Tex (Burnout) (2 page)

She shook off the thought and headed to the store, stocking up based on a suggested list downloaded from the internet. Back at her condo, she stored the items, but couldn’t bring herself to actually use any of them. Instead she picked up her purse again and headed back out to her car.

Maria’s was dark inside, but not a dive she realized as her eyes adjusted from the late afternoon light. She picked a stool at the bar, slung her purse on the counter and had a seat. She was still going to need another decent night’s sleep before she was over this moving thing.

The tall blonde behind the bar gave her a chin raise. “Menu?” Abby asked politely. The blonde handed it to her. Abby flipped through it. The only thing remotely healthy was a cobb salad. The bacon cheeseburgers sounded delicious, but Abby was a size twelve and had been almost since she hit puberty at fourteen. Thank God she’d inherited her mother’s height, 5’7” without the heels. But still, if she wanted to continue to indulge in her desire for french lingerie, she had to stay within the standard size range.

“Can I get a cobb salad?” she asked the blond. “And a martini?”

The blonde eyed her over the menu Abby was handing back. “Cobb salad, yes. But we don’t serve Cosmos here, darlin’.”

Although Abby had had a rough couple of days driving 1,070 miles in her cramped, piece of crap Toyota, she smiled at the woman. “You have Death’s Door?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you put it in a glass and I’ll pretend there’s vermouth and an olive in it?”

The blonde cracked a smile. “Can do, Red. Can do.”

Abby waited for her salad, sipped her gin, and tried to pretend she wasn’t waiting on someone. It was an odd time of day. Just before 5 pm. He wouldn’t be here now anyway. She was just checking out RC’s best watering hole, that’s all. It’s not like if he walked through the door she’d suddenly become a wittier, prettier, more dazzling version of herself. Talking to men at work, about work, because of work was one thing. Talking to them on a personal level was not a thing she was good at.

A thin, beautiful brunette wearing jeans and a blue t-shirt came out of the kitchen carrying Abby’s salad. Abby guessed the girl wasn’t too much older than herself, if at all. “Hey!” the brunette said brightly. “Here you go.” As Abby picked up her glass to make room for the salad, the girl looked at her. “I haven’t seen you in here before.”

“Just got into town last night,” Abby replied and gestured to her food. “Taking a break from unpacking. I heard a rumor this was the best place to go for a drink.”

The brunette grinned. “Oh, yeah,” she agreed. “I’m Slick.”

Abby laughed and smiled back. “Interestingly enough...I’m Vegas.” The girl laughed, too. “Does everyone have a nickname in this town?” Abby asked.

Slick snorted. “Just about. Except Maria,” she said, nodding to the blonde who was washing glasses. “She’s just Maria and I wouldn’t recommend trying to call her anything else.”

“Gotcha. Thanks for the tip.”

Slick headed out to the main floor and checked on the few people there.

“Did you say you were from Vegas?”

Abby’s head swiveled and a somewhat elderly man was sitting at the corner of the bar nursing a beer.

She nodded. “Yes, Sir. Born and raised.”

The man rubbed his chin. “I went to Vegas in ‘66. With my wife.”

“Win big or lose big?” Abby asked.

“Well, like I said, I went with my wife.”

Abby laughed.

“I’m Milo.”

“I’m Abby.”

“Did you go by Vegas when you lived in Vegas? Wasn’t that confusing?”

Abby shook her head. “Nope. Met a guy yesterday who called me ‘Vegas’. I kind of liked it. I don’t want to live in Vegas, but it’s my hometown and I still love it.” Abby sipped her gin. “Speaking of this guy,” she said casually. “I was wondering if someone here knew him. I had a thing I wanted to ask him about.”

“Got a name?” Milo asked.

Abby shrugged. “Not really. Tex. Just Tex. Ex-army, lives around her somewhere, but he didn’t say where and I didn’t think to ask.”

Mile rubbed his chin again. “Might know him. What do you want with him?”

Abby shook her head. “Don’t want anything with him. He was on a Harley, and I wanted to ask him a question about a Harley. So I was just wondering.”

Milo looked at Maria who had moved further down the bar and was restocking the clean glasses. “Maria!” he called out. She looked up from her task. “Red’s looking for Tex.”

Maria’s eyes narrowed on Abby and she felt herself actually shrink into the stool. “Why?” Maria demanded.

“Got a question about a Harley,” Milo replied, but his voice was teasing.

Abby scowled. “I do,” she insisted. “Have a question about a Harley. And he seemed like maybe the man to ask.”

Maria stared at her for a few minutes then she thumped on the swinging door. Moments later Slick appeared. “Red wants Tex,” Maria announced.

Abby felt her face flush. She did not
want
Tex. Women like her didn’t want men like Tex. Oh, they t
hought
about men like Tex. Maybe
fantasized
about men like Tex. But
wanting
Tex? It would be like being handed the reins to a 2,000 pound stallion and being told to hold on.

“You know Tex?” Slick asked. “I thought you said you just got into town last night?”

“I did. I had some car trouble and he stopped. And I forgot to get his name is all. I just wanted to ask him some questions, being as I’m new in town. That’s it.”

Slick studied her thoughtfully. Jesus, Abby thought. She hadn’t meant to alert the whole town. She picked up her purse. “Look, I’m not a stalker,” she said, pulling out one of the business cards she’d had printed as soon as she’d gotten the job. It had made everything feel more official. She put it on the bar and slid it toward the two women. “I just want to talk business with him. So since you obviously know him, maybe you could give him my card the next time you see him. If he wants to call me and help me out, great. If not, I’ll find someone else. It’s not a huge deal.”

