“It’s a good price,” Hatch said. He glanced in the rearview mirror saw the big black pickup pulling into the driveway behind him and shot up in the seat. “Oh, hell. It’s him.”
“Who?”
“Drew,” Hatch said. He swallowed hard. “It’s Drew.”
Dee craned her neck around. “Is she with him?” she asked. “I really wanted to meet her.”
“Yeah,” Hatch said, aware his voice shook. He sat there staring in the mirror, and when the driver’s door of the pickup opened, he heard himself whimper.
“You ain’t got no reason to be afraid of him, do you?” Dee asked, giving him the stink eye. “You piss him off or somethin’?”
“I hope not,” Hatch mumbled as he put a shaking hand to the door handle.
He pushed open the car door and got out, leaving his hat in the car. Drew nodded at him as he slammed the door to the pickup then started toward him.
“Lord a’mercy,” Hatch whispered. If it was possible for the man he’d known all his life to have gotten any harder looking, that was exactly what had happened. Drew was wearing a pair of tight, faded black jeans that clung to his now-muscular thighs. The black denim jacket stretched across shoulders Hatch would have sworn had spread an inch or two since the last time he’d seen them. Black sunglasses hid the man’s eyes, which could turn rattlesnake mean when you crossed him. The granite jaw didn’t move as Drew just stared at him.
“Hey, Nick,” Allison Dunne greeted him as she came around the front of the pickup to join her husband. “And you must be Dee.”
Hatch swiveled his head around—unaware his new bride had exited the patrol car—to find his wife staring hungrily at Drew. He winced when she swept her tongue around her bright, cherry-red lips and gave the man a come-here look that only a blind man would have missed.
“Ah, yeah,” Hatch said, clearing his throat. “This is Dee. Dee, this is Allison.”
“People ever call you Alli?” Dee inquired though she wasn’t looking at the other woman.
“No one calls her that,” Drew said in his deep voice. “Ever.”
Once again his wife made a circuit of her lips with her tongue as though she were lapping the sweat from the chest of the man at whom she was staring so avidly.
“Oh, okay,” Dee said and smiled around the gum that she was back to chewing. “Allison it is and you’re Drew, right?”
Drew nodded but didn’t answer. Instead, he slipped his arm around his wife’s waist and pulled her to him. The action couldn’t have spoken louder if he’d shouted “this is my woman and I’m her man.”
“I heard you’re a bad-ass,” Dee said with a giggle. “That true?”
Hatch stared into the mirrored lens of Drew’s sunglasses and knew those eyes weren’t amused and the man who possessed them wasn’t interested in what Dee was so blatantly offering. He felt the chill of Drew’s stare all the way to his tightening balls.
“Let’s go inside,” Allison said, sweeping out a hand to indicate Hatch and his wife were to precede her.
*****
“Well, that was interesting,” Allison said half an hour later as she and her husband sat in Hardee’s with cups of coffee in front of them.
“They’ll buy it,” Drew said. He tore open a packet of sugar and poured the contents into his cup.
“If you didn’t scare him off,” Allison replied.
He just gave her one of his patented what-did-I-do? looks as he swirled the plastic stirrer around and around in the Styrofoam cup.
“It won’t last,” he said, leaning back in the booth. He took a sip of coffee.
“What?”
“The marriage,” he answered. “Unless I miss my guess, she’s a former stripper or hooker or both. God only knows where he found her.” He grinned nastily, thinking of Hatch’s grandmother. “What does Miss Lillian think about her?”
She rolled her eyes. “You don’t want to know,” she said with a sigh.
“That’s what I thought,” he said before taking another long sip of his coffee.
“Drew Dunne, I am not going to pay this bill.”
Drew looked around and let out a long breath. “What bill, Miss Elsie?”
Elsie Dawkins marched over to their table and slapped a piece of paper down on the Formica top. “This here bill, you little snot,” she said. Her rheumy eyes were glittering. “Early charged me way more for that oil change than it was worth.”
