by Mandy Harbin
So much for pretense. She sighed, dropping her hands. “It’s a long story. One I’ll tell you about after I get some drinks in me.” And after she came up with a plan to say just enough to pacify without divulging everything.
“Okay.” Roxie still didn’t seem too convinced, but she turned and headed for the door. Once outside, they got into her car and Xan buckled up.
“Where is this place anyway?”
“Pulaski County, just before you hit Faulkner County. It’s a big club that people drive for miles to come to.”
Roxie had called it a honkytonk, but Xan didn’t know the first thing about country music. That didn’t matter. As long as she got plenty of alcohol in her, she could damn near tolerate anything.
“You look hot too, by the way,” she said suddenly, realizing she hadn’t commented on her friend’s sexy outfit.
Roxie giggled. “Thanks. I might have to cut this dress off me tonight. Gettin’ it on was a feat!” Instead of hitting the interstate, Roxie pulled down a dirt road. “Anna Sue’s coming too,” she explained when Xan gave her a puzzled look.
“Oh, okay.” They picked up the other gal and headed to the bar. Anna Sue talked so much that Xan figured she should’ve gotten her buzz on before leaving the house. The chick talked about everyone. Hmm, gossiping seemed to be a favorite pastime around here.
They parked on the gravel lot and walked up to the bar, Xan being careful not to mar her new stilettos. When the door opened, she was immediately assaulted with twang blaring from the speakers and a chorus of yeehaws from some of the patrons.
“Don’t look so scared, girl,” Roxie said. “They’re just hootin’ and hollerin’ in there. Someone’s probably on the bull.”
On the bull? Was that some Southern slang metaphor for something? Same thing as drunk maybe? Surely there wasn’t a live bull in the building. That would just be ridiculous.
When they walked farther in, Xan paled. Nope. It was worse than a live bull, stinking up the joint. There was a mechanical bull in the corner with some crazy drunk chick grinding on it, riding it in slow motion.
“That looks like fun!” Anna Sue bellowed. “I’m gonna get me a drink an’ get in line. See you gals later.”
“In line? You mean people choose to do that?” Xan shoved her thumb in the direction of the mechanical monstrosity, sporting an incredulous look on her face. The damn thing didn’t even look like a bull. “I figured that was just some form of punishment for people who lose some kinda bet.”
Roxie laughed. “Oh no, girl. The fellas get on it to outdo each other.” She waggled her eyebrows, nudging Xan’s side with her elbow. “And the ladies get on it to rev up the guys.”
“I’ll pass. I’d rather do karaoke and I can’t carry a tune in a bucket,” Xan said, stepping away and heading to the closest bar. She needed that drink…like yesterday. At least there were three bars set up in this place. Roxie followed, and they both ordered their drinks while Xan took in her surroundings.
This place looked like a cross between some hunting club’s rejects and a NASCAR shrine. She enjoyed watching the sport from time to time, but the mixture of dead animals mounted everywhere with posters of race cars seemed odd. But that wasn’t all. There were lassos and cowboy hats hanging haphazardly on some of the mounts, really confusing whatever motif the owner of this place was going for.
“Let’s grab a table.” Roxie walked to the side, over by the dance floor. “Oh, this is perfect,” she squealed and practically jogged in her heels the last few steps. Roxie and Anna Sue seemed much more excited about this little adventure than Xan did.
Maybe it’s because you’d rather be getting your groove on with your sexy Viking? Too bad he was too busy boinking that skank-whore-bitch Mimi. Xan might be just now reacquainting herself with this whole new sex life thing, but one thing was for certain—she didn’t do sloppy seconds. If that maddening man wanted to play the field, then she was bowing out of his game. She’d find another field to play on. If parts of her body protested that idea, she ignored them.
She bit back a sigh when she sat down, finding her inner strength with a sip of her liquid courage, hoping her inner bitch would stay hidden. She didn’t want to hide behind that persona when guys started hitting on her. She needed to embrace the attention and enjoy this night on the town. But there was a fine line between inner strength and inner bitch.
Oh Jesus, people where sashaying and kicking their boots in some kind of ritualistic dance. It was like the Stepford Wives on Wild Turkey.
