He turned to her and spoke softly, pleasantly. “One more word out of you, sweetheart, and I’m personally calling the taxi that’s gonna deliver you to the airport.” With that, he headed over to the pool table in the corner.
Another hour passed. If she hadn’t been so worried about the time, she would have been thrilled by the novelty of being in a seedy bar with so many colorful people. Since she was too plain to be of romantic interest to Bobby Tom, the other women didn’t regard her as a threat. She enjoyed a lengthy conversation with several of them including Ellie, a flight attendant, who turned out to be a fount of information on the male sex. And sex in general.
She noticed Bobby Tom giving her several covert glances, and she grew increasingly convinced that he planned to slip out when she wasn’t looking. Although she very much needed to use the rest room, she was afraid to let him out of her sight, so she crossed her legs instead. By midnight, however, she knew she couldn’t postpone the trip a moment longer. Waiting until he and Trish were deeply engrossed in a conversation at the bar, she made her way to the rest room.
The first flutters of panic settled in her stomach as she emerged a few minutes later and couldn’t find him. Skimming her eyes over the crowd, she searched frantically for his gray Stetson, but didn’t see it anywhere. She began making her way through the crowd to the bar, her stomach churning with anxiety. Just as she was about to acknowledge the fact that he’d gotten away, she spotted him standing with Trish in a shallow alcove next to the cigarette machine.
She had learned her lesson and had no intention of letting him get too far away from her again. Easing around the partition that divided the alcove from the front entryway, she wedged herself into a small space next to the wall phone. As she examined the telephone numbers and studied the graffiti written on the wall, she realized there was a slight echo effect. Although she hadn’t intended to eavesdrop, she had no difficulty hearing that familiar Texas drawl.
“You’re about the most understanding woman I ever met in my life, Trish.”
“I’m glad you trust me enough to confide in me like this, B.T. I know how hard it is for a man like you to talk about your past.”
“Some women I don’t mind leading on, but you’re a real sweet lady, Trish, and I couldn’t do that to you, especially not when you’re still vulnerable from your last divorce.”
“I guess all of us have wondered why you never got married.”
“Now you know, honey.”
This was clearly a private conversation and Gracie knew she should find a more distant vantage point. Firmly repressing her curiosity, she began to step away only to pause as Trish spoke again.
“Nobody should have to grow up with a mother who’s a— Well, a mother like that.”
“You can say it, Trish. My mother was a hooker.”
Gracie’s eyes widened.
Trish’s sultry voice was filled with sympathy. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
Bobby Tom sighed. “Sometimes it helps to talk about things. You might not understand this, but the worst wasn’t having her bring men home at night or not even knowing who my father was. The worst was having her show up at my high school games all drunk with her makeup smeared. She’d be wearing rhinestone earrings and pants so tight everybody could see she didn’t have anything on under them. Nobody else wore high heels to Friday night games, but my mother did. She was the trashiest woman in Telarosa, Texas.”
“What happened to her?”
“She’s still there. Still, smoking cigarettes, drinking whiskey, and turning tricks whenever the mood hits her. No matter how much money I give her, it doesn’t make any difference. Once a hooker, always a hooker, I guess. But she’s my mother, and I love her.”
Gracie was touched by his loyalty. At the same time, she felt a deep anger toward the woman who had so dreadfully abused her maternal responsibilities. Maybe his mother’s unsavory lifestyle explained his reluctance to return to Telarosa.
It had grown quiet in the alcove, and she risked peeking around the corner only to wish she’d stayed put. Trish had wrapped herself around Bobby Tom like a fallen awning. As the beautiful, dark-haired woman kissed him, everything inside Gracie went soft and weak. Despite the fact that she knew she was wishing for the stars, she wanted to be the one pressed against that strong, hard body. She wanted to be the type of woman who felt free to soul kiss Bobby Tom Denton.
She leaned against the wall and squeezed her eyes shut, fighting a rush of yearning both poignant and painful. Would a man ever kiss her like that?
