Primal Force (23 page)

Their grins were friendly but Jori saw the momentary struggle as those hands locked in contest. They were nearly the same height but Kieran was built leaner. Kieran shared Jori's open face and easy smile yet his gaze was nearly an even match with Law's in steely determination.

“Army?”

“Ranger.” Kieran jutted out his jaw. “Two tours.”

Law nodded. “Afghanistan. Three tours. I lost the last time.”

Kieran's gaze dropped to the dog Law petted with his left hand, noted the canine's vest, and moved on to Jori, who was blushing. “Not where it counts.”

“Jori?”

She turned toward that bewildered voice. “Daddy!”

“Hi, Kitten.” He pulled her close to him, mercilessly crushing his boutonniere. “Finally listened to your mother, huh?”

“Mostly.” She stared at her father, a slightly shorter, grayer version of her brother. “You look good, Dad.”

“You look better.” He palmed her head and kissed the crown of her hair and then held out a hand to Law. “Time for introductions later. Right now everybody grab a seat so we can get this party started.”

The ceremony was short and sweet. Kieran and Kaitlyn looked like everyone's idea of the topper on a wedding cake. His grin revealed a man so proud and happy, he was about to bust his studs. And she, all blushing teary bride in a simple elegant gown, had eyes only for her new husband.

Jori kept her eyes on them, ignoring the shocked, round-eyed glances of the maid of honor. There'd be time to deal with Erin Tice later.

 

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Law stood back from the other guests at the reception, observing. No one seemed to mind that, an hour after the nuptials, they were still waiting for the arrival of the bride and groom.

Samantha sat beside him, nudging her head under his hand from time to time as they waited for Jori. Law petted her, the rhythmic action soothing the tension of exposure. Jori had said she wanted to speak privately with her parents, but Law suspected she just needed to catch her breath. He couldn't blame her.

Crowds made him edgy. The large Crystal Ballroom had too many exits and windows. The music was too loud. The laughter was too high-pitched. And the food. The mountains of what was probably delicious, expensively arranged gourmet fare—still untouched—reminded him of a Kandahar province food bazaar. The aromas made him slightly nauseated. He was way out of his comfort zone. If not for Jori, he would be long gone.

Finally, he saw her. She paused in the doorway, her eyes roaming the group, searching. God, he hoped it was for him. And then he remembered. She had yet to face all these people who, for him, were like so many bleating sheep. No way would he let her run the gauntlet of curious stares alone.

He moved quickly and quietly along the perimeter of the room, his discomfort at being bumped and jostled by other bodies forgotten. He wasn't sentimental. He'd never understood other guys in his unit getting all moony-eyed over face time with their girls or wives. But the sight of Jori standing proud but uncertain got to him. This wasn't about him. This was about keeping her strong, and watching her back.

Jori felt all eyes on her as she stepped into the Crystal Ballroom. Even looking directly ahead, she could see some of the guests elbow others to draw their attention her way.

“This sucks.”

Jori glanced sideways at Law, who had stepped up behind her. He placed a hand on the small of her back and urged her forward. “Let's get this over with.”

She knew he didn't like being on display, either. “I'm sorry.”

“You should be.” He slanted a glance down at her as they moved into the throng of guests and toward the champagne fountain. “I know I look good in this tux but I didn't think I'd cause a scene.”

Jori choked on her laughter and misstepped. But Law was there, a strong arm around her waist. “How about some champagne?”

Jori nodded. She could use a little liquid courage at the moment.

Erin must have been waiting for her. As soon as she and Law had snagged glasses of champagne, Erin floated up to them in a bridesmaid dress a little shorter and a little better-fitted than any of the other attendants'. Her hair was cut in long layers in shades of blond from champagne to butter, gold, and honey. A marathoner, she was toned, lithe, and tan.

In purely female fashion, Erin gave Jori a down–up glance, assessing her critically. “Wow, Jori. That is you. You're the last person I expected to see today. How are you?”

“Peachy, Erin. And you know what they say about bad pennies.”

Erin frowned, as if not familiar with the cliché. “I almost didn't recognize you.” She touched one of Jori's curls. “You were blond last time I saw you.”

