by Quint, Suzie
“What?” The word came out of her mouth razor sharp.
“You know you’re driving Sol crazy.”
“That’s not a very long trip.”
Gideon smiled, his eyes alight with amusement. “Nope.”
She had expected him to defend Sol. To make excuses for him. Gideon’s succinct agreement surprised her. Maybe she had an ally in the enemy camp.
“You know, you could talk him around to just about anything.”
Georgia looked at him more sharply, but he might as well have been talking about the weather for all the emotion his face showed. She’d figured he’d come to try to manipulate her, but it sounded more like he wanted her to manipulate Sol. But to do what? What could she get Sol to do that Gideon couldn’t?
“Like what?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Gideon shrugged. “Pretty near anything you want if you bait the hook right.” His eyes tracked the path of his fingers as he slid them around the arch of the steering wheel. “He might roar about it some, but that don’t mean nothing.”
Georgia felt her brow furrow. Did Gideon know they were fighting about Eden? Georgia already knew winning that fight was going to take more than a “pretty please.” “What are you trying to tell me, Gideon?”
“Nothin’.” He shrugged again, his gaze wandering to the mirror on the driver’s door. “I’m just sayin’—” He stiffened and stared into the mirror. “Son of a bitch!” He jerked on the door handle and exploded out of the truck to race back toward the concession stand.
Georgia twisted in her seat then was out of the pickup herself, following at a dead run.
By the time she got to the concession stand, a crowd of teenagers had gathered to watch the two men rolling around on the ground. Gideon had his hands on Tommy’s shoulders, trying to pull him off Sol.
Sol’s fist came up from the ground. A blow obviously meant for Tommy, but Tommy plunged forward, and the blow caught Gideon under the cheekbone. It had lost most of its force by then, but Gideon still lost his grip on Tommy and staggered back.
Tommy and Sol grappled and rolled, their grunts rising with the dust they stirred up. Two teenage girls jumped back, narrowly avoiding being flattened as the men rolled through her space. Sol was on top when Georgia screamed his name. His head snapped up. Beneath him, Tommy twisted, got his legs to the side out from under Sol. A flurry of movement followed, raising a cloud of dust and grit that blurred their movements. One moment, Sol was balanced on his hands and the toes of his cowboy boots, ready to fling himself back onto Tommy; in the next, Tommy had Sol’s torso between his scissored legs, and Georgia had no idea how it had happened.
Except, she belatedly recalled, Tommy had been on the wrestling team after football season ended.
Sol grimaced, his neck muscles bulging as he tried to push Tommy’s legs away. Tommy tightened his grip. Sol growled but Tommy had him pinned. Tommy wisely didn’t let go.
She stepped in. Squatting down beside Sol, she said, “It’s over, Sol.”
One cheek was skinned raw from contact with the ground. His clothes, face, and hair were grimy with dirt. The ruddy flush of exertion underlaid his tanned face, but his eyes glittered with anger as he glared up at her.
“Give it up before Eden shows up to see what the fuss is about.”
Sol’s head fell back, his eyes closing, but his face remained rigid as his chest rose and fell with deep, angry breaths.
Georgia turned toward Tommy. Blood trickled from his nose. She’d tend to his wounds later, when they were safely away from her ex-husband’s volatile temper. “You can let him go now.”
Tommy lifted his eyebrows. When she nodded, he unlocked his ankles and scooted away from Sol.
In a low voice, she said, “I can’t believe it’s come to this. You, starting fights. Scuffling in the dirt. Did you think I’d go all girly on you if you won? Beating up the competition doesn’t impress me.”
Sol didn’t try to rise. Instead he stared up at the star-studded sky, the muscle in his jaw clenching and unclenching. His refusal to look at her, to even try to understand what she was saying, pissed her off.
She slapped his shoulder. “I’m not a prize you can win that way. If you had any idea—”
A hand on her arm exerted upward pressure. “Stop poking the bear, Georgia.” Gideon sounded the same way she did when she had to tell her third graders to mind their manners.
She let him pull her to her feet.
