AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Cole just laughed and told her to take care.
Then her sister Jedidiah called. Jedidiah had left home at eighteen. She took a lot of computer courses at several community colleges while she worked her way around the country doing office work. At the moment she lived in California. Other than knowing her sister did something with computers, Damaris had no idea of her exact profession. Jedidiah was always very evasive about what she actually did.
Jedidiah was secretive about her own stuff, but she had a way of extracting all the information she wanted from others very quickly. Mostly by asking. Damaris thought it was in the look she gave a person, implying she could see right through them. She was glad they were on a regular phone call and not a video call. If Jedidiah saw her, she’d probably know something was up. “So, you and the hottie. About time.”
“Why does everyone say that?”
Jedidiah laughed. “Because it’s true? I’ve only met the guy a few times but as I recall, he is definitely hot.”
“He is.” Damn it. It hadn’t been a problem in the past. Why was it now?
“I always thought he had the hots for you even though you swore you were just friends. Guess I was right, huh?”
It grated on her to admit Jedidiah was right, but what else could she do when she couldn’t tell her the truth either? “Don’t break your arm patting yourself on the back.”
“Someone has to do it,” she retorted.
“When are you coming to visit?” Damaris asked, changing the subject. Hopefully this thing with Nate would be all worked out by then. Of course, she had no idea how. “I miss you.”
“Soon, I hope. But I’ll have to get back to you on that.”
The only respite Damaris had was when she took Thunder for a ride and managed to escape without anyone going with her.
Nate is going to owe me big-time.
*
Booze’s Bar and Grill hadn’t changed a lot since the days of Booze Kelly, who’d opened it over a hundred years before. It looked a bit like an old-time saloon, which was reasonable since it had been built as a mercantile then changed to a saloon when Booze bought the building. Over the years, the building had seen many renovations, but the core remained the same.
Booze himself had installed the carved mahogany bar, made in Mexico from a single tree, and the intricate tile floor around the bar was laid at the same time. The flooring in the rest of the saloon was real hardwood and had been well taken care of over the years. Behind the bar was a long row of mirrors, and glass shelves holding liquor bottles, some from years past, up high and used as decoration, the ones on the lower shelves new and used daily by the bartenders.
Nate wasn’t usually a fanciful man, but sometimes when he walked into Booze’s he got a flash of what it must have been like back in the day—cigar smoke hanging heavy in the air along with the pungent smell of whiskey. At the bar cowboys and ranchers drank and told tall tales, hoping to impress the ‘angels’ who came over from Miss Evangeline’s establishment a couple of doors down. Poker tables were scattered around the main room and card sharps and their gullible marks drank and played and drank some more.
In the present day, wood-topped tables and booths replaced poker tables and while cowboys still hung out at the bar, so did women, and there hadn’t been any ‘angels’ for a long time. Pool tables were upstairs, and the dart room was tucked away in a corner of the main floor. There were bi-monthly tournaments for both pool and darts but talk—some called it gossip—was the main thing that took place in one of the locals’ favorite hangouts.
He’d half expected Damaris to bail on him, but she answered the door when he knocked. When he saw her he almost swallowed his tongue. She wore a short-sleeved V-neck silky shirt with small flowers of every color scattered over the front of it. She’d tucked it into a short denim skirt and on her feet were—what else?—purple flowered cowboy boots that matched the blouse. She’d left her long brown hair down and it flowed over her shoulders and down her back in waves. He bet it felt every bit as soft and silky as it looked. His fingers itched to feel it, so he kept them firmly at his sides.
He could tell she wore makeup, which she didn’t usually, because her eyes were huge, dark brown, and smoky-looking. Some kind of glistening lipstick gave her lips a shine that made him want to taste her so bad he had to remind himself that to Damaris this was pretend. She’d kick his ass if he did what he wanted to. Which was devour her whole.
“You wanted to give people something to talk about.” She waved a hand at her outfit.
He couldn’t do anything but stare at her and hope he wasn’t drooling.
“What’s wrong?” Consternation flooded her face. “Is it too much? I do wear something besides jeans, you know.”
He found his voice. “Too much? Are you kidding? You look amazing.”
“Oh. Well, thanks. When you didn’t say anything, you had me worried.”
“I was struck dumb by your beauty.”
“Ha-ha. Very funny.”
He smiled but honest to God, he wasn’t joking.
“How did the new shocks work out?” she asked, getting into the car when he opened her door. Her skirt, already short, rode up a bit more.
Mercy, he thought as he shut her door and walked around to his side of the car and reminded himself to breathe. Damaris knew all about his car—a Le Mans blue 1969 convertible Corvette. She talked horses; he talked cars. Nate liked fast cars, fast planes, and—until Damaris—fast women. “Good,” he answered. “I think that fixed the problem, but you can tell me if it’s still bone-rattling.”
