The Family Feud: The Family Feud / Stop The Wedding?!
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“I came to tell Dad that Kendra’s wedding has been called off.”
“Yeah? How come?” he asked, continuing his marvelous massage.
“Because she found her fiancé in bed with another woman and now she and Mother are at home, drowning their troubles in wine. I told them that troubles have gills and fins and know how to swim, but their wounded pride wasn’t listening.”
“I’m sorry to hear it,” Morgan commiserated. “Surprised? No. But sorry just the same.”
“Richard Samson called the house twice while I was there, demanding to speak to Kendra,” Jan confided. “She told me to tell him to go straight to hell and never come back because she wasn’t speaking to him as long as she lived—or he lived, whichever came first. In addition, she told me to inform him that she hoped he was the first to go so she could trample on his grave.”
Morgan chuckled. “So, your sister is in phase one of the Woman Scorned Syndrome. She’s put a death wish on the man she proclaimed to love and respect above all others till death do part. Quite the contradiction.”
“Yes, well, Mother and Kendra have a tendency toward melodrama,” she said as she absently worked the stiffness from her tender wrist. “But I wouldn’t be the least bit forgiving or charitable to a man who supposedly loved me enough to marry me and then had a prewedding fling a month prior to publicly pledging undying love and devotion to me.” She stared inquisitively at Morgan. “Why do men do stuff like that?”
Morgan shrugged, then leaned back to brace his weight on his forearms. “I’m not sure it’s fair to condemn the entire male gender because of one idiot. Richard always had a roving eye to rival my mother’s. He’s handsome and successful, but he sees himself as a ladies’ man.”
“But you wouldn’t pull a stunt like that, right?” she challenged him.
Morgan stared her squarely in the eye and Jan struggled valiantly not to get lost in those mesmerizing silver-blue pools that were surrounded with the kind of long curly lashes that women would kill for.
“If I was crazy in love with one woman? No,” he declared. “Or at least I don’t think I’d be that stupid. But what the hell do I know? I was raised by a mother who was too busy chasing men to notice me.
“And the truth is,” he was quick to add, “I’m not encouraging your dad to consort with my mother. She likes John because she needs a steady stream of male companions. She doesn’t think she can function without a man in her life. I advised Mom to back off because John is vulnerable, but she doesn’t listen to me. Never did.”
“Parents,” she grumbled. “You go off to have a life of your own, but you can’t trust them to behave properly in your absence.”
“Yeah well, Mom never behaved properly,” Morgan replied. “I don’t know a damn thing about family dynamics because my string of stepfathers weren’t around long enough for me to figure out how a family is supposed to function. For me, turmoil and upheaval were a way of life.”
One corner of Jan’s heart melted. She never realized how good she’d had it, growing up in a loving household—even if that household had shattered recently and she was left to pick up the pieces. Life for Morgan couldn’t have been easy, despite his popularity and athletic prowess.
Jan sighed audibly. “I want to apologize for coming down on you like a ton of bricks this afternoon. You just sort of got caught in the crossfire of my frustration with my parents. I’m sorry I took it out on you.”
“And you never forgave me for the Homecoming incident,” he put in perceptively. “I hurt and embarrassed you and I’m sorry as hell.” Morgan reached over to curl his finger beneath her chin, raising her gaze to his. “For what it’s worth, I took that stupid dare because I was curious about how it would feel to kiss that shy, unbelievably sweet sophomore who was infatuated with me, even if she was caught up in the fact that I was supposedly the superstar athlete of Oz.”
“That wasn’t the reason I had a crush on you,” she blurted out, then withdrew into her own space. His touch was seriously affecting her vital signs and her thought processes. Plus, her emotions were already spinning like a Tilt-A-Whirl carousel because of today’s fiasco.
“No?” he asked skeptically. “In those days all the girls I dated were caught up in my celebrity status. The image is what attracted them.”
“Well, I wasn’t looking to attach myself to the image,” she insisted. “I envied your outgoing personality and your ability to make friends easily.” She felt the heat rush to her cheeks as she added, “And okay, you did have the dashing good looks of a heartthrob, still do, but you were everything I wanted to be. Just working up the nerve to strike up a conversation with you at school made my palms sweat and my pulse pound in my ears. I was the little computer nerd with a mouthful of metal and the physique of Olive Oyl. You were the high school stud muffin who inspired feminine dreams.”
