Runaway Vegas Bride / Vegas Two-Step. Liz Talley

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СКАЧАТЬ barely managed to stop herself as Wyatt clamped a hand down on hers. She took a breath, trying to think up some brazen lies of her own she might tell, but honestly, when was hitting an old man ever justified?

      “It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t do anything to me. And I’ve never hit an old man in my life. I’ve never hit anyone…”

      Except Wyatt.

      He gave her a nod that said, Well done, Jane.

      “I have no trouble believing the last part,” Ms. Steele agreed, yet still seemed troubled.

      “I am so sorry about this whole mix-up.” Jane tried sounding her most earnest. “I strive to never cause trouble for anyone, and I’m sure Wyatt does, too. I’ve apologized profusely for giving him a black eye—”

      “And I, of course, have forgiven her completely,” he jumped in. “Knowing that it was most definitely unintentional on her part. So there’s really no problem here.”

      With that, he got to his feet and urged Jane to do the same, as if his pronouncement that there was no problem was all that was needed to clear up this whole thing.

      Jane smiled hopefully in Ms. Steele’s direction, then did as Wyatt wanted and walked out the door ahead of him.

      As he followed her, she could hear Ms. Steele call out to him, “We’re not done with this, Mr. Gray.”

       Chapter Six

      Wyatt thought they both deserved a drink after that little scene in Ms. Steele’s office, and Jane, looking like she was still figuring out how her no-doubt neat, orderly life had come to this, let him steer her quite easily to the dark, quiet bar across the street. He set a drink in front of her before she ever uttered the first word of protest, and then she just sat there, looking bewildered, embarrassed and a little sad.

      He really didn’t want to make Jane sad.

      “Why was Ms. Steele so sure this was all your uncle’s fault?” she finally asked.

      Wyatt frowned, wondering if he could bring himself to do the old denial-and-downplay routine with her.

      No, he couldn’t.

      “Leo tends to…shake things up wherever he goes,” he began, then had to admit that was definitely downplaying. “Actually, Jane, he chases after women like a man who’s been celibate for years—which I’m sure he’d tell you feels like a reasonable equivalent of being married and faithful to one woman for the previous eleven years. And now that aunt Millicent is gone, he seems to feel the need to make up for lost time. He doesn’t just go after one woman at a time. This thing with your grandmother and your aunt—I’m afraid it’s not unusual at all for him. This is the norm.”

      She shook her head, disbelieving. “He’s eighty-six!”

      “I know. I keep hoping he’ll get too tired for all of this, but so far…he hasn’t even slowed down. He’s been kicked out of three retirement homes, bringing complete chaos to the places. Women who’ve lived together happily for years suddenly turn on each other, when he favors one over the other, no matter how brief his attention span.”

      “He can’t live by himself?” she suggested.

      “He probably could, but he won’t. You know how favorable the ratio of men to women is in these places. He thinks a retirement park is a paradise for men. And nothing I’ve said to him has been able to change him in any way. If he gets kicked out of Remington Park, I don’t know what I’ll do with him,” Wyatt admitted. “And I’m truly sorry for any problems he might cause between your aunt and your grandmother.”

      “I love them so much,” Jane said. “They make me crazy, but I just adore them.”

      “Yeah, I feel the same way about Leo. He was more of a father to me than my real father was. I mean, my father’s not a bad guy or anything like that. He’s just…well, he was more interested in his own life than mine. But Leo always took the time to look out for me, guide me, explain things to me. He was there if I needed help. I’d do anything for him.”

      “There should be some kind of pill to make men faithful,” Jane said.

      “If there was, Leo wouldn’t take it.”

      “Well, I still feel like I have to apologize to him,” she repeated. “I did take a swing at him, after all.”

      “I’m not sure he deserves an apology—”

      “No, I have to. What I did was wrong, and I always apologize when I’m wrong.”

      “Okay.” Wyatt nodded. “If you insist.”

      “I do. Will you come with me? Sometime tomorrow?”

      “Of course.”

      They went to Leo’s cottage, but he wasn’t there.

      Jane was a little afraid where they might find him and what he might be doing, but she was determined not to lose her good manners around him, at least not anymore. She felt oddly like her life could be on the verge of spinning off into complete chaos at any moment. How could that possibly have happened?

      She couldn’t blame it entirely on the Gray men. Her own behavior had been erratic, at best, and Jane preached that men could not make women crazy. Women allowed themselves to be crazy over men, but men could not force that kind of irrational behavior upon anyone. No one could. A woman was responsible for her own behavior at all times. She had to own her own decisions, her actions, her words, and Jane’s had been abominable.

      She and Wyatt walked into Gram and Gladdy’s cottage.

      Amy was in the kitchen, stirring something on the stove and baking something that smelled luscious. Leo Gray stood beside her. They both turned as the front door opened and Jane thought Amy looked particularly uncomfortable at the moment.

      Jane frowned, whispering to Wyatt urgently. “He wouldn’t hit on someone Amy’s age. Would he?”

      “I don’t think so,” Wyatt said. “But she doesn’t look happy to have him here. Or maybe it’s us. Maybe she thinks she’s going to witness another scuffle.”

      Oh, Lord! He was probably right. Amy, sweet, kind, quiet little Amy, whom Jane wanted to help become a chef, had surely heard about Jane freaking out and attacking Leo Gray. Amy was looking at Jane like Jane had grown three heads.

      “I will never live this down,” she muttered.

      “Come on,” Wyatt said, putting a supportive hand at the small of her back and steering her to the kitchen. “Chin up. Smile. Be confident, gracious, polite. All the things I know you are, Jane. Put this behind you and move on.”

      “No. They all know.” It wasn’t her imagination. There were three little old ladies in the common area of the cottage, all staring at Jane like they’d never seen her before. “I’m infamous at Remington Park as the crazy woman who attacks old men with her briefcase!”

      “Nonsense. One little slip does not a crazy woman make,” Wyatt insisted.

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