She closed her eyes. Maybe she'd imagined Jack's touch. Maybe it was all in her head, but she hadn't imaginedhow good it was to feel a solid healthy man again. So good to feel protected. So good to feel his chest againsther back and his arm around her waist. God help her, she missed that feeling. Missed it so much that she'dwanted to melt into Jack. She wondered what he'd have done if she'd turned and kissed the side of his neck. Runher tongue up his throat and her hands all over the muscles of his chest. Naked, like he'd been in his kitchen thatfirst night. Half naked with his jeans hanging low on his hips so she could slide her palms over his flat abdomenand sink to her knees as she pressed her face into his button fly.
Daisy's lids flew open. Jack was the last man on the planet she should be fantasizing about licking and touching.
The last man on the plant who should make her think of sex.
It's been a long time, is all, she told herself as she pushed away from the door. She opened a drawer and pulledout a pair of bikini panties and her bra. She was thirty-three, and before Steven's illness, they'd had a very activesex life. Daisy liked sex and she missed it. She supposed it had only been a matter of time before her desire forintimacy returned. It was just too bad it had returned right now. Today. And it was really too bad Jack had beenthe trigger.
For so many obvious reasons, sex between her and Jack was out of the question.
Daisy walked from her room to the bathroom down the hail. But sex between her and someone other than Jackmight be a possibility. She'd only been with two different men her whole life, maybe it was time to experiment.
She had two and a half days now before she returned to Seattle. Maybe it was time to live it up before shereturned home and was a mom again. Maybe she should add "get laid" to her to-do list.
A little stab of guilt poked her conscience. Steven was dead, so why did it feel like she was contemplatingcheating on her husband? She didn't know, but there it was. Right in front of her, and she knew that her guiltwould probably keep her from actually doing it with anyone.
Too bad, because she probably would have liked some no-strings-attached sex. The kind where you just grabsomeone, do it, and never see them again.
She turned on the bathtub and held her hand under the running water. But maybe if she just did it, she wouldn'tfeel guilty anymore. Maybe it was like losing her virginity all over again. The first time was the most difficult.
After that, it got a whole lot easier. A whole lot funner, too.
Of course she didn't have a candidate. Maybe she should pick up some guy at a bat Someone who looked likeHugh Jackman or that one guy in the Diet Coke commercial. No, those men reminded her too much of Jack.
She should pick someone totally different. Someone like Viggo Mortensen or Brad Pitt. No, MatthewMcConaughey.
Oh yeah.
But it would never be Jack. Never. That would be really really bad.
Or, a little voice inside her head whispered, it would be really, really good. As she dropped her shorts andpulled her T-shirt over her head, she was afraid that if she wasn't careful, the little voice in her head was goingto get her into big, big trouble.
Chapter Eight
Most weekend nights, Slim Gem's packed 'em in from as far away as Amarillo and Dalhart. The live bandplayed country, loud country, with an occasional southern-rock oldy thrown in. The big dance floors werealways crowded, and the mechanical bulls were always running & taking on all corners with a pocket full ofcash. Three different bars poured a continuous stream of icy beer, straight shots, or fruity drinks with paperumbrellas.
All manner of stuffed mammals and reptiles peered through glass eyes from built-in platforms high on thewalls. If the Road Kill Bar was a taxidermist's dream, Slim Gem's was his wet dream. Although why anyonewould proudly display a hog-nosed skunk was anyone's guess.
Within the dim bat Wranglers, Rockies and Lees ruled. Worn fight and in every imaginable color by womenstuffed into fringed cowgirl blouses with horses appliqued on the back. T-shirts with conches and feathers, thebottoms shredded to look like fringe, were also a big favorite as well as prairie skirts with big ruffles or jacarddresses with sweetheart collars. Hair ranged from Texas big, teased and sprayed within an inch of its life - hathead - or hair so long and straight it hung to the waist or the backs of the knees.
The men preferred Wranglers or Levi's in blue or black, some so tight a person had to wonder where they'dpacked their goods. While there were men who wore starched cowboy shirts with racing flames or Americanflags on them, T-shirts were the hands-down favorite. Most advertised beer and John Deere tractors, whileothers had a different message. The ubiquitous "Don't mess with Texas" was out in full force, while "Yeah, I'mdrunk, but you're still ugly," competed with the ever hopeful "Let's get Nekid."
