Think Before You Speak (13 page)

I’d never set goals toward a life of
dissipation involving libation inebriation, lascivious lying down,
and other assorted attributes. Yet, here I was. Or am. Or used to
be. Watching.

Baby got me thinking about Zeke’s comment the
other night – or was that just this morning? What were my career
aspirations? Where was my life headed? Was I destined to be like
Rochelle, in my thirties and stuck in a position just to make ends
meet?

‘Course unlike Rochelle there’d be no kids in
my picture. I’d never considered myself the type to settle down and
raise a herd of crumb-crunchers. Me a soccer mom?

Okay, you can stop laughing now.

Baby pranced over to the bar to the rhythm of
the band, swishing her crinoline baby-doll skirt and settling the
tray of empty glasses on the counter with a thud and clatter. “Hey,
Vicki. I need another round for table seven.”

“From the tap?” I asked.

“Yep. That’ll work.”

Her too-bright, blue eyes said she’d been
enjoying plenty of sips and slurps like I usually did – ‘cept I got
mine from behind the bar while she tickled it out of patrons
playing drinking games.

A cry from the guys crowding the
aforementioned table with several lifted hands, then Baby added to
the order. “Oh yeah, and throw in a baker’s dozen shots of
Jack.”

Whiskey mixed with beer. Yeah, her
bottle-blond little head was gonna sport a headache like a
jackhammer splitting concrete come morning – that is, if she didn’t
barf first.

“You sure about that, Baby?”

She grinned with a flip of her hair. “I’m
gonna show these guys the meaning of the phrase
hold your
liquor
before the night is through.”

“Should I start a pot of coffee now instead
of later?” I asked as I filled the order.

“Nah. I’ve already confiscated everyone’s
keys.”

“I’m talking about you. If you keep this up,
one of us will need to drive your passed-out carcass home and put
you to bed.”

“I’ll be fine.” She winked. “After all, I
learned from the best.”

“Sure,” I called after her as Baby balanced
two trays brimming with alcohol and made the return trip to the
raucous table.

Rochelle came up with an empty tray and stood
beside me, watching the swarm that swallowed Baby’s diminutive
frame. “Every day that girl reminds me more and more of you.”

“I’m not sure I want to take responsibility
for this one.”

“Well someone had to pick up where you’ve
left off.”

“What’s that mean?”

“Well,” Rochelle started with hesitation
before continuing. “Ever since this awkward phase…or whatever you
want to call it…has developed between you and the boss, you’ve
rather, how shall I put it, mellowed.”

“Me? Mellow?” I asked. “Them thar’s fighting
words.”

Rochelle laughed. “I’m not saying you’ve lost
yourself completely, but you
have
mellowed. You’re not
drinking as much as you used to.”

A cry rose from the venue of the drinking
game as Baby launched up onto the tabletop, tossed back a shot of
Jack, and started quivering her hips to the band’s beat.

“You’re not dancing on top of the bar,”
Rochelle continued. “Going home with a different guy every
night...”

“Every night?” I interrupted. “It wasn’t
every
night.”

“Okay, every
week
then.”

I gave her my best evil eye.

She just shook her head with a chuckle.
“Point is, you’ve changed lately…and that’s not necessarily a bad
thing.”

“Maybe it has something to do with almost
standing at the pearly gates before my time,” I muttered.

Rochelle nodded. “That’s possible. Or might
it have something to do with a certain hot Aussie gentleman we’ve
all come to know?”

I nervously glanced around the room to make
sure Nick wasn’t walking through the crowd before shooting her a
scowl. “Don’t even say it.”

“Stranger things have happened when love gets
involved.”

“Lust, Rochelle,” I said, tossing last dregs
into the sink before loading glasses in the dishwasher. “There’s a
difference.”

“And you know this how?” she asked, leaning
forward to look me in the eye.

“That’s it.” I grabbed a shot glass and
poured three fingers before adding another for good measure and
tossed it down like a warm embrace. I shivered. “Sorry, Rochelle,
but with talk like that, it’s time for me to get shit-faced.”

