Running with a Sweet Talker (Brides on the Run Book 2)

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Running with a Sweet Talker (Brides on the Run Book 2) Page 5

by Jami Albright

She nodded. “Thank you, Jack. I really don’t know how to repay you.”

  “I’ll think of something.”

  “Pig,” she said, without heat. “Since I’m already racking up a bill, do you think I could borrow your phone? I need to try and get in touch with Scarlett.”

  “Sure.” He reached into his pocket and withdrew his phone. “Five missed calls from Gavin’s phone. You’re in trouble Ms. Price.”

  “I never heard it ring.”

  He checked the toggle on the side of the phone. “I turned it off for the wedding. I guess I never turned it back on.”

  “I better call her. She’s probably got the Highway Patrol looking for me.” A tap of her finger and the phone came alive. “Thanks for letting me use it.”

  “No problem. Ignore the porn. It’s research for work. I promise.”

  She chuckled and gave him a wave over her shoulder as she made her way down the hall. “Good night, Jack.”

  “Good night.” He followed her movements and almost forgot about the trouble he had brewing with his father. Almost. “Dad?”

  “Who dat?”

  He followed his father’s Cajun greeting into the small living room and flipped on a small table lamp, casting the room in a golden hue. His dad sat sprawled on the sofa with a bottle of Jack Daniels in one hand and a piece of paper in the other.

  “What’s up, Dad?” What the hell was going on? He’d never seen his dad like this.

  “Nuttin’.”

  “Something is obviously going on or you wouldn’t be sitting here in the dark, drunk as a skunk, and smelling like you haven’t showered in a couple of days.”

  “Mind your own damn business.” Spittle followed the statement from his father’s lips.

  Jack stepped back like he’d been punched in the gut. His father never spoke to him in this manner. He strode over to take the bottle from his dad’s hand. “Give me that. It’s not doing you any favors.”

  The drunken man wrestled for the bottle but lost. “Just get da hell out of here. You’re not my son.”

  “What? Dad, are you sick? You’re talking crazy.”

  The house phone rang on the small table next to the sofa scaring the shit out of Jack. He lifted the receiver. “Hello.”

  “Jack, it’s Rosemary. How’s your dad?”

  “He’s drunk and talking out of his head, but I think he’ll be fine in the morning.”

  “Okay, if you need anything let me know.”

  “I will.” He returned the phone to its stand.

  “Stop talkin’ about me like I’m not here, boy. Show me some respect, goddammit, is that any way to talk about your father?” He stared at the paper in his hand, then crumpled it in his fist. “Not your father…” he mumbled, and then began to cry.

  Panic flooded Jack’s veins. Something bad was going on with his dad. He knelt beside the sofa so he was eye level with his father. “Dad, tell me what’s wrong. It’s alright, you can tell me.”

  The elder Avery shook the fist with the paper in Jack’s face. “This is what’s wrong. This is the end of my life. Your mother lied to us, Jack.” He got nose to nose with his son. “She lied,” he growled. The words sounded like they were being dragged over broken glass.

  Jack restrained his dad and took the sheet of paper from his curled fingers. “What is this?” It was a letter addressed to his mother.

  “Go on, read it. Every last thing was a bald-faced lie.”

  Robin,

  My name is Kyle Harris. I’m Mitch Rawlings’ partner. I know it’s been years since you and Mitch have spoken and there has been a great deal of water under the bridge, so this letter probably comes as a shock to you.

  I’m writing to inform you that Mitch is very ill, life-threateningly ill. He’s very brave, but the illness is taking its toll on him.

  Robin, I know I am overstepping my bounds, but I love Mitch and I can’t stand to see him in pain. I think it is time that Jack finally finds out who his real father is. Mitch is a good man and I would hate to think he would die without ever getting to know his son, or his son knowing him.

  I realize I am only a bystander in this drama, and I can’t even image how difficult it was for you to find out your fiancé was gay, but times are different now. I know I’m asking a lot, and I understand if you want no part in this…

  It went on, but Jack never saw the rest. The room swayed and his legs went out from under him. He landed with a thud next to his father. The air trapped in his lungs finally escaped. “What the hell, Dad?”

