Southern Seduction (55 page)

Shock and awe were in full swing, and if there had been a live audience, gasps would have been overwhelming in the playback.

Zoey and Hannah’s heads both whipped in my direction, all respect for the Mayor forgotten at this point.

I widened my eyes and shrugged infinitesimally because, shit, I didn’t know that the man my father had spoken so fondly of was the fucking
Mayor
.

How interesting. And really fucking convenient.

Seriously, how lucky that I had told him to reach out. And that he had
listened
.

Turning back to the man in charge, Zoey attempted to make our way back into the land of good graces. “Thank you, Sir-”

Only to be cut off by the Mayor’s zero tolerance bullshit policy.

“Save it.”

“Yes, Sir,” Zoey nodded, a teeny tiny smirk, bringing out the cute little star at the corner of her eye.

“You want know what we did on our prank night, all those years ago?” he asked me directly, which led me to believe the “we” included my dad.

I didn’t really have an answer, and the girls had decided to defer to me, so we just nodded our affirmation. A cute little line of bobbled heads.

It was a little sad to be reduced to this and still claim to be a man, but sometimes the hardest thing to do is lose the tough exterior.

“Me and Robbie, we got one of those detachable police lights, drove just outside of town, and pretended to pull people over. You wanna talk about stupid. Now
that
was stupid.”

Um, yeah it was.

Fuck. I was seriously having trouble rationalizing the Robbie he was talking about with the Rob Laughlin that I knew.

I guess he really had been a different man.

“The point is, pretty much all people have to be taught lessons at one point or another, kids. The difference is between the people who learn them and the people who don’t. Be the ones who learn.”

We all nodded in unison again, our skill set obviously becoming substantially limited when faced with an unprecedented situation.

“Now get the fuck out of my house.”

We scurried like rats in the sewer, scrambling off of the couch and looking furiously between the door and the window.

“Use the door,” he commanded. And we obeyed quickly, keeping our eyes straight ahead and moving in a single fine line led by yours truly.

I briefly considered turning around and apologizing, but honestly, that would probably just serve to piss Mayor Klein off.

As soon as we cleared the door, I turned my attention to Zoey, expecting to straighten things out between us, or at the very least, get yelled at. But she apparently had other items on her to do list.

“Where is that little weasel?”

“Huh?” I asked, as I followed her quickly off the steps, watching her case the yard looking for her target as we went.

It wasn’t long before she took off running, tackling somebody to the ground just passed an alcove of trees at the end of the driveway.

Fuck
.

Would the antics of tonight never end?

“I had just started to respect you, you little piss ant,” she whisper-yelled at the kid she was on top of. After closer inspection, I identified him as Seth Trammel.

“What?!” Seth asked from his place underneath her. I’m sure he was enjoying being between her legs with a view of her tits, but there was no way I was getting involved in this one. I was already in the dog house.

“You couldn’t man up and join the rest of us inside?” Zoey demanded hotly.

“I figured Hannah was covered. No way Miller would let anything happen to either of you. You saw the way he jumped inside the house to protect her when he thought she was you.”

“Yeah, I did,” Zoey agreed before climbing off of him, grabbing a handful of his shirt, and forcing him to pick himself up off of the ground. “You and me, Seth. We’re going to be friends. You need someone like me around to teach you to be a man.”

“What do you know about being a man?” Seth asked incredulously, and if you asked me, unwisely.

Zoey’s hands shot out in unison and locked onto his nipples twisting and pulling in one of the worst purple nurples I’d ever witnessed.

Seth howled in pain and dropped to his knees, his opinion on Zoey’s authority on manhood no doubt pulling a 180.

The sympathy pains I felt made me move my hands to my chest, but it wasn’t enough to stop the ill-timed chuckle from escaping the confines of my throat.

Zoey’s hair whipped around in an arc and her eyes locked on mine with a fiery menace that was so damn hot, I almost came in my pants.

In that moment I knew, Seth was just the warm up.

And she was coming for me next.

Zoey and I walked in silence the whole way to my truck.

For me, I was gathering my words, preparing an apology that I thought would be worthy of my fuck ups.

For her, I didn’t know what it was about. I didn’t know if she had forgiven me or if she was plotting my murder.

I figured it probably wasn’t murder, since we had just gotten done getting our speech from Mayor Klein, but I had really screwed up. Maybe she was thinking it was worth the jail time.

Especially after what she did to Seth. I figured whatever she had planned for me was at least two times worse.