While filling orders, I proceeded to do just
that for the remainder of the night. All this talk of change,
coupled with my own contemplation of Zeke’s words, had the
avoidance radar tilting toward the end zone – er, red zone. By the
end of the evening, both Baby and I were on top of the bar playing
my favorite old game of
Guess the Color of that Thong
.

‘Cept this time, the number of bets placed
and hands groping my legs seemed less of a turn-on and more of a
freak-show. What had at one time left me with a sense of euphoria –
and an all-night squeeze – now left me feeling jaded and a bit
hollow.

Rochelle was wrong about the connection I had
with Nick. Our trip together proved that beyond all reasonable
doubt. Even through my whiskey-sloshed brain, I knew what Nick and
I had was lust – pure and simple.

Well, maybe not the
pure
part. The
fact that I’d barely tolerated Nick’s presence when we weren’t
doing the deed spoke such truth in volumes. There was also the fact
I’d feigned sleep most of the way home from San Antonio. Me in
love? With Nick? That was an easy
hell no
.

But Rochelle was right about one thing –
something had changed, and it wasn’t just my attitude toward the
boss. Or Nick. I wasn’t so sure how to feel about the realization,
so I did what any psychosomatic gal would do.

Ignored it. Or covered it up by swimming in
alcohol. And this time, I didn’t have someone to take me home and
tuck me in – or sex my brains out so I didn’t have to think such
thoughts.

Uh-oh. Time to find a new and willing
victim.

***

The hangover headache was the first thing to
stab my conscience – I mean, my consciousness – as morning broke
the haze of last night’s drunken spree. Since it had been a few
weeks since I’d responded to Jack Daniel’s call, the after effects
were magnified ten-fold. My head felt as if Baby had done a tap
dance number inside my skull instead of on top of the bar.

Bad Vicki.

The second thing to register was the scent of
brewing coffee and the clink of kitchen utensils. I cracked an
eyelid to discover I was safely ensconced in my own bedroom. The
drapes were pulled to shut out the worst of the daytime sunlight.
How thoughtful of…

I wracked my whacked brain, trying to
remember if Nick had showed up at some point in the evening, but
apparently all of my wires were a little crossed. Or a lot. Had I
taken Rochelle’s challenge too far and ended up dragging some other
poor soul home like a stray kitten? How had I even gotten home last
night? Was my car intact? Worry over the Vette rolled my sorry
carcass from the mattress, and I staggered into the too-bright
living room.

It took a moment for everything to come into
focus, including the male figure stirring eggs over my brand new
stove. Something about the backside seemed familiar. As I stumbled
into the couch and stubbed my toe, he turned around with a lopsided
grin tilting the edge of his mustache.

“Mornin’, Vic,” my companion said in that
familiar drawl.

Flies could’ve camped in my mouth as my jaw
practically bounced off the floor before my grating vocal chords
took over.

“Grady?”

I collapsed onto the nearby sofa and buried
my pounding head into a pillow with a groan. “No, no, no. This
can’t be happening.”

The scent of scrambled eggs joined the coffee
and sent my stomach into a swoon – and I’m not talking the good
kind. Oh, I was so going to Hell for this one. Sleeping with the
boss? After fighting it all this time? Wasn’t like things between
Grady and me weren’t already awkward – and now I’d slept with him?
After years of an all-out, avoid at all costs, no matter how
tempting refusal to get involved, I’d failed.

Truth be told, I’d spent many an evening
simply imaging what he’d be like between the sheets. It sucked that
now we’d crossed that line, I couldn’t even remember the
experience. Not fair. Not fair at all.

Grady lifted my sprawled legs and sat down on
the couch with me. “Relax, Vic. Before you let your thoughts take
you too far along the wrong path, you might want to open your eyes
and see what you’re wearing.”

I took his advice. A quick peek between eye
slits revealed the too-tight blouse and skirt I’d worn the night
before. A further glance and I noticed Grady wore the red chambray
button-up and jeans from last night’s shift.

“We didn’t do it?” I asked.

“Nope,” Grady said around a bite of eggs.
“And try not to look so relieved either. You might offend my
manhood.”

“None intended,” I muttered and leaned up to
accept the offered steaming cup. A long sip then I sighed. “Ah,
just what the doctor ordered. Irish coffee.”

