by Rae Davies
Ruthann was floundering. “Did you hear the BiggeeMart’s having a coloring contest for Daisy Daze? First prize is a year’s supply of Twinkies and juice boxes.” She gave an attempt at eyelash fluttering. “I can get Luke a coloring page, if you like.”
“That’d be nice,” Randy mumbled.
This was painful. Patsy had to do something. Dancing was the ticket, but nothing slow. No more love songs. “Dwayne, put some money in the jukebox. Play something peppy,” Patsy emphasized the last.
“Why should I...”
Patsy’s intense look cut her brother off short.
“Fine,” he grumbled and meandered away.
Lynyrd Skynyrd began asking for “three steps, Mister.” You could always count on Dwayne to avoid the sweet and sentimental.
“Ruthann, you love this song, don’t you?” Patsy prompted. She felt her purse bump against her leg. Thank God she’d brought a big one. It’d be hard for Mr. Handsy to get past that subtly.
Ruthann studied her split ends.
“And this is a great song to dance to. It’d be a shame to waste it.”
Ruthann just blinked back at her.
“I’d love to dance.” Jessica grazed Will’s arm with her fingertips.
Patsy frowned at Jessica while she kicked Ruthann under the table.
“Oh, me too.” Ruthann exclaimed.
“So, Will, what do you say? How about a twirl around the dance floor? I’ll show you some new moves.” Jessica didn’t even bother to hide the double entendre. She walked her fingers up his arm until her hand cupped his shoulder.
Patsy considered picking up her purse and flinging it across the table. She couldn’t decide who was annoying her most: Jessica for being Jessica, Ruthann for doing nothing more enticing than chewing on a lemon rind, Randy for being stubborn and difficult, or Will for… well, she wasn’t sure what was going on with Will, but she was damn sure annoyed.
“Come on, girl, let’s dance.” Dwayne solved one of her problems by grabbing Jessica’s hand and dragging her away from the table. Patsy allowed herself a small victory grin before returning to her other concerns.
Her purse seemed to be slipping toward the floor. Time to give up on being subtle. “Randy, dance with Ruthann.”
He started to object, but Patsy stared him down. “Now.”
Her purse plopped onto the dirty floor.
“Things not going as planned?” Will asked as the rest of the table left.
His hand was back on her knee. How could he act so casual when he was turning her insides to pudding? “When do they, lately?” she asked.
“Good question.” The expression in his eyes was distant for a minute. “Maybe we should plan less.” His fingers started the swirl thing again. Patsy really liked the swirl thing; ‘course, that massage thing wasn’t bad either.
Snap out of it. He was playing with her. She should act just like him, like this intimate contact had no effect on her.
She plastered a disinterested look on her face. “You won’t get anywhere without planning, except right back where you started.” Patsy set the Sex and The City drink on a Bevnap. “Ruthann asked me to help her with Randy. I sure wouldn’t be matchmaking if she hadn’t.”
Will raised an eyebrow. “Hmmm, so you don’t approve of her choice.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Some things don’t have to be said.” His hand went into massage mode.
Yeah, that was her favorite. Her head started to loll backward.
She jerked it upright and smacked the bottom of the glass against the table, burying the remains of the lemon under a pile of ice. “You never told me what the favor was you needed.”
His hand stilled. “Your father won’t let me replace his Crown Vic.”
Patsy couldn’t hide her confusion. “Dwayne said you were paying for the repairs.”
“The repairs, yes, but I want to get him a new one.”
She deserted the Citron. “A new one? As in a new Crown Victoria? Are you crazy? According to Randy, it was just some hoses and new side panels.”
Will’s face took on distinct shades of pout. “I shot his car.”
Good Lord, talk about male ego. “It’s not like he was in it.”
“I shot his car.”
Did he think she was slow on the uptake? “I was there, remember? So, you shot his car. Believe me, you aren’t the first person around here to shoot something they weren’t aiming at. If you’d hit the front door, would you have bought him a new house?”
The look on his face said he would.
An exasperated huff escaped her lips. “You are crazy. He doesn’t need a new car. The one he has will be fine in about a week. Then you’ll pay the bill, get your BMW back, and everything will be back to normal.” A thought stopped her. “How are you getting around, anyway?”
