Jack attributed the sickness in his gut to the number of cherry suckers he’d eaten and not the fact that he’d be dropping Luanne off at her house in a few blocks. He had no idea why he wanted to keep her around, but something about her sad expression when she spoke of her father got to him. There was definitely more to that story than she was telling, and for some unknown reason he wanted to know it all.

Stupid.

He had his own father issues to deal with. A difficult discussion about his dad’s drinking was one of the reasons for this trip home. He understood the man was grieving, but judging by the last few phone calls, it was getting worse. And his mother would never forgive him if he didn’t try to intervene.

His father could hold a grudge. So if he didn’t handle the situation perfectly, they might end up not speaking until his dad got over it. Not for the first time, he wished he could talk to his mother. Grief stole his breath and yanked at his limbs like a drowning man in a riptide. It was like that—one minute he’d be fine, and the next, the quicksand of sorrow would suck him under.

Luanne cleared her throat. “Jack, I…ah…”

He yanked himself out of his misery and focused on her. “Yeah?”

“I want to thank you for helping me.”

“That tasted pretty bad, huh?”

She laughed. “Horrible. I hope I never have to do it again.”

He glanced at his watch once more. He was still okay on time.

“Are you taking medication?”

“What?” Jack gave her a confused look.

She pointed at his hand resting on the steering wheel. “That’s the second time you’ve checked your watch in the last twenty minutes.”

“Oh. No, I need to get home to Louisiana by seven.”

Her dress made a ruffling sound when she turned in her seat to face him. “You’re from Louisiana?”

“Yeah.”

“Really?” He voice was high and incredulous.

“Yes, Luanne. I think I know where I grew up.”

“Weird. You don’t have an accent.”

“No. I don’t. You don’t get taken very seriously in my business if you sound like a broke-ass, swamp-dwelling, backwoods Cajun when you walk into a meeting.”

She made a disgusted sound in the back of her throat. “Guess you’re not very proud of where you come from.”

“That’s not it at all.”

“Okay.”

“It’s not.”

“I believe you.”

He could tell she didn’t believe him. He had put more bitterness into that statement than he’d intended. “Anyway, the Beauchamp, Louisiana School Board is honoring my mother at their yearly banquet.”

“That’s nice. Is she a teacher?”

“She should’ve been, but no. She managed the elementary school cafeteria for twenty-five years. After she retired, she volunteered by tutoring kids with reading issues. She passed away six months ago.”

Her hand went to her chest. “I’m sorry, Jack. I didn’t know.”

He shrugged. “It’s fine. I don’t talk about it. But you see why it’s important I be there.”

“Absolutely. How far of a drive is it?”

“Three hours. I was wondering…and I hope you don’t mind, but would you g—”

“Oh, no, Jack.”

“I didn’t ask anything yet.”

“I know, but you can’t possibly think it’s a good idea for me to ride to Louisiana with you. We’d kill each other.”

“That’s not what I was going to ask you.” Oh, this was priceless. He followed the path of crimson as it crept into her cheeks.

“You weren’t?”

“No. Why would I ask you to go home with me?”

She adjusted the air vent to blow on her pretty pink face. “I don’t know.”

“I was going to ask you to give me a call when you get settled.”

“Well, why didn’t you just say so? Why all the I was wondering and I hope you don’t mind buildup?”

“Because I knew you’d give me crap about asking you to call. I don’t know if you’re aware, but you can be difficult sometimes.”

“Difficult? I’m not difficult and I’ll prove it.” She plastered on a pleasant expression. It appeared to take a gigantic effort, but she did it. “Of course I’ll call. Thank you for your concern.”

“I’d appreciate it.” He turned onto her street. “So, what are your plans?”

“I need to get home, grab some clothes, my phone, and my wallet.”

He looked her up and down. “Do you have your keys stashed away in that dress somewhere?”

“Funny.” She yanked the bodice of the dress back into place. “I keep one hidden on the porch.”

“What are you going to do about a car?”

She went back to playing with the eyelashes in her hand. “I’ll have Charlie Riggs bring me a rental car from his shop.”

“Doesn’t he own the feed store?”

“Yes, but he also has rental cars.”

“Makes perfect sense. Why is your phone and wallet at your house?”

