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

by Jami Albright

  The dark clouds that had been in the distance earlier were now hanging over them, causing the lush greenery of southern Tennessee to look even greener. If she hadn’t currently been about to lose her mind, she might find it lovely. But at the moment, it represented the ominous foreboding of their situation.

  Jack rubbed his flat stomach. “I’m hungry.”

  “That’s the fifth time you’ve said that in the fifteen minutes since we left the convenience store. You’re worse than a kid.” They were on the main street of Quincy walking to…God knew where, and trying to figure out their options, which were pathetically few.

  “I can’t help it. Once you said it was after six my body immediately realized it hadn’t eaten since this morning.”

  “Get yourself under control. I need you at your best to help me figure out this situation.” She glanced around, hoping to see a friendly face. “They roll up the streets early here in Quincy.” There wasn’t a soul in sight.

  “Yeah. I was thinking the same thing. I wonder if there’s a park here.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s probably the safest place to sleep tonight. Then you can try to call Floyd or Joyce tomorrow.”

  The panic she’d held at bay roared through her like a locomotive. She grabbed his arm and pulled him to a stop. “What in the hell are you talking about? I can’t sleep in a park.”

  “If you have another idea, then I’m all ears.”

  She stomped away from him. It was either that or curl up into the fetal position. This was horrible. She had no idea why this was the one thing to send her over the edge, but it was. This was what life with her mother had been like. The desperate vibrations coursing through her body were a little too familiar. Her mama’s emotions had always been so all-consuming that they’d seeped into Luanne’s soul. Always frantic, always out of control. She’d do just about anything not to revisit that place again. There had to be a way out.

  “Luanne, look.”

  She stopped and spun to face him. “What?” He was smiling like he’d found a million dollars.

  He motioned to her. “Come here and look at this.”

  “What is it?” She rushed back to him. “Have you found something?”

  “I sure as hell have. This is our ticket.” He tapped a sign hanging on a telephone pole.

  It was faded and had mud on it, but she could read Monday Amateur Night at Rosie’s Gentleman’s Club, $500 prize. The rest of the sign was illegible because of the mud. “Oh, hell no. Don’t even think about it, Jack.”

  He held his hands up like he was calming a violent animal. “Before you say no, I want you to consider our situation.”

  “Our situation is your fault. You should’ve tried to stop those grannies. Now you want me to dance at a strip club? There’s not enough money in the world, Jack-ass.”

  He looked offended. “There’s no need to call names. I only thought you’d want to do it for the team. I would do it, but if you’re not comfortable, I understand. I’ll ask the next person we see the location of the city park. If they don’t have a park, I’m sure we can find a shed or field to sleep in.” A low rumble of thunder sounded in the distance. Jack looked toward the sky, then back to Luanne. “Shame.”

  She would not do this. She would not. Another clap of thunder, this time closer than the last. The desperation swimming in her veins spiked.

  Damn him. Damn him. Damn him.

  “Fine.” She poked his chest. “But when this is over, you’re a dead man, Jack.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Rosie’s Gentleman’s Club was on the outskirts of town. It took a while to walk to the dance hall, and now they were late and, thanks to the sprinkles that had started five minutes before, damp. The contest was supposed to start in fifteen minutes. That was fine. It meant Luanne didn’t have much time to think about what she was about to do.

  This was a banner day. In only a few minutes she’d be dancing for money. Not only dancing—she’d be expected to remove some of her clothes. Thankfully she’d bought the baby-blue matching bra and panties set. Bile clawed at her throat. No. She could do this. Do what needed to be done to survive.

  She wasn’t weak. She wasn’t like her mother. She could do the hard things to take care of herself.

  Bullshit. You’ve let your daddy step in and take care of you every chance you get, just like your mother.

  She shoved that thought aside. The last thing she needed was to bring her screwed up relationship with her parents into this situation.

  Jack’s warm hands kneaded her shoulders. “You’ve got this, Luanne. I’ve seen you dance, you’re a natural.”

