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Southern Fried Blues (The Officers' Ex-Wives Club)

Page 16

by Jamie Farrell


  “Thanks, sugar.” Kaci poked her head out of the bathroom, looking like an albino raccoon with purple lips. She shooed Cheri away. “Go on and make sure our mommas aren’t fighting over that big flower to-do, will you?”

  Cheri inclined her head, her brown eyes flashing in easy amusement. “Yes, ma’am.” The door clicked shut behind her.

  Kaci yanked Anna into the bathroom. “Ol’ grandpappy’s here, isn’t he?” Her pulse fluttered in her neck. She grabbed onto the yards of lace enveloping her, twitched it between her fingers, dropped it, then grabbed it again. “I swear I saw his car drive up when I was looking to see if Lance was here yet.”

  “Did you invite him?”

  Kaci cocked her head and planted a fist on her hip. “Do I look like I need more wedding drama?”

  She looked like she needed a tequila shot and a ticket to Vegas. “Kaci. Forget your mother. Forget your ex-husband. Forget the flowers. You’re here today to marry Lance, and that’s what matters, right?”

  Kaci’s hands wobbled. Her lips crumpled. “Sugar, you’d tell me if I was making a mistake, right?” She flitted her hand at the door. Her engagement ring caught the light and sparkled in the mirror. “My momma, she says she ain’t doing this so I can ditch another one. I didn’t ask her to do it at all, but what if I’m not really the marrying kind? Or what if I am the marrying kind, but I’m not the being married kind?”

  Her eyes shone with unshed tears. Anna’s heart squeezed for her friend. “What’s the first thing you do every morning?”

  Kaci visibly swallowed. She nodded. “Go on.”

  “Who’s the first person you call with good or bad news?”

  “Keep talking, sugar.”

  “Who do you trust more than anyone to understand what you need, when you need it?”

  A crocodile tear rolled down Kaci’s overly rouged cheek. “Ol’ grandpappy never got it.”

  “If you saw them side-by-side, would you still take Lance, or would you walk away from both of them?”

  Kaci smacked her. “Quit talking stupid, sugar. Of course I’d marry Lance.”

  Anna smiled. “Then what’s the problem?”

  “No problem.” Kaci yanked her skirt and adjusted the girls. “You go on and get lined up for your seat. I’ve got a man to get hitched to.”

  Anna gestured to Kaci’s face. “You want some help with that first?”

  “Lordy, yes.”

  Anna pulled a small stash of makeup wipes from her purse, and the two of them went to work making Kaci look like Kaci again. “So, if ol’ grandpappy did show up,” Anna said nonchalantly, “it wouldn’t bother you?”

  Kaci’s brow furrowed. “You know what, sugar? I don’t think it would.”

  “Even if he made a scene?”

  Kaci dropped her eyeliner. “Did that man make a scene at my wedding before it even started?”

  “Not yet.” Anna glanced at her phone. “At least, not that I’m aware of.”

  “Hmph.” Kaci grabbed the liner again and leaned into the mirror. “It’d be a story for the grandkids if he did.”

  “You are one-hundred-percent certain you’re divorced from him, right?”

  Kaci smacked her in the arm again. “Someday I’m gonna be asking you the same question. Won’t be so funny then.”

  “Go ahead and keep telling yourself that.”

  Kaci leaned back, blinked at her reflection, and then grinned so big the subtle lines that spoke her age popped out. The door to the room clicked, and stale air filtered in.

  “Ready, Kaci?” Cheri asked. “Your momma’s having a conniption down there about the music going on too long. And Lance is starting to look nervous.”

  “Go on and tell Lance he doesn’t have a thing to worry about,” Kaci said. “He’s gonna be stuck with me soon enough. He can wait another three minutes. And ignore my momma. She’s hell-bent on not being happy enough with this since we wouldn’t take it back to Mississippi, so there’s no sense in even trying.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” She looked at Anna. “But can I borrow you for a minute?”

  “Go on and take her,” Kaci said. “I got one last thing to do.” She blinked rapidly and gestured up to the ceiling. “Promised my daddy I’d give him a minute on my day.”

