Daisy's Back in Town (13 page)

She closed her eyes. Maybe she'd imagined Jack's touch. Maybe it was all in her head, but she hadn't imagined how good it was to feel a solid healthy man again. So good to feel protected. So good to feel his chest against her back and his arm around her waist. God help her, she missed that feeling. Missed it so much that she'd wanted to melt into Jack. She wondered what he'd have done if she'd turned and kissed the side of his neck. Run her tongue up his throat and her hands all over the muscles of his chest. Naked, like he'd been in his kitchen that first night. Half naked with his jeans hanging low on his hips so she could slide her palms over his flat abdomen and sink to her knees as she pressed her face into his button fly.

Daisy's lids flew open. Jack was the last man on the planet she should be fantasizing about licking and touching.

The last man on the plant who should make her think of sex.

It's been a long time, is all, she told herself as she pushed away from the door. She opened a drawer and pulled out a pair of bikini panties and her bra. She was thirty-three, and before Steven's illness, they'd had a very active sex life. Daisy liked sex and she missed it. She supposed it had only been a matter of time before her desire for intimacy returned. It was just too bad it had returned right now. Today. And it was really too bad Jack had been the trigger.

For so many obvious reasons, sex between her and Jack was out of the question.

Daisy walked from her room to the bathroom down the hail. But sex between her and someone other than Jack might be a possibility. She'd only been with two different men her whole life, maybe it was time to experiment.

She had two and a half days now before she returned to Seattle. Maybe it was time to live it up before she returned home and was a mom again. Maybe she should add "get laid" to her to-do list.

A little stab of guilt poked her conscience. Steven was dead, so why did it feel like she was contemplating cheating on her husband? She didn't know, but there it was. Right in front of her, and she knew that her guilt would probably keep her from actually doing it with anyone.

Too bad, because she probably would have liked some no-strings-attached sex. The kind where you just grab someone, do it, and never see them again.

She turned on the bathtub and held her hand under the running water. But maybe if she just did it, she wouldn't feel guilty anymore. Maybe it was like losing her virginity all over again. The first time was the most difficult.

After that, it got a whole lot easier. A whole lot funner, too.

Of course she didn't have a candidate. Maybe she should pick up some guy at a bat Someone who looked like Hugh Jackman or that one guy in the Diet Coke commercial. No, those men reminded her too much of Jack.

She should pick someone totally different. Someone like Viggo Mortensen or Brad Pitt. No, Matthew McConaughey.

Oh yeah.

But it would never be Jack. Never. That would be really really bad.

Or, a little voice inside her head whispered, it would be really, really good. As she dropped her shorts and pulled her T-shirt over her head, she was afraid that if she wasn't careful, the little voice in her head was going to get her into big, big trouble.

Most weekend nights, Slim Gem's packed 'em in from as far away as Amarillo and Dalhart. The live band played country, loud country, with an occasional southern-rock oldy thrown in. The big dance floors were always crowded, and the mechanical bulls were always running & taking on all corners with a pocket full of cash. Three different bars poured a continuous stream of icy beer, straight shots, or fruity drinks with paper umbrellas.

All manner of stuffed mammals and reptiles peered through glass eyes from built-in platforms high on the walls. If the Road Kill Bar was a taxidermist's dream, Slim Gem's was his wet dream. Although why anyone would proudly display a hog-nosed skunk was anyone's guess.

Within the dim bat Wranglers, Rockies and Lees ruled. Worn fight and in every imaginable color by women stuffed into fringed cowgirl blouses with horses appliquéd on the back. T-shirts with conches and feathers, the bottoms shredded to look like fringe, were also a big favorite as well as prairie skirts with big ruffles or jacard dresses with sweetheart collars. Hair ranged from Texas big, teased and sprayed within an inch of its life - hat head - or hair so long and straight it hung to the waist or the backs of the knees.

The men preferred Wranglers or Levi's in blue or black, some so tight a person had to wonder where they'd packed their goods. While there were men who wore starched cowboy shirts with racing flames or American flags on them, T-shirts were the hands-down favorite. Most advertised beer and John Deere tractors, while others had a different message. The ubiquitous "Don't mess with Texas" was out in full force, while "Yeah, I'm drunk, but you're still ugly," competed with the ever hopeful "Let's get Nekid."

