Best Laid Plans Page 14

  “My daddy never wore a tux in his life, JT. Not even when he married Momma.”

  “Are you sassing me?”

  Once Mopp would have shrunk in on himself, positive he’d gotten on the wrong side of JT and wondering if he’d still have a job in the morning, but he’d been living at the ranch for eight months, and he’d gotten to know the people who lived there. JT wasn’t the kind of man who threw his weight around, just because he was the boss’s boyfriend.

  “Um….” He peeked at him from under his lashes, grinning a little. “Yes?”

  “I thought as much. A little respect for my gray hairs, young man.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Hold on a second! You’re supposed to say these aren’t gray hairs.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  They both laughed, and JT turned to the salesman. “Now show this young man something more suitable for his age.”

  “Yes, sir. I didn’t realize this was your… er… son?”

  JT raised an eyebrow.

  “Nephew! I meant to say your nephew!”

  “Well, he’s neither.”

  Mopp thought the man was going to choke on his tongue.

  “He’s my friend.”

  “Yes, sir! Of course, sir! If you’ll come this way?”

  And JT was right. He found him the perfect tux, and then bought it for him, calling it an early Christmas present.

  “But it’s so expensive. And… and I’m really not likely to wear it again.”

  JT gave him the hairy eyeball. “There’s New Year’s Eve. And you can always save it for your own wedding. Now, just say ‘thank you.’”

  “Thank you.” Mopp turned away, blinking so he wouldn’t make a fool of himself by crying. No one had ever done anything this nice for him. Ever.

  “Now, let’s go. You still need new shoes.”

  New shoes, new socks and underwear—the shorts the color that complemented the vivid blue of his eyes and sort of silk-y, and wasn’t Jan going to love them!—a new shirt with those pleats down the front

  Mopp was really proud to wear the tux. He narrowed his eyes and peered into the bathroom mirror. “The name is Mopp. Ragg Mopp,” he murmured, raising his eyebrow in what he hoped was a suave, sexy, sophisticated man-about-town sort of way.

  Then he laughed at himself. Okay, maybe he really wasn’t any of that, and maybe his accent came off more Savannah, Georgia, than London, England, but this was the first time he’d ever worn a tux, and he was impressed by what he saw.

  He gave a final tug to his bowtie and wished his family could see him, but of course they wouldn’t. And if they did, they’d think he was getting above himself.

  “Did you say something, Billy Bob?” Jan, his girlfriend of six months—six intense, fantabulous months!—came into the bathroom and gently nudged him aside. She was wearing a black slip that ended at mid-thigh, but no one here at the ranch would have ogled her, since not only were all the men in this household gay, but Jan’s bedroom opened directly into this bathroom.

  “No.” He blushed, pleased she hadn’t heard him being silly. She was so polished, and he didn’t want her to realize what a hick she was dating. “You look gorgeous, Jan.” He wanted to call her ‘babe,’ but she had told him the first and only time he’d done it that it was a sexist, condescending term, and she wasn’t having any part of it.

  He didn’t quite understand how it could be sexist, when the men at the ranch constantly addressed each other by it, but she was the college graduate, while he’d barely managed to make it through high school, not because he was dumber than a box of rocks, but because Daddy was always pulling him out of school to help with one thing or another.

  “Thanks.” She didn’t repay his compliment, just sucked in her cheeks and began to stroke on the blush, highlighting her cheekbones. “I suppose you said the same thing to Babe.”

  “I haven’t seen Miz Babe, but if she looked pretty, why shouldn’t I tell her so?”

  “Because you’re my boyfriend,” she said, her tone dripping icicles.

  Mopp sighed. Lately Jan had been blowing hot and cold, and it seemed like an age since she’d had anything nice to say about him.

  No, that wasn’t right. It was only… only… His brow furrowed, and he tried to recall when she’d told him his kisses were sweeter than wine.

  Or had she just been singing along to the old Jimmie Rodgers song as they danced? Well, at least she liked to dance with him. He was looking forward to that after the wedding ceremony.

