His Southern Temptation

chapter Twenty-Six


“Okay, boys. You need to get your butts out of my barn and stop scaring the animals.”

For the second time that week, Lucky woke in a strange place with a belligerent older man doing a loud impersonation of the world’s most annoying alarm clock. But this time he had a killer hangover, his father was the one delivering the obnoxious wake-up call, and Taylor was on a flight back to Hawaii. He rolled over on the hay bale he’d settled on last night to pass out, his head spinning in the opposite direction from the rest of the barn. Fun.

“Come on, ladies. The pity party is over and I’ve got a farm to run. So get moving.” Owen punctuated his words with a firm, jarring shake to Lucky’s shoulder, and from the gripes and groans behind him, Beck and Jack were getting the same treatment.

“Shit, Dad. Do you have to be so loud?” He sat up gingerly, a hand raised to shield his eyes from the glare of the morning, and caught his father prowling around the barn moving equipment loudly from one place to another. On the nearest hay bale, Beck was shirtless and sporting the beginnings of a shiner under his right eye. Jack sat, propped up against one of the horse stalls, his lower lip swollen and dried blood on the front of his shirt.

Lucky hurt all over.

“I’m no louder than you three jackasses were last night. It took me offering to watch one of those romantic comedies to keep your mama from coming down here to see what was going on.” He eyeballed all of them as he leaned against a piece of equipment, his crossed arms making him look huge. “Want to tell me why last night sounded like a cage fight and you all smell like the inside of a Jim Beam bottle?”

Beck and Jack looked toward Lucky, neither of them wanting to spill his dirt. He sighed, knowing his dad wasn’t going to let it go until he found out what happened. Hell, by today most of the town would know anyway.

“Taylor left me.”

His dad cocked his head to one side, confusion marring his features. “I figured it was a woman, but my money was either that this knucklehead had pissed off Michaela”—he gestured toward Jack and then turned a finger to Beck—“or this one couldn’t keep all of them straight and had a jealous boyfriend after him.”

“Hey,” Jack said.

“That happened once, and I never get to live it down” was Beck’s indignant contribution.

His dad ignored them. “But I didn’t know you and Mary-Taylor were that serious, so I think you need to catch me up.”

“She was going to stay and we were going to start a life together.”

“You love her?”

“Yes.” He’d never been so sure of anything in his life.

“Does she love you?”

“I think so.”

“Did you propose to her?”

“That was the plan.” Lucky sighed as he leaned over and rested his elbows on his knees. This position, with his head slightly bowed, made the room stop spinning. Not throwing up was key for this type of conversation. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the small jeweler’s box he’d taken to carrying with him everywhere. “I’ve even got a ring.”

He explained what happened to his dad, telling him about the years of meeting up with Taylor and his realization that she was the woman for him. When he got to the last couple of weeks, the details were no less painful with twenty-four hours of distance.

Lucky realized this was the most he’d shared with his father since he was a boy. Instead of being weird, it felt really good—safe and right—to lean on his dad for guidance.

“So, why aren’t you on a plane to Hawaii?” Owen asked.

Lucky wasn’t the only one surprised. Jack and Beck both made the sounds of disbelief that matched their dual expressions.

“What are you talking about, Dad? I can’t go with her and still have the farm. The last time I checked I couldn’t lift it up and transplant it to the big island.”

“Of course not. You go with her and find something else to do. Believe me, you can do anything as long as you’re with the woman you love.” He nodded toward Jack. “You did the same thing, didn’t you? You met Michaela and suddenly the where and when wasn’t as important as the who. Am I right?”

Jack nodded. “Best decision I ever made.”

“What about the farm? The debt?”

“I’m in no hurry to retire, and I’ll do what I’ve done the past couple of years and lease out some of the land, hire some help. I might even sell it to Summerfield eventually.” Owen pushed off the tractor he was leaning against and walked over to Lucky, laying a broad, heavy hand on his shoulder. “But I can tell you what I’m not going to do. I’m not going to take a dime of your money if it keeps you from the woman you love.”

Lucky was stunned. One voice in his head yelled that he couldn’t walk away from the farm, his parents, and what he knew he wanted. But his heart throbbed with the loss of Taylor and whispered for him to run to Hawaii as fast as his legs would carry him.

“But…”

“But what? Can you imagine loving any other woman? Any other woman having your babies? In your bed?” Owen paused and gave Lucky time to think.

For years, he’d defined himself by the job he did. That was where he found his fulfillment and his place in the world. But with Taylor, loving her was the job he wanted to do the most. He couldn’t fathom anyone else making him feel like a lottery winner every second of every day. If he was brutally honest with himself, she’d hooked him early and no one had ever had a realistic chance of taking what was always hers.

But she didn’t want him.

“No. It won’t work between us. Taylor doesn’t trust me, and I don’t know how to change that.”

“Well, get your butt to Hawaii and prove her wrong.”

“It’s not that easy, Dad.”

The buzzing of his phone forestalled any further argument. He pulled it out of his pocket and checked the display. A text from an unknown number. He tapped the screen and it opened up, revealing a photograph.

F*ck. His hand shook with shock and rage, the image of Taylor held by Mr. Clean in grotesque HD swimming before his eyes. The message below the picture read: Bring what I want. Come alone. Tomorrow. 2 pm. @JG.

Anger rushed through him, casting a hazy red film over his vision and buzzing in his ears. He took a deep breath. Another. Focusing his mind, pushing aside the distraction of his own fear. Training. Training. His training would get him through this and Taylor on a plane to Hawaii and a safe life.