Not any man, her devil whispered. A Texas playboy with a wicked reputation.
She took a deep breath and told herself not to be foolish. There was no sense crying for the moon when good solid earth was the best she could ever hope for.
“Trish? Where is that bitch?”
Her reverie came to an abrupt end at the sound of a belligerent, drunken voice, and she saw a burly, dark-haired man descending on Bobby Tom and Trish from the entrance to the bar.
Trish’s eyes widened with alarm. Bobby Tom quickly stepped forward, shielding her behind him. “Damn, Warren, I thought you died from rabies a long time ago.”
Warren puffed up his barrel chest and swaggered forward. “If it isn’t Mr. Pretty Boy. Sucked any cocks lately?”
Gracie gasped, but Bobby Tom just grinned. “I sure haven’t, Warren, but if anybody asks me to, I’ll send them right over to you first thing.”
Warren obviously didn’t appreciate Bobby Tom’s sense of humor. With a menacing growl, he took a drunken lurch forward.
Trish drew her knuckles to her mouth. “Don’t make him mad, B.T.”
“Aw, honey, Warren won’t get mad. He’s too dumb to know when he’s been insulted.”
“I’m gonna take your head off, pretty boy.”
“You’re drunk, Warren!” Trish exclaimed. “Please go away.”
“Shut up, you fucking whore!”
Bobby Tom sighed. “Now why’d you have to go and call your ex-wife something evil like that?” With a motion so fast that Gracie almost missed it, he drew back his fist and hit Warren in the jaw.
Trish’s ex-husband sprawled to the floor with a howl of pain, and the crowd at the bar immediately circled the ,two men, temporarily shutting off Gracie’s view. She elbowed her way between several of the women. By the time she got to the front, Warren had scrambled to his feet, one hand to his jaw.
Bobby Tom stood with his hands lightly splayed on his hips. “I sure wish you were sober, Warren, so we could make this more interesting.”
“I’m sober, Denton.” A surly Neanderthal who could have been Warren’s womb mate lumbered forward. “What happened against the Raiders last year, pussy? You played like shit. Were you having your period?”
Bobby Tom looked as delighted as if someone had just given him a Christmas present. “Now this is getting interesting.”
To Gracie’s relief, Bobby Tom’s friend Shag took a step into the center of the circle, pushing up his sleeves at the same time. “Two against one, B.T. I don’t like the odds.”
Bobby Tom waved him away. “No need to get your hair messed up, Shag. These boys are looking for a little exercise, and so am I.”
The Neanderthal swung. Bobby Tom’s reflexes didn’t seem to have been affected by his bad knee. He ducked and caught his opponent in the ribs with his fist. The man doubled over, just as Warren pitched forward and drove his shoulder into Bobby Tom’s side.
Bobby Tom staggered, righted himself, and delivered a hard punch to the abdomen that sent Trish’s ex to the floor. He showed no inclination to get back up.
The Neanderthal hadn’t had as much to drink, so he lasted a little longer. He even managed to connect with a few punches, but in the end he couldn’t overcome Bobby Tom’s lethal quickness. Finally he’d had enough. Bleeding from the nose and muttering under his breath, he staggered toward the exit.
Bobby Tom’s forehead crumpled in disappointment. He
looked around at the crowd, a vaguely wistful expression on his face, but no other challengers stepped forward. He picked up a cocktail napkin, pressed it to the small cut at the side of his mouth, and leaned down to murmur something in Warren’s ear. The man turned even paler, leading Gracie to conclude that Trish wouldn’t be having any more trouble with her ex-husband. After he’d set Warren straight, Bobby Tom looped his arm around Trish and led her over to the jukebox.
Gracie breathed a sigh of relief. At least she wouldn’t have to phone Willow with the news that she’d lost their star in a barroom brawl.
Two hours later, she and Bobby Tom stood at the desk of a luxury hotel located twenty minutes away.