Morgan chuckled in amusement when Jan’s face turned a deeper shade of pink. Despite their initial argument at his store, being with Janna had a soothing and yet arousing effect on him. He found himself wanting to touch her for whatever excuse he could dream up. Staring into those lustrous hazel eyes, splattered with shards of gold nuggets, left him wishing she’d be in town long enough to make amends for his past mistakes.
Knowing she’d dropped whatever she was doing in Tulsa to ride to her family’s rescue impressed him. He couldn’t begin to imagine what it would feel like to have that kind of loyalty and devotion directed toward him. But Janna was here to resolve the Mitchell feud because she was fiercely loyal to those she loved most—and he wasn’t included on that list.
According to John, Janna had always been the family peacemaker, the solid rock in a household of emotional and melodramatic women. Unlike Georgina Price, Janna had stability and stick-to-itness. Morgan admired that.
He hopped off the tailgate, then hooked his arm around Janna’s waist to playfully tote her to the truck. She was a featherweight in his arms and he looked for any excuse to touch her. Plus, he didn’t want her tramping around with one shoe off and one on and stepping in something gooey.
“Have you had supper yet?” he asked impulsively.
“No, I was too busy playing nursemaid and therapist to Mother and Kendra. But I’ve imposed enough on you already.”
“It’s not an imposition. I’d enjoy the company. I could throw together sandwiches and chips so neither of us would have to eat alone.”
“Well, if you’re sure I’m not intruding,” she said hesitantly.
When they returned to the house, Morgan retrieved Jan’s suitcase from her car so she could change clothes. He set her luggage by the door and watched her appraise his home. He didn’t realize he was holding his breath, hoping for her approval, until she smiled in appreciation. It was that particularly radiant smile that hit him right where he lived. Her smile made her more appealing to him than she already was. God, she looked good and smelled alluring. He didn’t know what fragrance she was wearing but it made him want to sidle closer and breathe her in.
“Nice place,” she complimented as she walked unevenly into the living room. “I like your western décor.”
“Your dad helped me with the construction. That’s how we got reacquainted. I had him for a teacher in high school. Nice man, your father.”
Jan wrinkled her nose. “I always thought so until he went middle-age crazy, bought a Winnebago motor home and walked out on Mom.” She turned her questioning gaze on him. “Will you explain where Dad’s coming from so I can get a better feel for the problems I need to address?”
“I’ll tell you what he’s told me over supper. Go change clothes while I grab the makings for sandwiches.”
While Janna changed, Morgan rounded up supper. The phone rang while he had his head stuck in the fridge. One of the women from a nearby town that he dated occasionally invited him over for supper Saturday. Ordinarily, Morgan would’ve leaped at the chance for a home-cooked meal and romantic companionship, but he asked for a rain check. He suspected the reason was because Janna was underfoot. Not that he believed for one millisecond that this short-term truce was going anywhere, because it obviously couldn’t. But he felt comfortable with her. Plus, he was inclined to compensate for hurting and humiliating her years earlier. He’d accidentally crushed what little self-confidence she’d acquired. She’d been a sweet, impressionable teenager and he’d trampled on her heart. He’d like Janna to realize that he wasn’t the cocky, insensitive bastard she thought he was.
When Janna ambled toward him, wearing a powder-blue knit blouse and jeans that accentuated her curvaceous figure more than her streamlined business suit, Morgan’s hand stalled over the slices of bread and ham he’d arranged on a plate. She’d let her hair down and a riot of shiny, spring-loaded chestnut curls tumbled over the rise of her full breasts and cascaded halfway down her back.
Damn! His male hormones snapped to attention in two seconds flat, reminding him that it’d been a long time between women.
Janna angled her head and stared inquisitively at him while he stood there immobilized by sexual awareness. “Something wrong?”
“Yeah,” Morgan muttered. “You’re an exceedingly attractive woman and it’s hard not to notice, but I do apologize for staring.”
“Right.” She smirked as she tugged at her comfy blouse. “I grew up in a household with two tall, willowy blue-eyed blondes. I was the runt of the litter and Kendra attracted more boyfriends than she could count. I was overlooked constantly, the one given the second notice and second consideration. Don’t try to work your charm on me, Morgan. I know what I look like.”
