The Last Execution (24 page)

Had he agreed to answer Leigh’s questions today at the picnic? It might’ve been easier to have taken her inside the bar with him. One good dose of his mother and he wouldn’t have to explain anything. Leigh would gather her son close and run as fast and far away as she could.

Dressing meant slipping on shoes and a shirt since he’d slept in his jeans. He secured the last button on the way to the kitchen to join his grandmother. Going topless was begging for an ass chewing at Nana’s house.

“Hello, gorgeous,” he spoke from the doorway.

“Good morning.” She filled a mug and carried it to him, holding her face up for a kiss. “Sorry if I woke you. I wanted to let you sleep a while.”

“You didn’t get back to bed until after four either. You’re the one who should be resting.” Nana had insisted on her daughter bathing before getting into J.T.’s old bed.

“I’ll bet I slept better than you did.”

“The couch was fine.” He turned a kitchen chair backward and sat facing her.

She took her apron from the key rack he’d made in woodshop and tied it around her waist before joining him at the table. Her eyes were bright and full of excitement. Hell, she looked rejuvenated.

“You do have a glow about you this morning.”

“My daughter is home, thanks to you.”

“You wanted her here. Here’s where I brought her.” J.T. cast an irritated glance down the hall toward where his mother slept.

“This is where she belongs.”

“Nana.” He disagreed with a shake of the head. “She needs another stint in a rehab.”

“You know how well the last time worked.”

“When was the last time she tried to get sober?”

“What time do I need to be dressed and ready?”

J.T. laughed at her blatant attempt to change the subject. “You’re not seriously considering leaving mother here with Elva?”

“She’s a retired nurse. She understands the situation.” She waved her hand as if his concerns were unfounded. “We’re keeping our commitment to your lady friend’s family. What’s her name again?”

“Leigh McBride. Don’t try to change the subject.”

“McBride’s a good Irish name. Besides, Roxanne will sleep all day.”

“When she sobers up, she’ll be gone. She doesn’t want to be around us.” Nana was setting herself up for another heartbreak. Her ability to forget and forgive time and time again boggled his mind.

“Teddy,” Nana said in her don’t-argue-with-me tone. “Roxanne is aware of how much she put you through. She needs my help.”

“Put me through? That’s nothing,” J.T. scoffed. “You’ve got your hopes up, and she will disappoint you. Again. Maybe you should stay here today. Keep an eye on the silverware, because she’ll clean you out and never look back.”

“Now you’re talking nonsense. She’s in no condition to go anywhere.” She stood and pushed her chair back in place. Her lips drew into a thin line, and she stabbed her hands on her hips, sending a clear message. She was through talking. “I have to get ready.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He surrendered, knowing he’d been defeated.

“I hope we’re stopping by your apartment so you can clean up before we go to the park.”

“I will if you won’t call me Teddy.”

“James Theodore is a perfectly good name. What’s your problem?”

“That’s the deal.” He stood and grinned down at her, determined to win at least one argument. “Take it or leave it.”

“I’ll take it.” She fanned the air between them. “Is that smell coming from you?”

“No doubt. We should go as soon as Elva gets here to babysit Mama. Lunch is at one.”

J.T. poured a fresh cup of coffee and carried it outside to wait while Nana dressed. He wandered over to his grandmother’s favorite chair next to her flower garden. Maybe the fresh air would weaken the odors from the bar that had permeated his skin. The smell of smoke, sweat, alcohol, and puke soaked through your clothes and your flesh absorbed them. No shower or clean clothes would get the stench from his nostrils or his memory.

Last night, his mother had put on one hell of a show when he’d walked in the bar. She’d jumped out of her chair, run to him, and then thrown her arms around him. Her performance had been a ruse. She’d quickly whispered in his ear how she was too young to have a kid his age. She’d insisted he go along with her when she introduced him to a couple of bikers as her younger brother. The entire charade had been a vain attempt to hide her age. Hide it? She looked closer to seventy-two than fifty-two. Her sallow skin coated with makeup and smudged red lipstick gave her a ghoulish appearance. The stale smell of body odor and urine coming off her had slammed into his senses and brought back memories he wanted to forget.

