ToughGuy.PDF by Elemental Alchemy

Author:Elemental Alchemy [Alchemy, Elemental]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2012-07-01T23:26:02+00:00

* * *

The Silver Dollar was slow for a Friday night. Fine by me. I hadn’t come here for the party; I came here because it was closest.

Hank hadn’t just crawled into my truck. No. He’d crawled in, scooted closer, and suggested we go necking. What the fuck? Any excuse to put distance between us was my agenda.

I took a seat at the bar, forcing Hank to sit at the bar also. A private table seemed a bit too…private tonight.

“Two.” I got the tender’s attention, then looked to Hank.

“Bud Light, hold the glasses,” he said, and the bartender served us.

Hank cracked open his bottle first; I followed suit, taking a long swig, relishing the cool burn, relishing the low music…the few moments of peace.

“So,” he began.

I took another long drink, hoping to stretch the calm a bit further.

“You’re quite the talk about town.” He finished his sentence and his beer in a single breath. “Two more.” He flagged over the 36

TOUGH GUY

bartender.

Was I? I killed my beer and took another Hank offered.

Whatever had possessed me to get with him in the first place? As I drank my beer, my eyes drank in Hank. After just a couple sips, I knew I’d had enough of both. “You really don’t get it, do you?”

His lips smiled, but his forehead creased as he met my gaze. He lowered his beer, shook his head slowly. “No. I don’t.”

I closed my eyes and held my breath to hide my frustration when he touched my hand. Obvious even to me, I failed to do so; he let go, immediately.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were jealous—jealous of me.”

He stared, kinda bug-eyed for a minute. With a chuckle, he killed beer number two. “I think you got a point there.”

A couple cowboys in the far corner looked in my direction as I scanned the sparsely populated tables.

Hank nearly had finished his third beer before he spoke again.

“What’s up with that Tony Austin?”

I choked beer out my nose. He smacked me between the shoulder blades, and I coughed. Pinching my nose, I motioned him away with a wave of my hand. I needed to breathe, not be smothered. What in the hell had he meant, asking about Austin?

Did Hank know—about Friday night? Had he followed me? My mind a whirl of thoughts, my nose and throat burning, I stood, excused myself, and headed for the men’s room.

When three splashes of cold water didn’t revive me from my stupor, I figured dunking my entire head under that cool tap might do the trick. But before I could find a hook to hang my hat, in walked a cowboy and headed straight for the urinals. Took me all of a minute to register the stance, the bull-hide leather, and I was 37

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raring to go, to get the hell out of the bathroom before Tony Austin recognized me.

“Don’t open that door,” he said, his back still to me.

I hesitated, my hand on the handle. Lord help me, what on God’s green earth was I thinking? I should walk away.

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