by Cat Clayton
“Since Lucas had to miss the stampede, he’s coming into town this afternoon. He wants to know if you and Jackson want to double-date this evening.” He picked up his napkin and wiped Taffy’s muzzle. “Pretty princess, I have rules about eating bacon on my lap.”
“What do you have in mind?” I watched him inspect Taffy’s face for any bacon residue. “Is Lucas aware of this no-bacon-on-the-lap rule?”
“LOL, he doesn’t eat pork, but I wouldn’t kick him out of bed for eating crackers,” he said, laughing hysterically at his own joke.
“I’ll text Jackson and check with him. After this morning, I’m not much in the mood to go out, but it’ll give me a chance to get to know Lucas better.” I sent a quick message to Jackson and set the phone on the table, waiting for a reply. “So, what’re y’all thinking?”
A mischievous smirk appeared on Daniel’s face. “I promised Lucas the next time he came into town, we’d go dancing.”
“Dancing?”
A text reply came back from Jackson. Sure, I’d love to. Get off at 4:30 PM. <3
I typed back, OK, we’re going dancing.
He replied with a smiley face.
I set the phone down. “Daniel, are we talking dance-your-pants-off club dancing? If so, we have to go to College Station. I’m not sure I want to travel that far from town with Stoney being in the hospital.”
Daniel waggled his eyebrows. “No, he’s dying to learn how to two-step, and Little Bob’s is having a live band tonight. Y’all in?”
I don’t dance. Well, not since high school. “You know how to two-step?”
“Girl... I grew up in this Podunk town. It’s like riding a bike.”
“Okay, Jackson’s game. But, as far as my dancing skills, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Chapter 23
Hours later, I paced the apartment, waiting on Jackson. My frazzled nerves triggered an asthma attack earlier, and after two puffs, my erratic heart rate only led to more anxiety. Tonight, I predicted I’d make a fool of myself on the dance floor.
Chiquita, maybe you could take Taffy and me out to pee. Walking might take your mind off your worries.
Cuff made a good point. Doing anything else besides worry might settle my nerves. “Alrighty, pups. Let’s take a break.” I snatched both leashes from the hook near the door and jogged down the stairs, my boot heels clicking on the wood.
We exited the shop through the front door, the Christmas lights illuminating our way. The chilly night air blew straight through my scarlet turtleneck sweater, but at least my faded skinny jeans tucked into my camo boots shielded my legs. The white twinkling lights strung back and forth across Main Street swayed in the breeze. As we came up to the dark alleyway leading to the back of the Baker Building, Cuff stopped in his tracks, snarling. He backed up a few inches. Oblivious, Taffy continued yanking on the leash.
“What is it, little buddy?” Around the corner, I heard something scrape against the gravel, like a heavy foot.
“Hello? Is somebody there?”
Chiquita, I smell somebody.
I didn’t have time to turn and run. Kramer skulked from around the building, his face full of rage. I froze, my body refusing to move.
“You’d better leave,” I said, my demand feeble. “My boyfriend will be here any minute.”
He hacked up phlegm and spat on the sidewalk, causing my stomach to lurch. “I ain’t scared of your boyfriend.”
“Well, you should be. I’ll have him arrest you for harassment.” I felt a jolt in my legs and took a step back. “When did they let you out of jail?”
“Today.” Grinning, a brow arched over an evil eye. “It’s called a lawyer and bond. The charges won’t even stick. Lucky for me, my seller drank himself to death last week. So, now there’s no one to squeal.”
“It’s rude to speak ill of the dead.” I shook my head. “And you’re wrong. Just because Ziggy’s dead doesn’t mean someone else won’t give you up. No, you’ll serve time for dealing. You watch and see.”
He belted out a congested snicker. “Yeah right. Guys like me can murder someone right under the cops’ noses and get away with it.”
Is he admitting to murder? I thought, and my mind swiveled around to Stoney. The baby gifts. My nerves amped up.
“Are you the one sending my sister creepy gifts? And what about Lloyd Madden? Are you responsible for his death?” My voice quaked. I stepped backward, my mind racing with escape tactics. No way could I outrun this animal.
“Who the hell’s Lloyd?”
