by Ann Charles
Speak of the hazel-eyed devil. Claire’s chest loosened at the thought of Mac right outside, waiting.
Grabbing some paper towels, she checked her reflection one last time and tried to blink away the confusion she felt swirling behind her eyes about her non-pregnancy and her mother’s tales of the past. Other than a scrape over her right cheek that she’d received somehow in the midst of drywalling earlier in the day, she looked pretty good. Her teeth had nothing lodged in them and her T-shirt had no ketchup stains. “Bonus,” she whispered.
Should she go out there and tell Mac about the baby now? Would it do any good for him to know? Did she want to see what his reaction would be after worrying about it for the last week?
“I’m crazy for loving you,” Ronnie sang from the stall, her Patsy Cline impersonation decent considering Ronnie’s condition.
“Aw, isn’t that sweet,” Claire pinched some color into her cheeks. “I love you, too, you two-bit drunk.”
“Why are you still,” hiccup, “in here with me?”
Good question. Mac was waiting, and now that she was baby-free, she had a watch to find—make that a stolen watch to find according to her gin-tipsy sister.
And the story behind a box of glass eyeballs to figure out.
And an archaeology crew to spy on.
The toilet paper roll thump-thump-thumped, then something crashed onto the floor in the stall. “Oh, crap,” Ronnie said and then snort-cackled. “I think I just violated the toilet paper holder. Someone better call Sheriff Hardass.”
“No more gin for you, ya lush.” Claire pulled open the door to the bar.
It was time to stop screwing around and get back on the case.
Chapter Seventeen
Mac was not sure where he’d gone wrong.
After Ronnie had left to go find Claire, Kate had come over and asked if he wanted a beer.
“Sure,” he’d said. “Whatever you have on tap is fine.”
When she slid the glass of beer his way, he thanked her and asked, “How’s life treating you these days?”
That was when everything had gone to shit.
Kate’s eyes welled up without warning, tears spilling onto her cheeks.
He lowered his beer. “Kate?”
She broke out in sobs, something he had not seen her do before. Hiding behind a bar towel, she ran into the backroom and left Mac sitting there, his jaw unhinged.
“What did I say?” He stood, hesitating as the bar went on with life around him. Should he follow her? Should he wait for Claire first?
He glanced around the crowded room, looking for answers. The sight of Deborah playing cards with Chester and Manny at the back table made him do a double take. What was she doing here? This place was below her station, wasn’t it?
He watched as Deborah poured herself a glass of beer, the foam pouring over the rim and onto the table. Manny grinned and picked up her glass while she mopped up the mess with some napkins. He took a sip before handing it back to her. She playfully slapped Manny’s arm while laughing. Then she stole Chester’s cigar, stuck it between her lips, and dealt out a round of cards.
What in the hell was going on? Had someone slipped Deborah some roofies?
A loud cheer from the other side of the room pulled his attention away from the corner table. His focus locked onto the backside of a brunette on the dance floor who had some blonde cowboy’s arm twisted behind his back. For a moment, Mac thought maybe this was some new dance move, but then she swept the cowboy’s feet out from under him and dropped the guy face first onto the floor. Before the crowd of onlookers swallowed them from his view, he caught a glimpse of Natalie’s profile as she leaned over the cowboy and yelled, “You lose! Pay up, sucka.”
The crowd roared.
Mac dropped back onto his stool, feeling like he had tumbled down a rabbit hole after swallowing a handful of pink and blue pills.
Movement over by the doorway pulled his attention in that direction. Sheriff Harrison stood there in plain clothes, his white cowboy hat in hand. He might be dressed incognito, but the way the Sheriff’s gaze searched the crowd, measuring and suspecting, gave away his secret. Mac thought about trying to warn Natalie, but a glance her way showed her laughing and dancing with the blond cowboy, no grudges to be seen.
What the hell was going on? He grabbed blindly for his beer but his hand came up empty. Instead, he found Claire sitting on the stool next to him, chugging down his drink.
