“Whoops, sorry to interrupt.” It was Jack’s pal, Colby, a smart smirk on his face contradicting his claim of apology. “I was sent on a mission to find you. Your dad is about ready to give a toast.”
Jack blinked. “A toast?”
“Yeah, you know, a toast to the happy couple, where you listen to wonderful things about yourselves and then clink fancy glasses and down champagne.”
“Yes, don’t you remember, Jack.” Jillian intervened, drawing his attention by meeting his eyes and prodding. “Your dad mentioned it today and we thought it was a great idea.”
“Oh, yeah, right.”
Jack went along with her, as this was the first either of them had heard anything about Monty giving them a toast. “Well, we’d better get out there. Our guests are waiting,” she said, tugging Jack’s hand and marching him away from the mudroom and his grinning friend.
*
Jack stood next to Jillian, their arms around each other’s waists, facing the guests that were packed into the patio, champagne flutes well in hand. His father’s mouth was moving and he was saying all the right things and, for a minute, Jack fell into the charade and imagined what life would be like with Jillian by his side. He pictured them as they were yesterday, eating ice cream, chatting it up with Beau, laughing and having fun. A family.
But Jack had to protect Beau. It was his first priority. And entering into such dreams was asking for trouble. Beau had lost too much already. And, if Jack were honest, so had he. He’d never gotten over his mother’s abandonment, though no one ever spoke about it. Monty’s heart had been broken when his wife decided she didn’t want to be hitched to a lawman in a small town. She’d taken off for bigger and better things, heading to New York to pursue her dreams and one six-year-old little boy had lost his mother.
Jack looked at Jillian standing beside him, as beautiful as she’d always been and any man would find it impossible not to think of the possibilities with her. Especially now, as her unique flowery scent wafted to his nose and wisps of her honey blonde hair brushed his shoulders.
Side-by-side, at one time in their lives, they’d thought they could have it all.
But who was he kidding? Jillian was, and had always been, determined to make her own way in the world. If her company hadn’t fallen on hard times, she wouldn’t even be here. She hadn’t come back for him. It was something he reminded himself daily. Once she was done saving her company, once her year was up, she’d leave. He had no doubt. It was what he was counting on and what he feared the most. How crazy was that?
“And I know the future is bright for my son, Jack, and his new fiancée, Jillian. If ever I felt something deep in my heart, it’s that these two belong together. They deserve happiness and now it’s theirs for the taking now. So, raise your glass, to Jack and Jillie and wish them a lifetime of love.”
Jack smiled for the guests and touched his glass to Jillian’s. Meeting her gaze above the rim, they both sipped from the flutes as glasses clinked around them. With everyone’s eyes on them, he dipped his head and planted a kiss on her soft champagne soaked lips. It was the kiss he meant to give her in the privacy of the mudroom, the kiss he’d been dying to give her after watching her eat ice cream yesterday. Someone came up to remove the glasses from their hands, freeing him up so that he could encircle her waist, draw her closer and deepen the kiss.
The guests oohed and ahhed and applause broke out.
Jack ended the kiss sooner than he wanted and pulled slightly back. Jillian gave him one solid look, her eyes widening for an instant, before she turned toward the crowd of well-wishers and laughed.
Jack hugged her to his waist, in a show of unity. “Thank you for the toast, Dad, and thank you all for coming. Jillian and I, well, we appreciate you all being here to share in this celebration.”
*
“We did it,” Jack whispered to Jillian two hours later. The party was dying down and only a few guests lingered. “We are officially engaged.”
“And Hope Wells has a new story to tell,” Jillian said.
There would be photos in the newspapers, with far better captions than the last time he and Jillian had been photographed. Hopefully, their damage control had worked. “Yeah,” Jack said, nodding.
The sound of glass cracking against the wood floor interrupted Jack’s next thought and he turned in that direction. Dakota tugged on her hair and giggled, standing in a puddle of champagne. “Oops. The g-glass slipped outta my hand. S-sorry.”