  All his dad could do was cry. Jack knew how he felt. He raised the bottle to his lips and took a long swig. Tears pressed against his own eyes, fire clogged his throat, and his world took a sharp left turn into what-the-fuckville. “It can’t be true. She wouldn’t have lied to us like that. She just wouldn’t have.”

  His father nudged a box with his foot. “It’s true, Jack. The proof is in this box. She kept the letters that went back and forth between them. You aren’t my son. Your real father is a gay syrup farmer in Vermont.” He staggered to his feet.

  “Dad.”

  His father stared down at him like he’d never seen him before. An imaginary fist gripped Jack’s throat. “I don’t care what this letter says.” He kicked the box of correspondence off the table. “Or what those letters say. You’re my dad. We’ll figure this out together.”

  “No. We won’t. I’m sorry, Jack, but every time I look at you all I see is her betrayal. I think it would be best if you weren’t here in the morning. I need to deal with this by myself.”

  Then the man Jack had worshipped his whole life walked out of the room.

  Chapter Seven

  Stepping into Jack’s room was like stepping into a high-school yearbook. It took Luanne a moment to process the space. His trophies sat on shelves, pictures of him and his buddies were pinned to a corkboard above his desk, and black and gold pom-poms stuck out of a vase on a shelf. The centerpiece of it all was Jack’s letterman jacket, framed and hung above his bed.

  Next to the bed was a photo of Jack in a white tuxedo, with a pretty blonde with jewels in her hair and a flowy pink dress. Rosemary. Her back was to his front and his arms were wrapped around her, while her hands rested on his arms. It was the classic prom pose. There was another picture of him and Rosemary facing each other, standing in front of a horse stall, laughing their heads off.

  But the picture that caused a knot to form in Luanne’s throat was of Jack in his graduation regalia, hugging his mom. They both had their eyes closed like they were trying to memorize the moment. Could a man who obviously loved his mom this much be all bad? That was a question for another day. She had way bigger fish to fry today.

  She pulled up the contacts on Jack’s phone and dialed Gavin’s number.

  Gavin picked up on the first ring. “Hey, dickhead.”

  “Hey, good-lookin’.”

  “Luanne?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why do you have Jack’s phone?”

  In the background she heard Scarlett say, “Is that Lou? Give me the phone.”

  “Yeah, it’s her—”

  “Lou, where are you?” Scarlett’s tone was frantic.

  “In Beauchamp, Louisiana, with Jack.”

  “What? How did you end up with Jack? That’s the last person I expected you to be with.”

  “He offered me a ride and I took it.”

  “He offered me a ride is not an answer. You better start talkin’, sister.”

  “I saw Doug with another woman right before I ran.”

  “That piece of—”

  “It’s not about Doug. I not in love with him.”

  “Yes, I know. I believe I told you not to marry him.”

  “Well, turns out you were right, but not because he isn’t the love of my life. I don’t do love and you know why. But my father…” Could she tell Scarlett, actually say the words out loud? She had to tell someone—it was eating her alive. “I was hiding in one of the rooms in the bac
k of the event center trying to clear my head—”

  “Because you were making the biggest mistake of your life.”

  “Noted. Do you want to hear this, or not?”

  “Sorry, yes.”

  “Anyway, Doug and his girlfriend were in the hall makin’ out when my dad caught them.”

  Scarlett sucked in a breath. “Oh, crap. I bet Marcus nearly killed Doug.”

  Misery crisscrossed her heart. “Yeah, that’s what I thought would happen too.”

  A moment of hesitation. “It didn’t?”

  “Oh, my father tore Doug a new one, but it wasn’t because he was cheating on me, it was because his cheating might stop the wedding and ruin their deal.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  She wished she didn’t understand either, but unfortunately this pain was all too familiar. “The long and short of it is my dad needs the Divan’s business. Doug needs a respectable wife to appease his family and take over his father’s company. I was the solution to both their problems. Once Doug was running the company, he and my dad would do the deal of the century and make tons of money.” Humiliation oozed over her. That part of the tale was bad, but it was the rest of the story that tore her heart from her chest. “He told Doug he could have all the affairs he wanted after we were married, Scarlett. It’s just so…”

  “Disrespectful. Hurtful. Callus.”