“I want you to talk to him.” Removing his hand, he folded his arms over his chest.
The man was frustrating. Did he really think he could boss her around? “I am not talking to him.”
When he opened his mouth, to argue she guessed, she interrupted. “Money can’t replace emotion. You screwed up. You apologized. That’s it.”
He stared off toward the dance floor.
She tapped him on the arm. “Did you hear me?”
“Money can’t replace emotion?” His voice was soft.
“Yeah, you apologize and go on.” Why did he look like that? “You never said, what are you using to get around?”
He blinked and turned back to her. “Your aunt’s van. She dropped it off yesterday. I tried to talk her out of it, but she was… determined.”
Patsy grinned. Will in Tilde’s rust bucket of a van. She wondered what he liked most, the faux leopard fur on the dash or the pink poodle dangling from the rearview mirror. “I bet you look good in it.”
His narrowed gaze warned her it was time for a subject change.
“Why didn’t you dance with Jessica?” she asked.
“I’m wounded, remember.” He rubbed his calf.
It was her turn to narrow her gaze. “I thought it was your ankle.”
He moved his hand down. “It was. Sometimes these things spread.”
Dwayne and Jessica returning to the table halted her retort.
“Woo, nothing like a little boot-scootin’ boogie to get your blood pumping. Ain’t that right, Jessica?” Dwayne yanked out a chair and plopped down.
Patsy hadn’t even noticed the music had changed and Brooks and Dunn now blared out of the jukebox.
“I’m more of a slow dance fan. How about you, Will?” Jessica slipped into the chair next to him.
Patsy’s heart constricted.
“To tell the truth, I’m not much of a dancer. Certainly not good enough to keep up with that bunch.” Will nodded toward the crowded dance floor where about ten couples twirled and two-stepped in a big circle.
“I could teach you.” Jessica drew a little heart on his forearm with pink-tipped finger.
Patsy wondered if it would be rude to shove Jessica’s chair over with well-placed kick.
“Not tonight. I suffered a little injury earlier this week. Vicious dog attack.” He grinned at Patsy.
She rolled her eyes.
“Where’s Ruthann and Randy?” Patsy asked.
“At the bar.” Dwayne pointed to the front. Randy flipped a couple of bills onto the bar and handed a fresh glass of Citron to Ruthann. She reached for it, teetered on her heels, and fell forward onto Randy’s chest. He pushed her back on her feet, but didn’t remove his hand from her waist.
Well, at least something was working out. Patsy reached for the beer a waitress had just deposited in front of her. Maybe everything else would too. Sometimes people just needed a little nudge to get going in the right direction. She had probably been too subtle up to now. She wouldn’t make that mistake again.
Now, to give Randy no way out, and to save herself by getting while the getting was good. “I think I’ll head home.”
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Will stood up and grabbed Patsy’s chair. “I can give you a lift.”
Like that was going to happen. He was what she was fleeing from. “No thanks, I’ll take Ruthann’s car. I just need to get her keys.” Patsy turned on her heel and walked to the front to talk to her friend.
It didn’t take a lot of convincing to get Ruthann to hand over her keys. She didn’t even question Patsy’s request, just dug the keys out of her bag and shoved them into Patsy’s hand.
Patsy felt the need to make sure Ruthann understood what was happening. “You know you’ll need to get a ride home now, right?”
Ruthann swished the tiny straw supplied with her drink and stared at Randy. “Uh huh.”
Patsy snapped her fingers in front of Ruthann’s face. “You won’t have a car here.”
Ruthann sucked the last remnants of alcohol out of the ice. “Whatever.”
When Ruthann doddered back to Randy, Patsy followed. “Randy, can you give Ruthann a ride home later?” Maybe she should have said sooner. Patsy didn’t like the glassy look in Ruthann’s eyes.
Randy looked around like he was about to slip a twenty out of the collection plate and was afraid of getting caught. “Sure, if you need me to.”
Ruthann wobbled into him and said, “Can you get me another drink, handsome?”
