AS HE DRESSED for his night out—blue jeans and a dark red flannel shirt—he thought again about how formal Jacqui always seemed. Nothing she did was casual. Her office was big on titles and last names, she kept her napkin smoothed over her lap as she ate, and she was always dressed immaculately, without even a stray hair out of place. He bet she even wore shoes throughout her house up until the time she went to bed. He chuckled a little as he pictured her watching television, eating popcorn with her pinkie finger up in the air, her high-heeled feet side by side on the floor as she sat there with perfect posture.
And then it wasn’t funny anymore. It was sad. Surely, she hadn’t always been that way. Was it all a part of her penance?
He scooped up his keys, locking his apartment as he headed out for the evening. Why did he care? Sure, she was a challenge, something to keep him from getting too bored while he was settling into a new area, but was that it? He had no problem picking up women. Hell, he had had a couple of one night stands since Neal had summoned him to Biloxi and knew where to find more. So why put all of this effort into a snow queen that showed no signs of wanting his attention? He slid into the driver’s seat of his truck and backed out of his parking spot. Jacqui Karston was miserable. Yet, she seemed to want the people around her to be happy, wanted it to the point of sacrificing her own life to see it happen. True, it didn’t always appear so to those who may not know her. Yet, no one needed to make a sacrifice like that. It was possible to make people happy while still enjoying your own existence. Jacqui’s misery was self-induced. Again, why did he care?
Pulling into traffic, he admitted that he didn’t know. He usually avoided people such as Jacqui. Yet, he couldn’t stop insinuating himself into her life. He told himself it was to see her frustrated face at his antics, but really, she needed it. She surrounded herself with people who bowed to her every demand. She needed to be challenged in order to get her to see what a miserable life she was truly living.
He sighed as he took the turn onto Highway 90 toward Jacqui’s home. I’m such an idiot. I could be in a casino, picking out tonight’s romp in the sheets. Instead, I’m playing life coach to someone who doesn’t even know she needs one. All I needed to do was get the contract and then do the job. I accomplished that goal. I don’t need to be doing this. I shouldn’t be doing this. I shouldn’t. But he knew he couldn’t stop. He even cleaned out his truck, so Jacqui wouldn’t be stepping on old fountain drink cups and fast-food wrappers.
Night claimed the day by the time Morgan pulled into her driveway and stepped out of his truck. He took a deep breath and crossed the small path to the front door. Ringing the doorbell, he felt like a high school kid picking up his date for prom. He wasn’t sure why he suddenly felt nervous, but he was. Even though Bert was joining them, it still had the feeling of a date, a date with her parents. He rolled his eyes toward the sky as he worried about what he was doing. I could be picking up some girl I’d forget the name of by midnight. Why am I doing this?
Jacqui opened the door wearing a slim fitting black skirt and a deep burgundy blouse. He glanced down at her feet and smiled when he saw the black pumps on her feet. Did she ever go barefoot?
She looked him up and down, taking in his casual dress. “I thought we were going out?”
He cocked his head at her as a corner of his mouth curved up in a smile. “We are. It’s barbecue, not a five star restaurant. Trust me. I’ll fit in a lot more than you will.”
Her back stiffened just a little. “I don’t see any reason not to dress nice no matter where a person goes.”
He just nodded, the other corner of his mouth joining the smile. “If you say so. I, on the other hand, believe there is a time and place for everything, including dressing up and dressing down. Bert ready to go?”
At the sound of his name, Bert wheeled himself into the front foyer. He was definitely not ready to go. He was in lounging pants, a white T-shirt and slippers. Morgan arched an eyebrow at him. “Of course, there is such a thing as too casual.”
Bert just chuckled as he handed his daughter his credit card. “I’m not going. Suddenly feeling very tired and just want to zone out in front of the boob tube. Here’s my card. It’s still my treat. You two go and have a great time. And don’t worry about Sophia. She’s already agreed to stay home and fix me a sandwich.”
“Dad, if we need to cancel, I have no problem staying here and keeping you company.”
Morgan stared at the older man. He didn’t seem tired, just sneaky. Morgan shook his head slightly but didn’t say anything.
“Did you miss the part where Sophia is staying home?” He waved them toward the door. “Go. Can’t back out of barbecue now.”
“You’re backing out,” she said, a panicked lilt to her voice.
“I’m old. I’m allowed to change my mind. Hell, I probably forgot what I even said earlier. Now get.”
Morgan took a step back. “I’ll have her bring you a doggie bag.”
