Free A Night of Southern Comfort by Robin Covington Page B

was stunned.
    Lucky nodded. “Yeah, but she dumped all of them once they accepted help from her father. From what I can gather, they had no problem staying with her but she kicked them to the curb.”
    Jack shifted in his seat. As much as he wanted to despise these men, he couldn’t muster too much righteous indignation. He’d also signed up to work for the governor and would accept the brass ring dangling in his face when the job was done. The only difference is that he wouldn’t sleep with Kayla in order to get what he wanted.
    “Any leads on who should be on the short list of people most likely to hate the governor?” Jack sifted through the report on Kayla’s staff and friends.
    “Well, the short list keeps getting longer,” Lucky answered.
    “You don’t get to where he is politically without stepping on a few toes,” Beck offered from his side of the booth.
    “Beck, you should have seen this guy’s house.” Lucky sat up in his seat, grin wide and hands gesturing wildly. Jack smiled. It was hard not to respond to his high spirits. “It was huge. I counted six or seven cameras just covering the big-ass front door.” He nudged Beck with an elbow. “And you know what they say about big doors?”
    “What?”
    “Big door”—Lucky’s hands spread wider and wider apart—“big doorknob.”
    Jack bit the inside of his cheek, stifling his laugh. “Hey Chatty Cathy?”
    Lucky faced him, still laughing. “Yeah?”
    “Shut up.”
    In Jack’s peripheral vision, Kayla left her table and walked toward the restroom area. She passed him, studiously avoiding eye contact. A pink flush spread across her cheeks. He considered following—he needed to talk, see if she remembered anything that could help him locate the person who’d been hiding in her bushes. And maybe, since they’d both had time to cool off, she’d reconsider his offer of protection.
    He slid out of the booth.
    Crystal stepped into his path. “How ya doing, Jack?” She licked her lips as she looked him over.
    Maybe he should ask his mom to get her something to eat. “I’m good.” He flicked a glance over her shoulder. No Kayla. No one following her. “How’re you doing, Crystal?”
    She sidled up to him, close enough that her full breasts—the best money could buy—brushed the front of his shirt. He took a step back.
    Lucky chuckled under his breath. Bastard .
    “I’m good, too.” She snaked a hand out to trail along his arm, then gripped his forearm. He tried to shake her off but she was like a rodeo rider on a bull and wasn’t going anywhere. “But, I keep wondering when you’re gonna call me.” A squeeze emphasized her words.
    Oh shit . He should’ve seen this coming. Three months ago they’d been out on one date—the worst date in the history of dates—and he’d avoided her ever since. But, Crystal was…persistent.
    “Crystal, I—” He stumbled over his words, distracted by the sight of Kayla approaching from the back of the restaurant. He sidestepped Crystal, but not before noticing her frown. He’d been clear that their one date wasn’t going anywhere. Maybe he needed to explain it again, but right now, that wasn’t his priority.
    “Kayla, I wanted to talk to you.”
    She shook her head and gestured with the phone in her hand. “Later. You need to get to the hospital.”
    “Are you ok? Did someone hurt you?” He inspected her body for wounds, then grasped her arms. He couldn’t imagine how someone could have gotten to her in the diner but he’d catch the son of a bitch and make sure he never touched her again. “Who was it? Are they in the ba—”
    “I’m fine.” She smiled and rested her hand against his chest where his heart thudded with adrenaline. The paced kicked up even more at the contact. “The hospital just called me. I’m the pediatrician on call.”
    “What?” He didn’t understand.
    “You need to go, Jackson.” Her blue eyes twinkled and she’d never looked more beautiful. His gut