Out of Uniform Box Set: Books 4-6 plus 2 Bonus Novellas

by Kennedy, Elle

  Mia watched as the two of them exchanged a long, affectionate hug.

  “Mia, this is my sister Evie.”

  Mia barely got out a hello before the door opened again and another brunette raced toward them with an older version of Jackson trailing after her. Mia suddenly found herself surrounded by two incredibly tall men and two incredibly tall women, making her feel like a dwarf in comparison.

  After Jackson embraced his parents, he made another round of introductions, while Mia gaped at the Ramseys the entire time.

  “Oh, man, you’re a family of giants,” she blurted out.

  Evie’s brown eyes twinkled mischievously. “Or maybe you just come from a family of dwarves.”

  Mia couldn’t stop gawking at them. “Seriously. How tall are all of you?”

  Jackson’s sister laughed. “I’m six feet. Mom’s five-ten. And Dad ’n Jackie are six-five.”

  “Giants, every last one of you,” Mia grumbled.

  Arlene Ramsey stepped forward with a warm smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mia. I’m so glad you could join us for Thanksgiving.”

  “Thanks for having me.”

  “Let’s go inside,” Arlene said. “Kurt, help Jackson with the bags.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Jackson’s father tipped an imaginary hat at his wife.

  The next thing Mia knew, she was sandwiched between Jackson’s Amazon mother and sister, who linked their arms through hers on the way to the porch.

  “You’re the first girl Jackie has brought home since he moved to California,” Evie informed her in a frank tone.

  She fought a pang of discomfort. “Oh. Really?”

  “Yup. So you must be special.” The younger woman looked Mia up and down with unabashed interest. “I demand to know everythin’ about you, Mia Weldrick.”

  “Leave our guest alone, Evangeline,” Arlene chided. “We’ll get to know Mia in due time.”

  Both women spoke in the same drawl as Jackson, which Mia found utterly endearing. She followed them into the house and was instantly greeted by the most delicious aromas on the planet.

  “Something smells amazing,” she commented.

  “Thank you, darlin’.” Arlene flushed prettily. She had Jackson’s dark hair and light-brown eyes, but her face was more rounded and her cheeks seemed to have a perpetual rosy glow. “Dinner will be ready in an hour or two. We usually eat early, around four, so we can catch the game at four thirty. The boys would have my head if we missed kickoff.”

  “The football game,” Evie clarified, her eyes narrowing as if she were waiting for Mia to object.

  But Mia just grinned and said, “Awesome. I didn’t want to miss seeing the Cowboys kick some butt.”

  Approval lit up Evie’s gaze. “You’re a Cowboys fan?”

  “Not entirely. We moved around a lot when I was a kid so I was never able to form an attachment to one specific home team. So I’m rooting for Jackson’s hometown these days.”

  The two women nodded in approval, and then Arlene addressed her daughter. “Why don’t you give Mia a quick tour of the house while I check on the turkey?”

  Evie voiced an easy assent, and, for the next ten minutes, showed Mia every inch of the Ramsey homestead, which was as cozy inside as it was out. Wood-paneled walls and weathered parquet floors spanned the large house, and every bedroom featured deep bay windows that overlooked a part of the sprawling ranch. Mia laughed when she got a peek at Jackson’s childhood bedroom, a big, airy space with shelves littered with trophies and white walls covered in posters of bikini models draped over sports cars.

  “Classy,” she said dryly.

  Evie laughed again, a high, melodic sound that was downright contagious. “He was obsessed with those posters. Mom decided to keep ’em up even after he moved out. She says they add charm to the room.”

  Mia snickered and followed Evie down the wide hallway lined with framed family photographs and pretty oil paintings of western landscapes. She paused in front of one photo in particular, a shot featuring two smiling dark-haired boys with their arms slung around each other. The boys were about eight and ten years old, and she recognized one as a very young, very adorable Jackson. The other boy was older, but looked so much like Jackson that she knew it must be his brother.

  “That’s Jackie and Shane,” Evie told her. “They were joined at the hip when they were kids.”

  Mia just nodded, not wanting to bring up the brotherly estrangement that was currently wreaking havoc on the Ramsey family, but Evie surprised her by raising the topic.