Bert pointed at him. “See that you do. I’m paying, so I should at least get leftovers.”
Jacqui tried to fuss, but Bert just pushed her out the door by wheeling his chair closer. She finally surrendered, although it was quite apparent she wasn’t happy about it. Leaning down, she kissed his cheek. “We won’t be late.”
“You better be late! I want some peace and quiet for a change.” He looked at Morgan. “Don’t bring her back until at least eleven.”
Morgan laughed as he waved, walking toward his truck. “You got it.”
As soon as Jacqui was out of the doorway, Bert shut it and they could hear the lock click solidly in place. Morgan chuckled as he opened Jacqui’s door for her. “I think you’ve been kicked out of your house for the night.”
“It seems so.” Her tone matched her posture—stiff. Once she was settled into the passenger seat, Morgan shut her door. It was not going to be his typical night.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
She had been tricked, conspired against by her own father. Again. If she didn’t know better, she would have believed Morgan and her father were in cahoots to get her out of the house just to embarrass her. She glanced over at Morgan and the way he was dressed, then took in her own attire for the evening again. They were definitely a mismatched pair. He looked like he was ready for a rodeo and she for a board meeting. She should have asked him what the attire for the evening was so she would have been better prepared. Not that it would have mattered. She had no use for casual outfits. She didn’t attend picnics or go to barbecues.
So why was she going to one now?
Because my father couldn’t mind his own business. She crossed her arms over her chest as she exhaled a frustrated breath. Her father had backed out at the last minute, setting her up on this date without him. No. It’s not a date. It’s a kidnapping. She refused to think of it as a date. She didn’t go on dates.
“So, you haven’t had barbecue before? I’m not really surprised.”
She turned to him, her brows pinched in annoyance. “And exactly what is that supposed to mean?”
He shrugged as he maneuvered the Biloxi streets. “You seem more the steamed vegetables and salmon type of person, that’s all.”
“That’s a pretty narrow-minded assessment, don’t you think.”
He shrugged again. “Perhaps.” He took a right turn, and the Gulf came into view. “Do you always dress so formal?”
She shifted in her seat to glare at him. “You are just full of judgments tonight, aren’t you? Anything else you’d like to criticize?” She could feel her ire beginning to rise as she sat there staring at him. “If you find so much wrong with me, why are you always sticking your nose into my life?”
“Because someone needs to. You’re a stick in the mud that needs to be uprooted and shown the breeze. Bend a little. I promise, you won’t break.”
“Can you just take me back home, please? I think I’ve been judged enough for one evening.”
“Sorry. Can’t. We’re already here.” He nodded with his chin at a rundown shack of a building as he pulled into the parking lot.
Jacqui glanced out the front windshield as he searched for a parking spot. There was no way the restaurant he had chosen passed a health inspection. It was a rundown wooden structure that should have been demolished years ago. The walls were rustic wood and the roof seemed like rotted palm fronds, with a faded sign that barely announced that they were eating at J.C.’s BBQ. “I’m going to get food poisoning.”
Morgan laughed as he pulled into a parking spot and shut his truck down. “No, you won’t. We had this for lunch a couple of days ago. Trust me. It’s the best barbecue around.”
She glanced at him as he opened his door. “And you’re a connoisseur of barbecue?”
He glanced over his shoulder at her, a smirk aimed her way. “Among other things.”
She waited in her seat a moment to see what type of man Morgan was. A few seconds after his door had shut, he opened hers, waiting for her to slide out. At least, he has some manners and isn’t a complete Neanderthal.
A country twang assaulted her ears as she stepped out of the truck. Speakers at the corners of the building blared a banjo being strummed, only buffeting her notion that she was going to die tonight. Her father had sent her to her own execution. Was this revenge for not allowing him to fix his own porch?
“You coming?” Morgan stood at the front of his truck, waiting for her. She should run, but she didn’t, which was probably smart since she had never learned to run in heels anyway.
She followed him inside where a young woman, probably still in high school, waited behind a wooden podium covered with toothpicks and menus. The inside of the establishment was just as bad as the outside. Wooden walls separated booths that were more picnic tables than normal restaurant furniture. Baskets of condiments rested on each table and peanut shells covered the floor. She wasn’t sure why that trend had started or why the restaurants couldn’t keep it swept up. Or, for that matter, why people felt the need to throw their trash on the floor. Were they not raised better than barn animals? Televisions blared from the corners of the place, each one set to a different channel, almost all sports. She hated eating in places that had televisions but could see where this would be high dining to someone such as Morgan Brewer.