Cowboy boots kept time with the band, and belt buckles big enough to be considered lethal weapons flashed beneath the dance floor's multicolored lights.

Daisy had never been inside Slim Clem's. When she'd lived in Lovett before, she'd been too young. But she'd heard about it. Everybody had heard about it, and she figured it was about time she experienced it for herself.

That Friday afternoon, Lily got a job at the deli counter in Albertsons, and the two of them decided to celebrate at Slim's. Daisy hadn't really brought anything to wear to a honky-tonk, but in the back of her closet, she dug out her old cowboy boots. She shoved her feet into them, and while a little light, they still fit. Her junior year in high school, she'd saved for several months to buy the red boots with the white heart inserts. Lucky for her, cowboy boots were never out of style in Texas.

In the box with her yearbooks, she pulled out her daddy's belt with the big silver buckle he'd won at the Top '0

Texas rodeo a few short months before a bull had stomped and killed him.

She put on her white cotton tank dress that closed down her breasts with eight little snaps, and she wrapped her daddy's rodeo belt around her hips. The name Rowdy was tooled into the brown leather in back. The buckle was heavy and hung down a little, but she thought she looked ready for a cowboy bar.

She rolled her hair on big curlers and stuck big hoops in her ears. She outlined her eyes with black liner, put on her shiniest red lipstick, and decided that she looked cowgirl chic.

Lily dressed for the bar in light jeans and a pink blouse she tied just below her breasts so that her navel ring showed. Her makeup was heavier than Daisy's; and when she kissed Pippen goodbye on her mother's porch, she left big pink lip prints on his cheek.

On the way to Slim Clem's, Lily laughed and joked and seemed ready to get on with her life. Daisy was ready too. Tomorrow she was going to tell Jack about Nathan, and this time nothing would stop her. Not her own fear, not a kid's birthday party, and not even a half-naked woman in his house. She was leaving Sunday afternoon, and she had to tell him tomorrow. There was no other choice.

It was after nine when they walked into the bar.

The band was singing Brooks and Dunn's "My Maria" as they paid their five-dollar cover charge. While the band hit the high notes of the song, Daisy and Lily made their way through the crowd to the closest bar and ordered two Lone Stars from the tap. Daisy paid for the first round, and the two of them lucked out and found a table near the dance floor. They sat in chairs next to each other and theft conversation turned to a critique of the people around them.

"Get a load of that guy over there in the beige cowboy shirt and hat," Lily said next to Daisy's ear.

Since that described quite a few of the men in the bar, she had to point with her glass. "He's got on jeans so tight, he must have been poured in 'em wet."

The cowboy in question was tall and lean and looked tough and hard enough to wrestle steers. "Wrangler butts drive us nuts," Daisy recited through a smile and raised her beer to her lips.

"Yes, they do," Lily agreed. Daisy couldn't recall the last time she'd been out with the girls; she'd forgotten how much she missed it. How much she needed to relax and laugh. Most of all, she was pleasantly surprised at how much she enjoyed being with her sister. The two of them laughed and scored the parade of male butts two-stepping and boot-scooting across the floor in front of them. Lily pointed to a guy in a pair of Roper's, and Daisy bent her head to one side. She had to admit, it took a very nice butt to took good in Roper's. Daisy gave him an eight, Lily a ten, they compromised on a nine.

"Did you see Ralph Fiennes's naked ass in Red Dragon?" Lily asked.

Daisy shook her head. "I don't really like to watch scary movies now that I live alone."

"Well, fast forward over the scary parts. You have to rent the video just to see Ralph's ass. He is definitely fine."

Daisy took a drink from her beer. "I saw him in

Maid in Manhattan. The movie sucked, but he looked good."

"There's a minus six," Lily said as she pointed her glass at a man in a pair of denim bib overalls and a tank top.

"The movie sucked because of J. Lo. They should have cast someone else." Lily smiled. "Like me."

Daisy felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to look up past a T-shirt that said HOLD MY BEER WHILE I KISS YOUR GIRLFRIEND and into the face of Tucker Gooch. She'd graduated high school with Tucker.

