His Southern Temptation

chapter Nine


“Lucky, if this is your idea of showing me the highlights of Elliott, your technique needs work.”

Taylor leaned against the bars of holding cell number two in the Elliott City Jail trying to get Lucky’s attention. He wasn’t far, his back against the common cell bars, and she could have easily reached out and touched him. But she’d been told many times never to stick her hand in the cage of a wild animal. Tonight, he qualified for that description.

They’d been incarcerated for a little over two hours, thankfully separated from the other patrons of the bar, who were housed down the hall. She could hear them, yelling and bitching about the supposed violations of their constitutional rights, and she thought she heard someone whining and crying about being too young to be arrested without his parents being notified.

Lucky had been eerily quiet since Sheriff Burke had slapped the handcuffs on him at the Jolly Gent, and no amount of coaxing on her part had dragged him out of his funk. The only time he’d spoken was to update the sheriff on everything he’d observed at the Jolly Gent—the bald guy, underage patrons, possible drug business in the back room, and improper documentation for his workers. The sheriff had paused at the last one, casting a glance her way before shaking his head, thanking Lucky for the information and leaving the room.

“Hey.” She leaned into him, so close her breath moved the few strands of hair curling out from under his ball cap. She plucked at the overlarge sweatshirt and sweatpants the sheriff had lent her to wear and racked her brain for something to say that would alleviate the oppressive tension in the room. “You always said you wanted to see me in baggy sweats.”

He turned quickly, standing up and looming over her, the vehemence in his face catching her off guard. His hands fisted at his sides, white-knuckled, clenching and unclenching in a pulsing rhythm. She’d seen him irritated before, but never this angry. The change was disconcerting.

“Taylor, do you have any idea how dangerous that was tonight?” He stared at her, blue eyes blazing, and she was too shocked to answer him. “If any of those a*sholes had gotten their hands on you or had a weapon—”

His words broke off in a growl as he swiped the ball cap off his head and dragged rough fingers through his hair. His chest heaved and he gulped in ragged breaths in a clear effort to calm himself down and get some control. She let his breathing even out a little more before she reached for him through the bars. He left her hanging.

“Lucky, I’m fine, and you were there to protect me. I was never worried.”

“Well, you should have been.”

“I wasn’t.” Since he refused to touch her, she put her caress in her tone and hoped it calmed him down. “We had a plan and it was working out fine. Hell, even our preparation for what to do if trouble broke out went according to plan. Stop beating yourself up. I’m a grown woman.”

“Yeah? Well, then you should know better than to take such a crazy risk for nothing.”

“It wasn’t for nothing. I was trying to help you find Sarah.”

“How can you be so damn carefree about every single thing?”

“How can you be so cautious all the time?”

“Because I’ve learned that actions have consequences and someone always has to pay!”

She opened her mouth to respond but stopped when the sheriff, Teague and Beck entered the room.

Teague raked over her appearance, his deep frown causing a groove to form between his eyebrows. Suddenly, she was self-conscious standing there in garish stage makeup and dishwater gray, jail-issued clothing.

The sheriff stepped forward, pulling the keys from his belt and unlocking their cells, ushering them both out with brisk, impatient movements.

“You two can go.” Sheriff Burke didn’t look happy about letting them out, and he glared at Lucky over the rim of his reading glasses. “Your story checks out and I appreciate you giving me all the information you gathered.”

“Thank you, Sheriff,” they answered in unison. Taylor wasn’t sure if either of them could pull off a meek tone very well, but it seemed to pacify him for now.

“The bald guy, he matches the description of a guy who works for Eddie Wilkes,” Sheriff Burke said. “He’s a silent partner in lots of local businesses and we’re guessing he has an interest in the Gent.”

“Shit. That’s not good,” Lucky muttered as he rubbed his eyes.

“Who is Eddie Wilkes?” Teague asked.

“The closest thing Roanoke has to a mob boss. He’s a legitimate finance guy, owns banks and other things like that, but he also dabbles in drugs, theft, and the skin trade.” Lucky glanced at Taylor, the turn of his mouth becoming more rigid with every passing second. “Not a guy you want to notice you.”

