Lone Star Nights

by Delores Fossen

  And, no, that didn’t have anything to do with the fake kiss Cassie and he had shared. It had more to do with the real moments they’d gone through in the past twenty-four hours.

  “Andrew’s a shrink?” Lucky asked.

  She nodded. “But he knows he made a mistake sending me there, and he signed my release papers as soon as I told him I needed to come home to attend my grandmother’s funeral.”

  “What a prince.” Lucky didn’t bother to take the stank off that, either.

  Cassie didn’t huff again, but she did fold her arms over her chest and stare at him. “I’ll discuss Andrew with you if you’ll explore in great detail why you haven’t had sex in three months.”

  She probably thought there was no way he’d chat about something like that. Well, she was wrong.

  “Dixie Mae’s the reason I haven’t had sex. She wasn’t spending much time at work so I took over things she normally does.”

  That was close to the truth anyway. He wouldn’t get into the fact that Dixie Mae’s failing health hadn’t exactly put him in a romantic frame of mind.

  “I could feel her slipping away, and there was nothing I could do about it.” Lucky hadn’t intended to discuss all this. Too similar to another death.

  His mother’s.

  “Oh,” Cassie said. The tone of a woman who’d just been put in her place. Something that Lucky hadn’t intended.

  “You were there for her, and I wasn’t,” Cassie admitted.

  Hell’s flipping bells. The tears watered her eyes again. “You weren’t there for her because that clown Andrew put you in a nuthouse.”

  She shook her head. Cried. Yep, no stopping those tears now. She was in a full boo-hoo mode. Lucky had no choice but to pull her into his arms.

  “I swear, I didn’t know Dixie Mae was that sick,” Cassie added through the sobs.

  “Because she didn’t want you to know. She knew how busy you were, and she didn’t want to disrupt your life.”

  “She disrupted yours,” she pointed out just as quickly.

  He would have used his shoulder to shrug if Cassie hadn’t been crying on it. “I didn’t mind. Dixie Mae got me through some hard times. She’s kept me under her wing ever since my folks were killed.”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  It was just one word, but it seemed to him to mean a whole lot more. Lucky eased back so he could look at her. That look was enough of a prompt for her to continue.

  “I remember when they died,” she said.

  Again, there was a whole lot more that went with those additional five words.

  Of course she remembered. Everyone in town over the age of twenty-five probably did. It’d been talked about, gossiped about, for years. And Lucky was pretty sure that somewhere in all that gossip, there’d been talk about him. About what he’d done.

  Or rather what he hadn’t done.

  “All right,” Lucky said. “If we keep on this subject, you’ll have to talk about Andrew.”

  As expected, that hushed her. Cassie gave the tears another wipe. “I’ll just freshen up before I see the girls,” she insisted, and she ducked into the powder room that was across the hall from the office.

  Lucky didn’t know all that’d gone on with this Andrew, but it had to be damn bad for her to back off the conversation like that. Especially since she probably wanted to know what’d actually happened the night his parents were killed. Yes, most folks over the age of twenty-five knew about the car wreck, and those same folks wanted the dirty little details. But Lucky figured that was something he might have to take to the grave.

  Talking about it just wasn’t an option.

  He decided to wait for her before facing the kids again. Mainly because he needed a couple of seconds, too. He didn’t want Mia picking up on his suddenly sour mood. As sweet as she was, she’d probably want to use her magic star to cheer him up. But even magic wouldn’t work on this.

  His phone rang, and he saw the name on the screen. Sugar Monroe. One of the calls he’d been waiting for. And nope, Sugar wasn’t her stage name. It was the name her mother had given her at birth, and maybe it had been what had set her on her present career path.

  As a stripper at the Slippery Pole.

  “Lucky,” Sugar said the moment he answered. “I got your voice mail, but I’m a little confused. Were you actually asking about cats or was that a G-rated way of asking about p—”

  “Cats,” he quickly supplied. No sense letting Sugar get the idea that this was a hookup call. He hadn’t hooked up with her in years and had no plans to rehook. And Lucky hoped no single, unattached straight man ever knew he’d had a thought like that.