  “I suppose Jackie told you about the beef between him and Shane?”

  “He did,” she said guardedly.

  Evie heaved out a dramatic sigh. “Well, I think you should ride my stubborn brother’s ass and tell him to straighten this nonsense up already. It’s getting dang old.”

  She stifled a laugh. “I’ll see what I can do.” As they headed to the second floor staircase, she gave Jackson’s sister a sidelong look. “How old are you, anyway?”

  Evie beamed. “Turning twenty-one next week. Finally! You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to be legal. I’m tired of bribing Jed at the hardware store to buy me beer.”

  Mia had to grin. She really liked Jackson’s sister. The girl was vibrant and outspoken, exuding the same charm as her older brother, but also a devilish energy that Mia suspected made Evie Ramsey a lot of fun to hang out with.

  They went back downstairs, Evie yet again linking their arms on the way to the enormous country-style kitchen. Arlene was chopping onions on the huge cedar work island when they walked in.

  She looked up with a smile. “So what do you think of our humble abode?” the older woman asked.

  “I love it,” Mia confessed. “You have a beautiful home, Mrs. Ramsey.”

  “Oh, pshaw—call me Arlene,” Jackson’s mother said firmly.

  “Okay. Arlene.”

  “Thatta girl. Now come pull up a stool and keep me company while I dice. Kurt’s stolen my son away, so we have plenty of time for some good ol’ fashioned girl talk.”

  * * *

  Jackson had known he’d get a lecture from his father at some point, but he hadn’t expected it to happen within five minutes of his arrival. As he set down his and Mia’s bags on the porch, Kurt crossed his arms over the front of his blue-and-white Western shirt and gave him a stern look.

  “Why don’t we go down to the barn, son?” It was voiced as a question, but was clearly a demand.

  Jackson nodded. “All right.”

  The two men walked side by side toward the main barn that stabled the dozen or so mares living on the ranch. The stallion barn stood a hundred yards away, but Jackson forced himself not to look at the big red structure. He hadn’t stepped foot inside it since that fateful morning, when his big brother had pummeled him with his fists and probably would’ve beat him to death if their father hadn’t intervened.

  “It’s good to see you,” Kurt said gruffly. “Your mother and I miss you.”

  His throat tightened. “I miss you too.”

  “Yeah?” His dad cocked his head. “Sometimes I wonder.”

  “Shit, Dad, you know I do.”

  “Funny, ’cause you don’t seem inclined to come visit us.”

  “You know why I can’t,” he said in a low voice.

  “Can’t? Now that’s bull crap, son. You choose not to come home to see your family. No can’t about it.”

  He gritted his teeth. “You say that as if I’m missing out on a welcome parade or somethin’, but we both know there’s at least one person on this ranch who doesn’t want to see me.”

  His father sighed. “Your brother is a mule-headed fool. Always has been. I told you this once and I’m gonna say it again—you need to be the better man in this situation. Forgive him, Jack. It’s the only way our family will ever be whole again.”

  “Forgive him?” he echoed incredulously. “For that to happen, Shane needs to actually apologize first. You know, for beating m
e within an inch of my life? He never told me he was sorry, Dad. Not even once.”

  “He is sorry,” Kurt said quietly. “You can see it on his face whenever y’all are in the same room.”

  “That’s not good enough. I need to hear him say it.”

  “Lord, how’d I end up with such a stubborn lot?”

  Jackson rolled his eyes. “We got it from you, old man.”

  They reached the barn’s big red double doors, but rather than go inside, Jackson’s father turned on his heel. “C’mon, let’s head back. Your mama is clamoring to see you.”

  Their walk could probably have been considered pointless, but Jackson knew his father had needed to say his piece away from prying eyes. On the way back to the house, they didn’t talk about anything of importance—Jackson simply chatted about his life in San Diego, while Kurt filled him in on what he’d missed on the ranch. The subject of Shane and Tiffany’s wedding didn’t come up at all, but the couple’s wedding photo was the first thing Jackson encountered when he strode into his childhood home. It hung proudly in the front hall, and he had to forcibly tear his gaze off the picture, refusing to let any emotions surface.

