Chapter 11 #2
They went around front to Willow, who was waiting impatiently in her SUV. “Tonight would be nice,” she called.
“We’re fixin’ to walk,” Ethan said. “Such a nice night.”
“Get in, I’ll drive you.”
Ethan put a hand over his heart. “You don’t trust us?”
“Not as far as I can throw you,” Willow replied.
“Here, then.” He pulled out his phone and tapped, causing a whoosh sound. Then a Ping came from inside the SUV.
Willow glanced at her phone, which was in its holder on her dash. “Why’re you sharin’ your location with me?”
“So you can track us. Now, go get your Sherlock Holmes kit and git back here, will you? I want to know who this guy is.”
“I’ll do the best I can. You sure you don’t want me to call this in? Make it official tonight?” Willow asked.
He glanced Lily’s way, met her eyes. They shared a smile. “I’m sure.”
“I hope he’s okay,” Lily said. “Maybe you should check the hospitals and clinics, Willow.”
“Already on it,” she said. Then she looked at the stretch of pavement they’d be walking.
It was the entirety of downtown Mad Bull’s Bend.
Just the other side of a one-lane bridge, lay the grocery store, drug store, all the fooderies, a bar, three used car lots, a pair of gas stations, a donut and coffee shop, and a library.
It was lit up like a carnival, despite that most businesses were closed for the night.
This was the one thing Ethan would change, if he could.
He’d like to pick the cantina up and move it somewhere quieter.
Like Quinn, and maybe not even in town. Probably wouldn’t get much business, though.
Lily didn’t clasp his hand, so he dropped it to his side and they started walking. He put himself between her and the traffic. Willow backed out of the driveway after they’d gone a ways, heading back in the other direction.
“She really doesn’t trust us,” Lily said.
“Me, not you, I’m sure.”
She looked behind them, then up into his face. “Okay, she’s out of sight. Let’s head back.”
He lowered his head, shaking it slowly. “Actually, I agree with our resident law woman on this. If I’d been thinkin’ straight, I wouldn’t’ve risked it to begin with.”
“Oh?”
They were passing a gas station-convenience store, which was open 24/7, but looked quiet as a tomb. You could see a young man inside with thick, dark hair. He sat behind the counter with his head tipped downward, scrolling his phone.
“So why weren’t you thinking straight, do you think?” Lily asked.
He glanced at her, frowning. “Sorry?”
“You said, if you’d been thinking straight, you wouldn’t’ve risked confronting our squatter. So why weren’t you in your right mind?”
“Oh.” He shrugged. “I don’t…I was uh…” He’d been excited about spending the night with her. But he couldn’t very well say that . “Hey, did I tell you? My manager called. The single’s droppin’ tomorrow.”
“Wow, that was fast.”
“Ang said they’ve been trackin’ searches on me and whatnot. I don’t know how all that works. They liked the timin’, with all the press. Decided jumpin’ on the wave was more important than pre-release publicity.”
They walked in silence for a while, crossing the narrow bridge over the river.
There was barely space for a vehicle and a pedestrian to cross together, and if the vehicle was a truck, forget about it.
No traffic just then, though. It was a quiet night, not too warm, not too muggy, with crickets singing up a storm and the shallow river rushing below.
She said, “I was thinking Fourth of July weekend for the grand opening,” she said after a while.
“That’s only eight weeks, though.”
“Biggest holiday in the window,” she said.
A car passed so close he could feel the engine’s heat and the rush of displaced air. “You think we can be ready?” he asked.
“Hell, yes, I think we can be ready. If you can get us some acts.”
“It’s short notice. People will be booked.”
“Then get some local bands and perform yourself.”
Music came spilling from a slab-sided building that didn’t look like much more than a lean-to. Neon beer signs hung in the two front windows. Parking was in back.
They headed up to the entrance, through a set of batwing doors, and into the din.
The place smelled like beer and sounded like a good band with bad amps.
Ethan caught cigarette smoke and a whiff of something stronger.
He put his arm around Lily’s shoulders, because he had an excuse, as they wound through the barroom.
It wasn’t packed, but there was a decent crowd.
When they reached the bar, he held up a hand and the barkeep saw it easily. One of the benefits of being as big as he was. He held up two fingers and pointed to the taps.
The barkeep nodded, reached for beer mugs, filled them up, and slid them along the hardwood. Ethan handed one to Lily, then replaced his arm around her, and guided her back away from the bar and through the crowd of locals.
“Table!” Lily said, pointing to where two people were rising, pulling on their jackets, and picking up their possessions. She grabbed his hand and pulled him toward it, stopping short to give the occupants room to exit. Then she pounced, putting her beer on the table and sliding into the chair.
“You’re good at that.”
“I’ve got some experience,” she said.
That made him look at her quickly. “Have you, now?”
“Yep.”
“Date a lot, do you?”
“Every chance I get,” she said. “I know what I want, and I’m not gettin’ any younger.”
He was supposed to ask her what she wanted, but he wasn’t walking into that minefield. Time to change the topic. “I assume you had a good reason for stopping me from mentioning our squatter’s car? Or what we think is our squatter’s car?”
“I did,” she said. “There was brown paint on the dead crook’s fancy Caddy.”
