Читать книгу The Family Feud: The Family Feud / Stop The Wedding?! - Carol Finch, Carol Finch - Страница 13

KENDRA’S TORMENTED MOAN prompted Jan to lurch toward her sister, though her body was still humming with sensual awareness. Good gracious! The impact Morgan had on her at sixteen was a drop in the proverbial bucket compared to the potent effect he’d had on her tonight. Their first kiss had been branded in her memory a decade ago, but it had been superimposed by tonight’s mind-scrambling, body-sizzling, knock-you-off-your-feet kisses and caresses. For certain, what that man did to a woman’s senses was worse than a drug overdose. It should be declared illegal in all fifty states!

Willfully, Jan tried to stop quivering like a tuning fork and focus absolute attention on Kendra who was struggling to gain her feet and moaning in nauseated torment. Janna grabbed hold of her sister and steered her toward the bathroom.

It was a long night that granted Jan only fits and starts of sleep. But she was there each time Kendra needed her, soothing her, consoling her. If this was Kendra’s method of purging Richard Samson’s memory and his betrayal it should be effective. She’d cursed Richard soundly and consigned him to hell with each agonized breath.

Bleary-eyed, Jan awoke and glanced at the digital clock. As near as she could figure she’d gotten a whopping two hours’ sleep. Kendra was still oblivious to the world so Jan made use of the shower and tried to clear the fuzzy cobwebs from her brain. Jan glanced around Kendra’s room, recalling that her suitcase and car were still at Morgan’s place. The thought of going commando was a little unsettling, but Jan wasn’t about to borrow anything more than a blouse from her sister. For certain, she couldn’t wear her own beer-stained shirt.

Quickly, Jan rummaged through Kendra’s over-stuffed closet. She slipped on a black knit blouse and tiptoed from the darkened room. Since Kendra’s apartment was only two blocks from Main Street, Jan hiked off, hoping the walk would invigorate her. She needed coffee—intravenously would be best. But she’d settle for a cup from the Peanut Gallery Café.

Janna walked into the busy restaurant and men’s heads turned in synchronized rhythm as she ambled to the counter. Did she have her shirt on backward, or what? Why were men staring openly at her? Must be her wild hairdo, she decided as she slid onto the tall stool. Those untamable chestnut curls were probably in a wild tangle after her morning walk.

“Hey, Janna. Heard you were back in town.”

Jan glanced up and smiled at Shirley Knott, the waitress. “Hi, Shirley, could I have a cup of coffee, please?”

“Black or blond and sweet?” Shirley asked as she champed on her chewing gum, and then fluffed her puffy platinum hair.

“Definitely doctored,” Jan requested.

Shirley grabbed a cup and picked up the steaming pot. “So…how are you coming with that rift between your folks?” Snap, pop.

“Just getting started on the project,” Jan replied.

Shirley smacked her gum and leaned her forearms on the counter. “Ask me, you need to grab them both by their shirt collars, drag them into the same room and knock their heads together a couple of times.”

Jan took a cautious sip, then smiled. “I’ll admit the idea holds certain appeal, but I was saving that for my last resort.”

Shirley nodded her dyed blond head pensively. “Yeah, I s’pose that’d be best. I gotta tell ya though, I was shocked down to my skivvies when I heard your folks split up. My gosh, they’ve been married forever.”

While Jan drank her coffee, Shirley commenced to explain—in detail—what went wrong with her marriage. From what Jan ascertained, reopening the lines of communication between her parents was essential. Shirley and her ex, it seemed, had relied heavily on shouting matches and juvenile retaliations.

Before Jan finished her second cup of coffee, two of her mother’s friends walked over to add their two cents’ worth. The female consensus was that, basically, men were insensitive, obtuse, unobservant idiots who required social and emotional training. The lists of improvements needed to bring the male of the species up to snuff went on—and on.

