When they returned to her apartment, Roxie couldn’t boot up her laptop fast enough. She logged in and quickly searched her in-box. Somebody out there had been looking for a family of girls only a few months ago. She knew the chances of it being her, Lexie, and Maxie were slim, but she had a gut feeling.
Moonlight kept popping into her head. That cat had been trying to tell her something.
She settled in and checked out the responses she’d received since she and Billy had put a new post on the board. Unfortunately, none of them panned out. She searched back into the board’s history as far as she could go, but didn’t find anything that clicked. Soon, there was nothing she could do but wait for new posts.
She started checking for them every ten minutes. Then it was once every hour.
Soon her positive outlook faded.
“You knew this could take a while,” Billy reminded her a few days later when her excitement had run out. They were in the bar, where everything seemed to be running slow from the tap to the kitchen to Whitey. The regular’s bum knee was acting up again.
“I know,” she said grumpily. It had already taken twenty-six years, but it was almost as if she could feel the clock ticking down.
And not towards a happy ending.
She passed Martha a new package of darts and returned to the computer she’d propped up next to the cash register.
She should have felt like she was getting closer to the truth, but instead, she could feel everything pulling away. Whoever might have been out there didn’t seem to be looking anymore—and she and Billy had done all they could. He’d said he’d help her with the computer stuff, and they’d poked around downtown. There was nothing else keeping him here.
She glanced at him across the bar through her eyelashes. He’d been here for nearly a week, an eternity compared to his previous visits, but how much longer would it last? Things between them were starting to get tense. The sex was becoming hot and desperate, almost as if they both knew the other shoe was about to drop.
It always had before. There was no reason to expect it to be different this time. Their basic problems hadn’t gone away. When it came right down to crunch time, they weren’t strong enough as a couple.
A nasty pang caught her midchest.
That damn duffel bag. He never had brought it to her place. He kept it in that empty second floor apartment, going back and forth every morning. She was just a stay-over, and he was ready to go on a moment’s notice.
Soon, he’d be gone.
Because it was “probably for the best.”
The door to the bar opened, letting rays from the setting sun streak across her computer screen. She sent a scowl over her shoulder.
“Back for another round of pool?” Skeeter asked the customer.
“I thought I’d collect on my winnings.”
“She’s at the bar.”
“Hey, Kanga,” Roxie called. She hadn’t seen him for days. She’d thought maybe he wasn’t coming back.
The kid shook his head. “It’s Roux.”
He headed to the bar like a shadow sliding across the floor and climbed onto a stool a few seats down from Billy.
Billy stopped with a beer halfway lifted. “Did you actually beat her, kid?”
“I did.”
“That’s big talk,” Roxie said. “If I recall correctly, we were tied one game apiece. You owe me an order of potato wedges.”
“And you owe me teeny weenies,” he said, his face flaring when he realized what he’d said.
Billy took a drink of his draft beer. “Unfortunate name, but tasty if you can get ’em.”
Roux folded his arms on the bar top and finally met her gaze. “I thought I’d better pay up before you sent someone out to collect.”
“Oh, I don’t send people. I collect on my own.” Roxie turned to the waitress. “Bring my guest some potato wedges and a bourbon burger, on the house.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Sure I do,” she murmured. Opening the icebox, she stirred the cubes to keep them from clumping. “I embarrassed you the other night.”
She held up her hand to stop the protests. “Not at pool, but when I started talking about setting you up.”
“Oh, that.” Roux rubbed the back of his neck. “You said something about a sister?”
“Your sister?” Billy cut in.
“Blaire,” Roxie clarified. “You haven’t met her yet. She’s super cute.”
Roux turned to Billy. “There are others?” he asked the older man.
“Not for you.” Roxie rolled her eyes at Billy. “Kanga here came in because of the billboard.”
She zeroed in again on the college kid, pointing in warning. “Now just because I posed for that thing, don’t be getting any ideas. Blaire doesn’t wear push-up bras out in public. She’s a nice girl.”
“Okay, I get it.” Roux lifted his hands in defense. “So what are you going to do for marketing now that the billboard has been taken down?”
Roxie’s head whipped around. “Taken down?”
Roux went still, feeling the tension that had just dropped over the room. “Yeah. They ripped it down today.”
Roxie wrapped her fingers around the edge of the bar, one by one. “Who ripped it down?”
“I thought you had it done. Maybe it was the sign company?” He eased back. “I just noticed it.”
“No.” Roxie refused to believe it was true, yet the urge to move came over her so suddenly, she literally bumped into the bar. “No, no, no.”
Leaving her post, she stepped out into the main bar area. She quickly pivoted back to grab her computer. There had to be some mistake.
“Rox?” Billy said softly.
Right. Why would she need the computer?
Spinning around again, she headed to her office like a locomotive on rails. Heads were going to roll for this. Was that preachy little librarian behind this? Had activists gotten up there and defaced her sign? Because if they had, by God, for the first time in her life, she was going to go to the police.
What had that patrolman’s name been? The tough-looking one?
