Lookin' for Trouble (Honky Tonk Angels Book 6)

by Ciana Stone

  With that many strangers in town, Roxie found the diner owner’s attitude both generous and weird. All the woman knew of Dini was what she’d been told the last hour, and Dini could have been lying for all the woman knew.

  Things apparently operated different in small towns.

  “So, you and your friend are new to town?”

  The deep, male voice from the next table had visions of something other than a job dancing in Roxie’s head. Something along the lines of sweat-slicked skin, tangled sheets and low grunts of pleasure.

  She turned to see a man whose appearance matched his sexy voice. She gave him a smile before answering. “Yes, we are.”

  “How long do you plan to stay?”

  “Depends.”

  “On?”

  “On how long it takes to get my car fixed.”

  “I see. Oh, excuse me. I’m Cade Beckett.”

  “Roxie Ellis.”

  “Nice to meet you. So, what did you do in Vegas, Roxie?”

  “Guess you heard Dini’s conversation?”

  “I was sitting here the whole time.” He gave her a smile that had a quick lusty thought flash through her mind.

  “Yeah, I guess you were.”

  “So? What did you do?”

  “This and that.”

  Tall and lean, Cade had the kind of build that was way too tempting. She forced aside the erotic images that sprang to mind and lifted her near-empty soda glass to jiggle the ice cubes.

  “Ever work in a bar?”

  One eyebrow arched. “You offering me a job, Mr. Beckett?”

  “Cade.”

  Roxie resisted the urge to shift in her seat. The way he was looking at her made it hard to keep her mind on business. “Well?” she asked.

  “Depends.”

  “On?”

  “How are you at tending bar?”

  “I’ve mixed a drink or two.”

  “Most of my customers fall into the beer category.”

  She smiled in spite of herself. “Then I’ve twisted a few caps.”

  “Waited tables?”

  “Once or twice.”

  “Dealt with rowdy fellas who’ve maybe had one too many on a Friday night?”

  That prompted a laugh. “Honey, I lived in Vegas.”

  Cade chuckled. “Which brings me back to my original question. What exactly did you do in Vegas? Showgirl, dancer?”

  Roxie laughed. “No, that’s Dini’s thing.”

  “And yours was?”

  “Security.”

  That wasn’t an answer Cade expected. Roxie looked more like the beauties found on a stage in Vegas. Busty, built, and with legs that made a man fantasize about what it would feel like to have them wrapped around him.

  “Security?”

  “Yep.”

  “As in bouncer?”

  “Yes, I did that. Did most all of it, but for the last few years I worked the high-stakes games as an AP.”

  Cade knew what she meant. When there was a lot on the table, most casinos had specialists watching via cameras and AP, or advantage players in the games. Most people would never recognize the advantage players. They dressed like everyone else and acted like everyone else. The only difference was they were the most lethal people in the world to play against because their specialty was being the best at cheating. They knew all the tricks and most of them were blacklisted from gambling.

  “Well, I don’t have much of a call for that at the Honky Tonk. But I can offer you a job if you’re interested.”

  “How much do you pay?”

  “You don’t beat around the bush, do you, Roxie?”

  “What’s the point? How much?”

  “Minimum wage plus tips.”

  Roxie swirled the ice in her glass. “How much is minimum wage for wait staff or bartenders in Texas?”

  “The law requires wages of at least two dollars and thirteen cents if you make at least thirty in tips, which I’m guessing you will. If the wages plus tips don’t equal the federal minimum wage of seven-twenty-five an hour, then the employer has to increase the base wages to compensate.”

  She surprised him again when she stood. “So bottom line is the max you’re offering is seven-twenty-five an hour? Thanks, anyway. I think I’ll see if there isn’t something else available that pays a bit better.”

  “Ten an hour plus tips.”

  The words were out of his mouth before he realized it. Why was that? Sure, Roxie was one hot babe that he’d purely love to get between the sheets, but attractive women were a dime a dozen. Why did he suddenly have an itch to have her around? And why the hell was he offering her nearly eight dollars more an hour than minimum wage?

