Texas Homecoming (20 page)

"Stop this car and let me out," Jasmine said. "I've managed to get through my whole life without some half-baked male telling me how to run it. I don't intend to change now."

"Oh, and look where it's gotten you!" Luke said, his voice louder now.

Jasmine went utterly still, staring at him, stricken. "You mean the fact that I'm an unmarried mother who strips for a living?"

The pain in her voice, in her face, when she said those words to him shocked him into silence. He stammered, but nothing intelligible came out of his mouth, and then Jasmine opened her door and said, "Stop the car, Ben, or I'll jump out while it's moving.

Ben must have believed she meant it—Luke knew he sure as hell did—because he hit the brakes. Jasmine got out.

Garrett glared at Luke, and Wes shoved him. "Well, what are you waiting for? Go after her. We'll drive around the block till you've finished groveling, cuz."

Luke jumped out of the vehicle and took off after Jasmine. She moved fast for someone walking on five-inch railroad spikes, but he caught up in short order, gripped her shoulders and spun her around. "That's not what I meant, and you damned well know it," he managed to say. He'd been thinking up an appropriate apology for several yards and realized too late that wasn't it.

"Then just what
did
you mean? Hmm?" Hands on her hips, she tapped one foot rapidly on the cracked sidewalk. "Well? I'm waiting?"

"I meant that making decisions on your own has gotten you into this situation that you're in right now. Running for your life, set up for murder, and too damned stubborn to let anyone help you."

"Oh, right. Like you?"

"Yeah. Like me."

"For your information, Luke, I had a plan back there. I gave Leo no choice but to cooperate, and it was working. I got Petronella admitting everything on tape. Audio
and
video! But you came along and distracted me, and he slipped away! I don't
need
your damned help!"

"I know you don't!" he shouted. Then, licking his lips, he lowered his head. "I know you don't. I came charging up here wanting to be your hero— like something out of a fairy-tale, I guess. And here you were, doing just fine without me." He shrugged. "It's kind of deflating, you know?"

She seemed to soften just a little. "You...really? You came to rescue me? Like Elliot said?"

"Yeah. Really."

"Hey, mister," a voice said from behind him.

Luke waved a hand in the air without turning around to look. "Go away. I'm busy. Jasmine, I meant well, I really did. I was trying to save your life when I marched up on that stage the way I did."

She thought about that, then pouted, crossing her arms over her chest. "No way, Luke. If you're going to be honest here, let's do it all the way. You were all ticked off ‘cuz you thought that was me up there shaking my tassels in front of strangers. Admit it. You didn't give a single thought to my safety at that moment. You were just plain jealous and possessive, like some kind of bossy, overbearing Neanderthal."

"Mister!" the voice behind him said again.

"Dammit can't you see I'm in the middle of something here?" Luke snapped. He turned partway around this time.

The kid stood behind him looking like yesterday's garbage. He had a blade in his hand, and he said, "Just gimme your wallet and you won't get hurt."

Jasmine sucked in a sharp breath. "Give it to him, Luke," she whispered.

"Oh, for crying out loud," Luke said. "Fine, here's my wallet." He punched the kid in the face so hard his nose crunched and his lip split. Blood spurted, and the kid went down. Luke bent long enough to snatch up the blade, whipped it over a nearby fence, then turned back to Jasmine again. "Look, maybe you're right maybe I was out of line, and maybe it did bug me to see you—or think I saw you—dancing for all those men." He lowered his head. "If that makes me a closed-minded Neanderthal, then I guess I'm guilty."

She was staring at him, wide-eyed, her gaze darting every now and then to the kid on the ground behind him. Luke kept his eyes on Jasmine. He heard Ben's SUV coming around the block, recognized the sound of the engine.

"Come on, please? Just come with me. Someplace where we can talk? Please?"

Blinking slowly, she nodded. The SUV stopped, and they stepped around the kid, who was pulling himself to his feet. Luke held Jasmine's arm in one hand and opened the door for her with the other.

Garrett nodded toward the kid, who'd taken off at an uneven run, clutching his bloodied nose. "Trouble?"

Luke followed his gaze. "Not so you'd notice."