The threesome volunteered to teach Jan’s dad how not to behave like an imbecile when he was obviously wrong. They offered to instruct John on how to do his share of domestic chores and how to combat the stupidity of walking out on Sylvia, who’d been devoted, steadfast and loyal forever. Since John was one hundred percent at fault—according to the women—he should hightail it to Sylvia’s Boutique, throw himself at her feet and humbly beg forgiveness. Oh, and bringing a bouquet of flowers, along with a card that read “I’m so terribly sorry for being a fool,” wouldn’t hurt, either.

Jan exited the café, startled to find four men—who hadn’t given her a second glance in high school—trailing her. Why was she—who’d been the opposite of popular and pursued a decade ago—suddenly the center of attention? Probably because she was braless and pantiless and male radar picked up on that sort of thing. Regardless of the reason for the unwanted attention, Jan was escorted to the hardware store. What she wanted, instead, was time to gather her thoughts before encountering her father.

“WHAT THE DEVIL is going on with Janna?” John Mitchell questioned.

The comment drew the attention of Morgan and five customers. They strode to the window to join John. Morgan frowned disapprovingly when he noticed who was vying for Janna’s attention. Jealousy nipped at him like a rabid dog, but he restrained himself from marching across the yellow brick road to retrieve Janna. Word had obviously spread through Oz that Janna had transformed into a bombshell. Every skirt-chaser in peanut country had come to take a gander at her.

“What’s this all about?” John demanded of Morgan. “First I find her car parked at your house overnight and now this!”

When the customers flung Morgan speculative glances he wished John would’ve kept his yap shut. “Janna came by to see you last night, but you weren’t home. She drove Kendra’s car to the apartment.”

John muttered under his breath—something about his younger daughter going wild and the older one turning into a streetwalker. Morgan would’ve loudly objected, but his thoughts derailed when Janna wiggled and jiggled her way across the street. He couldn’t take his eyes off her chest to save his life. Neither, he noted, could the other men who’d pressed their faces against the window. With that flaming hair framing her pretty face and that trim-fitting blouse that hugged her unbound breasts like a lover’s caress, it was all Morgan could do not to groan aloud.

Damn, seeing her and wanting her were becoming synonymous. He had to get a grip before he embarrassed himself in front of John and the customers. Criminey, he’d been in a state of arousal most of the night—up to and including his erotic dreams that featured hers truly. The cold shower he’d taken this morning had lost its effectiveness and he was back to wanting her with what was fast becoming an irrational obsession.

The door chimed its musical refrain as Janna entered the hardware store. Morgan’s gaze dropped to her breasts and he clenched his teeth when he noticed the other men—John excluded—were looking their fill. Morgan wanted to clobber his customers. Two of them were married, damn it.

Janna nodded a quick greeting, then focused her attention on John. “Daddy, I’d like to talk to you in private.” Her gaze skittered briefly to Morgan. “Could we use your office?”

When John reluctantly followed Jan down the aisle, one unattached customer leered at the hypnotic swing of Janna’s hips. “Man, did she turn into one hot tamale.”

“Hubba, hubba,” bachelor number two purred.

“Shezam!” Bachelor number three all but drooled on himself.

“Knock it off, fellas,” Morgan snapped as unwarranted possessiveness roared through him and his traitorous gaze focused on her denim-clad fanny.

“I’d like to knock some of that off,” bachelor number two said rudely.

Infuriated, Morgan grabbed the man by the nape of his shirt and propelled him out the door. At the moment Morgan wasn’t proud to call himself a man because he didn’t want to be lumped in the same category with these disrespectful, heavy-breathing Neanderthals.

“You guys wanna buy something? Fine. If not, take a hike,” Morgan said discourteously. “On your way out the door, tell those other skirt-chasers across the street to get lost. I don’t want them standing around, panting on my doorstep and fogging up the windows.”

“Jeez, Morgan, don’t get your shorts in a tangle,” bachelor number one said, then snickered. “We’re only scoping out the attractive scenery. Looking at a gorgeous, well-built woman isn’t a federal offense.”

Morgan’s dark brows flattened over his narrowed eyes as his arm shot toward the door. “Scram. Janna Mitchell isn’t a sex object.”

“Couldn’t prove it by me,” bachelor number three said, smiling scampishly. “And since when did you turn into such a Goody Two-shoes?”