  “You mean those cats that Mason-Dixon inherited from his mama?” Sugar asked.

  “The very ones. There should be three of them, and I need to know where they are.”

  “Last time I saw them, they were in Mason-Dixon’s bedroom. Well, it’s really more of a dump, but he sleeps here sometimes if he can coax one of the girls into joining him.”

  Not a pretty picture. And especially not one that Lucky wanted in his head.

  “Can you check and see if they’re still there?” he asked.

  “Sure. Anything for you, Lucky. I’m at the club to pick up some stuff and I’m walking over to Mason-Dixon’s room now. Say, when are you coming back here? It’s been a while since I’ve seen you.”

  “I’ve been kind of busy.”

  “Right. What with Dixie Mae dying and all. And what with inheriting those kids. Mason-Dixon said the older girl could work for him soon.”

  Over Lucky’s dead body. Over Mason-Dixon’s dead body, too. “She’s only thirteen.”

  “You’re sure? Because Mason-Dixon said she was—”

  “Sugar, if you don’t mind, I’d rather not hear what he has to say about her. Because I’d have to beat the shit out of him. Understand?”

  “Yeah, I guess. Okay, I’m outside Mason-Dixon’s room, but it’s locked. Hold on a second, and I’ll put my ear to the door and listen for anything or anybody moving around in there. Yeah,” Sugar added several seconds later. “I hear cat sounds.”

  “Uh, you’re sure it’s cats and not Mason-Dixon?”

  “It’s cats all right,” she verified. “Mason-Dixon’s a moaner, not a meower.”

  Yet something else Lucky didn’t want in his head. “Any sign of Mason-Dixon?”

  “Not yet, but he’ll be here any minute. He usually comes in around this time.”

  Not good. “How late will he stay?”

  “Late,” Sugar verified. “Again, it goes back to if he’s able to coax one of the girls to his room. Won’t be me, mind you. Don’t shit where you eat. That’s my motto.”

  Apparently, that was a motto that Mason-Dixon didn’t embrace. “Is it possible he could end up staying there all night?”

  “If he hooks up with Cherry, yes. She’s an all-night kind of girl.”

  Hell, he’d need a shower after this conversation. Lucky suddenly felt as if he’d just had a bucket of scum poured over his head.

  “So yeah, if he goes with Cherry,” Sugar went on. “That’s not her real name, by the way. It’s Jennifer. Anyway, it’d be the wee hours of the morning before Mason-Dixon leaves.”

  Lucky hated to plan this around Mason-Dixon’s love life, but he didn’t have a choice. Cassie’s father likely carried a gun, and even if he didn’t, Lucky preferred not to get arrested.

  “If you’re wanting to come by when you know for sure Mason-Dixon’s not here,” Sugar added, “then I’d say stop in around nine in the morning.”

  “You think the cats will be okay until then?” Lucky asked.

  “I can make sure they are.”

  Good. “Thanks. And I have another favor. Can you be at the club tomorrow morning
to let me in?”

  “Sure. But if I scratch your back, you can scratch mine. Deal?” He could almost see her smiling.

  “Deal,” he agreed.

  Damn. First Wilhelmina and now Sugar. If he kept owing women all these favors, he wasn’t going to have time for anything else. Whatever Sugar wanted to do with him, it wouldn’t lead to sex, he’d make sure of that, but it might mean hours and hours of keeping her at bay.

  “I’ll be there at nine in the morning,” Lucky told her.

  And after that, he’d be able to add “cat thief” and “bay-keeping gigolo” to his resume.

  CHAPTER TEN

  CASSIE HAD NEVER stolen anything in her life. Not even another girl’s boyfriend, but she had no doubts that this theft had to happen. With the state of mind her father had been in, he could hurt the cats. Or else just lock them up somewhere and not bother to take care of them. No way did Cassie want that to happen.