His mother, Luda Mae, had taught Home Ec at Lovett high. Tucker had often been sent to her room to sit out his punishment for some misdeed, like getting caught making out in the girls' bathroom.

Daisy stood, and from what she could see of him now, his dark hair was quite thin on top, but his eyes still shined with mischief and his mouth was curved into an irresistible smile.

"Hello, Tucker. How are you?"

He gave her a big hug. "I'm good." He held her a little fight, but his hands didn't roam down her back to her behind like they used to. "Come dance with me," he said.

She looked at Lily. "Do you mind?"

Lily shook her head, and Daisy followed Tucker out onto the dance floor. The band struck up Toby Keith's,

"Who's Your Daddy?" and Tucker lead her in the two-step. Before his illness, she and Steven had danced in a few dubs around Seattle. For several beats of the drum and slides of the steel guitar, she was afraid she'd forgotten how to dance. But dancing to country was in her blood, and she took to it again quicker than a chicken on a Cheeto. As Tucker spun her and moved with her across the floor, she felt another part of herself slide into place. The part of her that could relax and laugh and have fun.

At least for tonight.

Jack grabbed his beer from the bar then raised the bottle of Pearl to his lips. Over the bottom of the bottle, his gaze came to rest on the dance floor across the bar and the flash of white. He'd noticed Daisy the second she and Lily walked in the door. Not that he'd been looking, but those two women were hard to miss. They didn't quite fit in at Slim Clem's. Like two eclairs in a meat-and-potatoes crowd, and Jack was certain there were more than a few men in the bar thinking about eating dessert before dinner.

He lowered the bottle and shoved his free hand up to his knuckles in the front pocket of his Levi's.

He returned his gaze to Gina Brown, who stood in front of him talking about the mechanical bulls in back.

Apparently, since she was here so much, Slim's had offered her a job giving riding lessons on the weekends.

"The gal I taught this afternoon was about sixty-five," she said. "I put her up on Thunder and..."

Jack didn't give a rat's about Thunder. What he wanted to know was if his "worst nightmare" had known he would be here. He wouldn't put it past her, but if she thought he was going to get all chatty with her, she was doomed to disappointment. Usually, Jack preferred bars that were a little less crowded than Slim's, but it was Buddy Calhoun's last night in town, and Buddy had talked him into coming to the bar. At the moment Buddy was taking his chances with one of the bulls in the back room. Personally, Jack didn't understand the appeal of getting thrown from a machine into a bunch of thick pads on the floor. He'd always figured that if you wanted to ride a bull, you should climb up onto a real one and take your chances.

I swear, I about died. You would have laughed your behind off, if you'd been there," Gina said.

Jack, having missed the joke, smiled. "You're probably right."

"What's Buddy doing in town?" Gina asked.

"He's here on business." He settled his weight on one foot, one hip slightly higher than the other, and his gaze returned to Daisy and Tucker Gooch on the dance floor. The smooth glide of theft steps kept perfect time to Toby's song about a sugar daddy and his young thing. Jack had always disliked Tucker. Tucker was the kind of guy who bragged about how often he had sex and who he was getting it from. As far as Jack was concerned, a guy who was getting plenty didn't have to talk about it.

"Working for you?"

"Yep." From Jack's position across the bar, all he could really see of Daisy was a flash of her shiny hair and a glimpse of that white dress of hers. He didn't need to have a front-row seat to know what she was wearing, the picture of her walking through the door of Slim's in that dress was imbedded in his brain.

A cowboy in a ten-gallon hat moved in his line of vision, and he couldn't see anything at all.

"Damn," Buddy said as he came to stand beside Jack, "I almost lasted two minutes that last time, but I came down on my left nut and couldn't get upright for a few."

"Were you up on Twister?" Gina wanted to know. "Twister set on high is a real wild ride."

"It was the one closest to the door." Buddy took a drink of his beer then said, "You should give it a go, Jack."

Buddy was, a real nice guy, but sometimes Jack wondered if he wasn't a couple sandwiches shy of a picnic. "As a general rule, I avoid anything that's gonna smash my left nut."

"Yeah." He shook his head and looked out over the crowd.

Gina laughed. "I'm going in the back. Are you going to be here for a while?" she asked Jack.