by LuAnn McLane
“Oh, baby, it’s never enough. Come sit on my lap and find out.” He put his hand suggestively on his crotch.
Well … damn! Cam felt anger thump against the inside of his chest and barely refrained from springing to his feet. “Hey, treat her with respect or leave.”
“Fuck off, dude.”
“I mean it,” Cam warned in a calm tone, but his heart was pounding. He simply could not sit back and listen to them any longer, but the last thing he needed was a damned fight. He didn’t want to get injured or land his ass in trouble! Plus, there were three of them and one of him … not that it had stopped him before. Cam held his breath and hoped they would shut the hell up.
“Cam, it’s okay,” Mia said in a worried tone. “I think they’ve been drinking,” she added in a stage whisper.
“We have,” the streaky blond one said. “And we’re just getting started. My boat is docked at the marina. Wanna go out with us, babe? I’d love to see you in a bikini.” He curved his palms suggestively and licked his top lip.
“That’s it,” Cam growled and pushed to his feet. He sure wished Myra or Bella would come forward to toss them out on their ears, but neither of them was around and the diner was mostly empty. I’m on my own ran through his head, but wasn’t that the way it had been all his life?
“I thought I told you to fuck off,” the streaky blonde sneered. “Unless you want your ass kicked.”
“Get the hell out of here, pretty boy.” Cam pointed to the door, and all three actually scooted back from the table. When they stood up, Cam felt a familiar rush of adrenaline. While they might have him in numbers, Cam was big and buff and had spent a lifetime learning how to be intimidating. He flexed biceps encircled with barbed-wire tattoos and sent them the patented scowl he used to rattle pitchers. He gave Mia a meaningful glance, hoping she would go find Myra or some big burly line cook, but she stood there wide-eyed and rooted to the spot, clutching the Diet Coke in one hand and the empty ketchup bottle in the other. He wasn’t about to actually ask her to go for help, and so he planted his feet and got ready.
“Let’s bounce,” the tall one said as he tossed a couple of twenties on the table. When his pretty-boy posse nodded in agreement, Cam felt his tense muscles relax a fraction. It appeared that he was going to avoid a fight after all. Wow … that would be a first!
6
Bloom Where You Are Planted
GO FOR HELP SLAMMED INTO MIA’S BRAIN, BUT HER FEET felt glued to the floor, and although her lips moved, her vocal cords failed to respond. Hopefully they would just … leave. Mia had never been exposed to anything like this before, and she suddenly had empathy for the women in the service business who had to put up with this kind of sexist crap. No one deserved to be treated like this! She narrowed her eyes at them, and the heat of anger began to thaw out the cold, hard ball of fear lodged in her throat.
To think that just a few days ago she had been lounging poolside chatting with her friends about going to Paris for the weekend to shop for clothes. Now all she longed for were some sensible shoes meant for standing all day long. Mia suddenly thought about all of the people who bent over backward each and every day to make her life cushy and felt a sharp stab of guilt. Until today she couldn’t remember the last time she had broken a sweat.
Mia held her breath while watching the little drama unfold. Surely those guys weren’t going to mess with Cam. It suddenly occurred to her that she knew the type all too well—all mouth and money—and it made her feel a little queasy. Were these the types of people that she hung out with? The thought made her clutch the ketchup so hard that the bottle deflated, causing the top to shoot off with a loud pop. That noise drew Cam’s attention, giving the streaky-haired jerk the opportunity to lunge forward and take a swing at Cam’s face. Mia saw it coming and with a little squeal she tossed the Diet Coke in his tanned face …
Oh, make that his tanned, stunned face.
“You little bitch!” He yelped and, blinking furiously, started swinging wildly, connecting with nothing but air. Cam dodged his flailing fists, but when his friends suddenly jumped into the fray, it was another story. One of them caught Cam with an uppercut to the chin, and the tall one clipped his shoulder, making Cam stumble backward and bump into a table. Meanwhile, Coke in the Face recovered and connected with Cam’s midsection.