“C’mon, babe,” Tommy said, and together they walked away.
Chapter Fifteen
Tommy’s shirt was stained with blood. It had mostly dried, but his nose must have gushed at first. A tiny trickle under his left nostril was still fresh, but dried blood stained his chin and one cheek. When Georgia stood close to him, the copper-penny smell permeated the air.
“Are you okay?”
“I always knew Sol had a hard head.” Tommy flexed his right hand.
“You don’t have to tell me.” She tugged on his arm to get him to face front.
“He fights dirty, too.”
She would have laughed if she hadn’t been so damned mad. “Again, old news.”
“What did you ever see in him?” he asked as they reached the car. He didn’t sound mad, only curious.
“God knows.” She opened the driver’s door for him. He reached in, grabbed his Coke, sucked up a mouthful, then spit it on the ground. It was too dark to tell how much blood he’d washed out. The Coke would have camouflaged it anyway. He did it one more time before getting in.
When they were both in the truck, she spit on one of the napkins from the concession stand and started to clean his face as she’d done with Eden when she was little.
“I’m really sorry,” she murmured as she tried to wipe the blood from his upper lip, but Tommy was a moving target. “I’m sorry I was married to a caveman and that you got caught in the middle of it.”
Tommy closed his eyes, a goofy grin stretching his lips. “God, that felt so good, hitting Sol.”
Were all men idiots? What was it with them and fighting? She was surprised at how gleeful Tommy was, but she shouldn’t have been. He was a man, after all. She certainly wouldn’t expect him to let Sol pound on him without defending himself.
Tommy was nearly bouncing with the residual adrenaline high. “I’ve wanted to do that since he showed up at the bar with Missy after we broke up.”
She’d almost forgotten that he had his own ax to grind with Sol.
“And he’ll say anything to drive off the competition. Do you know what he said tonight? You’re not going to believe this.”
She went cold. Shut up. I don’t want to know what he said. She grabbed Tommy’s chin to pull his face around and hold him steady, hoping he’d lose his train of thought. He talked around her hand as she dabbed at the blood on his chin.
“He said you’d slept with him just this week. Can you believe that? He must really feel threatened.”
Sol and his big mouth. I’m going to kill him. She scrubbed harder. She didn’t notice that Tommy had fallen silent until he said her name. “Georgia?”
“What?”
His eyes were locked on her face. “Did you hear what I said?”
Her hand fluttered. “Yeah, Sol’s making stuff up again.”
“You don’t seem very upset.”
“Well, of course I’m upset.” She had to force herself to meet his gaze. “But it’s just . . . It’s what he does. I told you about the time he told a guy I was dating that I was born a man.”
“Yeah, you did. George.” Tommy grinned.
She fought off a scowl. “I’m much more upset about him hitting you.” The blood on his face was pretty much gone. Georgia wiped at a last smudge near the corner of his mouth, so she had someplace to look beside his eyes. “He has no right to act like Attila the Hun.”
He caught her wrist and forced her to stop fussing. “O-o-oh,” he said, his voice rising and falling melodically as though he’d just had a sudden an
d surprising insight.
“Oh, what?” Georgia asked.
“He wasn’t lying.” He nodded his head as though he’d solved a mystery.
“What?” she snapped.
“I just realized why you keep going ‘round and ‘round with ol’ Sol.”
“I go ‘‘round and ‘round’ with him because he’s a blockhead.”
Tommy shook his head. “Nope. That ain’t it.”
“Well then, why don’t you enlighten me?” She twisted her wrist out of his grip.
“You sure you want me to?”
“Oh, please, do.”
“It ain’t about your daughter at all or about the way he interferes in your life. You’re still in love with him.”
“Oh, please.” That was the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard.
“You don’t love Sol?”
“Look, I care about Sol. I always will. We have a daughter together, so he’ll always be part of my life. And yes, on some level, maybe I love him. In an exasperated sisterly sort of way.” She scrunched the napkin in her hand and threw it at the dashboard. “But I’m not in love with him.”
“Horse shit.”
“I’m not.”
