by Ann DeFee
“Darrell and Dwayne have been hell-raisers since they hit puberty. I’ve bailed them out of so many scrapes I can’t even count them all. I am so tired of it,” he said with a deep sigh.
“And that’s why the situation with Rondelle and his friends has bothered you so much.”
“Yeah. Sometimes I feel like I’m swimming upstream. Guess it’s too bad you can’t choose your family.”
CiCi really couldn’t relate. If she had the choice, she’d pick her family every time. Without thinking about it, she wrapped her arm around Jake’s waist. This man needed a hug and that was one thing the Hurst family did really well.
IT HAD BEEN A TERRIBLE WEEKEND. Even at his best, Darrell wasn’t exactly pleasant, and when he didn’t get his way he was downright horrible. Jake could only imagine how his cousin had reacted to the news that Jake wasn’t going to bail him out again.
However, things were definitely looking up. Jake wondered if CiCi realized she’d moved from rubbing his back to caressing his neck. He didn’t know if it meant anything, or if it was simply her way of comforting him. Whatever it was, he liked it. In fact—try as he might to avoid it—he liked her, a lot.
When her hand slipped down to the small of his back, Jake felt his temperature elevate. He’d been seduced by women who were far more experienced, but CiCi’s touch was real and honest.
Deep down, Jake knew that what he was about to do was a mistake, but his good sense and his need for love were duking it out. Fortunately—or perhaps unfortunately—his heart won.
“I’m probably going to regret this,” he muttered, pulling CiCi close. She smelled like spring, rainwater, and all things girly. It was an incredible aphrodisiac. He nuzzled her neck, breathing in the scent of her hair. It was as if his body had decided on a course of action all on its own. If he had half a brain, he wouldn’t be nibbling on her earlobe. She was still the boss’s daughter. But for now, he just didn’t care.
Jake shifted on the bench and settled her in his lap. That was better—much, much better. It gave him perfect access to everything he wanted to touch, see, caress and kiss. He started with her neck. He’d always been a sucker for a beautiful neck and CiCi’s was gorgeous.
Goose bumps danced on her beautiful skin in the wake of the slow, warm kisses he placed down her shoulder. The thought of having her naked in his bed was wreaking havoc with his mind, not to mention his sex drive.
A noise nearby brought the real world back into focus. What was he thinking? They were in a public place. Kids could walk by.
Apparently CiCi realized the same thing. “Oh, my God!”
Jake was having an “oh, my God” experience, too, but he didn’t think she meant it in quite the same way he did.
She jumped off his lap. Damn, she was cute.
Chapter Twenty-Five
CiCi’s face was on fire. She didn’t blush very often, but if there was ever an appropriate time, this was it. What was wrong with her? They were in the middle of the camp and she was letting Jake have his way with her. They’d crossed the line from friendly hug to full-on making out when camp rules strictly prohibited staff from all public displays of affection—and she hadn’t been turned on like that in ages…maybe ever.
She wondered if he felt the same way, or if this was strictly a one-way street. If they hadn’t been interrupted, heaven only knows what would have happened. With that thought in mind, CiCi fanned herself.
“I have a ton to do, so I’d better get hopping.” Great, now she sounded like a British spinster. “I’m sorry about your cousin, and if it’s any comfort I think you did the right thing.”
“I do, too.” Jake smiled and then sauntered off.
Crumb! CiCi was horny as all hell. Celibacy—what had she been thinking? Long before she and Tank split, their love life hadn’t exactly been earth-shattering. Scrub that—it had been the pits. Probably because he’d been too busy practicing Kama Sutra positions with his librarian friend.
God, she’d love a glass of wine, but coffee, and lots of it, would have to do. If it hadn’t been fifty miles to the nearest Starbucks, she’d be in her car and on her way.
She’d acted like a virgin bride when Jake had done nothing more than kiss her—Oh, right, there was that little bit of petting. So why not ask him to go to lunch and get this relationship, or whatever it was, back on a professional basis. Plus there was an espresso stand in town and what she wouldn’t give for a cappuccino.