“I hope you know I’m not used to turning in this early,” he grumbled.
“It’s two o’clock in the morning.” Gracie had lived most of her life going to bed at ten so she could get up at five, and she was light-headed with weariness.
“That’s what I’m telling you. It’s still early.” He finished registering for the suite he had requested, and, waving away the bellman, slipped the strap of his bag over his shoulder while he picked up the laptop computer he’d set on the desk. “See you in the morning, Gracie.” He set off toward the elevators.
The desk clerk looked at her expectantly. “May I help you?”
Blushing to the roots of her hair, she stammered, “I’m, uh, with him.”
She picked up her own suitcase and hurried after him, feeling like a cocker spaniel trailing its master. She slid inside the elevator just as the door was gliding shut.
He regarded her suspiciously. “You’registered already?”
“Since you—uh—requested a suite, I thought I’d sleep on the couch.”
“You thought wrong.”
“I promise that you won’t even notice I’m there.”
“Get your own room, Miz Gracie.” He spoke softly, but the veiled threat in his eyes discomposed her.
“You know I can’t do that. The minute I leave you alone, you’ll drive off without me.”
“You don’t know that for a fact.” The doors slid open and he stepped out into the carpeted hallway.
She hurried after him. “I won’t bother you.”
He looked at the door numbers. “Gracie, pardon me for saying this, but you’re getting to be a real pain in the butt.”
“I know that, and I apologize.”
A smile flickered across his face and disappeared as he stopped in front of the door at the end of the hallway and slid the magnetic key into the lock. It blinked green, and he pushed on the handle. Before he stepped inside, he leaned down and brushed a swift kiss over her lips. “It’s been nice knowing you.”
Dazed, she watched the door shut in her face. Her lips tingled. She pressed her fingertips to them, wishing she could seal his kiss there forever.
The seconds ticked by. Her pleasure in the kiss faded, and her shoulders slumped. He was going to drive off. Tonight, tomorrow morning—She had no idea when, but she knew he intended to leave without her, just as she knew she couldn’t let that happen.
Exhausted, she rested her suitcase on the carpet, sat down, and propped her back against the door. She would just have to spend the night here. Bending her knees, she folded her arms and rested her cheek on top. If only he’d given her a real kiss . . . Her eyes drifted shut.
With a soft exclamation, she fell backward as the door opened behind her. Scrambling to her feet, she turned to face Bobby Tom. Since he didn’t seem particularly surprised to see her, she suspected he had been spying through the peephole, waiting for her to walk away.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked with exaggerated patience.
“I’m trying to sleep.”
“You are not spending the night outside my door.”
“If anybody sees me, they’ll just think I’m one of your groupies.”
“They’ll think you’re a crazy person is what they’ll think!”
For someone who was so amiable with everyone else, he had certainly gotten prickly with her. She knew she sometimes did that to people.
“If you give me your word of honor that you won’t drive off without me tomorrow, I’ll get my own room.”
“Gracie, I don’t even know what I’ll be doing an hour from now, let alone tomorrow.”
“Then I’m afraid I’ll have to stay here.”
He rubbed his chin with his thumb, a gesture that she’d already figured out meant he had made up his mind about something but wanted it to look as if he were still mulling things over.
“Tell you what. It’s too early to turn in. You can keep me entertained until bedtime.”
Even as she nodded her agreement, she wondered what constituted entertainment in his mind.
He set her suitcase inside the suite and shut the door. As she entered the suite, she took in the spacious living room, which was decorated in peach and green. “This is beautiful.”
He looked around as if he were seeing it all for the first time. “I guess it is pretty nice. I hadn’t noticed.”
How could he not notice something so wonderful? A cluster of deep-seated couches and inviting chairs occupied the center of the room. A rectangular parquet table sat before a wall of windows, and a silk flower arrangement exploded with color on a bombé chest. She gazed at it all with delight.
“How could you not notice something like this?”
“I’ve spent so much of my life in hotels I guess I’ve gotten kind of numb.”