“If you say so.”
“Would you stop that?”
“Stop what?”
“Humoring me. I know how I feel better than you do.”
“Yes, ma’am.” His grin said he didn’t believe her.
Georgia rolled her eyes heavenward. Men! You’d think the world would come to an end if they couldn’t “prove” they were right. “Whatever. Just promise me that you won’t trade any more blows with Sol.”
“I can’t promise that, Georgia.”
She almost demanded to know why not but then realized that Tommy’s male ego was on the line. “Okay. If Sol hits you first, you have my blessings to hit back.” Thank heaven Eden wasn’t there to hear her. “But you have to promise you’ll do everything you can to avoid that scenario.”
Tommy grimaced in mock disappointment. “Can’t do that either.”
Her exasperation put an edge in Georgia’s voice. “Why the hell not?”
“It’s not always about who throws the first punch. Some things require a response.”
“Does the response have to be physical?” she asked. “Can’t you just be the bigger man?” Was expecting civilized behavior asking too much?
Tommy laughed. “Spoken like a true woman.” He leaned toward her. “And I’m always the bigger man,” he said suggestively.
Georgia doubted that but she let him keep his illusions. She narrowed her eyes at him. “Wait a minute. Exactly how did this fight start?”
Innocence shone from Tommy’s eyes, but it was too late. He’d squirmed in his seat for a second before he met her gaze.
She threw up her hands. “Oh for pity’s sake. And here I’ve been blaming Sol for being a caveman.”
“He’s really more like an old west outlaw. And I’m the sheriff. Like Gary Cooper in High Noon. I—”
“Spare me. Tell me instead what Sol did that started this.”
“Well, except for what he said, he was actually pretty civil.”
Her gaze jumped to meet his. “He was civil?”
“Well, he ain’t someone who’s going to let someone else come out a strike ahead if he can help it. I mean, he is a bull rider.”
She gaped at him. “Are you telling me you threw the first punch?”
“It was really more of a tackle.” Something on her face must have changed because his next words came out in a rush. “Hey, I had no choice. After what he said about you, he turned his back on me. It was insulting. Like I’m not man enough to take him down.”
“Oh. So this fight was about your pride?”
“No. Of course not.” Tommy grimaced again. “Well, not entirely, that was just the last straw.”
Georgia bent forward and buried her face in her hands. She tried to convince herself that Tommy starting the fight was a small thing next to everything Sol had done, but it didn’t seem to matter to her sense of right and wrong. She’d jumped to a conclusion. Blaming Sol for starting the fight wasn’t an unreasonable assumption, but that only made it worse because if she was going to condemn Sol for something he didn’t do . . . well, she couldn’t blame him for thinking he was damned if he did and damned if he didn’t. That left him with no incentive at all not to misbehave.
Obviously, she’d been teaching third grade too long if she was applying this standard to Sol.
God help her, she was going to have to apologize to him. But not tonight. She couldn’t face that humiliation so soon.
She sat up. “Take off your shirt.”
Tommy grinned. “Finally. I’ve waited a long time to get naked with you.” He grabbed the plackets near his throat and pulled. The snaps popped in quick succession, and he shrugged out of it.
Georgia snorted, took the shirt from him, and opened her door.
“Hey! Where you goin’?” He leaned across the seat as though to pull her back.
“To the ladies’ room to wash the blood out.”
“You’re a cruel woman, Georgia Carsten McKnight.”
Georgia smiled sweetly as she closed the passenger door.
The blood was still fresh enough that running water washed most of it away. She tapped the soap dispenser in the ladies’ room and lathered it into the faint stains that remained then let the running water wash it all away.
She was rinsing the shirt out one last time when Missy walked in. Missy’s step stuttered as though she hadn’t expected to see Georgia. Maybe she hadn’t but the way her mouth twisted said she wasn’t going to let the opportunity to make some nasty remark pass unheralded.
She knew Georgia was there with Tommy. Georgia had seen her at the back of the line as she and Tommy had left the concession stand. Her first thought even then had been, “Who wears four-inch platform shoes to a drive-in?”