She staggered toward the fireplace, one wobbly foot touching down after the other. She finally gripped the edge and held on, leaning heavily. Before Jack could make a move, Colby was there, in her face. “Day, damnit. You’ve had too much to drink.”
“Have not. It’s only a small buzz, Cole.”
“You’re hammered.”
“I am not hammered,” she shot back.
“Day? What’s gotten into you tonight? You’ve been—”
“Shut up, Cole. You’re not my boss tonight. J-Jack is Colby Ryan my b-boss tonight? Can h-he tell me what to do in your home?”
Jack pressed his lips together. Oh, boy, Day was going to give it to Colby and maybe that’s just what the guy needed, a swift kick in the ass. “No Day. Cole’s not your boss here. You’re a guest in my home.”
“Thanks, pal.” Colby shot him a look. “Can’t you see she’s had too much to drink?”
“Don’t you dare t-talk over me, Cole. I’m right here, I can h-hear you.”
“Crap, Dakota. C’mon, it’s time to go home. I’ll drive you.”
He took her hand and she immediately yanked it free, leaving Colby confounded. “I’m not r-ready to go home yet.”
“Oh, you are so ready.”
“You wouldn’t know when a gal’s ready for anything.” And then she mumbled something that sounded like you jerk.
“What does that even mean?” he asked.
Another mumble from Dakota and Colby turned to him again, a question in his eyes.
Jack shrugged. He wasn’t touching this one. He had enough to contend with right now with his own female problems.
Jillian walked over to Dakota, bypassing Colby and put a hand on her arm. “Would you like to sit down in the kitchen with me? I was just about to have a cup of coffee. I’ll get you a cup too.”
Dakota glared at Colby, folded her arms over her middle, and nodded to Jillian. “That would be nice.”
And on her way out, she turned to Colby, suddenly appearing sober as a Sunday morning minister. “I’m not an idiot, I won’t be driving tonight and I don’t need a ride from you.”
Colby frowned. “But I’m passing right by your place, I can drop you off.”
Dakota shook her head. “No thanks.”
And with that, she lifted her head sky-high and walked out the door with Jillian by her side, a slight wobble in her step.
“What in hell just happened?” Colby asked him.
Jack sighed. “Did I overhear you inviting Ella to the ranch?”
“Yeah, she mentioned she hadn’t ridden in years. I offered to take her riding one day. No big deal, right?”
Jack sighed. “Wrong. But I’m going to let you figure it out for yourself, greenhorn.”
“Greenhorn? Hell, I know more about horses than you have brain cells, Walker.”
“Yeah, but you know even less than I do about women. And with that, I rest my case.”
*
Monday morning, Jillian was back at work in her shop, going over her progress with Brett. He’d labored this past week including the weekend and the result of his hard work was evident. New shelves had been installed as well as marble counters and below them a few sets of easy slide drawers had been constructed. They only needed a coat of paint.
The cash register was at the back of the store, along with a DIY espresso counter. Freebies always brought in customers and more times than not, they usually wound up making a purchase. Besides, Jillian liked the idea of offering the guests in her shop a cup of coffee. She
wanted the experience in Barely There to be a positive one, even though Hope Wells hadn’t exactly welcomed her home with open arms. At least, the newspaper articles on their engagement today had been kind, most likely due to Jack’s sterling reputation in this town.
She’d already been visited by a few gossipmongers, stopping by the shop to offer congratulations and see her brand new engagement ring. She’d given each one of them a tour of the place, never once breaking her smile and extending them another invitation to return for her soft opening, which would be in a few weeks and was met by surprise and finally, some degree of approval.
“Baby steps,” she said to Brett.
He smiled. “I wouldn’t worry over it. You’re gonna do well here.”
“How can you tell?”
“This place is gonna rock it. Sure, you’ll get a tad bit of badmouthing by some, but your shop is a shiny new penny in Hope Wells and it’s gonna attract a herd of customers.”
“That’s the plan anyway.”