“Since I realized men degenerate into jackasses in the presence of beautiful women,” Morgan muttered.

“Yeah, but this one’s so hot she makes my—”

“Out!” Morgan snarled. “And don’t come back until you can keep your eyes in your head and your thoughts out of the gutter.”

“Sheesh, what a grouch,” bachelor number one said as he exited.

Morgan sighed audibly. What the hell was wrong with him? He had no claim on Janna, but every protective instinct he possessed—plus about a dozen he wasn’t aware he had—uncoiled inside him when his customers ogled and salivated over her. He was more than a little ashamed that he’d visually undressed her—which is probably why he’d taken out his frustration on his customers. He would’ve covered her with the shirt off his back if he hadn’t been so focused on the taut nipples that pressed seductively against her knit blouse. Muttering at himself, Morgan stalked off to rearrange the stock on the shelves, while Janna conferred with John.

JAN EASED a hip on the desk when her father plunked sullenly into the chair. “Dad, I know this must’ve been a difficult month for you. I know it was hard on Mom because she couldn’t get through the telling of her side of the feud without breaking down in tears. She really misses you.”

John snorted. “Not enough to tramp over here to apologize.”

Jan smiled faintly. “What things would you like her to apologize for?”

“For starters, she could admit that buying that blasted clothing store was a mistake of gigantic proportions,” he burst out resentfully.

“You don’t think Mom deserves the sense of accomplishment that comes from owning her own store?” she asked tactfully. “Did she begrudge your successful career as a teacher? Does she begrudge all the praise you receive from moonlighting as a carpenter?”

“No, but she certainly complained that I wasn’t home to help raise you girls while I was moonlighting to make extra money when we needed it,” John replied. “I couldn’t win for losing.”

Her dad was probably right on that count. Even so, he’d opened himself up for criticism. “By objecting to the time Mom spends at her store, you’re guilty of doing the same thing you claim she did.”

John flashed her a disgruntled frown. “Maybe so, but the situation is different now. We don’t have babies underfoot. We’re in our late fifties.”

Jan swallowed a smile. Her dad wasn’t dressed like he was over the hill. He was wearing another of his trendy shirts and slacks that were better suited for college students, not a man suffering a midlife crisis.

“This should be our time together. We should be seeing the world together, not chained to that damned dress shop,” John muttered sourly.

“Couldn’t you see the world from a car seat and stay at hotels?” she asked gently. “You could still sightsee to your heart’s content.”

John slammed his fist on the desk. “No, damn it. I knew you’d take her side. The Winnebago is my idea of a vacation!”

“And your idea of fun is dining with Georgina Price when you know you’re humiliating Mom to no end? How’d you like it if Mom was seeing someone and inspiring gossip and speculation?”

John stuck out his chin stubbornly. “Fine by me. Maybe she’ll entice her boyfriend instead of ignoring him the way she’s been ignoring me.”

Jan fought valiantly to prevent a blush from creeping into her cheeks. She was trying to tiptoe around the sexual aspect of her parents’ relationship. “Er…let’s bypass that issue and focus on other problems.”

“Why? Don’t you want to know she doesn’t find me desirable anymore? Why do you think I’ve dyed my hair and bought these flashy clothes? I thought it’d gain her notice. But, you know what she did?” he asked bitterly. “She laughed at me. Well, other women have taken notice!”

Georgina Price again, Jan mused. No doubt, the woman gushed compliments to attract John’s interest and he soaked it up like a sponge.

Jan leaned forward and got right in John’s face. “Dad, what’s the real reason for this second childhood and your desire to see the world?”

John opened his mouth, slammed it shut and then glared at her for a moment. “I don’t want to talk to you about this stuff. Morgan knows how I feel and why. He’s a man and he understands where I’m coming from.”

“I’m trying to understand so I can explain your needs to Mom,” Jan replied. “She’s embarrassed about the separation and she’s humiliated because you’re lollygagging with Georgina. Mom wants you to support her new career, not force her to give up her store.”

John shook his head—not a dyed hair moved. The shiny gel held it in place like superglue. “You’re too biased and I can’t discuss things openly with you because it makes you and me uncomfortable. Since your mother appointed you as her speakpiece I’m appointing Morgan as mine.”

