Brides on the Run (Books 1-4)

by Jami Albright

  “We couldn’t possibly impose.” He would not sleep here. He would not sleep here. He would not—”

  “We’d love to,” Luanne piped up.

  What had the woman done? He squeezed her hand, but not in a thanks for helping kind of way, more like a sleep with one eye open way.

  “Good. Come on Leslie, let’s get their rooms ready.”

  “Room.” He slipped his arm around Luanne and looked adoringly into her stunned face. “I can’t spend even one night away from my girl.” A sick satisfaction settled over him at being able to get her back so quickly.

  Mimi looked like she might protest, but Leslie steered her from the room.

  “What in the hell, Jack,” Luanne whisper yelled when the pair were gone.

  He tightened his hold on her. “If I have to be miserable tonight, so do you, darlin’.” He bopped her on her nose.

  She nearly slipped off the sofa trying to wriggle out of his hold. “Get off me. I can’t believe you.”

  “I can’t believe you. How dare you accept an invitation to stay here? You were out of line. Besides, you said you were here for me.”

  She jumped up and straightened her clothes. “I meant I was there for moral support, not to warm your bed. And didn’t you see Mimi’s face fall when you said we couldn’t impose? How are you, by the way?”

  He rested his ankle on his knee and stretched his arm across the back of the sofa. He wouldn’t let her see the shit storm brewing inside him. “Right as rain.”

  She shook her head. “Liar.”

  “I can tell you all about it while we’re cuddled up together tonight.”

  Luanne climbed the stairs to their room like a woman being led to the gallows, while Leslie pointed out more photos of Jack that lined the staircase. She’d done this to herself.

  Suck it up, buttercup.

  When would she stop trying to run other people’s lives? Hell, she couldn’t even run her own. What made her think she could run Jack’s?

  Jack. What a jerk. She actually owed him, because if he hadn’t been so blasé about the whole situation she would’ve wanted to comfort him, and that was a recipe made for disaster. He had to be hurting. However, in true Jack fashion, he hid behind the devil-may-care attitude that was so fake and infuriating.

  “Here you go.” They followed Leslie into the room. She looked between the two of them. “Do you all have luggage?”

  Luanne felt, and probably looked, like a beggar standing there with her meager belongings in plastic bags. Why had she talked Jack out of buying the overnight bag to put their things in? Oh, yeah, she was scared of running out of money.

  “Unfortunately, Leslie, we were robbed on our way here, so this is all we have.” Jack held up his own plastic bag.

  Leslie’s delicate hand went to her chest. “Oh no, you poor things. You weren’t hurt were you?”

  His warm arm went around Luanne’s waist. “No. We’re fine. Luanne tried to fight ’em off, but they still took my wallet and car.”

  His fingers massaged her waist, sending quivers rippling all the way down to her toes. This crap had to stop. She spun out of his hold. “Somebody had to.”

  Leslie laughed. “You two crack me up. This is the old master so there’s a bathroom through that door, and there’s also another bath down the hall. Mitch and Kyle built mom and me our own master suites on the bottom floor. The stairs are too much for Mom most days, and we all thought I should be close to her.” She walked to the door. “You have the second floor all to yourselves, so you can go crazy.” She winked at them before leaving them alone.

  The silence was a living, breathing thing that stalked between them like a big cat up to no good. “I’ll take the bathroom at the end of the hall.” Luanne scurried out of the room. She hated when she scurried, and she’d done it more in the last week than she had in her whole life.

  The hot water in the shower released the too-tight muscles in her shoulders. She and her common sense had a little talk, and with every minute that passed her defenses grew stronger.

  I don’t have anything to worry about. Jack is his least attractive self when he’s playing Mr. Suave, and right now he’s going for Mr. Suave Universe.

  His arrogance set off all of her triggers. She hated that side of him, or any man, because she’d been burned by it a few too many times. Memories of her father sauntering into Gigi’s house like he owned the whole place, acting like there wasn’t a thing wrong, like it hadn’t been three months since they saw him. Or like he hadn’t sold a piece of Gigi’s property because he needed extra capital for a business deal. Or like he hadn’t missed her graduation to go to Vegas with a potential business partner.