  He hoped his mom and sister hadn’t been grilling Mia in his absence, but when he entered the kitchen, he discovered that Mia was holding her own. She and Arlene were chatting a mile a minute about gardening, but the animated conversation halted abruptly, because the second he walked in, his mother put down the knife in her hand and rushed over to hug him again.

  “Sit,” she ordered, her soft brown eyes glimmering with joy and affection. “I want to know everythin’ you’ve been up to these last few years.”

  He smiled. “You already know. We talk on the phone once a week.”

  “Oh, is that right?” Her meaningful gaze shifted to Mia. “Because clearly you’ve been keeping a few secrets from your mama, young man.”

  “I told you I was seeing someone,” he protested.

  “Mmm-hmm, but you didn’t tell me how delightful she was.”

  From her perch by the counter, Mia blushed, but she didn’t look put off by the compliment.

  Chuckling, he slid onto the stool next to Mia while his mom resumed her dicing. Neither Arlene nor Evie allowed the couple to help out with the cooking, so for the next hour they sat there while the two women puttered around the kitchen, the conversation flowing without a single pause or awkward silence. Jackson’s father didn’t say much—he was more of a listener than a talker—and eventually he excused himself so he could go feed the horses.

  A feeling of pure contentedness filled Jackson’s heart as his little sister told him about her college classes and his mom talked about her volunteer work at his old elementary school. Lord, he’d missed this. The warmth, the laughter, the love.

  And he knew Mia was enjoying it too. She and Evie got along so well it was as if they’d known each other forever, and she’d already won over the gardening-obsessed Arlene thanks to her choice of profession. He was bursting with joy as he watched her interact with his family. Mia hadn’t been lucky enough to grow up in a cozy, loving home, and he wanted her to experience it firsthand, to see how wonderful it could be.

  But of course, just when he’d allowed himself to relax and was basking in the radiant feeling of being home again, the mood changed from happy to tense as if someone had flicked a switch.

  Or rather, opened the front door.

  The female voice that wafted from the front hall turned Jackson’s spine into a stiff rod.

  Tiffany.

  And then a male mumble reached his ears, another familiar drawl that produced a more violent reaction—Jackson’s hands curled into fists, so tight his knuckles turned white.

  “Jackie,” Evie murmured in warning.

  He swallowed and met his sister’s worried eyes. “Don’t worry, darlin’. It’s all good.”

  Which was a big fat lie. There was nothing good about it, and Jackson was wracked with tension as he waited for the newlyweds to make their appearance.

  Shane and Tiffany entered the kitchen a moment later with timid expressions and half-hearted smiles.

  “Happy Thanksgiving,” Tiffany said in an overly cautious voice. Her blue eyes darted in Jackson and Mia’s direction before focusing on Arlene.

  “Happy Thanksgiving, sweetie.” Jackson’s mother stepped over to give her daughter-in-law a brief hug.

  Jackson didn’t miss the reluctance in his mom’s eyes. He knew that she’d never been able to warm up to Tiff again, not after what the girl had done to her youngest son. And he suspected that Tiff knew full well that she’d lost some of Arlene’s love and respect, because his ex-girlfriend’s body language didn’t relax even as she returned her mother-in-law’s embrace.

  The hug Arlene exchanged with her eldest son was warmer, as was the tender look in her eyes as she kissed Shane’s cheek.

  Jackson remained on guard as he studied the new arrivals. Tiff hadn’t aged at all—her ivory face was as smooth as cream, her long blond hair fuller and shinier than ever. Shane hadn’t changed much, either. He was still tall, still muscular, still wearing his brown hair in a buzz cut. Except he sported a full beard now, which was ironic considering Jackson looked like a lumberjack himself. It only made him all the more eager to shave his stupid precautionary beard.

  After Evie went over to hug the newcomers, Shane and Tiffany finally turned to Jackson and Mia, their expressions more suited for an impending visit to the dentist than for greeting a long-lost relative.

  “Jackson.” Shane cleared his throat awkwardly. “Welcome home.”

  “Thanks.”

  No handshake. No hug. Neither man so much as blinked as they eyed each other.

  “Hey, Jackson,” Tiffany said softly.

