Ladd Fortune

by Dianne Venetta

  The revelation crushed her spurt of enthusiasm. “Oh.”

  “You don’t like hotels?”

  “No, but I don’t’ think you know what you’re getting yourself into.”

  “Care to enlighten me?”

  “Jeremiah Ladd is back in town. He’s after Ladd Springs.”

  “You know Jeremiah?” he asked innocently, knowing full well she ran off with the man.

  “Yes. We both live in Atlanta.”

  “And now you two are back home for a visit?”

  It took her a minute to decipher the insinuation. “Oh—we’re not together!” she cried.

  “Coincidental visit?”

  “Er—no, not exactly.” Lacy picked up her drink and seemed to seek refuge in her glass, sipping slowly. It was a dodge if he’d ever seen one.

  “I understand he had a relationship with your sister,” Malcolm said quietly.

  Big blue eyes blinked up at him. Skeptical eyes. Wary eyes. “You could call it that.”

  Malcolm laughed. Part of him enjoyed seeing her squirm, but the other part of him wanted the sexy, sultry Ms. Owens to return.

  “Listen.” She hushed her voice. Checking the bar for onlookers, she said, “If you’re trying to build a hotel on that property, I’ll warn you right now that Jeremiah is here to cause trouble.”

  Malcolm leaned toward her, enjoying a sudden drift of her perfume, her invitation to inside information. “What kind of trouble?”

  Lacy looked at him, her gaze darting up and down as though suddenly realizing exactly how close he was standing, then leaned back into her chair. “Well, he wants the property for himself, though I don’t see how that’s going to happen. Not going up against Delaney, anyway. But Jeremiah is underhanded, especially when there’s money involved. And I hear Annie wants it, too, so all I’m saying is you might have to get in line.”

  For a woman in town for all of twenty-four hours, Lacy was well-informed. “You have personal knowledge of this?”

  “I know Jeremiah. My Aunt Frannie told me about Annie.”

  “Hmm.”

  “And Loretta.”

  “Loretta?” Malcolm echoed, intrigued by the growing cast of characters.

  Lacy set her cigar into the ashtray. “She’s his girlfriend and she’s with him.”

  “I see.” The man he met at Delaney’s cabin certainly carried an edge to him. How far would he go to get his hands on Ladd Springs?

  “I’m telling you, watch your back with Jeremiah.”

  “Will do,” he said.

  Lacy’s gaze leaped to the door. Her features changed from those of a willing conspirator to intrigued spectator.

  He turned to see Felicity’s friend, Troy Parker, enter the bar with a bombshell of a woman on his arm. Malcolm cocked a brow. From what he understood, those two boys only had eyes for Delaney’s daughter. Malcolm asked Lacy, “You know them?”

  “That’s Loretta.”

  “Jeremiah’s girlfriend?”

  “One and the same.” Lacy reached for the cigar and inhaled quickly, blowing the smoke out equally as fast, her gaze fixated on the couple. “I saw her with that boy earlier today.”

  “You did? Where?”

  “Aunt Frannie’s.”

  “At the diner?” She nodded. Malcolm didn’t believe in coincidences. “Were they talking to one another, or just in the same restaurant, same time?” he probed.

  “They weren’t exactly talking, more like making eyes at one another.”

  The blonde spotted Lacy and waved gaily. Lacy summoned a quick smile and waved back.

  Troy Parker took note of Lacy first, Malcolm second, his expression coiling around Malcolm with deadly precision. The boy was clearly not pleased to see he had company. Steering the woman toward a high-top on the opposite side of the bar, Troy treated Malcolm and Lacy to nothing but profile.

  The kid was a bull, Malcolm thought. You could feel it in his posture, the hard line of his jaw. His twin brother Travis had the look of a Ralph Lauren model. This one had the look of a boxer. He was trying to play to the woman running her hand up and down his arm—the very attractive woman wearing a low cut blouse, skintight skirt, heels as high as skyscrapers—but Malcolm sensed his attention was on him and Lacy at the moment and not his date.

  Lacy sipped from her drink, continuing her gawk.

  “Does she normally step out on Jeremiah like this?” Malcolm asked.

