by Rae Davies
He needed a beer. Free of Cindy less than twenty-four hours and already scoping out replacements. Not this time.
Refocused, he scanned the crowd. Normally, he avoided scenes like this. Crowds, especially loud, jostling crowds, set his teeth on edge, but Jessica had assured him she could reintroduce him to a couple of men he’d known as beer-guzzling teenagers. Somehow they’d grown into big shots in the community. The profits from selling Consult.com weren’t going to last forever, and if he wanted to stay in Daisy Creek, he needed all the contacts he could muster.
o0o
Patsy leaned against the pool table watching Randy Jensen line up a shot. Dwayne had caught her on her way back from the bathroom. There was no way to avoid him and Randy without being obviously rude. Plus, Patsy had nowhere to go. Ruthann was still standing at the bar with Jessica, and Will Barnes had taken over their table. He sat there now, laughing and talking with a couple of Gordie regulars. One was the assistant DA, and the other owned the local paper.
They were both rednecks, rednecks with fancy jobs and impressive titles, but rednecks all the same. They were the types who got a little money and suddenly thought they were operating on a higher plane than everybody else in town. They were probably sucking up to Will though. He had everything they respected—pedigree, connections, and money. The little issue of his past would be nothing when weighed against that, especially the money.
Carrying a frothy pink concoction, Jessica returned to the table. The DA made a production of wiping the table for her, but she barely seemed to notice. She placed the drink in front of an empty seat. She was too busy eyeing Will. The DA pulled out a chair and her eyes still on Will, she slid into it.
Patsy wondered where the DA’s wife was. Probably at home with their two kids. Annoyed with all of them, she turned her attention back to the pool game.
“Hell, Dwayne, that’s two in a row. I don’t need to lose any more money tonight.” Randy placed his cue back in the rack that hung on the wall. “Besides, there’s ladies here now.”
After taking a swig of Busch, Dwayne replied, “I don’t see nobody but Patsy. But if you two got plans, don’t let me stand in your way.” He gave Randy a wink.
Rolling her eyes at her brother, Patsy picked up the cue Randy had deserted. “I’ll play you. What’s the bet?”
“I’m not playing you. I have standards.” Dwayne pushed his thumbs into the front pockets of his Levis and rolled up onto the toes of his Redwing boots.
Appearing behind him, Ruthann drawled, “Yeah, and you don’t like to lose either.” Eyes lowered, she said, “Hey, Randy. How’s Luke doing? He sure looked cute all dressed up for church last Sunday.”
“He’s doing good. He’s staying with my mom tonight.” Randy watched Patsy. “I told her I might be out late.”
Ignoring him, Patsy addressed Ruthann, “How’s the barracuda? Looks like she has a few fish lined up, all ready for a snack.”
“Yeah, well, she has better luck than I do. That’s for sure.” Ruthann flicked her gaze at Randy before looking back at Patsy.
“You girls just aren’t packing the right bait. Ain’t that right, Randy? A man likes to see a little bounce and twist.” Dwayne cupped his hands over his chest and shook his skinny ass. Patsy resisted the impulse to whack him with the pool stick.
o0o
There’s the girl I remember, Will thought as he watched Patsy Lee Clark lean on a pool cue, her green eyes snapping. He could see by the way Dwayne was laughing that he was taunting her. It would probably serve him right if she belted him. Will was sure Dwayne and Patsy Lee had survived more than one argument that ended in blows. Even with the seventy or so pounds Dwayne had on her, a smart man’s money would always ride on Patsy Lee, and Will was a smart man.
Jessica leaned over the table, brushing her breasts against his bare forearm. Her musky perfume stomped past the smell of stale beer and cigarette smoke that filled the bar. Strangely, he missed the beer and smoke.
“So, what do you think, Will? You going to need some office space? There’s a real nice building open next to David’s.” She motioned toward David Wood, the current assistant DA of Daisy Creek County.