I narrowed my eyes. “First, answer me. Have you been stalking my sister?”
He laughed, mocking me. “You’re a real tough girl, huh? I bet your bark is much worse than your bite. I’d better check.” He lunged, arms outstretched.
I stumbled, colliding into the wall of the Baker building. “Don’t touch me.”
Cuff growled, standing up on his hind legs. Let me at him, Chiquita!
I tugged on both leashes. “Cuff, come here.” He obeyed. Taffy followed his lead, snarling.
Kramer scoffed at the pups and returned a sneer, squinting. “I ain’t gonna hurt you.” He pointed a finger. “But don’t let me hear you asking questions about me again. And I’ll tell you the same as I told that brother of Ziggy’s, you mess with the devil, you’ll get burned.”
I inched backward, dragging the dogs with me.
Cuff protested, pulling with all of his might. I will show him who is the man!
“Steely?” I heard Jackson’s voice behind me.
I turned, stumbling and smacking into his chest. I blinked up at him. For a split second, Jackson’s eyes melted, and then shifted to rage as they landed on Kramer.
“What the hell do you want, Kramer?”
I reached for my locket. Thank you, Mama.
Jackson’s protective arm gently steered me behind him. Cuff continued to growl in Kramer’s direction.
Kramer’s eyes narrowed to two thin slits. “Forget it, man. Just keep your girlfriend’s nose out of my shit.”
Jackson pointed. “I suggest you turn around and get lost.”
Kramer chuckled. “Oh, yeah?”
In a flash, Jackson advanced and positioned himself inches from Kramer. “Dude, I’m not playing.”
A five second eye-to-eye showdown ended in a huff from Kramer as he turned and moseyed down the sidewalk as if he were taking an evening stroll. His boldness, and the way he strutted away unnerved me.
“He’s disturbing.” I shook out my trembling hands, trying to calm myself.
Jackson put his hands on his hips and whirled around, facing me. “You okay? Did he threaten you?”
“Not really. I think he was only trying to scare me. But I asked if he had anything to do with Lloyd’s murder or Stoney’s gifts.”
“And?”
“He made a weird comment about how he could get away with murder right under the department’s nose, but I have a feeling he isn’t involved. He acted as if he didn’t know who Lloyd was, and for some strange reason, I believe him. I think he may have just been popping off at the mouth. But when he lunged at me, I thought I was a goner.”
Jackson’s brows furrowed, his eyes the color of midnight. “He came after you?”
I shrugged. “Sort of, but he didn’t touch me. And, Cuff was my little protector, weren’t you boy?”
That is true, Chiquita. Always and forever, I am yours.
“I’m just glad you showed up,” I said, my teeth chattering. I shivered.
Jackson removed his brown leather jacket, wrapped it around me, and took me in his arms. He hugged me close to his warm body. “Buttercup, I’m not sure if you look for trouble, or it finds you.” I felt the vibration of his voice through his neck on top of my head.
“Sometimes, it’s a little of both.” I squeezed him. “Thank you for coming to my rescue.”
Hey, what about me, Chiquita? Cuff yapped at me.
“Yes, you too, little buddy.” I stepped out of his embrac
e. “You ready? Daniel and Lucas are meeting us there.”
“You sure you’re still up for going out?”
I flapped a hand. “Why? Because of Kramer? Nah, I’m fine.” My nerves were a frazzled mess, but I refused to be the proverbial damsel in distress.
Jackson nodded. “All right. Let’s go.” He glanced down the sidewalk, his thoughts a few blocks away, following Kramer as he disappeared into the darkness.
Back at my apartment, I packed an overnight bag, loaded up the dogs, and we dropped them off at Jackson’s house. After my encounter with Kramer, I didn’t want to spend the night alone.
On the way to Little Bob’s Brewery, Jackson and I discussed how Kramer got released from jail. According to Jackson, the guy’s lawyer worked some kind of magic and got him out on bail. Jackson seemed confident the drug charges would stick, and he’d end up serving time. Eventually.
The Camaro’s engine rumbled as Jackson steered into the gravel driveway. A flashing sign announced, Come on, Y’all and Dance the Night Away with The Travelin’ Dewberries!
