Brides on the Run (Books 1-4)

by Jami Albright

  Clyde shoved a toothpick into the corner of his mouth. “So anyway, what I was sayin’, Jack, you need to listen to my Beau and give him one of them record deals.”

  “Well…I…um—”

  “Jack, do you still play the guitar?” Mimi asked.

  Thanks for the save, Mimi.

  Luanne’s head whipped around so fast he was worried she might fall off the bench. “You play guitar?”

  “As I understand it he sings too. Or at least he used to.” Mimi beamed with pride.

  He took a minute to digest the fact that this woman knew of his secret talent. If his mother was alive they’d be having one serious conversation. “Yes, Mimi, I still play, and I can sing a little.”

  “What? Why haven’t I ever heard you sing?” Luanne had forgotten about her food.

  “You probably have. I sang backup on Gavin’s last record. Our backup singer got strep throat and I had to fill in.” He shrugged and continued eating. He didn’t like talking about this subject.

  Mimi clapped her hands. “When Beau gets here you two should do a duet.”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that.”

  “Yeah, Jack. You and Beau should definitely do a duet.” Luanne’s cat-like smirk told him she was loving his discomfort.

  “We’ll have to ask Beau.” He pushed his plate away.

  “Ask Beau what?” A guy a few years younger than Jack walked up to the table and squeezed Clyde’s shoulders. He extended his hand to Jack. “Beau Callen.”

  “Jack Avery. And this is—”

  “Luanne Price.” Luanne reached for Beau’s hand, and be damned if she wasn’t wearing the goofiest grin he’d ever seen. Sure the guy was pretty, but come on. Have some pride.

  “Oh, Beau, you’re here.” Mimi smiled.

  Beau bent and kissed Mimi’s cheek. “Hey, Aunt Beulah.”

  Everyone at the table laughed, except Jack, Luanne, and Mimi.

  Jack’s grandmother gave her great-nephew a squinty glare. “Boy, if I’ve told you once I’ve told you a thousand times. You can call me Mimi, sweetie, or good-lookin’, but if you call me Beulah one more time I’m gonna jerk a knot in your tail.”

  The table erupted in laughter again.

  “This is the oldest-running feud in our family,” Leslie said. “She’s threatened to jerk a knot in his tail since he was nine years old and found out her real name. It hasn’t done one bit of good.”

  Beau nuzzled Mimi’s cheek. “I’m still your favorite, though, aren’t I, Mimi?”

  “Go get on that stage and sing for your supper, before I change my mind about allowing you to live. Unless you’re hungry now?”

  “Nah, I’ll eat later. Let me go set up.”

  Clyde began cleaning his teeth in earnest with a toothpick. “You’ll listen to my boy sing and then we’ll talk.”

  “Sure.” Jack wasn’t sure what he was answering. His attention was on Luanne, who was following Beau’s progress from their table to the makeshift stage. “Really?”

  The dreamy and unrepentant look she gave him caused an unfamiliar feeling to take root below his breastbone, and it wasn’t at all pleasant. If he had to name it, he’d have to call it jealousy. But that was ridiculous. He didn’t get jealous. Other men were jealous of him.

  “He’s pretty,” she said with a giggle.

  “Get a hold of yourself, it’s embarrassing.”

  Leslie leaned into their space. “He is the best-looking of us all.” She glanced at Jack. “Present company excluded.”

  “Whatever.” He did his best to pretend he didn’t care.

  Leslie and Luanne laughed.

  She’d been busted ogling Beau Callen, but come on. The guy was hot damn on a stick. Tall like Jack, and wiry, he had that long, confident walk of a man who knew his own sex appeal and would use it at will. His eyes, aged whiskey in sunlight, were the same color as Jack’s, and they had the same jaw, but that was where the similarities ended. Beau’s hair was blonde and the longish curls that stuck out under his cowboy hat did nothing to soften his strong, masculine face. He was rougher somehow, like life had ridden him hard and put him up wet. Sure, he joked with Mimi, but whereas Jack’s charm was an extension of him and flowed off him in waves, Beau’s was a mask he pulled on and took off at will. Maybe. Hell, what did she know?

