Jack steered the car down a country road. The snack mix he’d eaten slithered around his belly like snakes on a hot rock. Renting the car had been his biggest coup. Honestly, he hadn’t thought he could pull it off, since he hadn’t had an ID or credit card, but he’d turned on the charm and out the door they went with a four-door sedan.

“You will arrive at 2354 Amethyst Lane in five minutes,” the voice from the GPS said.

Damn it. He didn’t want to do this. In fact, he wasn’t going to do this. He had no obligation to anyone to put himself through this shit.

“Jack, I’m so proud of you for going through with the plan to meet your family. I don’t know if I could do it. It’s very brave of you, and you know how it pains me to say that.” Luanne lowered the visor and checked her hair in the rearview mirror.

Damn it. What was he supposed to do now? No way could he turn tail and run now that she’d said that. He tried to laugh it off, but was pretty sure he sounded like a donkey in severe pain. “Um, thanks.”

His fingers flexed around the steering wheel and the tension from his hands crept up his arms as he followed the winding country lane. The headlights cast an ominous glow, illuminating big trees on either side of the road. It looked like the climactic scene of every B-movie slasher film he’d ever watched. The one where the hero and heroine march to their doom. The irony wasn’t lost on him.

What was he doing here? This was a harebrained idea, based on a letter from a total stranger, about an anonymous father he never knew existed. This was the most out-of-control stunt he’d pulled since he and his high school buddies streaked naked down Main Street at three in the morning.

“You okay, Jack?” Luanne shifted in her seat to face him.

He couldn’t lie to her concerned face, so he focused on the road and pulled to a stop at the end of the drive. He rested his forearms on the steering wheel and let his hands drape over the top. “Not really. I don’t think I can do it, Lou.”

She rubbed little circles on his shoulder. “You can, I know you can.”

When he couldn’t stand it anymore he turned to her. Her little gasp proved he wasn’t hiding his emotions very well at all. “I know I can do it. But why am I doing it? Seriously, a letter from the partner of a man I don’t know who, allegedly, is my biological father. This man probably wouldn’t recognize me if I walked up and slapped him. And his family? I’m pulling up to their house at eight o’clock at night to what? Say hi?”

“It sounded like they knew about you, so it probably won’t be a huge surprise. But it’s up to you. If you can’t handle it, then you can tell me.”

The silence in the car pressed in on them. He knew what she was doing, daring him, putting him on the spot to make him squirm. She also knew he wouldn’t back down from a challenge. Damn her. He couldn’t decide whether to kiss her or kick her out of the car. “No, we’re going in, but let me do the talking. They’ll probably have no idea who I am.”

“Alright. If you’re sure.” She wiped a hand over her mouth, no doubt trying to hide her victorious grin.

Whatever.

They’d come this far—what was another twenty feet? He unfolded his long body from the car and smoothed back his hair while he surveyed the property. It looked like a typical country house—two stories, with steepled windows and a big wraparound porch. He noticed some outbuildings to the side of the house, but they were hard to see in the dark. A cat rose and stretched on the front steps of the house. The rhythmic hooting of a nearby owl matched the thrumming of his heart. What would he find on the other side of that door?

“Man, it’s downright chilly out here. It’s got to be thirty degrees cooler here than at home.”

He tore his gaze from the front of the house to look at her. “What?”

“Nothing. I was trying to distract you. It obviously didn’t work, sorry.” She took his hand and squeezed it. “I’m with you, Jack.”

He squeezed back. “Alright, Thumbelina. Let’s do this thing.”

They climbed the steps together. The musky, sweet smell of the flower bushes lining the porch did nothing to calm his nerves. The cat ran for cover under the stairs. All the while she never let go of his hand. It wasn’t a couple kind of thing or sexual in any way, it was purely for moral support. He almost laughed. Of all the people he’d expect to have his back in this situation, Luanne Price wasn’t even on the list. But here she was, ready to go to battle with, and for, him.

The old screen door squeaked when she opened it. He took a big breath—now or never—and knocked. A feminine voice scolded the yapping dog from the other side of the door, then a tall, dark-haired woman with the same dimple in her chin and the same brown eyes as his opened the door.

“Hello, you don’t know me, but—”

“Jack.” Her hand went to her chest. “Mama, come quick. Jack’s here.”

If Luanne hadn’t been standing slightly behind him he would’ve fallen.

From somewhere in the house another female said, “Jack? Jack Avery is here?”

“Yes, Mama, and he is a sight to behold.” The lady at the door beamed at him.