He frowned. “Brown paint,” he repeated.
“The driver said it was from a fender bender earlier in the week, but it would be a heckuva coincidence. And nobody’s seen him since.”
“So you think our squatter…what, committed vehicular homicide?”
“Well, that would be a leap.” She shrugged. “But I do think we oughtta find out before we give up that piece of information.”
“Even to Willow? She’s family.”
“But it’s Gringo Sombrero! He’s never caused anybody any trouble.
He just sits there and minds his own business.
He helped my brother when Maria’s ex beat him bloody.
He helped me, when Manny had his heart attack.
And we don’t know the guy even did anything.
Shouldn’t we at least make sure before we go pointing the police his way? ”
“That’s what the sheriff’s department is for, Lil.”
“I know,” she said. “Still…I just have this feeling about him.” She took a long drink.
“Yeah. Me, too,” he admitted.
The band started a new song, a cover of Patsy Cline’s “Crazy.”
Lily popped up and grabbed Ethan’s hand. “I love this song.” She tugged him a few steps away from the table, hooked her hands behind his neck, and started to move to the music.
He put his hands on her waist, when what he wanted to do was wrap his arms all the way around her and pull her right up close.
He couldn’t do that, but she kept inching closer, and he wasn’t doing a very good job stopping her.
She turned her face up to his, and her breath smelled like that beer, and her eyes sparkled.
His arms tightened around her waist all by themselves. A sigh escaped, or maybe he’d squeezed it from her. God, she was beautiful.
Oh, he was in so much trouble, here. The place was dim and smoky, the music was good and yearning, and she was warm and sexy in his arms.
He wanted to kiss her, and he thought she knew it.
She pressed a little closer, and their hips moved together from side to side in time with the singer’s deep, dulcet heartache.
Around them, a handful of couples hugged close, heads rested on shoulders and cheeks against cheeks.
Somebody was smoking at the bar. Nobody cared.
His arms closed around her a little more.
She took one of his hands in hers and put it right on her butt, and he squeezed without even meaning to. His hand just acted on its own. She laid her head on his chest. “This is nice.”
“What, uh—” His voice came out all raspy. He cleared his throat. “What happened to hands-off at work?”
“This look like work to you?” She didn’t lift her head as she spoke. “Try pretending there’s nothing else in the world right now except the two of us and that song. There’s only one more verse anyway.”
Ethan heard her and felt the suggestion straight to his bones, which surprised him because he was feeling so much else at the same time. Arousal, mainly, but with a healthy dose of fear and trepidation.
“It’s just a dance, Ethan,” she whispered.
He sighed, releasing all his resistance with his breath and deciding to take her suggestion. Pretend there was nothing else. Stop being afraid of this, just for one dance.
He wanted his fingers in her hair, so he moved his hand from her waist to the back of her head and threaded them there. Her hair’s herbal scent wafted up, and he closed his eyes and breathed her in.
“Nice, right?” she asked softly.
“Nice,” he said. “But we?—”
Her finger was across his lips faster than a quickdraw. So he shut up and relaxed into the dance. The song ended, and she smiled up into his eyes. “That was amazing.” Then she returned to her chair and drank deeply of her beer.
Ethan didn’t order a second beer. He got a sweet tea. He didn’t trust himself to drink around her even though he rarely got a buzz from beer.
He looked at his phone again. Watching for that text from Willow, telling him it was safe to head back to the cantina. Hell.
“I was probably out of line on the dance floor,” Lily said.
“You were wonderful on the dance floor.”
She lowered her chin. “If a guy acted like that…” She didn’t finish, just shook her head. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”
“The only discomfort you gave me was the kind a cold shower’ll fix,” he said.
Her cheeks got even redder. “I’m not usually so…I mean…”
“You were fine,” he said. “You are fine.”
A waitress came by to plunk two bowls on their table.
One held pretzels, the other, Cajun mixed nuts.
She leaned low to put the bowls down, as if her arms wouldn’t reach unless her chest was at Ethan’s eye level.
She took her time about it, too, moving the bowls, turning them, as if their positioning had to be perfect before she straightened again.
She had lovely round breasts, elevated by a red pushup bra, the lace edges of which were visible in the scooped neckline of her tight, tight blouse.
“You’re Ethan Brand, aren’t you?” she asked.
“That’s Fred Brand, Ethan’s brother,” Lily said. “A true fan would know the difference.”
“Oh.” She shrugged and walked away.
Ethan was rapt, watching Lily in action, thinking how quick she was, how clever, how freaking funny. How irresistible.
She caught him looking and arched her brows. “That was a fan. I should’ve let you handle it. I just keep messing up tonight.”
“She wasn’t a fan. Not like you mean, anyway. She just wanted to add me to her body count.”
“Well, to be fair, so do I.” She clapped a hand over her mouth and her eyes widened. She looked around as if for something to blame, and her blue gaze fell on her two empty beer mugs.
“When did you get so sassy, Lil?” Ethan was flattered right to his boots.
She lowered her hand from her mouth. “It’s the beer,” she said. “Why don’t we start back? I think the fresh air would do me good.”
“Okay. I’ll take care of our tab.” He got up, plunked some cash on the table for the waitress, and walked back to the bar to settle up.