Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
Dawson had thought Monday night would be a slow night for Honky Tonk Heaven. He was wrong. It seemed word had gotten out about the legendary dancehall reopening and folks from all over Texas had shown up to check it out.
Besides almost all of the townsfolk, there were Texas Longhorn football stars playing pool in the game room, a bachelorette party from Houston downing shots at a table, a senior dance club from Austin two-stepping on the dance floor, and a group of rodeo cowboys from Amarillo bellied up to the bar .
. . watching Poppy bartend as if she was the bar’s main attraction.
Dawson had never gone to the bars where Poppy sang and bartended. After leaving Promise Springs, he had boycotted all bars—country or otherwise. So, he was blown away by his sister’s skill. She worked the bar like she had been born behind it.
Of course, she almost had been. Rosie had bartended right up until she gave birth to all her kids. While Dawson’s childhood made him hate all bars, it looked like Poppy’s childhood had given her a skill. He had never seen anyone work a bar like his sister.
Not even his mama.
In what looked like a perfectly choreographed dance, Poppy mixed drinks, popped off beer caps, filled glasses with draft beer, poured shots, wiped off the bar, and closed out tabs.
The entire time, she kept up a running conversation with the people sitting at the bar.
Even though he knew she would much rather be up on the stage with a live band singing her heart out.
But after Wylynn broke up with her, she’d yet to pick back up her guitar. No matter how much her siblings prodded.
Something else Wylynn was going to pay for.
And Huck was just as good at his job as doorman. He charmed every woman, young or old, who walked in the door and joked with the men like they were his best buddies.
Dawson hadn’t seen Jaxon because he was working his tail off in the kitchen. But from all the raves he’d overheard about the tater tot smash burgers, pork belly tacos, the chicken fried chicken sandwiches, and green chile cheese quesadillas, Jaxon was doing his job just as well as his siblings.
Dawson should be happy his family had fallen so easily back into working at Honky Tonk Heaven.
Instead, he was annoyed.
When they were kids, they had all made a pact.
Once they grew up, they would leave Promise Springs and never let their mama or Honky Tonk Heaven control their lives again.
And yet, here they were doing exactly what they swore they would never do.
Instead of tearing the dancehall down, they’d resurrected it.
Now they seemed to be under its spell as much as their mama had been.
But Dawson refused to be beguiled by the old dancehall.
Once the will was settled and Jaxon and Tully had the bar free and clear, Dawson was done with Promise Springs.
Which meant he needed to figure out who was contesting the will so he could put his plan into action.
He intended to offer whomever it was his share of the inheritance in hopes that it would put a stop to any legal battle.
He didn’t care if he got a cent from the will.
He just wanted to put his childhood behind him and move on.
Since no one in town seemed to want to talk to him, he’d been eavesdropping most of the night, hoping to collect some information.
So far, all he’d learned was how many kegels women do each day, how the Rangers are going to win the World Series, how men not being able to find things pissed off women, and what’s involved in a sex change operation.
It was going to be a long night.
“Hey, Dawson!” Tully walked up with a serving tray tucked under her arm.
Since she had been rushing around taking food and drink orders—something she’d never done before tonight—she should look frazzled.
Instead, she looked like she was about ready to explode with happiness.
Her eyes sparkled and her cheeks were flushed.
Her words spilled out in an excited rush.
“Isn’t it awesome? I didn’t think we could do it, but we did it! We returned Honky Tonk Heaven to its former glory.” Her smile faded. “I just hope we can keep it.”
“You’ll keep it,” he said firmly, but the weak smile she sent him didn’t look like she believed him.
“I wish you wanted to keep it too. Jaxon might struggle with putting his emotions into words, but I know he loves you, Dawson. He’d be thrilled if you decided to stay.”
“It looks like Poppy and Huck will be sticking around for a while. He doesn’t need me too.”
“You’re wrong. He loves Poppy and Huck, but I think you and Jaxon have a special connection.” They had a connection, all right. But Dawson didn’t think Jaxon would call the night Mickey’s was robbed as special.
“Tully!” Poppy called out. “Quite screwing around with Dawg and come get your drink order before the ice melts!”
“Think about it.” Tully gave Dawson a quick peck on the cheek. “And great job at looking like a badass bouncer. No one is going to cause problems when they see your mean scowl.”
