Billionaires Don't Like Nice Girls (A BWWM Romance) (25 page)

“Does that mean you won’t hold my hand anymore?”

“Yep.”

“You’re a hard woman, Phae Jones.”

“Don’t talk. Just concentrate on walking and not falling.”

They carefully picked their way through the woods. When they came to a clearing, she slid her hand from his grasp.

“Do you think your uncle found his keys yet?” Kent asked, stepping around a clump of rocks.

“I don’t know. Maybe. He had a flashlight.”

“Tell me about what you did tonight, Phae. I swear I won’t pass judgment,” he said with all the sincerity at his command.

“Okay, but one cheap shot and I’m gone. And that means you’ll have to find your own way home. Understand?”

Kent was growing weary of her threats and demands. The things a man had to do to get a woman these days. It was probably better back in the old days when you slung the woman you wanted onto your horse and rode off into the sunset.

He nearly laughed out loud when he thought of Phae, dressed in a frilly western dress, slung over his horse’s rump and cussing up blue streak, threatening to unman him the second they stopped galloping. That was his Phae all right.

And he liked it, dammit. He liked her, in fact. Maybe even more than liked. Probably.

“I won’t break my promise,” he said, “so get on with it.”

“Off to a good start already. But remember that I warned you.”

He didn’t respond.

“Okay. You asked for it. It’s a long story but I’ll try to keep it simple.”

“I think I can handle something complicated. I’m not stupid.”

“I didn’t mean it that way,” she said. “Damn. Touchy. Anyway, this all goes back to last year when we had a big flood.”

“Your uncle drinks because of a flood that happened last year?”

“Sort of,” she said. “Not really. Anyway, there’s a river, not much more than a creek actually, a small tributary, but it’s called a river, and it runs along the edge of Uncle Leon’s property. After the flood, the river changed course, and it moved about ten feet into Leon’s neighbor’s property.”

Kent stepped over a hole.

Phae clucked her tongue. “Be careful. Don’t twist an ankle. I can’t carry you out of here.”

He had another urge to pick her up and carry her off, but resisted it. “Why didn’t you stash your car tonight like last time?”

“I needed the exercise. You not up to a hike? I’m trying to take it easy on you.”

God, she was competitive. He grinned. “I’m fine, thank you very much.”

“So anyway,” Phae continued, “the river moving led to a feud between Leon and his neighbor, George Slinker. According to the original deeds, the property line between the two is determined to be the center of the river bed. It quickly turned into an ugly fight, mostly on George’s side. They’ve been in court multiple times and keep going back for more.”

“Who’s been winning in court?” Kent asked.

“Leon. The last judge told George that maybe he’d get lucky and one day another flood would give him back his ten feet and then some, but until then, he was shit out of luck.”

Kent grinned. “Did he actually say ‘shit out of luck?’”

“Yep.”

“I’d like to meet that judge.”

“Not in his courtroom, I promise you.”

“So what does the river and feuds have to do with Leon drinking?”

“That’s another long part of the story.” Phae sidestepped a large rock with agile grace that made Kent’s lower half clench.

“Well, it’s a long walk.”

“Okay. So Uncle Leon and Aunt Meg have been married like three years. It’s a second marriage for both of them, and they brought baggage with them. Uncle Leon’s first wife was something of a harpy who complained about everything he did, or at least, about everything he did that she didn’t tell him to do. And Aunt Meg’s first husband was a drinker and a cheater who couldn’t hold down a job.”

“Lovely.”

“I know. Oh, and Leon doesn’t have any kids from his first marriage, but now he has three. He adopted Meg’s two daughters and about a year and a half ago, Leon and Meg had a son together.”

“And they lived happily ever after, flood feud not included,” Kent quipped.

“You’d think,” Phae said, “but much as I love them, Leon and Meg are stubborn as anything and they’ve let their pasts get in the way of a good thing.”

“Stubborn people? In the Jones family? That’s weird.”

“Funny.” Her teeth flashed bright white in the faint light. “To make a long story shortish, after the feud started between Uncle Leon and George Slinker, Leon began going out to Trapper’s Tavern once in a while and drinking with the local boys. He said he was there to drum up local support for his court case.”

“Did it work?”