The young girl smiled at them, grabbing two laminated menus and escorted them to a booth in the middle of the restaurant. Jacqui’s heels crunched on the peanut shells blanketing the floor and she had to fight not to say anything. They had barely slid into their seats before the young girl announced that their server would be Wendy and she would be right with them.
No sooner had she walked away than Wendy approached asking to take their drink orders. Jacqui was about to order a sweet tea, but Morgan asked the lady to bring two glasses of water and two Samuel Adams. Jacqui just stared at him. “You ordered yourself two beers?”
He shook his head. “Nope. One’s for you.” He held up his hand before she could protest. “I know. You don’t drink. Well, you are tonight. Barbecue calls for beer. Trust me.”
“Not even a little.”
“Well, the water is in case you don’t like it. But, you’ll at least try it. Consider it part of the experience.”
“It’s not an experience I care to try.”
He winked at her. “You’ll be fine.”
Arguing was a waste of time, so she stared at the menu instead, saving her breath. Chicken tenders. Pulled pork. Baked beans. Catfish. Her stomach turned. This was not her normal fare. Knowing it was not going to set well with her, she tried to pick something that would do the least amount of damage.
By the time waitress Wendy arrived with the beers and water, Jacqui had decided on the barbecue beef, corn on the cob, and barbecue baked beans. She wasn’t sure if she had ever had beans with barbecue sauce before, but it was the only way they came, so she was stuck trying it. Their vegetable selections were the basic, corn and green beans. They did offer fried okra, but the way the building looked, she was scared to attempt anything that probably wasn’t ordered much by its clientele. She doubted it would be fresh. They placed their orders and then stared at each other after Wendy walked away.
Morgan was smiling at her. He picked up his beer and held it up to her. She sighed, not wanting to follow suit, but knew he wasn’t going to relent. She should have just left his arm in the air to see how long he waited in that position. Instead, she picked up her bottle—not even a glass!—and clinked the top with his. “To new adventures,” he said before taking a swig of his beer. She just smiled and lifted the bottle to her mouth. It was bitter, but cold and wet. She wasn’t sure what he was trying to prove to her. Probably that she couldn’t have fun or was too uptight to loosen up. She was going to prove him wrong, however, even if it made her vomit later.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
By the way her face puckered up just before she forced it back to normal, it was quite apparent she didn’t like the taste of the beer. He wanted to laugh but didn’t think it wise. To be honest, he didn’t care if she drank it or not. His sole purpose was to get her to open herself up to a new experience. Of course, knowing Jacqui Karston, she assumed a gauntlet had been thrown down and they were now in the middle of some contest. She was a stubborn woman.
“You don’t meet many people who have never tried beer,” Morgan said.
“I’ve tried it. I just didn’t want it.”
He nodded. “You don’t like to drink at all, isn’t that right?”
“Alcohol causes people to make bad decisions.” Her face held a pain that said there was history in her words. “I prefer not to travel that path again.”
“I can understand that. It’s been a part of some of my misguided adventures as well. Of course, I just liked to blame my decisions on alcohol. Most of the time, I knew what I was doing as I was doing it. I just didn’t care.” He shrugged. “I’ve been a pretty selfish bastard at times.” He wasn’t sure why he was sharing his torrid life with her, but he kept going. “It cost me. I’ve been married twice and now I barely get to see my four-year-old son. All because I thought of the moment and not the big plan ahead.”
He felt her eyes on him, her brows pinched in concentration as she listened to what he was saying. Her pale face held just a touch of sadness as if his tale sparked something in her. “I lived for the moment as well at one time in my life and it cost me the most important things I had.” Her voice was a somber whisper. “I vowed then never to allow it to happen again.”
He took a long drink from his beer as he settled back on his side of the booth. He smiled at her as he set the bottle back on the table. “I never said I wouldn’t do it again. You miss a lot if you ignore the present moment. While life has its serious side, it’s still meant to be fun. I learned my lesson and figured out where the line was. I won’t cross it again, but I can come pretty damn close to it. Life is an adventure, after all.”
She shook her head. “Life is serious. There are people hurting and it is our responsibility to help them.”
“I agree to a degree. But that doesn’t mean to help them in their life you have to give up yours. There has to be a balance, or you lose yourself to everyone else. Help them, even sacrifice some things for them, but don’t sacrifice your entire life for them.”
