Lost in Tennessee (46 page)

Kate frowned, her brows pressed together in confusion. “Where are we going?”

“To the hospital, honey. You just rest, everything is going to be fine.” Butch let go of her hand as they rolled her into the ambulance. He went to where Jeb crouched over Trudy’s body. Jeb’s face was an unreadable mask, but Butch felt Jeb’s loss as real as his own. “You tried to get her to shoot you.”

Jeb nodded. “Didn’t work. I didn’t think she would shoot you.”

“She didn’t. I just got in the way.” Butch looked down at his arm. “It’s not much more than a scratch. I’m sorry you had to do that. I’m sorry you had to be the one to stop her.”

Jeb looked down at Trudy’s face, so serene in death it was hard to believe what she was in life. “Yep. I’m sorry, too, for all the good that does any of us.” Jeb walked away from the body.

Something about it felt to Butch like Jeb walked away from him, too. Butch rubbed his throbbing arm as he walked to the ambulance. “Clyde, if that’s what you think, you’ve got another think coming.” He climbed into the ambulance, sat, and took Kate’s hand in his. “Now about this wedding…”

Chapter Twenty-Four

T
he October sun shone down on the happy couple as they stood under the arbor and exchanged their vows. In Kate’s mind, she’d been married to Butch for nearly four months now, but if he wanted a fancy party, who was she to deny him? He was handsome in a charcoal suit that matched his eyes. Kate’s fingers itched to slip through his wild, untamed hair.

She looked around the courtyard of their home, the one they had built together. Today it was filled with family and friends. Kate cried when her father and uncle walked her down the aisle. She felt the tear on her father’s cheek as he kissed her and put her hand in Butch’s for the keeping. Tom stoically took on the role as her “man of honor.” She had persuaded him by telling him there was no one she would want to stand for her except him. When she promised he wouldn’t be in a dress or have to do the “girly” things, he had agreed, nearly breaking her ribs when he hugged her.

Jeb stood somberly next to Butch. At Kate’s smile, he winked and smiled back, taking years off of his face. Trudy’s death had cost Jeb, and he was working off the debt. He left the sheriff’s department and started a security firm with Butch’s agent, Landon Finch. Chameleon Securities had kept Jeb busy traveling over the past few months, but Butch made sure his brother knew where his home was. Butch had pushed to get Jeb’s wing done first. They had locked themselves in Jeb’s office for a whole afternoon. When they came out, they went to his rooms, and by that evening, Jeb was home.

While the Reverend Marcus’s voice droned on, Kate looked around her and was overcome with love. John and Emily had signed over the old house to Butch, Jeb, and Kate, ensuring their sons would stick this time. One of Emily’s dogs had given birth to a litter of puppies, the largest of which looked the picture of his father, Chubsy. Taylor, the broad-chested black Lab pup, leaned against Kate with unfailing fidelity. At four months old, he was over thirty pounds of unconditional love that rarely left her side. Chubsy sat on her foot, tail wagging. The limp the vet said he would have the rest of his life slowed him down, but he didn’t seem to mind leaving the running for the younger dogs. Hyde sat in the front row, laughing, with his arm around Nurse Betty. They had their own date set for the spring. The Cicada building was open for business, and CEO Chuck Allen had become a local celebrity with his outreach for women. He just signed the papers to have Kate and Tom design a distribution center for him in a distressed county that wanted the jobs every bit as much as Cicada needed workers.

Kate was happy beyond her wildest dreams. And right there in the middle of the ceremony, well before the “I do’s,” Kate rose on her toes, and kissed Butch on the mouth.

Butch wrapped his arms around her and kissed her back. The guests giggled and hollered while Butch tucked Kate under his shoulder and proceeded to marry her. She wept with joy as Butch slid his ring over the finger of her manicured hand and proudly put her ring on him.

Under a painted sky, rich with red and orange and dappled with cotton-candy clouds, Kate laughed as Jeb spun her in a circle and brought her back against his hard body.

“Clyde, this is Tennessee, not West Virginia. You can’t be making a move on your sister, and that’s exactly what she is now that I married her.” Butch grabbed Kate by the waist and spun her in a circle.

A thin smile crossed Jeb’s face and lit his eyes for a quick moment. “Clyde, that’s just sick.” The phone in his pocket vibrated. Jeb absently pulled it out to check the text message. He frowned.

“What is it?” Butch asked.

“An old friend. I have to take this.” Jeb left the couple to their guests and disappeared into the lower level of the east wing of the house as the band took a break and Butch’s latest CD was put on.

Butch pulled Kate tight against him. “You’re too good for me. Four top-ten songs all inspired by you.”

Kate rolled her eyes. “You could write some nice ones about me. ‘Stinkball Shotgun?’”

“That’s a nice song about a girl who gets what she wants. It’s especially popular in Texas, I hear.”

She threw her head back and laughed. “What about ‘In the Hay Loft?’ And ‘Chicken Surprise’ is definitely not nice.”

A voice behind Butch cleared. “Do you think an old man can get a dance with his best girl?”