No, he thought, obviously she didn’t have a clue how appealing she was. “I’m just stating the facts, ma’am. I find you extremely attractive. Next you’ll be telling me that none of those big city corporate types have noticed and panted after you,” he added, then smirked. “Yeah, right.”
Janna filled the glasses with ice. “First off, the majority of corporate types offend my independent streak. Second, romance in the workplace is ill-advised. Since I work ten-hour days there hasn’t been time for personal relationships.” She tossed him a surreptitious glance as she plunked down at his table. “Besides, I learned my lesson about men twelve years ago.”
Morgan sighed heavily as he took his seat. “If you’re trying to make me feel like a world-class ass, you’ve succeeded. I was eighteen years old then, which is the equivalent of being a hormone-driven idiot. Jeez, Janna, you aren’t going to hold me personally accountable for distorting your perception of men, too, are you?” he asked as he rocked back on the hind legs of his chair—a habit he’d picked up during childhood, a habit his mother disliked. It had become his way of annoying Georgina whose lack of attention and constant string of men annoyed the hell out of him.
Jan leaned her forearms on the table, stared him straight in the eye and said, “I was sweet sixteen and never been kissed until that night with you at Home-coming. And you must have made a lasting impression on me because I’m still a virgin.”
The forthright comment caused him to rear back in surprise—which wasn’t a good thing since he was teetering off balance in his chair. Morgan yelped when the chair tipped back and crashed to the floor—with him in it.
3
MORGAN LAY THERE like an overturned beetle, his eyes bugging out. His body was vibrating like a paint mixer after the jarring fall. His brain echoed with Janna’s shocking admission. A virgin? She was still a virgin? His forbidden, X-rated fantasies of getting to know Janna in the most intimate sense—on the couch, the dining table, in the shower and eventually on the bed—had just been shot all to hell.
Janna appeared above him, her glorious mane of hair tumbling around her face. She flashed him an impish grin, obviously delighted that she’d gotten his goat. Morgan just couldn’t let it slide—maybe it was the natural-born competitor in him. “So, you’re telling me you’re still carrying a torch for me, hmm? Well, I’ll be damned, sugarbritches.”
She shot him a sour glower while she loomed over him. “Don’t be a world-class ass, Morgan. I was just starting to like you again.”
When she whipped around to return to her chair, Morgan lay there, wondering if he should apologize for ruining her love life. A virgin? Damn, he just couldn’t seem to wrap his mind around that concept. He thought twenty-eight-year-old virgins were extinct. Apparently there was one on the endangered list and she’d returned to the Land of Oz.
When he stopped to consider how much he’d learned about Janna in the course of one day it made his head whirl like the spin cycle of a washing machine. He’d dated and bedded other women and he hadn’t been able to pin down their traits and characteristics as easily as he could define Janna.
She was a late bloomer who believed she was second-rate compared to her mother and sister’s striking appearance—and boy, was she ever wrong about that! She’d learned not to trust the motives of men—his fault. She was well educated, devoted to her successful career and unfalteringly loyal to her family. She was honest and straightforward and had no delusions of self-importance. She impressed the hell out of him and she kept him off balance—which was why he was still sprawled in his upturned chair on the tiled floor, staring dazedly at the ceiling.
Being with Janna was like riding a roller coaster—blindfolded. Just when you caught your breath and got a grip you were plunging into another breathtaking dive and mind-spinning curve.
“Do you need help getting up?” she called to him.
No, he mused as he rolled onto all fours, then uprighted his chair. He needed help coping with the fact that he wanted to be the man who altered Janna’s low opinion of men and introduced her to intimacy. After all, he was the one who provoked her to swear off men in the first place. Didn’t it naturally follow that he should correct her misconceptions…Whoa, down boy. Don’t even go there, he scolded himself. You’ve done enough to influence her life. Just back off!
Morgan sighed inwardly as he plunked into his seat. He’d already been dragged, unwillingly, into the middle of the Mitchell family feud. Getting involved with Janna would be the dumbest thing he’d ever done. Second dumbest, he amended. Humiliating her and spoiling her perception of men twelve years ago was fast becoming the curse of his life.