The food came and Jacqui slid her napkin perfectly onto her lap. The conversation changed to less serious topics as they ate, and he enjoyed seeing her smile as they shared stories from their childhoods. She even finished her beer without wincing. Of course, she then ordered a sweet tea to go with the rest of her meal. She laughed, her hand over her mouth to help hide her smile. At one point, he reached out and took her hand away from her mouth as she was laughing. She gave him a strange look as if shocked that he had touched her. “Don’t hide your smile. It makes your eyes sparkle.”
She blushed at the words and her cheeks looked cute with the color. Her lips looked kissable with barbecue sauce on them as well and he avoided telling her she had some on her lips, savoring the imperfection on her perfect face. It didn’t last long, however, but he was glad he was able to witness it just a bit.
All too soon, the evening was over. As they were in the truck heading back to her house, he had to ask about her father. “Why do you force him to live with you?”
She shifted in her seat a little, obviously thinking he was sticking his nose where it didn’t belong. “Because he needs help. If he tipped over or fell, who would be there to take care of him, make sure he didn’t get hurt?”
He glanced over at her. “Bert doesn’t strike me as a weak man, even in his wheelchair. I think you know that, too. I also think you keep him at your house for your benefit, not his. You’re a control freak. You need to let that go.”
“And you need to stay out of my business. Don’t presume after a few meetings and a dinner you know anything about me. I’ll take care of my father the way I think is best.”
He shrugged. “And what about what he thinks is best? He misses his home, being surrounded by the memories he made with his wife. He’s staying with you because you need him to be there, not because he needs it. You’re not making him stronger, Jacqui. You’re making him weaker.”
“How dare you! Who the hell do you think you are telling me how to take care of my father?”
“Someone who watched Bert move around his house. He was longing for his couch, his bed, the photographs on the walls. His life is in that house, just like yours is in your house. You need to trust him and give it back to him.”
She stared at him for a moment, before turning her gaze out the window, her silence a wall between them. Her arms were crossed over her chest and he could see her shoulders rise softly with her breathing. He knew he probably crossed a line, but he had seen the lost expression on Bert’s face. The man wanted to be back in his own home. Morgan knew he would feel the same way. Grown adults don’t like being dependent on other people. It took something away from them, not just their pride, but their spirit as well.
They pulled back into her driveway and, once the truck was off, he walked around the truck to open her door. He watched as she slid out of her seat and he could tell her mind was lost on what he had said. Whether she was considering it or stewing that he had dared challenge her wishes, he couldn’t tell. Sliding his hands in his pockets, he walked her to the front door in silence. Again, he had that prom night feeling.
At the door, she turned to say goodnight, but he cut her off. “Look, I’m sorry. You’re right. It’s none of my business. I just saw the way he looked at his possessions in that house. He misses it.” He nodded at her house. “You haven’t left this house. Why? Because of the memories you get to hold onto. You kept that for yourself. Why take it away from him?”
She glanced over her shoulder at the oak door and the windows as if she could see everything inside and nodded. Her anger eased as she heard the truth in his words. “There are still parts of the house I avoid,” she said. “I still can’t go on the back porch.” She turned back to face him. “But I couldn’t get rid of it.” Tears had welled up in the corners of her eyes, threatening to pour over her eyelids and down her cheeks. “I can feel them—my family—here.”
“Your dad wants to feel your mother and he can’t do that here. Let him go home.”
“I can’t take the chance that something would happen to him and I couldn’t get there fast enough.”
Morgan felt a stirring in his chest, catching his breath, as he witnessed her vulnerability. He reached out and took her hand in his, squeezing it. “Jacqui, life is a chance in itself. Sometimes you just have to roll the dice and see what happens.” He stepped closer to her. “I did when I agreed to come here and take this job.” He looked into her eyes, noticing the fear that was there, the pain, and it melted him. She wasn’t a challenge to be overcome. She was a person that needed a second chance at life. He leaned toward her, not even aware that he was doing it until he noticed she was leaning toward him as well. “Life is about taking those chances.” And then, he kissed her, her warm lips moist on his as he squeezed her hand. He felt her tongue stroking his, her breath warm against his mouth,
She broke it first. He knew she would. “I…” She couldn’t finish whatever she was about to say.
He didn’t push it. He squeezed her hand again. “I enjoyed tonight. Thank you.” He lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles. When he looked back up at her, he knew he was smiling. She just stared at him, her eyes like those of a deer in headlights, not sure what she was supposed to do. “I’ll check on you tomorrow.” He gave her a nod of his head as he turned and walked back to his truck. She was still standing there as he drove off.