Oh, good Lord. She’d only had two drinks. Patsy and Ruthann had been known to down a bottle of Boone’s Farm each on a good Saturday night in high school and still get up in time for Sunday school at eight. She shouldn’t leave her here.
“I’ll walk you out.” Will stood behind Patsy. His hand pressed possessively against the small of her back. It was a primitive this-one’s-with-me move that, despite her efforts to suppress it, sent a small thrill racing through her. She shouldn’t let him keep touching her like this. People could see. They would get the wrong idea.
She turned to tell him so, just as the slow song from earlier started playing again. Hadn’t these people heard of variety? She could not bear another chorus of “love is all around,” but she also knew walking into a dark parking lot with Will was like diving into fire. There was no way to escape without getting singed.
o0o
His hand firmly on Patsy’s back, Will struggled to hide his impatience. She was driving him crazy. She avoided his calls, blew holes in his plan to undo the damage he’d done to her father’s car, then, as things seemed to be progressing nicely, got up and announced she was leaving.
The “money isn’t emotion” comment was unsettling, but still, he was not finished with their talk, and her evasion of him was more than irritating.
Not returning his calls was bad enough, but walking away as if he were inconsequential was beyond tolerable. She had to feel the attraction between them. He certainly did.
He’d come tonight saying he would only talk with her about her father, but when she stalked over to the table, the attraction hit him like a fast ball to the cranium. After that, he’d tried every trick he could think of to stay in contact with her, even resorting to blatant harassment. It wasn’t his usual style, but something about Patsy made him want to toss aside his normal polite demeanor and get busy. Busy with her, on the beer-sticky floor of the roadhouse if necessary.
She had to feel that.
She turned to him, an unflinching look in her eyes. “I can make it. This isn’t exactly a crime zone. It’s even too early for a good bar fight.”
“I’ll walk you out.” He pressed his fingers decisively against her back and guided her to the door. To his surprise, after one quick backward glance at Ruthann, she let him.
The night air was still humid. They walked down the wooden ramp that led to the gravel parking lot in silence. When they reached Ruthann’s Cavalier, Patsy said, “Thanks. I’ll see you ‘round.”
I’ll see you ‘round? She wasn’t getting away that easily. “I think we should talk.”
“We just got done talking.” She folded her arms over her chest and stared up at him.
“Have you been avoiding me?”
“I’ve been busy. It’s nothing personal.” Her green eyes snapped a challenge.
Whether she knew it or not, she was lying. “Oh, I think it’s personal.” He reached out and stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers. Let her see how personal this was.
“You know, you really shouldn’t go around touching people like that. Someone might get the wrong idea.” Patsy gripped Ruthann’s Care Bear key ring.
Prickly. He was getting to her—good. “What idea is that?”
Patsy wrapped her fingers around the pink animal’s neck. “You know, that we’re… involved.”
“True, wouldn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.” Pushing his hands into his pockets, he rolled back on his heels.
She twisted the head on the cheerful little bear until he was looking at his pink rear end instead of his rainbow-adorned belly. “Be serious.”
“I am serious.” Will extracted Ruthann’s key ring from her grip. “Are you avoiding me for a reason?”
“No.” As if unsure what to do with her suddenly empty hands, she tapped them against the side of the car.
“But you are avoiding me.” He traced the line of her jaw with the bear’s tiny pink ear.
“I...” Patsy glanced toward the roadhouse. Was she looking for salvation? If so, none came.
“And if you’re avoiding me, there has to be some reason.” Will caressed the Care Bear’s head in long, even strokes.
“Quit that.” She motioned to the toy.
Ignoring her, he scratched the little creature’s stomach.
A loud huff escaped Patsy’s lips. “Listen, I don’t know what happened the other day.”
“You don’t?”
She gave him a shut-up look. “But I’m busy. I have a lot going on.”
“How about at the river? You know what happened there?” He edged closer to her, breathing in the now-familiar floral scent.
“Nothing. Nothing happened.” Her back was stiff, her gaze straight ahead.
“You have a funny definition of nothing. You trying to convince me, or yourself?” He stood there waiting for a response, but she refused to weaken.