Mia saw red and with a little squeal threw the ketchup bottle at Coke in the Face. It connected with his head with a not surprising hollow thump, sending him into anger overload. He actually swung at her … big mistake, because this turned Cam into a fighting machine. He swatted the three of them away like pesky flies, but drunken idiots that they were, they kept leaping back into the fray, bumping into each other in their efforts to throttle Cam. Mia watched wide-eyed at Cam’s ability to keep them at bay without really getting winded. Oh, but then she spotted the tall one grab a big sugar dispenser and heft it over his head. When he lunged at Cam, Mia let out a scream of warning and jumped onto his back.
“You … you jerk. Put that down!” She started swatting at the sugar dispenser from behind, but he held it just out of her reach. He swirled in a circle in an effort to shake her, but Pilates had made her legs strong. “Put that down!” She hung on and started batting at his head.
“Get off me, you crazy little bitch!”
“Don’t call me that!” With sudden inspiration she grabbed his ears and yanked hard and was rewarded with an oath. He tried his best to dislodge her, but she hung on to his ears until he was pleading with her to stop. “Really, who’s the little bitch now?” Mia challenged, even though she had never uttered such a thing in her entire life. “Huh?” It felt empowering to fend for herself, and so she tugged harder, hoping he’d look like Dopey after she was done with him. “Say it!” she demanded.
“Ouch! Say what?” He bucked and spun like a big old bull, but Mia held on tightly.
“Say that you’re … whoa … sorry!”
“What in the world is goin’ on in here?” Myra shouted above the pandemonium.
Mia’s attention was diverted by Myra’s angry hands-on-hips stance, and Mia unfortunately loosened her grip just as he shook her sideways. “Oh nooooo!” Mia went flying through the air in what could have been a pretty cool twirling dance move, except there was no one to catch her. Somehow the protect-yourself-from-dying part of her brain sounded the red alert and she had the sense to tuck and roll to the ground. She landed with a resounding smack on her backside and spun in a circle three total times before coming to a slow-motion stop at the rubber soles of Myra Robinson.
Coke in the Face, Tall Guy, and the other dude took the opportunity to bolt out the door. “Hey, get back here!” Mia shouted, but they ran like the hounds of hell were after them.
“Mia?” Myra asked in a low and not at all happy tone. “Answer my question!”
Mia swallowed hard and slowly raised her gaze to her employer of one single day. “They started it,” she replied in a small voice. “Those guys were being really mean.”
“Mean …” Myra gave her a stern stare.
“Yes.” Her answer sounded lame and childish even though it was the truth. “Weren’t they?” She looked over to Cam for help.
“Yeah,” he agreed. When he reached down and offered his hand, she grasped it firmly. After he tugged her to her feet, she noticed with a frown that his bottom lip was swollen and bleeding.
“Oh my gosh! Cam!” Mia grabbed some napkins and handed them to him. “Are you okay?”
“I’ll live.” He gingerly dabbed at his lip.
“Those jerks!” she said darkly before turning around to face the music.
“Are you gonna quit your pussyfootin’ around and tell me just what exactly happened here, Mia?” Myra wanted to know. The hands on the hips remained, as did the arched eyebrow.
Mia opened her mouth, but before she could explain her innocence … well, not her innocence exactly but the reason she had been hanging on to the back of a customer attempting to stretch his ears
, the front door swung open. To Mia’s dismay a police officer the size of a refrigerator came lumbering into the restaurant. And he wasn’t smiling.
Oh boy … She flicked Cam a glance, and he didn’t look happy either.
“Hey there, Bo Mason.” Myra greeted him with a tight smile. Mia wondered if that was a good or bad sign.
“Myra, there was really no need to call the police.” Mia felt her heartbeat accelerate and she gave the rotund policeman a once-over. Handcuffs dangled from his belt and he had a mean-looking gun poking out of the holster. “I can explain.” Mia swallowed hard and imagined a cold, damp cell with dinner on a metal tray and a stinky toilet exposed to the view of the rest of the scary inmates. She glanced at the door, thinking she should run like the wind. Her shoes, however, were not made for waitressing, or running from the law, and so she dismissed that idea almost immediately. At least for now.