“Dad—”

He held up his hand like a traffic cop. “Nope, I’ve made up my mind. You girls aren’t going to gang up on me anymore. You can talk to me about this separation through Morgan, or not at all and that’s final. And by the way,” he added. “I heard gossip that your sister went on a binge last night after she cancelled the wedding. Tell her to get her act together. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to earn my wages at the store.”

“But, Daddy—” Jan’s shoulders slumped in defeat as John marched from the office. Great, now she had to play he-said-she-said with Morgan. How was she supposed to concentrate on getting down to the basic issues that kept her parents apart when last night’s mind-boggling kiss was right there between them? Just seeing him this morning, looking sinfully handsome, got her hormones all riled up again.

When Jan exited the office, Morgan and John were deep in conversation. Jan figured her dad was informing Morgan that he’d been appointed negotiator for the male side of the Mitchell feud. And here Jan had decided it was best not to spend much time alone with Morgan, considering her volatile reaction to him the previous night. Well, scratch that. For the sake of her parents’ crumbling marriage she’d have to set aside her vulnerability to Morgan and focus on getting to the crux of the problems with her parents.

When Morgan ambled toward her, Jan battled the warm sensations that rippled through her and tamped down her desire. Her female hormones needed to take a chill pill, she decided irritably. She had a relationship to salvage and it demanded her absolute concentration. She wasn’t going gaga over Morgan again.

“So,” Morgan murmured, staring at the air over her left shoulder. “I’ve been informed that I’ve been appointed as John’s spokesman. Is that going to be a problem for you?”

“Not as big a problem as walking away and letting a divorce take place,” she replied. “Dad says…” Her voice trailed off when she noticed who’d entered the store. “Well, damn.”

Morgan glanced over his shoulder and frowned darkly. “Gee, I wonder who Richard wants to plead his indefensible case to Kendra?”

Richard plastered on a high-voltage smile and moved steadily toward Jan. “Janna…” His gaze dropped to her chest. “Whoa. Word around town is that you’ve changed drastically. That’s an understatement. You look—”

“Do you have a reason for being here?” Morgan cut in. “If so, state your purpose. Jan and I are in the middle of a discussion.”

“Yeah, okay.” Richard shifted awkwardly beneath Morgan’s hard stare. “I want Jan to talk to Kendra for me.” It was a command, not a request. “I dropped by to see her this morning. She looked like hell, by the way. I tried to talk to her, but she stormed out the door and told me she’s going to see that country bumpkin rancher she was dating when I—”

“When you beat his time?” Morgan supplied helpfully.

The suave, Nordic-godlike lawyer winced. “Well, I wouldn’t put it that way. But the point is Kendra went running to Evan Gray to punish me for something that didn’t mean a thing.”

Jan wanted to wallop Richard upside the head. “You could’ve talked all day without saying that,” she snapped.

“Well, it didn’t mean anything. I went a little crazy is all.”

“Easy for you to say after a reckless tumble in the hay,” Jan said through her teeth. “I wouldn’t be surprised to hear it wasn’t the first time.”

Richard had the decency—though not a lot of it, mind you—to blush sheepishly. “It’s Kendra I love and want to marry. That was just sex—”

When Jan pounced Morgan roped his arm around her waist and held her back. Damn if he didn’t admire her killer instinct. She went straight for the jugular. “You can’t kill him,” Morgan cautioned.

“Why not? He deserves to die!” Jan sputtered in outrage. She squirmed for release, but Morgan refused to let her go.

When Jan hissed and spat like an angry cat, Richard took a wary step backward. “Look, I know I made a mistake.”

“What? Getting caught in bed with your secretary? You can say that again, Richie,” Jan seethed. “Because of you, my sister was deathly ill all night. She’s been humiliated, and you want me to intercept her and talk to her before she falls into that ‘country bumpkin rancher’s’ clutches?”

“Well, yeah, I do,” Richard said, undaunted.

“So, it’s okay for you to have a premarital fling to sow your wild oats, but not Kendra?” Jan demanded hotly.

