Brides on the Run (Books 1-4): Small-Town Romance Series

by Jami Albright

  Gavin kissed Honey on the forehead. “Don’t worry. I’ve got this.”

  She closed her eyes and a single tear trickled down her sweet face. “I know.”

  Floyd stepped in front of him on his way out the door. “Son, that’s my daughter on the television. You dragged her into this mess, and I expect you to clean it up. Do I make myself clear?”

  He stood motionless, not sure what to do. In the past, if anyone got in his face like Floyd just had, he’d have kicked their ass. But this was Scarlett’s father and…he was right. With a gigantic effort, Gavin swallowed his pride. “I know, and I’m sorry. You have my word I’ll do everything in my power to make this right.”

  Floyd nodded again. “Alright then.”

  Before Gavin made it to the door, Honey’s emotion-clogged voice reached him. “And for heaven’s sake, Gavin, buy the girl some better underwear.”

  Scarlett hit the delete button on her computer and watched an hour’s worth of work disappear. Good riddance. It was crap anyway. She scrubbed her face and glanced at the time on her computer. Gavin had been gone more than an hour and her emotions hadn’t settled at all.

  She pushed against the memory of standing before him naked and tried to close her mind to the ugly words they’d spewed at each other. But she couldn’t forget the hurtful exchange and her body nearly burst into flames when she recalled how he’d devoured every single inch of her with his sizzling stare.

  Guilt beat at her conscience for the way she’d treated him. It was cruel to use the money against him. She was a lot of things, but cruel had never been one of them.

  She shut down her laptop and went in search of a diversion. Channel surfing and mindless television should do the trick. It was time for Hollywood Entertainer, and though she’d never admit it, she was as much a fangirl of the host, Shay Wallace as Luanne. Yes, a Hollywood hottie and then Wheel of Fortune should do the trick.

  She ignored the fact that this was the same evening routine Honey had and what that said about her.

  Gavin let the truck roll to a stop. “When we get in there you should do the talking.”

  “Me? You’re her husband.” Luanne gaped at him.

  “Yeah, well, if she’s seen the story she’ll likely blame me for the whole disaster. If she hasn’t seen it, I think it would be better if the information came from you.” At her unconvinced stare, he continued, “We…kind of fought before you found me at the diner. Things were said. I doubt she’ll believe I have her best interest at heart.”

  The ferocious elf in the seat next to him gave him a squinty-eyed look. “What did you say to her?”

  “Hey, it wasn’t only me. She said some crappy things too.” He turned off the truck and chuckled. “Trust me, the woman gives as good as she gets.”

  Luanne’s lips twitched, and her expression danced with humor.

  “What?” This woman put him on edge, she saw way too much.

  “Nothing.”

  “What is it, dammit?”

  “You like her,” she teased.

  He blew out a breath and glanced away. “Shut up.”

  “You do. It’s written all over your face.”

  “Jack’s been asking about you.” It was all he could do not to burst out laughing at the horrified look on her face. Interesting, Luanne at a loss for words. He turned off the truck and exited the vehicle.

  She jumped out of the truck and followed him up the walk. “What’d he say? It was probably something crappy, wasn’t it? You know what? I don’t care.”

  “Sure you don’t.”

  She played with one of her diamond earrings. “I don’t care. Really.”

  He gave her a look that clearly communicated he thought she was full of shit.

  She stomped up the porch steps. “Come on. I need to talk to Scarlett.”

  They pushed open the front door and were greeted by cat-calls coming from the television. Scarlett sat on the sofa, her chin resting on her bent knees and tears streaming down her face. When the clip on the TV got to the end, she rewound it, and the whole thing started over.

  “Oh no.” Luanne made a choked sound.

  “Is she alright? She doesn’t look good.”

  Luanne carefully moved to Scarlett and kneeled in front of her. “Hey, friend. You okay?”

  No reply.

  “Scarlett?” Luanne rubbed her hands up and down her best friend’s arms. “Why don’t you turn off the TV?”

  Scarlett hit rewind and started the clip again.