An older woman with a long gray braid came to the door and before Jack could speak she threw herself at him. Her arms went around his waist and she pressed her face to his chest. “Oh, my word, boy, you are a sight. I knew the good Lord would bring you to us one day, I just knew it.”

If these people had opened the door naked and juggling pigs he wouldn’t have been more flummoxed. How had they recognized him? Where had they ever seen him before?

“Mama, let the boy in the house,” the younger woman said.

She stepped back and wiped tears from her face with the sleeve of her housedress. “Where are my manners? Come in, come in.”

They stepped out of the way so he and Luanne could cross the threshold. His partner in crime pulled him along, and he followed like a lost child. It was all he could do since his brain had short-circuited the minute mama started crying on his chest.

The living room was open, with hardwood floors, comfortable furniture, and smelled of fresh laundry.

“Sit, sit.” The younger woman removed a book and an afghan from the sofa. “Sorry, I was reading. Can I get you something to drink?”

He knew she was waiting for an answer, but he couldn’t form words. Thankfully, Luanne jumped in. “Sure. Some water?”

“Okay. I’ll be right back. Don’t start talking until I get back.”

What was his grandmother’s name? He’d seen it in the letter, but for the life of him he couldn’t remember what it was. He barely remembered his and Luanne’s name.

The younger woman came back into the room. “Here you are.” She handed them the water and sat on the love seat with her mother.

They all stared at each other for several long minutes. Again, Luanne came to the rescue. “I’m Luanne Price.”

“Oh, my word. I’m Leslie, Jack’s aunt, and this is Mimi. Her real name’s Ruth, but everyone calls her Mimi, including her grandchildren.” She smiled at Jack.

He finally found his voice, but it sounded like it had been shot full of holes. “It’s nice to meet you both.”

“Well, it’s nice to finally meet you too,” Mimi said. She grabbed Leslie’s hand. “I can’t believe you’re actually sittin’ in my living room.”

Frankly, neither could he. Surreal didn’t even begin to cover this bizarre scene. How had they known him? It was time he got some answers. “Mimi, Leslie, how did you know—“

“Jack.” Luanne had walked over to a side table with photos on them.

“What?”

“Come here.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

He almost said no. Something about her tone made him want to run for the door. But he wasn’t a pussy and he needed to see what she was looking at.

The walk to Luanne was the longest of his life. Vertigo made it hard to stay upright when he got to her side and saw what she was seeing. It was his high school graduation picture. How? Why? Where had they gotten it?

He spun to the women, who were both crying. “Where did you get this?” Before they could answer he spotted the far wall, where there were three rows of photos, each row with six pictures. The first two rows were of children he’d never seen before, but the first six years of his life hung in the last row.

His hands went to his hips and he stared at the pictures. He turned back to his grandmother and aunt. “Ladies, I don’t mean to be rude, but somebody needs to tell me what the hell is going on.”

“Jack, we need—”

He put his hand up to silence her. “I need some answers, Luanne. My face is plastered all over the goddamned walls.”

“Jack.” Luanne’s tone was reprimanding.

The women glanced at each other, and Mimi nodded.

Leslie came to stand by him. “Your mother sent the photos to your father, and he shared them with us. I guess we didn’t think about how shocking this would be for you. I’m sorry.”

He waved off her apology as he examined the room and saw his whole life played out before him. “Why?”

Leslie put her hand on his shoulder. “Why what, Jack?”

“Why…” He swallowed. “Why all the secrecy? Why don’t I know him? Why don’t I know you?”

“Come sit down, boy,” Mimi said. “Leslie, get the good whiskey. This talk calls for more than water.”

Luanne was back at his side and holding his hand. “I got you,” she whispered, and led him back to the sofa.

Leslie came back from the kitchen with four glasses and a bottle of Maker’s Mark whiskey. She poured them all two fingers and passed the drinks around. Once she’d reclaimed her spot next to Mimi the older woman began to speak.

“I want you to know that I’m only telling you this because I got your daddy’s permission if you ever came calling. I don’t talk out of turn, even about my own children.”

“Is he…is he…dead?” The way she was talking he couldn’t tell, and he needed to know.

Leslie’s hand flew to her mouth, and Mimi shook her head. “No. He’s been very sick, but thank the good Lord, he’s doing better.”

“Okay. Good.” Jack let the burn of the whiskey ground him in the moment.

“Mitch was always a sweet, gentle boy, and he grew into a kind and gentle man. Lord, he was handsome. Every girl in his high school was after him. We were livin’ in Louisiana back then and that’s where he met your mama. She was the prettiest little thing, we all loved her, including Mitch, and she was crazy about him. Lookin’ back I think Mitch was tryin’ so hard to fit in, to do the right thing, and to be who we all expected him to be.” She sipped her drink, then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand holding the glass. “So, he and your mama got engaged. We were so excited. Your mama…well. You know how special she was.”