She downed her drink and waved the waitress over, promptly ordering another.
“You wanna dance?” Roxie perked up.
“Not yet.” She needed to be on her third drink to even consider it.
“Okay.” Roxie slumped in her seat and ordered another drink. They talked about some of the things people were wearing to pass the time and visited with Anna Sue when she came up for air from the dance floor. When their third drinks arrived, Roxie leaned in to Xan. “You gonna tell me what that phone call was about? You were talkin’ about the FBI. I heard you. Don’t deny it.”
Oh shit, she hadn’t been thinking of an excuse. “Um, well, I can’t really go into the details, but I’m under their protection. My ex-husband tried to kill me.”
“What? That’s horrible!”
“Yeah.” But that wasn’t even the half of it.
“So you have some agents watchin’ you now?” She turned around, scanning the bar. “Do you know who they are?”
“Yes, I have people looking out for me. No, I don’t know who they are.” She sighed, really regretting telling her this much. Not that she didn’t trust Roxie, but Xan had been a very private person. Until now. “Look, Roxie, you can’t tell anybody this.”
She waved her hand dismissively as she took another swig of her drink. “Don’t even mention that, girl. I may like my town gossip, but I’d never divulge anything serious.” She waved over the waitress for another drink, and Xan looked at her glass. When had she finished her third drink? The tingling sensation in her toes told her she’d better slow down. “You want another?” Roxie asked when the waitress neared.
“Sure.” Why not? She’d slow down another time.
Well into their fourth drinks, Roxie nudged Xan’s arm. “How ’bout now? Dancing’s really fun,” she crooned with a little slur.
Xan nodded and started to stand, and Roxie giggled, clapping her hands as she hopped up. They made their way to the dance floor though the throngs of people. Where’d they all come from?
“Okay. I’ll show you how it goes.”
Oh good Lord. She thought she could just come out here and groove to the music, but Roxie was going to make her do this tribal mating dance.
“Step, cross, step, turn, stomp your boots, shake your ass, turn, and start over.”
They jumped in at the stomp your boots part, but Xan forgot to shake her ass.
“No, it goes stomp, stomp, stomp, shake, shake, shake, then turn.”
God forbid she got this stupid shit wrong. She giggled at her manic thought—probably fueled by the amount of alcohol she’d consumed—and renewed her efforts.
They’d repeated the steps about three times when everyone yelled, “Yeehaw” in unison.
“What the fuck?” She jumped at the sudden shouting. Was that their mating battle cry?
Roxie guffawed when she jumped. “They say yeehaw at the main chorus. Don’t worry, you can feel when it comes.”
She could feel it? Was that some kind of country girl premonition? She ignored her sarcasm and tried to lose herself in the rhythm. Mating dance or not, she was starting to have fun, even if she noticed a few men gawking at her.
By the second yeehaw, she jumped in and shouted with the rest of the crowd, laughing and loving the freedom. She shook her ass and stomped her feet with the best of them and after the last time she yelled yeehaw, she was completely gone.
“I love this country shit!” she hollered, throwing her hands in the
air and giving her ass a bigger shake as the song ended.
“Girl, that was fire,” Roxie said, tossing her arm over Xan’s shoulder. “Let’s get some liquid.”
They walked to the bar and grabbed a couple of other drinks before going back to their table. Anna Sue joined them while they laughed and tried sipping at their drinks, rather than downing them like they all wanted to.
But now, Xan was fighting off dance offers from every single man around her. It was easier than she thought it’d be, but it only made her a little sad she wasn’t with Brody, which immediately pissed her off. She wouldn’t let thoughts of him ruin her fun. Maybe she’d take up the next offer that came her way.
“You ladies see who walked in?” Anna Sue asked, looking over her shoulder. Xan looked around, searching the room, then gasped. “Looks like the three bees of the hive swarmed in for some honey. Bear, Brutus and Blade.”
Well, son of a bitch. Seeing Brody made Xan’s blood boil. What? That asshole hadn’t gotten enough tail yet? He needed to prowl for more pussy? If she felt used before, she felt downright sick now. What did she expect, really? He seemed to follow the advice of his little head. Men fucking sucked.