  Cheri led Anna back downstairs. They snagged a bridesmaid who was made up to look more like a victim in a virgin horror flick than an attendant in a military wedding. “Kaci’s in Room 254,” Cheri said with the same inflection she might’ve given to a weather report. “She’ll be down in a minute.”

  The girl scurried off toward Kaci’s momma. Even though the matriarch wasn’t in sight, Anna knew she was that direction because of the flood of teary-eyed girls heading away from her. Cheri flashed a dimple. “Still gotta watch out for my little brother.” She led Anna into the ballroom, where most of the chairs were occupied for the ceremony.

  Exactly the same as they had been for Jules and Brad’s wedding.

  She sent a silent prayer to Kaci’s daddy that this one ended better for all involved.

  Cheri gestured behind the door. “Here you go.”

  Jackson stood at ease, waiting. He cocked a brow at Anna. “Any other problems?” His lips did their telltale twitching in the corners.

  “Nope. You?”

  “Let Lance have a go with him. The good professor’s promised to be civilized.”

  Anna felt her jaw hang.

  Jackson chuckled and offered her his arm. “Sometimes, Anna Grace, us menfolk know what we’re doing.”

  “But only sometimes.”

  “Nah.” His eyes crinkled. “Most of the time.”

  THE WEDDING WENT off without a hitch, thanks, Anna was sure, to Jackson’s insistence that they flank Dr. Kelly while he watched his ex-wife marry her new love. And as far as Anna could tell, it took only one little throat-clearing from Jackson to keep Dr. Kelly in his seat when the justice of the peace asked if anyone objected. When the bride and groom finished their vows, Dr. Kelly headed for the door. Jackson followed, but was back beside Anna before the couple finished their first kiss.

  Anna lifted an eyebrow.

  Jackson nodded.

  So that was that. No more ex-husband wedding crashers.

  Once the wedding party departed the room, the guests were ushered out into the hallway for the open bar while the hotel staff set up the ballroom for dinner. Jackson got sucked into a discussion with a couple of captains who worked for him, but he gave Anna a smile that promised she’d have his attention soon enough. She wandered through the crowd talking with friends. Lance had invited everyone in the CGOA, and Kaci had invited the entire physics department and half of the other departments on campus. Because, she’d said, if her mother was paying for a party, then by golly, they were having a party.

  And it was definitely a party. By the time dinner was announced, Anna had relaxed enough to have forgotten her bad memories of The Harrington.

  But then she sat down at her assigned seat.

  And found a face from her own past smiling hesitantly at her. Slightly crooked teeth, medals just this side of off-center, wary guilt in his eyes.

  She couldn’t stifle a surprised gasp. Her heart pounded, then spun as though her chest were in a centrifuge. Her fingers and toes iced as if they’d been dipped in liquid nitrogen. Her breathing went shallow and rapid.

  He wasn’t supposed to text her.

  He wasn’t supposed to email her.

  And he sure as hell wasn’t supposed to show up here, where he’d publicly dumped her then left her, and sit there smiling at her like he was stupid enough to think she’d consider smiling back.

  Her blood pulsed in her head, thrumming and swirling and crashing through her veins until it was louder than the din of the wedding guests around them.

  If he ruined this wedding, she’d dip his extremities in liquid nitrogen, chop them off, and shoot them up on a firecracker.

  She leaned back and folded her arms to block the view of her rapidly risin
g and falling chest.

  Not all his extremities.

  Just one.

  Neil’s smile faltered faster than his iPod had sunk in Kaci’s pool. “Hey, Anna.”

  As if he were supposed to be here.

  As if they were friends.

  As if he was an idiot.

  Anna could’ve asked him a million things. Why he was here? Who helped him get in? How had he arranged to be at her assigned table? What in hell did he hope to accomplish?

  Instead, she pointed to the door. “Leave.”

  The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She looked to her left, and found Jackson watching her two tables over. His gaze flicked to Neil, then back to Anna. “Okay?” he mouthed. He looked as disappointed as Radish did upon being denied fried chicken.

  The spinning in her chest stopped and a fire licked up in its place. She glared at Neil again. “What would your mother say if she knew you’d crashed a wedding?” she hissed.

  Neil’s cheek twitched. “My mother? What does she have to do with anything?”