  Clyde was telling Jack that he was Beau’s manager, and he’d be negotiating his son’s contract with Jack. She took pity on the guy. “Walk with me, Jack. You don’t mind, do you Clyde?” She gave him her best Miss Corn Harvest smile.

  “Um…” For a moment she worried that she might’ve poured it on a little too thick—the old guy seemed to have trouble forming words, But then he rallied. “No, that’s fine. You should get closer to the stage anyway, so you can get a good look at Beau.”

  “We’ll do that. My new goal in life is to get a good look at Beau.” She winked and everyone laughed. Everyone except Jack, who pinched her arm. “Ouch.”

  He took her by the hand and led her behind an old garage. Once they were out of sight he put her back to the worn boards of the building, anchored her with his body, and kissed the ever-lovin’ shit out of her. “So you want to get a better look at Beau?”

  “Yes—ahhh…”

  His warm fingers traced the skin above the v-neck of her tank. Goosebumps danced along the swell of her breast. His soft lips were at her ear. “I can think of better things for you to do with your time, Luanne.”

  “Oh, really?” She’d meant the words to sound sassy, but they came out on a needy moan as, one torturously slow kiss after another, he made his way along her jaw to her mouth. The fragrance of the azaleas and rhododendrons that circled Mimi’s yard, combined with his wicked tongue, made it hard to think, let alone be sassy.

  His hand moved to cradle her face, and his mouth hovered just above hers. “Want me to show you?”

  Control. She needed to wrestle back control. Her hand went to the back of his head and she grabbed a handful of his hair with the intent of guiding his mouth to hers. He resisted her attempts to pull him closer, lingering a hair’s breadth away from her lips. With each stroke of his thumb on her cheek she found she didn’t much care who was in charge as long as he kissed her. “Yes.”

  “Now, who do you want to get a better look at?”

  She tilted her head up to try to reach his lips. “I don’t know. I think I need to be taught a lesson.”

  He pulled back with a triumphant look. “I think you do too, but one of these eighty-nine kids will probably be running around that corner any minute. So later.”

  “You’re an ass. You only wanted to get me all hot and bothered to show me you could.” He didn’t deny it. “You’re the worst.”

  He flashed that grin that turned her insides to goo. “And the best. Never forget it.”

  Instead of anger, lust slammed into her like a bull on a rampage. “Stop saying things like that. This isn’t the time or the place.”

  “You’re right, sorry.”

  His quick admission of wrongdoing threw her off. “Okay, what’s up? This is about more than that good-looking cousin of yours.”

  He rested his forehead against hers. A sigh slipped through his lips. “Mitch paid for most of my college and some of law school. My mother told me the money for college was from a teacher fund she’d set up when she went to work for the district, and I had no reason to question her.” He straightened and stared out at the large oak trees dotting the yard. “I had scholarships that covered a lot of my school, but not all of it, not to mention my living expenses after I moved out of the dorm. That all came from him.”

  “Really?”

  “That’s what Mimi said. I can’t get my head around any of it. Am I just being a…pussy-man?”

  She gave a half-hearted laugh, but she couldn’t get her head around it either. His father had contributed thousands of dollars to his education, anonymously. Asking for nothing in return. In fact, except for a weird twist of fate, Jack would’ve never have found
out.

  Who did that? What kind of love must you have to make that kind of sacrifice? Before she could spend too much time pondering those questions the music fired up, and a voice like she’d never heard before filled the air. “Oh, my.”

  Jack stood there with his lids lowered and let the sound sink into his pores. Raw and gritty with a dirty southern rock vibe, Beau’s voice punched him in the gut, made him want to cry and grab Luanne and kiss her until she didn’t know her name. “Damn. He’s good.” He looked at her and grinned. “I want him.”

  She grinned back and winked. “So do I.”

  His arm went around her neck and he growled into her ear. “Not a chance. Come on, let’s go see my next client.”

