Rock Chick 03 Redemption (5 page)

Everyone (but Daisy) was wearing jeans (though Daisy was wearing a jeans
skirt
encrusted with rhinestones at the hem, the pockets and along the seams).

Little did I know, this was a recipe for disaster for me.

At the time, I thought this party crush was a good thing. In fact, I was having fun. Uncle Tex had good friends, they seemed to like him a lot and I felt comfortable with them immediately. This meant I could enjoy myself, maybe a bit too much and maybe a bit too crazily considering the fact that Daisy told me a story about her, Al y, Jet and Indy stun gunning some women in a bar that made me double over laughing and nearly pee my pants and Tod told me a story about Indy lip-synching with him during a drag show that made me shove him in the shoulder and shout “
Shut up!
” so loud everyone turned to stare. This also meant I could easily avoid Hank at the same time, (wel , kind of, it wasn’t a big duplex, but I tried real hard).

I was doing pretty wel , for a while.

Trouble was, it was a good party, nice (albeit slightly crazy) people who enjoyed each other’s company and bowls of cashews (everyone knew, cashews equaled good party). Worse stil , Indy was at the martini shaker and she made a mean dirty martini, so good, I had three before I even realized it.

Worse than that (and my fatal mistake a couple of hours into the party), I took a bite of Jet’s chocolate caramel layer squares while Hank was in the vicinity.

I didn’t know, no one warned me.

I bit in.

I chewed.

I closed my eyes in oblivious pleasure.

Then, I moaned.

I couldn’t help myself, they were that good.

When I opened them, the Handsome Troop, including Lee, Eddie, Mace, Vance
and
Hank were al staring at me and Lee and Eddie had lost their scary looks.

Hank was looking at me like he wanted to take a bite out of me.

My heart skipped a beat and my head went dizzy.

I covered quickly.

“What?” I asked after I swal owed. “They’re good.” Uncle Tex’s hand went to the top of my head. “You can tel she’s family.”

Al y came up as Indy whisked empty martini glass number three out of my hand and exchanged it with ful martini glass number four, better known to al as Naughty Girl Martini.

“Heard you bought Tex a cel phone,” Al y said.

“Yeah!” I replied, maybe a bit more excitedly than a new cel phone warranted, and I pul ed it out of my pocket. “I’m getting everyone’s numbers for him. What’s your number?” I flipped it open, bent my head and hit the buttons that would add numbers to the phone book.

“I’m not gonna use it,” Uncle Tex said.

“Trust me, you’l use it,” I told him.

“Waste of good fuckin’ money,” Uncle Tex said.

I looked up and scowled at him.

“I’m tel ing you, Uncle Tex, you’l use it!” It wasn’t so much tel ing him he’d use it as ordering him to use it.

He grinned. “Darlin’ girl, you’re cute when you’re riled.”

“And you’re annoying when you’re stubborn,” I shot back and took a sip of martini (okay, maybe it was a gulp) thus catapulting myself into Naughty Girl Martini Land.

He just shook his head at me like I was funny.

My scowl darkened.

“What happens when Nancy wants to get hold of you when you’re out in the El Camino? Hunh? What then?” Uncle Tex’s face got red, and it wasn’t from anger, or maybe, I should say, it wasn’t
entirely
from anger.

If I’d been paying attention (which I was not, I was too drunk to pay attention), I’d have noticed that al the women in my vicinity (including Indy, Al y, Jet, Daisy and Trixie) smiled and al the men (including Hank, Lee, Vance, Mace and Eddie) tensed.

“Roxie,” I heard a deep voice say from behind me.

It wasn’t a voice that was total y familiar to me but I knew it anyway.

It was Hank.

“Wel ?” I asked Uncle Tex, ignoring Hank and putting the hand with the cel to my hip.

“Roxanne Gisel e, you’re cruisin’ for a bruisin’,” Uncle Tex said in a low boom.

“Ha!” I replied. It wasn’t much of a comeback but I felt Hank behind me and it was al I could come up with.

Tex leaned in, Hank’s hand wrapped around my arm and he pul ed me away from Uncle Tex’s threatening pose and back into his body. I was too drunk for an evasive maneuver and anyway, I liked the feel of his body against me.

