Carol Finch - The Family Feud - The Family Feud / Stop The Wedding?!

JAN GRABBED the door latch, intent on leaping from the truck the moment Morgan stamped on the brake. Her sense of urgency provoked her to find her moronic sister—pdq. Jan didn’t bother to rake herself over live coals for blurting out her virgin status to Morgan. She supposed she only wanted to shock him, get a reaction from him and she’d derived wicked amusement watching him crash to the floor and gape at her in amazement.

Yet, none of that mattered at the moment, Jan mused as she bounded from the truck and hightailed it to Goober Pea Tavern. She had to save Kendra from sheer idiocy. Kendra wasn’t accustomed to being jilted and now she was determined to soothe her feminine pride by reinforcing the belief that men still wanted her.

Jan cannoned through the door, momentarily disoriented by the cloud of smoke and dimly lit interior. She could only make out shadowy silhouettes at the tables and bar. Lord, she hoped she wasn’t too late to rescue Kendra. If she’d come and gone, Jan wasn’t sure where to search next.

Squinting, Jan panned the crowded bar and studied the couples that two-stepped around the dance floor while the jukebox played Garth Brooks’s hit: “I’ve Got Friends In Low Places.” Frantically, Jan tried to locate that mop of tangled blond hair that belonged to Kendra. She felt Morgan’s reassuring presence behind her and she fully appreciated his towering height when his arm shot out to indicate the chummy couple nestled in a corner booth. Jan plunged forward, oblivious to the speculative male glances directed at her.

With Morgan hot on her heels, Jan strode up to the booth and stared disapprovingly at her inebriated sister who was half sprawled on her burly date. When the man stroked Kendra’s arm and nuzzled her neck, indignation rose inside Jan. She swatted the man’s wandering hand away from her sister.

“Hey, scram, will ya?” the blond-haired Romeo drawled. “I’m busy here. You’ll have to wait your turn, darlin’.”

“That’s my sister you’re pawing,” Jan snapped. “Back off, bozo.”

Behind her, Morgan leaned close to advise, “It’s best not to provoke a drunk. Use some tact or let me handle this.”

Before Jan could take a less-combative approach Romeo shoved her away and she stumbled against the rock-hard wall of Morgan’s chest. Jan tried to remain calm and rational, but when Romeo’s hand glided over the side of Kendra’s bosom, which was accentuated by the shrink-wrap, passion-pink dress, Jan lost her temper in one second flat.

“Hands off,” she growled. “I want to talk to my sister. Now!”

Kendra stirred sluggishly, her head lolling against Romeo’s broad shoulder. “Janna?” She blinked dazedly. “Tha’ you? Wha’re ya doin’ ’ere?”

“Saving you from disaster.” She tugged on Kendra’s limp arm. “C’mon. Let’s go.”

“Buzz off,” Romeo snarled menacingly.

Jan was in the process of dragging Kendra off the seat when Romeo grabbed a fistful of her shirt and yanked her sideways. The movement caused their pitcher of beer to splatter on her chest and dribble on the crotch of his jeans.

“Damn it to hell!” he yowled. “Now you’ve gone and done it!”

“Hey, Sonny. How’s it goin’?” Morgan asked calmly.

Romeo—or rather Sonny—blinked like an awakened owl, craned his thick neck and looked past Jan. “That you, Morgan?”

“Yep. Sorry about the interruption, but Kendra has to go home now.”

Sonny cast a droopy-eyed glance at Kendra who could barely hold up her head. “We were making plans to go to her place.”

“Some other time maybe, but not tonight. Now be a pal and unclench your hand from Janna’s blouse so she can stand up. We don’t wanna make a scene and get evicted, this being your favorite watering hole and all.”

“Janna?” Sonny Blair blinked in disbelief as he appraised her. “Damn, this isn’t the Janna I remember. The scrawny kid you French-kissed at Homecoming way back when?”