“Yeah, with the boozers who hang out at Trapper’s. But that didn’t matter. My Aunt Meg couldn’t stand it and didn’t want Leon turning into her ex-husband. Because she complained, and loudly, Leon said he wouldn’t be told what to do, and accused Meg of being like
his
ex. And so they both dug in their heels.”

“Seriously?” Kent asked.

“Seriously. Sometimes people make no sense. Meg is nothing like Leon’s first wife, and he knows it. He knows she has good reason for being afraid, too, with her past. But then, Meg knows Uncle Leon is nothing like her ex, and almost always nurses a single beer when he’s out. Honestly, I don’t think Leon even wants to go to the bar anymore, except he won’t let Meg win.”

“Do they fight about this all the time?”

“That’s the thing. They don’t. Once a week, Leon has to make his stupid point by going to Trapper’s, and once a week, he comes home smelling like beer and he and Aunt Meg have big, loud arguments.”

“Wow. And they have kids …”

“Exactly. The kids seem to know it’s mostly bluster, I think most of the time. It never lasts long because Leon and Meg are really crazy about each other and make up right away. Uncle Leon’s loud even when he’s not in a fight. Still, most of us wish they’d quit it because we can’t be positive it’s not hurting those kids.”

“Couples fight sometimes. I’ve never known one that didn’t,” Kent said.

“Me either. My own parents got into it from time to time, and I remember being scared by it, but they always worked it out. If anything, I learned you can fight with someone and still love them, and you can work out your difficulties eventually.”

“Huh,” Kent said. “It’s like you’re making the point I’ve been trying to make with you.”

“I’m not talking about us.”

“Too bad.” Kent thought about what she’d said. “So that’s why you’re trying to scare your uncle away from drinking at Trapper’s Tavern? For Leon’s and Meg’s kids?”

“Yeah. That’s why.”

“It’s a good reason.”

Her response was warm and gentle. “Thanks.”

They walked in silence for a few moments before Phae said, “But there’s another reason, too.”

“You don’t want him drinking and driving?”

“Sure. But that’s not it. I told you about George Slinker. He’s mad that the court cases aren’t going his way, and he can be a real asshole when he wants to be. So, when Leon and Meg get into these fights, I guess George must be able to hear them. We think he waits for Leon to come home and sneaks around his house to see if they start fighting. We can’t be sure. But however George learns about the arguing, he always calls the sheriff’s office and demands that someone come investigate.”

“Huh.”

“I know. And James has to have his deputies go out there because, well, that’s how it is, family or no. Lately, it isn’t good enough for George to call the cops. Not long ago, George reported Meg and Leon to child services.”

Kent skidded to a halt. “You’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

“Did they investigate?”

“Yep. Sent out a social worker and everything. But they didn’t pursue anything. With what those people see all the time, they aren’t going to spend their limited resources pursuing a couple with well-cared-for kids and a penchant for the occasional loud argument.”

“That must be a relief,” Kent said, walking on.

“Yeah, except George wasn’t finished. He has a sister-in-law who works in family services. And even though no one there wants to pursue anything against Leon and Meg, George’s sister-in-law won’t let it go, and she’s pretty high up in the food chain. She made it clear that if Meg and Leon don’t quit fighting, she’ll take action against them.”

“That’s not fair. Surely Meg and Leon wouldn’t push it to that point.”

“Yeah, that’s what you’d think. But like I said, they’re stubborn, and they don’t think they’re doing anything wrong. They don’t take the threats seriously, Kent. They think that because they’re Joneses living in Zeke’s Bend they’re untouchable.”

“Are they right?”

“Maybe about some things, but not this. This is state level action. They could be in serious trouble, and those kids would be the ones to pay the price.”

Kent was disgusted. “Someone needs to talk sense into them. Meg, Leon, George, the social services woman, all of them.”

“Believe me, we’ve tried over and over.”

“Is George serious? He’d actually have their children taken away because of a feud over ten feet of land? He must be a piece of work.”

“He can be a hothead,” Phae answered, “But this is above and beyond. His wife, Amy, is a sweet woman, and she’s tried to get him to realize that he’s pushed it too far. It’s a mess, Kent, and there’s not a Jones in Zeke’s Bend who can figure out how to fix it.”