She slammed the nearly empty glass down on the bar, burped into her shirt, and then winked at him. “A big drunk birdie in the bathroom told me you’re looking for me.”
Mac reached out and pinched her arm.
“Hey!” she slapped his hand away. “What was that for?”
“You’re real.”
“No shit.”
“For a minute there I thought I was having a dream.” Or a nightmare.
“You’re supposed to pinch yourself if you think you’re dreaming, not me.”
“You’re more fun to pinch.” His gaze drifted down her snug blue T-shirt with South Dakota State University Jackrabbits plastered in yellow across her chest. “More fun to touch all around.”
She sat up straight, rounding out the words below her v-neck shirt even more. “No touching allowed until you tell me why Dr. García needed you up at the mine. Did they find something?” She leaned closer, her brown eyes narrowing. “Something of Joe’s?”
“Relax, Slugger. He wants to check out some other areas of the Lucky Monk that he thinks may have been used by the people who were living in the cave before it was mined. Back when they first got rolling, I’d told him much of that mine isn’t stable. Today, he wanted to show me where they want to dig, make sure I was okay with it, and if so, see what I thought the danger level would be.”
“Why was he in such a hurry?”
“One of his crew found some pot shards in one of the off-limits areas. Before word got out that they were digging in unauthorized areas, he wanted to okay it with me.”
“I don’t like it.”
“It’s just a chamber and a short drift that is partially collapsed. With some shoring, it should be safe.”
“I wasn’t thinking safety.” She grabbed his arm. “You know Joe liked to play hide-the-stolen-treasure in those mines. What if they stumble onto something big that he hid, talk it up in the papers, and someone else puts one and one together and comes to Jackrabbit Junction to double-check their addition?”
She had a point, but tonight he was more interested in her other, not so paranoid points; and the curves partially hidden by her T-shirt and jeans. He looked down at her hand on his arm. “You said no touching allowed.”
“You’re not allowed, but I am.”
“That doesn’t seem very fair.”
“Yeah, well you don’t stop at just one touch.”
“I see no problem with that.”
“It gets distracting. Before I know it, my shirt and underwear are on the floor and I’m on the road to Shambala.”
“Shambala is a nice place to visit. It neighbors Shangri-La, I believe. Follow me out to my truck and I’d be happy to take you there right now for a quick visit.”
Claire laughed. It was a sexy, throaty sound that made Mac’s skin tingle. “Is that a pickup line you’ve used before?”
“No, and I didn’t say a thing about my pickup, just my truck.” She poked him for the pun. He caught her hand and wouldn’t let go. “How about it, Slugger? I parked around back in the shadows. You feeling a little daring tonight?”
While it was far from the romantic scene in which he would prefer to undress her, the dark offered more privacy for them than any place they seemed to be able to find at his Aunt Ruby’s place these days.
She raised one eyebrow. “Do you realize that the Sheriff of Cholla County is sitting three seats down from you?”
“Desperation can make a man do stupid things.” He grabbed a fistful of her T-shirt and pulled her toward him. “You have no
idea how desperate I am right now.”
She hesitated.
He lifted his gaze from her lips to her eyes and tried to read what was going on in her head. “If you don’t want to take a chance in the parking lot, we can drive somewhere instead. Find a back road maybe. Or hike in the moonlight out to your favorite spot like we did last month.”
“You’ll get sand in your pants again.”
Cupping her face, he angled her lips for easy access. “Trust me when I say I don’t give a damn about sand at the moment.”
He kissed her slowly, savoring. The taste of his beer on her tongue made him thirsty for more of her. So much more. She sighed, leaning into him, giving in with her mouth while her hands inched up his thighs, her nails scraping over the thick denim.
God, he loved it when she succumbed. But taming Claire was always a temporary win, and losing to her was just as much fun, especially since it usually meant she was on top. Just thinking about watching her move over him made his pants tight.
He pulled back, his breath rasping. “Come outside with me.”
“We shouldn’t.”