  “Tiff,” he replied with a strained nod.

  “I’m glad you were able to make it,” she murmured. “Arlene said you might not come.”

  Silence settled over the kitchen. From the corner of his eye, Jackson noticed Mia shifting on the stool, which alerted him to the fact that he hadn’t introduced her yet.

  “This is my girlfriend Mia,” he said roughly.

  Shane and Tiffany extended Mia the courtesy they’d denied Jackson by reaching over to shake her hand.

  “Nice to meet you,” Mia said, her discomfort written all over her pretty face.

  Another silence fell, this one laced with more uneasiness and a shitload of unspoken words.

  Finally, Arlene spoke up in resignation. “Evie, why don’t you and Mia go and set the table? Tiffany, you can help me fill these water glasses while Shane carves the turkey. Jackson, find your father and tell him dinner’s ready.”

  Arlene Ramsey, efficient as always, and a master at defusing potentially hazardous situations.

  With that, everyone split up to complete their assigned tasks, and Jackson hurried out of the kitchen without looking back.

  * * *

  “Well,” Mia announced several hours later, her expression conveying deep weariness. “That was…brutal?”

  Jackson followed her into his old bedroom, closed the door behind them and let out the colossal sigh that had been jammed in his throat all evening.

  “I don’t know, though,” she went on thoughtfully. “Brutal might be too tame a word to describe that dinner. Maybe torturous?”

  A tired laugh flew out of his throat. “Yeah, torture’s a good way to describe it.”

  She chimed in with another “helpful” suggestion. “Or how about, ‘so uncomfortable I wanted to run out of the house, steal your father’s truck and drive straight to the airport’?”

  “Also works.”

  As they flopped down on the edge of his bed, all traces of humor died. Mia instantly took his hand and squeezed it gently, her head falling against his shoulder as she stroked his knuckles in a soothing gesture.

  Lord, that dinner had been one of the most excruciating experiences of his life—and this was coming from a man who’d been bitten in the ass by a pit viper
during an op in the jungle last year. Shane and Tiffany had been seated right across the table from him and Mia, and neither one had said a single word to Jackson the entire time. His parents had tried to coax the two brothers into conversing with each other but failed every time, and Evie, God bless her soul, had filled the numerous awkward silences by babbling on about absolutely nothing, until Arlene eventually had to silence her with a sharp shake of the head.

  Mia hadn’t said much either, except to exchange some gardening tips with Jackson’s mother or to answer a few of his father’s rare questions. By the time dinner had been cleared away, Jackson had been dying to take Mia and flee the house, but that was a big no-no on Thanksgiving Day. Instead, they’d watched the Cowboys game in its entirety, sitting on the massive sectional sofa as far away as they could from Shane and Tiff. Then, at his mother’s firm insistence, they stayed in the living room to eat dessert and watch the first half of the next game, but Arlene’s blatant attempt at prolonging the evening in order to spark some sort of conversation between her two sons yet again failed.

  Jackson still couldn’t believe how cold Shane had acted toward him. Even colder than usual, which was completely baffling. Usually his brother was more aloof than rude, but tonight he’d been sending a helluva lot of scowls in Jackson’s direction.

  Needless to say, he’d been relieved as heck when Shane and Tiff finally left. Now it was ten o’clock, his parents and sister had already turned in, and he and Mia were finally alone.

  “It’s the guilt, you know.”

  He turned to Mia with a frown. “What?”

  “That’s why your brother and Tiffany were acting like that. They’re guilty as hell and neither of them know how to deal with it.”

  “An apology would be a start.”

  “Obviously. But I think they don’t know how to open up that dialogue. I get the feeling that they’re scared of you.”

  He wrinkled his forehead. “Why would they be scared of me?”

  “Because you’re the wronged party in this situation. They’re scared of how you’ll react if they try to drag up all those old issues—they were probably scared of how you’d react back then, too. And I think they’re also a bit resentful. I mean, it’s clear that your parents are squarely on your side in this matter. Your mom wasn’t crazy friendly to Tiffany, and even though it’s obvious they love Shane, they don’t look at him with the same adoration they give you.” Mia shrugged. “I think Shane and Tiffany pick up on that.”