  “Yes.” Her legs refused to hold her anymore, and she sat down hard on the bed.

  “Hot shit-fire! I hate that man.”

  As miserable as Luanne was, she bit back a laugh. Scarlett was learning the fine art of cussing from her rock star husband, and she hadn’t quite gotten the hang of it. “Yeah…well…we’ve never been close, but I did think he had my best interests at heart when he proposed the idea of marrying Doug, and I do love my father. Did…I did love father.”

  “Oh, Lou, I’m so sorry.”

  Luanne swiped another irritating tear. “It’s okay.”

  “No, it’s not. You deserve better than this.”

  The tenderness in her friend’s voice was her undoing. The floodgates opened and the tears fell unchecked down her face. “He sent Tank to my house to bring me back to the wedding. The idiot threw my house key into the storm drain then got physical when I said I was calling the cops. That’s when Jack jumped him and they fought, and Tank pulled a Taser on Jack. I jumped on Tank’s back to distract him, then Jack knocked him out and we ran. Jack had to be in his hometown for a ceremony for his mom, so we took off for Louisiana.”

  “I heard about Tank. The whole town has heard about Tank. I can’t believe your father did that.”

  She wiped her face. “Believe it. Jack was taking me to my house so I could get some money and clothes, then I was going to rent a car and get out of town. But because of what happened with Tank, plus the fact that my dad was on his way to get me, we got the hell out of there without any of my things. I have nothing with me. I traded my wedding dress for some clothes at Charity Mart, so at least I’m out of that ridiculous thing.”

  “You’re wearing second-hand clothing?”

  “Desperate times, my friend, desperate times. Anyway, do you think you could wire me money tomorrow?”

  “Sure. Where do I send it?”

  She laughed. “I have no idea. I’ll ask Jack and call you in the morning.”

  “What’s your plan?”

  “I don’t really have one. I can’t rent a car or catch a plane because I don’t have a driver’s license, so I’m sort of stuck with Jack for now. I think he plans to stay here for a few days, then…”

  “Why don’t you get him to take you to our cabin on the lake—it’s on his way back to Austin. Let me know when you’ll be there and I’ll get the caretaker to meet you and give you the key.”

  Relief poured over her. She had a solution and she wouldn’t have to rely on Jack for anything but a ride. “Can you meet me there?”

  “Oh, honey, I’d love to, but we leave for our trip tomorrow, remember?”

  “I forgot.”

  “Yeah, we’re taking Aiden to that place with the mouse.”

  “Is he in the room?”

  “Yes.” Scarlett lowered her voice to a whisper. “We can’t say the name in front of him or he loses his mind. There’s no telling what he’s going to do when we get there. I’ll call when I get back and if you’re still there I’ll come then. Wait, how will I get in touch with you?”

  “I’ll buy a cheap phone after you send the money and text you the number.”

  “Okay. How are things with Jack? I’m surprised you haven’t killed him yet.”

  “They’re fine, but I’m really pissed at him.”

  “Shocker.”

  She laughed. “Yeah, well, he’s saved me twice, and that really screws with my plans to hate him forever.”

  “Shame.”

  “I know.”

  “What are you going to do about your father? He was furious, but in that smarmy Marcus Price kind of way. He and Gavin almost got into it, because he thought I knew where you were and tried to bully the info out of me.”

  She picked at lose string on the bedspread. “I can imagine Gavin’s response to that.”

  “Yeah, well, let’s just say that your dad got up close and personal with The Delinquent, and he backed off quick.”

  “I bet he did.” The thought of Gavin ‘The Delinquent’ Bain ripping her father a new one brought her a sick sense of satisfaction.

  “Um…Lou, there’s something else you should know.”

