Brides on the Run (Books 1-4)

by Jami Albright

  “Yes.”

  “Can I get you a cup?”

  “Yes, please.” Sexy and thoughtful. How was she supposed to resist that deadly combination?

  He hesitated, gave the box a long look and glanced at Joyce with uncertainty clearly written on his face. It was obvious he was out of his depth. Joyce took mercy on him and directed him to the pot of tea she’d already made.

  Gavin gave her a grateful smile, and Joyce dropped the cup she was holding. Yep, he had that effect on women. Thankfully her dad was there to catch the mug before it hit the floor. Floyd tactfully turned a slightly discombobulated Joyce away from his son-in-law and led the poor woman to her seat.

  “Gavin, you’re so sweet,” Honey gushed.

  “Yes, it’s very thoughtful.” Joyce agreed, still a little dazzled as she fanned her fuchsia cheeks.

  “How do you take your tea?” Gavin held up a pitcher of cream and the sugar bowl.

  “Two sugars and a splash of cream, please.”

  He really is making me tea.

  Her heart did a loop-de-loop as he dropped the first cube in. He was careful not to let any splash out and make a mess. His lip was caught between his teeth and his brows were furrowed in deep concentration, like a boy solving a difficult math equation. One more cube was carefully added to the steaming liquid.

  “Scarlett, darlin’, how did you sleep last night?” Honey rocked on her heels as she asked the question.

  “I slept fine.” Only half her attention went to her aunt. The other half was totally focused on the man with the teacup.

  He stirred her cup one more time after adding the cream, and brought it to her. She gave him a grateful smile and sniffed the sweet aroma that she knew now would always remind her of him. This would be so much easier if he were the classic self-absorbed rock star. But Gavin didn’t seem to be that guy. He’d surprised her with humor and kindness. There was also a vulnerability about him that was intriguing and a little heartbreaking.

  “Are you suuuure you slept okay?” Her aunt tried again.

  “Yes, Honey. Why do you ask?” Scarlett made her way to the table, careful not to spill her tea. She was confused by the question.

  “You look kind of worn out. I was concerned something kept you awake last night.” The older woman winked at Gavin when he took his seat at the table.

  Scarlett stiffened. Uh-oh. This was not good. Now she understood all the geriatric concern about her sleep habits.

  “I think she looks lovely.” Joyce gave Scarlett’s arm a squeeze. She knew as well as Scarlett where this conversation was headed.

  “I had a great night’s sleep. How about you?” Maybe her aunt would take the bait and change the subject. No such luck.

  “You know Joyce, you’re right. She does have a certain glow about her, doesn’t she?”

  Scarlett delicately dabbed her mouth with her napkin. “Thank you. I’m using a new face wash.”

  The scheming woman shook her head. “No, I don’t think it’s what you’re washing your face with. There’s something else goin’ on.”

  “Nope. Not a thing.” Scarlett sipped her tea and pretended she didn’t have a nosey, inappropriate aunt.

  Seeing she wasn’t getting the responses she wanted from Scarlett, she zeroed in on another victim. “How about you Gavin, how did you sleep?”

  “Molly Jean.” The warning in Floyd’s voice was undeniable.

  Honey was the picture of innocence. “What?”

  “You know what. Hush up.” Her father gave Honey a zip it now look.

  His sister rolled her eyes. “I don’t know what the big deal is. We’re all adults here.”

  By some unspoken consensus, everyone filled their plates with gusto and disregarded Honey.

  Scarlett puffed out a relieved sigh. Hopefully, the family’s matriarch would lose interest in the topic and drop it.

  But the old girl was made of sterner stuff and would not be thwarted. “All’s I’m sayin’ is that you get real tired makin’—”

  “Biscuits,” Scarlett shouted. “I know I get real tired making biscuits.” She smiled around the table. “All that kneading and pulling, kneading and pulling, whew, it can be so tiring. My hands ache just thinking about it. Yes, making biscuits can be exhausting and can be nerve racking. I know I was nervous my first time. But Grandma said, ‘Girl, get on that horse and ride.’”

  Why am I still talking?

