Page 67 of Knockout (Whiskey Dolls 2)

Jude turned and looked down at me just then, wonder, affection, and something else—something that looked like...love, maybe—gleaming in his inky blue eyes. But that couldn’t be right. It was way too soon. Wasn’t it? “Jesus, princess. You undo me,” he muttered, his voice filled with awe.

Before I had a chance to reply—not that I had a clue what I was going to say to that—we were descended upon, and the image that popped into my head was a flock of turkey vultures swooping down on a poor,defensless squirrel. That was exactly what these people looked like. Fortunately, I wasn’t defensless.

Ahead of paunchy cousin Chandler and his trophy wife was a man and woman who looked to be somewhere in their sixties, but given the man’s blank, expressionless face and the amount of work the woman had obvious had done, it was hard to place exactly where in that decade they fell.

If it hadn’t been for the fact that the cold-looking man had the same dark blue-nearly black eyes as Jude—only his were devoid of all emotion—I wouldn’t have known who he was.

“Son,” he greeted in a voice as flat as his features. “So you are here. I was starting to doubt it, seeing as you couldn’t bother to make it to skeet shooting. Or cigars and brandy this afternoon.”

For a father talking to his own offspring, the icyness that coated his words was unsettling to say the least. There wasn’t so much as a glimmer of affection in the man’s eyes for his son.

I looked up at Jude, seeing the muscle dancing in his jaw. “Call me crazy, but I didn’t think booze and firearms was a good mix. Especially with this family. Maybe next time.” Thatnext timewas never going to happen. I knew that much.

“Yes, well, probably for the best anyway. We were discussing your uncle’s latest property purchase and I’m sure you would have felt left out of the conversation given you choose to live in that hovel of an apartment.”

What the hell?Hovel? Had this man even seen the building we lived in? It was the finest complex in Grapevine and the surrounding towns. The waiting list to get in was an eternity, I knew that for a fact.

“Oh, Jude. It’s so good to see you.” The woman moved to Jude, taking his cheeks in her hands and tilting his chin this way and that to air kiss either cheek. There was no contact whatsoever. Definitely not a way I’d greet family.

“Mother,” Jude replied. “Good to see you too. You look lovely.” His words were kind, but the way he said them led me to believe he hadn’t really noticed one way or another how she looked and was merely playing the role of polite, dutiful child. If he had been paying attention he would have more than likely noticed that her dyed blonde hair looked fried beyond belief. Clearly this lady didn’t go to Nona, an artist when it came to all things hair, because this woman looked like she was wearing a bleached-blonde football helmet on her head.

“And you look, well...” She trailed off. “Oh, dear. Working outside is really taking a toll on your skin, honey. You’re far more wrinkled than you should be at your age. Maybe I should give you the name of my doctor. It really is a wonder what a little Botox can do.”

Passive aggressive strike one.

Wow, this woman reallywasa bitch! Jude’s rugged good looks made him the hottest man in this room, whether he had wrinkles or not. Which he didn’t.

Jude’s smile was tight and brittle. “I figured you’ve had enough toxins shot into your skin for the both of us. I’m good. But thanks.”

“Well, if you’re sure, sweetie,” she said with false concern. She didn’t give a shit, she just wanted to make Jude feel bad. “Sooner or later, your face is going to start looking like old shoe leather. Then where will you be?”

Better off than her, that was for damn sure. At leasthelooked human.

“I’d like you to meet Layla Fox. My fiancée. Layla, these are my parents, Raymond and Sandra Kingsley.”

“Hi. It’s lovely to meet—”

Their eyes swung in my direction almost aggressively fast. “Fiancée,” Sandra clipped. While Raymond’s eyes narrowed on my left hand.

“Is that my mother’s ring?”

Always one for perfect timing, Sybil came up just then, replying, “Technically it’s her ring now, but good eye.”

Raymond looked to his mother with even more distain than what he’d given to his son. “Mother. Don’t you think it’s a little presumptuous giving the family ring to Jude? After all, thisishis second engagement. Doesn’t really say responsible decision making if you ask me.”

“Good thing I didn’t, huh? And you really aren’t one to be judging someone else’s decisions. Careful son, that glass house of yours is mighty fragile.”

Sandra stepped in just then in a misguided attempt to smooth things over. “Sybil, darling. You look as beautiful as ever. Positively radient.”

“I know,” Sybil deadpanned. “Which is more than I can say for you,Sandy.” At that, Jude’s mother curled her top lip in a snarl before catching herself. Clearly, she didn’t care for the nickname. “Your skin is looking rather waxy. And is that—” she squinted her eyes and leaned in closer to the woman. “Oh, my. Time to find a new doctor, darling. He missed a couple wrinkles. Any more and you’d look like a shirt just pulled out of a suitcase a week later.”

Sandra’s eyes went big, her hand moving to cover her forehead so fast she actually smacked herself before she issued a quick apology and skuttled off toward the bathroom.

“Enough of this nonsense,” Sybil decreed in a voice that made everyone’s backs shoot straight. “I came here to eat, not trade barbs with the less intelligent. I’m famished, and I’m done wasting my time.”

With those words, the servers came pouring out, carrying trays of appetizers as the family moved to the tables to find their seats.

With one last look at Jude, I let out a sigh and followed him to our table. I had the feeling it was going to be a long, exhausting night.

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