“Yes, we should.” He stood and pulled her up with him. “I’m not in the mood to take you on the bar in front of everyone tonight, including the Sheriff.” He wanted her alone, all his to touch without interruption or audience.
She let him lead her toward the door. The Sheriff nodded at them as they passed. Mac wondered what he was doing here on his night off. He’d have thought a noisy, rowdy bar was low on the list of Top 10 Places to Relax for a cop.
Outside, the moon sliver split the western horizon with a comma. The pleasant aroma of the desert lavender growing along the banks of Jackrabbit Creek sweetened the air, but it could not compare to his memory of the musky scent of Claire’s skin when he got her nice and sweaty. The glow from the orange streetlights lit most of the parking lot, so he led her behind the building into the dark.
His pickup waited in the thick shadows. It was no 1970s Dodge van with carpeted interior, but it would do until he could take her somewhere roomier and enjoy exploring her from head to toe again.
He pulled her to his side, draping his arm over her shoulder. “Your love chariot awaits, my lady,” he joked.
“Oh, how my heart beats in anticipation for your touch.” He could tell she was trying to keep from laughing, but then ruined her act by pinching his butt.
They were almost at his back bumper when she pulled to a stop. “Shit. I forgot my purse. It’s in Butch’s office.”
“You can get it tomorrow.” He tugged her toward him, catching her by the hips and backing her up against the tailgate. “Please tell me you aren’t wearing any panties.”
“They’re green satin with a little heart sewn on the front.”
He knew exactly which ones. Those would do. “I’ll improvise.” He pulled her tight against him, his hands finding and squeezing her soft curves. “You know how long it’s been since I got to feel you around me, Slugger?”
She looped his neck with her arms and pushed her breasts into his chest. “You missed me, then?”
“Every inch of you.” He stroked down her sides, his thumbs brushing over the words on her T-shirt, drawing a sexy moan from her. His body throbbed in response.
She kissed his collarbone, and then teased his earlobe with her tongue. “I missed every inch, too.”
His hands cradled her bottom while his lips slid across her jaw and down the cord of her neck. “Let’s get in the pickup.”
“I can’t.”
“You can. You’ve done it before. I promise to massage away the Charlie horse again.”
“I’m on my period.”
He growled against her skin. What were the chances timing wise? It was as if the goddess Aphrodite had a grudge against him.
Claire unbuttoned his pants. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t take care of this little problem of yours.”
God, he loved this woman, except … “Little? It’s not a little problem.”
She slid his zipper down one tooth at a time. “You sure? Maybe I need to measure it with my hand.”
His whole body shuddered in anticipation.
She stopped mid-zip.
“Don’t tease me, Claire.” He caught her bottom lip between his teeth, then kissed the nipped spot better. “It’s been too long.”
“Shhhh.” She leaned back from him. “Do you hear that?”
The only thing he heard was the blood rushing from his ears and heading south of the border.
“Someone’s crying,” she whispered.
He held his breath, listening. The sound of a sob reached his ears. That reminded him of something he had meant to tell her. “Kate was crying earlier when she got me a drink. What’s going on with her?”
Claire’s sigh had frustration and disgust mixed together in it. “Mom dropped a bomb on us tonight. Maybe Kate was upset about that.”
“What bomb?” Claire started to answer and he stopped her with a quick kiss. “Never mind. I don’t want to think about your mom when I’m standing here in the dark with my pants unzipped.”
“Really? You don’t want me to slip my hand inside like this,” she demonstrated, “and then tell you all about Mother’s childhood trauma?”
“You’re twisted.” The thought of Claire’s mother added to the sound of sobbing was the equivalent of someone packing his dick between two bags of ice. He pulled her hand out and zipped his pants. “We’ll finish this later.”
Claire grabbed Mac by the shirt sleeve and pulled him along after her. “I think it’s coming from over here.”
They crossed in front of the shed that sat behind the bar. The sobbing turned to hiccups.
“Back here,” she whispered, holding his hand as they circled behind the shed and trespassed into the deeper shadows. “Kate?” she called out. “Is that you?”