Jake was coaching softball when she finally found him. He bent over to pick up a ball, allowing her an amazing view of his buns of steel. Whew! That was certainly enough to get her all hot and bothered.
Lunch. All she wanted to do was have lunch with the guy—not ravish him.
“Hey, Jake,” she called, motioning him over. “Do you have time to go for lunch?”
“Sure. Once I’m done this session, I’ve got a free afternoon. When do you want to go?”
“How about an hour?”
“I’m all yours.”
CiCi only wished—or did she?
THE RIDE INTO Kerrville was fairly quiet. CiCi wasn’t quite sure what she wanted to say, and ended up making trivial small talk.
“Have you ever been to the Cedar?” she asked.
“Can’t say that I have. What is it?”
“It’s a dive but it’s been around for at least a century so it’s a historical landmark. Bank robbers from the thirties used it as their watering hole.”
“Am I going to have to fight my way out of the place?”
“I don’t think so,” CiCi said, and then muttered, “I hope not.”
CICI WASN’T EXAGGERATING about the Cedar. It was so old Davy Crockett had probably been a regular. And the line of Harleys out front was only one clue that this wasn’t a ladies’ lunch venue. Jake had been to more than his share of places like this but he was surprised CiCi even knew they existed.
The inside was even worse than the exterior. It was dark and smelled like decades of stale beer. The dented picnic tables and mismatched benches looked like a throwback to the cattle drives of the nineteenth century. Except now the cowboys had been replaced with Born to Raise Hell bikers.
The minute they walked in, at least a dozen pair of eyes latched on to CiCi’s backside. Jake might have to fight their way out of here, after all. He led the way to a table at the rear of the tavern. Their best bet was to be as inconspicuous as possible.
Thanks to his trailer-park background, Jake’s taste ran more to bar food than to five-star restaurants, but even for him this was iffy. He wiped ketchup off the plastic menu.
“What do you recommend?” he asked, wondering if CiCi had been here before.
“Burgers, definitely the burgers. See the ‘Blow the Top off Your Head’ burger?” She pointed to an item toward the bottom of the page. “Daddy loves that one. They load on the jalapeños. It’s a bit hot for me but you might like it.”
“Texas Bob comes here?”
“It’s one of his favorite places. They have homemade French fries, and the onion rings are to die for.”
The potbellied bartender strolled over. “What can I do for you folks?” he asked, then squinted at CiCi. “Miz Hurst, it’s sure good to see you. How’s your daddy?”
“He’s fine. I’ll tell him you asked. How’s the chili to day?”
“I’d stick with the burgers if I was you.”
“Okay, I’ll take my regular with an order of fries and onion rings on the side.”
The man turned to Jake and did the squinty thing again. “Aren’t you Jake Culpepper?” “Yep.”
“Hot damn! Hey, boys, this here is Jake Culpepper.”
So much for anonymity.
AFTER JAKE SIGNED a variety of T-shirts, ball caps and coasters the crowd finally dispersed.
“Don’t you get tired of that?” CiCi asked.
“Sometimes. If we have a losing season I’m almost afraid to go to the post office. But I’m sure you know all about that from being married to Tank.”
Jake shrugged. “Sometimes it’s a pain, but we’re in the entertainment business, so it’s part and parcel of the game.”
CiCi hadn’t quite thought of it that way. “What about the women?”
“What women?”
“The ones who want you to autograph their…their ta-tas.”
Jake laughed so hard she was afraid he was going to fall off his chair. “I can honestly say I’ve never been asked to sign anyone’s ta-tas.” When CiCi didn’t join in, he got serious. “That really bothers you, doesn’t it?”
She sighed. “It does. Tank always had women coming on to him. At first I thought it was funny, but after he started taking them up on it, it stopped being humorous.”
Jake rubbed his chin. “I have to confess something.”
That sounded ominous.