  Jan must have heard him sigh. She turned and started to frown at him, but her eyes widened instead. “You look good, Billy Bob!”

  “Really?” He flushed and couldn’t help preening a bit. He supposed he had to be somewhat good-looking—everyone knew January Stephens usually dated men who were so handsome all the girls drooled and envied her, so it was nice to have her approval.

  He’d lasted longer than most of her boyfriends, too, and that had to mean she cared about him, didn’t it?

  Jan patted his cheek. “You’re sweet.” She leaned toward him and kissed the air above his cheek, but when he stepped closer to take her in his arms, she held out her hand. “No, you’ll muss my makeup. Go and join the others now. You know Mr. Jack wants everything to be perfect.”

  “Okay. And… and Jan? Maybe… maybe you’ll….” He drew in a deep breath. “Maybe one day you’ll think about us having something this perfect?”

  “Hmm?” She had turned away and was now applying eyeshadow, meticulously brushing one shade over her eyelids, a darker shade in contrast in the crease, and something lighter on the bone beneath her brows. “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Now scoot. You want me to look my best, don’t you?”

  “You always look your best, Jan.” He met her gaze in the mirror and thought hers looked a little sad. Before he could ask her what was wrong, she smiled and blew his reflection another kiss.

  “Go. I’ll see you in a little while.”

  He left the bathroom and went to find Rush and Tad.

  They were probably in their bedroom. Well, right now it was still Tad’s bedroom, because even though Rush spent every night with him, Rush’s official bedroom was on the other side of the house. Once they were back from their honeymoon, Rush would move in with his husband.

  Mopp knocked on the door.

  “Yes? Who is it?”

  “It’s Mopp.”

  The door opened, and Rush stood there. He was pale and his mouth was in a grim line.

  “Uh… anything I can do for you guys?”

  “No.”

  “Want me to get Mr. Jackson or JT?”

  “No!” Rush looked up and down the hall, then grabbed Mopp’s arm, dragged him into the room, and slammed the door shut behind him.

  Tad was sitting on the bed, his head in his hands.

  “Rush, what’s going on?” Mopp swallowed as Tad raised his head. He looked wrecked, and not in a good way.

  Oh, geez, was he going to call off the wedding?

  But how could he? Mopp had never seen any two people as in love as Tad and Rush. Well, except maybe for JT and Mr. Jackson.

  “What’s wrong, Rush? How can I help?”

  “I’ll tell you what’s wrong.” He’d never seen Rush—sweet-tempered, mild-mannered Rush—so furious. “Tadder just got off the phone with his mother, and she’s not coming. Neither is his grandfather, or his aunt or that mealy-mouthed husband of hers, or his cousins.”

  “Rush, you didn’t have to—” Tad started to protest weakly.

  “Yes, I did. The last thing we want is your father or JT coming in here to see what’s holding us up and seeing how upset you are.”

  “You could go—”

  Again Rush interrupted him. “No, I couldn’t. You need me here, and that’s exac
tly where I’m going to be.”

  Tad looked as though he was going to object, and Rush’s mouth took on a mulish expression.

  “Don’t you give me a hard time over this, Thaddeus Jackson! You’ve stood by me and backed me up more times than I can count, and now you’re goddamned well going to let me do that for you!”

  Mopp was a little surprised, not only because Tad always seemed so self-confident, but also because Rush was usually such a quiet guy. This was the first time he’d ever heard him yell, let alone swear.

  “You’re right, babe.” Tad scrubbed a hand over his face.

  “I’m so sorry, Tad.” Mopp knew, better than he wanted to know, that there were times when you loved your family because they were family, but you didn’t much like them. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Stay close to Daddy and JT, as much as you can without them getting suspicious. If they ask about us… I… I can’t think.” Tad wound his arms around Rush’s waist and leaned his head against him. “Rush, what can he tell them that won’t have them hotfooting it here?”