  “She taught me a secret to making flaky biscuits. In fact, I’ve never known anyone else who uses this technique. You remember, don’t you, Honey? I roll my biscuits out and sprinkle them with a good amount of flour then I roll the dough into a long tubular shape. It takes a lot of coaxing to get the dough to behave. You have to play with it a little.”

  Shut up, shut up, shut up!

  “This can be tricky. If you don’t show it the proper encouragement, the whole thing will deflate. The secret is to coat your hands with flour then rub them along the log, back and forth, back and forth. After you see it’s going to do what you want, then that’s when you put some muscle into it until you’re satisfied.”

  “Then,” she exhaled. “You roll it out and cut your biscuits.” The last words faded off into nothing.

  She squeezed her lids shut and lowered her head. What just happened? Can a brain have diarrhea? Her face and neck were on fire. She briefly thought about running from the room but remembered what her cheer coach, Miss Trish, used to say.

  Smile and no one will know how badly you’ve messed up.

  She plastered on a huge smile and slowly looked up. Miss Trish was a damn liar. Her daddy, Honey, and Joyce were staring at her, all in varying degrees of horror and shock. No one said anything. She smiled bigger. Maybe she hadn’t had the right amount of wattage to sufficiently convince them she wasn’t an idiot. It didn’t work.

  With all her courage, she turned to Gavin, expecting to see the same expression on his face that the others wore. Instead, his eyes danced with amusement and a spark of heat. Never taking his gaze from hers, he raised a biscuit to his mouth and took a bite.

  Oh, my.

  Chapter 11

  Gavin checked his phone for the billionth time while he rode in the back of Scarlett’s fuel-efficient, ultra-safe, mid-sized sedan. The PI hadn’t called, texted, or emailed. Damn it. Every minute the man didn’t call was another minute he was away from his son.

  If it was his son. Shit, what a mess.

  “Are you okay back there, Gavin?” Honey asked.

  “I’m fine. As long as Scarlett gets us there before I die of old age.” They were going so slow they were practically going backwards.

  Honestly, Honey probably drove faster than his wife.

  He inspected a bag marked Emergency Supplies on the seat next to him. There was enough stuff in there to survive the apocalypse. “You believe in zombies, Scarlett?”

  “Huh?”

  “Nothing.”

  The overly prepared grandma trapped in a delicious twenty-five-year-old’s body gave him a dismissive eye roll in the rearview mirror.

  “I can’t thank you enough for doin’ this for me, Gavin.” Honey looked into the visor mirror and ran a pink-tipped finger around the outside of her red lips. “The girls are gonna die when they see you.” She gave Scarlett a worried look. “I hope Martha Barker can handle it. You know the last time we saw Mickey Gilly in Louisiana she started havin’ heart palpitations, and he looks like a shriveled-up ol’ raisin. One look at Gavin, here, and she’ll probably keel right over.”

  “Um…thanks, I guess?”

  “Don’t act like you don’t know you’re hotter than fire, boy,” the geriatric said.

  “Okay,” he chuckled. Slow molasses filled his chest when the older woman gave him the most adoring smile. The kind of smile a doting grandmother gives to a favorite grandson.

  Careful, Bain, that kind of thinking is very dangerous.

  Scarlett glanced at him in the mirror again. She sucked in her cheeks, in an obvious eff
ort to stifle a laugh. Not interested in sharing a moment with her, he looked away. The conversation he’d overheard before they left the house still rang in his ears. She’d wasted no time in making sure the money was in her bank account.

  Bitterness bit at his insides. It was totally irrational, but he felt he’d been used. Angry resentment of all the times he’d been taken advantage of and exploited by women simmered beneath the surface.

  The last year bleeding out on a therapist’s couch, to control the eruption of that boiling sewage, had helped, but two days in Scarlett Kelly Bain’s company threatened to erode all the ground he’d won.

  He was pissed, but why? He’d long ago accepted that people sucked, which meant low expectations for the entire human race. So why was he holding her to a higher standard than he did everyone else?

  Because she seemed the most genuine person he’d ever met, devoted to her family and honest to a fault. Then there was the fucking money, which made her…what?

  He was so damn confused.