“Lucky.” Jack was at his side, peering down at the phone’s screen. He gasped, grabbing it out of his hand to get a better look. “What the hell is going on?”

“What’s going on is that Eddie Wilkes wasn’t joking. He wants his money and he’s crazy enough to pull Taylor into this mess.”

“So what are you going to do?” Jack asked.

Lucky stood, his mind already taking this puzzle apart, running the million different ways to play this.

The son of bitch had taken Taylor.

There was only one way this was going to end.

“I’m going to kill Eddie Wilkes.”

…

“Teague, I need your help.”

Lucky barged into the law offices of William Teague Elliott III, bypassing a squawking Jerline to bust through the inner office door. Teague looked up from the desk, an eyebrow quirked in interest over the frames of the glasses he wore. Not easily rattled, he placed his pen down and eased back in his chair before he responded. His voice was even but barely civil in tone, and Lucky knew this was going to be a hard conversation. He braced himself for impact.

“Most people make an appointment, Lucky, but feel free to just stroll on in and explain what the hell you’re talking about.”

“Eddie Wilkes has Taylor.”

Teague leaped to his feet, his chair hitting the back wall with a loud thump and the crunch of punctured drywall. “Why does Eddie Wilkes have my sister?”

“I was looking for a missing woman—Sarah Morgan. She worked for Wilkes and took off with a bunch of his money. He wanted me to find her and get his money back.”

“How much?” Teague came around the desk, his hands tightly fisted at his sides, his whole body vibrating with his anger. He’d always admired Teague’s ability to mask his emotions, and this break in his armor was unnerving.

“Two hundred thousand dollars.”

“Jesus.”

“If I don’t get the money to him”—his voice broke a little on his words and he didn’t bother to hide it—“if I don’t, he’ll hurt her. I’m sure of it.”

Lucky knew the punch was coming, but it still caught him off guard. Pain shot along his jaw, lighting up the darkness behind his closed lids like the Fourth of July. It wasn’t enough to bring him down, but it rang his bell and Teague was able to get in a couple more blows before he was able to raise his hands and shove him away. They stood facing each other, squared off like enemies. It was hard to believe they’d ever been friends. He couldn’t blame Teague for his reaction. Lucky had f*cked this up. Big time.

Lucky swallowed, his anger at his own stupidity threatening to close his throat as he wiped the blood trickling from the cut in his lip. He should have ended this long ago, should have never allowed Taylor to take the job at the Jolly Gent. Should have never let this thing get to this point.

“Look, I know you’re pissed at me, but this isn’t about our friendship.”

Teague snorted, his derision etched into the lines around his mouth.

“This is about getting Taylor back safe and sound. Our shit needs to wait until later.”

“This is your fault.”

“I know.”

“If you’d kept your hands off her, this would have never happened.” Teague advanced on him again, his fierce expression faltering from anger a little as he continued. “You used my sister as a booty call, Lucky. Why couldn’t you just leave her alone?”

“Because it was never like that. Never. Teague, the stuff I had to do for work. It was ugly and dark and I don’t know how I would have made it through all those years without your sister. Taylor saved me so many times. She was my refuge from all the hate and death in my life. She was all things good and light and kind, and I couldn’t help myself.”

“So you used her bed as a convenient place to crash when being a Marine got too tough?”

His temper rose, hot and sharp in his chest, and Lucky took a deep breath to relieve his ire. This would go nowhere if he rose to the bait.

“Teague, becoming Taylor’s lover was crazy and impetuous and I don’t expect you to understand why we did it the way we did. But understand this…” He lifted a hand, touching his chest just over his heart in a signal used by his Marine buddies to signal their commitment to the cause and to each other: semper fi—always faithful. “I love your sister. I’m all in with my heart, my body, my geographic location, all my worldly goods. The one thing I will do above anything else is make sure she knows it every second, every minute, every f*cking hour of her life. It’s what I’m meant to do.”

“Love? That’s not what it looked like to me when you dragged her into the mess with Bodean Taggert and that a*shole from Roanoke.” Teague shook his head. “I’d hate to see what happens when you hate someone.”

The seconds clicked by, marked by the tick of the grandfather clock in the office waiting room. He was done explaining. All that mattered was how he felt about Taylor and he’d made that pretty f*cking clear.

“I laid myself out here, and if you don’t want to believe me, then that’s your problem.” He pointed a finger at Teague, nudging him out of his face with a light shove to the chest. “Right now, I need you to help me get my money so that I can go get her and bring her home.”

They stared for a few seconds longer until Teague sighed, his head dipping as he eased off his glasses and tossed them onto the desk. “So, what do you need me to do?”

“I need your help to get my money to me in a few hours. That’s all I’ve got,” Lucky said.

“You’re going to give your money—the money to buy the farm—to Eddie Wilkes? What about staying here?”

“It’s only money, and it won’t matter since I’m going to Hawaii with Taylor.” He swallowed hard, his mind straying into dark possibilities of how this could end if he didn’t get that cash. “If she’ll have me.” Lucky withdrew a piece of paper from his jeans and handed it over to Teague. “This is my bank account information for the transfer. I know there’s tons of red tape and shit we don’t have time for. Can you make this happen?”

Teague took the paper, nodding his agreement. “Is this all of your settlement?”

“Most of it.” He inched toward the door. He had a few things to take care of before he needed to be at the Jolly Gent.

Teague followed him, grabbing his arm, stopping him when they were nose to nose.

“You make her safe. I don’t care what you have to do to make it happen.”

Lucky answered with the only acceptable option. “I will.”