Drew picked up the bill, looked at it then folded it, stuffed it into the pocket of his jacket. “I’ll take care of it,” he told the old woman. “Consider the oil change on the house.”
“You’d better watch him, Drew,” she said, her smudged lips twisting. “Him cheating god-fearing people is goin’ lose you some business!”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “I’ll have a talk with him.”
Elsie nodded curtly. Her wrinkled prune face softened as she switched her attention to Allison. “How are you, dear?” she asked softly.
“I feel great now that the morning sickness has passed,” Allison said. “Thank you for your suggestions. They really worked.”
Drew gave her a stunned look.
“Well, if you need anything you just call,” Miss Elsie said. She flicked her eyes back to Drew. “You take care of this girl, you hear me, Drew Dunne?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he agreed. “You can count on it.”
Miss Elsie spun around on her sensible shoes with the crepe soles and waddled off, shoving a middle-aged man out of her way as she bulldozed her way through the door.
“What’s with the look?” she asked him.
“I had no idea the mean old harpy had anything near compassion in her brittle old body or that she’d been handing out pregnancy advice. She never had any kids.”
“You don’t need to have had kids to give pregnancy advice, sweetie. Most women her age know practically everything about it.”
She smiled at his twitch of the shoulders. She could tell by the way he was frowning that his encounter with the old biddy had ruined his good mood.
“Is the bill wrong?” she asked.
“No,” he said tiredly. “If anything, he undercharged her.”
“So you’re going to let her get away with it,” she said. “Again.”
“It’s not worth arguing over,” he said.
Allison looked at him as he turned his head to stare out the window. That he was more than willing to let it slide only increased her pride in the strong man he had become since they’d met. There were a few people—thankfully only a handful—left in town who still treated him badly. She disliked—no—she loathed every last one of them. Old lady Dawkins was right up at the top of the list but Miss Elsie had been nothing but kind to her. Anyone who put that wounded look in her husband’s eyes, though, brought out the inner she-devil within her.
“If you keep letting her get away with…” She stopped, sucked in a harsh breath.
His head snapped around and his eyebrows drew together. “What is it?” he asked.
Lips parted, eyebrows elevated, she looked down and put a hand to her belly.
“Allison?” he pressed. His eyes widened with alarm. “What’s the matter?”
She slowly lifted her head. “I thought I felt him move,” she said.
“She moved?” he said in such a low voice she barely heard him.
“I thought so,” she said.
One moment he was on his side of the table and the next he was crowding her as he scooted into the booth beside her. His hand went beside hers on her belly and she realized that strong hand was shaking.
But whatever she’d felt didn’t happen again and though both of them sat there with their palms pressed against her stomach, their child didn’t accommodate their desire to feel him or her kick.
“It’s too soon,” she told him. “It must just have been a muscle spasm.”
“When?” he asked and she knew he meant how long before they would feel their baby kick.
“Between si
xteen and twenty-five weeks,” she told him. “Probably around June or July.”
Tears filled his eyes as he caressed her stomach then removed his hand. He reached for her hand then threaded his fingers through hers. He brought her knuckles to his lips and kissed them.
“Thank you,” he said, and she heard the emotion in his tone.
She looked into his beloved eyes and smiled. “You’re very welcome,” she said. “You’re gonna make a wonderful daddy.”
He blushed. “I’m gonna sure try,” he replied.
He’d do more than try, she thought. Drew Dunne was the best man she’d ever known. He’d move heaven and hell to do right by her and their child. He’d already proven that to her months before when he’d risked everything for them to be together. The things Drew had done for them to have a life beyond Clay Bennett and Terri Thompson Dunne would have crushed a lesser man, but those things had made her husband a tough-as-nails male who took no hostages now.
His self-loathing was long gone.
It had been replaced by sheer determination.
Chapter Two
It was the hottest May Early Rawls could remember. He armed the sweat from his brow then reached into his back pocket for the faded orange rag to wipe his grimy hands. The industrial fan sitting in the corner wasn’t helping alleviate the sweltering heat. All it did was push the hot air around the garage so the super-heated breeze came back to slap him in the face.