“Yes, ma’am. She was something.” The knot of emotion filling his chest made it hard to get the words out of his throat.

“Anyway, as we started to plan the wedding I could see Mitch become more and more withdrawn, and so did your mama. Finally, I cornered him and made him tell me what was the matter. Looking back, when he told me he was gay I don’t think I was surprised. And I’ll tell you something else, I love my son, and I don’t care if he loves men, women, or little blue aliens. He’s mine, end of story.”

Leslie snaked her arm around Mimi’s shoulder and squeezed. “You’re like that with all of your kids, Mom. That’s what makes you so incredible.”

Mimi swiped a lone tear from her round cheek. “I hated it for Robin. She did love your daddy somethin’ powerful. But I’m the one who told him that he owed it to that sweet girl to tell her the truth and to not marry her. She would’ve come to hate him, and she deserved someone who could give her everything, and my Mitch wasn’t that person.”

She sipped her whiskey and then stared into the glass. “When she told him she was pregnant, it was the saddest day of their lives.” Her head jerked up and she looked into Jack’s eyes. “Not because they weren’t happy about you, but because they knew they wouldn’t be able to raise you together.”

“Mitch said he would marry her anyway, but she said no, and it was the right decision. Within a month, she’d married Ray Avery. Ray always had a thing for Robin, and they even dated a few months when she and Mitch broke up the summer before she got pregnant. Mitch wanted to be a part of your life, but he knew how hard it would be for you. He didn’t want to put that on you, and neither did Robin.”

Jack sat forward and rested his arms on his knees. “So she sent him pictures of me every year?”

“Yes, along with a letter of what you were doing. He lived for those letters and pictures. They made him happier than anything else in the world, but they also made him sad. He’d be lower than a snake’s belly for a month after they arrived.”

He didn’t know what to say to that. This whole situation was the last thing he’d expected. He’d thought he could waltz in here, charm his way around these people, and get the answers he wanted. Not to be met at the door with all of…this, and to be stripped bare in front of these strangers. He had to find his equilibrium, now.

He pulled on the casual mask he wore most of the time, but somehow it felt all wrong. Didn’t matter. He would walk out of here and no one would know how devastated he was by these revelations. “Ladies, you’ve given me a lot to think about. Do you mind if we table this discussion until tomorrow? We’ve come a long way, and we still have to find a place to stay tonight.” He rose to leave.

Mimi stood too. “Sit yourself down, Jack Avery. You’re not staying anywhere but here tonight.”

“We couldn’t possibly impose.” He would not sleep here. He would not sleep here. He would not—”

“We’d love to,” Luanne piped up.

What had the woman done? He squeezed her hand, but not in a thanks for helping kind of way, more like a sleep with one eye open way.

“Good. Come on Leslie, let’s get their rooms ready.”

“Room.” He slipped his arm around Luanne and looked adoringly into her stunned face. “I can’t spend even one night away from my girl.” A sick satisfaction settled over him at being able to get her back so quickly.

Mimi looked like she might protest, but Leslie steered her from the room.

“What in the hell, Jack,” Luanne whisper yelled when the pair were gone.

He tightened his hold on her. “If I have to be miserable tonight, so do you, darlin’.” He bopped her on her nose.

She nearly slipped off the sofa trying to wriggle out of his hold. “Get off me. I can’t believe you.”

“I can’t believe you. How dare you accept an invitation to stay here? You were out of line. Besides, you said you were here for me.”

She jumped up and straightened her clothes. “I meant I was there for moral support, not to warm your bed. And didn’t you see Mimi’s face fall when you said we couldn’t impose? How are you, by the way?”

He rested his ankle on his knee and stretched his arm across the back of the sofa. He wouldn’t let her see the shit storm brewing inside him. “Right as rain.”

She shook her head. “Liar.”

“I can tell you all about it while we’re cuddled up together tonight.”

* * *

Luanne climbed the stairs to their room like a woman being led to the gallows, while Leslie pointed out more photos of Jack that lined the staircase. She’d done this to herself.

Suck it up, buttercup.

When would she stop trying to run other people’s lives? Hell, she couldn’t even run her own. What made her think she could run Jack’s?

Jack. What a jerk. She actually owed him, because if he hadn’t been so blasé about the whole situation she would’ve wanted to comfort him, and that was a recipe made for disaster. He had to be hurting. However, in true Jack fashion, he hid behind the devil-may-care attitude that was so fake and infuriating.