Taking a sip of Budweiser to cover his need for a fragrance-free breath, Will carefully moved his arm away from spandex-compressed flesh. “I don’t know yet. I’m still weighing my options. For right now, I can just work out of the house. I won’t be doing anything that’ll violate the zoning laws.” He smiled at his companions.
Richard Parks, owner of the weekly Daisy Creek News, balanced his chair on its back legs and laughed. “You don’t have to worry about zoning laws here, Will. You could just about start a hog farm in the courthouse, and as long as it brought in jobs, nobody’d complain.”
Will raised an eyebrow. Just the kind of offer his father would seize. Striving for a light tone, he said, “Well, that’s reassuring.” Maybe Daisy Creek needed a bit more help than he’d thought. Switching his gaze back to the scene by the pool table, he continued. “I see someone I haven’t talked to in years. How about I give you two a call after I’m more settled?” He stood to leave. Jessica uncrossed her legs as if to follow, but he motioned for her to stay.
“I appreciate you walking in with me, and reintroducing me to people, but I’m fine now. You enjoy yourself. And thanks again for helping me get the house.” He stepped away from the table before she could object. She was attractive but a little obvious and way too needy. Best to make it clear right out of the gate where his intentions lay, or didn’t. He wasn’t looking for a relationship, or even a fling. It was time for him to start over, alone. There was no space for anyone but his dog in his plans right now.
He strolled to the pool table. As Dwayne twisted around the table next to Patsy, she reached out with the cue and snagged a full beer mug through the handle. Flicking her wrist like she was flipping flapjacks, she poured the beer down the front of Dwayne’s jeans.
Will smiled. Slick move.
“What the hell is wrong with you? You have no sense of humor at all.” Dwayne jumped away from the dripping mug and slapped his hands against his wet crotch.
As Will passed a nearby table, he grabbed a white bar towel and threw it to Dwayne. “Long time, Dwayne, Randy. How’s it going?”
“Well, Will Barnes. I heard you were back in town.” Dwayne mopped at his wet jeans. “Excuse my mess; my little sister is still as prickly as a cocklebur.”
Looking completely devoid of remorse, Patsy stood at the pool table pretending to line up a shot.
“You looking for a game?” Will nodded his head at the empty table.
Still bent over the pool cue, Patsy ignored him.
“You don’t want to play her,” Dwayne interrupted. “Let me buy you a beer.”
“So, are you looking for a game?” Will repeated, adding just a hint of a challenge.
Her eyes flickered. Standing, she replied, “I guess I can handle just one.” She sauntered to the middle of the table and shoved quarters into the coin slots.
She had a natural sway to her step, almost athletic. Her short hair bounced against her neck, leaving Will again with the urge to comb his fingers through the teasing locks.
The balls rolled down with a thud, bringing him back to the moment.
“You break,” Patsy said. “I don’t want to be accused of cheating when I beat your city ass.”
Will grinned. “No ladies first?”
“No ladies here.” Dwayne guffawed. “Let’s get a beer.” He waved Randy toward the bar. Ruthann watched them leave, but took a seat at a nearby table.
Will went to select a cue. When he turned back to the pool table, Patsy Lee was stretched across the top, rolling the rack into position. The view of her shorts pulled high on her thighs stopped his breath somewhere around his heart. Nothing like a nice round rear to put a man off his game. He wondered if he could call a handicap.
Patsy popped back onto the floor. “All ready.”
Something was ready, b
ut he was pretty sure it wasn’t what Patsy Lee was referring to.
With a smile, he replied, “Glad to hear it.”
She stepped back. “You gonna break, or what?”
Or what, Will’s inner letch screamed. “Just getting a feel for the table,” he replied.
Patsy Lee rolled her eyes. “It feels like a pool table. Break already.” She cocked her hip and leaned against the table.
Placing the cue ball on the felt, Will lined up his shot. Patsy Lee leaned forward, resting one fine-boned hand on the green felt. Her nails were short and unpolished. His fiancée’s had always been long and fake. Couldn’t open a pop can for fear of messing up her manicure. Will bet Patsy Lee faced the dreaded pop top head on.