Jan inwardly cringed when Sonny snickered drunkenly. His grasp on her shirt loosened so she could upright herself. In dismay, she glanced down to see her knit blouse clinging to her like a coat of wet paint.

“Hot damn, girl,” Sonny slurred as he leered at her. “You filled out in all the right places, didn’t ya?”

“Get Kendra out of here,” Morgan murmured against her ear. “I’ll take care of Sonny.”

Jan hoisted her sister from the booth, then steadied herself when Kendra staggered drunkenly. “Damn it, Keni,” she growled at her sister. “You should have more sense than to pull a stunt like this.”

“Don’t care,” Kendra mumbled. “Besides, I wasn’t gonna sleep with Sonny, y’know. I may be tipsy but I’m not stupid. I wanna show the dog that I don’t need him. I hate men, all of ’em. Want ’em all dead.”

“Of course, you do, and for good reason,” Jan agreed—anything to keep Kendra moving toward the door. “They’re worthless, pesky creatures. I don’t know why the good Lord saw fit to populate the planet with them.”

“Me, neither,” Kendra slurred out. “Hate ’em, hate ’em.”

“Which is why hanging out with Sonny-boy isn’t the answer—” Jan jerked upright when an unseen hand patted her familiarly on the fanny.

Instinctively, she whipped around to protest, but Morgan was a step behind her, frowning warningly at her. “Just keep moving,” he advised.

“But, he—” she tried to explain.

Morgan glided his arm around her waist and clamped hold of Kendra who was wobbling like a bowling pin. “I’ll come back and beat the living hell out of your groper if that makes you happy, but let’s get Kendra home to bed first before we kick ass. Okay?”

Jan decided he was right. She wasn’t reacting logically at the moment and inciting a barroom brawl over a pat on the butt wasn’t worth the trouble. She’d be wise to take Morgan’s advice and get the hell out of here while the getting was good. She’d deal with her righteous indignation later.

Once outside, Morgan hoisted Kendra into his arms and strode quickly toward his truck. “Hold it, Morgan,” Jan objected. “I’ll drive Keni home in her car and you can get back to your farm. I’ve inconvenienced you enough for one night, but I do appreciate all your help.”

He never broke stride. “You’ll need a hand putting her in bed and it’ll be easier to haul her from my truck than from that piddling compact car.”

Jan smothered a ridiculous sensation of jealousy when her sister looped her arms around Morgan’s shoulders and pressed a string of kisses down his neck. “Kendra Rose Mitchell, behave yourself!” she shouted.

“He smells so good,” Kendra mumbled sluggishly. “Feels good, too. Better ‘an wha’s-’is-name.”

“I know he does, but five minutes ago you wanted all men dead, so just keep your lips to yourself,” Jan commanded.

Morgan propped Kendra on the seat, then turned back to Jan. “Bring her car. I’ll follow you because I don’t know where she lives.”

Jan wasn’t sure she trusted Kendra on the bench seat with Morgan. When Morgan closed the door, then pivoted toward her, she said, “You shouldn’t be within touching distance of Keni right now.”

To her surprise, Morgan bent to brush a light kiss across her lips. “Thanks for your concern about my honor, but I should be safe. I predict your little sis will pass out during the drive. Lead the way to her place and unlock her door so I can carry her inside.”

Jan was still standing there, her lips tingling, her body pulsating, when Morgan strode around the truck. Why had he kissed her? And why’d she have to like it so much? She didn’t need this on top of all else!

“Gawd, you’re losing it, too,” Jan muttered at herself. If she weren’t careful she’d turn into a basket case like her mom and sister. She was not going to go ape over Morgan again. She was a mature, sensible woman these days. That was nothing but a harmless, reassuring kiss he’d bestowed on her. It just happened to pack the wallop of a heat-seeking missile because she was emotionally distressed and ultrasensitive to the man. The kiss was nothing special, so she’d forget about it—just as soon as her traitorous body stopped quivering and coiling with awareness and desire.