She was about to voice that out loud, turning and fuming, when she caught sight of Roxie’s expression, stopping her cold. She looked crushed. Very crushed.
Xan inhaled slowly, tamping down her anger and mentally telling herself to ignore the blond asshole who’d just walked in. Her new friend seemed to need something. Consoling? Hell, she didn’t know. She hadn’t had a friend since before she got married. Anna Sue hadn’t noticed. After announcing the guys’ arrival, she tried waving down a waitress. When that didn’t work, she said she was going to get another drink and headed to one of the bars.
“What is it?” Xan asked, reaching over and touching Roxie’s arm.
She sighed, looking defeated. “It’s nothing.”
“That’s bullshit, Roxie. Something’s wrong. You went from giggling to moping as soon as those guys walked in.”
Roxie stared at her for a while, indecision evident in her heavily made-up eyes. Then she nodded slowly. “Okay. You told me about the FBI stuff, so I’ll tell you what happened. You just can’t repeat it, okay?”
Xan nodded, rubbing her arm in encouragement. “Of course I won’t.”
“It’s about me and Teddy. You know? Bear. Well, I used to flirt with him all the time, but hell, I flirt with a lot of guys, so he didn’t think much of it. Nor did he reciprocate.” She hesitated and glanced over her shoulder to the guys. Xan refused to follow her gaze for fear of seeing Brody.
“But he wasn’t just one of the guys to you?” she guessed.
“No,” Roxie breathed. “I liked him. A lot. Then one night we ran into each other up here. He’d been pretty drunk, but he was flirting with me, asked me to dance, bought me my drinks. It was great.” She shrugged and looked down. “I followed him to his house afterward, and we screwed like bunnies.”
Xan’s eyes got wide. “Oh, wow. Okay, so far that doesn’t sound so bad. What happened after that?”
Roxie took a sip of her drink and then looked at Xan. “After many rounds, we both passed out. A few hours later, I woke up because he was hanging all over me, snoring in my ear. I figured I should head home since I was awake, you know, and he didn’t actually invite me to stay the night.
“The next day, I didn’t hear from him, so I figured he was so drunk he forgot, but then that night, I got a bouquet of flowers—not roses—with a note asking why I’d left. I was tickled he acted like he missed me, so the next day, I went up to the garage. He walked over to me, and I, ugh, I smiled up at him, waiting for him to take me into his arms, wanting to rub my hands all over his bald head. But he just stood there, looking at me like he always did. Like I was some annoying townsperson he didn’t know how to talk to. He never once brought up our night or the flowers, so I made up some lame-ass excuse about my check engine light and got the hell outta Dodge. We’ve both pretended that night never existed ever since.”
“Oh God, Roxie, that’s horrible. I’m so sorry.” What was it with men? Where they all a bunch of ogres who needed lessons in how to respect women?
Unable to resist any longer, Xan turned and glared at Bear, feeling offended for her friend. Only her gaze landed somewhere else.
And boy did Brody looked pissed.
Chapter Eleven
What in God’s name was Xan doing here dressed as if she were ready to break every heart in this damn place? It took every ounce of willpower not to stomp over there, yank her up, take her back to his place, and fuck her until she remembered who she belonged to. If one more motherfucker put his hands on her, Brody was going to go ape-shit crazy.
He’d missed her when she came to get her car today because he was helping Mimi with her garbage disposal. He hadn’t wanted to do it, but the old lady reminded him of a grandma he never had, or didn’t remember having, anyway. The poor widow had taken him under her wing after her husband had died, and he allowed it, which didn’t really jibe with his usual loner lifestyle, but he couldn’t turn the lady down. Knowing Xan was being covered by Gage, he did the Good Samaritan thing only to find out from his colleague that his ward had blown out of her house dressed like a vixen with an agenda.
He didn’t believe it. Not until he walked into this bar and saw her. And see her, he did. Through the heavy crowd, he noticed her right away.
So did his dick.