Patsy drummed her soda-can-defeating fingernails on the table top.
Subtle.
Not bothering to aim, Will took his shot. The balls zipped to the four corners but came short of falling into the pockets.
“What a shame. Guess it’s my choice.”
Will could feel her sorrow.
Grinning, she pointed her stick at a solid, “Corner pocket.”
“You don’t have to call them,” Will commented.
“Oh, but when you’re winning, it’s so much more fun that way.” A snap, a thump, and the sound of the seven ball rolling under the table followed.
“You might want to sit down,” Ruthann called from behind her wine cooler. “Once she gets going, it can be a long wait till your turn—if you get it.”
“You planning on clearing the table?” Will asked.
“Not the whole table, just the solids—then the eight ball, of course. Excuse me.” Patsy brushed against him on her way to the chalk, leaving a light floral scent in her wake.
Her perfume was alluring but unpretentious, like kite-flying, Easter egg hunts, and rolling down a grassy hillside. All things Will never did as a child. All things his father said were a waste of time.
Irritated with the direction of his thoughts, he crossed his arms and awaited his turn.
Three balls later, he got his first shot. “Hope you don’t mind.” Will gestured to where Patsy stood, blocking the easiest shot on the table.
“Oh, if you want to take the easy shot.” She shrugged.
“And I do.” He grinned. She was too good a player for him to cut her a break.
“Fine, you take that one. After that, you’ll have nothing left to shoot at anyway.”
Will analyzed the game. She was right. She’d left him with one clean shot and the rest were bank shots. He hated to lose, and he didn’t plan on doing it now. He had a feeling once the cue was back in Patsy’s hands, it would be a short watch on his part till the eight ball went to join his solid brethren under the table. Will had to clear as many balls as he could this turn, preferably all of them.
“Don’t have much choice now, do I?” he asked.
“Not a Fudgsicle’s in hell.” She flashed him a grin.
Will gritted his teeth. That arrogance could become pretty annoying. No wonder her brother drank.
He sank the nine and walked around the table to assess his options. They weren’t pretty.
“Eleven ball, corner pocket.” He motioned to the end of the table where Patsy Lee stood.
“You sure you want to try that?” she asked.
He ignored her. With a quick tap from Will, the cue ball snapped the eleven into the cushion. He held his breath as it rolled toward Patsy Lee.
Closer, closer, in. He bit back the grin that raced to his lips. Better to act confident.
“Maybe I’ll try a hard shot this time,” he said.
Busy applying chalk to her stick, Patsy Lee looked up. “You miss already? I thought you’d at least get a couple.”
“Twelve, other side.” He winged another stripe into a pocket. He was feeling good. All those months hanging out at the pool hall when he was supposed to be in school had really paid off. He should have played Patsy Lee for money or something more tantalizing.
After grinding another layer of chalk onto her stick, Patsy Lee dropped the blue cube onto the wooden edge of the table. It bounced once, then fell on the floor. Will tensed in anticipation. As he expected, Patsy Lee bent to retrieve it, giving him an unhindered view of sexy behind and a glimpse of lace.
He swallowed. Lace. That was nice. All women should wear lace underwear. The kind that cupped their behinds, like a lover’s hands. Hiding and hinting all at the same time.
Patsy rapped the cube against the wood. “You taking a shot sometime soon?”
“Ten, down here,” he called and promptly knocked her five into the pocket.
“For me? You didn’t have to.” Patsy Lee sauntered to the center of the table and lined up a shot. “Three, over there.”
Will knew when he was beat. He dropped onto a chair next to Ruthann.
It took Patsy less than five minutes to clear the table. It took her ten to quit gloating.
Where was Dwayne with his beer?
As if called, Dwayne wandered up, two beers in his hands. He handed one to Will. “She beat ya?”
“Looks that way.” Will watched as Patsy slid her cue into the rack on the wall. He could look at this view all night. Didn’t know that he wanted to play her at pool again, but the view—it couldn’t be beat.