  Luanne glanced at him over her shoulder, distress etched on her face. “Sweetie, it’s going to be alright. Gavin’s taking you to Los Angeles. Won’t that be fun?”

  Scarlett never looked away from the screen. “You know what they’re all gonna say, don’t you Lou? They’re gonna say I’m just like my mother. In fact, I’m pretty sure there’s a story about her dancing on a table that gets told anytime her name comes up.”

  “Oh, sweetie, I know. But you’re not your mother,” Luanne soothed.

  Her mother? What did her mother have to do with any of this? He searched his memory. Had Scarlett ever mentioned the woman before?

  “I don’t know if that’s true anymore, Lou.” She hit rewind again. “That,” she pointed the remote at the image of her dancing, “looks a whole lot like her.”

  His wife still hadn’t looked at either one of them. She kept watching that damn clip. Her flat, hopeless tone was like thorns scraped along his naked skin. He couldn’t wrench his gaze from her. A foreign sensation sliced at his heart and something close to sadness choked him. He’d ruined this poor woman’s life.

  Luanne whispered something to Scarlett, and without warning his wife vaulted from the sofa and sprinted from the room.

  “What did you say to her?” He spat at Luanne.

  Luanne rested on her heels. “I told her it wasn’t that bad, all anyone really saw was her underwear.”

  A loud crash and screaming had the two of them bolting toward the back of the house. When they rounded the corner, the sight of Scarlett murdering her sensible panties stopped them in their tracks. White material flew into the air, and Scarlett’s bawling accompanied the vicious snip of scissors. “Never again. Never again.”

  Luanne cautiously stepped into the room. “Scarlett, why don’t you put the scissors down, and let’s talk about this.”

  Scarlett’s head snapped up, and her stormy, bloodshot eyes focused on her best friend. “What do you want to talk about, Luanne, my table-dancing moves, or my shot-shooting skills, maybe what a killer French-kisser I am? I know. Let’s talk about how the whole world now knows I wear GRANNY PANTIES.”

  The pain and humiliation in her voice fastened itself to his feet and drew him into the room. “Scarlett, baby, please don’t cry.”

  Her head jerked around to him. She jumped up and ran at him. Just when he thought she would stab him for getting her into this mess, she dropped the scissors and leapt into his arms. He stumbled back a step but caught her easily.

  “Hey, I’ve got you.”

  “I’m so sorry,” she cried.

  “Why are you sorry?”

  “I was so mean to you earlier. And your record people must be scandalized by my behavior.”

  He chuckled. “Scandalized? That was pretty tame compared to most of the people they deal with. Present company included.” He inhaled her honeysuckle scent and held her tighter to him. “Don’t worry. We’ll work this out together, I promise.”

  He caught sight of Luanne sitting on the floor, a shit-eating grin on her face. Whatever. He wasn’t a good person, he knew that, but he wasn’t enough of a dick to let this decent woman hang in the wind alone.

  Chapter 16

  The smell of something delicious lured Scarlett from the safety of the warm shower. The rich, aromatic scent reminded her of home, and the heart-sickness she’d spent twenty minutes scrubbing away thundered over her.

  It’s over. Move on.

  That was easier said than done when the enti
re free world had seen her behave so badly.

  She toweled off, wiped the mirror free of condensation, and nearly fainted. Dark circle ringed eyes, pale, sallow skin, and freckles that stood out like chicken pox on a corpse. She was a hot mess.

  No wonder.

  She’d cried all the way to the airport the night before, and most of the flight to LAX. They hadn’t arrived at Gavin’s condo until midnight, when she’d promptly crawled into bed, ready to be done with the whole blessed day.

  The ferocious growl that erupted from her stomach reminded her she hadn’t eaten since breakfast the day before. Had it only been yesterday that the entire universe had seen…that?

  She lowered her head and hid behind the fall of her hair. How had her life gone so far off the rails? Especially when she’d done everything in her power to keep it locked down with tight, focused control, to never give those small-minded, small-town people anything to talk about.