“When I first met you I assumed you were a stuck-up debutante, but given what I know of you now—including this place—I was wrong. So I guess we both have our share of hang-ups.”
“Why would you think I was a snob?”
“Because you have money.”
“So do you.” She was about to get irritated.
“And you made fun of my truck.”
“What?”
“That day I came by your house, you thought I was the gardener.”
“I don’t even remember that!”
Jake took her hand. “Let me tell you a sad story.” His grin didn’t match his words.
“I’ve been dirt poor all my life, and when I went to A&M on a football scholarship I thought I had it made. I still didn’t have any money, but I was on my way up. And then I met this girl—a Dallas deb.” Jake sighed. “To make a long story short the minute she met Dwayne she dropped me. I’d already put a diamond on layaway, just waiting for the perfect moment.” He took a big swallow of beer. “That’s my sad story.”
“So I guess I have to come up with something, too?”
“Not if you don’t want to.”
CiCi grimaced. “I will confess that I wanted to pull Brenda’s bleached blond hair out by the roots.”
Jake responded with a belly laugh. “I’d pay good money to see that.”
“I’m serious. She was so, beautiful, and I’m not.”
Jake looked up with a start. “What did you say?” “About what?”
“About your looks?”
“I’m not blond and busty and…” CiCi shrugged. “And I don’t have big hair.”
Jake whooped. “You’re hilarious. You could shave your head and I wouldn’t care. I’d still think you’re beautiful.” He waggled an eyebrow. “In fact, you’d look damned sexy that way.”
Jake scooted over next to her on the bench. “I didn’t invite Dwayne and Brenda to the camp. I dated her for about a month a little while ago and she became obsessed. It was kind of freaky, and she didn’t take the breakup well. Nevertheless, I’m sorry.”
Jake ran his fingers through her hair. The next she knew she was in his arms and he was making a thorough exploration of her mouth. That was more like it.
“I love you just the way you are,” he murmured between kisses.
Holy tamale! Had he honest-to-goodness used the L word? Did he mean it or was it just a figure of speech? And should she ask him?
That question was forestalled by the arrival of their food. Nothing like rescue by French fry.
Chapter Twenty-Six
CiCi had assumed she’d see Jake at breakfast but he was a no-show—nor was there any sign of him for the rest of the morning.
“Do you think he’s avoiding me?” she asked Sugar Plum. The dog answered by plastering herself against CiCi’s leg.
“Oh, well, when in doubt do paperwork.” But first things first—she needed a fresh cup of coffee. With a mug in one hand and a doughnut in the other, CiCi marched to her office, intent on getting some work done, or at least on putting Jake Culpepper out of her mind.
Two hours later she was ready for a break so she grabbed a Coke and went out to the porch. She had closed her eyes and was meditating when Jake came up and rocked her world with a kiss.
“You look so comfortable I thought I’d join you.” He sat down in the adjacent twig rocker. “What are you thinking about?”
“That you might be avoiding me.”
“No way. I’ve been up to my eyebrows in kid problems this morning. This camping experience was supposed to be about schmaltzy songs and swimming parties, not bailing kids out of the clink.”
“What do you think we should—” CiCi didn’t have a chance to finish before Angel ran up, obviously upset.
“Ms. Hurst, I’ve…I’ve got a problem.” The fifteen-year-old managed to get that much out before she burst into tears.
“Oh, honey.” CiCi pulled her into a hug, looking over the teen’s head, seeking Jake’s guidance. There was never a dull moment at Camp Touchdown.
“What happened?” he asked.
It took a while before Angel’s tears subsided into a few sniffles and a deep sigh.
“I’m sorry, Coach.” She tried to giggle but the attempt fell short. “I know guys hate it when girls cry.”
Jake ruffled her hair. “Why don’t you tell us what’s going on, and start at the beginning.”
Angel took a deep breath. “The last time I talked to my mom was after that river…thingy. Normally she’s pretty good about calling my cell, but I haven’t heard from her in a couple of days.” The teen sniffled. “I just got a call from our neighbor. She said that my mom and her boyfriend have been busted on meth charges. I don’t know what to do.”
