Blame It On Babies. Kristine Rolofson

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СКАЧАТЬ it off, ma’am. In my truck.” He pointed to where he hoped his truck was parked. “Somewhere over there.”

      “Can you find your truck?”

      He didn’t want to lie to the woman, but then again, a man had his pride. “Yep. No problem.”

      “Lorna! You wanna stop flirtin’ with drunks and start countin’ my damn forks like I’m paying you to do?” A short bald guy, built like an Angus bull, came roaring up to the waitress and stopped just short of crashing into her. Jess wasn’t so far gone that he didn’t see the man’s gaze drop to the little lady’s chest.

      “Who you calling a drunk?” Jess straightened to his full height, which he knew was damn impressive, even in Texas, and glared at the screaming lecher.

      “Never mind,” the waitress said, and she handed the man the forks. “Here. That’s all I found, Tom. And now I’m going home.”

      “Not so fast, missy,” the man said, shaking the forks at her. “We’re not done here.”

      The woman put her hands on her hips. “I’ve been either basting, chopping, grilling, serving, carrying, cleaning, washing or going through garbage since nine this morning. The place is cleaned up, the day is over and I want my money and I want to go home and go to bed. Now.”

      Jess stared at her. He’d missed a few of the words, but he got the general idea. The little lady was tired.

      “Bed?” Texas Tom grinned at her, but it wasn’t a real nice expression. “I’ll tuck you in, Lorna, if that’s what you want.”

      “I want today’s pay. Eight dollars an hour, plus tips.” She wasn’t about to back down, something that didn’t surprise Jess. When a woman put her hands on her hips like that and started talking, it meant a man better listen. Or run for his life.

      Tom glanced at Jess and took his life in his hands. “Get lost, cowboy. Lorna and me have business to take care of.”

      “Nope. I’m staying right here.” Jess wished he hadn’t had that last glass of Jack Daniels. “I think you’d better give the lady what she wants.”

      “You do, huh?” Tom reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a thick wad of bills. He counted out several and handed them to the waitress. “Hundred bucks plus fifty for the tip. Happy now?”

      “Yes.” The money disappeared into her apron pocket and her shoulders sagged with relief. “Good night,” she said to Jess, and took a step backward.

      “’Night,” Jess answered, realizing he couldn’t put off the search for his truck any longer. Besides, he was starting to get hungry. If he couldn’t find his truck maybe he could find the café and get some sustenance. He’d moved out of the circle of light when he heard Texas Tom’s voice again.

      “Not so fast, babe,” the BBQ King said, stepping closer. He lowered his voice, but Jess had hearing like a fox. “There’s more where that came from, if you know what I mean. A woman like you could play her cards right and wake up with some money on her pillow.”

      “Oh, for heaven’s sake,” the lady sputtered, then Jess heard a gasp. “Stop that!”

      He was on Texas Tom in two seconds flat, plucked him by the back of his collar and held him away from the waitress, who looked like she wouldn’t mind a piece of him herself.

      “The lady said no,” Jess drawled. “So I think it’s time for you to get into the truck and get out of here, Tom.”

      Tom kept talking, and nothing was flattering to either Jess or the waitress, so Jess finally got tired of the noise and flung the man into the garbage bags, where he lay gasping for breath and more than a little stunned.

      “Thanks.” The waitress smiled at him again, and Jess wobbled a little on his size thirteen feet.

      “No problem, ma’am.” He wished he hadn’t lost his hat. He would have held it in his hands and begged her to keep smiling at him. “You need an escort home?”

      “I’ll be fine,” she assured him, after looking over at Tom, who was struggling to get on his feet. “He’ll leave me alone now and I have the money he owed me.”

      “I could walk you home,” Jess offered, hoping she lived somewhere in the direction of his truck. Or that he would see the truck on the way.

      “Thank you, but—”

      Jess barely knew what hit him. But in the moment before he blacked out he realized Texas Tom was the revengeful type.

      LORNA SAT in the grass beside the man of her dreams and thought a little bit more about luck. Was this good luck or bad luck? She’d had a crush on Jess Sheridan since she was thirteen and now, years later, she was spending the evening with him. Just because he was snoring and unconscious didn’t discount the fact that they were together at last.

      Here she’d always hoped he’d notice her, and when he did he thought she was digging for food from the garbage. It wasn’t what she’d call good luck, but she’d enjoyed talking to him, even if he’d had too much to drink and acted a little silly and wouldn’t remember her in the morning.

      She liked looking at him. Lorna peered into his face, which had always been handsome. His dark hair was a little too short, but it waved nicely on his forehead. He had a large nose that fit his face, and lips that were neither too thin or too plump. His skin was tanned, as if he spent a lot of time outside, and she loved his chin. There was a faint dimple there; she could see its shadow from the corner streetlight and she’d touched it with her index finger just to make sure. His skin was smooth underneath her fingertip; he must have shaved right before the wedding.

      He didn’t look as if he was in pain. Or dead. He looked peaceful, like he was taking a nap. His breathing was even and sometimes noisy. There’d been no blood. She’d thought about going for help, but that would mean leaving her rescuer alone near the pile of garbage. Which didn’t seem at all like the right thing to do.

      Texas Tom had left in a hurry, especially after she threatened to call the police. Lorna thought it was her screaming that made Tom run to his truck, with the oversize metal tongs he’d used to hit Jess in the back of the head still in his hand. She’d screamed loud enough to wake the dead, but oddly nobody in Beauville came to her rescue. It was Saturday night and she could hear the music blasting from one of the bars around the corner. The beer tent was still standing, but it looked deserted, as if they’d left the cleaning up for tomorrow and gone to party somewhere else tonight.

      Lorna looked back at the man sleeping on the grass. She couldn’t leave him here and he was too big to drag home, even though she didn’t live that far away. She could have gone to the sheriff’s office, but she didn’t want Jess to get into trouble. And she couldn’t sit here all night hoping that someone would come along and help her out. No, she was going to have to deal with the man all by herself.

      “Jess,” she said aloud, inches from that handsome face. “Jess? Jess Sheridan, wake up.” She tried shaking his shoulder, but she was too gentle. She spoke louder and shook harder and managed to get a muttered oath out of him before he went back to sleep. She supposed the amount he had drunk had more to do with his condition than the blow dealt by a pair of barbecue tongs, but she still felt responsible for his predicament. He’d tried to give her money. How sweet was that?

      So СКАЧАТЬ