Shooter (Burnout) (14 page)

“Thursday night is Poker Night,” Tex informed her. “We usually rotate houses, but, I mean, if you were gonna make something anyway, and we just happened to be over here….”

Hayley leaned against the counter, mulling this opportunity. “I need chocolate cake,” she announced. “But it’s dangerous for a woman living alone to bake a whole chocolate cake.”

Tex grinned. “I love chocolate cake. And I can see how that might become a problem.”

Chris smiled. “We can all see how that’s a problem.”

Hayley gasped.

“Oh, shit,” Hawk muttered.

“What?” Chris asked innocently. “Like she hasn’t noticed her tips getting better now that she’s filling out those jeans a little more. Helps to have a stove, Slick. Ought to be more grateful for that stove.”

“
Did you just call me fat?!
” Hayley shrieked.

The smile died on Chris’s face. “No,” he protested. “I didn’t. I said-”

Hayley gaped at him. “I cannot believe you! I made you a peach pie. From scratch, even the crust! And you tell me I’m too fat for my clothes. Who does that?”

“A man who just screwed us out of chocolate cake,” Tex growled. “Doc! Go outside while I shoot him in leg, then come back in and give him first aid.”

Hayley turned and stormed out the open back door.

************************

“What?” Chris snapped at the men glaring at him in his own kitchen.

“Duke Poofy Pants would never call a woman fat,” Doc said.

“I didn’t!”

“Duke Poofy Pants loves women just the way they are,” said Hawk.

“I do!”

“I like a woman with a little meat on her bones,” Tex mused.

“So do I!” Chris growled. “And I didn’t say she was fat. I said she looked
good
. In fact, she could stand to gain a few
more
pounds But none of that matters because it’s just lunch!”

“I don’t think you’re gettin’ lunch,” Tex declared.

“Nope,” said Doc. “No more lunch. Hope it was good and leaves you with fond memories.”

“Might have you over for lunch,” Hawk speculated. “Might spit in your burger. Piss in your lemonade. I’d avoid lemonade if you go back over there.”

“She doesn’t make it anyway. She makes this weird sugar tea. But the sandwiches and cookies were good,” Chris said, wistfully looking at the open back door.

“Jesus H. Christ!” Tex bellowed. “You found a woman who makes Sweet Tea?” He pointed at the door. “You go! You get your ass over there ASAP and do whatever you have to do to secure me chocolate cake and sweet tea!”

Chris looked at the leftover pie. “It was good pie.”

“That is the
best
pie. They write
songs
about pie like that!” Tex yelled.

“American Pie,” Doc said helpfully.

“Cherry Pie,” said Hawk, “ ‘Cept with peaches. And I’m pretty sure there’s cinnamon in this pie.”

“There is!” Tex shouted. “And I’m betting my left nut there’s nutmeg in there, too. And French Vanilla topping. That ain’t no regular topping. That’s fancy ass vanilla! I finally found a woman who can take over some of my KP duties, so you better channel your inner Duke Poofy Pants and go smooth this over!”

*********************

Chris tapped the sliding glass door. Slick opened the glass partition but not the screen. “I’m too busy eating the entire contents of my fridge,” she told him.

He smiled to himself. “Thank you for making that pie for me.”

She hesitated. “I didn’t make it for you.”

“You said you did. Crust, too. That was some damn good crust.”

“I-” she started to argue, but gave up. “Okay. I made you the pie. For taking me to the store.”

“You made the cookies for taking you to the store.”

“Now who’s busting whose balls?” she grumbled.

Chris grinned. “Got me there.”

“I made you the pie because we both know you’re getting screwed.”

He frowned at her. “Come again?”

“I looked at a ton of places when I first came here. There were a few I could afford, but not one of them was this nice. Furnished, with new carpets, new paint, new appliances. You could be charging nearly triple what you’re charging me. I work days. I can’t pay what this place is worth.”

Chris crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Well, I like having you next door. And that’s worth a lot to me. To know you’re not gonna tear the place up again.”

“Again?”

He nodded. “Was a shit hole when I bought it last year. My 82 year old neighbor, Mrs. Conner, passed and her douchebag son rented it out to support his drug habit. Didn’t take care of the place, rented it to his dealer.”

“Oh, God.”

“It’s all right, Slick. Doc parked his cruiser in my driveway every night for two weeks. Very bad for business. I’m sure the owner got a lot of angry phone calls from his lowlife tenant. Then when we’d softened him up, the owner and I had a sit down where I explained that my very good friend Officer Tanner would keep parking there. Often. And wouldn’t it just be better all the way around if he sold the place to me? Cheap?” Hayley giggled. “So I fixed it up, with help from the boys, and now I rent it so I can control who my neighbors are.”

