Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 144908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
They need a red-hot hero
Not a poser or a zero
Deputy desire
You know I’m your live wire
Of fun . . .
Red Hot Jackson
Get your 911 of fun
And I’ll let you hold my gun
Because I’m . . .
Red Hot Jackson
On the chorus, more voices joined in. As Jackson Deveau’s silver truck pulled into a parking slot, some of the people in the park picked up the verses of the song and began to sing the catchy little tune.
Savage swung around and watched as Jackson sat in the truck for a moment, allowing the song to play out before shutting off the engine. He slipped out from the driver’s seat and strode toward them, appearing relaxed and confident, nodding toward a few people but not stopping. Jonas Harrington drove up beside the silver truck and parked. He followed the deputy at a much more leisurely pace.
“He was the one who orchestrated this,” Savage said. “He arranged all of this. Jackson Deveau is going down for this one.”
“If he managed all this, he’s downright brilliant,” Czar observed.
“He’s a cocky son of a bitch,” Ice had to admit. “Can’t help but admire the bastard.”
“Language,” Blythe reminded him, exchanging a look of pure amusement with Soleil. “The children.”
By the time Jackson made it to the table, Savage’s entire demeanor had changed. Czar greeted him, but Savage seemed welcoming, although he didn’t crack a smile. He simply wrapped his arms around Seychelle and nodded to the deputy, waiting until Jonas arrived before he spoke.
“Good you both came to support Mama Anat. Don’t know why she’s so worried about this silly gathering, but she’s got herself in some kind of tizzy. Zyah’s got her hands full trying to calm her down.”
Ambrielle had to hand it to Savage, the man should get an Oscar for his performance. He appeared genuinely concerned for Mama Anat and pleased that the two law enforcement officers were attending the church benefit, not in the least as though he’d just been threatening Jackson.
Ambrielle caught a flicker of dismay on Jackson’s face, and then it was gone, and he wore his usual expressionless mask. Had she not been studying him so closely, she would never have caught it. Yeah, he definitely had something to do with the turnout of the large crowd. That didn’t stop the Torpedo Ink members from making room for them at the table.
Jonas added a picnic basket filled with baked goods from the Floating Hat. “Hannah isn’t feeling very well, so she’s staying home and resting, or she would have come,” he explained.
Blythe and the others immediately murmured their concern.
“We’d better get set up, Seychelle, Savage,” Master said. He held out his hand to Ambrielle and enveloped her hand in his. His voice still sounded very husky, but she knew the moment they were away from everyone, he would once again volunteer to sing despite what the doctor had ordered. He couldn’t help himself. He didn’t like others to be uncomfortable, and he felt guilty that he’d put Savage in this position. He knew Savage didn’t sing in public.
Sure enough, they hadn’t gotten more than thirty feet from the picnic tables when Master immediately made his pitch. “Look, Savage, this turned into a huge shit show. I get that Jackson pulled off a cool prank, but this is one you don’t have to follow through with. I was supposed to handle this with Mama Anat, not you. I can sing the duet with Seychelle and get you off the hook. One song isn’t going to ruin my throat.”
Ambrielle wanted to protest that it could. The doctor had been very specific. But she didn’t say a word. She didn’t even raise her gaze in protest to Seychelle or Savage. They had already been told. They knew. She just waited, squeezing Master’s hand tighter. He brought her hand to his chest, his thumb rubbing over her knuckles as if he could ease the tension in her. Nothing could, but she didn’t voice that either. She simply waited.
“Not gonna happen, Master. I’ll sing with my woman. Just look at her and no one else. Seychelle will get me through it. When I look at her, the rest of the world disappears. And when I hear her voice, there’s a kind of magic that happens. Jackson can’t know that.”
“He’ll get the audience to demand more songs,” Master warned.
Savage shrugged. “All I ask is when I go to prison for murdering him, you look out for Seychelle. And when she comes to visit me, come with her. Don’t want the other prisoners ogling her.”
Seychelle burst out laughing. “You’re so crazy. You aren’t going to murder Jackson just because he thought up an awesome prank and one-upped your prank. He still hasn’t figured out how to stop that song from playing. Everyone in the village is singing it. Once we’re done here, that will be the end of it.”