected her to come back. This was a party, so nothing said she had to return to the same spot after a dance, right?

  “Why the hell wouldn’t I want to go back there?” she asked herself, then shook her head and started that way.

  Jeremy was fairly attractive with blond hair that was cropped short, giving him a refined look. He was a little taller and thinner than she was used to. Something in her mind always drew her to brawnier body-types. If she were honest, and she usually was with herself, she’d admit that it had a lot to do with her own shape. She was a big girl, and it just felt wrong to be with a guy who weighed half as much as she did.

  She was a few steps away from him, when she got a cold chill in her blood. Was she being presumptuous, thinking he would want her to come sit with him again? There were any number of good-looking women he might prefer to keep company with. She bit her lip and scrunched up her forehead.

  About that time one of Rhonda’s college friends—Bailey, she recalled—approached him.

  “Hey, you’re Geneva’s cousin, right? I’m Bailey,” she said, leaning onto the table with a pearly white smile that Julia Roberts would envy.

  “Nice to meet you.” He nodded, barely cracking even a polite grin. Then when Bailey started to drop her rear into the chair, he reached across and tapped her knuckles. “Ah, I’m sorry, but that seat’s taken.”

  Bailey blinked and drew back. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

  “Hey there,” Meg said with a timid wave as she got close to the table. There was a spark of confusion in Bailey’s eyes when Jeremy half-stood from his chair and pulled the one opposite out for Meg.

  She was pretty sure she had a mirror image of that same perplexed frown on her own face. She’d never once had a man hold out a chair for her. Taking the seat, she flagged down a waitress as Bailey sulked away.

  “She’s cute, don’t you think? And I know Rhonda said she’s free… pre-med, I believe.”

  Jeremy tapped his glass and side-eyed her. “Do I appear to be looking to get laid?”

  She cocked her head and assessed him, gaze roving up and down. Her mouth tugged to one side as she considered the question. About that time the waitress delivered her beer. “No, not really. You kind of have a get-the-hell-away-from-me-because-I-don’t-like-anyone look on your face.”

  She brought the bottle to her lips and took a long draw, eyes still on him. After just a few seconds, his lips twitched, and finally he gave in and smiled. Meg slammed her bottle down and then slapped the table with her free hand. “Now, you see. That’s better. Keep that up and you could definitely get laid tonight.”

  Her neck and face flamed when she realized how cheeky and suggestive those words were. She tried not to look at Jeremy to see his reaction, but her curiosity got the best of her. Both lips rolled into her mouth as she peered up at him, but his expression hadn’t changed. Just that same simple smile, except there was an extra sparkle of amusement shining in his baby blues.

  She smacked her lips and chuckled as she turned back to the dance floor. A little tap to her shoulder drew her attention, and she was surprised to see Ray behind her. She forced herself to smile at him and motioned to Jeremy. “Hey there. Have you met Jeremy Rawley? I know you’ve met his cousin, Geneva.”

  She hadn’t been able to keep the acerbic tone from her voice. Ray didn’t seem to notice, just glanced over at the other man and gave him a chin nod. She watched Jeremy incline his head in acknowledgment.

  Men had some strange language all their own.

  “Can I talk to you a minute?”

  Meg smiled and nodded, getting up from her seat and following him to a quiet corner. “What’s the problem?”

  “Problem? No problem.”

  Cocking her head to this side and giving him an incredulous glare, she said, “C’mon, Ray. Known you too long for games. What’s going on? You’re all twitchy.”

  He glanced off into the distance and frowned. “It’s Rhonda. She’s throwing a hissy fit ‘cause I’m ignoring you. Mainly she’s still pissed that Geneva was dancing too close to Ben, but she’s putting it off on us.”

  “Us? She’s putting it off on you, you mean.”

  Meg looked over at her friend who was sitting on her fiancé’s lap, watching the two of them nervously. A ball of nerves threatened to come up from her belly and make Meg sick. “What do you want me to do, Ray? I don’t dance, and we all know that. Tell her I’m just letting you have a little fun and then go back to grinding with your dark-haired goddess.”

  “She says I should come claim my woman. She thinks you’re too chatty with that royal dude.”

  Meg’s eyes widened. “Royal dude? What royal dude?”

  “You’ve been sitting with him since the dinner. Haven’t you struck up a single conversation with him? He’s the son of a duke or something.”

  She could’ve been knocked over by a feather at that point. Jeremy was the son of a duke? That explained a lot about his elitist attitude. It also put a damper on the burgeoning thoughts she’d been having about him. It had been a long time since a guy had spent any time or attention on her. She couldn’t help but wish he might actually be interested.

  But a duke? No, probably not. Way out of her league.

  “We’re just chatting. Seriously, tell Rhonda everything’s cool. I get why we have to keep up this charade for her, but I’m not going to sit on your lap and hang on your every word for the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours. Not going to happen.”

  He glanced up at his sister again, then frowned at Meg in annoyance. “You know he’s just being nice, right? He’s just here to babysit Geneva. You’re not his type.”

  Ah, there he was. The nasty Ray that always came out when he was being bullied by his
sister and needed someone to lash out against. And the fact that he’d had several drinks would only make him that much worse.

  “Well then, you’re in luck, Ray. I’ll keep him distracted with niceties while you try to get his cousin to screw you.”

  She lifted an eyebrow and shot him a smug glare as his mouth dropped open in astonishment. Calling him on his crap was a new thing for her, and he still wasn’t used to it. But being alone for all those months had built up her autonomy and her gumption. And although she still cared for Ray and for Rhonda, she didn’t want to be at their beck and call anymore.

  Taking a step closer to him, Meg lifted a hand and patted his cheek affectionately, lingering just long enough for effect. “You’re an adult, Ray, and she’s not your mother. I’ll see you later.”

  She knew Rhonda had been watching them the entire time, and she hoped that her little display of faux-affection would be enough to throw her off their trail. The thing about Rhonda was that she could usually tell when they were up to something, so playing this off would be tricky.

  But honestly, Meg was content to leave that in Ray’s hands. He was the one who’d left her. He was the one who’d filed for the divorce. He was the one who insisted they should keep it a secret from Rhonda.

  When she returned to the table where Jeremy was still seated, she hesitated just a moment before sitting. Was it really possible he was some sort of royalty? Biting her lip, she wriggled in her seat until she was comfortable, then she grabbed her beer and took a quick swallow.

  “So what do you do for a living, Jeremy?”

  The look he shot her suggested he saw straight through her benign question. After a second, he shrugged as if bored. “I manage properties for my family and also do a bit of investing.”

  Meg’s head moved up and down as she considered that.

  “Go ahead,” he told her, tapping the side of his glass and looking off into the distance.

  “Go ahead with what?”

  “What you really want to know is about my family. And no, I’m not a duke. I overhead some giggling girls saying that at dinner.”