The plan? Jillian seemed to always have a plan and most of them had panned out, except for when they didn’t. And it was those plans-gone-awry that had caused her the most trouble. She was hoping to reverse her recent bad karma and offer something unique and engaging to the town.
“This new shop and a new husband soon, Miss Lane. Seems your plans are working out just fine,” Brett said, giving her a wink, and then heaved a massive shelf over his shoulder like it was a toy block. Muscles bunched and pulled as he walked past her and into the backroom.
Brett was a charmer, that was for sure and that wink probably worked on ninety-nine percent of the Hope Wells female population. But Jillian had Jack on the brain lately. She’d moved into the main house yesterday as a newly engaged woman and with the wedding just two weeks away, she supposed all was going well.
Yesterday, she’d taken up residence in Jack’s guest room in the main house and had turned in early, well before he’d come home from a late shift. She’d heard him enter through the garage and, minutes later, his footfalls stopped just outside her closed door. She felt his presence behind her door and her heart stilled, beating so darn fast in her chest she could hear the pounding up in her ears and only once he’d moved on, did her breathing calm again.
It was crazy. She was a grown woman playing cat and mouse games with her fake fiancé, but his warning kept getting into her head.
Don’t get emotionally involved.
She wouldn’t. She couldn’t.
She only hoped it wasn’t too late.
The new doorbell chimed, announcing a visitor, and Jillian’s head snapped up. Dakota Jennings walked in carrying a bunch of whimsical wildflowers. Her pretty face was downcast and sullen.
“Hello,” she said walking over, wearing jeans and a chambray shirt. Her black hair was roped into a long braid going down her back. “I hope I’m not disturbing you.”
“Not at all, Dakota. It’s good to see you. Is everything okay?”
The girl shook her head. “No, nothing’s okay. I’m here to apologize to you about the other night. I’m so sorry I made a scene. I usually don’t drink like that, but I… well, I am so sorry if I ruined your engagement party.”
“Oh, Dakota, you didn’t ruin a thing. Honestly. Jack and I were worried about you, though.”
“I know. I just left the sheriff’s office. I apologized to him too. He’s such a good guy, taking time to drive me home the other night. He didn’t need to do that.”
“He wanted to make sure you got home okay.”
“I-I shouldn’t have been so careless. It’s not me.” Then she glanced at the flowers in her hands as if she’d forgotten they were there. “Oh, here,” she said, offering Jillian the flowers. “Please accept my apology and, really, there’s nothing to worry about. I was having—”
“A moment?”
“Yeah, seems like I’m having a lot of those lately. I think it’s time I made some decisions about my life.” She shrugged her shoulders hard, dismissing the subject.
“Well, thank you for the flowers, Dakota. They’re beautiful and if ever you want to talk, please come see me. I know we don’t know each other well, but I’m willing to listen and sometimes an objective opinion can really help.”
“Thanks,” she said, nodding, a glow entering her eyes. “I appreciate that.” Next, she did a three-sixty around the stop, perusing all the renovations. “This place is shaping up nicely. I kinda can’t wait to see your merchandise.”
Really? Jillian didn’t usually judge a book by its cover, but the tomboyish female didn’t seem the type to go in for fancy lingerie. Although, she’d seen how she’d dressed the day she’d bid on Jack and then again at the engagement party and she’d been stunning. “And I can’t wait to show it to you. I will definitely invite you to my soft grand opening in a few weeks.”
“Thank you. I’d love that.”
“I’d love it too.”
“What’s with all this love going around?” Brett walked in, interrupting them by standing close, hands on hips, his tool belt wrapped below his waist gunslinger style. He was a confident guy, without being a jerk. Jillian was just learning how to make that distinction. “You got some leftover for me, Day?”
She chuckled. “In your dreams, Brett Collier.”
“May Day, you break my heart.” He crossed his hand over his heart.
She shooed him away as if he was a pesky bug. “Get yourself back to work. And don’t you be telling the world my middle name now.”
“Yeah, I know. It’s our little secret.”