  That was why, when he came back into her life nine months ago, begging for forgiveness and pledging to be the father he should’ve always been, she’d bought it hook, line, and fiancé.

  The scrape of the shower rings on the metal rod echoed off the walls when she threw the shower curtain aside and stepped out. The bathroom could’ve been something off Scarlett’s ‘Dream Home’ Pinterest page. Tall ceilings, bead board wrapping the space, with creamy yellow paint covering the walls. The big, fluffy towels felt soft against her skin and smelled like lavender. This was a home, and a lot of love was woven in every room.

  She pulled the tags from her new undies, sleep shirt and shorts. How slowly could one person dress for bed? The pep talk she’d given herself in the shower was a distant memory. Hopefully Jack would already be asleep when she returned to the bedroom.

  He wasn’t.

  He was sitting on the the love seat on the far side of the room, in a pair of athletic shorts, with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. The misery that poured off him was like a magnet. She made her way to him and ran the fingers of one hand through his damp, spiked hair.

  He raised his head and pinned her with his tortured expression. Pain turned his beautiful eyes to pools of aged whiskey.

  “Oh, Jack.”

  “Lou. I…”

  She gripped his shoulders and before she could talk herself out of it, she climbed into his lap. Damn the rational, self-preservation argument for staying away from this man. He’d been gutted tonight.

  His big hands slid under her shirt and around to her back. “I need you.”

  She ran her thumb over the dimple in his chin then took his face in her hands. “I know.”

  He took her mouth in a crash of lips and tongue, kissing her like a man clinging to the side of a cliff. Desperate, anxious, and completely sure she could save him.

  Panic tried to claw its way through the passion. She wasn’t the solution to his problems. She couldn’t save herself, let alone another person.

  Air. She needed air.

  When she broke the kiss to breathe, he kissed up the column of her neck to her ear. “You are the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

  Passion kicked panic in the ass, and why wouldn’t it with the way he clung to her?

  The noise she made was all about sex. Great sex. Sex with this man.

  He chuckled and nipped her neck. “Listen to you.” His tongue lapped at her ear lobe right before he bit down. “I want you too.”

  “Are you going to talk me to death, counselor, or take me to bed?”

  She closed her lids and let the rumble of his growl turn her desire into a throbbing need between her legs. With his big hands around her butt, nipping kisses on her neck, and rough licks on her hand that clung to his shoulder, she could barely think.

  Wait.

  Rough licks on her hand?

  She opened her eyes and screamed, “Cat!” Before she knew it, she was across the room and leaning on the bed.

  The confused look on his face almost made her laugh. But her heart was pounding too hard. Her hand shook as she pointed to the frightened feline who’d jumped to the windowsill. “There’s a cat. I don’t like cats.”

  He turned and retrieved the scared kitty. “Hello, girl.” The cat curled into Jack’s chest. “Did tha
t mean girl scare you? Take it from me, buddy, she’s all bark and no bite.”

  She scowled, and he laughed.

  “Why are you afraid of cats? They’re just cats. Are you allergic?”

  “No.” She started to give him the laundry list of reasons she didn’t like the creatures and realized she didn’t actually have one of her own. “I have no idea.”

  He looked more than confused. “Marcus doesn’t like cats.” She shrugged. “I guess I picked up his prejudice.”

  Geez, she hated admitting that. But wasn’t that the first step in any recovery, admit you have a problem? And when it came to her father she had a serious problem. The same one all the women in her family had—desperation for his attention and approval.

  “Do you want to pet her?”

  Did she? The cat was sort of cute. She chewed her lip, because while she didn’t personally have anything against cats, she’d heard Marcus rail against them for years. So what? Just because he didn’t like them had nothing to do with her. His hold over her stopped right now. “Sure.”