“Well, she’s a woman. Women aren’t supposed to—”

“Argh!” Jan, seeing red, launched herself forward, itching to claw out the man’s eyes, pickle them and hand them back to him in a hermetically sealed jar. Unfortunately, Morgan’s arms tightened around her like vise grips, leaving her clawing air.

“Richard, ol’ pal,” Morgan said calmly. “I advise you to skedaddle before I turn this little wildcat loose. As you can plainly see, she’s in attack mode, she’s got attitude and she’s ferociously protective of her family.”

“Just track down Kendra, okay?” Richard pleaded and retreated. “Make her talk to me so we can work this out, okay? Please? I love her.”

“You sure have a strange way of showing it,” Jan snarled. “Words are cheap and you betrayed her trust in the worst possible way. If you were my fiancé I’d have you castrated so you couldn’t cheat again—ever!”

She could feel Morgan’s massive body shaking in silent amusement, but still he wouldn’t release her. If he’d been there all through the night, while Jan listened to Kendra wretch, sob and wail, he wouldn’t think this was so damn funny.

Morgan didn’t set Jan on her feet until Richard scuttled through the door. Huffily, she rearranged her shirt that had twisted sideways while she squirmed and wriggled for release.

“That went well, didn’t it?” Morgan commented, swallowing a grin.

Jan skewered him with a glare. “You should’ve let me kill him.”

Morgan cupped her chin in his hand and stared into her bloodshot eyes. “How much sleep did you get last night?”

“Very damn little,” she muttered sourly.

“Breakfast?” he inquired.

“Two cups of coffee.”

Morgan nodded in pretended thoughtfulness. “I still don’t think we could’ve gotten you off a murder rap by pleading temporary insanity. Duress, insomnia, lack of nutrition and excessive caffeine probably wouldn’t hold up in court.”

Jan raked her hair from her face, sighed heavily and told herself to calm down. Morgan was right. She was weary and wired and just plain furious with Richard. Even so, she had to find Kendra before she repeated last night’s idiocy and rebounded to her former boyfriend—who, by the way, wasn’t a country bumpkin, not in Jan’s book, leastwise. Evan Gray might’ve been too old for Kendra and not nearly as handsome and sophisticated as Richard, but he’d been good to Kendra.

“May I borrow your truck to track down Kendra?” Jan asked. “I’d ask Dad, but he won’t talk to me unless I go through you.”

Morgan turned her around and guided her down the aisle. “We’ll both go. Your dad can mind the store.”

“No.” Jan put on the brakes, but Morgan uprooted her without breaking stride. “Really, Morgan, I can handle this. It’s my problem.”

“I told you last night that I’m making the Mitchells a study in family concept and interactions.”

“I don’t know why,” she mumbled as he swept her alongside him. “We’ve turned dysfunctional.”

“Regardless, I’m going along for the ride. It’s my pickup, after all. I don’t want you to run down Richard with it.” Morgan waved his arm to nab John’s attention. “I’ll be back before you leave for lunch.”

“You’re taking Janna with you? Good.” John smiled devilishly. “After lunch I’m going to test drive that flashy sports car I’ve had my eye on.”

Jan groaned. “Dad—”

“Clam up,” Morgan cut in. “He’s only baiting you so you’ll go running to Sylvia to tattle. Then she’ll be upset and the feud will fester.”

Jan swore she was near tears by the time she reached the pickup. Frustration was building inside her like molten lava, threatening to blow sky high. She needed a nutritious meal, a good night’s sleep…and a family that didn’t drive her nuts! If she had a nervous breakdown, they’d all be sorry. Who’d save them from themselves?

“I wanna go back to Tulsa,” she murmured as Morgan headed west.

“Wise idea,” he agreed. “Despite the hype, Oz isn’t the magical paradise we’d have tourists believe.”

Jan’s cell phone shrilled in her purse, contributing to the headache she felt intensifying behind her eyes. “Hello?”

“Jan, things are falling apart here,” Diane whined in a voice that reminded Jan of a mewling Siamese cat. “Nobody knows how to operate this new software program. They keep grilling me and you know I’m uncomfortable leading a meeting. I can’t do it!”

