Honky Tonk Hearts Volume 2

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Honky Tonk Hearts Volume 2 Page 36

by The Wild Rose Press Authors


  She shot him her patented hangdog expression. “Sorry, Daddy. Are you going to apologize?”

  He reached for his second slice and a few breadsticks. “Already did.” For all the good it did me.

  “What did she say?” Olivia’s brown eyes sparkled with excitement.

  He rested his arms on the table. “Angel, she has a date tonight with someone else.”

  She jumped up. “No! No, she can’t. Daddy, you have to do something. You have to make things right.”

  “Sit back down and eat. I tried. She feels we have no future, and maybe she’s right. I can’t force her to do something she doesn’t want. If I did, that would make me a bully, or so she claims.” How could he win Lacy back? She was so hurt and angry, she wasn’t listening to reason right now. Maybe she was more attracted to that bald teacher than she was him. He reached for his chest. God, that hurts.

  “I’ve waited for two weeks for you to tell me what’s been going on in school, but you were too angry to talk. When are you going to open up to your old man?”

  “I haven’t been very fair, have I?” She picked apart a slice of pizza and sighed. “Do you think I’m always going to be smaller than everyone else?”

  “No, I don’t. You’re just growing a little slower than most, that’s all.”

  A tear trickled down her heart-shaped face. “The girls make fun of me, Daddy. We have to undress after gym class and shower. They point at my flat chest and call me ‘Double-T.’”

  He fought to remain calm so she’d keep on talking. “Double-T?”

  She nodded and flicked away tears. “Tiny tits,” she whispered in embarrassment, her cheeks flaming red. “Some of the girls called me that in class, in the hallways, in the cafeterias. Once the boys heard it, they started calling me that, too. They say I’m not really a girl and call me Oliver.”

  A curtain of red lowered over his vision field. How dare they do that to his daughter? He wanted to rage and curse. He wanted to tear apart something. Instead, he held open his arms. “Oh, Angel, why didn’t you tell me? I’d have done something.”

  “What? What would you have done?” Her face held a resigned look of defeat, which scared the bejesus out of him. She stepped into his embrace and he held her close, his baby girl.

  “Anything. I’d have done anything to save you from this. We’ll work on this problem together. Lacy will help, too, I’m sure. I’ll do whatever I can to make things easier for you. Give me a chance to help you.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Lacy’s “date” was not going well. How could it when she was sitting across a table from the wrong guy? She wanted to be with Tyler in the worst way, even if they were arguing over problems in their relationship. Better an angry man than an annoying jerk.

  “I’ll have the spinach and pear salad with vinaigrette dressing on the side. Baked flounder and brocolli. My date will have the same thing. We need to keep a closer eye on those ample hips of hers.”

  You pompous ass. She felt the heat of a blush flash on her cheeks as her fists curled on her lap. Her angry gaze swept from him to the printed menu. Gus’s nephew, Win, must be cooking tonight for such a lavish list. She glanced to the waitress. “I don’t care for fish. I’ll have the chicken.”

  “Nonsense. Fish is better for you.” Brandon waved away her remark. After the waitress left, he leaned across the table. “I watched the video of you four or five times after I got home from school today.”

  Her heart sank. She couldn’t look at him. This whole evening was a mistake. Just because he was a teacher didn’t make him date material. Really, what did she know about him? Except he wasn’t as nice as he first appeared.

  At least she had the safety of Gus’s place. Talking him into coming to the Lonesome Steer had taken some doing. He’d wanted to go someplace more trendy.

  Brandon’s gaze swept over the women at the next table. “This honky tonk surprises me. It’s not the dump I thought it was. The clientele isn’t so bad, either.” He winked at a slender woman in a pink Western shirt, its buttons undone to the level of indecency. She rewarded him with a finger wave.

  Throughout dinner, he kept a running dialog going on his past sports exploits. He also kept an eye on the woman at the next table. Not once did he ask her about her life or what she did for a living. How different he was from Tyler. In fact, he didn’t begin to measure up to her cowboy. Instead of ordering a double dessert like Tyler, he ordered another double Scotch.