Her laptop hit the desk with a none-too-gentle thunk, and she whipped open her lower desk drawer so fast, she hit herself in the shin. “Ow, damn it.”
“Roxie.”
Billy filled her doorway, blocking the light with his wide shoulders. Roxie swore under her breath as she grabbed her purse. It swung around and nailed her in the back as she headed towards him.
This was wrong. Had the sign company taken it down? They’d be in violation of their stinking contract if they’d let themselves be goaded into it.
“Contract,” she hissed, turning again.
Tearing open a file cabinet, she flipped through papers until she found what she was looking for. Lowering her chin, she let her gaze cut through Billy as she bore down on him.
He held up his hands and cleared out of the way.
“I will take them to court for freedom of speech,” she hissed. Flames were flying on the grill as she passed, but even they shied away as she stomped her way into the bar.
Her heels clomped against the wood flooring, and she deliberately kicked her feet down to get the sound she wanted. Damn backup boots.
“Roxie,” Billy said more firmly.
A solid tug on her purse pulled her up short, and she whirled around on him. He deftly swiped the keys from her hand.
“I’ll drive.”
“Fine.” It would give her time to bitch out whomever was responsible for this.
Tearing down her sign!
Anger bubbled up inside her, hissing through her veins. She was so riled, she could barely see the words on the contract she was poring through as Billy settled her into the pickup.
A phone number. Ha!
She dialed it with stiff fingers. Her temper only got darker when nobody answered.
She tracked down the advertiser’s personal cell number as Billy was driving across the bridge. Twisting in h
er seat, Roxie peered across the lanes to the billboards on the other side of the road.
Bitter tears pressed at her eyes when she saw that Roux was right. Going the wrong direction, she couldn’t see clearly what was going on, but she knew what she didn’t see.
Her face, her eyes, her boobs…
The advertiser chose that inopportune moment to come on the line. “Hello?”
“Where is my billboard?” Roxie snapped.
“Who is this?”
“Roxie Cannon from The Ruckus. Where is my sign?”
“Oh, Ms. Cannon.” From the sigh in the man’s voice, she could tell he knew exactly who she was. “We didn’t receive payment from you to continue for another three months. Your lease was up.”
Payment. Lease. The words were like daggers. Roxie’s air came in rough, jagged pants as she skimmed the contract, her finger keeping place of where she was.
Expiration date. There.
A knot formed in her throat, making the ache worse. The date had passed. How could she have missed it?
“You didn’t put up anything new,” she snapped back, clutching at straws.
The billboard had been blank—tatters, really, of previous posters. Since when did they rush out and tear things down the moment they came due? Why hadn’t anyone called her? Especially if they didn’t have a backup sponsor?
The man on the other end of the line hemmed and hawed. Finally, he grumbled, “With the hubbub it was causing, we thought it best to take the whole thing down.”
Roxie literally growled. The sound just came out. The truck was now bouncing along the dirt of Fisherman’s Road. Looking up, she saw the remnants of her billboard. They waved in the wind, looking defeated and helpless.
“Don’t expect repeat business from me,” she hissed, punching the button to end the call. By that point, her throat had nearly closed off.
They were sitting right under the sign now. Her sign. Billy shifted into park and watched her, saying nothing.
Roxie shook her head. Damn it, she couldn’t explain it, but her heart was breaking.
She lurched out of the cab of the truck. The wind lifted her hair and made it lash against her face. Her chin quivered as she looked up at nothing.
It was gone. All gone.
She felt Billy move up behind her, and her spine stiffened. She blinked fast as he blocked the wind, protecting her. When he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her back against him, she lost it.
The sobs just poured out, deep and not pretty. “I wasn’t ready for this,” she protested between the tears.
He bent his head down beside hers. Up on the interstate, cars rushed by. The dull roar of the traffic rumbled in Roxie’s ears, making her headache worse.
“It was good while it lasted,” he told her. “It brought you business.”
She just cried harder.
“And Lexie,” he murmured.
Roxie wrapped her arms around her waist. The pain was just too much.
“It led to Maxie, too,” he said comfortingly. “That’s a lot for one sign to do.”
But she had wanted more. Just one more thing.
His lips moved against her temple. “You thought it would bring the rest of your family to you, didn’t you?”
Roxie turned and crumpled. Her fingers clutched at his jacket as she cried tears against his T-shirt. “Yes!”
She’d lied, damn it. Who could blame her? She’d been on a roll, and she’d made a secret wish.
“Aw, babe,” Billy said soothingly. His voice was gruff, and his hold was tight. “You have other options now. New leads.”
Leads that had gone nowhere. “This worked,” she whimpered. For once in her life, she’d had good luck.
Her vision was watery when she looked over her shoulder. What she saw made the tears pour over and down her cheeks.
Her good luck charm was gone.
Billy took a shuddering breath and rubbed her back. “Let me take you home.”
No! She didn’t want to leave. It would be giving up.
But somebody else had already made that decision for her.
She sniffed. “Okay.”