Tex’s eyes went beyond me.

“Nightingale, maybe you should take her out back and program your number into my new fuckin’ phone.”

“I’m thinkin’ that’s a good idea,” Hank said behind me.

Sanity returned and I was thinking it was a very, very bad idea.

Too late, Hank was steering me sideways, then forward, through the dining room. He grabbed a jacket off the back of a chair and then moved me through the kitchen and out the backdoor.

* * * * *

That’s when it al began.

The beginning of the end.

* * * * *

The cold night air outside was like a slap in the face. If I wasn’t in Naughty Girl Martini Land, I would have sobered instantly. Unfortunately, I was deep in Naughty Girl Martini Land. So deep, I was skipping dazedly through the Naughty Girl Martini forest and leaping over the Naughty Girl Martini streams, completely oblivious to everything.

I shoved the cel phone in my back pocket and turned to face Hank.

“Uncle Tex is stubborn,” I said, sounding uppity.

Hank had flipped on the outside light and there was a streetlight in the al ey behind Indy’s house. Both il uminated us and I watched as he walked up to me and threw out the jacket. His arm came around one side of me, his other hand came up on the other side to catch the edge and settle the jacket around my shoulders. Both his hands pul ed the jacket closed at my neck and stayed there.

I warmed up immediately, even as I shivered.

“Think that runs in the family,” Hank remarked.

“I’m not stubborn!” I retorted, though I knew I was.

“Right,” he replied but his lips were twitching.

“We should go in there, show Uncle Tex how to use his phone. It’s good for emergencies, and, if the stories he’s been tel ing me are anything to go by, there are a fair lot of emergencies amongst you al .”

Hank’s eyes locked on mine. “Gotta admit, that’s the truth.”

“Whisky, it’s not only the truth, it’s an understatement.” His hands flexed and he came closer. My body stil ed at his further invasion of my space.

“Whisky?” he asked softly, his namesake eyes going languid and my heart skipped in my chest.

I ignored his question, his eyes and my heart and leaned back a bit. I wasn’t so far gone into Naughty Girl Martini Land to lose my safety bearings
that
much.

I went on doggedly. “From what I read in his letters, Uncle Tex respects you. If
you
told him to use the phone, he might do it.”

“I think it might be a good idea if you leave the phone alone.”

I tilted my head to the side and narrowed my eyes at him.

Before I could say anything, he asked, “Not stubborn?”

“Nope,” I lied immediately.

“Right.” Then he grinned, ful on this time.

“Stop grinning at me, Whisky. I’m not stubborn.”

“Next thing, you’l tel me you’re not high maintenance.” I gasped. “I’m not!”

I was. I was total y high maintenance.

His eyes moved over my face.

“Jesus. Yesterday, if someone told me Tex’s niece looked like you, I would’ve laughed at them.
Acted
like you, maybe,
looked
like you, no way.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean stubborn, ful of attitude, a little crazy.”

“I’m not crazy!” I
was
crazy, though not as crazy as Uncle Tex.

“Right,” Hank said again.

“You’ve known me what? Ten seconds? And you think you have me figured out.”

“Sweetheart, I had you figured out the minute you walked into Fortnum’s.”

I felt my breath catch then lock.

With effort, I unlocked it and exhaled. I decided to push the issue, don’t ask me why, it was stupid. Then again, I was a little hammered (okay, maybe a lot hammered).

“And you think I look high maintenance?”

“Eddie cal ed it and Eddie’s right.”

Good God. They’d been talking about me.

“So that’s why Eddie doesn’t like me,” I said.

His grin faded, his hands fel away and he moved back.

I didn’t like this. I liked his hands where they were, they made me feel warm and, if I was honest, safe.

made me feel warm and, if I was honest, safe.

“Eddie doesn’t have a lot of patience for high maintenance.”

“Eddie doesn’t know me wel enough to throw me and neither do you.”

“Eddie’l get to know you and he’l get over it. I’m already over it.”

I didn’t want him to be over it. I didn’t want him to be anything.