  She wanted to laugh. Brandon bragged about his healthy lifestyle, yet he drank hard liquor as if it were vegetable juice. This was his fourth drink in less than an hour. His words were starting to slur. As far as she was concerned, this date was over.

  Maybe she could get a ride home with someone. Her gaze swept the place, looking for a familiar face.

  Accepting Brandon’s invitation to go out had certainly been an error in judgment. For one, he was a jerk who was a little too fond of the booze. And secondly, he paled in comparison to Tyler. Her cowboy was warmth and strength and caring. All things good. Why, oh, why had I called him a bully? Bullies wanted to demean and hurt the person in their evil crosshairs. Tyler was too goodhearted to hurt anyone.

  And what had possessed her to accept a date with this guy? She’d been hurt when Tyler didn’t come talk to her after her presentation at the school. Now she knew he’d gone to buy her flowers, but at the time she counted it as another rejection by a man.

  If she couldn’t find a way home, she’d borrow money from Gus to call a cab. The measly twelve dollars she had in her wallet wouldn’t be enough to cover her fare.

  “I need to use the ladies room.”

  “Yeah, sure.” Brandon barely spared her a glance.

  Instead of going straight to the restroom, she hurried for the end of the bar and motioned for the bartender, Marshall.

  “What can I do for you?”

  “Is Gus here?” Her gaze darted toward Brandon, and she relaxed. He’d slid his chair over to the table of women and was deep in conversation.

  “No, he slipped out early. Said he needed to be somewhere.” A twinkle sparkled in his blue eyes. “Figure it must’ve been important for him to leave on a Friday night.”

  A man stepped to the bar, cue stick in hand. “Need four long necks.”

  “Lose another game, Billy Wayne?” Marshall reached into the cooler for the beer.

  The man slapped some cash on the bar, then looked at her and smiled. “Hey, aren’t you the girl my cousin’s been seeing?” He forked his fingers around the four bottles the bar tender opened for him.

  “Cousin?” He did look familiar.

  “Tyler Desmond. When I visited him in the hospital, he told me how you’d taken care of little Livvy for him. Was right kind of you.”

  “Thanks.” She gave him a weak smile before looking around the bar. Who could she ask for a ride home? None of her girlfriends were here. Oh, crap.

  Marshall tapped her arm. “You okay, Lacy? You look troubled.”

  “My date is drunk, and I’m going to need a ride home. I was hoping I could borrow some money from Gus to call a cab.”

  “What the hell are you doing? Throwing that ass of yours at another man while I’m the one paying for your dinner and booze?” The belligerent voice made her turn.

  “There’s no need to get nasty, Brandon,” she replied, not trying to keep the annoyance from her voice. “I think this date’s over, don’t you? Why don’t you just go on back to the lady in pink and leave me alone. I’ll find my own way home.”

  “Like hell. You owe me.” Her date grabbed her arm.

  Billy Wayne set the bottles back on the bar before his hand clasped hard on Brandon’s shoulder. “How ’bout a game of pool, buddy?”

  Lacy stepped back as Billy Wayne’s diversionary tactic worked.

  Brandon’s scowl went from her to him. “No way in hell, buddy.”

  Once her date stormed off, Billy Wayne reached for his phone and dialed a number. “Got a situat
ion here, cousin.” He winked at her. “Some bastard’s got his hands on Lacy. Thought you two was serious. What the hell’s goin’ on?” He chuckled as he slipped the phone back in his pocket. “Sometimes that cousin of mine needs a fire lit under his carcass. He’ll be here before you finish a drink.”

  Ten minutes later, perched on a barstool next to Billy Wayne, Lacy watched Tyler charge into the Lonesome Steer with hellfire in his eyes. She’d never seen her cowboy’s Comanche heritage more pronounced than it was at this moment. For some reason, a jolt of desire shocked her entire system.