B
utch spun Kate and saw Jeb sneak out of the courtyard. “Absolutely.” Butch delivered Kate into her father’s hands, kissed his wife, and went after this brother.

“Sneaking out of my wedding? You know there isn’t going to be a next one. You miss this one, you’re out of luck.” The wind blew Butch’s long curly hair around his face.

“You mess up this one, and I’ll have to attend your funeral after Katie kills you.” Jeb stopped and looked into his brother’s eyes. “Don’t mess up.”

Butch saw the pain in his brother’s eyes—eyes which threatened that something cold and painful lurked behind the chiseled face. Butch worried about Jeb. He locked what happened that day on the pier inside an icy core, possibly for forever. Here at the new house with Kate and Tom, he saw glimpses of the man that was his brother, and that gave him hope.

“I won’t.” Butch smiled, high on life. “She won’t let me. Pushy woman. Where are you going?”

“Helping a friend.”

“You have a vest on. Do you have help yourself?”

Jeb climbed into the truck. “I just need to check on his little sister. I’m taking the chopper. I’ll be back tomorrow. Next day at the latest. Tell Katie I love her.”

Butch grinned at his brother. “The hell I will. Get your ass back here, and tell her yourself.”

Butch trotted back into the courtyard a happy man. He snuck up on Kate as she chatted with his mother’s church group and nibbled her neck. He breathed in her scent. “The smell of wild strawberries always makes me so damned hungry. Come with me, Mrs. McCormick. I want to show you something.”

Katie playfully held back, giving her apologies to her guests as he tugged her. “I think I’ve already seen that show, Mr. McCormick.”

“Little woman, are you going to come peaceful-like?” Butch lowered his eyes and growled at her mockingly.

“I told you. I’m not the little-woman type.” Kate giggled, dancing around Butch, playing hard to get.

Butch grinned. “I was hoping we’d do this the hard way.” Butch shouldered his bride and ran into their wing of the house, nudging their dogs aside and locking the door firmly behind him. Once up the stairs, he threw her onto the bed and tossed the long skirt up.

Kate laughed as satin and lace covered her face.

“You have boots on.”

“What else is a girl going to wear on her wedding day?” Kate tugged off her panties and rolled on top of Butch. With eager hands, she stripped him down to skin. Her long fingernails, painted white and trimmed with sparkles, teased over his tense muscles. She took her time, tasting him, savoring every line, every valley, every plane. “You have something for me, Mr. McCormick?”

Butch moaned with blessed torture and fitted her over him. He wanted to remember the sight of her this way forever: her face as flushed as her dark red hair, the swell of her breasts pushing at the sculpted dress, and that look on her face.

“Wait.” He reached across the bed for his coat. He fished in his pocket and pulled out his phone.

Kate sat up straight. “You’re calling someone? Now?”

Butch worked the touch screen and took her picture. “Put that sexy look back on your face. Yeah, that’s the one.”

Kate swirled her hips and teased him until he couldn’t see straight. Butch tossed the camera aside and grabbed her hips with hard fingers, taking control of the situation. He drove up hard and fast, showing no mercy when her body convulsed over his. He wrapped his arms around her body and thrust into her until he exploded, filling her.

They lay locked together, both unwilling to have any distance between them. As the heat of sex wore off, Kate propped herself up and looked down into her husband’s eyes. She kissed his chin and sighed. “I love you.”

Butch ran his thumb along her jaw. “I know you do. I love you, too. You’re everything to me.”

“I believe you. I feel it.” Kate kissed him gently, deeply, showing how much he meant to her. “We should get back before people think we’ve gotten lost.”

Butch rolled with his wife, pinning her under his body. He moved his hips in a slow, languid rhythm that had her mewing like a kitten. “We’re not lost, Katie. We’re found, and I’m going to stay found with you forever.”

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Acknowledgments

Thank you to the many talented and patient people who helped bring Butch and Katie to life. Thanks to Kristen for teaching this city girl about farming, to Mitch from North Wells Service Center for helping me hobble Kate’s Shelby, and to Laura Stone for bringing out the Southern charm in this story. Thank you to Kyra, Kristen, Anna, Sue, and Michelle for being the first to read my story and giving me the courage to go public. Thank you to my mother, Jane, and my aunt, Barbara, for your constant love and support. Thank you, reader, for spending your time with me. I first wrote this to entertain myself—to laugh, to daydream, to escape. Now I entrust it to you, hoping it lightens your day and brings a smile to your face.

About the Author

Anita DeVito
is a Cleveland, Ohio, native who grew up on a diet of mysteries, rock-n-roll, and her nonna’s homemade pasta. By day, she works as a Civil Engineer unraveling the mysteries of water challenges, while by night, she applies her talents to the vexing question of “Who dunnit?” Visit Anita’s website at
www.AnitaDeVitoWrites.com
for more information on her fast-paced style of storytelling and to sign up for her news-less newsletter, Equinoxious. Start every season with short stories, games, puzzles, and some brain teasing fun. Anita lives with her husband, two sons, and two ornery dogs.

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