  Lacy shrugged. “Loretta likes the boys and definitely likes them young.” Soft lines creased across her forehead. “But chasing them in Jeremiah’s hometown?” She looked to Malcolm. “It seems a bit odd, don’t you think?”

  “Not when you consider that young man is intimately familiar with Delaney and Ladd Springs.”

  “He is?”

  “He is”

  Sharpening her focus on the couple, Lacy nodded. “Jeremiah probably put her up to this, then.” Glancing at Malcolm, she added, “I told you he’ll do whatever it takes to get his hands on the prize. You need to listen to me.”

  “Point noted.” Malcolm encircled his gaze around the two across the room like a noose. He bet she was right. Troy crossing enemy lines was a complication he didn’t need.

  Chapter Seven

  Troy turned onto the driveway of his home and pulled off onto the grass near a mess of trees. Trunks and branches were like a wall of blackness, the underbrush thick and impenetrable. He cut his headlights and stared out through the darkness, contemplating his next move. “Why are you stopping, sweetie?” Seated in the center of the bench seat, Loretta Flynn leaned into him, treating Troy to a waft of her flowery perfume and a press from her generous cleavage. She tiptoed her fingers up his chest. “Is there a problem?”

  Yeah. No place to take you. But it wasn’t gonna stop him. He turned to her and dropped his gaze to her mouth. “I don’t think you want to sneak into my bedroom.” She giggled. “Can we go to your place?”

  Loretta giggled again. “I don’t really have a place,” she purred, the smell of liquor rising from her breath. “But I don’t mind making love in your truck.”

  “In my truck?”

  She pecked his lips. “Sure. Might be more fun.”

  Troy envisioned them trying to work the angles of his backseat, the discomfort of trying to wedge himself on top of her on the bench cushion and frowned. Not exactly the kind of thrill he wanted for his first time with her, but he wasn’t going to miss an opportunity on account of it. Adjusting his eyes to the light, Loretta pulled his hand to her breasts and he hardened. The decision was made. “Once past these trees, we can park off to the side where no one will see us from the house.”

  “Perfect.” Loretta slid her hand over his groin. “Can’t wait,” she whispered huskily.

  Troy switched on his truck lights and jammed his boot to the accelerator. The truck lunged and Loretta cried out as they hit a ditch. “Oh!” Bouncing back against her seat, she grabbed hold of him and laughed. “Four wheeling!” she squealed. He cut to a clearing on the right and extinguished his lights, rolling several yards before cutting the engine.

  They wouldn’t be discovered here. His parents went to bed early and Travis was home studying for his finals next week—though why he wasted a weekend to do what he could do in one night was beyond Troy. But that was Travis, always the overachiever.

  Loretta’s fingers unbuttoning his shirt snapped Troy’s attention back into the moment. “I’ve been thinking about this all night,” she said, her voice thick with the sluggishness of drink. Shifting his weight, he eased back to give her better access. For once he was glad not to have been drinking right along with her. He’d have the advantage now. “You are one hot specimen of a man, Troy Parker.”

  He smiled. “You’re not too bad yourself.”

  Continuing down to his waistband, she tugged his shirt free. “You keep flattering me and see where it gets you.” Troy smirked as she slid her hands beneath his shirt, roaming the expanse of his chest and stomach. He tightened his m
uscles as slender fingers meandered over his abs. “You are so strong,” she cooed.

  Troy lightly grabbed her face and kissed her, plunging his tongue inside, finding her mouth hot and slick. Loretta ran her hands through his hair, gently pulled at his ear lobes, then skimmed her hands down his neck and under his collar. Troy pulled back and commanded, “Back seat.”

  Without waiting for a response, he shoved his car door open, reached for her hand and pulled her toward him. Loretta scooted across the seat willingly. Troy marveled at how easy she was. He’d never been with a woman he didn’t have to work at, to coax with sweet words and promises. The few girls he had slept with demanded he romance them. Which didn’t make sense. They hooked up at a party. They were buzzed. Why romance at that point?

  Suddenly grateful his dad made him drive the old quad cab, Troy popped open the back door and guided her in. But Loretta stopped, seized his jaw and pulled him down to deliver the deepest, slipperiest kiss he’d ever had. Desire surged. He wanted her naked. Now. Fumbling with her blouse in the dark, he searched for the front buttons.