“Except you,” he said, experiencing a strange sense of pride that she was brave enough to step up and try to do something to fix the seemingly unfixable. “You’re doing something.”

“I’m trying. Do you know how to climb a barbed wire fence?”

“I hope that question is rhetorical.”

“Nope,” she answered. “There’s one right up here. And there will be another one before we hit the city limits. Can you handle it?”

He bristled. “Of course.”

A few moments later, Kent wished he hadn’t spoken so soon. He poked his finger through the big hole in his blue jeans. If he didn’t quit tromping all over the countryside, he was going to run out of pants.

“You did pretty good,” she said pleasantly as they continued their trek, “for a city boy.”

“I did spend my summers here, you know.”

“Apparently James didn’t teach you about barbed wire fences.”

“Most of the time, Aunt Eugenia wouldn’t let me leave her yard.”

Phae laughed, a silvery, bell-like sound that made Kent happy.

When he couldn’t think of anything to make her laugh again, he said, “Back to Meg and Leon. Do you really think their kids aren’t affected by those fights?”

“All I know for sure is that whenever anyone asks the girls about it, they shrug and say they’ve gotten used to it. After their former lives with an out-of-control alcoholic, it probably doesn’t seem too terrible. Besides, those girls are loud themselves. In fact, lots of the Joneses are loud, even the adopted ones.”

“And fiery. You Joneses are a fiery lot.” Didn’t he know it?

“Can’t argue with you. And some of us are crazy superstitious, Uncle Leon being one of the worst. Black cats, walking under ladders, spilled salt, full moons, on and on. You saw how he was with that rabbit’s foot. He believes that nasty thing brings him luck.”

“Do you think he’ll believe that it actually was ‘Fate’ who stole his truck tonight? He can’t be that gullible. Fate left him a note? I don’t know.”

“He looked pretty scared to me,” Phae said, “but I’m not certain, either.”

“If he’s still looking for those keys, I bet he’s anything but scared right now.”

“You’re probably right. But it’s all I’ve got. I’m pretty sure he won’t call Meg to bring him a spare set.”

“Yeah. Doubt that would go over well the way things are.”

“I figured it would be a lot easier to scare Uncle Leon out of visiting that bar than it would be to try something with Aunt Meg. I couldn’t fool her for a moment, about anything.”

Kent laughed, recalling something at the bar. “I just realized why you meowed at your uncle back there. Black cat?”

“Yep. It lives at a farm up the road. Let’s say I borrowed him for an adventure. Uncle Leon hates black cats. And that note you read? I wrote it in disappearing ink.”

“He’s got to realize it’s a put on.”

“Maybe,” she said. “But all I want to put in his head is that whenever he goes out drinking, he’s going to be unlucky. He can attribute that bad luck to anything he wants, cats, fate, kids pulling a prank, whatever. As long as he knows he’ll have bad luck, I’m counting on that to do the trick.”

“And the trick is …”

“I think he’d love to have an excuse to quit going out, but he can’t give in because of what happened with his first wife. I’m giving him the excuse he needs, so he can do what Meg wants without doing it because she demands it. He’ll do it because of other reasons.”

Kent admired her way of thinking. “That’s very wise.”

She mumbled a modest thanks.

They tramped over the hilly countryside in companionable silence for a while. Kent took deep breaths of the heavy, muggy air. He was becoming accustomed to the humidity, though he doubted he’d ever come to like it.

He made a better show of climbing over the second barbed wire fence, taking more time and making it to the other side unscathed in person and pants.

Phae rewarded him with a friendly smack on his back and a, “I’ll make a country boy out of you yet.”

Not much farther and he realized they were close to town.

“That was fast,” he said, looking at the glow of a familiar convenience store which sat on the edge of the city limits.

Phae stood close to him, the bulky mask dangling from her fingertips. “It’s my shortcut.” She glanced around the area. “We should split up now so we won’t attract notice. You know where we are, don’t you?”

“Yes, but I was hoping we could go back to your place and you could start my lessons. Why don’t we split up here and rendezvous back at your house?”

Phae shook her head. In the shadowy light, he could make out her expression. She actually looked tender. “It’s not a good idea. I do what I do because I care about these people. I know who they are. I can’t teach you about that.”

“I care about people.”