  It didn’t seem to matter that he was using her too. Or that he’d paid her to get what he wanted. He shouldn’t want more from her. This was a business deal like thousands of others in his career. The stupid grudge was because she wasn’t who he wanted her to be.

  His thoughts and, if he was honest, his feelings about her were like a hamster on a wheel, no matter how fast they moved, they went absolutely nowhere. Until he knew the real Scarlett, he needed to leave her the hell alone.

  All this whining made him sick.

  The car slowed even more as they entered the city limits of Zachsville. He chuckled when he saw the city limits sign: Zachsville Texas, population 3500 good people and 3 or 4 grumpy old farts. He’d missed that yesterday when he and Jack blew through town. Was that just yesterday? It felt like a month ago.

  “I can’t wait to see Sally Pruitt’s face. She thinks she knows everything.”

  “So is this Sally person your arch enemy or something?” He pulled at the seatbelt that had tightened when Scarlett slammed on the brakes for no apparent reason.

  “Oh no, Sally has been Honey’s best friend since they were in grade school. But you wouldn’t know it by the way they bicker with each other.” She cut her aunt a pointed look.

  Honey smirked at Gavin. “It’s complicated.”

  Scarlett burst out laughing. “Complicated, huh? You know you’d die for Sally. You’re just mad she knew something before you.”

  “Yes, and whose fault is that?” She turned sideways in her seat and pinned them both with a look. “I have something I want to say to you two. We will have a wedding here in Zachsville.” The car swerved violently. “Scarlett, honey, try to keep the car on the road.”

  “You’re the closest thing I have to a daughter, and I love you. I’ve been planning your wedding since you were a tiny girl. I’m not lettin’ a quickie marriage in Lass Vegas rob me of giving you the day you deserve.” She sat back in her seat. “There, I said my peace.”

  Scarlett’s voice quivered a little, “Um, Honey…I don’t—”

  “Whatever you want, Honey,” Gavin cut in. That insanity came out of my mouth. He jerked his gaze to Scarlett’s panicked expression.

  Honey crossed her arms and nodded. “You’re darn-tootin’. I’d like to have the wedding at the farm. I’ll talk to Brother Randy tomorrow. Do you think he’ll have a problem with that, Scarlett?”

  “No.” Her voice was barely audible.

  “Who’s Brother Randy?” he asked Honey, but kept a wary eye on his wife, who seemed to be blinking away tears.

  “Oh, he’s our pastor. You haven’t met him yet, Gavin.” Honey dug in her purse and pulled out a pen and notepad.

  Now he understood. The freaked-out woman behind the wheel might confuse him in many of ways, but God and family meant everything to her. Getting married in front of a Whitney Houston impersonator in Vegas was one thing, but saying vows in front of her pastor and relatives was another thing all together.

  Damn, he really screwed this up. He should cut his losses and change the subject. “Honey, how long have you lived in Zachsville?”

  “Oh, Lordy, I’ve been here my whole life.” She put her list away. “And I’m not gonna tell ya how long that is,” she said, and chuckled.

  He laughed as Honey told him a few details about when she was a young girl. Scarlett gave him a small smile in the mirror and mouthed, thank you.

  “Oooh, we’re already causin’ a stink.” Honey waved at a couple in front of the laundromat. “After we go to the beauty shop we can walk over to the pharmacy and see who’s there.”

  “No. Honey, we’ll go to the Dip-n-Do, so you can say hello, and then we’re going home. I’m here to keep you from manipulating Gavin into parading all over town.”

  “You’re right dear,” Honey said with absolute sincerity.

  Gavin didn’t believe her for a minute.

  Scarlett drove down the main street, which opened onto a town square. Maybe if he got out and pushed the car, they could pick up enough speed to get them there today. Finally, she pulled the car into a parking spot in front of a pink building with a giant wooden pair of scissors above the door.

  Gavin exited the vehicle and opened Honey’s door. Her hand was soft in his, and the scent of baby powder and gardenias filled his head when she stood next to him. She wore cowboy boots, loose fitting jeans and a purple t-shirt with a pink sequined rearing horse on the front. Below the horse was written This ain’t my first rodeo.

  They walked arm-in-arm up three tall steps. Gavin looked toward the building. “Are they watching?”