Scrubbing the grease from his hands, he went over to the Pepsi machine, fished in his pocket for some change, and fed the coins into the slot. He punched the button then stooped over. The aluminum can barely fell into the tray before he swiped it up and stuck it to the side of his face.
“Ah…” he moaned as he circled his sweaty face with the cold can. He looked around as the door into the business part of the garage cracked open.
“It’s hotter than a barbequed pig’s asshole in here, cuz. Bring your sorry carcass in the office and get cool before you have a heat stroke,” Drew told him.
The door closed on a slight whiff of super-cooled air and Early nodded. He was too tired and too hot to argue. Jake Barnes’s engine could wait. After all, it wasn’t going anywhere. It was deader than a doornail.
Drew was twisting the cap off a bottle of iced water when Early entered the office they shared and took a seat in one of the two leather chairs. Drew kicked his Timberland work boots up on the wobbly cocktail table.
Staring at those boots, Early couldn’t help but grin. There had been a time when buttoned-down white shirts, black ties, and black pants worn over shiny loafers had been Drew’s only wardrobe. Back in the day—and it hadn’t been all that long ago, either—Drew’s father-in-law and boss had made him toe the line when it came to the way he presented himself to the public. The long hair that now touched the collar of his blue denim work shirt would not have been allowed any more than the shirt would have.
But that was before Allison had come into his cousin’s life like the sweet little angel she was. There wasn’t a person in town who didn’t like—hell, love—Allison, and that love had begun to slowly flow over onto Drew.
“Get what you needed over in ’Bama?” Drew inquired.
Early pulled out of his memories and nodded. “Yeah and you know what? I saw that Dee gal over in Dothan when I was there. Did you know she used to be a stripper?” Early asked.
“Figured as much,” Drew said. He tilted the bottle of water into his mouth. Within seconds he had drained it, crushed the flimsy bottle, and tossed the remains in the trashcan across the room.
“You gotta know Hatch knows what she is,” Early said.
“You reckon? Where’d you see her?”
“At the Bing-Bang Club out by the airport. I stopped in to get something cold to drink before heading home with that new chassis I went for,” Early answered.
“Couldn’t have stopped at a convenience store I don’t guess,” Drew pressed.
“Didn’t see one. Don’t think they have ’em in ’Bama,” Early lied. “’Sides, the Bing-Bang Club has got boiled peanuts.”
Drew snorted. “Well, hell, that makes all the difference in the world to where you decided to stop,” he said drily.
“Them peanuts was barbeque flavored,” Early defended. “Mighty tasty, they was.”
“What was Hatch’s woman doing there?” Drew inquired. He threaded his fingers together and braced them behind his head.
“Slithering down that big shiny pole like a garter snake down a fence post. Supposedly showing some of the girls how it’s done,” Early replied. He snickered. “Saw her go in the back and I’ll bet you dollars to doughnuts she gave some old dude a lap dance. Or maybe they discussed something in depth, if you get my drift.”
“Ugh,” Drew said with a wince.
“Yeah, old Hatch is one Dee away from an STD,” Early prophesied.
“Poor guy,” Drew stated. “He’s not a bad sort, really. I kinda like him.”
“Fuck me but I do, too,” Early agreed. “Hate to admit it, but I do.”
“You boys ain’t got nothing better to do than sit in here goofing off?”
The men glanced around to see a tall elderly gentleman standing in the open doorway.
Drew shrugged. “Ain’t you got patients to see to? Lives to save? Nurses to ogle?”
Dr. Trent Mackie crossed his arms, leaned against the doorjamb, and shrugged. “I’m playing hooky. Too hot to do anything else.”
“Good for you, Doc,” Early said.
“How’s my daughter-in-law today?” Doc Mackie asked.
“I haven’t seen her since breakfast,” Drew answered. “She and Bea went down to Bainbridge to shop.”