The sweatshirt did nothing to stop the goose bumps from traveling over Taylor’s skin. She remembered the way the bald guy, Bruce, was looking at her up on stage and she knew what Lucky was thinking. She’d been noticed and tagged by one of Eddie’s goons.

The sheriff headed to the door, cutting a look between the chastened Lucky and the belligerent Teague. “If you boys are going to fight this out, get it out of my house or I’ll lock you up until the morning shift.”

With the adult supervision gone, Teague was quick to get to the point, as usual.

“What the hell was my sister doing at the Jolly Gent in the middle of a raid?”

Taylor opened her mouth to answer, but she realized the question wasn’t directed at her. It was like she wasn’t even there.

Teague was openly hostile now, edging into Lucky’s taller frame and deliberately invading his personal space. Beck stood by, watching them closely and placing his keys in his pocket as if he were preparing to keep his hands free—just in case.

“She was helping me with a case I’m working on for Jack.” Lucky crossed his arms, his expression mulish, his words clipped, and more than matching her brother in aggression.

“What could my sister possibly do to help you with a case at the Jolly Gent? It’s a men’s strip club the last time I checked. And now she’s on the radar of some southern Tony Soprano wannabe? That’s just f*cking perfect.”

Lucky flicked a glance in her direction, the internal debate about how much he should tell about their activities the past few days battling it out in his eyes. She didn’t think it was any of her brother’s business. In fact, she couldn’t imagine why her brother was here now. Taylor hadn’t called him. Sheriff Burke must have felt she needed big brother to come to the rescue, and she was growing angrier by the second. What she did with her body, in private or in front of an audience, was entirely up to her.

Teague finally glanced her way and then back at Lucky, dismissing her entirely. She was tired of being ignored. It was time to channel the late, great Patrick Swayze and take “Baby” out of the corner.

“I was dancing. It was my choice.” She let that float out there for a bit and waited for the explosion she knew was coming.

Teague closed his eyes for a moment, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose in the exact same way her father did when he was irritated. She could almost see the countdown clock winding down in his head.

“You were doing what?” His eyes, so much like her own, flashed with the anger he was doing a crappy job of hiding.

“I was dancing. Working the pole.” She smiled, deliberately picking a bigger fight because now she was just feeling mean. “One of the regular girls is missing and I tried to help find her. I was making progress until one of the customers tried to get a little too friendly tonight.”

“Too friend—?” Teague choked on his words, his face red and all attempts to keep a lid on his anger vanishing like smoke in the air. He turned and advanced on Lucky, Beck stepping in between the two of them before they made physical contact.

“Lucky, what the f*ck were you thinking to let my sister do something like that?”

“I was keeping an eye on her.” Lucky glared down at Teague, his body pushing against the hand Beck had on his chest. He was like a junkyard dog on a chain, snarling and spoiling for a fight. “Besides, there’s no telling your sister no when she decides to do something.”

“Then you should have called me and I would’ve stopped her.”

“He didn’t let me do anything!” Taylor shouted over the two them, physically inserting herself between the two of them to ensure they listened to her. “You two act like I’m not even here, like I need your permission to make decisions about my own life. This is why I never wanted to come back to this crappy little town.”

They both looked dazed, as if they were surprised to see her there at all, and she dug her fingers into her palms to keep from knocking sense into both of them.

“You two need to wake up. I’m a grown-ass woman and I’ve done a good job of taking care of myself for the past seven years without the both of you around to pass judgment on my decisions. You might not like the tattoos or the piercings, but I don’t care.”

Lucky opened his mouth to say something and she cut him off.

“Not a damn word, Lucky.” She swallowed hard, the bitterness of her words leaving a rough taste in her mouth. If anyone should have understood her, it was Lucky, but he still treated her like the silly girl who’d followed him around with a stupid crush, and that hurt like hell.

“You get no say in what I do with my life. You don’t get to waltz in after all these years and act like you’re important enough to factor in my decisions.”

It was low blow. And now that she’d said it she just wanted to take it back. Yeah, he’d betrayed her when he’d acted like she didn’t matter, but no part of her was doing a happy dance over the look of pure hurt darkening his baby blues to a watery gray.