  Could she ever show her face in Zachsville again? If it weren’t for her family and Luanne, there’d be no going back.

  Her family. She’d sent them a few quick texts as they were leaving the farm and hadn’t spoken to them since. She dreaded the phone call.

  She made her way to her bag, sitting on the bed in the adjoining room. Her favorite yoga pants, a Houston Texan’s t-shirt, and fuzzy socks helped her feel human again.

  Her phone vibrated, signaling a text. She had thirty-six messages. Most were from Luanne and her family, one from her agent, Marie, and one from an unknown number.

  She dropped to the bed and opened the text from Marie.

  Call me immediately. Carousel is NOT happy. We need to do damage control, NOW.

  No real surprise there, but her heart dropped just the same. She was competitive by nature, and the thought of forfeiting the contest to Sarah Belle was more than she could stand. Even though it grated that she had to change what she created to participate in their ridiculous competition. Her books could and should stand on their own merit.

  Maybe she didn’t want to be associated with them. Maybe she’d tell them to go to hell. Who was she kidding? She wasn’t that ballsy. She paged back to her incoming text and made a mental note to call Marie.

  Sweat broke out along her hairline, and her heart bucked like a wild mustang when she saw who the owner of the unknown number was. Poppy.

  You can run, but you can’t hide. Tick-tock, little jailbird. Time’s a wastin’. Here’s a small sample of what the world will see if you don’t convince your father to sell. P.S. Loved your performance yesterday. You’ve got moves, girl. :-)

  That bitch sent her a smiley-face emoji.

  Scarlett scrolled down to the picture below the text. An officer was behind her snapping cuffs onto her wrist, as she looked over her shoulder, horror in her eyes, and streaks of black mascara streaming down her face.

  The funeral dirge playing in her head swelled to epic proportions. This would be the death of her reputation, the death of everything she’d worked for, the death of her good name. There was still the slim possibility that the Vegas debacle could be written off as a one-time thing. A night of blowing off steam that got out of hand. But this? This would be like catnip for the residents of her fine town. They’d revel in it, be obsessed with it, and spread it like wildfire.

  And her family…Poppy’s lies would hurt them. Hadn’t they endured enough from the judgmental people of Zachsville? She couldn’t allow that to happen again.

  There really wasn’t any other choice. Her family would suffer if she didn’t fix this. She grabbed her phone.

  “Hey, Lou.”

  “Hey, dirty dancer, how’s it hangin’?”

  “Har-har.”

  “Too soon?”

  “Just a tad.”

  “Sorry. How are you? I’ve been sick with worry all night.” The concern in her bestie’s tone gave her the courage to say what needed to be said.

  “I’m fine.” It wasn’t a lie. Physically she was fine. “Listen, I need some help.”

  “Anything. You know that.”

  The soft carpet of the bedroom cushioned her steps as she paced. “I need you to listen and don’t get mad.”

  “Hang on.” She heard Luanne close her office door. “I’m back, and I promise not to get mad.”

  “Remember the semester you studied abroad?”

  “Yes.”

  “Right after finals that semester, I ran into Poppy on campus.”

  “Poppy Sims?”

  “Yes. She told me about this party where there’d be food, and I could dress up. I was broke, bored and wanted to have some fun, so I agreed to go. But she said I had to use the name Heaven Leigh to get in. You know Poppy is weird, I thought it was one of her loony ideas to appear superior, so I did it.” She stopped pacing and peeked through the blinds. But the only thing she could see was the gray stucco building next door. “It was at this swanky house in the ritzy part of town. As soon as I walked in, I noticed there were a lot of older men at the party. It gave me the creeps watching them with the college girls that were there. To say they had roaming hands is an understatement. I was starting to get uncomfortable and was about to leave when the place was raided. I was arrested and held for twelve hours in the county jail. Then for no apparent reason was released with no charges filed.”

  “What? Why?”

  “She was running an escort service, Luanne. She got away, and somehow got me out. I thought that was the last of it. We never spoke of it again, and thankfully she graduated soon after that. I thought it was a bad dream buried in the past. But when I went to give her the money for the farm she refused to take it and tore up the check.”