  “Tell them we’re practicing for the honeymoon.” Rush stroked his fiancé’s hair, the action one of the most tender that Mopp had ever witnessed. He knew he should look away, give them a bit of privacy, but he couldn’t seem to draw his gaze away.

  “Why, Ruston Dalton!” Tad was trying for his usual confident tone, but he didn’t quite make it. His voice was still a little shaky. “You sexy devil, you!”

  “And don’t you forget it. I’m quiet, but I’m feisty. And Mopp, that expression is perfect.”

  “What expression?” Although he was afraid he had a suspicion.

  “All blushing and disconcerted.”

  He sighed. Yep, that was the one. “Okay. I’ll do my best, but guys, I’m really not a good actor.”

  “Your best will be fine. Now get going. I have to calm down my fiancé.” Rush pushed Mopp toward the door, then closed and locked it behind him, but Mopp was still able to hear what he said. “I love you, Tadder-my-Tad, and I’ll never let you go, not because of asshole mothers or grandfathers or—”

  The rest of what he was going to say was abruptly cut off, and Mopp could imagine Tad kissing Rush’s mouth shut. And then there was the sound that could only be of a zipper being unzipped.

  Mopp’s face felt hot, and he knew that all he’d have to do was remember this moment to look as flustered as Rush wanted him to.

  He started walking toward the other end of the ranch. The ladies of the household—JT’s momma, Miss Abby, Miss Becca, and Jan—had spent most of the day decorating the living room. White streamers were draped from the ceiling, and white balloons hung from them. A vase filled to overflowing with white roses sat on the piano in the alcove just off the living room, and urns with other varieties of white flowers formed a path from the doorway where he stood to the spot where the happy couple—well, not-so-happy just now—would exchange vows.

  Folding chairs were stacked against the walls, and pretty soon they’d need to be set up.

  The Christmas tree, which normally would have been in the corner, or so he’d been told, had been set up in another room, and it was surrounded by piles of presents. He’d never seen anything like it. Of course they were given gifts at home, but they were usually tracts from the Bible, or practical things, like socks and underwear, new pajamas maybe.

  Although once Jennie, his youngest sister, had found a shiny black river rock that was kind of shaped like a heart. She’d bound it with strands of her golden hair, braided a chain from her hair as well, and had shyly given it to him while everyone was busy elsewhere. Mopp couldn’t wear it then—Daddy would have walloped them both—but now he could and he did. Jan hadn’t been happy the first time she’d seen Jennie’s heart, assuming it was from an old girlfriend, and was still unhappy even when she learned it was from Jennie, so he made a point of leaving it in his room when they had a date.

  Miss Becca came walking in from the kitchen. “Oh, Mopp. Have you seen my brother?” She grinned. “Brothers?”

  “Oh, er….” And right on cue he blushed.

  She stared at him for a moment, then burst into laughter. “Oh, no! Don’t tell me they’re….” She waggled her eyebrows.

  “Um….” Mopp blushed even harder, thinking of what he’d heard on the other side of the door.

  “Well, I imagine they won’t want to be disturbed just now. Never mind, it’s not important. Would you mind setting up the chairs? Miss Abby’s going to get dressed, and if anyone comes looking for me, so am I.”

  “Okay.” He removed his tux jacket, folded it, and placed it on the piano bench, then went to the first stack of chairs. They were white, and so suitable for a wedding.

  “There you are, Mopp!” Mr. Cooper strolled into the room.

  “Hi, Mr. Cooper.”

  “I don’t suppose you’d want to call me Josh?”

  “Oh, I couldn’t! My momma always taught me to be respectful—” He wanted to groan. Why had he said something so stupid? He thought of Mr. Cooper as Josh already, but he liked him a lot, and he didn’t think it would be a good idea to let him know how much.

  “Of your elders?” He sighed and looked kind of deflated.

  “You’re not elder.”

  “But you won’t call me by my first name.”

  “I’m sorry. I—”

  “Never mind. So tell me, Mopp, what are you up to?”

  “Uh… Miss Becca asked me to set up the chairs.”

  “Her brother was supposed to do this.”