  “Let me help you with that,” Loretta said, and worked herself free from his hold. She hopped up into the truck’s back seat and a curled finger. “Come here and let me show you.”

  Didn’t have to ask him twice. With the sliver of moonlight they did have, he was going to see everything he could see. Troy moved between her legs and planted another wet kiss on her lips. Loretta returned the kiss a bit sloppily then he watched in awe as her hands reached for the front of her shirt. She really was going to show him.

  His pulse pounded as he anticipated what she would look like, feel like. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on her, his mouth on her, but a flash of light stopped his heart.

  Loretta hands stilled at her bra. “What was that?”

  Troy whipped his head around to see Travis’ truck emerge from behind a cluster of trees. “Crap!”

  “Who is it?”

  “My brother,” he exclaimed and ducked.

  “Will he care that we’re here?” she asked.

  Probably. Troy groaned inwardly. Mr. Goody Two Shoes cared about everything his brother did. When the truck stopped then headed their way, Troy dropped his head onto the soft mounds of Loretta’s chest. “Crap,” he muttered again.

  As the truck neared, Travis called out his name. “Troy?”

  Troy knew it was game over—for the moment. Lifting from Loretta, he yelled, “Travis, turn the dad gum lights off, will you? You’re blinding me!”

  Travis parked and walked over to him. “What are you doing, Troy?”

  Troy stood, blocking the open back door. Why did his brother have to look so dumbfounded? What did he think he was doing—playing with himself? “I have company, if you don’t mind. Now will you get already?”

  “Company?” Alarm scored Travis’ expression. “Who?”

  “None of your dad gum business, who.” He pulled the unbuttoned shirt up and around his shoulders and squared off with his brother.

  But Travis couldn’t help himself and had to sneak a peek through the window. He returned a blank look. “Who’s she?”

  “I done told you,” Troy said. “It’s none of your business. It isn’t Felicity, if that’s what you were wondering.”

  The relief that filled Travis’ eyes pissed Troy off, even though his brother claimed, “I never thought it was.”

  “Don’t give me that bull. She’s the only one you’d be worried about sitting in a car in the dark with me.”

  “Troy.” Travis slanted his gaze toward the woman in the truck, silently condemning him for talking about another female in this one’s presence.

  Loretta sat up, pulling her shirt haphazardly into place. “Is everything all right out there?”

  “Fine,” Troy swiped back. “My brother here was just leaving.”

  Eyeing Loretta, Travis whispered, “Don’t you think she’s a bit old?”

  “Did you hear that, Loretta? My brother is calling you old.”

  Scrutinizing her further, her identity registered with Travis. “Isn’t she the woman from the diner?”

  “One and the same,” Troy confirmed proudly.

  “What are you doing with her?”

  “If I have to explain the finer details of the reproductive system to you, then you’re already a lost cause.” Troy paused, struck by the sudden urge to hurt his brother. “I guess it should be Felicity in there, since you don’t seem to know the first thing to do with her.”

  Travis punched Troy across the jaw. Troy reeled. Loretta screamed. Anger set fire to Travis’ gaze. “Don’t you ever use Felicity’s name like that again.”

  Troy lunged at him. Grabbing his brother by the shoulders, he plowed him backward to the ground. Running on automatic, Troy whaled fist after fist, making contact wherever and whenever he could.

  Loretta was out of the car, shrieking like a crazy woman. “Stop it! Stop i!”

  “Get off me,” Travis growled. Struggling against the flying fists, he wrapped his legs around Troy’s body and tried to roll him.

  Troy felt his energy draining. “You’re a son of a bitch,” he shouted into Travis’ face. In a flash, he was slammed onto his back, arms pinned.

  Above him, Travis’ face was flushed, his eyes bulging in the shadows of his headlights. “I’m the son of a bitch? You’re the one who insulted Felicity.”

  “I didn’t insult nobody but you.” With a final struggle, Troy went limp. “Get off me,” he said, fully expecting his brother to do so.

  “Not until you apologize.”

  “Sorry.”

  “I should hit you again for that weak response.” Travis shoved Troy’s arms into the dirt, then lifted from him. He took a step back, but not before giving Troy a swift kick in the legs.