  Cautiously, tentatively, she stretched her hand toward the cat. The fur behind her ears was soft and warm. Purrs coming from the thing sounded like a tiny jet engine. “Her purring is so loud.”

  “She likes you. That’s what they do when they’re content.”

  A gorgeous man holding a cat was way more of a turn-on than she could’ve ever guessed. “She’s probably content because you’re holding her against your naked chest. It’s a spectacular chest. Isn’t that right, girl?”

  The immediate change in his demeanor was palpable. His hot stare devoured any control she’d gained from jumping away. Damn. She wanted to purr too when she let her gaze travel from his face down those sculpted abs to the obvious bulge still tenting his shorts.

  An insistent knock on the door interrupted their eye foreplay. “Jack? Luanne? I’m sorry to bother you.” It was Leslie. “But you haven’t seen my cat, have you?”

  Luanne dropped her head with a sigh and went to open the door. Was she grateful for the reprieve or not? “Yes, Leslie, the little hussy has attached herself to Jack’s chest.”

  “There you are. You bad girl.” She took the cat from Jack, who’d strategically placed a throw pillow over his groin. “Tallulah, I thought you’d gotten outside.” She buried her face in the feline’s fur. Pretty pink stains bloomed on her cheeks when she gave Luanne and Jack her attention. “Sorry, my husband gave her to me before he was deployed the last time.”

  Jack leaned against the footboard of the bed. “Is he…”

  A sad smile ghosted across her face. “He didn’t make it back. That was five years ago. He was career military. Anyway, our kids were out of the house, living their lives, and he didn’t want me to be alone, so he gave me Tallulah. And now I can’t sleep without her in the bed with me.” She smoothed her long black hair from her face. “Silly, really, but…” She shook her head. “I’ll let you all get some sleep now.”

  The click of the door rang through the quiet room like a gunshot. What was supposed to happen now? Luanne glanced at the bed then to Jack. He was impossible to read, but she thought she saw the same uncertainty in his expression that was knocking inside her.

  “I’m—”

  “We—”

  They started at the same time.

  He held his hand out to her. “You first.”

  Thank God for that little feline furball, for keeping her from making a big mistake. “I’m going to sleep on the love seat.” She slid a fuzzy blanket from the foot of the bed and headed for the small sofa.

  “No. I’ll sleep there. You take the bed.”

  Echoes of his touch still rang through her body, and sexual tension still crackled between them. She had to break it or crawl back into his lap. She made a production of eyeing his long, tall body and then the love seat, then raised a brow.

  He chuckled. “Point made. I’ll take the bed.”

  She noticed that they both ignored the pink, panting, horny elephant in the room. Nothing had changed between them. He was still Jack, and she was still Luanne, and they were both in emotional crisis. That was definitely not the time to make life-altering decisions. All she knew was that she liked this man. Really liked him. But that wasn’t a good enough reason to have sex.

  Sigh.

  She was so freaking confused.

  He climbed into bed, while she nestled into the couch.

  He flicked the light off and the silence was ear piercing. “I’m sorry, Luanne. That won’t happen again.”

  “It won’t?” She squeezed the words past the dry glob of regret caught in her throat.

  “Well, actually, I hope it will happen again, but not like that. I won’t be another person who uses you, Luanne. You deserve so much more than that.”

  “Oh.” What else could she say? The confusion swirling around her heart intensified into a tornado. No one had ever worried about her feelings.

  “Good night, trouble.”

  “Night.”

  He was wrong, so very wrong. She wasn’t trouble. He was.

  Chapter 20

  Jack’s legs churned, eating up the road that led to Mimi’s house. The rays of dawn flicked through the trees, making the asphalt glitter in the early morning light. Luanne was right, it had to be thirty degrees cooler here. It was considerably more pleasant to run under these conditions than the sweltering Texas heat. The brisk air heightened the dopamine coursing through his brain. Thankfully, he had his running shoes on when they’d been robbed, because the only thing that would calm his mind today was to run as far and as fast as he could.