Slick picked up the card and read it. “You’re the Assistant Manager at the Custer Hotel?”

“Yes. Well, officially I am. Though I don’t start til Monday.”

Slick was still bouncing her gaze back from the card to Abby. “Listen,” Abby finally said, “If he’s your boyfriend or something, I’m really not trying to chase after him. I’m new in town, I had a question about a bike, he
had
a bike, I thought he might be able to help me out. That’s the truth.”

“He’s not my boyfriend. I’m married,” Slick replied. “To Tex’s old lieutenant when he was in the army.”

“Shooter,” Abby said without thinking. Slick looked surprised. “He mentioned it.”

Maria put her hand on her hip. “Must’ve been an awful long conversation.”

Abby shrugged and tried to appear nonchalant. “My car was acting funny so I pulled over. I was cleaning spark plugs and he happened along. We got to talking while I was fixing my car.”

“Tex made you fix your own car?” Slick asked.

Abby’s eyebrows furrowed. “Made me? No. I was already fixing it when he pulled up behind me. It’s
my
car.”

Slick pocketed the card. “I’ll tell him you’re looking for him.”

Abby was momentarily stunned that everyone had made this such a big deal. “Okay. Well...thanks.” She poured the rest of her gin directly down her throat, and left a twenty for the bill. “Good night,” she said to them and quickly left the building.

Jeez, she thought as she headed to her car. They’d all acted like she was trying to track him down for alimony or something. She slid behind the wheel and cranked the engine. Thankfully the idle was still the right speed though she did need to have the plugs replaced. She pulled out of the lot and headed back to the condo.

Rapid City sure wasn’t anything like Vegas.

CHAPTER TWO

On Sunday night, Tex pulled his Harley in behind Hawk’s and killed the engine. He pocketed his keys and headed across the lawn and up the steps of the two story log cabin. He entered without knocking. He was the last to arrive and he shucked his leather jacket, hanging it up in the entryway next to the others.

“Something smells good,” he called, heading into the living room.

Hawk was on the couch with a beer. “Slick’s making pot roast.”

“Nice,” Tex replied. He rounded the corner of the hallway and headed into the kitchen where the 5’3” woman was stabbing potatoes to see if they were done. He leaned down and kissed her on the top of the head. “Smells good, Slick.”

“Thanks,” she said.

“Stop mauling my woman,” said a voice from behind him. Tex turned and saw Chris ‘Shooter’ Sullivan ambling into the kitchen.

Tex grinned at his former lieutenant. “I can’t. She smells like meat and potatoes. It’s primal instinct.” Tex reached out to snag a piece of meat and Slick slapped him with her hand. He jerked it back. “Damn woman!”

“Wash your hands.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Tex said, teasingly and headed to the sink. As he dried them off, Slick looked back at him over her shoulder.

“Tex? Do you know a girl named Abby Raines?”

Tex frowned. “I’m not- wait- I met an Abby on Friday afternoon. Tall, redhead, amazing green eyes.”

Slick’s own eyes widened. “Really? She’s looking for you.”

A slow grin spread on his face. He couldn’t get exactly what he wanted from that hot little recently-ex-co-ed, but she’d sure be fun to tumble around with in the sack.

“Not like that,” Slick admonished and his grin faltered a bit. “She wanted to ask you something. About your bike. She didn’t really say.” He grinned again. Yeah, okay. That was a cover story he could deal with. Sure. She wanted to ask about his Harley. Slick rolled her eyes at him. “She really did say it was just a question.” Slick pulled out a card and handed it to him.

Tex examined it. “She said she worked at a hotel. Didn’t say it was that posh one off Main Street. Very nice.” He pocketed it.

“Who works at a hotel off main street?” Hawk asked, coming in to wash his own hands.

“Cute redhead I met the other day. I helped her with her spark plugs.”

“Is that what we’re calling it now?” Hawk asked, drying his hands.

“You can after I give her a call and meet her for drinks,” Tex told his friend.

“Take her someplace she can get a martini,” Slick told him. “She had to settle for straight gin at the bar.”

Tex considered this. “Hmm, I can do that. In fact, we can meet up at that hotel she works at. Get our drinks downstairs and then head
upstairs
for-”

“Stop!” Slick demanded. “No scary stories.”

Tex laughed. “Relax, Slick. Even vanilla sex with Vegas would be a hell of a good time.”

“Vegas?” Hawk asked.

“She’s from there. Grew up there,” Tex replied.

“Vegas is a weird town,” Hawk said. “Maybe you don’t want to get mixed up with a woman who might be freakier than you, cowboy.”

Tex frowned. “I would
love
to get mixed up with a girl who was freakier than me. Especially one who looks like Vegas. But I don’t think there are any.” Tex opened the utensil drawer and grabbed a handful of spoons, forks, and knives and went to set Slick and Shooter’s table for dinner.

He waited until Friday to give Vegas a call, not wanting to come on too strong and not wanting to give her too much lead time to talk herself out of going for a drink with him. She seemed pretty locked down sexually when he’d tried to flirt with her and got nowhere. He would’ve thought she wasn’t interested except she’d had her hair pulled up off her neck and he could see her pulse in her throat, banging away when he’d complimented her and touched her hand.

She had gorgeous red hair, deep green eyes, ripe, full lips, a rack to die for and an ass to match. Surely he hadn’t been the only person to ever compliment her on her looks. She was up for an award for worst-dressed woman in South Dakota, though, with those loose jeans and ill-fitting t-shirt. But then she’d been on a road trip 1,000 miles from Vegas to Rapid City and he knew he’d rather be comfortable than fashionable in a similar situation.