  She sat back down. “How much does it cost for a room at that place…what’s the name of it?”

  “Mrs. Baker’s Boarding House?”

  “Yeah, how much?”

  “I don’t know for sure. If you’re going to be here for more than a few days or a week, she’d probably cut you a deal. Hundred a week without meals and laundry services.”

  “So, are you offering part-time or full time? “ she asked as she mentally calculated. Part time wasn’t going to cut it. She could survive but not save and saving was the name of the game. That and getting out of Cotton Creek.

  “What are you looking for?”

  “Full time.” She didn’t hesitate with her answer.

  “Fine. Full time.”

  Roxie mentally ran the numbers. At sixteen hundred a month base salary, minus four hundred for rent, she had twelve hundred left, plus whatever tips she made. And if the Honky Tonk was like every other bar in America, her tips could easily be three times that of her base pay. But being cautious, she’d figure her tips as a match for her salary.

  Then there was food. From the prices on the menu at the Blue Belle Café, it’d cost at least a hundred a week for food. That brought her to eight hundred, plus what she made in tips. She needed to be able to save more than she spent. Car repairs were liable to be expensive. Chances were the parts would be hard to find, which would drive the price up.

  She wasn’t all that experienced in auto repair, but she was guessing it would cost them somewhere in the neighborhood of three to four thousand to get the T-Bird back on the road. If she wanted to get the heck out of Dodge—or Cotton Creek—as quickly as possible, she was going to need to earn a lot more than ten dollars an hour.

  “Twenty-five an hour,” she finally said, meeting his eyes.

  Cade snorted. “I can hire almost a dozen gals for that price.”

  “Not with my experience.”

  “Fifteen an hour.”

  “Twenty.”

  Cade smiled at her, a lazy, knowing smile she’d seen more than once. It was the smile of a gambler who was holding a pat hand. Funny thing was that she’d never seen that smile look quite so sexy, or had it affect her with a sudden tightening of her nipples and warmth that spread down straight into her crotch.

  “Five to closing, Wednesday through Saturday.”

  Roxie couldn’t believe he’d agreed. They both knew that the offer was about nine hundred percent more than he was required to pay. But she wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

  “What time’s closing?”

  “Two am. You get an hour for dinner and fifteen minute break every two hours. We’ll provide one meal per shift and all the water and soft drinks you can hold, but no alcohol unless you pay—half price for employees.”

  She considered it for a moment. With that pay and if the repairs on the car weren’t too much, she’d be bidding farewell to Cotton Creek inside a month.

  “Done. When do I start?”

  “Tonight’s as good as any.

  “Okay. Thanks, Mr. Beckett.”

  “Cade.”

  “Not as long as I work for you.”

  The message was all too clear. Hands off. Cade felt a grin rising on his face. He loved a challenge and Roxie Ellis just might prove to be a very stimulating one. “Have it y
our way. I’ll expect you by five. That should give you time to get settled and changed.”

  “Into what?”

  “Do you have any cut-off jeans?”

  “I have a pair I can cut.”

  “That’ll do. I’ll have a Honky Tonk Angels T-shirt sent over to the boarding house for you.”

  She stood and offered her hand. “Thanks. I’ll see you at five.”

  Cade rose and took it. “Don’t disappoint me, Roxie.”

  She met his eyes with a sassy expression that had heat starting to simmer in his belly. “Disappointment isn’t in my vocabulary, Mr. Beckett.”

  With that, she pulled her hand from his, turned and left without a backward glance. Cade reclaimed his seat, staring thoughtfully at the door.

  Hannah and Cody would be mad enough to spit nails if they found out what he’d done, unless he paid Roxie out of his own pocket, and he wasn’t quite sure how to manage that. He’d have to talk with the bookkeeper, Callie. Hannah said Callie was expected back from a trip during the next couple of days. He’d get with her and figure it out.

