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, andhis gaze returned to Daisy and Tucker Gooch on the dance floor. The smooth glide of theft steps kept perfecttime to Toby's song about a sugar daddy and his young thing. Jack had always disliked Tucker. Tucker was thekind of guy who bragged about how often he had sex and who he was getting it from. As far as Jack wasconcerned, 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 aglimpse of that white dress of hers. He didn't need to have a front-row seat to know what she was wearing, thepicture 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 camedown 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. "Asa 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.
"I'm not sure."
She placed a hand on the front of his denim shirt and raised up onto her toes. "Well, don't leave without sayinggoodbye," she said against his mouth. She kissed him, her lips lingering just long enough to let him know shewas interested in leaving with hint "Don't forget."
"Are you and Gina seeing each other?" Buddy asked as she walked away.
"Sometimes." Jack didn't know if he was all that interested in having her leave with him. Two weekends in arow tended to give her ideas.
"Look who's sitting at that table over there all by her lonesome, Lily Brooks. I thought about giving her a callyesterday, but I don't know her married name."
Jack glanced at Daisy's sister sitting by herself. "Why would you give Lily a call?"
"To see how she was doing, after that fight at the Minute Mart, and all. I figure, since she's going through adivorce, she might need someone to talk to."
Jack raised the Pearl to his lips, "You want to talk to Lily Brooks about her divorce?" Right.
Buddy grinned. "Those Brooks girls are nice looking and built too."
Jack took a long drink then sucked a drop of beer from his top lip. Buddy would get no argument from him. Ifhe hadn't already seen for himself that Daisy was as hot as ever, that outfit she was wearing tonight would havesettled the issue. Even from across the bar, he could see that her dress was so tight, it looked like she'd taken aspray gun and painted herself.
Buddy set his beer on the bar. "I'm going to ask Lily to dance before someone beats me to it."
Jack watched him weave his way through the crowd and wondered if life wouldn't be easier if he could be morelike Buddy Calhoun. Nothing seemed to bother him much, not even racking himself on a mechanical bull.
Maybe there'd been a time when Jack had been like that, more laid-back, but it had been so long ago, he'dforgotten.
He took his hand from his pocket, and his gaze slid to the dance floor and the flash of white. Asrnile lifted thecorners of his mouth; and he wondered how Lily and Daisy felt today about their public brawl in front of theMinute Mart. Jack had seen women fight each other, but he'd never seen a woman take on a man. Especially aman that had to outweight her by a good hundred or so pounds.
Jack turned and placed his forearms on the bar.
The morning of the fight, he'd just been standing there at the Minute Mart, minding his own business, leaningagainst his Mustang while it filled with fuel, when he heard yelling. He'd glanced across the parking lot andrecognized Lily. She was swearing like a truck driver, and when the man she was yelling at shoved her, Jackheaded in her direction. About halfway there, the store's door flew open and Daisy charged Ronnie like adefensive linebacker, ramming him with her shoulder. She was a streak of black T-shirt and blond hair, and asJack picked up his pace toward her, she curled up her fist, socked Ronnie in the eye, then kneed him.
Jack grabbed her from behind to keep her from getting hurt, but he hadn't expected the confusing mix of angerand protectiveness that had slammed into his chest. Growing up, Daisy had been a walking contradiction, bothafraid and fierce at the same time. And just as he had while growing up, he'd wanted to shake her and hold her,to yell at her even as he wanted to smooth her hair.
But he had held her, he reminded himself. He'd held her with her back pressed to him, her butt smashed againstthe front of his fly. He'd touched her and he'd smelled her hair and the scent of her skin.
He raised his gaze past the beer spigots to the animated Budweiser sign. Red neon tubes outlined DaleEamhardt Jr.'s NASCAR. The tires spun on the legendary number eight, as if junior was doing one-eighty onthe straightaways at the Texas Motor Speedway.
Daisy had been gone fifteen years, but one thing had not changed over all that time. No matter how much hehated to admit it, he wanted her. Still. Now. After all this time. After everything she'd done.
It didn't make sense, but he couldn't deny the proof. Just a glimpse of her in that dress tightened his scrotum andgave him a semi, right there in Slim Clem's. He wanted her with the same mindless craving he'd had when he'dbeen eighteen. A hot ache that remembered the taste of her mouth and wanted to get reacquainted with the softcurves of her body. But he was no longer eighteen. He had more control, and getting hard didn't mean he had todo a damn thing about it.
Nope, he was going to stand right there and watch the Bud sign behind the bar. That was all. He was going tofinish his beer then go home. If Buddy didn't want to leave, he could catch a ride with someone else.
As the band struck up Kenny Chesney's "No Problem," Buddy and Lily joined Jack at the bar. Just as he turnedto tell Buddy he was leaving in a few, his gaze landed on Daisy and Tucker walking toward him. The closer shegot, the more he wished she'd just stayed the hell across the room. She wore some sort of dark smudged stuffaround her eyes, her lips were a dark red, and her hair was big and curled and wild, like she'd just got laid. Shelooked a little smutty, which normally was his favorite, but not tonight. Not on her.
"Hey there, Jack." Tucker offered his hand. "How's it goin'?"
Jack shook it, then raised his beer to his mouth. "I can't really complain," he said just before he took a drink.
"How's your hand?" he asked Daisy.
She made a slow fist. "It's better than it was yesterday," she said.
"I heard about you and Lily getting into a fight with Ronnie Darlington and Kelly Newman," Tucker told her.
"Ronnie's a rat bastard and Kelly's a skank," Lily said.
"Where did you hear about it?" Daisy wanted to know.
"Fuzzy Wallace was driving by on Vine and saw you two."
Daisy closed her eyes and swore.
Jack's gaze slid from her face, and he got a good look at that white dress. He could see the outline of her bra,and she must have been tan all over, because he could see the straps and the smooth edges cupping her breastsand pushing them up. His gaze slid over the little row of snaps closing the dress over herbreasts, down her flat abdomen to the belt around her waist and that big silver buckle suspended right above hergoodie box. The bottom of her dress hit her just about mid thighs, and when he glanced at her feet, he aboutchoked. She was wearing red boots with white hearts. He remembered those boots. She used to wear them allthe time. There'd been several times when he'd made love to her while she'd been wearing those boots. Usuallywhen she wore a skirt, or a dress like she was wearing tonight, he'd just slip her panties off and not bother withthe boots.