“Here you go.” They followed Leslie into the room. She looked between the two of them. “Do you all have luggage?”

Luanne felt, and probably looked, like a beggar standing there with her meager belongings in plastic bags. Why had she talked Jack out of buying the overnight bag to put their things in? Oh, yeah, she was scared of running out of money.

“Unfortunately, Leslie, we were robbed on our way here, so this is all we have.” Jack held up his own plastic bag.

Leslie’s delicate hand went to her chest. “Oh no, you poor things. You weren’t hurt were you?”

His warm arm went around Luanne’s waist. “No. We’re fine. Luanne tried to fight ’em off, but they still took my wallet and car.”

His fingers massaged her waist, sending quivers rippling all the way down to her toes. This crap had to stop. She spun out of his hold. “Somebody had to.”

Leslie laughed. “You two crack me up. This is the old master so there’s a bathroom through that door, and there’s also another bath down the hall. Mitch and Kyle built mom and me our own master suites on the bottom floor. The stairs are too much for Mom most days, and we all thought I should be close to her.” She walked to the door. “You have the second floor all to yourselves, so you can go crazy.” She winked at them before leaving them alone.

The silence was a living, breathing thing that stalked between them like a big cat up to no good. “I’ll take the bathroom at the end of the hall.” Luanne scurried out of the room. She hated when she scurried, and she’d done it more in the last week than she had in her whole life.

The hot water in the shower released the too-tight muscles in her shoulders. She and her common sense had a little talk, and with every minute that passed her defenses grew stronger.

I don’t have anything to worry about. Jack is his least attractive self when he’s playing Mr. Suave, and right now he’s going for Mr. Suave Universe.

His arrogance set off all of her triggers. She hated that side of him, or any man, because she’d been burned by it a few too many times. Memories of her father sauntering into Gigi’s house like he owned the whole place, acting like there wasn’t a thing wrong, like it hadn’t been three months since they saw him. Or like he hadn’t sold a piece of Gigi’s property because he needed extra capital for a business deal. Or like he hadn’t missed her graduation to go to Vegas with a potential business partner.

That was why, when he came back into her life nine months ago, begging for forgiveness and pledging to be the father he should’ve always been, she’d bought it hook, line, and fiancé.

The scrape of the shower rings on the metal rod echoed off the walls when she threw the shower curtain aside and stepped out. The bathroom could’ve been something off Scarlett’s ‘Dream Home’ Pinterest page. Tall ceilings, bead board wrapping the space, with creamy yellow paint covering the walls. The big, fluffy towels felt soft against her skin and smelled like lavender. This was a home, and a lot of love was woven in every room.

She pulled the tags from her new undies, sleep shirt and shorts. How slowly could one person dress for bed? The pep talk she’d given herself in the shower was a distant memory. Hopefully Jack would already be asleep when she returned to the bedroom.

He wasn’t.

He was sitting on the the love seat on the far side of the room, in a pair of athletic shorts, with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. The misery that poured off him was like a magnet. She made her way to him and ran the fingers of one hand through his damp, spiked hair.

He raised his head and pinned her with his tortured expression. Pain turned his beautiful eyes to pools of dark chocolate.

“Oh, Jack.”

“Lou. I…”

She gripped his shoulders and before she could talk herself out of it, she climbed into his lap. Damn the rational, self-preservation argument for staying away from this man. He’d been gutted tonight.

His big hands slid under her shirt and around to her back. “I need you.”

She ran her thumb over the dimple in his chin then took his face in her hands. “I know.”

He took her mouth in a crash of lips and tongue, kissing her like a man clinging to the side of a cliff. Desperate, anxious, and completely sure she could save him.

Panic tried to claw its way through the passion. She wasn’t the solution to his problems. She couldn’t save herself, let alone another person.

Air. She needed air.

When she broke the kiss to breathe, he kissed up the column of her neck to her ear. “You are the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

Passion kicked panic in the ass, and why wouldn’t it with the way he clung to her?

The noise she made was all about sex. Great sex. Sex with this man.

He chuckled and nipped her neck. “Listen to you.” His tongue lapped at her ear lobe right

before he bit down. “I want you too.”

“Are you going to talk me to death, counselor, or take me to bed?”

She closed her lids and let the rumble of his growl turn her desire into a throbbing need between her legs. With his big hands around her butt, nipping kisses on her neck, and rough licks on her hand that clung to his shoulder, she could barely think.

Wait.

Rough licks on her hand?

She opened her eyes and screamed, “Cat!” Before she knew it, she was across the room and leaning on the bed.