  A theft probably seemed extreme to some people, but the cats were her last living link to her grandmother. And no, she didn’t count her father. It’d been a long, long time since Mason-Dixon had been a son to Dixie Mae, and he had such a mean streak that he might do something to the cats just to get back at his dead mother. And back at Cassie.

  “I can still do this solo,” Lucky offered. “You can wait in the car.”

  It wasn’t his first time offering. Right from the start, he’d insisted she not go with him, but there was no way she was going to let him do her dirty work. Though she’d had a moment’s hesitation when Lucky had reminded her that if they got caught they could be arrested.

  And locked up by Deputy Davy.

  Lucky had added that if he went in alone, at least she’d be there to take care of the girls for the half day or so it would take him to get out of jail. Cassie wasn’t comfortable with the possibility of being arrested, but if they did get caught, she had already decided that she would take the fall so Lucky wouldn’t land in jail. That way, he’d be the one there for the girls.

  The only thing they had to do now was hurry. Della and Stella were watching the children, but Cassie didn’t want Mackenzie using this as an opportunity to run away again. That’s the reason Lucky had called in reinforcements.

  In this case, Livvy.

  Livvy had agreed to call Mackenzie with the promise that she’d bring by some of her shoes later for the girl to try on. Maybe the shoes would have high enough heels that if Mackenzie did decide to run, the heel height alone would slow her down.

  Cassie reminded herself to give Livvy a huge thanks for this.

  Lucky drove out of town and to the outskirts where it didn’t take long, less than a mile, for her to spot the Slippery Pole. The exterior was just as tacky as the name. It was flesh pink, and it had a neon sign of a woman with massive breasts. Since it was daylight, the sign wasn’t on, but Cassie knew that when it was, the woman’s nipples blinked in invitation.

  Her father probably thought that was classy.

  There was only one vehicle in front of the place—an older-model red Mustang. It was pocked with dents and rust spots, but despite that the vanity plates were gleaming with one word.

  Sugar.

  Thank goodness the stripper was there to let them in.

  Lucky pulled the car to the back of the building and parked out of sight. The car itself was another sneaky ploy since it wasn’t a vehicle her father would recognize should he drive up. Lucky had left his truck at the ranch and used one of the vehicles from the family’s garage instead.

  The moment they got out, the back door opened, and a red-haired woman stuck out her head. According to Lucky, this was Sugar Monroe, one of her father’s employees. The woman hurriedly motioned for them to come in, but the hurriedness didn’t extend to the long look she gave Lucky.

  Good grief.

  This happened wherever they went, and the woman just kept giving him the look until they were inside. Then she kissed him. A loud smack right on the lips.

  “Looking good as always,” she purred.

  Lucky stepped back, and since the overhead lights weren’t on, it was hard to see his expression, but Cassie thought he might have blushed. Of course, it could also be a flush of arousal.

  Not that she cared.

  Okay, she did, but it was stupid because the kiss that Lucky and she had shared was a fake one. The one the stripper had given him was likely the most recent of many.

  “Sugar, this is Cassie, Mason-Dixon’s daughter,” Lucky said, making introductions.

  Until then Sugar hadn’t noticed Cassie in any way. That happened a lot, too, whenever Cassie was around Lucky, but Sugar acknowledged her now. “Don’t you breathe one word to your dad about this,” Sugar warned her. No lovey-dovey look for Cassie. “I could lose my job.”

  Apparently, that was a big deal to Sugar, though Cassie couldn’t imagine this being a job worth keeping. The place smelled like a urinal mixed with other bodily fluids that Cassie didn’t want to identify. There were always rumors that her father was pimping out his girls, but to the best of her knowledge, he’d never been arrested for it.

  “This way,” Sugar said. “But you need to hurry. No telling who could come walking in here.”

  Sugar herself didn’t exactly hurry. She fell into step alongside Lucky. “How much longer are you gonna be in town?” she asked.

  “I’m not sure.” Unlike Sugar, he seemed focused on the task. “Cassie and I have been busy with the girls.”