  After stalking up to them, he wrapped his arm around her waist and spared Billy Wayne a glance. “Thanks, cousin. I’m indebted.” Not one word for her. No. Not a single one.

  Billy Wayne leaned over to make eye contact with Tyler. “Bastard left once he knew I’d called you. For some reason he seemed scared of a confrontation.”

  “Then he’s not as dumb as he appeared.”

  The Rattlesnakes started playing, and Tyler tugged her off the stool. He led her to the dance floor, but didn’t look at her or talk. Anger vibrated off him, making her nervous.

  “Aren’t you going to speak to me?” She felt a full-blown prattle coming on, but all air whooshed from her lungs when he pulled her against the strength of him. A tingle of awareness started in her belly and rippled out like a stone thrown in a pond.

  She had to concentrate on breathing. The power of him at this moment was something she’d never experienced. Should she be scared, or aroused?

  “I’m sorry Billy Wayne called you,” she eventually continued in response to his silence. “I know you’d rather be home with Olivia. See, he saw Brandon grab me when I told him our date was over. I…I never asked him to call you.”

  Tyler stared straight ahead at some unseen object, the muscle in his jaw bunching. Oh, he was in a temper, he was. She fought back a smile. Why did that please her?

  “Brandon had too much to drink and was turning into a bully.”

  “Like me?” He still wouldn’t look at her as he expertly led her across the floor in a smooth Texas two-step. Gus’s lecture on male pride rushed back. She’d wounded Tyler’s when she lashed out, calling him a bully.

  “I was wrong to call you that.” Her hand swept up to his neck and cupped it, hoping to lower his head to hers. “You could never be a bully. And Brandon could never measure up to you.” She leaned in and kissed his neck, feeling him shudder. “Never in a million years could he measure up to the wonderful man you are.”

  At last, Tyler’s fuming hold on her softened and he audibly exhaled. A warm hand swept up and down her back, as if branding her to his touch. His dark head inclined and he whispered in her ear. “I told you I loved you, and you threw it back in my face, as if it didn’t matter a tinker’s damn.”

  “Oh, it matters, cowboy. I’ve loved you since forever, and I couldn’t believe you could ever feel love for me.”

  “Why? Don’t you think you’re deserving of love? The forever kind?”

  She snuggled into the warmth of him, and tears flowed.

  “I told you I didn’t want you seeing anyone else.”

  Evidently, he needed to get it all out of his system. She’d give him that. “Yes, you did. But when you stopped contacting me, I thought our relationship was over. What was I to think, Tyler?” She wiped away tears.

  “Did you think my feelings for you would go away over an argument?”

  “You never told me you loved me until today.” Her temper rose. What was she? A mind reader? If he wouldn’t say it, how was she to know?

  He kissed her neck, nipped it and soothed it with his tongue. Wetness pooled and dampened her panties.

  “Didn’t I show you with every word, every touch, every kiss? Must a man always say the words?”

  “Just as a man has his pride, a woman has a need to hear words of love. It’s one of the ways we’re different.”

  The music stopped, and they pulled apart, staring at each other. Was he contemplating her remarks? Was he getting it? Applause erupted as the Rattlesnakes began playing the crowd favorite, “Back Where You Belong.”

  Tyler extended his hand, and she stepped into his arms.

  “I love you. I’ve never loved a woman the way I love you. At times I think you’re the air I breathe. These last two weeks without you have been pure hell.” He kissed her slow and tender, his lips caressing hers.

  “What kind of relationship will we have? It’s going to be mighty shallow if you won’t allow me to be part of your daughter’s life.” She needed to get this important aspect ironed out.

  He pulled her closer as if he could absorb her into his body. “Guess I didn’t realize how territorial I was where she’s concerned. When her mother left, I picked up the reins of total parenthood. Everything about Olivia was my responsibility. I knew her mother’s leaving left scars and I was determined to erase them.”

  “You’re a great father.”

  “I try. But looks like I need to try harder at being a better man for you. A man who includes you in all areas of his life.”