  While they’d been behind the shed, Mimi’s backyard had filled up with half the town. Some were dancing, some were in lawn chairs, and some were milling around by the food tables. White carnival lights strung in the trees had been turned on and fireflies flickered on the edge of the yard. The whole scene looked like a Mumford & Sons music video.

  Beau was set up on a flatbed trailer with his guitar, a mic, a bass player, and a drummer. And good Lord, could he sing, but more than that he had the crowd eating out of his hands. His stage presence was like a seasoned pro. His interaction with the women standing in front of the stage was what most entertainers work their whole careers to cultivate. In fact the only other person he’d ever seen as good with a crowd was Gavin, and this guy might be able to teach his best client some tricks.

  Luanne elbowed him. “Somebody’s trying to get your attention.”

  She nodded to the other side of the yard, where Clyde stood alternately waving at him and pointing to Beau.

  “This is going to be painful.”

  “Yep.”

  “I’ll pay you to go deal with him.” He reached into his pocket for his wallet and pulled out a hundred-dollar bill.

  She held up her hand to stop him. “Your money’s no good here, mister.”

  “So you’ll do it?”

  “Not on your life. This is your family. You may as well learn to deal with them now. I’m going to stand next to the stage with the rest of the groupies.”

  “You’re going to throw yourself at him, aren’t you?”

  “No comment. But if you see a pair of underwear sail through the air, know that I tried but failed to control myself.”

  “You’re embarrassing.”

  “True, but I feel good about it.”

  He laughed. “You’ll be back.”

  She gave him a finger wave without turning around.

  She’d be back.

  Chapter 22

  “What the hell do you mean you’re not interested?” Jack resisted the urge to shake his head. He’d offered Beau the chance of a lifetime and the guy had turned him down.

  “Beau, is there anything we could say to make you change your mind?” Luanne leaned forward in her chair.

  At some point in the conversation they’d become a team, doing everything they could to sign the best country and western singer he’d heard in a long time.

  “No. I do appreciate the offer, though.” Beau took a swig of beer from a long-neck bottle.

  “Do you mind telling me why?”

  He glanced around. “I can’t leave Clyde.”

  “Your father is all for this. In fact, he’s the one who told us about you.”

  Beau tipped his chair onto the back legs and picked at the label on his beer bottle. “Clyde’s not my daddy, he’s my granddad.”

  “Oh.”

  “My parents died in a car accident, when I was a kid. I don’t remember ’em at all. We were livin’ in New Orleans at the time.” The chair rocked down on four legs. “It took ’em a while to find Pops. He was a musician out on the road touring. When he found out what happened he quit the road, came and got me, and brought me back here. He gave up his dream of stardom to give me a home. I can’t leave him now.”

  Jack pinched the bridge of his nose. “What’s so special about now?”

  “He’s dying, Jack. Mimi didn’t tell you?”

  “No, man. I’m sorry.”

  Beau shrugged. “It’s life. He’s got cancer. They haven’t given him much time, but the ol’ coot refuses to believe it’s as bad as they say. It’s probably why he’s doin’ as well as he is.” He glanced over to where Clyde was telling some story and grinned. “He’s the best. I’m a lucky bastard. I’d do anything he wanted me to, but this. I won’t leave him now.”

  Jack could wait until the guy was ready. “I don’t have a card right now, but I’ll give you my number, because this is an open-ended offer.”

  “I’ll get a pen and a piece of paper.” Luanne’s smile was bright enough to light up the backyard.

  Jack watched her walk away, then noticed Beau was checking her out too. “Don’t make me hurt you, cuz.”

  Beau laughed. “Sorry, but she’s…somethin’. You’re a lucky man.”

  Jack grinned. No way was he telling this pretty boy they weren’t a couple. “Listen, Beau, you take care of your grandfather, and anytime you want to take me up on the offer, you call me.”

  “I’ll do that, Jack. Thanks for understanding. If you’d asked me six months ago, I’d have jumped on the offer like a duck on a June bug, but now…”

  “I get it.” Uncomfortable with how personal this conversation had gotten, he tried to change the subject. “So are you making your living with your music?”