“So, you’re just going to pretend there’s nothing here.” He motioned between them.
She stared at a spot somewhere over his shoulder.
Fine. He shoved the bear into her hands. “When you’re done lying to yourself, you let me know.”
He turned away, back toward the bar. Let her avoid him. What did he care? She said she was busy. Well, he was busy too. This attraction was just a passing urge. He needed to keep away from her and concentrate on his own problems. He had plenty to occupy his time and thoughts. He didn’t need Patsy Clark getting in his way.
“Will.” Patsy took a step after him, placing her hand on his arm. “I....”
Dwayne barreled out of Gordie’s. “Patsalee, you better get in here. Ruthann’s passed out cold on the floor.”
Chapter 12
Patsy pounded up the ramp toward Dwayne. She could hear Will right behind her.
“What do you mean, she passed out? Where is she?” Patsy asked.
Dwayne held open the door and pointed to where Ruthann lay crumpled on the floor.
“What are you idiots doing? Get her off that filthy floor. Why’s she still lying there?” Patsy flew to her friend’s side and placed Ruthann’s head in her lap. “Where’s Randy? I thought she was with him. Get me some ice or water or something.”
Dwayne handed her the remains of Ruthann’s martini. “Not that, you moron. Clean ice or just cold water.”
Brenda pressed a glass of ice into Patsy’s hand. “Calm down, honey. It just happened. She’d no more than hit the ground and Dwayne was out the door yelling for you. She’ll be fine. Faintin’s no big thing.” Brenda squeezed Ruthann’s limp hand. “You know what she’s had to eat today? Sometimes that can be enough to drop a gal, especially after a couple of those.” She motioned toward the em
pty glass Dwayne held. “You don’t want to move her anyhow. Here, Dwayne, drag that chair over.” She took the chair and placed Ruthann’s bare feet on it. “Patsy, you just make sure she’s a-breathing, and watch out, sometimes a fainter will puke on you.”
Patsy leaned down and pressed her ear against Ruthann’s mouth. The sound of ragged breathing reassured her. She should never have left Ruthann alone. She knew something wasn’t right, but she’d let herself get sidetracked by Will, by her damn hormones again. He touched her, and she lost all sense of responsibility. If something happened to Ruthann, it would be her fault for letting a man get between her and her good judgment. Well, that was it. It wouldn’t happen again.
“What’s going on? Why’s Ruthann on the floor?” Randy wandered over from the direction of the bathrooms.
“Ruthann’s gone and fainted,” Dwayne replied. “There ain’t nothing you want to tell us now, is there?”
Patsy threw an ice cube at her brother and hit him in the side of the head. “Shut up for once in your life.”
“Is she okay? Do we need to call someone?” Randy squatted down next to Ruthann and took the hand Brenda had held earlier.
Ruthann’s eyelids fluttered open. “Patsy, what’s going on? What am I doing on this floor? If I get something on this skirt, Momma’s gonna kill me.” She attempted to push herself up.
“Be careful. You probably shouldn’t try and get up too quick. Brenda said people who faint sometimes...”
Ruthann leaned over and vomited on Randy’s Red Wing boots.
“...puke,” Patsy finished. She grabbed a napkin off a nearby table and wiped her friend’s mouth.
“I’m sorry,” Ruthann stuttered as tears welled up in her eyes.
“Don’t worry about that. Randy’s not afraid of a little vomit.” Patsy helped Ruthann to her feet and gave her the water to sip. “Damn it all, Ruthann, what did you eat today?”
“Nothing, I swear. I told you I was dieting. I had a cup of yogurt for lunch, some diet pills Momma had from last winter when she was trying to lose weight before her high school reunion, and then the martinis. Nothing bad, I swear.”
Patsy rubbed Ruthann on the shoulder. If Ruthann wasn’t already so pathetic, Patsy would have lit into her. Diet pills? Knowing Ruthann’s momma, there was no telling what was in them or where she got them. And eating nothing but a carton of yogurt all day? Then downing at least two martinis? What was going on in that girl’s head? Patsy ran her hand through her hair and said, “Come on. I’m taking you home.”