She barely heard him as she rushed over to the windows and gazed out at the dark water and twinkling lights. “That’s the Mississippi River out there.”
“Uh-huh.” He took off his Stetson and went into the bedroom.
Wonder filled her as she tried to absorb the fact that she was staying in a hotel room that overlooked such a marvelous sight. She moved around the living area, testing the comfort of the sofa and wing chairs, opening the desk drawers to touch the stationery, peering into the towering armoire that held the television. Her eyes automatically scanned the movie schedule for the week and stopped on something called Red Hot Cheerleaders.
The words leaped out at her. On the few occasions she had stayed in hotels, she had been tempted to view one of these adult movies, but the idea of having it show up on her bill where anybody could see it had always discouraged her.
“You want to watch something?”
Her head shot up as Bobby Tom appeared behind her.
She dropped the movie schedule. “Oh, no. It’s too late. Much too late. We should really— We need to get up early and—”
“Gracie, were you looking at the dirty movie schedule?”
“Dirty movies? Me?”
“You were. That’s exactly what you were doing. I’ll bet you never saw a dirty movie in your life.”
“Of course I have. Lots of them.”
“Name a few.”
“Well, Indecent Proposal was quite erotic.”
“Indecent Proposal? Is that your idea of a dirty movie?”
“It is in New Grundy.”
He grinned and glanced down at the TV schedule. “Pit Stop for Passion just started. You want to take a look at it?”
Her sense of propriety barely won out over her curiosity. “I don’t approve of that sort of thing.”
“I didn’t ask if you approved. I asked if you wanted to take a look.”
She hesitated a moment too long. “Absolutely not.”
He laughed, picked up the remote, and turned on the set. “Settle back on the sofa, Miss Gracie. I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”
He was already pushing the buttons that accessed the adult movie. She did her best to appear reluctant and primly crossed her hands in her lap. “Perhaps just this one time. I’ve always enjoyed movies about auto racing.”
Bobby Tom laughed so hard he nearly dropped the remote. He continued to laugh as the screen filled with four naked, writhing bodies.
She could feel her cheeks begin to flame. “Oh
, my.” Bobby Tom chuckled and sat down next to her. “Let me know if you have any trouble figuring out the plot. I’m pretty sure I saw this one before.”
There wasn’t any plot; she realized that in the first few minutes. Just lots of naked bodies carousing on top of a hot red sports car.
Bobby Tom pointed toward the screen. “See that brunette with the tool belt strapped around her waist. She’s the head mechanic. The other woman’s her assistant.”
“And that guy with the real big—”
“Yes,” Gracie said swiffly. “The one on the right.”
“No, honey. Not that one. I’m talking about the one with the real big hands.”
“Anyway, he owns the car. He and his buddy have brought it in for the girls to give it a valve job.”
“A valve job?”
“It also has a leaky hose that needs attention.”
‘’I see.”
“They’re worried about the ball joints.”
“And the dipstick’s bent.”
Gracie whirled around and saw that his chest was shaking. “You’re making this up!”
He gave a hoot of laughter and wiped his eyes.
She raised her chin. “I could follow the plot very well by myself if you’d stop talking.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Gracie turned back to the screen and swallowed hard as the man with the big hands dipped one of them into an open can of 10W-40 and trickled it over the head mechanic’s bare breast. Her nipple puckered and beaded while droplets of oil drizzled down the side of the snowy mound. Gracie’s own nipples tightened in response.
The delicious foreplay continued, and Gracie couldn’t tear her eyes from the screen, even though she was painfully aware that she wasn’t alone. She licked her dry lips. Her heart pounded. She had never been so embarrassed or so aroused in her life, and she wanted to do every single thing she was seeing on the screen with the man sitting next to her.
The actor with the big hands began to play with the woman’s tool belt. His mouth followed the track of his fingers lower and lower. Moisture gathered between Gracie’s breasts as his tongue settled into a cranny just to the left of her socket set.