“They got hot-fudge sundaes,” the boys sang in unison. “With whipped cream,” they taunted.
A groan emerged as she imagined a cool dollop of sweet cream melting on her tongue. Seventeen dollars and sixty-two cents! a voice screamed inside her head.
“That’s they have hot-fudge sundaes,” she corrected. She held out a hand, unable to still the tremor running through it. “Boys, hand me the menu, please.”
They grumbled but passed it over. She located the items they requested and forced her fingers to trail across the sticky laminate to the price. A quick estimate of the total informed her the purchase would leave two dollars and eleven cents in her pocket.
“So can we? Can we?” Jayden pleaded, tapping the table with the heel of his hand. “We’ve been good all day, Aunt Cissy.”
Good was an understatement. They hadn’t uttered a peep when she’d been evicted that afternoon. Evicted. Cissy scoffed, turning to peer into the darkness outside the window.
So what? That seedy apartment wasn’t fit to live in anyway. And she’d told the landlord so. The sleazy pig. She’d stabbed her finger two inches from his filthy mouth and advised him not to proposition the next female tenant. She might have the money to sue him.
Throwing her hands over her eyes, she groaned and slumped into her elbows on the table. Why did she have to do that? Her temper tended to cost her a lot of things, but a bed for the boys was too high a price.
After she’d unloaded on the landlord, there had been no choice but to stuff the boys, herself and the entirety of their possessions into her beat-up Toyota and leave. A quick pit stop for gas and they’d undertaken the journey from the busy interstates of Atlanta to the isolated stretches of Deep South Georgia roads.
Cissy rolled her eyes and dropped back against the thin padding of the booth. Things would’ve been okay if her cousin wasn’t so dang irresponsible. Kip had promised them a place to stay. But when she’d banged on his door with a hungry twin on each arm and in desperate need of a restroom, there’d been no answer.
It wasn’t until ten minutes later that he’d cracked the door open, drunk and disheveled. He was so sorry. He’d forgotten they were coming. He just needed a minute to get the room ready.
She’d been okay with that. Really. She had to be. Kip was the last bit of family she had left. And the boys needed a bed for the night. She had almost talked herself into it. Or she had, until a busty brunette had slumped in the doorway to coo at the boys, her curves barely concealed by the grimy sheet gripped against her.
One look at the woman’s makeup-smeared face and slack expression had her clamping a hand over the boys’ eyes and hauling them away again. No way was she exposing them to that! She’d find something else. She’d cut corners somewhere and they’d splurge on a motel room for a few nights.
But after driving six counties down, she had yet to find a motel. The drive had sucked away most of her money. And dinner would take almost every penny she had left. Her last emergency stash remained in the glove compartment. And it was tiny. Forget being able to pay for a motel room for more than one night.
“Please, Aunt Cissy.” Kayden scowled.
“Mama woulda got us the triple burger if she was here,” Jayden added, laying his cheek on the table. His eyelids sagged beneath the weight of the day.
A shaft of pain knifed her gut. She would have. Crystal would have moved heaven and earth for them. She always had. That was until cancer had taken over and she’d been unable to do anything for them. Or for herself.
Cissy’s vision blurred. She’d lost half her soul the day they’d lowered her twin sister’s coffin into the ground.
Oh, Crystal, how could you ever think I was up to this?
“Y’all ready to order?” A perky waitress smiled and propped a hand on her curvy hip.
Blinking hard, Cissy snapped the menu shut and nodded. “A triple-decker cheeseburger, onion rings and a hot fudge sundae.” The boys squealed. “And could you cut the burger in half and bring an extra plate, too, please?”
Ms. Perky’s smile widened. She winked as the boys bounced with excitement. “Of course. And for you?”
Cissy glanced down at the dregs lining her white mug. “Coffee refills are free, right?”
The smile wavered. “Well, yes, honey.”