  The look she shot him should have burned him to ash.

  He held his hand up in surrender. “You’re right. We shouldn’t talk. You need to get into the zone.”

  She flipped him off and walked to the door. The big bouncer at the door informed them there wasn’t a cover charge. Good thing too, or she would have had to go in on her own. Of course, knowing Jack he’d charm his way in even if there was a cover charge.

  They both stopped inside the door to let their sight adjust to the dimness. Rosie’s was a classy joint, for Podunk, USA. The walls were covered in red velvet and the booths were black leather. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling along with trapeze bars spread around the club.

  I don’t even want to know.

  There was the obligatory smoky atmosphere, but not as bad as she thought it would be. One thing was for sure—it was packed. The whole county must have been there. Jack put his hand on her lower back and this time she welcomed his touch. Being the shortest person in a crowd could be claustrophobic.

  He ushered them to a corner in the back. Lip caught between his teeth, he surveyed the room. When he turned back to her, the fun-loving, charming man she’d grown used to was gone. Deep, furrowed lines of concern creased his brow. “You don’t have to do this. We’ll figure something out.”

  Smoky air filled her lungs as she took a deep breath. She looked around too. Not that she could see much. Short people problems. “I appreciate you saying that, but we need this money. I can get it for us…or I can at least try.”

  “I don’t…I’m sorry I ever suggested this.”

  One statement and all the irritation with him flowed away like a river after a big rain. It was a sweet sentiment. But the bottom line was she could do something about their current situation, and that was what she was going to do. “It’s fine, Jack. I can do this.”

  He caged her body with his. “No. This was a bad idea.” His warm breath tickled her ear.

  “I appreciate your concern, but I’m a big girl. This is my choice.”

  His deep amber gaze searched her face like she was a puzzle he couldn’t quite figure out. “Okay. I’m going to walk that direction and see if I can see where you sign up. Stay here. I’ll come back and get you.”

  His lips brushed across hers once, twice, three times. There wasn’t any heat in the kisses, but somehow that made them more potent. It took all her willpower not to reach out for his hand when he turned to go. She slumped against the wall and touched her mouth. This Jack was far more dangerous to her heart. For the briefest of moments, she saw right into his soul, and she liked it way more than she should.

  A woman squealed to her left. At the same time, a table full of ladies burst out laughing.

  Interesting.

  It seemed Alabama men were quite progressive, because everywhere she looked all she saw were other women. She moved from her spot and climbed onto a chair to get a better look. Yep, there were women of all ages and sizes at every booth, and in every chair. One table with a woman in a white veil and a sash that read Bride were particularly rowdy. There wasn’t a man in the place. No. Wait. A group of men sat next to the stage, but they looked like they weren’t regulars at Rosie’s Gentlemen’s Club. They were perfectly color coordinated and coiffed.

  Suddenly the lights began to flash, and smoke began to flow from the back of the stage.
Shit, it was starting and Jack wasn’t back.

  A bodacious woman in a red corset and a black flowing skirt, with four-inch lace-up boots, came striding onto the stage. Her blonde hair curled down her back and swung from side to side as she walked. “Ladies! And gentlemen.” She bowed to the table of men next to the stage. “I’m Rosie and I’m here to make all of your dreams come true.”

  The place erupted into hoots and hollers.

  “Bring it on, Rosie!”

  “I need my fix, Rosie!”

  “Rosie’s here to take care of you,” she purred into the mic.

  “Show us the man flesh!” One of the guys next to the stage yelled and his friends howled their agreement.

  “Rosie’s got more man flesh than you can handle, baby. And it’s all for you.”

  More screams.

  Realization hit Luanne like a lightning strike.

  Oh. My. God.

  Jack.

  Jack mingled with the other dancers at the back of the stage and sized up the competition. As he saw it, Raging Roy, who was currently on stage, was his biggest competitor. For one thing, he had all of his teeth, and it hadn’t taken Jack long to realize that good dental hygiene could give a guy a real leg up in this contest.