  “You mean with Olivia?”

  He nodded and smiled. “She needs you almost as much as I do. Been giving some thought to your fine project of helping teens who’ve been bullied. I can see where it’s needed. Not just locally, but nationally. What if we made it a family project? The three of us pulling together to create a common good.” He pulled back as if to gauge her reaction to his question.

  “A family project?” He wanted to help her with TAB? That would be great, but what did he mean by a family project? Did he want them to live together? Not a good choice when an impressionable teenager was involved. Or, did he mean marriage? Dare she hope?

  He turned her around on the dance floor and kissed her ear. “Listen…”

  She did so, to the lead singer of the Rattlesnakes crooning...

  This cold world tugs us apart,

  Yet you know what’s in my heart.

  A love that’s true and sweet and strong,

  For you’re right back where you belong.

  I’ve loved you through the hard times;

  Through the bleak and lonely night times.

  When I thought all hope was gone,

  You came on back where you belong.

  Lacy gazed at him through a film of tears. The words to the song pulled on her emotions, on her love for him.

  “This is where you belong. Here in my arms, and in my family. I’ll love you forever and a day. Marry me, Lacy. Olivia and I need you.”

  “Well,” she smiled and pursed her lips. “I do love an intelligent cowboy. And you’re so right. This is where I belong.”

  She rose on her tiptoes and kissed the man she adored.

  Long and slow and forever.

  Lonesome Cowboy

  by

  Stacy Dawn

  Honky Tonk Hearts

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  Lonesome Cowboy

  COPYRIGHT © 2013 by Stacy Dawn

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Contact Information: [email protected]

  Cover Art by Tamra Westberry

  The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

  PO Box 708

  Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

  Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com

  Publishing History

  First Yellow Rose Edition, 2013

  Digital ISBN 978-1-61217-842-4

  Honky Tonk Hearts Series

  Published in the United States of America

  Dedication

  Special thank you to Tina,
/>
  good friend and partner in crime

  (to the ever exasperation of our husbands.)

  And to Jannine Gallant

  for your input and sharing Redemption with me.

  Chapter One

  A slow, sharp graze down the back of his hand had Marshall Dekes glancing away from the bar where he poured a shot of tequila. He raised a brow at the bright red nail continuing a sensual circle on his skin, and then lifted his gaze up and over the woman’s full cleavage to where a glossy red grin oozed invitation.

  “Hands off the employees, Layla—you know the rules,” Keira reprimanded as she passed behind him to slide a longneck toward the cowboy on the adjacent stool.

  Marshall winked a thanks to his friend for having his back, then shrugged a shoulder and slipped his hand from beneath the seductive claw. Technically, there was no rule of the kind here at the Lonesome Steer Honky Tonk, but when it came to “Lay down Layla,” it was the only way to keep the local nymphomaniac at bay.

  “But he’s so luscious, Keira.” The woman’s raspy voice held an edge of playful pout. “Can’t we play just once?”

  “If we broke the rules for you, we’d have to break them for everyone,” Keira replied as she deftly set out and poured six shot glasses full of whisky. She returned his earlier wink. “Then Marshall would end up too tired from fending you all off to do his job.”

  He bit back a chuckle and reached over her blonde head to replace the tequila bottle on the shelf behind the bar. The glass hadn’t even touched the ledge when a sudden, burning tenseness seized his shoulders. The large mirror behind the liquor bottles reflected the mass of bodies two-stepping away the problems of the day. His brows drew down. Nothing out of the ordinary. No overt reason for the painful awareness raising the hair on the back of his neck.

  Gus’s gray head filled his peripheral vision, and Marshall slowly wrung out his neck muscles before focusing on what his boss was saying.

  “Now there’s a filly that looks a little down on her luck.” The old man’s thick, handlebar mustache tilted up on one side.

  Marshall followed the direction of his mentor’s nod. Long brunette hair hid a woman’s bowed head as she worried a napkin into paper shreds atop the tall oak surface at the far end of the bar.

 

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