This wasn’t strictly true, but I was trying to go with that thought as best I could considering I was highly inebriated.

Hank was watching me and I could tel he was reading my thoughts.

“How long are you staying in Denver?” he asked.

“Awhile.”

“How long is awhile?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“Long enough to have dinner with me?”

Holy cow. I’d read it in Uncle Tex’s letters but now it was right here in front of me. When they wanted something, these Denver boys
did not
fuck around.

I blinked at him.

“What?” I asked.

“You heard me.”

I blinked again.

“That isn’t a good idea,” I replied and threw out my arm for emphasis.

Unfortunately, the hand attached to my arm was stil carrying a martini and it sloshed al over the bricks paving the backyard
and
on Hank’s jacket.

“Shit! I’m sorry,” I said, turning to put the glass on a table and starting toward the door, using this as what I considered a golden opportunity to execute an escape plan. “I’l go and get a towel.”

Hank caught my arm and stopped me.

Escape plan thwarted.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said.

“I got vodka on your jacket.”

“It’l clean.”

I stared at him.

“It won’t clean, it’s suede. Dammit, it’s soaking through.

I’l buy you a new one.”

“You aren’t buyin’ me a new jacket.”

“I am, this’l be ruined,” I told him. “We have to get a towel.”

“You’re avoiding my question.”

“You’re avoiding the vodka stain!”

I
was
avoiding his question. I was avoiding it with everything I had.

He drew me closer to him.

“Let’s get back to dinner. Tomorrow night. I’l pick you up at six thirty. Where are you staying?”

I shook my head, “Uncle Tex and I’l be playing with the cats.”

It wasn’t good but it was the best I had.

He drew me closer.

“Is there a reason you don’t want to have dinner with me?” he asked.

Yes, there was a reason; there were mil ions of them.

None of which I was going to share, the biggest of which was Bil y.

“No,” I lied.

“Where are you staying?” Hank, obviously, could be stubborn too.

“Listen, Whisky, I’m here to see my uncle, then, I’m gone.”

He drew me even closer, pul ing me in front of him so that my breasts nearly brushed his chest. He looked down at me and smiled.

My mind went blank and I stared.

It might sound stupid, but his smile was breathtaking. He had great teeth.

“Sweetheart,” he said in a low voice, “You were here to see your uncle until you stepped into Fortnum’s and saw me and I saw you. You know it and I know it. You want me to convince you. I’m prepared to do that.”

Yowza.

My stomach pitched and I could feel my breasts swel , so much so, I was surprised they didn’t poke him in the chest.

I wanted him to convince me, I wanted that a lot. Maybe that was why I said what I said next.

“You have no idea why I’m here.”

His face came closer to mine and for some reason, I didn’t move.

I real y should have moved.

His eyes looking into mine, he said, “No, I don’t. But you’l tel me over dinner tomorrow night.”

“I don’t think so.”

“I do.”

I started to panic, mainly because I was realizing if I didn’t get away, he was going to kiss me.

I pul ed at my arm.

“I need to go inside.”

The hand not on my arm came to my hip and his fingers bit into me, gentle but firm, holding me where I was.

“Where are you staying?” he asked.

My heart started racing.

“Let me go.”

“I see I have to convince you,” he said this like it was an advantageous turn of events that pleased him a great deal.

I was going to say no. I should have been quicker about it, but his hand at my hip pul ed mine into contact with his, his head came down and he kissed me.

Good God.

It was true, these Denver boys
did not
fuck around. It wasn’t a soft or gentle kiss, a brush or touch of the lips. It was a
kiss
kiss; his mouth opening over mine, his tongue insistent against my lips until they parted (which, I’m afraid to admit, didn’t take a lot of insisting) and then his tongue slid inside.

His fingers stopped biting into my hip, mainly because I’d leaned into him, my arms lifted and slid around his neck and my left hand went into his hair. I tilted my head to the side and kissed him back.

I couldn’t help it, it was the best kiss I’d ever had. It beat even Bil y’s finest mouth talents by a mile.

When he lifted his head, I kept my eyes closed and breathed. “Holy cow.”

“Where are you staying?” he asked against my mouth.