“Tough break,” Dwayne replied.
Randy, who’d pulled up a chair from another table, snorted.
“So, Will, what brings you back to these parts?” Dwayne asked, ignoring his friend.
“Nothing special,” Will replied.
Patsy pulled out the chair next to Ruthann.
“Heard tell you made it big on the Internet. You know, my little sis here is learning that stuff.” Dwayne flicked his hand toward his sister.
Will said, “Really. Pool shark and the Internet too. What other talents do you have?”
“I’m not a shark. I told you I was going to beat you.” Her look challenged him to deny it.
“I guess you did.” But she hadn’t answered the whole question. What other talents did she have? Swallowing the thought, he continued, “There’s still a lot of money to be made on the Internet.”
“That so? Exactly what kind of business did you have?”
He wasn’t sure he liked this coy smile anymore than her victory grin. It made him feel like she knew some deep secret he’d rather keep quiet.
“Consulting,” he replied.
“Hmm.” She took a sip of beer. “Lot of money in that?”
“Enough.”
She studied him a moment, then turned to her brother. “There’s nothing wrong with trying to learn something new. If you had a brain bigger than a walnut, you’d be trying too.”
“What, and leave all this behind?” Dwayne held his arms wide.
Will smiled. Even with the constant banter, it was obvious Patsy and Dwayne cared about each other. He didn’t have that kind of rapport with his family. They were polite, but there never seemed to be a lot of underlying emotion.
“So, you want to come?” Dwayne interrupted Will’s thoughts.
He looked at Dwayne blankly.
“Floatin’. A bunch of us are heading to the Current on Sunday.” Flicking a balled-up Bevnap toward Patsy, he continued, “After church. Probably get in the water ‘round one.”
Will didn’t have time to be floating down the river drinking beer and soaking up skin cancer. He should be concentrating on repairing his house and finding a new source of funds to keep Ralph in Iams.
Patsy Lee caught the paper napkin and whacked it back at her brother. As Dwayne ducked to avoid the missile, his hand brushed his beer bottle, causing it to topple into his lap. At his responding curse, Patsy’s eyes sparkled with humor. She turned a carefree smile on Will.
Ralph might have to switch to Kibble. “Count me in.”
Chapter 2
The next day, after a mind-numbing shift counting out change at the Bag & Basket, Patsy pulled into the drive that ran along the side of her grandm
other’s fieldstone house. The bumpy rocks, outlined by wide stripes of white mortar, were a patchwork of pinks, grays, and reds. The sight was as comforting as the old crazy quilts Granny kept folded in the cedar trunk at the foot of her bed.
She hopped out onto the drive and climbed the wide steps to the front porch. The welcome mat with two bug-eyed pugs and the words “Take A Paws” imprinted on it gave her a smile. The empty mailbox didn’t. Fifty resumes and no answers. Not even a generic “we received your application” postcard. She was going to be stuck in Daisy Creek forever. She let the box’s metal door clatter shut and stepped inside the house. Resisting the urge to flip on the floor lamp that sat next to the door, she took a moment to let her eyes adjust to the dark house.
“Granny, I’m home.”
A small, wriggly body shot at her from the back of the house. “Pugnacious, what have you been up to? Miss me?” She squatted down to pick up the squirming dog.
Patsy’s grandmother appeared from the kitchen. “She’s been baying at the squirrels again. I’m telling you what, that dog is about the most confused critter I ever laid eyes on. You ought to just turn her over to your brother and let him make a coon dog out of her.” Granny plunked her round figure onto an afghan-covered gold recliner.
“Any phone calls?”
“I told you, me and the dog were out back.” Granny swiveled her chair around to face the TV. “Click on the cable and see if the WWE is on. Now you’re home to watch that hound wannabe, I need to do a little relaxing.”
Patsy walked over to switch on the TV. After handing the remote to her grandmother, she wandered into the kitchen to get a glass of tea and check the answering machine.