Hayley smiled. “You’re in control of a lot things. Your kitchen is very….orderly.”

He laughed. “Well, that’s partly because I don’t actually cook in it, but yeah, I’ve lived too long in the army to just stop doing things the army way.”

“Like mowing the lawn at 6:30 am?”

“Like mowing the lawn at 6:30 am.”

“Thank you for that,” she told him. “But you really wouldn’t consider letting me do it?”

“Not gonna happen.”

“I’d still make you lunch on Sundays.”

“You’re definitely still making me lunch on Sundays. After I mow your lawn. And you’re not fat. I never said you were, so don’t go putting words in my mouth, Slick.”

“You said my butt was big.”

“I said your butt was big-
ger,
Slick. Which makes it nicer to look at when you’re leaning over tables.”

“Don’t look at my butt.”

“Don’t watch me mow the lawn.”

“I wasn’t watching!” she protested. “You wake me up at the crack of dawn every Sunday. I was making sure the machines hadn’t come alive like a Stephen King novel because no normal person is up that early!”

He smirked. “Nice to know you read more than romance novels.”

She drew in a sharp breath. “Oh! You-”

“You’re supposed to be winning hearts and minds,” came Tex’s voice from behind Chris. “Not pissing her off more.”

“Go away,” Chris ordered.

Tex ignored his former lieutenant and looked at Slick. “Do you really have sweet tea? Like real sweet tea? Not iced tea with sweetener in it?”

Slick opened the screen door. “Yes. Come on.”

Tex breezed by Chris with a smirk and stepped inside the kitchen. Slick attempted to shut the screen door on Chris, but he shoved it open and followed his man inside. Both men took up residence in the tiny kitchen as she pulled out a glass and filled it with ice cubes from the freezer. She poured Tex a glass and he happily guzzled it down, pausing only to murmur, “Mint.” After he’d drained it, she poured him another and then produced a second glass from the fridge, with an amber brown liquid in it.

“What’s that?” Tex asked greedily.

She dangled it in front of him. “Syrup. I juiced one of the peaches.”

“Woman, you’re killing me,” Tex said and reached for the glass, pouring approximately a third of its contents into his glass and stirring it with his finger.

As he drank, he spied a novel on the counter and picked it up.

“Hey now!” Hayley said trying to get it back from him, but Tex held it out of her reach.

“The Duke’s Kiss,” he read the title then grimaced at the cover. “Probably half the book is him getting her outta that getup.”

“Probably,” Chris agreed.

“Hmm,” Tex added thoughtfully. “That’s why I don’t let ‘em wear clothes. Time saver.”

Slick squeaked in surprise. “You’re not serious.”

Tex grinned down at her. “I might be.”

“Tex,” Chris warned. “She’s not your type.”

Tex sighed and put the tea and the book down. “Sad, but true,” he agreed. “Wish I could settle for sweet tea and peach pie, darlin’. You’d be a fine one to own.”

Her mouth dropped open. “To
own
?”

Tex ignored her. “So how ‘bout that chocolate cake? Thursday night?”

She nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

“Awesome,” he said, pushing off the counter. “High time I’m not the only one cooking for this bunch of bastards.”

“You cook?” she asked, dazed.

“Best ribs in all of South Dakota,” Tex boasted.

Slick considered this. “I make ribs.”

Tex’s eyes narrowed at her. “You challengin’ me?”

She grinned. “Maybe.”

Tex stepped to her and leaned down. “Memorial Day BBQ. Bring your A game, Slick. Don’t mess with Texas.”

Slick crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Well, don’t mess with GRITS.”

Then Chris saw both of them stiffen. Hayley took a step back and scowled. Tex’s face matched hers. Whatever just happened wasn’t good, but Tex covered it up by saying, “Friday night. Chocolate cake,” and walked out.

Hayley crossed to the sink and washed his glass.

“Getting late,” Chris announced. “Game hasn’t even started yet.”

She nodded, not looking at him.

Chris slid the door closed behind him. When he entered his place his eyes sought out Tex immediately.

“Want to explain what just happened?” he demanded.

Tex sighed and drummed his fingers on the counter. “Your girl got sassy and fucked up, that’s what.”

“What happened?” Hawk asked, drifting into the kitchen.

“I don’t know,” Chris admitted. “One minute they were going at each other, friendly-like, and then the minute she mentioned grits and the whole room turned glacial.”

Hawk chuckled. “Only Tex would start a fight over food.”

Tex shook his head. “She wasn’t talking about food. GRITS. It’s an acronym. Girls Raised in the South.”

“Phoenix isn’t the south,” Doc noted.

“Nope. Sure ain’t,” Tex agreed.

“Shit,” Chris muttered. “Sunday she said she learned to make the cookies at a bakery in Albuquerque.”

“Albuquerque?” Hawk asked.