The trip to Nana’s had been exhausting and exasperating. He’d called a taxi and then he’d alerted his grandmother they were coming. Caring for a drunk put a huge strain on a person, and J.T. worried about his grandmother. His biggest fear was the aftermath and if she’d recover from her broken heart when his mother left again.

At least Elva was around during the day to be his eyes. Once again, he’d stand by while Nana tried to reform his mother. Once again, Mama would take advantage of the one person who’d protect and give in to her. Years ago, he learned change couldn’t be forced on another person, and his mother was no exception.

He dreaded seeing Leigh today, dreaded the pity in her eyes. Dreaded saying the words he feared would end their relationship.
Stop.
Refusing to feel or deal with emotions, he pushed them to the back of his mind.

****

Saturday, May 8, 11:45 p.m.

The tension in Leigh’s neck eased when a car pulled into a parking spot next to hers. Ethan would’ve been crushed had J.T. changed his mind about coming.

Sex with him had been wonderful, but the episode with his mother had been on Leigh’s mind since he’d ushered a woman into a taxi and Leigh had driven away. She’d been unable to sleep. Her thoughts moved back and forth between remembering his hands on her body to the hurt in his eyes when he spoke of his mother.

“He’s here.” Ethan jumped to his feet. His voice reverberated through the park.

Leigh grabbed him by the back of his shirt and kept him from going airborne.

“Ethan, everybody knows your new best friend has arrived.” Leigh’s dad chuckled. “Take my hand, kiddo. Let’s go greet him properly.”

J.T. waved, walked around to the passenger’s side, and then helped out an older woman.

“Holy cow,” her mother whispered. “Even in jeans and a pullover, he’s beautiful.”

“Mother.” Leigh playfully scolded.

“How’d it go last night?”

“What?”

“You left my house to go out with him. So?”

“I can’t believe you asked such a question.” Leigh put both hands on her cheeks as if she could hold off the blood rushing to her face or the smile spreading across her face.

“Why wouldn’t I ask? He’s drop-dead gorgeous. And look—” Her voice turned syrupy. “He’s kind to his grandmother.”

Leigh remained at the picnic table, determined not to rush to J.T.’s side. She refused to act like a groupie. Her heart stuttered when Ethan extended his arms. His little face turned up to his hero. She held her breath, watching closely. How J.T. treated her son meant more to her than he could imagine.

He lifted Ethan in the air, tossed him over his head, and settled him on his shoulder. The small woman next to J.T. shook hands with everyone including Ethan. She turned, and her gaze locked on Leigh. Without waiting, Mrs. Noble headed straight for the picnic table.

Air rushed from Leigh’s lungs. The older woman’s emerald green eyes twinkled as she approached. A single dimple dug deep in her cheek when she smiled.

“Mrs. Noble.” Leigh warmed to her immediately. “I’m glad you came.”

“So am I. Everyone calls me Nana.” She took Leigh’s hand and patted. “Unless you already have one in your family.”

“Nana it is. I’m Leigh.”

“You’re tall. I like that. You’d better be strong if you’re going to hold your own with Te...”

“Nana,” J.T. interrupted. “Come sit in the shade and watch us play football. Unless you want to quarterback.” He swung Ethan down to his side. “You used to have a good arm.”

“I’ll be fine right here with Sara and Leland.”

“Looks like Leigh will have to call the plays.” J.T. offered his hand to her.

She welcomed the jolt of heat as he tugged her to the open area in the park. His dimple winked, and his gaze softened. He squeezed her hand, sending her heart into its cartwheel thing. They’d talk about the dynamics of him and his mother later today. Leigh was coming off a fitful night because of his reaction to his mother. Her alcoholism was troublesome and something to be considered because of Ethan. Leigh had finally gone to sleep after her heart convinced her brain J.T. was worth taking a chance.

