“Now, how did that come to pass?” Alma Weston asked, her shrewd brown eyes jumping from Parr to Mary Beth.

Mary Beth offered no explanation. She looked like she wanted to run away for real. And not into his arms.

This couldn’t be happening, Parr thought. She couldn’t be his brother’s fiancée. She just couldn’t be. “Where the hell is Bobby Joe?” He growled the question.

“He’s searching everywhere for Mary Beth!”

“Is he now? Well, he has a few things to answer for,” Parr told his mother, the rough edge in his voice conveying his fury.

“What’s going on?” Howard asked.

“I caught Bobby Joe with Luellen tonight,” Mary Beth practically screamed at her father.

“You caught him? Doing what? How did Luellen get mixed up in this?” Howard seemed stunned, even though he’d been tipped off only minutes ago. The unfolding drama needed only a few more sordid details and they would all know what had happened.

“Need you ask?” Tears misted Mary Beth’s eyes. She dashed them angrily away.

When Parr pulled her close against his side, she melted into the solid strength of his big body. Even knowing he was Bobby Joe’s big brother didn’t change the fact that she wanted and needed the protection he offered.

She closed her eyes, wishing she could make everyone but the two of them disappear. A familiar voice made her open them again.

“Just what’s going on here?” Bobby Joe Weston demanded when he stormed through the doors and saw his fiancée wrapped in his brother’s arms.

Ignoring his mother and Howard Caine, Bobby Joe strode to Mary Beth and reached out to her.

“If you touch her, I’ll kill you,” Parr said.

Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Bobby Joe sat rigidly in the dinette chair, his long, lean fingers clasped together on the maple tabletop in the center of Alma Weston’s rambling ranch-style house. He ignored the cup of coffee Parr had just set in front of him.

They hadn’t bothered to get dressed all the way. Parr was shirtless. His mother tended to be thrifty with the air-conditioning and didn’t turn it up all the way. Sometimes he forgot how humid Mississippi could be after living in Tennessee for so many years and getting used to a cooler climate. Where he lived now, in the foothills of a scenic mountain range, suited him fine. He had never been that happy here. Most of the family had stayed on, set in their ways, once Alma had moved to Iminga with her boys years ago.

The sunny yellow tiles that framed the sink and appliances cast a golden glow all over the kitchen. But even that didn’t do much to brighten the mood between the brothers.

“I do love Mary Beth,” Bobby Joe argued. “She’s the most wonderful woman I’ve ever known.”