When we stopped at the door on the passenger side, I knew it was time to fall on my sword.

“Zoey-” I started, just in time to be cut off.

“You don’t give a person very much time to think, you know that?” she accused rightfully. “I decided not to be a complete moron way before you gave me credit for.”

Yeah, as if it wasn’t bad enough that I had undercut her choices, overreacted, and behaved like a complete child, I also completely underestimated her, believing she had succumbed to the absolute worst case scenario until I was very dramatically proven wrong.

“You’re right,” I agreed, reaching out for her hand and pulling her body into mine. “I was a real douche. You can punch me in the junk if you want to.”

She considered it briefly, but in the end, she gave me a reprieve. “I don’t want to punch you in your junk.”

I breathed an audible sigh of relief.

“The throat, maybe,” she clarified with a jaunty tilt of her head, her smile pulling her supple lips up easily.

“All I can ask is that you give me a chance, Zo.”

She studied me long enough that I cracked, pleading, “Just one more chance. One last night to turn it all around.”

“Don’t worry, Mill. I know you’re a man because I saw your dick for myself. That alone means you’re going to make mistakes.”

“Yeah, you’re right. But I promise, I learn my lessons.”

My back slammed against the truck with the force of her assault, her lips crushing against mine, tying us together, and making my wish come true like a lucky penny.

She was going to give us a chance, and that was all I could ask for.

“You better tell Penelope you’re taken,” she said in between kisses, moving her mouth lower to work the column of my throat.

As she pulled away I told her, “I’m pretty sure she’s going to be pissed. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. Or in this case, starved.”

“That same thing applies to human females,” she explained, leaning into me and poking a slim finger into my chest.

“Come feed them with me? Tell her you’re going to be around?” I begged anxiously, willing my time with her to keep going.

She quirked her lips to one side, pretending to think it over for several seconds, the toe of her boot tapping in time with her, “Hmm.”

“Okay. But only if I get to tip her if she starts giving me attitude.”

She’d never pull it off on her own, but if it kept Zoey around, I’d tip Penelope myself.

“Deal.”

The End

A huge thanks to my mom for reading and giving me feedback during the process. She’s my number one fan, always, and I feel the same way right back.

Thanks to all of the other authors in this set, the other girls of IRAC, my Oreos, and everyone else who lends a listening ear or a supportive shoulder. I could name SO many people, but I’m absolutely certain I would forget someone and I have a limited amount of space.

Likewise, I want to thank all of the blogs out there. The ones that support me regularly and the ones who have yet to discover my work. Bloggers work so hard, and most of us authors would be nothing without them.

The readers. You guys really rock my world. Romance readers are loyal, supportive, enthusiastic, and the most fun, vivacious group of people I’ve ever experienced. I’m honored that you take the time to read my books. Thank you.

Lastly, my husband and son. They sacrifice the most and offer constant support. I love you.

“Ryder, do you have any questions?”

I gape at my Uncle Zeke in a sort of shocked horror. Do I have any
questions
? He might as well just have asked me if moonshine will knock you on your ass. Fuck yeah I have questions! It’s a struggle to stay calm, and I am literally forcing myself not to start yellin’.

When I was two, my parents died in an accident coming home from a church social. From that moment on, my granddaddy raised me, and I cannot believe the man who taught me everything that I know about life has thrown me under the wheels of a bus like this.

“Yeah, actually, I have a few. How is it even
legal
that granddaddy thought it was okay to put a stipulation in his will stating that if I don’t get married within sixty days of his death, the
family
ranch will be sold to the highest bidder?”

My granddaddy’s lawyer—and my honorary uncle—Zeke Bartholomew, shakes his head at me as if my questions are somehow disappointing. “Son, I assure you, it’s legal. Your granddaddy was just makin’ sure that you had a family once he was gone. He wanted you to have the love of a good woman.”

Throwing my hands in the air in a gesture of disgust I snap, “Jesus Christ—if
that
was the issue, then why didn’t he just leave me a membership to e-harmony? He knew damn well that I have no desire to get married anymore. Can anyone really goddamn blame me after everything that happened? For God’s sake, I’d rather run through town with my balls out than get into a relationship! This is goddamn crazy!”

Smacking his withered hand down onto the scarred wood of his desk, Uncle Zeke gives me a stern look. “Now you listen to me, boy—I will
not
tolerate disrespect. Just because I’m older’n dirt doesn’t mean I can’t take you. If you take the Lord’s good name in vain one more time, you’ll be stuffed and mounted on my wall.”