"I imagine."
"Don't tell me you'd rather watch naked women than a game of T-ball?"
Jack's grin matched his brother's. "Yeah, it was a tough choice to make. Watch women take their clothes off orfive-year-olds run around bases with their helmets on backward."
Billy laughed, in that special way he always had of tipping his head back and letting loose with a few heh-heh-hehs. It sounded so much like their father, Ray, Jack figured it had to he genetic. "Lucky bastard," Billy said,but without much heart. They both knew that Billy would rather watch Amy Lynn run around with her helmeton backward. "If you need someone to drive you home from The Road Kill," Billy added on his way to thedoor, "call me."
"Of course." A drunk driver had taken their parent's lives when Jack had been all of eighteen. The brothersmade it a point to never drive drunk.
Jack worked for another hour before he turned off his computer and headed out of the garage through the bays.
Everyone else had already left for the day, and his bootheels echoed in the silence. He locked the door and setthe alarm, then he jumped into his Shelby Mustang. It started to rain as he drove toward the outskirts of Lovett.
A light sprinkle of drops mixed with the dust and wind, and turned the car's shiny black paint a dull gray.
The Road Kill was a lot like other bars strewn throughout the Texas panhandle. Country music poured from thejuke while the patrons drained the beer spigots of Lone Star. A big red-white-and-blue DON'T MESS WITHTEXAS sign hung on the mirror behind the bar, while old road signs, stuffed armadillos and rattlers decoratedthe walls. The owner of the bar was also a taxidermist, and if a patron was so inclined, or was drunk enough, heor she could purchase a rattler belt or an ultra-attractive armadillo handbag at cut-rate prices.
When Jack walked into the bar, he pushed up the brim of his Stetson and paused in the doorway long enough toallow his eyes to adjust before he made his way to the bar. He exchanged a few heys with some of the regulars.
Over Clint Black on the jukebox, he could hear the sound of Jimmy's bachelor party going full tilt in the backroom.
"Bottle of Lone Star," he ordered. A bottle appeared on the bar and he handed over a five. He felt a soft hand onhis arm and looked across his shoulder into the face of Gina Brown.
"Hey there, Jack."
"Hey, Gina." Gina was the same age as Jack and twice divorced. She was a tall, lean cowgirl who liked ridingthe mechanical bull at Slim Clem's over off Highway Seventy. She wore her Wranglers tight, her Justinsstacked, and her hair dyed red. Jack knew she dyed her hair because she liked riding him too. But lately she'dhinted that she had him in mind for husband number three. He'd had to cool things down so she would get thatidea right out of her head.
"You here for the bachelor party in the back?" She gazed up at him out of the corners of her blue eyes. Hewould have to be blind to miss the invitation curving her lips.
"Yep." Jack raised the bottle to his mouth and took a long drink. He had no interest in heating things back up.
He liked Gina, but he wasn't husband material. He grabbed his change from the bar and shoved it in the frontpocket of his jeans. "See ya around," he said and turned to walk away.
Gina's next question stopped him in his tracks. "Have you seen Daisy Lee yet?"
Jack lowered the bottle and suddenly had trouble swallowing the beer in his mouth. He turned back to faceGina.
"I saw her this morning at the Texaco. Pumping gas into her momma's Cadillac." Gina shook her head. "I thinkit's been what, about ten or twelve years since she was last in town?"
It had been fifteen.
"I recognized her right away. Daisy Lee Brooks hasn't changed that much."
Except that Daisy Brooks was now Daisy Monroe and had been for the past fifteen years. And that had changedeverything.
Gina took a step closer and played with a button on the front of his shirt. "I was sorry to hear aboutSteven. I know he was your friend."
He and Steven Monroe had been almost inseparable since the age of five when they'd sat next to each other atthe Lovett Baptist Church, belting out "Yes, Jesus Loves Me." But that had changed too. The last time he'd seenSteven was the night the two of them had beat each other bloody, while Daisy looked on horrified. It was thelast time he'd seen Daisy too.
As if she didn't notice that Jack wasn't keeping up his end of the conversation, Gina rattled on, "I can't imaginedying at our age. It's just horrible."
"Excuse me, Gina," he said and walked away. An old anger, one he'd thought he'd buried, threatened to pull himinto the past. He pushed against it, tapped it down tight, and shut it out.
Then he felt nothing at all.
With his beer in his hand, he wove his way through the rapidly filling bar and moved to the crowded room inthe hack. He leaned a shoulder into the doorframe and turned his full attention to Jimmy Calhoun. The man ofhonor sat in a chair in the middle of the room, surrounded by a dozen or so men, all watching two womendressed like rodeo queens bumping and grinding against each other while the Dixie Chicks sang about a sinwagon. Already stripped down to sparkly G-strings on the bottom, the girls popped the snaps to their silkyblouses. In unison their shirts slid down their toned shoulders and perfect bodies, exposing big breasts crammedinto tiny sequined bikini tops. Jack lowered his gaze from their full breasts to their G-strings tied at their hips.
Marvin Ferrell paused in the doorway beside him to watch the show. "Do you think those breasts are real?" heasked.
Jack shrugged a shoulder and raised the beer to his mouth. Obviously Marvin had been married too longbecause he was starting to sound like a woman. "Who cares?"
"True." Marvin laughed. "Did you hear Daisy Brooks is back?"
He looked down the bottle at Marvin then lowered it. "Yeah, I heard." Again he felt the old anger, and again hetapped it down until he felt nothing. He returned his attention to the strippers and watched them sandwichJimmy between their half-naked bodies while they kissed each other above his head. The wet, open-mouthedtongue-thrusting kisses had the guys hollering for more. Jack tipped his head to one side and smiled. This wasgetting good.
"I saw Daisy at the Minute Mart," Marvin continued. "Damn, she's still hot as she was in high school."
Jack's smile flat-lined as an unbidden memory of big brown eyes and soft pink lips threatened to drag him intothe black hole of his past.
"Remember what she looked like in that little cheerleader outfit of hers?"
Jack pushed away from the door and moved farther into the room, but he couldn't escape. It seemed everyonewanted a trip down memory lane. Everyone but him.
While the strippers took off each other's tiny bikini tops, the topic of conversation was Daisy. Between whistlesand catcalls, Cal Turner, Lester Crandall and Eddy Dean Jones all asked if he'd seen her yet.
Disgusted, Jack left the room and made his way back to the bar. It was a hell of a deal when a man wasn'tallowed to enjoy two mostly naked women making out with each other six feet in front of hint He didn't knowhow long Daisy would be in town, but he hoped like hell it was a short trip. Then maybe people would havesomething better to talk about. Mostly he hoped she had the good sense to stay the hell out of his way.
He set his bottle on the bar and made his way back out of The Road Kill, leaving behind talk and speculation ofDaisy Monroe. Rain pelted the top of his hat and wet his shoulders as he made his way across the parking lot.
But with each step he took, the memories followed close behind. Memories of looking into a pair of beautifulbrown eyes as he kissed soft lips. His hand sliding up the back of her smooth thigh, slipping beneath her blueand gold cheerleader skirt. Of Daisy Lee wearing a pair of red cowboy boots with white hearts on the sides, andnothing else.
"Leaving the party so soon?" Gina asked as she walked toward him.
He looked over at her. "Boring party."