There was no reason to stay here anymore. That billboard wasn’t going to magically reappear. Even if she paid to have another put up, it wouldn’t be the same.
Billy helped her back into the pickup. She found a pack of tissues in her purse and blew her nose. The tears were drying up.
All the emotion was drying up.
She felt empty.
She glanced at the blank billboard one last time as Billy did a U-turn. It had been a lark from the beginning, something to shock and draw attention. When had she started putting her faith in it?
When had she started dreaming for the impossible?
She rubbed her palm over her breastbone, trying to ease the ache. Be careful what you wished. Hadn’t she learned that the hard way, long, long ago?
Fisherman’s Road seemed extra rutted and bumpy as they made their way back to the interstate. When they passed what had formerly been her sign, Roxie kept her head down.
Her touch was careful as she reassembled the work file she’d so carelessly grabbed. This was her fault. She’d missed the payment. She, or Charlie. In all the chaos of transferring the bar over to her ownership, she’d made a mistake.
Or maybe she’d unconsciously sabotaged herself.
Did she really want to know what had happened all those years ago? Did she want to know why she and her sisters had been given up? Did she really want to meet the people who had let that happen?
The ache in her chest deepened, and she had to swallow hard to clear the jagged lump in her throat.
“Here we are, babe.”
She hadn’t even realized they were back home. Billy opened her door, but she hopped down without his help.
“Ow,” she cried when pain rushed through her feet. Dumping her armful of papers back into the truck, she tore off the boots. Whipping around, she threw them as hard as she could towards the trash can on the curb.
“Enough!” She’d had enough of the pain. She’d had enough of just dealing with things.
Billy knew better than to try to swoop her up into his arms. Instead, he tucked her up against his side. They headed for the apartments, not even talking about it. Roxie glanced at the bar. The neon blazed and the beat of the bass hit her square between the eyes.
She sniffed. “This sucks.”
He sighed. “Yeah, it does.”
Billy walked up the stairs with Roxie quiet at his side. She was dejected, and he didn’t like it. He was used to her fighting and spitting nails when life wronged her. She was a force to be reckoned with.
Only now, her spirit seemed doused.
He let them into her apartment and shut the door behind them. It was early evening. The sun was still up, and the bar hadn’t even hit its stride.
She dropped her purse on the floor and sagged back against the breakfast bar. “I was so stupid.”
“Not stupid.”
“I let myself get invested in something that wasn’t even real.”
He braced his hands on the countertop, bracketing her. “You let yourself hope.”
He bent his head down so he could peer into her eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”
Even with puffy eyes and splotchy cheeks, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Not even her sisters compared, because he saw through the tough exterior to the fragile center. She was unlike anyone else, the yin and the yang.
He kissed her gently. Her lips trembled, which was unlike her, and something inside his chest twisted. He kissed her more firmly, mouth open against hers. When her hands slid under his jacket and clenched him at the waist, he knew he had her.
He cupped the back of her neck. Her hair felt like silk and her skin was even softer. He felt himself hardening. He wanted to make things better for her, he really did.
“I’ve always been so angry about it,” she said quietly. He nuzzled at
her neck, and she leaned into him. “But when things went so well with Lexie and Maxie…”
She’d started to dream about the perfect ending.
He wanted to tell her that could still happen, but he wouldn’t lie to her. Not even to make the sadness go away. Instead, he cupped her face and made her look at him. “Baby, did you ever think about what would have happened if you hadn’t ended up in foster care? We would never have met.”
His voice went rough. “And I needed you, Roxie.”
A soft sound left her throat.
He leaned his forehead against hers. “You pulled me back in.”
He’d been going down the wrong road before she’d showed up with her angel face and sassy attitude.
“Billy,” she said softly. Going up on her tiptoes, she pressed her mouth against his.
The heartfelt kiss nearly toppled him.
Holding onto her tightly, he backed them towards the bedroom.
In the dimming light, their breaths sounded as one. Sensuality settled heavily over the room as they kissed and touched, not wanting to break contact. This desire was different. Deeper. The pleasure was there, but the need to connect was so much stronger.
Roxie scooted onto the bed once he’d stripped her, but Billy didn’t follow when she reached for him.
He had other plans.
Moving to the end of the bed, he took her foot in his hand. It was cold. Palming it, he tried to warm her up.
There was something about seeing her barefoot that ruined him. She went shoeless all the time around the apartment, but out in the big, bad world, she was always protected with shoes that killed. Those damn old boots had done more than hurt her feet. They’d made her seem vulnerable and tentative.
And that wasn’t his girl.
“Here?” he asked, pressing against the ball of her foot.
Her toes curled.
He stroked her arch. “Or here?”
“There.” Her moan was a blend of pleasure and relief. Sitting up, she pulled the comforter over herself and watched as he massaged away the ache.
Billy’s concentration focused. If there ever was a woman like a high performance racing engine, she was it. Wrapping his hand around her heel, he played mechanic. Using his touch, he sought out the aches and pains that had been plaguing her and fixed them. By the time he started up her Achilles’ heel, she was a shuddering hot mess.
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