Jackson parked, removed his seatbelt, and leaned over toward me. He bent his head and kissed me sweetly, the after-four-stubble scratched my lips, leaving them tingly. His bedroom eyes held me hostage.
“Have I told you how much I’m enjoying your sweater?” He winked, his husky voice giving me the chills.
I bit my lower lip. “You didn’t mention it.” Closing my eyes a few seconds, I inhaled his usual Jackson aroma, a mishmash of clean man smell, musky aftershave, and cinnamon gum.
He tipped my chin upward. “Well, I’m telling you now. It fits nicely in all the right places. And you wore my favorite boots, buttercup.”
“Let’s hope I don’t break an ankle tonight.” I winked at him.
Inside, sitting at a high-top table near the dance floor, Daniel and Lucas flagged us down. We waved and headed to the bar to grab our drinks.
“We’ll have two of the amber on tap,” Jackson said.
I hopped up on a barstool, putting me at his exact height. “I’d rather have a white wine.”
Jackson smiled. “Okay, a glass of white wine for the lady.”
“Coming right up!” the cute female bartender said.
Jackson pecked a kiss on the tip of my nose. “This will be fun.”
“If you say so,” I said, glancing around the room. I recognized several familiar faces. April Schirmack being one. She caught my eye and waved. I returned the gesture.
“Here y’all go,” the bartender said, offering us a saccharine-sweet smile. She flipped her head full of spun gold. “That’ll be fourteen, unless y’all want to open a tab.”
Jackson handed her his credit card to keep on file.
“Thanks,” she said, tearing her eyes from him and looking at me. “Are you Steely Lamarr?”
“That’s me.”
“Oh my goodness! I just love your grandmother! She’s such a doll!” the bartender said.
“Well, thanks. We love her too.” I took Jackson’s hand. “Daniel and Lucas are waiting.” I slid off the barstool and tugged his arm. As he followed behind me, weaving through the people, I said, “What do you think she meant about Gertie? How does she know her?”
“Maybe when Gertie came here and sang with Dolly Parton. I really have no idea. Your guess is as good as mine,” he said, his voice rising above the crowd.
We made our way over to the table. Lucas and Daniel jumped from their stools and sandwich-hugged me.
“She’s cute, cuz she’s so little!” Lucas said in a squeal.
“I know! Isn’t she adorbs?” Daniel replied in the same high octave.
“Y’all are embarrassing me. I’m not little.” I climbed up and planted my butt on the stool.
Jackson laughed and shook both of their hands.
“Okay, you’re big,” Lucas said.
“Yeah, soooo big,” Daniel said.
I pointed to their drinks. “How many rooty-tooty-fresh-and-fruities have y’all had already?”
Daniel held up two fingers. “You’re gonna need two too... ha! Did you hear me? I said tutu!” He chuckled. “Anyway, you’re gonna need a drink when you see who our dancing instructor is this evening!”
Jackson and I looked at each other and said in unison, “They have a dance instructor?”
I glanced around the empty dance floor. The band was still setting up their equipment. “Okay, you’ve got my attention. Who’s this mysterious instructor?”
Daniel grinned, pointing behind us. “There she is now!”
Swiveling my stool around, I jumped, nearly tumbling to the floor. Jackson caught me by the arm, steadying me. What in the blue blazes?
Gertie pranced up to our table in a pink, white, and gold plaid button-up, a tight-fitting pair of jeans, a blingy rhinestone belt, and a pair of white leather boots. Her black felt hat nearly swallowed her whole.
“Steely! Bolivar!” she said, beaming a radiant smile. She tipped the hat back on her head, exposing rosy cheeks and hot pink lips.
“Gertie, what’re you doing here? I thought you were at home with Pop and Stoney.”
“Is that any way to greet your grandmother?” Daniel asked from across the table.
I whipped my head around, shooting him the look. He held up his hands in defense, both he and Lucas giggling.
Gertie wiggled in between mine and Jackson’s stools. “I only wanted to work off my Dolly debt, you know, to Little Bob. So, when I was here last, when I sang with Dolly, I heard he was looking for a country and western dance instructor once a month. I’ve got the moves, so I volunteered.” She shimmied her shoulders and hips and winked.