Morgan kept his gaze downcast and grabbed his sandwich. After Janna’s shocking announcement he wasn’t sure how to kick start conversation. He’d never had that problem before. As she’d said, he was outgoing by nature and habit, especially after working with the public for so many years. But damn if he could think of a single, solitary thing to say.
“I’m sorry,” Janna apologized. “I can’t believe I blurted that out.”
“That makes two of us,” Morgan mumbled.
“Maybe I’ve been subconsciously using your betrayal as a defense mechanism to prevent getting hurt again, and for explaining the fact that I’m utterly lacking and inadequate in the romance department.”
Damn, she was trying to apologize, but he was feeling worse by the minute. Glumly, Morgan bit into his sandwich.
“So, now you know I haven’t had any men. Have you had a lot of women?” she asked flat-out.
Morgan sucked air—and the mouthful of ham sandwich stuck in his windpipe. While he choked and gasped, Janna bounded up like a jackrabbit to whack him soundly between the shoulder blades. After Janna performed the Heimlich maneuver he managed to fill his oxygen-deprived lungs. When his vocal apparatus began to function properly he wasn’t sure he wanted to respond to that question, but she was staring at him with persistent curiosity.
“Why do you want to know?” he bleated like a sick lamb.
She shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m trying to revise the bad impression I carried around for twelve years. Thus far, I’ve discovered you really aren’t trying to urge Dad toward your mother, that your childhood was a constant adjustment to your mother’s companions, that you have an honest affection for Dad and you aren’t trying to undermine my attempt to mend family fences.” She paused to wet her whistle with a sip of iced tea. “I just wondered if you went through women to retaliate against your mother for giving more attention to her boyfriends than to her one and only son.”
“The answer to your last question is no. I’m not into transferring revenge against Mom to other women.” He grinned rakishly. “And how many women is a lot?”
She returned his smile and he felt another jolt of awareness deliver a one-two punch to his solar plexus—and body parts below the belt buckle.
“A lot would be ten in ten years,” she decided.
“Less than ten, but not the right one, if there’s such a thing as the right one,” he qualified. “After watching Mom operate I’m leery of marriage and the divorce that inevitably follows.”
“Understandable,” she concurred. “I’ve pretty much figured I’ll be married to my job. I aspired to be the favorite aunt to Kendra’s kids, but now, who knows how long before I reach exalted aunt status?”
Janna stood up to grab the pitcher of tea and filled his glass. It occurred to Morgan that Janna was the sort of individual who simply noted what needed to be done and did it. She was nurturing, efficient, competent and aware of what transpired around her, unlike many women he’d dated who were so caught up in themselves that they’d trip over a bomb in a posted mine-field and be surprised when the ground exploded.
Damn, he liked Janna’s style. He also liked the fact that she didn’t play flirtatious games and that she wasn’t aware of how appealing and attractive she was. He supposed that, being the plain goose surrounded by two elegant blond swans, Janna had accepted her lot in life and got on with it. Well, no plain goose, this, he mused, casting her a discreet but appreciative glance. She captivated him, bewitched him without trying.
The jangling phone sent Morgan’s thoughts scattering like quail. He scooted his chair backward—carefully—to reach the phone. “Hello?”
“Morgan?” Sob, shudder and sniffle. “This is…S-Sylvia Mitchell. I c-can’t find Janna so I need you to d-deliver a message to John. I’m sure he’s out there somewhere, doing…whatever.”
“Okay,” Morgan said, his gaze fixed on Janna. His newfound protectiveness for Janna refused to let him inform Sylvia that her daughter was sitting across the table. The Mitchells had put Janna’s emotions through the wringer today. She’d relaxed and he didn’t want her stressing out again. Ask him, her family expected too much from her.
“Kendra disappeared,” Sylvia went on shakily. “I dozed off after drinking too much wine. When I woke up Kendra was gone. I’m worried sick about her. The last thing I remember her saying was that she was going to have her revenge on her two-timing ex-fiancé by giving him a taste of his own medicine…Oops, I forgot that’s not public knowledge yet.”
“Mum’s the word,” Morgan assured her. “I’ll send out a search party. Just try to get some rest and don’t worry about a thing.”
“Impossible!” Sylvia blubbered. “My whole world’s falling apart!”
Morgan hung up the phone and met Janna’s curious stare head-on. “How’s your headache?” he asked.