Cowboy boots kept time with the band, and belt buckles big enough to be considered lethal weapons flashedbeneath the dance floor's multicolored lights.
Daisy had never been inside Slim Clem's. When she'd lived in Lovett before, she'd been too young. But she'dheard about it. Everybody had heard about it, and she figured it was about time she experienced it for herself.
That Friday afternoon, Lily got a job at the deli counter in Albertsons, and the two of them decided to celebrateat Slim's. Daisy hadn't really brought anything to wear to a honky-tonk, but in the back of her closet, she dugout her old cowboy boots. She shoved her feet into them, and while a little light, they still fit. Her junior year inhigh school, she'd saved for several months to buy the red boots with the white heart inserts. Lucky for her,cowboy boots were never out of style in Texas.
In the box with her yearbooks, she pulled out her daddy's belt with the big silver buckle he'd won at the Top '0Texas rodeo a few short months before a bull had stomped and killed him.
She put on her white cotton tank dress that closed down her breasts with eight little snaps, and she wrapped herdaddy's rodeo belt around her hips. The name Rowdy was tooled into the brown leather in back. The buckle washeavy and hung down a little, but she thought she looked ready for a cowboy bar.
She rolled her hair on big curlers and stuck big hoops in her ears. She outlined her eyes with black liner, put onher shiniest red lipstick, and decided that she looked cowgirl chic.
Lily dressed for the bar in light jeans and a pink blouse she tied just below her breasts so that her navel ringshowed. Her makeup was heavier than Daisy's; and when she kissed Pippen goodbye on her mother's porch, sheleft big pink lip prints on his cheek.
On the way to Slim Clem's, Lily laughed and joked and seemed ready to get on with her life. Daisy was readytoo. Tomorrow she was going to tell Jack about Nathan, and this time nothing would stop her. Not her own fear,not a kid's birthday party, and not even a half-naked woman in his house. She was leaving Sunday afternoon,and she had to tell him tomorrow. There was no other choice.
It was after nine when they walked into the bar.
The band was singing Brooks and Dunn's "My Maria" as they paid their five-dollar cover charge. While theband hit the high notes of the song, Daisy and Lily made their way through the crowd to the closest bar andordered two Lone Stars from the tap. Daisy paid for the first round, and the two of them lucked out and found atable near the dance floor. They sat in chairs next to each other and theft conversation turned to a critique of thepeople around them.
"Get a load of that guy over there in the beige cowboy shirt and hat," Lily said next to Daisy's ear.
Since that described quite a few of the men in the bar, she had to point with her glass. "He's got on jeans sotight, he must have been poured in 'em wet."
The cowboy in question was tall and lean and looked tough and hard enough to wrestle steers. "Wrangler buttsdrive us nuts," Daisy recited through a smile and raised her beer to her lips.
"Yes, they do," Lily agreed. Daisy couldn't recall the last time she'd been out with the girls; she'd forgotten howmuch she missed it. How much she needed to relax and laugh. Most of all, she was pleasantly surprised at howmuch she en
joyed being with her sister. The two of them laughed and scored the parade of male butts two-stepping and boot-scooting across the floor in front of them. Lily pointed to a guy in a pair of Roper's, andDaisy bent her head to one side. She had to admit, it took a very nice butt to took good in Roper's. Daisy gavehim an eight, Lily a ten, they compromised on a nine.
"Did you see Ralph Fiennes's naked ass in Red Dragon?" Lily asked.
Daisy shook her head. "I don't really like to watch scary movies now that I live alone."
"Well, fast forward over the scary parts. You have to rent the video just to see Ralph's ass. He is definitely fine."
Daisy took a drink from her beer. "I saw him inMaid in Manhattan. The movie sucked, but he looked good."
"There's a minus six," Lily said as she pointed her glass at a man in a pair of denim bib overalls and a tank top.
"The movie sucked because of J. Lo. They should have cast someone else." Lily smiled. "Like me."