He got instantly hard, seeing her milky thighs hanging out of that fucking short-ass leather skirt. He only had a partial view of her, seeing only her back and side, and if her shirt was as see-through as what he’d seen so far, he might just come in his damn jeans. And those boots? Jesus, was she trying to emasculate him right in front of his buddies? Because he could very easily fall to his feet in front of her if she’d let him lick those damn things. He bit back a groan, then caught Blade’s amused expression.
“What?” he barked.
Blade laughed and Bear motioned for the waitress, trying not to get involved. Smart man. “She’s fuckin’ hot, and you have a hard-on for her.” It was an expression. Only Blade didn’t know how true it was at the moment.
“You don’t worry about how hot she is. You got that?” He shoved his finger in Blade’s chest.
“Chill, bro.” He threw his hands up and leaned away. “It ain’t me you gotta worry about.” He hated being this obvious about her, but right now he just couldn’t seem to find a reason to give a shit. Let his buddies know. Hell, he was about ready to inform every person with a dick in this room she was taken.
“He’s right, Brutus,” Bear said. “You like her. That’s cool with us, but maybe you should clarify that with her.”
He thought he did, damn it. But then after that mind-blowing sex the other day, he’d closed himself off from her. And yesterday he’d gone to her house and fucked her like a man possessed, but had kept his emotions under a tight leash. If she was pissed about that, tough shit. He’d have to continue keeping his feelings under wraps. He wasn’t sure what would happen if he let them loose. He couldn’t chance it, though. There was still some kind of history between them, so he had to be careful with her from here on out, but he’d give her what he could. It would have to be enough for her.
“I’ll make sure she understands how things are gonna be,” he muttered, taking a long pull of his beer.
Blade looked over at the girls’ table and winced. “Dude, she must be talkin’ shit because even Roxie won’t look over here. You know it’s bad when a natural flirt won’t give you the time of day.”
Bear cleared his throat, and Brody noticed how uncomfortable his friend suddenly looked. There was definitely something going on with Bear and Roxie. If not, Bear acted as if he wanted there to be. He could ask, but if Bear wanted to talk about it, he would. Besides, he hated it when he was questioned about stuff he didn’t want to talk about. He’d spare Bear that treatment.
“Not that I don’t enjoy hangi
n’ out with you two nutheads, But I’m going to find me a lovely lady to spend the evening with, and with any luck, I might get to buy her breakfast when I’m finished with her,” Blade said as he got up and headed to the dance floor.
As Brody watched him escape, his eyes traveled back over to Xan’s table. Well, I’ll be a son of a bitch. Some scrawny little jackass in Wranglers and a Stetson was pulling her up out of her chair, guiding her to the dance floor.
He shot to his feet, but Bear grabbed his arm. “Hold up there, hoss. I know that look in your eye, and you can’t snatch up that little weasel.”
Brody turned slowly. He didn’t want to knock out his friend, but he was this close to hitting somebody. “Let. Go.”
Bear studied him for a few seconds then sighed, shaking his head and letting go of Brody’s arm. “All right.”
He stalked to the dance floor, not hearing the people who tried chatting with him. He was on a mission, and if he didn’t get over there fast—Damn it. He was seeing red. He was going to kill that fucking little weasel. He’d just grabbed her ass.
His ass. His. She was his. Yeah, he knew that made him the biggest hypocrite, but he didn’t care. Not one iota.
He reached them, grabbed the dude’s arm and yanked it off her body, staring down at him, trying like hell not to break it.
“Brody! What the hell are you doing?” Xan demanded.
The weasel tried removing his arm from Brody’s grasp, and when he didn’t have any luck, he squared his shoulders and tried to stare down Brody. He had to give the twerp some credit, seeing that the guy had to look up several inches to stare at him. Brody narrowed his eyes and lowered his head, still leaving several inches between them. “Get lost.”
The guy blanched and nodded, and Brody let him go, watching him stumble as he fled.
“Real fucking nice!” Xan barked, turning on her heel.
He grabbed her waist and slammed her back into his chest. He felt her gasp at the sudden movement, but he just lowered his head to her ear. “Care to tell me what you’re doing out here, looking like this, I might add?” he asked softly, but his anger was barely banked.