“Bearable,” she replied apprehensively. “What’s wrong?”
Morgan grabbed the empty plates and set them in the sink. “Your sister has gone missing. As delicately as your mother knew how, she told me Kendra is out on the prowl to punish Richard for his infidelity.”
“What!” Janna vaulted to her feet. “I’ve got to find her!”
Morgan expected as much. Janna was a one-woman rescue brigade. Her nagging headache and emotional exhaustion be damned. “We’ll take my truck,” Morgan insisted on his way to the door.
“You don’t have to help.” Janna grabbed her purse from the sofa. “I don’t want to put you to more trouble. Thanks for supper—”
Morgan latched on to her arm before she barreled through the door. “I’m going along as backup, just in case things turn ugly.”
“I can handle Kendra,” she assured him confidently.
“Maybe so, but you might not be able to handle the jackass she turns to for comfort and validation. I can provide the muscle.”
“That’s sweet of you, but I’ve imposed too much already.”
Morgan decided they could argue during their womanhunt. Time was wasting. “You aren’t imposing. You’re saving me from a dull evening of sorting socks. Besides, how am I going to learn about family dynamics unless I stick with you?” he said as he shepherded her toward his truck. “For curiosity’s sake, I’d like to watch you operate, Miss Fix-it.”
“Your significant other might not like it if we’re seen together,” she said as she hurried to keep up with his long, swift strides.
“I’m not seeing anyone seriously.” He cut her a quick glance. “But maybe you don’t want to be seen with me.”
Janna shook her head, causing that mass of curlicue strands to ripple over her shoulders like molten flames, making him itch to bury his fingers in those silky tendrils. Funny, he’d never had a fetish for running his hands through a woman’s hair before. Why now? Why her? Talk about your ill-fated attraction! He had a bad case of the hots and he needed to cool his jets.
“All I care about is rescuing my sister from a reckless fling she’ll live to regret. How could she even think about sleeping with the first man who comes along? Surely she has more respect for herself than that.”
“My guess is she isn’t thinking clearly after that wine-fest,” Morgan replied as he backed up the truck. “She’s hurting and she’s been betrayed. Her solution is to find a man who wants her on any terms and conditions.” He stared surreptitiously at her. “Unlike you, who went to the opposite extreme after I shattered your adolescent illusions.”
Janna placed her hand over his and smiled apologetically. “I shouldn’t have unloaded on you earlier, and I’m sorry about that. Could we just forget I said that?”
Not likely. Morgan was fiercely attracted to this alluring virgin. Knowing he couldn’t have her was slowly and steadily driving him crazy. As soon as they rescued Kendra, he’d keep his distance from Janna. As much as he enjoyed her company he couldn’t let himself get too involved or attached. Resolved to that sensible notion, Morgan headed toward the local beer joint to find Janna’s gone-wild sister.
JAN GRABBED the door latch, intent on leaping from the truck the moment Morgan stamped on the brake. Her sense of urgency provoked her to find her moronic sister—pdq. Jan didn’t bother to rake herself over live coals for blurting out her virgin status to Morgan. She supposed she only wanted to shock him, get a reaction from him and she’d derived wicked amusement watching him crash to the floor and gape at her in amazement.
Yet, none of that mattered at the moment, Jan mused as she bounded from the truck and hightailed it to Goober Pea Tavern. She had to save Kendra from sheer idiocy. Kendra wasn’t accustomed to being jilted and now she was determined to soothe her feminine pride by reinforcing the belief that men still wanted her.
Jan cannoned through the door, momentarily disoriented by the cloud of smoke and dimly lit interior. She could only make out shadowy silhouettes at the tables and bar. Lord, she hoped she wasn’t too late to rescue Kendra. If she’d come and gone, Jan wasn’t sure where to search next.
Squinting, Jan panned the crowded bar and studied the couples that two-stepped around the dance floor while the jukebox played Garth Brooks’s hit: “I’ve Got Friends In Low Places.” Frantically, Jan tried to locate that mop of tangled blond hair that belonged to Kendra. She felt Morgan’s reassuring presence behind her and she fully appreciated his towering height when his arm shot out to indicate the chummy couple nestled in a corner booth. Jan plunged forward, oblivious to the speculative male glances directed at her.