  Cade dismissed thoughts of how to handle Roxie’s pay and focused more on Roxie herself. He should call his contact in Vegas and get the scoop on Roxie Ellis. There was more to her story than just a woman who’d thrown in the towel on a whim and high-tailed it out of Sin City. And he was going to find out what it was.

  Chapter Three

  Roxie had just closed the front door and turned to head for her room when her landlady, Nellie Mae Baker walked in from the kitchen.

  “I thought I heard the door,” Nellie Mae said.

  “Oh, yes. Mr. Beckett had someone bring this shirt to me for tonight.”

  “Mr. Beckett? You mean Stella’s nephew Cade Beckett? The one they have working for them over to the Honky Tonk?”

  Roxie didn’t have a clue who Stella was and who Beckett was related to, but it didn’t matter because Mrs. Baker didn’t give her a chance to respond. “You going to be working over there?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Well, now, I know a person has to do what they must to earn a living, but let me tell you what I told your blonde friend. This is a Christian home. I don’t cotton to anyone having shack ups, loud parties, drinking or drugging in my home. So, no bringing men home and respect my other tenants and be quiet when you come in.”

  Roxie bit back a smile. At four foot nothing and darn near as wide as she was tall. Dressed in lime green Capri pants, a white pullover top with green appliqued butterflies and a green short sleeve jacket to match her pants, Mrs. Baker didn’t exactly pull off the intimation routine. Especially not with that squeaky high-pitched voice, big blonde teased up hair and makeup fit for a stage act.

  Still, she owned the house and Roxie respected that. “Yes, ma’am. You can count on it. Now, if you’ll excuse me—”

  “So, are you going to be working in the kitchen or waiting tables?”

  Roxie stopped in mid-motion. “Waiting tables and working the bar.”

  “You ever done that before?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Oh so you’ve spent a lot of time working in bars, have you?”

  All at once, she got it. Mrs. Baker was digging for information.

  Roxie smiled. “I better get changed. Don’t want to be late on my first day. You have a good evening, Mrs. Baker and don’t you worry. I’ll be quiet as a mouse when I come in.”

  Before Mrs. Baker had a chance to respond, Roxie hurried to her room. She grabbed her bag of toiletries and headed for the bathroom to shower. Twenty minutes later, she turned in front of the mirror. When Cade said he’d have a shirt sent to her, she’d assumed it would be a standard T-shirt. Not a spaghetti-strapped, tight, white, cropped-off top that showed as much as it covered.

  There was no way to put a bra under it. Well, maybe a strapless one, which she didn’t own. And forget borrowing one from Dini, who probably had a dozen. Roxie would have to invest in extra socks to fill Dini’s cups.

  At least the wording on the front of the shirt covered her breasts and obscured her nipples. Honky Tonk Angel was stamped boldly in red with a set of angel wings framing the words.

  Cute design. And now her official work uniform.

  Damn, why the hell had she left Las Vegas?

  That thought caused a tightening of her jaw. Not even Dini knew the real reason Roxie had left. It wasn’t something she was willing to share with anyone. Besides, what was done was done and right now she had to focus on making enough to have the car fixed so she could leave this one-horse town and get on with her life.

  As she brushed her hair, her thoughts turned to her new job and her new boss. She’d always made a point not to get involved with people she worked with. It caused too many complications when it didn’t work out. And in Roxie’s experience, work relationships never worked out.

  Cade Beckett was going to make it hard to stick to her rule. The man was lethal. And it wasn’t just his going-silver hair, eyes the color of storm clouds and a face that was handsome enough to stop traffic. Maybe it was that gambler’s air about him. That air that said the bigger the stakes and the more he had on the line, the better he liked it.

  There was an intensity to him that the good-old-boy façade couldn’t cover. And that was dangerous. At least for her. It spelled trouble with a capital T. Bottom line? She had to keep her hands off Cade Beckett. Regardless of how much she’d like to dive into that tantalizing pool of temptation, she had to steer clear.

  With her resolve firm, she headed out the door for her first night of work.

  *****

  “Want a warm up?”

  Cade turned his attention away from the schedule on the bar to look up at his cousin Hannah. She held a carafe of coffee in one hand.