Forcing a bright smile of her own, Cissy passed her the metal condiment holder. “Then I’ll take a refill and as many sugars as that’ll hold. Thanks.”
The smile slipped. “Sure thing, honey,” the waitress murmured, lowering her eyes and carting the small container away.
Cissy lifted her chin. Lord, she really hated that look. That sad, woeful tilt of the lips. That sappy expression of pity. She should be used to it by now. But each time she found it stung even more than the time before.
“Aunt Cissy, look over there.” Kayden pointed at a row of candy machines by the entrance. “They got—I mean, they have—jawbreakers.”
“No, Kayden,” she returned, rubbing a hand over her brow. “You’re about to eat supper.”
“But they’re only twenty-five cents and you get two.” His voice continued to rise. “Me and Jayden could save ’em for tomorrow.”
Cissy’s head throbbed, her patience thin. Oh, for goodness’ sakes. What did a quarter matter now? Digging deep into her pocket, she dragged out a quarter between pinched fingers. Kayden plucked it from her almost before air hit it.
Moments later, the slap and bang of hands and feet on glass sounded.
“Boys.” Cissy crouched around the side of the booth, shooting glances at the stares leveled on them. “Stop it.”
“But it’s stuck, Aunt Cissy,” Jayden said, clenching his hands into small fists. “And it’s got our quarter.”
Cissy sucked her teeth and slid out of the booth. She grabbed the silver knob on the candy machine and gave it a few good turns.
“See. Told you,” Jayden stated.
“Yeah, it’s ripping you off, Aunt Cissy.” Kayden stamped his foot.
“It’s not ripping me off. And I’m not the one that had to have a jawbreaker anyway.”
Truly reaching her breaking point, Cissy tightened her grip and twisted in rough jerks. The machine creaked and tilted forward on its loose pole with each of her efforts.
“Aw, she ain’t gonna be able to do it. She’s a girl.” Kayden pouted.
Jayden nodded, looking disappointed.
“That’s, she will not be able to do it,” she corrected, “and I most certainly will.”
Girl. That upped the stakes. She’d made it this far without help. Girl or not.
She braced her foot on the skinny pole connected to the base and gave the knob a vicious tug. Nothing.
Cissy’s throat constricted. Maybe this was the last of many signs that she should have gone back. Returned the boys.
What had she expected? That her luck would suddenly change and things would go her way for once? She knew better than that. One thing she’d learned in her twenty-five years was to always keep expectations low. Yet, here she was thinking she could provide for the boys. That she could give them a better life than—
No. She wouldn’t go down that road. It was out of the question. She’d made a promise to Crystal. And the only thing she had left of value was her word.
Gritting her teeth, Cissy bent over and yanked the handle toward her as she turned. She whooped as it gave a fraction of an inch. Finally, a break.
Petty or not, she paused to gloat. “See. I’m getting it.”
She resumed the successful position and growled, her arms trembling under the strain. Heavy footfalls and a soft rush of wind at her upturned backside alerted her that someone approached. She pressed her foot harder into the pole and hopped forward a couple inches.
Good manners forced her to mutter a tight, “Ex
cuse me.”
A deep chuckle rumbled at her back. “Need a little help, ma’am?”
Cissy cut her eyes heavenward. Great. Just what she needed. Another testosterone-filled jerk.
“No, thank you,” she grunted, her whole body tightening with effort.
“Oh, let him, Aunt Cissy. He’s big. He can do it.” Jayden’s fingers tugged at her shirt, his eyes widening at the man behind her.
Tilting her chin up to the side, she found her eyes level with a large gold buckle, flat abs and thick thighs. She ripped her gaze away only for it to cling to the broad chest stretching a black T-shirt. Her mouth had gone dry by the time she made it past the man’s chiseled jaw and sexy dimples, her attention landing on the sensual curve of his mouth. His grin widened, lifting his tanned cheeks. The dark pools of his chocolate-brown eyes sparkled.