“I didn’t want to have to keep up with all of my stuff today, so we left our bags at my house. We were going to grab them on the way to the airport.” An evil smirk eased across her face. “I guess I’ll have to leave Doug’s things on the lawn, outside his suitcase, ripped to shreds, and on fire.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “You scare me sometimes, Thumbelina.”

“Be afraid, Jack. Be very afraid.”

* * *

“Who’s that?” Jack asked, slowing the car.

“What? Oh, that’s Tank, my dad’s assistant.” Luanne gathered her voluminous skirts and prepared to exit the car. “He does everything for my dad but wipe his ass. Come to think of it, he may do that too.” Jealousy over this meathead’s relationship with her father pinched and poked her heart. She was pathetic. What was next? Insane inferiority over the checkout lady at the Piggly Wiggly because her dad told the woman to have a nice day?

“Why is he here?”

“I don’t know. Maybe my dad forgot something at the house, and Tank came by to get it.”

“Does he have a key?”

“No.”

“Then why would he be here? You’re supposed to be twenty miles away getting married.”

“I don’t know. I’m sure he has a good reason.” She pointed toward the curb. “You can let me out in front of the house.”

“I don’t like it.”

“You don’t like what?”

“That your dad’s goon is here waiting on you.”

“Goon? You’re paranoid. I’ve known Tank for years. Except for his murderously awful personality, he’s harmless.”

“Luanne, the guy’s as big as a brick shit-house. Why isn’t he playing in the NFL?”

“He could have,” she said in her best good ’ol boy accent. “He’s the best damn linebacker to ever play for Zachsville’s football team. Raider Pride!” She nearly choked on her spot-on impersonation. “Too bad he’s lazy and entitled, with zero ambition,” she added. “He got into some trouble at UT and expected it to be brushed under the rug. It wasn’t, and he had to come home. The Raider’s Booster Club was thrilled when he moved back. They believe Tank Thompson’s non-existent progeny are the future of Zachsville’s athletic program.”

“When did he go to work for your dad?”

“About a minute after he got back to Zachsville, where he’s gotten an education in assholery. He gets high marks in that, but then again, he learned from the best.”

“And I shouldn’t be worried?”

She waved off his concern. “No. He’s an asshole to everyone else. He mostly ignores me. I’m too small and scrawny to garner his attention. I’m not good breeding stock for the big man. Thank God.”

Jack stopped the car in front of her house. “Maybe I should stay until Charlie Riggs brings the rental.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You need to get on the road. I’ll be fine.”

She opened the door and glanced back over her shoulder. “Seriously, Jack, thank you. Be safe, and I hope they honor the hell out of your mom. She sounds like she deserves it.”

He never took his gaze from Tank, who was speaking into his phone. “Okay. You be safe, too.”

She watched the car crawl away from the curb. If Jack had pushed the vehicle it would’ve moved faster. “Sheesh. Men.” She hiked up her dress and headed toward her visitor. “Tank—”

“Luanne, you need to get into the car.”

“Why?”

“That was your father on the phone. He’s on his way to take you back to the wedding. He told me to hold you until he gets here.”

“Hold me? Is he crazy?”

One blond eyebrow crawled up Tank’s bullet forehead. “He is not.”

Would her father actually force her to marry Doug? Yes, she’d let him orchestrate this sham of a wedding, but seriously, wasn’t it obvious she didn’t want to get married anymore? “Well, I’m sorry to disappoint him, but I’m not going back.” She went to the flower pot where she kept her extra key. It wasn’t there.

“Looking for this?” Tank dangled the keyring from his finger.

Fury had her stomping toward him. “Give that to me, Tank Thompson.”

“What? This?” He swung the key out of her reach.

She fought the urge to jump and grab for it like a child. Instead, she held her hand out like the adult she was. “Yes. Give it back.”

“I don’t think so.” He walked to the curb and dropped the key down the storm drain.

Her brain couldn’t make sense of what she was going on. Her father was coming to drag her back to the wedding. She had no way to get into her house. And Tank might truly be dangerous. Panic began to inch its way around her chest. “You’re insane. I’m calling the police.” She took off toward her neighbor’s house to borrow their phone.

Two steps were as far as she got before a beefy pair of arms wrapped around her waist and lifted her off the ground.