  His brain ached with the information it was trying to process. People he never knew existed had pictures of him plastered all over their walls. They loved him. How was that possible? His mother and Mitch had done this for him. Both had sacrificed their own happiness for his sake. What was he supposed to do with that?

  Then there was Luanne. God, he’d wanted her more than air last night, but it would’ve been wrong to take her like that. He needed to buy Tallulah a can of tuna for stopping what he couldn’t. And that confused the hell out of him. He’d been out of control. He couldn’t have stopped the raging need for her any more than he could stop the next beat of his heart.

  The feel of her still clung to his hands, the smell of her still filled his head, and the taste of her still tingled on his tongue. It had ruined him for the rest of his life. But he wouldn’t use her.

  Fury chased him even now at how close he’d come to being no better than her horrible family. He pushed his body faster. Harder. His tough girl would’ve given herself to put light in the darkness of his heart. The next time would be when they were both on even footing, when it was her idea and not because he was about to fall apart.

  The next time.

  Would there even be a next time? She was skittish and afraid and oblivious to the abuse she’d suffered. Her family had fucked with her head and heart until she trusted no one except Scarlett. He wanted to pound the shit out of her father for the crap he’d dished out over the years. Until she could recognize what had been done to her and see he was nothing like that, they wouldn’t have a future She’d always wonder what his end game was.

  “You’re my end game, Thumbelina,” he panted. Saying the words out loud gave him absolute clarity about his objective. No matter how his family’s lies, sacrifices, and secrets shook out for him, Luanne Price was going to be part of his future.

  As the house came into view his chest refused to hold the cool morning air. He and Luanne had time to figure out their stuff. But his time with these people was limited, and he still had questions. Their answers would determine whether he continued this crazy road trip or not.

  Mimi was sitting in a rocker on the porch with a cup of coffee. “You’re up with the chickens.”

  He grabbed the porch rail and stretched the quads of his right leg. “I’m an early riser, even when I don’t have anywhere to be.”

  “Mornin’s w
hen I get my thinkin’ done.” She sipped from her cup.

  He switched legs. “Me too.”

  “I expect you’ve got a lot to think on.” The rocker creaked as she pushed off with her slippered foot.

  He snorted. “Ya think?”

  “Watch your smart mouth, boy. I missed a lot of years of washing your mouth out with soap that I could make up for right now.”

  He watched her rocking with her eyes closed and a soft smile playing on her lips. “Yes, ma’am. My apologies.”

  She nodded. “That’s better. So tell me what you’re trying to outrun.”

  He sat on the step, then bent forward to stretch his hamstrings. “I’m not sure I can even put it all into words.”

  “I’d say to start with the hardest part.”

  “I get that he stayed away while I was growing up. It would’ve been hard on me. But why didn’t he ever try to help us?” Here it was, the down and dirty part of this reunion, and it pissed him off to discover how important her answer was to him. “Mimi, we lived in our car for a time. We never had anything. My dad tried, but he was a blue-collar worker doing the best he could. We were on government assistance. My mom had to take me to the free clinic when I was sick, for God’s sake.”

  She picked at the rocking chair arm, and continued to rock. “Some of these questions you’ll have to ask him, but I can tell you that Robin wouldn’t take a dime from him. She respected your daddy too much to take another man’s handouts. Plus, by the time things got so bad she was in love with your papa. How would she have explained the money?”

  Several stuttered breaths jumped around his chest and eased the ache there. However, with every answer came ten more questions. He followed the line of ants climbing up the porch rail. “How do you know so much about her? She never told me any of these things.”

  “Of course she didn’t. This was grown-up stuff, not kid stuff. We exchanged letters until you were about six or seven. After that she said she couldn’t do it anymore.”

  He tried to engage the logical part of his brain to help sort through all that she was saying. Tried to find the part that had helped him navigate the treacherous social waters of high school, the part that knew exactly how much he could party in college without losing his 4.0 GPA, the part that he evoked when he was slogging away in law school, and the part that helped him separate emotion from fact when he struck out to represent clients on his own.