  “That’s ridiculous. She can’t refuse to take your payment.”

  “I know, and I told her so, but then she said if I didn’t convince Daddy to sell to her she’d release the pictures. They’re bad, Lou. She’s texted two of them. Hang on, I’ll forward the text.” She tapped her phone screen and sent the text. When she heard Luanne’s gasp, she knew they’d arrived.

  “That bitch,” Luanne snarled.

  “Yep.”

  “There’s a smiley face at the end.”

  “Apparently, it’s her thing.”

  “She’s a sick bitch then.”

  “That’s true too.”

  “What are we going to do?”

  Scarlett dropped down onto the bed. Never had six words sounded sweeter to her. “I don’t know. I was hoping you would have some ideas.”

  “I have an appointment in a few minutes, so text me everything you can remember about that night and the people that were there. The other girls, the men, where it was, everything.”

  “I will. Thank you, Lou. I love you.”

  “Then start acting like it.” The bite in Luanne’s words caught her off guard.

  Hurt knifed through her heart. “What do you mean? You know I love you.”

  “This is the second major event in your life that I’ve found out about after the fact. I gave you a pass on the Gavin thing because it had only been a couple of days. But this thing with Poppy happened years ago, and you’re just now telling me about it. That’s not how you treat someone you love, Scarlett.”

  “Excuse me for not wanting anyone to know I was arrested for prostitution.”

  “Was it true?”

  “Was what true?”

  “Were you prostituting yourself that night?”

  “No! You know I wasn’t.”

  “You’re right, I do know. But even if you had been, your family and I would still love you and stand by you. Think about that. I have to go.”

  The line went dead, leaving Scarlett alone with her guilty conscience. Luanne was right. They would all stand by her. Hadn’t they already? She was such an idiot. Still, she’d do anything to protect them.

  A pan banged and Gavin cursed downstairs. Knowing she’d have to face him made her gut hurt for a reason, besides the lack of food. One more person she’d let down. This whole marriage farce was to rede
em his reputation, and she didn’t think her table dance had done anything to further that endeavor, regardless of what he said.

  Another hunger rumble reminded her she’d have to deal with her stomach soon. No more hiding in the comfort of the bedroom. Not that it offered more than the basic required items for a bedroom. A bed, a nightstand, and a lamp adorned the space. That was it. No art, no family mementos, no gold records hung on the walls, just lots and lots of nothing.

  She fortified herself, opened the door, and got another whiff of something amazing. As she followed the scent of deliciousness downstairs, she noticed the same sparseness she’d seen in the bedroom. Blank walls, beige carpet, basic furniture. How could a man so full of life and music live in such a hollow space?

  In only three short weeks he’d left an impression in her house. Spiral notebooks full of songs, chord charts, picks, and used guitar strings seem to follow in his wake.

  He drew beautiful pictures too. She’d hung the first sketch on the fridge, like a proud mom, and marveled at his adorable and unexpected reaction. He’d been embarrassed, and obviously delighted. In fact, she’d gotten up during the night and spied him standing in front of the fridge grinning like a fool at the picture. His drawings now adorned every room of her house.

  On the bottom step, her feet faltered, her troubles fled, and sumo-wrestling fireflies filled her empty stomach. Gavin stood shirtless and barefoot, wearing a pair of low-slung Levi's. The guardian angel tattoo on his upper back bunched and moved as he flipped pancakes on the stove.

  He was such a contradiction. Not only was he the hot rock star with the ego to go along with it, but he was also kind and unbelievably protective. He’d held her all the way from Zachsville to Houston. When they’d received curious stares at the airport, he arranged for them to wait in the airline’s VIP lounge until their flight left. She’d never been so thoroughly cared for.

  She took care of her people, and they knew she could take care of herself. But yesterday, when she could barely string three words together, he’d treated her like she was a precious, breakable thing. At the moment when she’d needed him most, he’d been there to save the day.