  There was more? “Tell me.”

  “It appears there’s a chance that Tank could lose a testicle due to the Taser shot.”

  “What?” She couldn’t stand Tank, but she hadn’t meant to do permanent damage.

  “Yes, and…well, the Zachsville Raiders Booster Club is out for blood. They’re sure if Tank loses a testicle, then he won’t be able to have kids, and you know what they always say about his unborn spawn.”

  “Those kids are the future of Zachsville’s athletic program,” they said together.

  “They’re pressuring Will Sinclair to press charges.”

  “What does Will say to that?”

  Scarlett snorted. “Will told them he wanted the whole story before he made any kind of decision. Will’s the best DA Blister County’s ever had. He’s not going to kowtow to a bunch of overzealous sports fans. I wouldn’t worry about any kind of legal repercussion, but the public backlash is another thing. I’d lay low for a while if I were you.”

  She nibbled her fingernail. “How was Gigi?”

  “Your grandmother was flitting around your father trying to calm him down.”

  “I should call her.” Mutant butterflies began to duke it out in Luanne’s belly at the thought of that conversation.

  “Yes, you should.”

  “Can you text me her number?”

  “You don’t know your grandmother’s phone number?”

  “She got rid of her landline, and I don’t have her cell number memorized. Do you know Floyd or Honey’s cell numbers?”

  “Um…”

  “Exactly. No one memorizes numbers anymore. They’re all programmed into our phones.”

  “Have you and Jack talked about what happened after our wedding?”

  Mortification shot up her neck, prickling and stinging. “He tried to, but I shut him down.”

  “Don’t you think you should clear the air between you?”

  She jumped up from the bed. “And say what, Scarlett? Hey, Jack, remember that time I got drunk at my best friend’s wedding, sucked your face, then lost my freakin’ mind while we were on our way to my house to get it on? Yeah…well…sorry about that. ’Kay?” She paced around the room. “I mean how do you come back from that? And how do I explain it, without telling way too much about myself? No thank you. He already has enough ammunition to bury me.”

  “Did he try to rub your nose in what happened? I’ll kick his mother-lovin’ ass.”


  She picked up a cologne bottle from the top of the dresser and sniffed. It smelled musky and old, like it hadn’t been used in a very long time. “No. He was actually pretty nice about it, but who knows when he’ll try to use it against me. It’s best to let sleeping dogs lie.”

  “Okay, but for the record, I think you’re wrong.”

  She replaced the cologne bottle and picked up a leather bracelet with flowers burned into the band. When she turned it over, she saw the name Valerie written in black sharpie. Interesting. “So, noted.”

  “I’ll text you your grandmother’s number.”

  “Thanks, I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  Once they disconnected she stared at the phone. She needed to call her grandmother, but it was the absolute last thing she wanted to do.

  The phone vibrated in her hand and her grandmother’s number popped onto the screen along with a message from Scarlett.

  BTW, be careful around Jack, he can charm the pants off a saint.

  A snort escaped her. Yeah, she’d almost found that out in the dressing room of the Charity Mart.

  She tapped the screen to make the call. Her grandmother answered on the first ring.

  “Hello.”

  The bedsprings squeaked when she plopped down on it this time. “Gigi, it’s Luanne.”

  “Luanne, your father is fit to be tied.”

  “I bet he is.” Of course her grandmother would be more concerned about her baby boy’s welfare as opposed to her well-being. No matter that Marcus Price was a fifty-year-old man.

  “What does that—”

  “Luanne, this is your father.”

  Damn.

  “Yeah, so?”

  “So? I’m worried sick about you and all you can say is so?”

  Don’t fall for it, don’t fall for it, don’t fall for it.

  But it was so hard. Something about her father acting all concerned about her turned her to mush.

  That’s how you got into this situation.

  She hardened her heart against his endearing tone. “I’m sorry you’re worried, Marcus, but I assure you there’s no need.”

  “Marcus? What is heaven’s name is going on, Luanne?” Her father actually sounded hurt. Give the man an Academy Award.

 

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