The confused look on his face almost made her laugh. But her heart was pounding too hard. Her hand shook as she pointed to the frightened feline who’d jumped to the windowsill. “There’s a cat. I don’t like cats.”

He turned and retrieved the scared kitty. “Hello, girl.” The cat curled into Jack’s chest. “Did that mean girl scare you? Take it from me, buddy, she’s all bark and no bite.”

She scowled, and he laughed.

“Why are you afraid of cats? They’re just cats. Are you allergic?”

“No.” She started to give him the laundry list of reasons she didn’t like the creatures and realized she didn’t actually have one of her own. “I have no idea.”

He looked more than confused. “Marcus doesn’t like cats.” She shrugged. “I guess I picked up his prejudice.”

Geez, she hated admitting that. But wasn’t that the first step in any recovery, admit you have a problem? And when it came to her father she had a serious problem. The same one all the women in her family had—desperation for his attention and approval.

“Do you want to pet her?”

Did she? The cat was sort of cute. She chewed her lip, because while she didn’t personally have anything against cats, she’d heard Marcus rail against them for years. So what? Just because he didn’t like them had nothing to do with her. His hold over her stopped right now. “Sure.”

Cautiously, tentatively, she stretched her hand toward the cat. The fur behind her ears was soft and warm. Purrs coming from the thing sounded like a tiny jet engine. “Her purring is so loud.”

“She likes you. That’s what they do when they’re content.”

A gorgeous man holding a cat was way more of a turn-on than she could’ve ever guessed. “She’s probably content because you’re holding her against your naked chest. It’s a spectacular chest. Isn’t that right, girl?”

The immediate change in his demeanor was palpable. His hot stare devoured any control she’d gained from jumping away. Damn. She wanted to purr too when she let her gaze travel from his face down those sculpted abs to the obvious bulge still tenting his shorts.

An insistent knock on the door interrupted their eye foreplay. “Jack? Luanne? I’m sorry to bother you.” It was Leslie. “But you haven’t seen my cat, have you?”

Luanne dropped her head with a sigh and went to open the door. Was she grateful for the reprieve or not? “Yes, Leslie, the little hussy has attached herself to Jack’s chest.”

“There you are. You bad girl.” She took the cat from Jack, who’d strategically placed a throw pillow over his groin. “Tallulah, I thought you’d gotten outside.” She buried her face in the feline’s fur. Pretty pink stains bloomed on her cheeks when she gave Luanne and Jack her attention. “Sorry, my husband gave her to me before he was deployed the last time.”

Jack leaned against the footboard of the bed. “Is he…”

A sad smile ghosted across her face. “He didn’t make it back. That was five years ago. He was career military. Anyway, our kids were out of the house, living their lives, and he didn’t want me to be alone, so he gave me Tallulah. And now I can’t sleep without her in the bed with me.” She smoothed her long black hair from her face. “Silly, really, but…” She shook her head. “I’ll let you all get some sleep now.”

The click of the door rang through the quiet room like a gunshot. What was supposed to happen now? Luanne glanced at the bed then to Jack. He was impossible to read, but she thought she saw the same uncertainty in his expression that was knocking inside her.

“I’m—”

“We—”

They started at the same time.

He held his hand out to her. “You first.”

Thank God for that little feline furball, for keeping her from making a big mistake. “I’m going to sleep on the love seat.” She slid a fuzzy blanket from the foot of the bed and headed for the small sofa.

“No. I’ll sleep there. You take the bed.”

Echoes of his touch still rang through her body, and sexual tension still crackled between them. She had to break it or crawl back into his lap. She made a production of eyeing his long, tall body and then the love seat, then raised a brow.

He chuckled. “Point made. I’ll take the bed.”

She noticed that they both ignored the pink, panting, horny elephant in the room. Nothing had changed between them. He was still Jack, and she was still Luanne, and they were both in emotional crisis. That was definitely not the time to make life-altering decisions. All she knew was that she liked this man. Really liked him. But that wasn’t a good enough reason to have sex.

Sigh.

She was so freaking confused.

He climbed into bed, while she nestled into the couch.

He flicked the light off and the silence was ear piercing. “I’m sorry, Luanne. That won’t happen again.”

“It won’t?” She squeezed the words past the dry glob of regret caught in her throat.

“Well, actually, I hope it will happen again, but not like that. I won’t be another person who uses you, Luanne. You deserve so much more than that.”

“Oh.” What else could she say? The confusion swirling around her heart intensified into a tornado. No one had ever worried about her feelings.

“Good night, trouble.”

“Night.”

He was wrong, so very wrong. She wasn’t trouble. He was.