  Troy jumped to his feet and went after his brother, but Loretta grabbed his arm. “Stop it, Troy!”

  “Now you need to get this woman home,” Travis said, “before I tell Mom and Dad.”

  Loretta stood, mouth agape, as though she’d never seen two men fight.

  “What she and I do is my business,” Troy said, thumping his chest. “They don’t need to know anything about it.”

  “You don’t have any business picking up strangers,” Travis replied, then quickly nodded to her. “No offense, ma’am.” She closed her mouth with an indignant gawk. Travis drilled Troy with a knowing gaze. “Do it.” With that, he climbed back into his truck and continued his drive up to the house.

  Troy stood rigid as he trailed the taillights of his brother’s truck. Pompous ass.

  Loretta was quick to fuss over him. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” she asked, touching his chin as she scrutinized his face.

  “Nah, he didn’t hurt me.” Troy pulled her hand away and brushed the dirt from his body. He didn’t want sympathy from this woman. He wanted Felicity. He wanted Felicity to want him and not Travis. With a last look at Loretta, Troy started buttoning his shirt.

  “Is he seriously going to tell your folks?” she asked.

  “Doesn’t matter. I’m not in the mood anymore.”

  “What?”

  Taking heart at her distress, he said, “Don’t worry. We’ll do it again.” Troy glanced in the direction of his home. “Just not here.”

  As he watched Loretta put herself back together, he realized they would definitely be back together and soon. If only to piss off his brother.

  Chapter Eight

  An hour after the posted start time of one o’clock, Malcolm, Nick and Delaney arrived at the Memorial Day party. It was Ashley Fulmer’s annual picnic and Delaney claimed it was the event of the season. Ashley was Delaney’s mother’s best friend, and according to Nick, the woman instrumental in persuading Ernie Ladd to uphold his deathbed promise. Delaney’s mother, Susannah Wilkins, died of cancer years ago. The evening of her passing, Ashley claimed Susannah implored her brother Ernie to pass the Ladd Springs property on to the children. He argued against giving anything to
his son, Jeremiah Ladd—a sentiment Malcolm fully understood. He hadn’t known the man for more than fifteen minutes and could smell the bad blood exuding from his pores. Malcolm knew the type. Jeremiah was out for number one, no one else, and didn’t deserve any respect paid with regard to his feelings.

  Malcolm didn’t know much about Albert’s children, but apparently Ernie wasn’t concerned with them. And since it was his name on the title, legally he didn’t have to be. In the end, it seems Ernie agreed and swore to his dying sister that he’d include Delaney’s daughter in any will thus ensuring the property stayed in Ladd hands.

  It was a promise witnessed by Ashley Fulmer, one she had been prepared to testify to in a court of law, had matters made it that far. But they didn’t. Ernie acquiesced by signing a life estate deed for the sole benefit of Felicity Wilkins. Malcolm suspected she wouldn’t be pleased to hear of Jeremiah’s challenge to the deed, either. From what he could tell, the woman was firmly entrenched by Delaney’s side.

  Pulling up to a yard already littered with pickup trucks and the occasional compact and sedan, Malcolm was surprised by the sheer number of vehicles. “This is some shindig, isn’t it?” Malcolm said as they found a space some distance from the house.

  “Ashley is somewhat of a hub in this town. If she invites you to a party, you come.”

  Delaney logged those in attendance by their vehicle. The Parkers were here, which meant Felicity was here. Mary Beth and her clan were accounted for, the Fosters, Shores... Malcolm only half-listened as they hiked up the hill to Ashley’s home, a ranch-style painted barn red and adorned with flower pots spilling over with color. There was an old wagon wheel propped up on one end of the home and what seemed to Malcolm the mandatory rockers set out across the front porch.

  “Makes me wish I brought that pie,” Malcolm muttered. He’d purchased a peach pie, but Delaney told him to leave it behind, something about an ongoing feud between Ashley and Fran for title to Best Pie at the county fair.

  “Trust me,” Delaney told him, easily scaling the steep slope in her jeans and boots, the same slope of land that caused him to be winded from the exertion. “Ashley would have tanned your hide, you walked in with that pie.”