“But you're still the same.” Jori let her puzzle on that for a second. She might have known, Erin's attention didn't stay on her. She was now looking up at Law with a flirtatious smile.

“I'm Erin Tice, Luke Tice's wife.” She held out a slender hand that barely seemed capable of managing the chunk of diamond that was her engagement ring.

“Lauray Battise.” Law engulfed her hand in his much larger one. She practically purred.

“And what do you do, Lauray Battise?”

“State trooper, ma'am.”

Jori saw Erin wince at his use of
ma'am
but she recovered quickly. She turned to Jori. “I didn't know you still required an official escort to functions these days.”

“She doesn't.” Law waited until Erin glanced back at him. “I'm screwing her three ways from Sunday. And, yes, she's that good in bed. So I'd do just about anything for more. Including coming here.”

Erin's mouth fell open. So did Jori's.

“Well, hello.” Luke Tice had appeared out of the crowd and put an arm around the waist of his wife. With his commonplace handsomeness and a politician's assuredness that he would be a welcome addition, he offered Law a big grin. “Hey there.”

Erin, who had been staring at Law like he was a cross between Chris Hemsworth and Darth Vader, cleared her throat as she glanced her husband's way. “Luke, I'd like you to meet—”

“No introductions necessary, Erin.” Luke grinned like a big kid. “I know who this is. Trooper Battise, right? Saw your picture in the
Democrat-Gazette
the other day.” He offered his hand. “You have my heartfelt gratitude for your service and sacrifice to our country.”

A floating photographer began taking pictures as the two men shook hands. It was the cue for Luke to continue. “This man's a bona fide hero, Erin, a decorated veteran. Lost a leg in Afghanistan. But that hasn't stopped him, no sir. This past Thursday, Erin, he stopped a robbery in progress in Springdale and then outran the fleeing robber. On one good leg. The video of it is amazing.” Luke reached up to pat Law's shoulder. “This is a real American hero.” He spoke loud enough that all nearby could hear. “What brings you to Eureka Springs, Trooper Battise? In need of a little R and R?”

“I'm here with Jori Garrison.”

Law reached out to snag Jori by the waist, just as Luke had done his wife. “She's asked me to look into the events surrounding her incarceration.” He felt Jori stiffen beside him but ignored it. “I might have a few questions for you at some later date, Mr. Tice. We are, after all, celebrating tonight.”

Luke's eyes narrowed on Jori for a microsecond before slipping back into political mode. “Right.” His gaze shifted to Jori and away then back, as if he couldn't decide if by looking too long he might imply something unwholesome. “Glad to see you looking so well, Jori.” He held out his hand.

Jori forced herself to smile but she wasn't about to shake hands in a staged photo op with the man who'd helped put her in prison. “Hello, Luke.”

Luke glanced at the photographer and smiled. “I understand. I'm probably not your favorite person. But in all fairness, I was junior counsel and only doing my job. You've paid your dues and I'm hearing great things about how you've turned your life around. See, I do keep up. I always thought you were a decent person who took a momentary wrong turn. You're now working as a trainer for Warriors Wolf Pack. Am I right?”

“Yes.” Jori let the word hang as Law's hand moved from her waist up to her shoulder. The implication:
Take it easy.
But she was out of the cage of wanting to simply be left alone. Now she wanted, no, needed answers. And she wasn't going to play nice to get them. But Luke was still talking.

“So then you'll be happy to hear that I've been talking to my dad about Tice Industries making a sizable contribution to so worthy a cause. Training dogs to look after our wounded vets. Can't think of a more noble aspiration. Glad to know you're part of it. We here in northwest Arkansas take care of our own.”

Jori felt as if she were going to choke. He was using her to make political points with the reporter who had joined the photographer.

“I'd like to talk with you, Luke.” Law moved one aggressive inch toward the politician. “I can call you Luke?”

“Absolutely. Call my office and we'll get you set up. Always a pleasure to talk with a veteran.”

“Privately would suit me better. You, too, probably.”

