Page 17 of Sweet Temptation (Honeysuckle, Texas #3)
Garret had to admit, the ladies couldn’t have pulled this off more smoothly had they been professional stuntmen. The coordination was precise and the results… entertaining.
It was at that precise moment, with Brad looking like a Jackson Pollock painting attacked by farm animals, that the unmistakable rumble of a truck echoed from the road, red and blue lights to match his stained clothing beginning their rhythmic flash.
Kicking at the growing menagerie of animals at his heels, and swiping at the syrup sticky mess dripping from his hair, Brad glanced up to see the…
“Tow truck?” His eyes widened in fresh horror as the driver began hooking the truck to his Maserati.
Galloping to the curb, animals, manure, and sticky mess forgotten, he came to a screeching halt by the drive. “That’s my car!”
“Shouldn’t have parked it in a fire lane,” the tow truck driver yelled back calmly.
His head whipping left to where the car should have been and then right to where the tow truck driver connected a hook with his precious car, Brad’s gaze narrowed, the muscle in his jaw twitched and through gritted teeth, he argued, “I’ll pay the ticket. Just unhook it.”
“Sorry sir, you’ll have to deal with the county judge to get your car back.”
Brad fumbled for his wallet and pulled out a hundred dollar bill, waving it at the driver. “Surely we can come to an understanding.”
“Something wrong here?” The sheriff strolled to a stop at the passenger’s side.
“I believe this man,” the driver pointed at Brad, “intends to bribe me into not towing his car.”
“Is he?” The sheriff crossed his arms and stared pointedly at Brad.
Slowly putting his wallet back in his pocket, Brad shook his head. “No, sir. Wouldn’t think of it.”
The sheriff slapped the driver on the back. “You have a good day, Bill.”
“Same to you, Sheriff.”
The officer tipped his hat at the ladies and continued down the sidewalk.
Standing in what had been his parking spot, his gaze lingering on the tail end of his precious car as the rear fender jolted over a bump in the road, even from where he stood, Garret could hear Brad wince, seconds before whirling around to face the three women. “This is all your doing.”
A crisp, legal-sized envelope in hand, Diane waved it at him.
“What’s this?” His gaze focused on the manila envelope much the way he might stare at a rattler about to strike.
“Divorce papers.” Diane’s steadiness, and smile, didn’t falter. Garret didn’t bother to ask what kind of connections the woman had to have the papers drawn up and ready in less than twenty-four hours.
“Diane, sweetie. You don’t mean that. We love each other.”
Her one brow rose high above her eye. “Brad, you wouldn’t have a clue what love was if it bit you in the ass.”
“That’s not true.” He stepped forward as if forgetting his paramours were watching with ringside seats.
Taking a step back, Diane shook her head. “Our prenup was very clear about infidelity. All assets acquired during the marriage—which we both know I paid for anyhow—remain with the faithful party.”
“And that,” Jackie smiled, “would not be you.”
Brad blinked as if suddenly remembering his audience.
“You’ll find our sworn affidavits attesting to your… uh… extracurricular activities in the envelope.” Angela waved in Diane’s direction. “Oh, and I get to keep the ring.”
The blood drained from Brad’s face. He looked to where his beloved car had been parked only moments ago, then down to the manure cementing itself to his thousand-dollar shoes, the vibrant Sno-Cone art decorating his shirt and hair, the divorce papers signaling his financial ruin, and the three women watching him.
The crowd was hushed, phones held aloft.
“You… you set me up.” He finally choked out.
Eleanor Shannon glided forward, adjusting her hat. “Set you up? Heavens no, young man. It simply appears your chickens… or perhaps in this case, your goats… and your Sno-Cones… have come home to roost.” She surveyed the scene. “Quite spectacularly, I might add.”
“So the sheriff wasn’t part of the plan?” Carson asked.
“Nope.” Jackie couldn’t help grinning. “That was sheer dumb luck that he tried to bribe the driver just as the sheriff passed by.”
“My favorite, though,” Jillian bit back a laugh, “was Clint’s perfect aim. I was so worried that Brad would notice the x tape under the straw.”
Jess set the pitcher of sweet tea on the table. “Well, I think y’all did a great job.”
Diane and Angela, having joined the family for a celebratory of sorts dinner, nodded.
“I keep asking myself what I ever saw in him in the first place,” Angela said as she refilled her glass.
“Tell me about it,” Diane echoed.
“Now, none of that.” Alice Sweet stood with a warm blueberry pie in hand. “The man was a skilled scammer. No one’s fault that he charmed everyone.”
“She’s right.” Jackie nodded. It had taken a while for them to put all the pieces together.
Apparently holding down a job long term was not Brad’s strength.
Having a wife with money was more of a necessity for him than a perk.
More than once, Diane had threatened him with divorce if he didn’t straighten up.
Jackie had most likely been nothing more than a fun diversion, but they suspected Angela was his next meal ticket if Diane followed through with her threats.
“I’ve heard of exes becoming friends, but didn’t think it would be this much fun. ”
“Fun,” Garret muttered. “There were a couple of times when I thought for sure the guy was going to retaliate and I’d wind up in jail for manslaughter.”
On the grand scheme of romantic things Jackie had dreamed of hearing, that had not been one of them, and yet, for her, it was the most romantic thing she’d ever heard.
“Don’t look so surprised.” Her grandmother slid a warm slice of pie in front of her. “The boy loves you.”
She glanced over at him. Cheeks slightly flushed, his hands in his pockets, and his gaze locking with hers, he straightened his shoulders, nodded, and Jackie’s heart melted in her chest. Garret Lamar Sweet loved her. Really loved her.