“Go away, Claire.”
Yep, it was Kate all right. Mac hesitated. He would rather wrestle a rattlesnake in the dark than console a sobbing female tonight, even if it was Kate.
Claire tugged him with her around the back of the shed in spite of his dug-in boot heels. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” Kate said, and then a sob slipped out.
“Bullshit. Stop playing games with me and just tell me what is going on with you lately. Is this about Butch?”
Hiccups and sniffs were Kate’s answer.
“Kate, I can’t see you nod back here.”
“Yes,” Kate spat out. “It’s about Butch, okay? Now go away and leave me alone. I’ll be fine as goose feathers in a minute.”
“He’ll be back soon.” Claire said, soft and gentle. “I know he’s been gone a while, but this is only temporary.”
“No, it’s not.” Kate’s voice was acidic, reminding Mac of Deborah.
“It’s his bar.” Mac spoke up, trying to think of something uplifting. “I’m sure he’s coming back.”
“Of course he’s coming back,” Kate said. “But my problem isn’t just temporary.”
Claire nudged Mac.
What? This was not in his comfort zone. Not even in his comfort arena. “Can I get either of you something to drink?” he asked.
He caught an elbow in the ribs for that one. “What?” he said to Claire. “I’m trying here. Maybe I should wait in the truck.”
Claire’s grip tightened on his arm. “You two will work this out, Kate. Butch really likes you.”
“There is no working this out, either.”
“Why not? Because you’re stubborn like Ronnie?” Claire jested.
“No. Because I’m pregnant, and Butch doesn’t want kids.”
Mac sucked in a breath through his teeth. Poor Kate. That was a doozy of a situation.
“The only thing to work out,” she continued, “is if I take him to court for child support or go back home with Mom and raise the baby on my own.”
Claire let go of Mac. “Come here, spaz.” He heard clothing rustle. “You’re not going home w
ith Mom. We’ll work through this together.”
“Thanks, Claire,” Kate’s voice was muffled. “I knew you’d understand more than anyone. I’m so glad I’m not alone in this pregnancy shit. We can do this together.”
Mac frowned. The way Kate had phrased that seemed a little off. Then again, Kate was pregnant. He had heard horror stories from his co-workers about their wives’ crazy range of emotions and weird cravings when they were expecting. Maybe this was Kate’s example of temporary insanity showing itself in the form of schizophrenia.
“Shhhh,” Claire said. Thumps followed. She must be patting Kate’s back. “We’ll take this one day at a time.”
Mac debated on backing out of this family moment step by step. He would try to catch an hour or two with Claire tomorrow. Maybe drag her up to a mine with him under the guise of looking for one of Joe’s hidden treasures. Sex or not, he wanted time alone with her.
“Mac,” Claire caught his hand and squeezed it, not letting him go. “We need to take her home.”
“No,” Kate spoke up. “I can’t leave. Gary went home feeling sick, and I told Butch I had everything here under control.”
“You do. I’ll finish your shift tonight. Mac will run you home and then come back and help me close up.”
Mac fished his keys from his pocket. “Come on, Kate. Let’s get you back to the Skunkmobile.” He led the way back to his pickup and held the door open for Kate.
Claire grabbed him on his way around to the driver’s side and gave him a soft kiss. “Thank you.”
“You owe me.” He returned her kiss more thoroughly, exploring her mouth with his tongue until her knees softened. “I’ll be collecting on that debt soon. Your tool belt will be required.”
* * *
Ronnie staggered on her way out of the bathroom, reaching for the wall to steady herself. She shouldn’t have downed that last drink so fast.
After spending five minutes trying to fix the toilet paper roll dispenser with no success, she’d washed her face with cold water from the sink and taken several deep breaths to stop the bathroom from tilting sideways. The gin was trying to wash her out to sea, but she didn’t want to be caught in its riptide anymore. All she wanted was to sit in The Shaft and watch the world move around her while she picked up the pieces of her life and started the reassembly process.