Jake watched as she went white. Anger raged through him like a fast-moving forest fire. He’d like nothing more than to drop-kick Dad into next week!
Lucinda held her breath. She recognized the cold fury in Jake’s eyes, in the set of his jaw, and half-expected him to tear the phone from her hand. Instead, he stalked to the far side of the kitchen and, taking a mug from the cupboard, poured a fresh cup of coffee.
When he held it out toward her, she pantomimed pouring cream into it. He grinned, shook his head and mouthed, “We don’t have any.”
Grimacing, she held out her hand. Coffee was coffee, and she definitely needed some. Jake had left his shirt unbuttoned. Talk about a major distraction. She followed the line of dark hair till it disappeared behind the zipped but unbuttoned jeans.
When she raised her gaze, he lifted one brow and smiled wickedly. Damn him! He knew exactly what he was doing to her.
Her father’s voice pulled her back. “Lucinda? You get yourself home right now and get this fiasco cleared up, you hear me?”
“Or what? You’ll disinherit me?”
“I may not need to.” After a slight pause, he asked, “Who is he, anyway?”
“Who?”
“The guy who answered the phone.” Each word was ground out between teeth she imagined were clenched.
“Jake Parker.”
“Who?”
“Jake—”
“I heard you the first time. What the hell are you doing with him?”
“I—he— Do you know him?”
“Girl, you’ve got a big problem. We all do. You need to get yourself back on that highway and get home.”
She closed her eyes, took a deep breath. “You know what, Dad? I’m going to hang up now. I think we’ve covered what we need to. More than.” She flipped the phone shut. Her heart hammered. Oh, boy. She’d never, ever done that. To anyone. Never imagined she would.
But she had. And it felt good.
“Jake—”
“You’re not responsible for anyone but yourself, Lucy. Don’t apologize for him.”
“But—”
He shook his head.
“Do you know my father?”
“I’m starvin’. How about you?”
“You’re changing the subject.”
“Luce, from what I heard, your dad’s a jerk. Let it go. And, yeah, I am changin’ the subject. To food. I need some.”
She put her hands on her hips. He was hiding something. She knew it. And she would get to the bottom of it. But this was not the time. She smiled at Jake. “Believe it or not, I’m starving too. I haven’t eaten so much in—I’m not sure when.”
“Well, we did one heck of a job yesterday cleaning out the fridge.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “So much so that Old Mother Hubbard’s cupboard is bare. As much as I hate myself for suggestin’ this, why don’t you throw on some clothes?” He wiggled his brows. “We’ll run down to the Blue Moon and grab some grub.”
“The Blue Moon?”
“Yep. Annie Poteet owns it now, and her cooking rivals Mabs’.”
“Give me ten minutes.”
Lucinda closed the bedroom door behind her—and shattered. The reality of what she’d done hit. Hard. Yesterday she’d still been mad. Numb. Last night’s meltdown had been bad, but it had been about the lack in herself. About her bad judgment. About her bad decision to marry Donald in the first place.
This morning, with her father’s call, she truly realized how big a mess she’d made. How many people she had disappointed. She moved to the door. “Jake?”
“Yeah?”
“Would you mind if I lie back down for a bit?”
He stuck his head around the corner, concern on his face. “No. Go ahead. You had a tough day yesterday.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’ll run to the grocery store, pick up a few staples.”
Fighting back tears, she closed the door, then crawled into bed and pulled the covers over her head.
She’d read Gone With the Wind at least a dozen times and had never understood how Scarlett O’Hara could put off making decisions till tomorrow. Well, fiddle-dee-dee. She sure did now.
Jake stuffed his hands into his jeans pockets, staring at the closed bedroom door. Lucy was hurting. Crawling off like an animal to lick its wounds. And there was nothing he could do to help.
He strode back into the kitchen and palmed the phone she’d left on the counter. For too long, he actually considered hitting the last-number-called button and giving her father a piece of his mind.
But it wasn’t his business. Not his place. Jake put the phone back down again.