If the Boot Fits by Harper Crowley

Author:Harper Crowley [Crowley, Harper]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harper Crowley
Published: 2019-06-16T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 14

The next evening, we head back to Tombstone. “I can’t believe you guys spent an entire day on the website,” I gripe. “I was so bored.”

“Well, maybe if you’d help once in a while instead of drooling over some cowboy, it’d go faster,” Jess says, dryly.

My fingers tighten on the steering wheel. From the corner of my eye, I glance at Russ. His lips twitch.

When he notices me watching him, he says, “Hey, don’t put me into the middle of this. This is what happens when you have two active investigations at once and only one vehicle. Too bad you couldn’t go on another romantic horseback ride, eh?”

If it was possible for my cheeks to get any redder, they would burst into flames. “You know what? Just shut up.”

“Uh huh,” he says, his eyes full of mirth. “Do you want me to pick up some wine next time? Maybe you and Beau can really enjoy checking out the scene.”

I slam on the brakes and pull the van over. “Oh my God. I hate you both so much right now. Seriously, knock it off.” I mean I’m glad Russ seems to be in a better mood, but crap. This is why I don’t have a personal life.

Jess pokes her head between the seats. “One more question, mostly because Russ is too chicken to ask, and I know you won’t kick me out. Is Beau a good kisser?”

“Son of a bitch.” I groan, sinking my forehead into the steering wheel. “You know we haven’t kissed. God. It’s not even any of your business. One more word, and I’ll ship both of your asses back to Michigan.”

Jess chortles and disappears into the back seat. “No, you won’t.” She pokes her hand through the seats. “Pay up. You owe me five bucks.”

With a grumble, he hands over the cash.

“What’d you bet?”

“I told Russ you kissed Beau, but he didn’t think so,” she says smugly.

“But I didn’t!”

“Uh huh, sure. Of course you’d say that.” With a chuckle, she pockets the money.

I crank up the radio to some country station that’s a blend of English and Spanish and sing, loud and off-key, all the rest of the way into Tombstone.

Even though it’s relatively late in the day on a Friday, the streets are still bustling with activity. Mostly tourists, but a few costumed actors stroll down the streets and wait on the corners to answer questions from the general populace. Several people cluster around the Last Chance Saloon, both in costume and out. I wonder if the people who actually live in Tombstone come down here and what they think of all this theater. I guess if they didn’t like it, they could move.

Loud music from the same station we were listening to in the van blares from an old silver radio behind the bar. Clusters of people laugh raucously around tables and booths, drowning out the music as the party crescendos. Annette balances a couple tall glasses of beer on a tray as she weaves through tables to reach a couple of rowdy patrons.

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