  Sugar glanced back at her, giving her a head-to-toe examination in the span of a couple of seconds. Apparently, she didn’t approve, but Sugar’s narrowed eyes relaxed when she turned back to Lucky.

  Cassie had only been to the strip club once in her life, and that was when she’d been trying to mend fences between her father and grandmother, but she’d never been to this back hallway. Only to her father’s office just off the front of the building. At the time, she’d thought his office had to be the worst part of the place, but she’d been wrong. This was.

  It was a tangle of dressing rooms and rooms with unmade beds. Junk was strewn everywhere, including outside the door where they stopped. There was a pair of red thong panties on the floor and someone had used a black marker to scrawl Mason-Dick on the door.

  “Mason-Dixon keeps this locked,” Sugar explained, but she plucked a bobby pin from her hair and had the lock open in a snap.

  The moment Sugar opened the door, Cassie heard the cats. And smelled them. She hadn’t thought anything else could cut through the Slippery Pole smells, but she’d been wrong about that, too. Apparently, her father hadn’t changed the litter box, though at least there were bowls of food and water. That still wouldn’t earn him any favors in her eyes. He simply didn’t want his “investments” to starve to death.

  All three of the cats started meowing, and the Persian—her Gran’s favorite—began to coil around Cassie’s legs, looking for attention. Cassie gave all three a quick pet, but they had to hurry now. She and Lucky put the three into their kennels and started back out.

  They didn’t get far.

  “Sugar?” her father called out. Judging from the sound of his voice and the footsteps, he was headed straight toward them.

  “Oh, God,” Cassie whispered, something that she was fairly sure was said often in this place. Not as a prayer, either.

  “Sugar?” he repeated. “What the hell are you doing here so early?”

  “Go,” Sugar insisted, closing the door to her father’s room and locking it. She started toward those footsteps. “Hurry.”

  It was really good advice, but it came a few seconds too late. Her father was right there, and Cassie braced herself for a confrontation, but thankfully he had his attention fixed on Sugar.

  Lucky pulled Cassie into one of the junky rooms, but he didn’t stop there. He yanked
her to the floor on the other side of a bed, and he threw some clothes over the kennels. Probably so her father wouldn’t be able to hear the cats should they start meowing.

  The covers worked. Maybe it was the sudden darkness, but the cats stayed quiet. Cassie’s breathing, not so much. That’s because in the scurry to hide, she had ended up with Lucky on top of her. With her head right next to a box of condoms. If she believed in such a thing as fate, she might have thought it was trying to tell her something. But Cassie didn’t believe in that kind of fate.

  However, she did believe in basic animal attraction. Lucky was an animal. So was she, and she was attracted to him. Along with seemingly every other female in town.

  For some stupid reason, she remembered the part about him not having had sex for three months. Maybe that made his body more attentive to hers. And vice versa. Maybe it was because he’d just risked jail to save the cats when he didn’t even like them.

  Maybe it was because she herself hadn’t had sex in such a long time.

  Whatever the reason, Cassie found herself thinking about kissing him. No. She thought about having sex with him, which, of course, would have included kissing.

  She couldn’t be sure, but Cassie thought maybe he was thinking about it, too. He shifted a little. The right kind of shift to align the parts of their bodies required for sex.

  And yes, he was interested.

  The alignment gave her proof of that because she could feel the beginnings of his erection. It was stupid to be flattered by that. Even more stupid to make him harder, but that’s what she did when she shifted her hips a little. Just enough so that if they’d been naked, they would have had accidental sex.

  A hoarse sound rumbled in Lucky’s throat, and when his eyes came to hers, he had a “what do you think you’re doing?” expression. Or maybe “two can play this game” one. He shifted, this time moving his erection against the vee of her thighs. Then into that vee.

  Cassie made her own hoarse sound.

  And shifted again.

  Good grief, this was what horny teenagers did to get off. Not that she’d ever done it, but she was fairly sure now that with some kisses it would work. Of course, just because it would work didn’t mean it should.