  Once again, Mopp blushed. He didn’t have to say a word, though, because Mr. Cooper caught on immediately.

  “Ah, to be young.”

  “You’re not old!”

  “Thanks.” He looked sad for a minute.

  “Can I… Is something wrong?”

  “No, I’m just being foolish. Being alone at Christmas always does that to me.”

  “But you’re not alone! There’s JT, and Mr. Jackson…”

  Mr. Cooper gave him a look. Okay, Mr. Jackson always watched the big man, as if keeping an eye on him would keep him from making a move on JT. Not that JT would accept moves made on him by anyone other than Mr. Jackson. Anyone with half an eye could see they shared a deep, passionate love.

  “There’s also me, Mr. Cooper. I’m here.”

  And wasn’t he being ridiculous? As if he made any difference in this man’s life.

  But Mr. Cooper smiled warmly at him. “Yes, you are, Mopp. Thank you. Here, let me give you a hand. I don’t know where we’re going to fit all these chairs.”

  “Seventy people. How do they know them all?” Rush had said they were keeping it what he called intimate, but seventy people...

  “Friends, family, colleagues.”

  Mopp shook his head. “There’d never be that many at my wedding.”

  “Oh?” Mr. Cooper stopped what he was doing but didn’t turn around. “You’re getting married?”

  “Well, not just yet.”

  “Right. Uh… Would you mind finding Tom and asking him what music he wants me to set out on the piano? I think he’s gone outside to make sure there’s room in the driveway for all the cars.”

  At least that part of Tad’s family was coming: his Uncle Andy and Aunt Eve, their four kids and their spouses.

  “Sure.” Mopp hurried out of the room and down the long hallway that led to the side door, which opened to the long driveway. “JT, Mr. Cooper wants to know—” He came to an abrupt halt.

  The area was lit up by the security lights, and JT stood there, his hands on his hips, scowling at a trio of big men. Big men!

  “What part of you’re trespassing don’t you fucking understand?” he growled. “This is a private affair.”

  They sneered at the word affair and looked like they were going to say something really
nasty, and boy, did that remind Mopp of his daddy.

  “God’s gonna smite you!”

  Yep, just like his daddy.

  “I doubt it. I don’t see Him around anywhere.”

  The men looked frustrated. “Well, no, but since He ain’t here, we’re gonna do the smiting for Him! We’re gonna stop this wedding!”

  “You can smite my lily-white ass!” JT’s gaze got hard. “You haven’t been invited, you’re not wanted, and you’re not going to stop anything. Now get the fuck off my property!”

  “Don’t matter none, you little homo! We’re here to do God’s work!”

  No, they were clearly looking to make trouble, and oh, shoot. This was not good. Mopp wheeled around and raced for the house. He’d stay to help, but there were three of them, and they were big! His best bet was going to round up the cavalry.

  “Mr. Jackson! Mr. Cooper!”

  “Well, hello there, Ragg Mopp.”

  “Mr. Andy!” Thank God! He was a big man, as big as Mr. Jackson—although not as big as Mr. Cooper—and Mopp couldn’t wait for the others.

  Mr. Andy was saying, “Evie and I just got here a little while ago—”

  Mopp didn’t pay any attention. He latched on to Mr. Andy’s arm and began tugging him after him.

  “What the…?”

  “Mopp? What is it?” Mr. Jackson came rushing in. He was wearing a fancy dress shirt, but he hadn’t put on his tux jacket yet.

  Mr. Cooper was right behind him. “Couldn’t you find Tom?”

  “I found him, he needs help. There are three men. They’re… They look like they’re itching for a fight.”

  Mr. Jackson spat a word better suited for the construction site and brushed past them.

  Mopp dropped Mr. Andy’s arm and raced after him, Mr. Andy and Mr. Cooper right behind him.

  “What’s going on here?” Mr. Jackson roared.

  JT straightened up, shaking out his hand and clenching and unclenching his fingers. The back seam of his tux jacket was split up the middle, and dots of red were all over the front of his shirt.