“Lord help you, son,” Doc said with a snort. “You need a good bankruptcy lawyer?”
“Hell, Doc, he’s got the money to spare. But me?” Early said with a woebegone expression. “I’ll be in the poor house by the end of the month.”
Drew blew a raspberry at Early’s statement. “How’s things between you and the widow Graves?” he asked his father.
Doc shrugged then pushed away from the doorjamb. He came in and took a seat in the other leather chair. “She’s wanting to get married and I’m wanting to run the other way.” He stretched out his legs. “That tell you anything?”
“Lot of that goin’ around,” Drew quipped. “Miss Lillian sent her suitor packing.”
Doc laughed. “I heard,” he replied.
“Knew it wouldn’t last,” Early stated. “That lady is as sweet as they come when she wants to be but if you get on her bad side?” He pretended to shiver. “Ain’t nowhere you can hide her buckshot won’t find you and she’s a damned fine shot.”
“Got a question for you, Doc,” Drew said.
“Shoot,” his father told him.
“Do women always start to get a little mean the further into their pregnancy they get?” Drew asked.
“Yes,” both Doc and Early answered in unison.
“Something happen, son?” Doc asked.
Drew chewed on his lip then took a deep breath before answering. “I might have said something that didn’t set well with her,” he answered.
“That being?” Doc queried.
Early watched the color creep into his cousin’s cheeks and exchanged a look with Doc. Both men grinned.
“Drew?” his father pressed.
“I might have answered her question with a reply that might have kinda annoyed her,” Drew said. His next words were muttered almost inaudibly. “Kinda. Sorta pissed her off.”
“What did she ask?” Doc wanted to know.
“Stop hem-hawing around and tell us,” Early demanded.
“Well, she asked me if her butt looked big in…”
Doc held up his hand. “’Nuff said.”
“You ought to know not to answer such a question,” Early snapped. “That’s like telling Miss Elsie she’ll need to pay a surcharge on her next bill.”
“Best thing to do when a pregnant
woman asks you something like that is to lie,” Doc told him. “Convincingly.”
“I don’t lie very well,” Drew complained.
“Learn to,” Doc and Early advised at the same time.
*****
They’d stopped at Burger King for lunch and were sitting in the crowded fast-food joint on hard plastic chairs at a table where only a child would feel small. Allison hadn’t touched her hamburger but she had all but inhaled her French fries and guzzled down her lemonade as though she had just trekked across the Sahara.
“Okay, tell me what’s got your panties in a bunch,” Bea told her.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
Bea grunted. “What did the man do now?”
Allison cocked a shoulder and plucked at the lettuce peeking out from under the sesame seed bun. “He said my ass was fat,” she complained.
“He didn’t.” Bea let the two words fall like a heavy rock. “The bastard.”
Allison glanced up from the small puddle of ketchup sitting in the top portion of her hamburger caddy. “Well, not in so many words but he said these pants made it look big.”
“He actually said that?” Bea pressed. She couldn’t believe Drew would do anything to hurt the woman who was his very reason for breathing. A woman he had damned near given his life to have at his side.
“Well, no, not actually said it. He just agreed when I asked him if they made my ass look big.”
“Men,” Bea said on an exasperated breath.
“I love him more than life itself, Bea, but if he doesn’t stop insulting me…”
Bea watched as tears appeared then trickled down her friend’s face. She’d been there, done that, had the t-shirt to prove it. She knew no amount of soothing Allison was going to help. Only Drew’s head—and right about then it didn’t matter which one—on a platter would do any good. Allison’s hormones were wreaking havoc with her emotions.
“You know what you need to do?” she asked Allison and when Allison shook her head and sniffed then ran the base of her palm under her dripping nose, Bea leaned back in the plastic chair.
“What?”
“Punish him for being an insensitive son of a gun,” Bea said.
“I’m not going to do anything to hurt my husband or his feelings,” Allison said.
A Mayhaw Christmas Page 2