She’s gonna fracture a hip moving like that, I thought.
“Well, Mrs. Lamarr, you’re a cowboy’s dream. You look mighty fine tonight,” Jackson said, taking her hand and kissing the back.
“You’re making this old lady blush, Bolivar.” Gertie fluttered her fake eyelashes.
I scrunched up my nose at him and mouthed, Really?
“What?” he asked.
“Don’t encourage her. Pop will flip when he finds out!”
“Steely,” she said, patting my knee. “Your father dropped me off.”
We heard the tapping of a microphone over the speakers. “Testing... one, two, three.”
“There’s my cue. Now, I’ll be out on the floor working with folks who need a little encouragement. Come out and join me. I’ll take y’all for a spin!” Sparkling under the stage lights, she sashayed across the floor and conversed with the band.
Someone slapped the table. “That’s our Gigi,” Daniel said, laughing.
Shaking my head, I knocked back half my wine in one gulp.
IT TURNED INTO A THREE-glass kind of night. Watching Gertie became admiring Gertie and admiring Gertie became joining Gertie. I danced my pants off. While Gertie and I were owning the dance floor, I hollered over the music at Daniel.
“You’re right! Two-stepping is like riding a bike!”
After Gertie taught Lucas how to spin around the floor, she paired him up with Daniel. She and I waltzed, which soon turned into the jitterbug as we spun around and around. Afterward, I nearly collapsed! I wheezed my way back to the table where Jackson’s shining eyes never left me.
“Buttercup, I had no idea you could dance like that,” he said.
I nodded, holding up an index finger, signaling one minute. I dug around in my little black purse and located my inhaler, gave it a few shakes, and inhaled deeply. I held it in, then exhaled.
“I didn’t either. As long as I dance on my toes, these heels work the dance floor pretty good!” I panted. “Sorry, she took the breath out of me.” I observed her showing a group of young girls how to do the Harlem Shuffle. I took a sip of ice-water that Jackson had fetched me earlier. Either I had sweated most of the alcohol out of my system or the constant supply of water Jackson kept encouraging me to drink helped, because I only felt slightly tipsy.
“Where does she get her en
ergy?” I sat in amazement.
“I know. She must’ve doubled up on those senior protein drinks your father’s been buying her,” Jackson said.
“No kidding. Maybe I ought to try them,” I said.
Gertie and a crowd of about thirty dancers broke into another line dance I didn’t know. Now and then, she’d try to wave me out there, but I kept shaking my head. My lungs weren’t ready yet.
Daniel and Lucas attempted the line dance, but gave up after a minute and went back to a swift two-step, doing enormous circles around the group in the middle. I could see Lucas counting to himself, Daniel wearing a giant grin while he led.
I clapped and cheered them on, sliding off my stool. I swayed to the music and bobbed my head until I overheard a group of people at the table next to us.
“I bet they’re breaking some kind of law in Texas,” one said.
“Can you believe they’re in here flaunting themselves? What gives them the right?” another asked.
I recognized the two women at the table, both stylists at The Best Little Hair House in Texas. I didn’t recognize either of the guys sitting next to them.
Who were they talking about?
“They have special bars for people like them,” one guy said.
Oh. No. They. Didn’t. I turned, facing their table, making sure I hadn’t heard wrong.
“Yeah, but they’d have to drive all the way to Austin or Houston,” one of the hair salon girls said, literally yelling over the music.
Their ugly was showing, and I’d had enough.
Grace and grit. Grace and grit. Grace and grit. I coached myself as I waltzed over. By the time I reached their table, I’d gained more grit than grace.
“Pardon me, ya’ll,” I said. “But I’m fixin’ to come undone—”
“Steely?” I heard Jackson behind me.
I ignored him.
“Oh yeah?” one guy asked.
All four heads swung in my direction. The guys wore dopey faces, and the girls tons of makeup and blinking false eyelashes.
“Yeah!” I said, feeling woozy in my heeled boots. I widened my stance to keep from falling on my butt.
Just as I was about to give them a piece of my mind, Jackson’s hand settled on my shoulder.