“No,” she choked, spinning back to her task. Tingles of awareness spread through her body, raising the tiny hairs on her arms.
She clamped down harder on the machine. No way was she going to play into this guy’s hands. Well built, smug smile, knowing eyes... She knew the type.
Men. The second you had a menial task of no consequence, they abounded. But the minute you got yourself truly in a pickle, they were nowhere to be found. She squeezed her eyes shut as her irresponsible cousin sprang to mind.
Right. She could do this herself. She could do all of it. Obviously, Crystal had believed in her. It was time she began believing in herself. And the first order of business was to master this dang candy machine and get her quarter back.
As it was, she needed every penny she had.
* * *
DOMINIC SLADE DRAGGED his eyes away from the shapely bottom wiggling in front of him and knuckled his Stetson higher on his brow. A quick glance to his right reminded him the majority of male eyes in the room were also getting a good look. Only truckers and vagrants peppered the diner this time of night. He took a couple of steps forward, shifting his stance to shield the blonde from their gaze.
Not that he blamed them. He appreciated the curves of a woman as much as any other man, but he’d never ogle them in front of her kids. That was low.
Dominic sighed as his body demanded otherwise. He’d been on the road too long. He should’ve given in two states back and taken what the pretty redhead at the bar had offered. He should’ve accepted when she’d pressed a cold bottle of beer into his hand and her breasts against his biceps.
But he couldn’t. Not after what the last morning-after had brought. Emptiness and regret. Self-recriminations and discontent. Part of what drove him back home was that feeling of reaching for something and never quite getting a grip on it. That and the thousandth guilt trip his brother had laid on him through the phone last week.
Brow creasing, he studied the woman as she struggled with the candy machine. Her attacks were relentless, the toned muscles in her pale arms and legs straining.
“Ma’am,” he proffered, “why don’t you let me give it a try?”
“No, I have it,” she huffed. Her elbows jerked toward his gut, forcing him to take a step back.
Aw, hell. Nothing worse than a stubborn woman.
He turned to find the boys scrutinizing him. Their blond heads tilted to the side and wide blue eyes drifted down the length of him with slow precision. One of the carbon copies pursed his mouth as he seemed to come to a decision.
“Aunt Cissy.” The boy’s attention remained planted on him. “Let him. You’re gonna break it.”
Her grunt preceded, “No, I’m not, Kayden.”
“Yes, you are,” he reaffirmed.
The other copy cocked his head and nodded up at Dominic. “She is, you know.”
Dominic shrugged. He should just walk away. Walking away would be nothing out of the norm for him. It would be expected, even.
Hell, the only reason he’d stopped in this hole in the wall to begin with was because they had the best burgers in a ten-state radius. Add to that, it was the last place he could catch his breath before the heavy press of home stifled it.
Besides, the quills on this gal’s back could rival a porcupine. A man couldn’t be blamed for self-preservation.
A high-pitched squeak cut through the air as the rubber sole of her scuffed shoe slipped off the pole. She regained her footing and bent deeper on a more ruthless attack. The hem of her denim shorts rose higher, exposing a greater expanse of smooth, creamy skin.
Dominic cast another look over his shoulder at the leering onlookers and gripped the back of his neck. The boys hovered off to the side, their faces clouded with doubt.
Hadn’t he chosen to make this quick trip home with the intention of leaving on better terms? Maybe this was his first test. An opportunity to try being more responsible before his brother got a chance to cut into him.
Dominic stretched around her and touched the back of her hand with his palm. “Ma’am, you’re not really getting anywhere—”
“I appreciate your offer but I’m doing just fine, thank you.” She puffed a short strand of golden hair out of her face and glared up at him.
Damn. Those cornflower-blue eyes could bring a man to his knees. Or rip a gaping wound in his chest, which seemed to be her preference at the moment. He sprang to action as the candy machine took a sharp swing toward the boys.