“Diane, just take a breath and calm down,” Jan ordered.

Morgan took his eyes off the road momentarily to toss her a grin that implied she shouldn’t be calling the kettle black after her little scene with Richard. Childishly, she stuck out her tongue at him. He chuckled.

“When are you coming home?” Diane wanted to know.

“I’m not sure. I have another crisis to resolve,” Jan reported.

“My gosh, boss, the company needs you. I need you. You have to come home. I’m not ready to command yet.”

“Of course, you are,” Jan encouraged as she massaged her pounding temples. The headache was increasing in intensity by the second. It felt as if elf-size carpenters were drilling holes in her skull. “You have the educational background and know-how. That’s why I hired you.”

“Well, you made a mistake. The staff keeps storming the office, firing off questions at me and interrupting each other. It’s so noisy I can’t think straight!” she yowled.

“Breathe, Diane,” Jan instructed. “Now listen very carefully. Don’t sit there making up excuses as to why you can’t handle the situation while I’m talking to you. Just listen to me. Are you listening with both ears?”

“Yes, boss,” Diane said dutifully.

Jan closed her eyes against the glaring sunlight that aggravated her headache and gave Diane the step-by-step procedure to follow, in hopes of pacifying the staff. When she finally convinced Diane that she could handle the situation, Jan disconnected and then slumped against the seat. Between her family and her assistant she felt emotionally and physically drained.

“So, maybe going back to Tulsa isn’t such a hot idea,” Morgan said.

Jan didn’t open her eyes. It took too much effort. “I’ve decided to fly off to a deserted island in the South Pacific. No forwarding address. No phone connection,” she whispered. “Nothing but uninterrupted silence.”

“I’ll help you pack.”

“I haven’t unpacked,” she reminded him, then pried open one eye to glance at him. “Now, if you’ll agree to marry my sister and adopt my parents, I’ll be indebted to you for life.”

Morgan gave his raven head a shake, then smiled. “Sorry, but Kendra isn’t my type and I already have an uncontrollable mother to deal with.”

“Not your type?” Jan scoffed. “Kendra is every man’s fantasy.”

“I’m not every man,” he clarified as he hung a left and drove down the graveled road. “I’ve gotten attached to a flame-haired fireball female who tells everybody else to calm down while she tries to take her sister’s unfaithful fiancé apart with her bare hands.”

“I wasn’t going to take Richard apart,” she corrected, lips twitching. “I was only going to jerk out his eyeballs and castrate him on the spot.”

“Oh, pardon me. My mistake…Janna?”

“Yes?” She sighed tiredly and squirmed to find a more comfortable position on the seat.

“About last night’s kiss, I—”

“I liked it,” she broke in. “It was the only good thing in an otherwise hellish day.” She glanced his way, wondering how he’d reacted to her honesty. Maybe she shouldn’t have admitted any such thing, but she was suddenly wishing there was one person in Oz that she could be truthful and open with. She was tired of playing mediator for her parents, watching what she said and how she said it. She just wanted to be herself for a few minutes before she had to psych herself up to deal with Kendra’s latest shenanigan.

“So, we’re square then?” Morgan asked. “No hard feelings—except on my part, obviously. No regrets on either side of that kiss?”

Jan chuckled at his off-color play on words. “No regrets, except that I didn’t listen when you warned me not to stay at Kendra’s because I wouldn’t get any sleep.”

He waited a beat and then, without taking his eyes off the road, he said so quietly that she had to strain her ears to hear him. “You probably wouldn’t have gotten much sleep at my place, either, despite your current status.”

Jan pondered the quiet comment during the drive to Evan Gray’s ranch. Why, she wondered, was he suggesting that she could experiment with sex at his place? Because she was convenient? Because she was a challenge to him? Because one-night flings were the norm for him?

She closed her eyes, massaged her aching temples and decided this wasn’t the time to puzzle out the answer to that question. She had a killer headache and a gone-wild sister to rescue—again. No sense borrowing trouble when she already had a truckload of it.