Luke stared for a second then glanced around, seeking an out. “Ah, that'll be my aide looking for me. You'll have to excuse me. Jori, Trooper Battise, a pleasure.” Not waiting to see what Erin might do, Luke pulled her along with him.

The minute they were abandoned by the photographer and reporter, who trailed after the candidate, Jori turned on Law. Her voice was low but full of heat. “Oh my God. I can't believe you said that about me to Erin. My reputation is ruined.”

He glanced down at her, his cop face in place. But there was a glint of gold in that implacable stare. “What reputation?”

As always, his raw brand of honesty carried a punch. This time it punched a breath of laughter out of her. He was right. At this point, what else did she have to lose? As long as her parents never heard about his remark. “What happened to cool and professional?”

“Shock and awe.” Law steered her toward a more private corner of the room. “It's a cop tactic, too. I wanted to rattle her. I also made her jealous as hell.”

Jori crossed her arms to keep him from taking her hand. “What makes you think that?”

Law's mouth stretched just short of the smile as he reached out to entangle his fingers in the lacing at her waist. “I might not know much about social graces. But I know when a woman's coming on to me.”

Jori's eyes widened. But then, how could she be surprised? Erin always wanted to be the center of all men's attention. It seemed as if marriage hadn't changed that.

Law lightly pinched her elbow and nodded in another direction. “Friend of yours?”

Jori turned to the group of people her age casting glances in their direction. One of them, a redhead, waved. Jori looked away. Her nerve had completely deserted her. She just hoped Law wouldn't notice how rattled she was.

“Chelsea Bennett. We were once friends.”

“Then let's go over there and let her be your friend now. You need one.”

He had noticed.

Half an hour later, as the guests drank and waited for the bride and groom to appear at their reception, Jori had had enough. Even though her friends were being nice, the strain of them not asking where she'd been or what she'd been doing made everyone's smile brittle and the conversation as stilted as if English were not the first language for any of them.

Law was just plain furious. He wanted to wad the group into a ball and drop-kick them into Beaver Lake. He couldn't for the life of him understand why Jori had cared so much what any of them thought about her. None of them had half her character or courage. But then, he supposed, it must be about her parents. She cared for their sake. So he'd remain on his best behavior as long as Erin Tice stayed away from him.

Finally the bride and groom appeared.

Jori and Law took seats at her parents' table to eat and listen to speeches, some heartfelt, others hopelessly inept, and then watched the cutting of the cake. Jori was pleased to hear her father's calm voice chatting with Law from time to time. She didn't know what her father said but Law seemed to relax and respond with more than his famous one-word answers. Maybe he was enjoying himself. Or maybe he was just doing it for her. Either way, she was grateful.

Her mother, on the other hand, seemed to be trying to cram six months' worth of gossip and family news into their first chat. Jori couldn't help being a little overwhelmed by the sheer energy of her mother's enthusiasm. But it also felt better to be face-to-face with her than avoiding her. She'd been wrong to do that. Even if, she realized, she was going to have to limit her exposure to all that joy. A lunch here, a dinner there, sprinkled out over weeks. Little measurable dips into the family pool until she was comfortable with full immersion.

She loved her parents dearly. But they were seeing her as the daughter she had been four years ago, just finishing college, not yet on her own. She could hear it in the way they talked to her. For them she was still a woman-child who wasn't quite ready to launch. But she wasn't that person anymore. She was different. Not bad different, just different enough that their experiences of the world no longer matched. She was going to have to give them time and exposure to learn the new her. And accept it.

A couple of times she caught her brother's eye from where he sat with his bride at their private table. Each time he winked then rolled his eyes. He understood.

*   *   *

Law had waited for his moment to talk with Erin Tice. It came at the end of the evening. Jori had wandered away to find the ladies' room. So he was, for the moment, on his own. His stump throbbed. He'd been standing too long on a prosthesis that didn't fit as well as it once had. When he moved, his limp was more pronounced. He was going to ache all night. Or not. Maybe he'd bury all his troubles in the sweet warmth of Jori and his pain would no longer rule his dreams. Something to look forward to. That was a novelty, and a welcome one.