“Figured you could use it after last night’s
show. Just drink it slow.”

The Texas-sized portion of eggs and salsa
sitting on my coffee table made me shudder, so I nibbled the piece
of dry toast instead and washed it down with another stiff sip from
my mug.

“Please tell me my Vette is okay,” I
mumbled.

“Safely locked in your garage,” Grady
responded. “You were in no condition to drive home last night.”

“Then what did you do with your truck?”

“It’s at the bar.”

“Was that safe?”

“Safer than leaving your little hot rod there
all night. Besides, no one would touch my truck.”

The image of Banker Boy with those rather
nefarious-looking characters popped into my addled mind. “You sure
about that?”

“Why do you think I’ve got all that
security?”

“For fun?”

Both sides of his mustache tilted this time
as Grady smirked. “If someone even succeeded in getting inside my
vehicle, they wouldn’t get far.”

“But they could sure do some damage if they
wanted.”

“That’s where my public persona comes in
handy. If that wouldn’t deter some idiot, then my buddies at the
ATF would have a little to say about it. Then again, there’s always
Ranger Taylor.”

“Don’t remind me,” I murmured into my cup,
trying to dislodge the memory of our recent encounter. Wasn’t
thinking about what Zeke had said about my life – or lack of career
aspirations – what had set me up on last night’s binge?

“You two on the outs again?” Grady asked. “I
thought things were looking up between you.”

“Things will never be more than friends
between me and Zeke ever again.” And in my book,
friends
was
still up for debate. “Once a cheater, always a cheater.”

Grady took a long sip of coffee then headed
toward the kitchen for a refill. “Things aren’t always what they
seem, Vic.”

I grunted. “Tell me about it. I never in a
million years would’ve guessed you were an undercover Fed.”

He paused in mid-pour. “You say that like
it’s a bad thing.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful you were
there to save me from a concrete kiss,” I acknowledged. “But
knowing you’re a Fed and working with my ex-boyfriend sometimes
feels…I don’t know…weird?”

Grady sauntered over, taking a sample sip and
watching over the rim before sitting down again. “So are we finally
going to talk about the elephant in the room now?”

“Which one?” I groaned.

“Fair point,” Grady offered. “How about we
start with my being a Fed?”

“I haven’t said a word to anyone,” I said,
crossing my heart and dotting my I’s…or is that crossing my T’s and
dotting my eyes? I really needed my brain at full capacity in order
to have this conversation. “I swear.”

“You’ve already demonstrated that. But
everyone at the bar seems to have taken a peculiar interest in how
you’ve been acting lately.”

“Yeah, and Rochelle thinks we slept
together.”

“And Wanker,” Grady mentioned. “I’m sure Baby
does too.”

I sat up a little straighter. “You do realize
your taking me home last night only adds fuel to the rumor mill
inferno.”

“Maybe the fact I asked Wanker to escort Baby
home will temper the talk.”

“Fat chance,” I muttered. “They’re further
apart in age than we are.”

Grady chuckled. “The age difference just
gives people more to talk about.”

“Ain’t that the truth.” I sighed and rubbed
my forehead as if I could scrub away each and every thought, worry,
and – well, headache. “I hate being the subject of rumor. Got
enough of that from the Born-Again Brigade.”

“Then tell them nothing happened,” the boss
offered with a shrug. “Rochelle will believe you, and if she
believes you then the others will soon follow suit.”

I shook my head. “She already suspected
something was going on between us
before
last night.”

“Tell her you’re keeping a secret I told
you.”

I shot him a grimace and offered up a brow
for good measure – then regretted even the tiniest move. “Not like
I already
am
keeping your secret or anything.”

“True.”

“And if she wants to know more?”

“Tell her I’ve got a case of crabs or
something,” Grady said with a grin before popping the coffee mug up
for a sip. I think it was more to cover a chuckle.

“Sure,” I drawled. “That will keep the rumor
mill from turning.”

“She’ll believe whatever you tell her ‘cause
it’s coming from a friend, right? Case closed.” Grady laughed and
patted my leg. “You gotta trust people sometimes.”

“I was cured of that years ago.”