Mean scowl?
Was that why people wouldn’t talk to him?
Once Tully was gone, he made the effort to smile at people who walked past, but that seemed to freak them out even more. So, he gave up and went with the resting mean face. Hopefully, it would deter any fights.
Although as the night progressed, he almost wished someone would cause problems, so he’d have something to do besides hold up the wall. He was about to go check on Jaxon in the kitchen when Trouble in Pink walked through the front door.
Magnolia looked like she belonged at the Pink Pony Club, instead of a western dancehall.
She wore a hot pink, puffed sleeve, off-the-shoulder top, a rhinestone-studded jean skirt that was way too short, and heart-stitched pink cowboy boots.
She’d pulled up some of her hair into a high ponytail of frothy curls while the rest cascaded down her back and brushed the top curve of those swaying hips as she headed over to say hi to Tully.
All Dawson could think about was what he’d witnessed that afternoon at the bookstore.
Those toned, tanned thighs spread wide, the peek of damp white cotton, and the expression on her beautiful features as she’d moaned out her satisfaction.
He’d almost reached orgasm from just watching.
It had taken reading the titles of every gardening book on an entire shelf to get his libido in check.
Even now, he got a semi from just the memory.
But that desire fizzled out like a candle flame in a hailstorm when the Texas Longhorn quarterback walked up to her and started flirting.
Dawson tried turning his attention to other people.
The two bikers at the bar getting a little loud.
The group of giggling, drunk women trying to line dance.
The short guy trying to pick up a cowgirl at least a head taller than him.
But his gaze kept returning to Magnolia and the quarterback.
Maybe if the cocky college kid hadn’t placed his hand on her waist and leaned in close to whisper in her ear, Dawson could have just watched.
But his fingers brushing the peek of bare skin between her shirt and jean skirt had Dawson springing from the wall like it had suddenly become electrocuted.
Before he knew it, he was striding across the room and none-too-gently removing that quarterback’s hand and shoving the guy back a few steps.
Which caused the guy’s friends to come charging out of the poolroom.
Most people might be intimidated by being surrounded by four hulking football players—even if most of them couldn’t even grow facial hair. But when Dawson got pissed, he didn’t pay attention to being out muscled or outnumbered.
“Did she give you permission to touch her?” he asked the quarterback.
The college kid blinked. “Uhh . . . no, but—”
“No buts,” he cut him off. “Here at Honky Tonk Heaven, we ask permission before touching a lady.”
The guy stared at him as if he was nuts before he looked at Magnolia. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I meant no disrespect.”
“None taken.” Magnolia glared at Dawson. “Just what do you think you’re doing?”
It was a good question. He didn’t have a clue what he was doing. All he knew was that he didn’t want the quarterback completing a pass with Magnolia. So, he ignored her question and mad-dogged the college kid.
“I think it’s time for you and your buddies to leave.”
The quarterback started to argue, but one of his huge friends intervened. “Leave it, Turk. We don’t want to be benched before the season even starts.” He hooked an arm around his friend’s neck. “Come on, man. There are other bars and other women.”
Once they were on their way out the door, Magnolia turned on him. She looked mad. Madder than when he’d called her Ditzy Barbie. Had she really liked that wet-behind-the-ears kid? And why did he care?
“Answer the question.” She poked him in the chest with a sharp pink nail. “What the heck do you think you’re doing charging over and acting like a controlling butthead?”
“You tell him, Mags!” Poppy called from the bar. His sister wasn’t the only one watching their show. Everyone around them had stopped what they were doing to stare. Since he didn’t want to make a bigger scene than he already had, he took Magnolia’s arm and led her out the back exit.
As soon as the door closed behind them, she jerked free.
“What happened to asking a woman’s permission before you touch her?”
“I just didn’t want you causing a scene.”
“Me causing a scene? You’re the one causing a scene! And what was that all about? And don’t tell me it was about men being respectful to women. You don’t know the first thing about respecting women.” Her eyes shot green fire. “Lying to women isn’t respecting them!”
“Lying? What are you talking about?”
“You made me think you wanted to find out about your mama’s friends because you were grieving. Instead, it’s all about getting your hands on your inheritance.”