Page 26 of Accidentally Marrying the Prisoner
“How do you know them?” Conrad asks as the rest of the women sit with Dolly and Goldie, still keeping an eye on us.
“My Aunt Faye—she’s actually my mom’s cousin—has worked with most of them at Granny’s Diner.” The gray double-wide trailer where the diner is located is one of those that you’d miss if you didn’t know it was there, tucked away on a back road, with only a small banner that says GRANNY’S. It’s a county gem where Mom, Dad, and I used to have breakfast every Saturday until he passed. Now it’s just the two of us—when Mom isn’t hiding from me, of course. “Remind me to take you there sometime.”
“Already been, once or twice. Best pancakes ever,” Conrad says, giving the Granny’s Girls a nod that they don’t return.
“One hundred percent,” I say, then lick the salty rim of my margarita glass. Yum.
“Princess,” Conrad growls, not at all concerned about the menacing group. “Don’t you dare.”
The largest, scariest of the men, Elliott, with a silver beard and tattoos creeping up his neck and over his brows, suddenly steps out of the darkest shadow beneath a broken exterior floodlight. I hadn’t known he was there, and an icy shiver runs down my spine. He’s the one I’m least familiar with, but he has a reputation that leaves everyone, including me, wary of him and his rumored collection of shovels and hellhounds.
Conrad’s body language doesn’t change as he eyes the silver giant. My husband might be a little shorter and much leaner than Elliott, but he’s stacked with muscles and has been to prison. He could probably hold his own in a fight if things were to turn ugly. But I only sayprobably, because Elliott has been to prison, too, and it certainly wasn’t as cozy as the one where Conrad and my dad did their time.
Thankfully, I don’t have to worry, since the woman with raven-black hair and platform combat boots steps in front of Elliott, redirecting her husband’s cold, predatory gaze. There’s a vibe about his wife, Teagan, that scares me more than Elliott, despite her being the shortest and newest of all the group. Elliott visibly softens, bending almost entirely in half to kiss her. Mission accomplished.
Several of my group’s jaws drop with shock, considering Elliott looks like he’s old enough to be his wife’s father, if not older.
“I’ve heard some crazy rumors about those big boys down at Berenson Trucking,” Keagan says, flicking his gaze to the terrifying giant and back again.
Conrad nods and cracks his neck. “So have I.”
“So you know not to get on their bad side,” Keagan warns. “Heard their wives are just as bad, if not worse.”
“Yep, so you need to behave,” I tell Conrad with a smirk. I tip my glass to take the first sip of my margarita, only to freeze before the alcohol ever touches my tongue. Conrad got into my head, and now I can’t enjoy my drink because, what if, by some freakish miracle, I am pregnant? “Godfreakingdammit, Conrad, you bossy, geriatric?—”
“Geriatric,” Conrad interrupts with a snort.
“Son of a biscuit and royal pain in my ass,” I finish saying, setting my margarita down hard on the table, crossing my arms, and sulking.
One of the bears with a bushy brown beard, Wyatt, booms with laughter, and Dolly giggles even as she covers her mouth, gently slapping her husband’s large stomach with the back of her hand.
“Whew, she’s got a mouth on her,” Jorge’s wife, Carmel, says, her two long, dark brown Dutch braids swinging forward as she leans toward me from across the table. “I knew I liked you the minute we met, girly.”
“Me too,” Conrad says, pushing my drink away, squeezing me extra tight to kiss my temple. “Thank you.”
“Yeah, well, I—” I start to sayI don’t like you, but that would be a lie, even if I am miffed that I’ve ended up in this position, married and possibly impregnated by a total stranger who’s somehow even bossier than Merlin.Frickin’ gingers.
A woman inside whoops as a guard I recognize from the prison spins her around and around the U-shaped dance floor inside. I lean this way and that until the crowd parts briefly enough for me to get a good look at the couple, and then I see it—the big, ashy-blonde blowout waves that fly up around the woman’s face.
I shove up onto my feet and yell, “Mom!”
Mom and the guard, Garth, halt abruptly, dressed to the nines in coordinating black-and-turquoise western attire. So cute!
I point my finger at Mom as I step over the bench and yell, “You’ve got some explaining—Hey! Get back here!” I take off running as soon as Mom grabs Garth’s hand, and they sprint toward the exit at the front of the barn-turned-dance-hall. I make it through the hall and out the front just in time to see Mom at the wheel, gunning the engine of her bright yellow 1970 Ford Mustang.
“See ya, wouldn’t wanna be ya!” Mom yells with her hand thrown out the car window to wave. She flies by so fast that it ruffles the bottom of my short, floral sundress.
I spin around when Conrad asks from behind, “That the woman who bought the custom maple furniture?”
“Yup,” Sam answers from beside him. “That your new mother-in-law?”
“Yessiree,” my husband says, looking stupid sexy in his backwards baseball cap.
“What furniture?” I ask Sam with my hands on my hips. “How do you know my mom?”
Sam laughs instead of answering, and I turn on my heel, stomping my boots the whole way to the Beetle. When I get there, I throw my hands up with a growl and turn right back around, stomping even harder. “Keys,” I say to Conrad, holding my hand palm up.
Instead of giving them to me, he scoops me up and shouts a goodbye to his coworkers when we pass them on the way to my car. No one steps forward to intervene, the Granny’s Girls breaking out into raucous laughter. Apparently, Conrad thinking he can tell me what I can or cannot drink crosses their line, but when it comes to himkidnappingme, it’s totally fine, and no one bats an eye. Just great.