Georgia watched in the mirror as Missy walked around her to the next sink. She pumped the soap dispenser then focused on her hands, washing off bits of gooey, nacho cheese. Georgia started to hope they wouldn’t have a big scene.
“You know,” Missy said without looking up, “everyone always says that, in spite of the big boobs you shove in everyone’s face, you’re a class act.” She looked up and met Georgia’s eyes in the mirror as she shook water from her hands. “Clearly they were wrong. I guess you think it’s okay to go out with a married man.”
Crap. She’d known she wasn’t going to be able to walk away gracefully. “Oh?” Georgia put on her most innocent expression. “Who’s Tommy married to?”
Missy eyes narrowed into a hard, unforgiving gaze. She turned to face Georgia head-on. “You know damn good and well he’s married to me.”
Georgia pulled out the same sweet smile she’d used on Tommy. “And who are you here with?”
Missy’s lips thinned. “You are such a bitch.”
Tommy’s shirt was sopping wet when it slapped Missy in the face. Now how had that happened? Georgia looked at it, hanging from her hand. The shirt couldn’t have attacked Missy of its own volition, could it?
Missy’s eyes were wide but blinking rapidly. Her mouth hung open as if she couldn’t believe it either. The water dripping from the side of her head attested to the reality, however.
Oh, shit.
Georgia had just finished washing Tommy’s blood from his shirt. She didn’t want to have to wash her own blood out, too, so she took a step back.
Missy’s eyes narrowed into tiny slits.
Georgia took another step.
Missy clenched her hands.
Georgia ran.
She expected to feel Missy’s hands on her back with each step. Halfway to Tommy’s truck, she found the nerve to look behind her.
Missy stood outside the ladies’ room door, her fists planted on her hips, glaring at Georgia.
Those shoes, Georgia thought. She owed her life to Missy’s slutty footwear.
&
nbsp; Georgia stumbled to a stop. She hadn’t run far enough to justify the way her heart was beating or the gulps of air her lungs insisted she needed.
With a sharp motion that promised she wouldn’t forget she owed Georgia, Missy raised a fist, her middle finger pointing skyward.
Georgia took refuge behind the bed of someone’s full-size pickup with monster-sized tires. She swallowed and tried to calm her breathing. Then she wrung out Tommy’s shirt with shaking hands.
Get a grip. She couldn’t get into Tommy’s pickup shaking like she was or he’d know something had happened.
What in the world had possessed her to slap Missy with Tommy’s shirt? Good grief. She was no better at keeping hold of her temper than a man.
And it was all Sol’s fault. Missy calling her a bitch was only the spark that ignited the dynamite that had been smoldering since she’d learned Sol had gone out with Missy. She’d deserved way worse than a slap in the face with a soggy shirt.
Giggles bubbled to the surface. Oh, God. The look on Missy’s face. The total disbelief. Georgia leaned against the truck bed and snorted in helpless laughter. What she wouldn’t give for a picture of that. Her own expression had probably been just as funny, but she doubted Missy saw any humor in it.
Georgia wouldn’t either when Missy got her revenge. The thought sobered her, and she looked around to make sure Missy wasn’t sneaking up on her before she started for the safety of Tommy’s truck.
###
Even with Sol and Tommy fighting and her run-in with Missy, Georgia had to admit she’d had a good time. Getting out of the house and away from her parents and their problems seemed to have recharged her batteries. Maybe not all the way but enough that she wasn’t dreading the morning. She felt good enough, she didn’t notice right away that Tommy had gotten quiet after they left the drive-in.
“You okay?” she asked as he pulled up to his house.
He shrugged. “Sure. Come on in and get your flowers.”
Georgia had forgotten all about them, but it was a good excuse to go inside. She had to tell Tommy about her confrontation with Missy anyway, or the whole night was pointless.
Owning up to her own immature behavior was not going to be fun after the grief she’d given him. Not that she expected that to be his main focus. It would probably be easier if it were. What would Tommy’s response be to the evidence that Missy still had an emotional investment in him?