  Anna stood so fast her chair tipped. She snatched her place tag and pointed at Neil with it. “Southern hospitality might dictate you’re welcome to stay, but I’m not Southern, and you need to get the hell out of here. You are not ruining this wedding too.”

  “Maybe we could—”

  “Excuse me, Anna Grace.” Jackson was suddenly beside her, his drawl bordering on dumb redneck. “Wondering if you might do me a favor and switch places.”

  Her eyes darted between her ex-husband and the man she’d hoped to strip out of his uniform tonight. Neil’s brows dipped in the pouty-disappointed look he used to get when it was her turn to pick the movie for date night. Jackson stayed cool and calm and Jacksonlike. She finally settled her gaze on him. “I—”

  “Don’t need any help,” he finished. He put his hand at the small of her back and nudged. Go on, his gaze said. Cool your jets and take it outside later.

  Great. Now he’d do the man thing with her ex-husband.

  Jackson’s lips quirked up. Just a smidge, right there in the corner.

  The room was growing quieter and people were starting to notice. Anna lifted her chin and headed for Jackson’s seat. Kaci and Lance were laughing with Cheri. Kaci’s momma was adjusting the straps on the dress of a junior bridesmaid. They hadn’t noticed. Maybe this reception was salvageable.

  If Jackson and Neil both survived sharing a meal.

  Anna’s new seat was between two of Lance’s cousins. They had almost as many stories about their misspent youths as Kaci did about hers. Still, it wasn’t enough to distract Anna. And when dinner ended and the cake was cut and the toasts done—without any overtly awkward moments this time—Neil dropped into the seat Lance’s cousin abandoned.

  “Listen, Anna, can we talk?”

  She stood. “Nope.” Jackson was still at the other table, nodding politely to one of Kaci’s older female relatives, but she knew he was watching.

  Waiting to be asked to help, she supposed.

  And she couldn’t decide if she appreciated it or not.

  “I’m sorry you’re upset,” Neil said. “If you’d give me a minute—”

  She didn’t let him finish. She was too busy walking away.

  Kaci and Lance were on the dance floor, happy and blissful. Anna hoped they stayed that way for many, many years.

  She herself would’ve been satisfied with just being happy. But Neil was following her, so she went the one place he wouldn’t follow.

  Not in uniform, anyway.

  Five minutes later, Cheri joined her in the bathroom. “From Jackson.” She handed Anna a margarita. “And I introduced your friend to three of the bridesmaids, so he’s currently occupied if you want to come out.”

  “I’m not hiding,” Anna said. “I’m avoiding making a scene.”

  Cheri laughed. “Too bad. C’mon. I’ve got lots of practice being a wingman. You’ve earned a nice time tonight.”

  She and Cheri returned to the ballroom. On one corner of the dance floor, Neil had his own fan club. He was slow-dancing with two women while three more giggled and watched. He looked as happy as if he were being pecked to death by a couple of loons. “You’re good,” Anna said.

  “Have to be.” Cheri flashed a cheeky grin. “Now let’s have a party.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  She had no fears of becoming too comfortable. Not when life was all too willing to smack her upside the head.

  —The Temptress of Pecan Lane, by Mae Daniels

  IF JACKSON HADN’T been in uniform, he would’ve handled this ex-husband business differently. Good-old-boy style. But he was in uniform, and he’d been raised to have better manners than wedding crashers.

  Besides, he didn’t reckon he’d get any pie if he got in Anna Grace’s way.

  How hiding out in the bathroom was winning, he couldn’t quite figure, but he’d never claimed to understand a woman’s why. Just her what. And Anna’s what was akin to Craig’s baby girl’s I do it myself.

  One of the bridesmaids eyed him. She had enough looks going for her underneath all that poufed fabric and big old hair bow that he was willing to bet her biscuits suffered for it. She gave him a coy smile. Miss Flo and Miss Ophelia would’ve liked this one. The girl put the right amount of swing in her hip when she took that tentative step toward him.

  But he had better plans for tonight, so he pulled Anna Grace’s cake plate closer to him. The girl’s eyes shifted to the plate, then back up at him. Her nose got a crease up top, and she swung her hips right around the other way.

  Jackson coughed back a chuckle.