“Now, look,” he gritted, wrapping both arms around her trim waist to straighten the glass bowl, “this thing’s about on its last leg—”
“I’m aware of that. If it wasn’t, I wouldn’t be in this predicament.” She shoved her hip into his gut as the machine tottered on its stand.
“Y’all need some help?” A voice prompted from behind.
“No.”
“Yes.” Her shout outweighed his.
Dominic threw an apologetic look over his shoulder to find Sheila, a waitress he’d gotten to know too well on his last visit home, watching with trepidation.
“Well, Dom,” Sheila squealed. She slapped her notepad against her apron, her gaze dropping south. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”
Her stare penetrated the denim stretched over his backside. Yep. That night was high up on his list of regrets.
“Good to see you, Sheila,” Dominic said, politeness spurring the lie.
He winced as an elbow thrust into his ribs, and turned to growl, “Let go and let me help you.”
“You let go.”
The words had barely escaped her mouth when he heard a sharp snap. She crashed back into his chest, toppling them both to the floor. Dominic had a split second of warning to roll her body under his before the candy-filled globe crashed at their side scattering glass and jawbreakers around them.
Yelps from the boys punctuated the sudden silence of the diner.
“Oh, Aunt Cissy, you broke it.” One boy clapped his hands to his cheeks.
“I told you she was gonna break it.” The other smirked, crossing his arms over his chest.
“You all right?” Dominic rasped, flexing his hand against the back of her head.
Her soft hair brushed his palm as she nodded. The tight press of her breasts against his chest sent a wave of heat through him. Clearing his throat, he surveyed her flushed face. Her blue eyes widened and her lush lips trembled.
Dominic bit back a grin. She sure packed a wallop for such a tiny thing. Almost more than a few bulls he’d sat on recently. Except she was a helluva lot prettier. And a damned deal softer.
A subsequent crack issued from the remaining half of the machine. A metal piece banged to the floor and a rush of quarters poured out.
“She really broke it,” the smug twin muttered with a disapproving shake of his head.
Dominic shifted his weight and rose to a kneeling position. The crack and crush of glass and candy erupted under each of his movements. Brushing debris
off his boots, he proceeded to throw out a hand as the more outspoken twin moved toward them.
“Stay back,” Dominic directed. “There’s too much glass.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Sheila clamped a hand to her ample chest. “That thing should’ve been replaced a long time ago.”
Dominic opened his mouth to speak but the curvy bundle beneath him beat him to it.
“No, it was my fault.” Issuing a soft apology, she pushed up on her elbows and made to rise.
“Wait.” Dominic eyed the smooth skin of her thighs and calves. “You’re gonna cut yourself.”
Against his better judgment, he wrapped his arms around her again, obtained a firm foundation with his feet and lifted her up against his chest. He followed the shaky point of her finger to a nearby booth.
“Th-thanks,” she stammered, brushing his hands away when they lingered a moment too long.
Nodding, he took refuge in assisting Sheila to sweep up the piles of broken glass and crushed candy.
Well, damn. Twenty minutes from home, he’d been intent upon tossing a hot meal in his stomach, recovering from his last tour on the circuit and bolstering the courage to dig his feet into the dirt of his family’s ranch again.
Instead, here he was, cleaning up a woman’s mess. Something he’d been very careful to avoid over the years. So much for doing the right thing.
The back of his neck prickled, alerting him to the fact that the boys still observed him with interest. The soft hush of whispers and the shuffling of small feet around him solidified his suspicions.
“Hey, mister.”
Dominic stilled his rough sweeping to look down. The more outspoken boy, who he recalled was named Kayden, barely reached his waist but jutted his chin out and eyed him with uncertainty.
“You a real cowboy?” he posed with all the seriousness of a sheriff.
A smile quirked Dominic’s lips. “I’ve been accused of it before.”
“He looks like one,” Kayden’s replica informed him in a stage whisper. “He’s got a hat and boots.”
The Texas Ranger's Family Page 18