  “Yeah, thanks.” He lifted his cup.

  “So the new girl starts tonight?”

  “Yep.” Cade hid a smile. Cotton Creek was a small town and it didn’t take high-speed cable, smart phones or the internet for news to spread faster than wild fire. By now, half the people in town knew Roxie and her friend had broken down. Probably knew that Dini had been hired at the Blue Belle, and that the Honky Tonk was getting a new waitress.

  He’d lay odds that tonight’s crowd would be bigger than normal just out of curiosity. It was the way of small towns. Not much happened out of the ordinary and when something did, everyone was curious.

  “Shit, there go everyone else’s tips,” Hannah said softly, her eyes turned toward the door.

  Cade turned his head to follow the direction of her gaze and a spear of heat spiked through him.

  Roxie.

  Christ on a crutch. What she did for a tank top and cut-off jeans was a sin. A tempting, dead sexy sin. The tank top was tight enough to have been painted on. It accented her full breasts and exposed her from mid-torso to the top of her low-riding jeans. He couldn’t help noticing that the jeans had been cut off short enough to make a man hope she’d bend over.

  Over-the-knee black leather boots showcased thighs that brought images best left for wet dreams to mind.

  “Mr. Beckett,” she said as she stopped beside him.

  “Roxie.”

  “Where do you want me?”

  The sudden swell of erection at her words had several suggestions spring to mind. In my bed, on the bar, the floor, bent across a table. There was a multitude of places he’d like to have her.

  “Why don’t you start behind the bar?”

  “Will do.” She turned her attention to Hannah. “Hi, I’m Roxie Ellis.”

  “Hannah Sweet.”

  “The owner?”

  “One of them. My sister, Cody and I own the place.”

  “Well, it’s very nice to meet you and I appreciate the job. Would you mind showing me the ropes?”

  Hannah cut her eyes at Cade then back to Roxie. “Sure. Come on back.”

  Cade couldn’t help but smile as Roxie turned. Oh, damn. The way the denim hugged her ass was criminal. He
better keep her working behind the bar. Sure as shit, there’d be more than one fella who tried to get his hands on that.

  The surge of jealously shocked him. What the hell? Was he experiencing some kind of alpha male thing? He didn’t even know the woman and already he was dealing with an uncomfortable hard-on and jealousy over the idea of another man touching her.

  He gave it some thought as he watched Hannah go over things with her. Roxie got to him and he knew himself well enough to accept that he’d never be satisfied until he had her. And being a gambler, the challenge of winning her had appeal.

  A smile came to his face. Winning Roxie was now the goal. But the key was making her come to him. And she would. He just had to figure out the right buttons to push.

  Yes, he was definitely going to have Roxie. Suddenly, it looked like it was going to be an interesting time in Cotton Creek after all.

  *****

  It was eighteen minutes past eight when Jayce and Callie walked into the bar. Cody knew that because she’d just looked at the clock hanging on the wall behind the counter. She turned at the sound of Hannah yelling hello to Callie.

  With them was Wes Pursell.

  Cody was about to yell out a greeting when she saw him.

  Lord have mercy. She’d gone on about it with her sister and her friends, bragged about how she’d know when “Mr. Mine” walked into her life and what she’d do, but she’d never fully believed it would happen.

  Truth be told, she was starting to fear that maybe her sister Hannah was right. Maybe they were both going to end up old maids. They’d be the Cotton Creek spinsters who lived out their lives working the bar, watching other people find romance and love.

  Then eight-eighteen happened. It couldn’t have been more than a second that she’d stood there paralyzed but it had felt like a frozen eon of time. All the noise had died and she could see nothing but him.

  He was tall. Taller than Jayce and even Wes, who stood a good two inches over six feet. His build was best described as lean but it was clear from the tightness of his T-shirt and the skin it exposed that his lean was packed with solid muscle. His hair was dark, dusted with gray at the temples, a bit wavy and combed back. Eyes that were light, maybe hazel or gray, were topped with thick elegant brows.