  “You are my hero,” Anna Grace suddenly said next to him. She set the margarita down and flopped into her seat. All that soft material in her dress rippled around her legs as he hoped his sheets would before the end of the night. She snatched the cake plate—sans cake—and went to work sorting the mints he’d piled up as high as he could.

  He leaned in close to her. She hadn’t said thank you exactly, so he didn’t offer up that it was his pleasure. Instead, he took a sniff of her hair. “Still hoping for some pie.”

  “Your odds are definitely improving.” She flashed some tooth with her smile.

  Cheri sat on his other side, moving sedately in her mess dress. He had a good feeling she would’ve rather spun the chair around and straddled it as she would’ve in a flight suit, but that ornery spark told him she was having fun in her own right. “She won’t let me take care of him.”

  “I didn’t say anything about after the reception,” Anna said. She had five piles of mints going, lightest to darkest. She flicked a glance at Jackson. “What? No that ain’t right fit talk for ladies?”

  Funny girl, his Anna Grace. “No, ma’am. I trust she’ll do what needs doing.”

  “That’s right forward thinking of you.”

  “Forward thinking my ass.” Cheri leaned around him. “He got on my bad side once.”

  Anna mirrored her, talking around Jackson like he was a decoration.

  Not that he didn’t think he could be. Mamie liked to tell him he was handsomer than a June bug in uniform, and she swore on her collard greens she wasn’t just saying that.

  “What happened?” Anna asked.

  “He tried to hold a door for me.”

  “Now don’t go getting any ideas that I was playing favorites or think anybody’s weaker,” Jackson told Anna. “I held the door for all of ’em.”

  “All the ladies?”

  Cheri laughed. “They looked like ladies, didn’t they?”

  “That they did,” Jackson agreed. The whole lot of the freshmen on the drill team that year had been a sorry bunch after Hell Night. But Cheri and Lance, twins determined to one-up each other, had come through standing.

  Anna rolled her eyes. “Same story, different detachment.”

  “I don’t think I damaged anything vital,” Cheri said. “If that helps at all.”

  “I’ll let you know tomorrow.”
/>   If he was still getting pie, they could make as much fun as they wanted. Since Anna had slowed down on her sorting with half the plate still to go, his odds were looking better. At least sixty-forty now.

  He glanced back at the dance floor.

  The ladies were still dancing, but Anna’s ex had disappeared. Jackson gave the room a casual perusal. Wasn’t really his business why the yahoo was here, and Jackson enjoyed weddings little enough without sitting across from the hoity-toity captain through dinner. But Anna Grace deserved a nice night, and instead of being giggly and girly over her friend’s big day like females liked to do, she was letting Jackson do her favors.

  “Hey, Anna Grace,” her ex said behind Jackson.

  Anna’s pretty little nose scrunched up like she’d bitten into a rancid grapefruit. Her fingers vibrated over the mints. Fire flashed in her rapidly narrowing eyes.

  “Don’t call me that.” She had the tone of a wounded tiger stalking her hunter.

  The captain’s light gaze snapped to Jackson, then back at Anna. He rolled one shoulder and slid a plate to her. “Brought you some cake.”

  Jackson might’ve been insulted that his manners were in question over the lack of cake on the plate he had brought Anna, but the captain’s lack of knowledge of his ex-wife was pitiful. She eyed him like she wanted to smush that cake over the front of his mess dress and then stick the fork where his sun didn’t shine. Wasn’t a doubt in Jackson’s mind Louisa would’ve done it, but Anna Grace had the restraint of a proper Southern gentlewoman.

  She touched the plate only as much as she had to and scooted it in front of Jackson. “Cake?” she said.

  If it hadn’t been for the keep your trap shut and eat the damn cake message her eyes were broadcasting, he might’ve taken that as a hint that she’d let him into this battle with her.

  But he couldn’t deny some curiosity as to how deep that spark of wounded mischief went in her, so he murmured, “Thank you, ma’am,” and picked up the fork.

  Cheri caught his eye. She nodded at the idiot. Dumbass, she mouthed.

  “You want to dance?” Anna’s ex asked.

  Anna crossed her arms and her legs and stared him down like she triple-dog-dared him to repeat the question. But her pulse fluttered in her neck as fast as Jackson’s plans for tonight were tanking.

 

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