"Well, if Luke is done picking on the locals, can we get something to eat somewhere before we head back home? My belly button's touching my backbone," Elliot said.

Jasmine sighed, lowered her eyes. "I can't go back with you guys. Not until I finish what I came here to do."

She lifted her head again and met Luke's eyes. "And don't you dare try to tell me I can't. That man is still on the loose. He's still a threat to my son, and I'm not going anywhere until I see to it that he's not."

Luke set his jaw, deciding it was better not to reply to that just now. Drawing a calming breath, he said, "Get us back on the highway, Ben. Best truck stop in the state is ten miles out. We'll get a good meal there and figure out what we're doing next."

Very softly, a throat cleared. All eyes turned to Misti, whom Luke had forgotten was still with them. "What about me?" she asked.

"You
are going back home to your family," Garrett said.

"No way," she snapped.

Garrett eyed her. "They abuse you?"

Her brows came down fast "No. I just don't get along with my mom. She doesn't understand me." And she averted her eyes.

"Hell, kid, a few years ago she
was
you. Trust me on this. Now, tell me where you live so I don't have to haul you into some juvey center somewhere."

Pouting, clearly ticked off, but maybe just a tiny bit relieved, she said, "Cedar Lake, Indiana."

Elliot was already unfolding the map in the back seat.

TWO HOURS LATER, THEY SAT
in a big booth at a truck stop, three on each side of the Formica table. Jasmine had made a point to squeeze into the side with Garrett and Elliot, rather than on the other padded seat with Luke. He was crammed over there between Ben and Wes and looking as if he thought he was the wronged party here.

She really was doing her best to stay angry with him for chasing her up here, for telling her what to do, for leaving Baxter when he'd promised to take care of him. And mostly for acting so damned judgmental about her former career. Hell, it hurt that he thought badly of her. It hurt a hell of a lot more than it should.

And yet...she was touched in spite of herself that he had come here after her, that he had wanted to be her hero.

They'd dropped Misti off at her house. Jasmine had tried like hell not to be affected by that little scene. A middle-aged woman in a housecoat had come to the door to see who was outside. When she saw Misti get out of the hulking vehicle, she burst into tears and ran down the steps, wrapping her up tight and thanking Jesus out loud. When Jasmine had looked around her, she'd seen the big, rugged Brand men at their dopiest. Every last one of them choked up and trying to hide it. She glimpsed ten damp eyes and five crooked smiles in that SUV. And as much as she knew about men, she realized she was only just beginning to know these men.

She watched them smile kindly at the harried waitress as they ordered enough food for an entire football team and told her to keep the coffee coming, and she knew they weren't flirting. They were genuine. It was freaking eerie.

Jasmine had never liked men. Baxter's father had worked hard to gain her trust. He'd conned her all the way into his bed, then vanished the day she told him she was pregnant. She'd been young and, she thought in love. He'd broken her heart. She hadn't trusted men since, and she hadn't ever thought that would change. These men, however, had given her no choice in the matter. In spite of herself, she felt safe with them. She felt cared for. As if she were something important to them, something worth protecting.

Sighing, leaning back in her bench seat crammed between two of the creatures she'd spent her life detesting, she said, "So where's my son, Luke? You promised me you'd take care of him, and yet here you are, and I don't see him anywhere."

Luke met her eyes across the table. "Baxter was fine once he got done crying himself into fits over waking up to find his mother gone."

She flinched. That blow hit home. "I left so I could make things right for him."

"He knows that. You think that made it any easier?"

She lowered her eyes. "I didn't want to hurt him. It was the only way I could see to—"

"It was the only way you could see because you have tunnel vision." She lifted her head, ready to snap back at him, but he shook his head and went on. "He's staying with Chelsea and Bubba until we get back."

"And you think Chelsea and Bubba will be able to protect him if Gianni Petronella finds out where he is?"

"No. I don't. That's why Lash and Jessi are there, too, along with Adam and Kirsten, and Taylor and Penny and Esmeralda...the whole family is closing ranks around Baxter," Luke said. "And not just the local ones, either."

Frowning, Jasmine averted her eyes. But he went right on. "By now I imagine Marcus and Casey have arrived, too—they only had a two-hour drive. Sara and Jake will make it in before the night's out. It's a longer haul from Gator's Bayou, Louisiana."