Today they’d enjoy life. Enjoy spending time with her family. Enjoy learning more about him. Enjoy the man she’d opened her heart and body to last night.

Chapter Seventeen

Saturday, May 8, 3:00 p.m.

Shit
. J.T. hated the conversation he was about to initiate. His lunch swirled, moving slowly upward. The fact his heart squeezed with the understanding that Leigh deserved better, convinced him to end this before she was hurt. While Ethan played, J.T. guided her to an empty table, sitting next to her.

“This is probably as close as we’ll get to being alone today. I need to thank you for last night.”

“Thank me?”

Leigh’s cheeks flushed. Her chest and face had turned the same shade when she’d climaxed. Pink was now his favorite color.

“Do you always thank women for having sex with you?” She spoke in low tones, even though Ethan and the family were out of earshot.

“That’s not what I meant.” He slid his arm around her waist. “But speaking of sex, the first part of the night ended way too soon.” Jesus Christ, his sex drive was out of control. In a public place with family on all sides, all he could think about was being inside her and making her cry out in pleasure.

“I agree. To be honest, I’m curious.” Her gaze locked on his and held. “Was last night a one time only thing or what?”

“Leigh.” His stomach bunched. Damn, she didn’t pull her punches. “I’m not the kind of guy you should allow into your life. As you learned last night, my family’s not the typical happy-ever-after bunch.”

Her shoulders stiffened, and her blue eyes turned icy.
Shit.
The last thing he wanted was to piss her off.

“I appreciate your concern. But what’s your family got to do with us having sex?”

“We Nobles hurt people who care about us. We let down the people who love us. It’s in our DNA.”

“Please. You’re saying if you break my heart, it won’t be your fault. We’ll blame genetics?” She seared him all the way to the soles of his shoes with a blue-fire stare.

Damned if he wasn’t tempted to check for blisters.

“You’re nuts if you expect me to buy into this psycho-babble. That’s pure crap,” she said, her tone laden with disgust. “You’re responsible for your actions.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Damn, his feet were rooted to the ground. His normally quick mind drew a blank. “I’m a high risk.”

“Getting out of bed is a risk. Life is a risk.”

“Leigh, I...” He couldn’t—wouldn’t walk away. He hadn’t been this fucked up over a woman since he was sixteen. And that ended badly after his mother showed up at school drunk needing money.

“Why are you here?”

“I wish the hell I knew. There’s a difference in what I want and what’s best for you.” He studied her face, memorizing every inch of creamy, soft skin.

“I don’t appreciate other people deciding what’s best for me.” Her eyes moistened.

Fuck.
As a reward for doing a shitty job of explaining, his stomach knotted and churned. She blinked rapidly and turned her gaze toward Ethan, who’d run to the swings. Thankfully, he appeared to be oblivious to their conversation.

“Please don’t cry.”

“Do
not
misunderstand.” She spoke through narrowed lips. “I have a bad habit of crying when I get mad, and then I get pissed at myself for being weak.”

“I wasn’t trying to piss you off. I’m telling you how it is.”

“I’m not sure you know what
it is.”

“Like I said last night, my mother’s a drunk.” He spit out the words. “A-fall-down-in-the-street—sometimes she doesn’t recognize me—never-to-be-recovered-lush.”

“You’re not your mother. Alcoholism happens in the best of families.” Her words were rapid fire, clipped and sharp as a scalpel.

His chest squeezed, registering her words. Then hope hit him. Hard. She hadn’t lumped him into the same category as his mother. But maybe Leigh didn’t understand how hard this disease was on a family.

“We’re not talking about your run-of-the-mill alcoholic family. She’s exactly like her father, and their blood runs through my veins. She’s an alcoholic who dumped me on her mother’s doorstep when I was seven. She drifted in and out when she got in trouble or was broke. One day I discovered that she could come or go, because it didn’t matter to me anymore.”