Dakota rolled her eyes. “To think I have the misfortune of being his neighbor,” she said good-naturedly to Jillian.
“Yeah, but I’m handy to have around,” he said, pointing the butt end of his hammer at her, before walking off.
“You two are friends?” Jillian asked.
Dakota kept her eyes on him until he settled himself by a shelf and began pounding nails. “Neighbors.” And then she admitted, “And friends, I guess.”
“Well, he was able to put a smile on your face.”
“Yeah, Brett makes me laugh. Most days, anyway.”
“A man who can do that, is worth his weight.” And suddenly Jack’s grinning face appeared in her mind.
By late afternoon, Jillian finished up her work and it gave her a renewed sense of pride to lock the doors on her establishment. It never got old, the feeling of accomplishment, the thrill of seeing a new shop come to life and be nurtured to success. No matter how many stores, no matter how many problems, she always came away with a swell of emotion lodging in her throat that she’d built this tiny-sized empire on her own. It was the one thing she had to hold on to, the one thing that brought her happiness.
Unconditionally.
She clicked the lock on her little red sports car and climbed in. It really wasn’t a practical car at all and she’d thought about replacing it with something roomier, something that made sense, but tonight she didn’t care. She loved this car and what it signified; her independence, her success. She started the engine and pulled out of her parking spot, driving slowly along the streets of Hope Wells as though she didn’t have a care in the world. She wasn’t especially eager to get home, or rather to get to Jack’s home and into the role of pretend fiancée.
But Hope Wells was a small town and even though she’d taken the longest route possible, too soon she found herself sitting in Jack’s driveway. She killed the engine, took a big breath and got out, clicking the door locked.
She entered the house she’d share with Jack for the next year, tossed her purse on the sofa, and headed directly to the kitchen. She saw the blood-soaked dish towel first, laying on the white counter tiles and followed the path of crimson drops until she spotted Jack clutching his gut slouched over the kitchen sink.
Her throat hitched as she rushed over to him. “Jack, you’re bleeding.”
Chapter Nine
“I’m fine, Jill-ian.” Jack insisted as she tucked herself under his a
rm, propping him the best she could and gently guiding him into his bedroom.
“You’ll be finer once I get you down on this bed.”
“Ain’t that the truth, sweetheart,” he muttered, a sad attempt at levity.
His face was cut just under his right eye and blood continued to seep from that wound. His mouth was swollen and bruises were turning color right before her eyes. His right hand was bloodied at the knuckles and there were bloodstains over the top half of his uniform.
Jillian bit her lip, her stomach twisting, seeing Jack injured like this. He was a lawman and with that job came risk, but Hope Wells wasn’t exactly a crime haven and the dangers of Jack’s job had never occurred to her before.
She helped lower him down, his head hitting a nice soft pillow. “What happened, Jack?”
“I was jumped from behind and worked over pretty darn good.”
“Oh, God.”
“You should see the other guys.” The swelling on his mouth made for a pretty grim smile. Leave it to Jack to joke, even about something this gruesome.
“Guys? As in plural?”
He gave his head a slight nod. “Three.”
Jillian froze, her heart stilled for a moment, unable to comprehend Jack being beaten up by three thugs. This kind of thing wasn’t supposed to happen in Hope Wells. “Hold on a sec,” she said. “I’ll be right back.”
Jillian quickly gathered the supplies she needed from the bathroom and returned with antiseptic, gauze, water, and towels. She rested her bottom on the side of the bed. “Your shirt is soaked. Do you want me to take it off?”
His brows lifted and the innuendo didn’t need qualifying. Quickly, though, he gave her a thoughtful look and sat up. With his help, she removed the shirt carefully, rolled it up into a ball and set it onto the floor. He flopped back onto the bed.
“Who would do this to you?” she asked.
“There were some hangers-on after the rodeo,” he said through puffy lips. “We had a run in or two. Could’ve been them.”
“But you’re not sure?”
“Not exactly. I called it in as I was driving home.”
Loving the Texas Lawman Page 12