  Karma was truly a bitch. It’d been a real shocker to realize it was he, not Luanne, who had the chance to win the money and save them. He laughed under his breath. How was this shit storm his reality?

  He had an amazing life, one where he was in complete control. Nothing happened that he didn’t let happen. And now here he was about to take his clothes off for money in a room full of rabid women and a few enthusiastic gentlemen.

  “Jack!”

  He jerked around to see Luanne barreling through the crowd. Damn, she was beautiful. He’d used every ounce of self-control to not pin her to that wall earlier and have his very naughty way with her. “Hey.”

  She wiped sweat from her upper lip. “Woo, it’s a mad house in here.”

  His hands went into his pockets. “Yep. These girls and guys like their beefcake.”

  The corners of her lips twitched. But he had to give her credit. She did try to keep a straight face.

  “You’re loving this, aren’t you?” From the corner of his eye he saw the biggest pair of underwear he’d ever seen fly onto the stage. They caught air and slowly drifted to the ground.

  She busted out laughing. “So much.”

  “Go ahead funny girl, laugh it up. Just remember, paybacks are hell.”

  She couldn’t get herself together enough to answer. All she could do was nod.

  “You’re ridiculous.” He turned away so she wouldn’t see him fighting his own laughter.

  “Have you come up with a name?”

  “How do you know I’m going to do it?”

  “Oh, please. It’s a chance for you to strut your stuff. I don’t see you passing on that.”

  That wasn’t it at all. It was a chance for him to get money and keep her safe, but he’d never tell her that. “You do have a point.”

  “So, your name?”

  “It’s a surprise. You’ll find out when everyone else does. Now get out of here so I can concentrate and get into character.”

  “Alright.” Before she left, she turned back to him. “Are you sure?”

  He was touched that she would ask, but he needed to do this. “I’m sure.”

  She nodded.

  He waved his hand down his body. “I’m sure it’d be a crime to deprive the world of this.”

  “Break a leg, Jack-ass. I’ll be in the back.” Her laughter trailed her as she strolled away.

  A guy with a headset on tapped him on the shoulder. “You’re up next.” He peeked down at his clipboard. “What’s your stage name?”

  He glanced at Luanne’s retreating back. “Jack, the Mighty Joystick.”

  Luanne jostled her way through the crowd. She got knocked into a table when one of the members of the bridal party jumped up to tuck a dollar bill into the waistband of the guy on stage.

  “Hey, bitch, get out of the way,” the drunk bridesmaid yelled.

  “Actually, you’re in my way, but I’ll happily move.” Luanne tried to sidestep the drunken girl.

  “You do that.” She was winding up for a fight.

  Luanne held up her hands and tried to get past.

  “You think you’re better than me? Don’t cha?” Spittle flew through the air.

  Luanne leaned to the side, barely dodging the deluge. “Listen, sister, I’m only trying to find a seat. I haven’t given you one thought. Enjoy your night.”

  The woman grabbed her arm. “Hey, don’t you walk away from me.”

  Luanne glanced down at the woman’s hand, then slowly raised her gaze until she met the idiot’s bloodshot eyes. “Sweetheart, if you want to keep that hand I’d advise you to remove it from my arm.”

  “What are you going to do shorty?”

  Anger and a little fear danced on Luanne’s skin. But she wouldn’t let this idiot see it. The advantage she had was that she wasn’t drunk, and she planned to use that in her favor. She leaned forward, then wrenched her arm away.

  The bridesmaid lost her balance and swung out. Big mistake. The minute the bouncers saw her throw a punch they were all over her. Luanne had to give it to the bouncers, they didn’t play. The bridesmaid was escorted from the building before she could say throw the bouquet.

  The bride reached over and touched her arm. “Are you alright?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine.” She was pretty sure she was fine. That had been way more intense than she was comfortable with.

  “I’m sorry about her, she’s an ugly drunk. Would you like to sit down? We have an empty seat now.” She pushed the chair out with her stilettoed foot.