Daisy felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to look up past a T-shirt that said HOLD MY BEER WHILE IKISS YOUR GIRLFRIEND and into the face of Tucker Gooch. She'd graduated high school with Tucker.
His mother, Luda Mae, had taught Home Ec at Lovett high. Tucker had often been sent to her room to sit outhis punishment for some misdeed, like getting caught making out in the girls' bathroom.
Daisy stood, and from what she could see of him now, his dark hair was quite thin on top, but his eyes stillshined with mischief and his mouth was curved into an irresistible smile.
"Hello, Tucker. How are you?"
He gave her a big hug. "I'm good." He held her a little fight, but his hands didn't roam down her back to herbehind like they used to. "Come dance with me," he said.
She looked at Lily. "Do you mind?"
Lily shook her head, and Daisy followed Tucker out onto the dance floor. The band struck up Toby Keith's,"Who's Your Daddy?" and Tucker lead her in the two-step. Before his illness, she and Steven had danced in afew dubs around Seattle. For several beats of the drum and slides of the steel guitar, she was afraid she'dforgotten how to dance. But dancing to country was in her blood, and she took to it again quicker than a chickenon a Cheeto. As Tucker spun her and moved with her across the floor, she felt another part of herself slide intoplace. The part of her that could relax and laugh and have fun.
At least for tonight.
Jack grabbed his beer from the bar then raised the bottle of Pearl to his lips. Over the bottom of the bottle, hisgaze came to rest on the dance floor across the bar and the flash of white. He'd noticed Daisy the second she andLily walked in the door. Not that he'd been looking, but those two women were hard to miss. They didn't quitefit in at Slim Clem's. Like two eclairs in a meat-and-potatoes crowd, and Jack was certain there were more thana few men in the bar thinking about eating dessert before dinner.
He lowered the bottle and shoved his free hand up to his knuckles in the front pocket of his Levi's.
He returned his gaze to Gina Brown, who stood in front of him talking about the mechanical bulls in back.
Apparently, since she was here so much, Slim's had offered her a job giving riding lessons on the weekends.
"The gal I taught this afternoon was about sixty-five," she said. "I put her up on Thunder and..."
Jack didn't give a rat's about Thunder. What he wanted to know was if his "worst nightmare" had known hewould be here. He wouldn't put it past her, but if she thought he was going to get all chatty with her, she wasdoomed to disappointment. Usually, Jack preferred bars that were a little less crowded than Slim's, but it wasBuddy Calhoun's last night in town, and Buddy had talked him into coming to the bar. At the moment Buddywas taking his chances with one of the bulls in the back room. Personally, Jack didn't understand the appeal ofgetting thrown from a machine into a bunch of thick pads on the floor. He'd always figured that if you wanted toride a bull, you should climb up onto a real one and take your chances.
I swear, I about died. You would have laughed your behind off, if you'd been there," Gina said.
Jack, having missed the joke, smiled. "You're probably right."
"What's Buddy doing in town?" Gina asked.
"He's here on business." He settled his weight on one foot, one hip slightly higher than the other, andhis gaze returned to Daisy and Tucker Gooch on the dance floor. The smooth glide of theft steps kept perfecttime to Toby's song about a sugar daddy and his young thing. Jack had always disliked Tucker. Tucker was thekind of guy who bragged about how often he had sex and who he was getting it from. As far as Jack wasconcerned, a guy who was getting plenty didn't have to talk about it.
"Working for you?"
"Yep." From Jack's position across the bar, all he could really see of Daisy was a flash of her shiny hair and aglimpse of that white dress of hers. He didn't need to have a front-row seat to know what she was wearing, thepicture of her walking through the door of Slim's in that dress was imbedded in his brain.
A cowboy in a ten-gallon hat moved in his line of vision, and he couldn't see anything at all.
"Damn," Buddy said as he came to stand beside Jack, "I almost lasted two minutes that last time, but I camedown on my left nut and couldn't get upright for a few."
"Were you up on Twister?" Gina wanted to know. "Twister set on high is a real wild ride."
"It was the one closest to the door." Buddy took a drink of his beer then said, "You should give it a go, Jack."
Buddy was, a real nice guy, but sometimes Jack wondered if he wasn't a couple sandwiches shy of a picnic. "Asa general rule, I avoid anything that's gonna smash my left nut."