  “Yes and no. I was rodeoing professionally before Clyde got sick. The diagnosis, plus a jacked-up knee, meant it was time to come home. I’ve been playing honky-tonks around here to make a little scratch.”

  Jack peeled the label on his beer. “Professional rodeoing? Were you any good?”

  “I was alright.”

  “Is there any money in it?”

  Beau grinned. “Some.”

  Jack thought it was a lot more than some, judging by how cagey Beau was being. “Well, that’s definitely an angle we can use in marketing.”

  “I doubt anyone will care much about a broke-down cowboy.”

  Jack tipped his bottle in Beau’s direction. “You’d be surprised.”

  Beau took a pull of his beer and glanced around at the people in the yard. “This must be pretty overwhelming for you, huh? You didn’t know about any of this or us until a few days ago?”

  “Not a thing.”

  “Really?”

  Yes, really. A whole truckload of my life is really circling the toilet. But he would never let that show. He shrugged, grinned, and made sure his façade of affability was firmly in place. “What did you say? It’s life.”

  Beau raised his beer in salute. “I don’t know if I’d have the courage to make this trip. Where’d you get the guts to do it?”

  He pointed in the direction of the house. “Luanne. She looks all sweet and tiny, like you might want to pick her up and put her in your pocket. But she’s really a militant pixie, and you don’t argue with her if you know what’s good for you.” He laughed. “At least that’s what she says.”

  Luanne returned with the pen and paper. “Here you go.”

  Jack scribbled down his number, gave it to Beau, and then extended his hand. “You call me…for anything.”

  “I appreciate it. I better get going. We’re playing the last set at Crazy Joe’s tonight.”

  Luanne rested her chin in her hand and sighed as she watched him walk away.

  “Damn woman, you’re killing my self-confidence.”

  She grabbed his face and kissed him fast and hard. “I think you can handle it. I’m going to see if Leslie needs help cleaning up.”

  She made him feel like superman.

  Too bad she was his kryptonite.

  Luanne snuck up the stairs to their bedroom. She hadn’t gone to find Leslie like she’d told Jack. She needed time alone to deal with the tidal surge of emotion threatening to breach the walls she’d built around herself.

  The revelations about Jack’s dad
had rocked her. The man gave up his son, a son he clearly loved, because of the pain his lifestyle would cause. Then he paid for Jack’s college knowing Jack would never know what he’d done. Then tonight, listening to Beau tell his story about how Clyde had given up what he loved to raise his grandson, and now Beau was doing the same to see his grandfather through the end of his life. She had no frame of reference for that kind of self-sacrifice.

  She made her way to the window. Jack was dancing with Mimi. He twirled her and then dipped the older woman as she laughed. It was too much. Fresh, ugly tears spilled over her lashes. This woman held her grandson in her heart for thirty-three years, knowing she might never meet him, but hoping against hope that one day she would. That, combined with the blind acceptance and love Jack’s surprise family showered him with, all pointed a glaring, harsh, ugly light on the reality of her own family.

  A mother who couldn’t get over herself and her own pain long enough to love and care for her daughter. A woman who tried and failed to use that daughter to get the attention of a man, who never loved her, back into her life. A child who bore the brunt of the resentment when her mother’s harebrained schemes didn’t work.

  I wasn’t responsible for your choices, Mama.

  The clarity of that thought gave her courage to look honestly at the grandmother who should’ve protected her and given her safe haven, instead of using her as bait to try to lure her son back into her life. A son who couldn’t care less about her, who treated her horribly, and who used her when he needed money.

  You should’ve protected me, Gigi.

  The common denominator in her childhood of neglect? Marcus Price. She’d known her whole life that Marcus wasn’t a good father—all she had to do was look at Floyd Kelly and his relationship with Scarlett to see that. Over the years she’d justified his behavior with the same excuses that her mother and Gigi used.

  He’s so busy.

  She should be grateful she had a father.

  He can’t show his emotions, but he loves me in his own way.