  Honey smiled up at him, red lipstick on her two front teeth. “Yes, they are.” She used her free hand to remove her huge white sunglasses and hooked them in the neck of her shirt.

  Scarlett stood with one arm resting on top of the car, and the other draped over the driver’s side door. “I’ll be back shortly. Gavin, if you need anything text me. You did put my number in your phone, right?”

  “Yeah, I’ve got it. Don’t worry, we’ll be fine.” Did she think he was an idiot? Compared to the rest of his life this trip to town was a piece of cake.

  “You two behave yourselves,” she called after them.

  They ignored her.

  A bell tinkled when the salon door opened and two women walked out of the shop. The younger of the two said, “See you next week, Ruby. Remember, don’t wash those lovely locks for forty-eight hours or you’ll ruin your perm.”

  “Thank you, Maureen. See you next week,” the other woman said, and walked away down the street. Her hair was curled so tight to her head that it looked like a gray helmet.

  “Honey Jenkins. I didn’t expect to see you here today.” Maureen’s tone indicated that’s exactly what she expected.

  “I came for some of that good smellin’ shampoo you have,” Honey said.

  Maureen pulled a cigarette from her smock pocket and lit it. “Who’s your friend?”

  Honey’s mouth parted and she touched her hand to her throat, feigning ignorance to the rock star beside her. She didn’t fool anyone. “Oh. This is Scarlett’s new husband, Gavin Bain. Gavin, this is Maureen, she owns the Dip-n-Do.”

  Gavin knew this was his cue. He threw an arm around Honey and smiled his best People Magazine smile. “Maureen, it’s nice to meet you.”

  The shop owner plucked a piece of nicotine from her tongue and flicked it away. “I saw it on the news. Sounds like Scarlett went stark ravin’ crazy when she was out in Vegas.” She exhaled and cigarette smoke engulfed her like a noxious halo. “He’s good-lookin’ and all, but I don’t think he’s worth losin’ your good name over.”

  Gavin knew how true the woman’s words were, but they still stung.

  “Maureen Coulter, you take that back right this minute.” Gavin jerked at Honey’s outburst. Her soft affable eyes were now hard as granite and shooting anger at Maureen. “I will take my business to Lovely Tresses faster than you can blink. You do not want me as an enemy, M
aureen. I know things.”

  He was glad Honey defended Scarlett. He was frustrated with his wife, but it was unfair for people to talk trash about her. Admittedly, he didn’t understand much about families, but what he did know was that they were supposed to stand up for each other.

  “You don’t talk about my family.” Honey jabbed her finger in Maureen’s direction. “You know how precious Scarlett is to me, and Gavin is a Kelly now. He will be treated with courtesy and respect, or I promise you, folks will know about that good-for-nothin’ son of yours and his interest in—”

  “Fine.” Maureen held her hands up in surrender. “I take it back. Goodness, Molly Jean, you get so testy.” The beautician laughed nervously. “I’m sorry I spoke ill of your family.”

  “It’s not me you need to apologize to.” If possible, Honey’s glare became more menacing.

  “Okaaay.” Maureen looked at Gavin. “I’m sorry I was rude, Gavin.”

  “That’s better.” Honey took Gavin by the arm and started down the street. He followed obediently.

  “What about the shampoo?” Maureen hollered.

  “I’ve decided I don’t like the smell as much as I thought I did,” Honey snapped.

  The bright Texas sun beat down on his head. He barely noticed. He expended all his energy trying to recover from the shock of Honey’s words. Never had a woman defended him. Not once. They always blamed him. For everything. Starting with his junkie mom and continuing on to the last woman he briefly dated. According to the opposite sex, he’d been responsible for his mother’s addiction, been emotionally unavailable, and everything in between. Hell, even Scarlett blamed him for this screwed-up marriage.

  “I’m hungry, how about some lunch at the café?” Honey interrupted his mental ramblings.

  “What?”

  “I said let’s go to the café to get a bite to eat. I’ve decided to let you treat me to lunch.” She was already moving down the sidewalk.

  “Scarlett said to wait here for her.”

  Honey turned to him, fist on her round hips. “Do you always do what people tell you to do?” She raised her precariously drawn-on eyebrows in challenge.