"Yeah." He shook his head and looked out over the crowd.
Gina laughed. "I'm going in the back. Are you going to be here for a while?" she asked Jack.
"I'm not sure."
She placed a hand on the front of his denim shirt and raised up onto her toes. "Well, don't leave without sayinggoodbye," she said against his mouth. She kissed him, her lips lingering just long enough to let him know shewas interested in leaving with hint "Don't forget."
"Are you and Gina seeing each other?" Buddy asked as she walked away.
"Sometimes." Jack didn't know if he was all that interested in having her leave with him. Two weekends in arow tended to give her ideas.
"Look who's sitting at that table over there all by her lonesome, Lily Brooks. I thought about giving her a callyesterday, but I don't know her married name."
Jack glanced at Daisy's sister sitting by herself. "Why would you give Lily a call?"
"To see how she was doing, after that fight at the Minute Mart, and all. I figure, since she's going through adivorce, she might need someone to talk to."
Jack raised the Pearl to his lips, "You want to talk to Lily Brooks about her divorce?" Right.
Buddy grinned. "Those Brooks girls are nice looking and built too."
Jack took a long drink then sucked a drop of beer from his top lip. Buddy would get no argument from him. Ifhe hadn't already seen for himself that Daisy was as hot as ever, that outfit she was wearing tonight would havesettled the issue. Even from across the bar, he could see that her dress was so tight, it looked like she'd taken aspray gun and painted herself.
Buddy set his beer on the bar. "I'm going to ask Lily to dance before someone beats me to it."
Jack watched him weave his way through the crowd and wondered if life wouldn't be easier if he could be morelike Buddy Calhoun. Nothing seemed to bother him much, not even racking himself on a mechanical bull.
Maybe there'd been a time when Jack had been like that, more laid-back, but it had been so long ago, he'dforgotten.
He took his hand from his pocket, and his gaze slid to the dance floor and the flash of white. Asrnile lifted thecorners of his mouth; and he wondered how Lily and Daisy felt today about their public brawl in front of theMinute Mart. Jack had seen women fight each other, but he'd never seen a woman take on a man. Especially aman that had to outweight her by a good hundred or so pounds.
J
ack turned and placed his forearms on the bar.
The morning of the fight, he'd just been standing there at the Minute Mart, minding his own business, leaningagainst his Mustang while it filled with fuel, when he heard yelling. He'd glanced across the parking lot andrecognized Lily. She was swearing like a truck driver, and when the man she was yelling at shoved her, Jackheaded in her direction. About halfway there, the store's door flew open and Daisy charged Ronnie like adefensive linebacker, ramming him with her shoulder. She was a streak of black T-shirt and blond hair, and asJack picked up his pace toward her, she curled up her fist, socked Ronnie in the eye, then kneed him.
Jack grabbed her from behind to keep her from getting hurt, but he hadn't expected the confusing mix of angerand protectiveness that had slammed into his chest. Growing up, Daisy had been a walking contradiction, bothafraid and fierce at the same time. And just as he had while growing up, he'd wanted to shake her and hold her,to yell at her even as he wanted to smooth her hair.
But he had held her, he reminded himself. He'd held her with her back pressed to him, her butt smashed againstthe front of his fly. He'd touched her and he'd smelled her hair and the scent of her skin.
He raised his gaze past the beer spigots to the animated Budweiser sign. Red neon tubes outlined DaleEamhardt Jr.'s NASCAR. The tires spun on the legendary number eight, as if junior was doing one-eighty onthe straightaways at the Texas Motor Speedway.
Daisy had been gone fifteen years, but one thing had not changed over all that time. No matter how much hehated to admit it, he wanted her. Still. Now. After all this time. After everything she'd done.
It didn't make sense, but he couldn't deny the proof. Just a glimpse of her in that dress tightened his scrotum andgave him a semi, right there in Slim Clem's. He wanted her with the same mindless craving he'd had when he'dbeen eighteen. A hot ache that remembered the taste of her mouth and wanted to get reacquainted with the softcurves of her body. But he was no longer eighteen. He had more control, and getting hard didn't mean he had todo a damn thing about it.
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