CiCi didn’t have a clue what to think or say.
“Is that all she said?” Jake asked.
Angel nodded. “Uh-huh.”
“Does your dad live in Houston?”
“I…uh…don’t know who he is.”
CiCi’s heart broke for her. This wonderful young lady had a druggie mother and an unidentified father. She had to wonder whether kids like Angel had any chance at a productive life.
“CiCi, why don’t you take Angel to find a cold drink? I have some calls to make.” Jake winked at them both. “Angel, I know some folks who may be able to help.”
DAMN IT TO HELL! Jake thought as he punched in the number of a friend who specialized in family law. Why did irresponsible people have kids? He’d seen this situation way too often—a nice child saddled with crappy parents, or in this case, a single mom.
Angel’s mother had a live-in, meth-cooking boyfriend. People who cleaned up meth labs worked in Hazmat suits, but druggies didn’t seem to care what kind of nasty environment they subjected their kids to.
The question was whether Angel would be better off with her mother or in the foster care system. If Jake could answer that, he’d be on his way to sainthood.
“Hey, I have a big favor to ask,” he said when his friend Josh answered.
“Are you going to pay me, or is this a freebie?” Josh responded.
“Since when have you ever done anything for free?”
“Not often. So, what’s up?”
Jake filled him in on the details. “I need you to go to the jail and talk to the mother. If you think she’s retrievable, see what you can do to get her bailed out. Let her know that your representation is contingent on ditching the boyfriend. If she agrees, and you think she’s serious, I’d like you to represent her.”
“I’ll do what I can. Keep in mind that I’m going to charge you my overtime rates,” Josh said with a laugh.
“Whatever. I don’t want this kid to be foisted off on the state. Camp is over in a week and she needs someplace to live.”
“Right on. I’ll call you when I have some answers.”
Jake disconnected. He hoped his friend was a miracle worker because that’s what this one was going to need.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
It was Saturday before Angel’s mom was bailed out. They were in the last week of camp but that didn’t mean that everything had calmed down. All Jake wanted was some downtime from t
he brouhaha, and that came when he managed to sneak away for a picnic with CiCi.
“Did you know that you can get into some itchy stuff sitting on the ground?” he asked as he spread out their blanket.
“Yep, I learned that one the hard way,” CiCi said with a laugh. “That’s why I’ve slathered on enough insect repellent to discourage an army of insects. They don’t stand a chance.”
“We’ll see.” Jake didn’t bother to stifle his grin.
Lunch consisted of chicken-salad sandwiches, peach cobbler and iced tea. It was perfect cuisine for a lazy summer day.
Life was good—especially since he had a beautiful woman by his side—but there was a lingering sense of unfinished business. Where was this relationship going? Was it possible to get past the obvious differences in their background? There was only one way to tell, and that was for Jake to introduce CiCi to his childhood.
“Can you take a day off for a road trip?” He kissed the back of her neck.
“Of course, everyone deserves a day off. But it depends on what you’re thinking. If it has anything to do with food, I’m your girl.”
Jake shrugged in the way that meant he wasn’t completely comfortable with the situation. “We can eat, sure.”
“I love your enthusiasm.” CiCi tempered her sarcasm with a smile.
“I want to take you to San Antonio. There’s, uh, there’s something I want to show you. But afterward we can go to any restaurant that suits your fancy. How about it?”
“You make it hard to resist.” She suspected this trip was about much more than finding the perfect taco. “When?”
He gave her the sheepish grin she’d grown to love. “I thought we’d leave in the morning and come back Monday. Can Greg handle everything for a day?”
“I’m sure he can.” That was the least of her worries. Right now, spending the night with Jake was at the top of her list.
THE TRIP into San Antonio took almost an hour and a half. On the way they bypassed the ritzy malls and ignored a veritable United Nations of restaurants without so much as slowing down.