  Luanne peered through the smoke to the back of the room. It would be hard to see Jack from there. “Sure, thanks. I’m Luanne.”

  “I’m Alexa, and this is Amanda, Julia, Shayla, Sidney, Julie, Olivia, and Hannah.” She pointed in the direction of the delinquent bridesmaid. “And that’s Felicia.” The girls waved. “Are you here alone?”

  “No, my friend is one of the dancers.”

  “Really! Which one?”

  Before she could answer, Rosie returned to the stage in all her glory.

  “Ooooh, my darlings, have I got a pretty one for you. And if I’m not mistaken, he’s a Rosie’s virgin.” The cheering hit a new level of enthusiasm. “Without further ado, welcome to the stage Jack, the Mighty Joystick.”

  All the lights went out, and I Want It That Way began to play. Suddenly a huge spot light found Jack. He stood barefoot in his jeans and button-down shirt, and he looked good enough to eat. As the slow beat played he sauntered down the runway-type stage and leisurely unbuttoned his shirt.

  Luanne pointed toward the stage. “That one.”

  “Holy shit, he’s hot.” Her bride friend fanned herself and took a liberal gulp of her drink.

  She glanced back at Jack then back to them. A smile she couldn’t control spread across her face. “Yes, he is.”

  The whole room followed his every move as he grabbed the stripper pole and tenderly guided his fingers up and down it, like the face of a lover. When he began to slowly thrust his hips forward in time with the beat she thought the middle-aged women at the table next to her were going to storm the stage.

  The whole time he made love to the pole, he never took his gaze off Luanne. Sweat broke out at her hairline, and blasts of lustful longing danced along the nerves leading to her core, where heat pooled like bubbling lava in a too-long dormant volcano. Hooo-leee crap.

  The music changed to a driving beat, and Jack ripped off his shirt, grabbed a water bottle she hadn’t noticed before, and poured water over his head and down his chest.

  The. Crowd. Went. Ballistic.

  Women charged the stage, slipping money in his waistband like he was a sexual slot machine. The group of men were practically crawling on top of each other to get to him.


  Chaos reigned around her, but she was helpless to do anything but revel in the heat consuming every atom of her being. He shook his head and drops of water flew in every direction. Time slowed as he dropped to his knees and undulated his hips. It slammed to a stop when his eyes connected with hers. The things he communicated with that look...Lord almighty.

  He danced, he teased, he charmed, and he was pretty damn spectacular. One lady grabbed his tight buns, and he turned to wag his finger at the naughty move. All was forgiven though when he laughed and kissed her on the cheek. That gesture earned him another twenty. He worked the crowd, even coming off the stage and giving a few quick lap dances, all the while raking in the cash.

  Then he turned in her direction and slowly made his way to their table, each step he took guided by the slow, pulsing rhythm of the music. He was a panther on the hunt. Her new friends nearly fainted.

  The bride was the first at the table to be on the receiving end of his panty-melting gyrations. One last take me to bed or lose me forever look and he moved to the next girl, and the next, but Luanne knew he was coming for her. He did all the right things to get more bills stuffed into his open jeans, but his smoldering look told her this wasn’t just about the cash. The blood scalded her veins the closer he got. She welcomed it.

  Burn me alive, Jack. Burn. Me. Alive.

  The panther’s eyes lit with amber flames when he yanked her out of the chair. Her pulse hammered in her ears, breathing became unnecessary, and the noise from the crowed dropped away. There was nothing but Jack and the music. The beat. The heat. All of it spiraling the tension in her body to breaking point.

  He moved behind her and slid his hands down her stomach. Her arms wrapped back around his hips to keep him where she wanted him. She no longer cared that they were in the middle of a large audience. They swayed to the left, then the right, their hips in perfect unison to the throb that vibrated around them. Her lids drifted closed and she relaxed into him, only to come undone when he sank his teeth into the soft flesh of her neck.