“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 Twenty-Two
“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 may 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.
Lies. All lies.
He’d never sacrificed one thing for her.
“My father is a misogynist and a narcissist,” she whispered to the room. Tears washed down her face, unbidden. Grief bloomed like a bloody wound in her chest.
It hurt like hell, but the truth made her stronger.
“My father is a misogynist and a narcissist, and he never cared about me.” She grabbed the disappointed ideas of being daddy’s little girl and threw them onto the burning pyre of unfulfilled dreams.
Which made her stronger still.
“My father is a misogynist and a narci
ssist, he never loved me, and isn’t worthy of my loyalty.” The shouted truth grabbed the last hope for the father that never was and would never be, and yanked it out by the root.
The room was a dark, quiet place to hide. But her heart and mind wouldn’t let her get away from the blinding truth. A truth that Jack had been trying to get her to see for days. She’d been neglected and abused by the family that should’ve loved and treasured her, and she deserved more. A whole hell of a lot more.
The heavy weight of grief for all she’d never have crashed over her. But she wouldn’t crumble under the weight. She would stand against the tide and let it roll over her, making her stronger and more vulnerable with each surge of reality.
Stronger because she knew she should’ve been given more love and attention than she’d received from her family.
Vulnerable because now she knew she needed those things, but to have them she’d have to find them elsewhere and make a new family for herself.
The isolation of the dark room was too much. She didn’t want to be alone anymore. She’d been alone enough. There were a ton of people outside. She only wanted one.
Beau and his band were gone, but there was still music, coming from an old boom box. Couples danced and the older family members were sitting at long tables, talking.
She surveyed the crowd and spotted Jack with a group of men she hadn’t met. She didn’t think about it, she didn’t consider the consequences. She leaped from the porch and ran straight to him.
He saw her coming and took several steps toward her, opening his arms. With no thought about what anyone else would say, she jumped into his arms and buried her face in his neck. “Jack.”
Jack carried her back to the house and up the stairs to their room, all the while rubbing little circles on her back and trying not to lose his shit. What had happened? Was she hurt? Had someone died?
When he reached to turn on the light she grabbed his arm. “Don’t.”
“Can I turn on the small lamp?” He had to see her face to make sure she was alright.
Running with a Sweet Talker Page 19