She lifted her head slowly. "I don't understand."

"That's because you've never had a family around you. That's the way family works, Jasmine. They pull together, they take care of each other."

She locked her gaze with his. "Baxter isn't part of your family. He's mine. I'm his family."

For a long, tense moment he stared back at her, and she knew her words had pissed him off on some level. Why, how, she wasn't sure. She didn't pretend to understand him, and she told herself she didn't want to try. But she knew that was a lie. Why,
why,
did she have to get so defensive where Bax was concerned? She knew Luke adored him.

"Shoot, don't try to tell Bubba that," Garrett said. His voice, lightened by his smile, broke the building tension. "He sure does think of Baxter as family."

"We all do," Wes said. "Family doesn't have to be bound by blood, Jasmine. Love is the real bond."

Ben nodded in agreement. "Rosebud was family to you, wasn't she?"

Jasmine closed her eyes slowly. "Rosebud was my best friend. She was like a sister to me, and she'd have given her right arm for Baxter."

"News flash, Jasmine," Elliot said from beside her. "So would any of us."

She shot Elliot a glance, but he was already looking away from her, focused now on the waitress who was bearing down on them with a laden tray. "Ahh, here comes sustenance. And not a moment too soon, either!" Elliot got up and took the tray from the woman's hands, then stood quietly while she lifted the plates of food from it and deposited them on the table. The whole time she worked, she wore this look of amazed gratitude. When the tray was empty and she took it from him again, Elliot said, "Thank you, ma'am," as he slid back into his seat.

She smiled. "Thank
me?
You keep this up, it'll be
me
leaving
you
a tip." Giving him a friendly wink, she strolled away.

Jasmine watched. Some guy at another table was glaring at the waitress and tapping his empty coffee cup, while another party waved impatiently to get her attention. The Brand men were different. No doubt about it. It got very quiet as they dug into their meals. Jasmine gnawed on her burger and fries without really tasting them, and wondered how in the hell she was going to find Gianni Petronella.

Luke didn't eat with as much gusto as the other men did, she noticed. He picked at his food, ate a little, but didn't seem to take much pleasure in it. Mostly he drank coffee. Lots of coffee. He met her eyes every now and then, looking as if he had something to say, but he never said it. Just looked away again until, finally, he excused himself.

Ten minutes later he was back, and he slapped two keys on the table, each with numbered plastic ovals attached. "I got us rooms for the night."

Jasmine wiped her mouth with a napkin and glanced at her watch.

"That bar will be closed for the night within an hour, Jasmine. Besides, Petronella won't go back there. You've been up for..." Luke looked at his watch. "Hell,
I've
been up for over forty hours. You, for longer. We need to get some rest figure out our next step. Just stay here. You're safe with us, you know you are."

She lifted her brows, about to make some comment about how full of himself he was. But instead she recalled the punk on the street with the blade and the way Luke had reacted. She'd never seen anything like it. He was no more distracted by the kid than he would have been by a mosquito. Not even a little bit afraid. She did feel safe with him. And it was an odd sort of feeling. One she couldn't remember ever having before. It confused her on such a deep level that she couldn't even snap out a sarcastic reply. She just sat there, until finally she said, "So you're cramming us all into two rooms?"

He shook his head and dangled a third key from his hands. "Garrett and Ben get a room. Wes and Elliot get a room. You and I get a room."

Her brows came down hard, and her reaction was automatic. "If you think for one minute that just because—"

"You've been under the same roof with me for long enough to know you can trust me, Jasmine. Twin beds, no ulterior motives except for the obvious one—I don't trust you not to run off the minute my back is turned. So I'm rooming with you. Period."

Jasmine got to her feet and poked him in the chest with a long, shiny fingernail. "No man tells me what to do. You room with your brothers. I'll room by myself." She snatched the key from his hand so fast he didn't have time to prevent it.

"Dammit, Jasmine—"

She strode out the diner's front door, underneath the jangling bells, and headed around to the rear, following the neon motel sign with the flickering arrow. She fully expected Luke would be right on her heels, and so she strode as purposefully as she could manage with her nose in the air and her heels clicking a no-nonsense cadence on the blacktop.