“I guess you didn’t hear me.”

What the hell? “Put me down, you meathead.” She wriggled and kicked, but in Tank’s iron grip it had zero affect. This was a nightmare. She couldn’t see her father, she’d never been able to tell him no. If she went back she would end up Luanne Divan.

Tank swung her around like she weighed nothing and deposited her into the back seat of his Range Rover. He buckled her in, slammed the door, and locked it with the fob. The interior of the vehicle was like a sauna and made getting a deep breath difficult. Her cold, numb fingers fumbled with the seat belt. One click, and she was free, or so it seemed. But the child safety lock was engaged on both back doors. They wouldn’t open. A frustrated scream ripped from her throat, and she banged impotently on the window. Her anxiety ratcheted up with every step Tank took toward the driver’s door.

Just as he got to the front of the car a black streak knocked him to the ground.

Jack.

She fought to crawl into the front seat, but couldn’t get her dress out of the way. The smell of new car and stress sweat curdled her stomach. A cocktail of fear and adrenaline made her head swim, but determination not to be this meathead’s victim propelled her past those things.

Miles of lace and crinoline hampered her crawl over the console, not to mention the fight ensuing between the two men on the lawn. Her muscles strained for every inch of progress. Finally, she tumbled into the front seat and jumped out of the car.

Neither man seemed to notice. Jack sat on Tank’s chest, pummeling him with blows, but Tank deflected as many as Jack landed. The lawyer had him in height but the ex-linebacker was strong as an ox. Tank bucked, reared up, and threw Jack over his head.

The minute Tank gained his feet, he pulled a stun gun on Jack. A mother-lovin’ stun gun.

Ohmygodohmygodohmygod.

What was she going to do? She didn’t have her phone to call the police, and she wouldn’t leave Jack to run to the neighbors. Where were her damn nosey neighbors?

The two men were circling each other. Tank was saying something to Jack, but she couldn’t hear anything over the blood hammering in her ears.

She had to do something. Standing there like a helpless damsel and letting Jack get hurt wasn’t an option. There was no other choice. Time to put up or shut up. She yanked up her dress and made a running leap for Tank’s back, screaming like a wild woman. Her arms and legs went around him and she hung on for dear life.

For a second Jack stood still with his head cocked like he couldn’t actually believe what he was seeing. Tank spun around, trying to throw her like a bucking bull.

“Don’t just stand there. Do something!” Desperation was laced through her shriek. There was no way she would last for a full eight-second ride.

Her would-be rescuer kicked out and knocked the stun gun from Tank’s hand while the bigger man thrashed around trying to dislodge her. He got tangled in the fabric of her enormous dress, and they both went crashing to the ground.

Her moment of heroism had passed. A blur of grass and dirt came at her face, and fear froze her heart. Time to get away from her father’s goon. With the forward momentum of the fall, she rolled out of the combat zone.

Jack coldcocked Tank with a right cross. Luanne was stunned as the ex-football player’s eyes rolled back in his head and he went limp.

“Is he dead?”

“No. I only knocked him out. Holy shit.” Jack flicked his hand up and down and flexed his fingers. “Let’s get out of here.” He reached down and grabbed Tank’s car keys.

He tried to take her hand, but she shook him off. All she could do was stare at Tank’s motionless form.

This loser tried to kidnap her.

He’d put his hands on her.

He’d threatened her, and now he would pay.

She marched to where the stun gun lay on the ground. In one move she picked it up and flicked it on.

“Luanne?”

She ignored Jack. This was between her and Tank.

“Luanne. You don’t—”

“Shut up, Jack.” She marched over to Tank, placed the weapon to his crotch and pulled the trigger. Tank groaned and curled into the fetal position. “Don’t ever put your hands on me again, you scumbag.” She dropped the stun gun, stepped over him, and calmly walked past Jack toward his car. “Jack, I’m gonna need a ride out of town.”

“Ooookay.”

Once she’d crammed her body and dress in the car, she glanced at Jack. He stared at her from the driver’s seat with some emotion she didn’t have the energy to decipher. She pushed her hair from her sweaty forehead. “What?”

He chuckled and shook his head, jammed the key in the ignition and slammed his foot on the accelerator. “Like I said, sometimes you scare me, Thumbelina.”