Plus, being a fugitive from the law after two days away from home? Oh boy, her father would have a field day with that one. She turned her questioning gaze back to Myra.
“I didn’t call anyone.” Myra raised her palms in the air. “Bo, what brings you here?”
Please say you’re coming in for a late lunch! Mia pressed her lips together and wondered if she should offer him a menu to distract him.
“Got a frantic phone call that some customers were being assaulted by a blond waitress named Mia.” He paused and gave Mia’s temporary name tag a pointed look and then turned his attention to Cam. “And a big dude with a bad attitude.” Bo hitched his pants up and blew out a big sigh. “Just so you know, I am the town sheriff, not the po-leeece,” he announced with an air of importance. “I am an elected official and have the best interests of this town right here.” He patted his chest. “So now, just what do ya’ll have to say for yerselves, I wanna know?”
“They started it!” Mia sputtered. She looked at Cam and hoped he would step in and take over, but he gave her a discreet negative shake of his head and so she took the hint and shut her mouth.
“Started what, now?” Bo whipped out a pad and pencil. He licked the tip and stood there with one bushy eyebrow cocked and his pencil poised and ready. Mia hadn’t had any actual run-ins with the law unless you counted a parking ticket, but she thought back to television crime shows and knew she had the right to remain silent, and so she did. “You gonna answer me, girlie?” Bo boomed and gave her a thunderous stare that made a shiver slide down her spine.
“They were … were harassing me!”
“Harassing you?” Bo scribbled something on his pad and then looked at her expectantly.
“Yes!”
“How so?”
“They were asking me for … stuff!”
“Well, you are a waitress, aren’t you?”
“Yes, but …”
“Then it’s your job, right?”
“Yes, but …”
“And did you throw a soft drink in the customer’s face?”
“Yes, but …”
“And a ketchup bottle directly at his head?”
Mia swallowed. This wasn’t going well.
“Mia?” Myra angled her head in question.
Mia glanced at Cam for help.
“They were giving her a very hard time,” Cam spoke up, but there was a tired tone to his voice, almost like he had given up trying to defend himself.
“Giving her a hard time by asking her for … stuff?” Sheriff Bo’s sarcastic tone got under Mia’s skin. “Like what stuff?”
“Hot sauce!” Mia replied and wanted to elaborate, but her face felt as if it were on fire.
“So … ?” Sheriff Bo prompted.
Mia leaned forward. “In a smarmy, suggestive way, and then said I would be … be … stiffed!”
The other bushy eyebrow rose and he said, “As in no tip for poor service?”
Myra gave her a sympathetic look, not unlike many looks she had gotten from people who thought she was nothing more than a pretty face without a brain. “Honey, you do know what that means, right?”
“Yes, but—”
“And then you got really angry and tossed the Coke in his face?” The sheriff asked.
“If you let me answer, I’ll explain!”
“Don’t you give me any sass, girlie.”
“I know my rights!” Mia said, even though she had no clue.
“Really now?” The sheriff started scribbling on his pad, making her nervous.
“Yes!” Mia pressed her lips together and wondered if this was when she was supposed to say that she would like to call her lawyer. But whom would she call and what would she use for money? Contacting her father popped into her mind. He would get her out of this sticky situation in nothing flat. Money had a way of doing that. But then she thought of those arrogant jerks, who were likely roaring away on their big boat, laughing their butts off while knowing exactly what was happening. An innocent little waitress was getting grilled by the law, and an innocent bystander was taking the heat for their bad behavior! It wasn’t right!
“Mia?” Myra demanded in a stern tone.
Mia looked to Cam once more for help. He had been man enough to stand up for her, so why was he backing off now?
He glanced away as if gathering his thoughts and then said, “They were rude and obnoxious.”
“And just who are you anyway?” the sheriff wanted to know.
“Cameron Patrick. I play for the Cricket Creek Cougars.”
“And you think your celebrity status gives you license to rough up customers?”
“He was the one roughed up!” Mia pointed to Cam’s swollen lip. She looked at Myra, who had seemed like such a cool lady, and hoped for some support. “Myra, he was defending me!”
“Were there any witnesses?” Myra asked in a more gentle tone. “Bella maybe?”
Mia shook her head sadly. “I don’t think so. The lunch rush was over. Whoever was here had all left, and I think Bella took a break.”
“Probably ran them out,” the sheriff commented. “Myra, just how much do you know about this here girl?”
Mia’s eyes widened at her employer.
“Mia, I warned you that you would be fired if you caused any commotion.”
“I know, but …”
“You should have come to me if those boys were harassing you.”
“I was trying to handle things myself instead of running to you for help. And then it all happened so fast. Are you really going to fire me?” Mia swallowed back tears. Fired after one day? She was such a loser! “Myra, they were really being terrible to me!”
“Did they touch you?” the pesky sheriff asked.
“No, but—”
“Physically threaten you?”
“Not at first, but—”
“Oh, then after you threw the ketchup bottle and jumped on someone’s back?”
“He was going to assault Cam!”
“With what?” the sheriff asked. “Did he have a weapon?”
“A sugar dispenser!”
“So he was going to sweeten your boyfriend to death?” The sheriff stopped writing and snickered at his lame joke.
“Bo, that was uncalled for,” Myra warned.
“Aw, come on, Myra. Don’t ya see what was goin’ on here? Those boys were flirtin’ with his little girlfriend here and he got all fired up.” He pointed his pencil at Cam.
“You weren’t here and that’s not what happened,” Cam responded tightly.
“Boy, don’t you go giving me any lip.” Bo planted his big-booted feet and lifted his double chin. “I won’t stand for it.”
“What you should be standing for is her.” Cam pointed at Mia. “She was being harassed by those assholes. I did what any man would have done.”
“Started a fight?”
“I told them to treat her with respect. You’re standing here giving us a hard time when the real culprits are laughing their asses off.”
“Boy, I’m warning you …”
“Warning me not to tell th
e truth? Is that against the law?”
“Don’t go telling me how to do my job.” He hitched his pants up even higher and poked a finger into Cam’s chest.
Cam narrowed his eyes at the stubby finger. “Somebody should.”
“You’re treading into dangerous territory,” the sheriff warned.
Cam damn well knew it, but the condescending tone and the jabbing finger sent him back to a dark place where he was treated with disdain and disrespect each and every day. He somehow remained silent, even though he was seething on the inside.
“That’s right, boy, just keep that piehole of yours shut,” he sneered, and to his credit, Cam did, but then the sheriff had to go and shove him with that damned finger once again, harder this time.
“Keep your hands off me.”
“You trying to tell me how to do my job again?” Bo narrowed his eyes.
“Bo!” Myra pleaded. “I’ve got this under control. You don’t have to go any further.”
“Just keeping the peace, Myra.” Bo looked back at Cam. “And making my point,” he added and gave Cam one last hard jab of warning …
And Cam shoved back.
“That was a mistake, boy.” He unhooked the handcuffs. “I’m taking you in.”
“What?” Mia sputtered. “Are you insane?”
“Girlie, one more word outta you, and I’m hauling you in too.”
“Bo, this isn’t necessary,” Myra protested more firmly, but the sheriff ignored her and slapped the cuffs onto Cam’s wrists. When Cam winced, Mia wanted to jump on the sheriff’s back and pull his ears too.
“These baseball players think they can do whatever they please, starting with Noah Falcon. He isn’t all he’s cracked up to be, and this town treats him like a king. I was a much better ballplayer back in high school than he’d ever dreamed of being. He just got lucky.”
“Right …” Myra rolled her eyes, but Bo failed to notice.
“Damned straight. Don’t know what Olivia Lawson sees in him neither.”
“Yeah, when she could have had you,” Myra said in a deadpan tone that would have had Mia grinning, but seeing Cam wearing handcuffs took the joy out of Myra’s sarcasm. “Come on, Bo, let Cam go.”