My names Brandi Malone.
I guessed that. Saw it on the board out front. He backed a few steps to the door. It was nice to meet you, Miss Malone. Maybe Ill come hear you sing sometime.
Do that, she said, noticing neither bothered with goodbye.
After he disappeared, she decided that the sheriff was shy. Shed embarrassed him by insinuating that he was trying to flirt, or maybe he felt like hed dumped too much information on a total stranger.
She dug through her pile of clothes and pulled on her leather jacket with fringe. It wasnt warm enough for todays weather, but she didnt have time to find another coat.
Five minutes later she stepped out of the Nowhere and walked across the street. One car, the sheriffs cruiser, was in the cafés parking lot. The lunch run was long past being over. She wasnt surprised hed kept to his word.
Brandi was shivering when she made it to the table in the back where he sat alone. This place still open? she asked.
He looked up from his cell phone. She caught the surprise in his eyes before he glanced away.
Im buying your lunch, Sheriff. You have a problem with that?
No. He stood and moved his hat off the empty chair. You think you could call me Dan? I dont think of myself as on duty while Im eating.
She slowly slipped into the place across from him and stared at the menu. Most men, including her father, were liars or manipulators. But this one had something about him that said he could be trusted, at least as long as lunch, anyway. All she had to figure out was if Sheriff Dan Brigman was what he seemed. Not that she planned to stay around long, but at least if those honest eyes were true, she might start to believe in people again.
It might be fun to eat a meal with someone for a change. She could pretend to be happy, and interested and normal.
She glanced at the menu for a few seconds more, then ordered the lunch special when the waitress appeared. The girl looked tired, or maybe bored, and wasnt overly concerned with the last two customers in the place.
When the waitress went back through the kitchen door before it stopped swinging from her arrival, Brandi was suddenly aware that she was alone with the sheriff.
You look exactly like the woman I pictured would be wearing that boot, he said, as if trying to start a conversation.
Hows that?
Wild and free. Beautiful. He glanced down, twirling a chip in the tiny bowl of hot sauce.
There was that shy smile again, she thought. Another hint that the sheriff might be one of the real people in this world of marionettes. You dont mind if Im wild, do you? Id think a thing like that might make a sheriff nervous.
Nope. I dont mind. Youre the kind of beautiful that could haunt a mans dreams, Brandi Malone. Being wild just adds spice to perfection.
No one had said such a nice thing to her in years. He seemed to be seeing her as she wanted to be. Wild and free, she almost whispered aloud.
To prove him right, Brandi leaned over and kissed him on the mouth.
When she pulled away she whispered, You taste like salsa, Sheriff.
He just stared, and she swore she could be hypnotized by those steel-blue eyes.
Brandi ate one of his chips dipped in the hot sauce, then took a drink of his iced tea. He just kept watching her. No one had accused her of being wild and free for years, and she loved it. She loved the version of herself she saw in his eyes.
She glanced around the empty café. The lone waitress was probably in the back warming up the last two specials. Arent you going to say something about me kissing you?
He leaned back and spoke so low even if people had been at the next table they wouldnt have heard. I wouldnt mind if you decided to do that again.
Before she could decide, the waitress swung through the kitchen door with two plates of enchiladas.
Maybe later. She grinned like the wild woman he thought she was. If Im still around and youre still available. After all, how much harm could one more kiss do?
As they ate, the sheriff asked her where she was from and how she ended up at the Nowhere Club.
She avoided answering and asked him how long it had been since hed been kissed.
Unlike her, Dan answered directly. Three years ago on New Years Eve.
Brandi nodded. The midnight kiss. Openmouthed or closed?
When he didnt answer, she knew. Closed, she decided. She would have sworn the handsome sheriff was blushing.
Youre right about me, Sheriff. But Im drifting more than free. I live out of a suitcase and travel whenever and wherever I like. Im not looking for a man to tame me or tie me down or tell me he loves me. I make no promises, but if youd like to share a meal or something now and then, I might be interested. Brandi couldnt believe she was stepping out of her comfort zone to even think of getting together with him. But one kiss with him was like one taste of salsa on a salty chip. She wanted another.
Dan took a long drink of his iced tea.
She knew shed shocked him, but if she was going to spend a while with a man for the first time in years, she wanted all the cards on the table. And, she decided, she wanted to be remembered as being someones unforgettable encounter, no matter how brief. Shed like to be the one woman, the one memory that would always make Dan Brigman smile.
He ate, and she picked at her food.
Finally, he broke the silence. What time is your last set over tonight?
Eleven. Why?
Ill pick you up for a late supper.
If you can find a place around here still open, Ill be hungry.
He left a twenty on the table and stood.
I... Shed told him shed pick up the check, and she planned to.
Its not happening, he answered, as if he knew what she was about to say.
She followed, already wondering if shed done the right thing to join him here. She hated bossy men, but then maybe there was some kind of rule that sheriffs cant accept gifts, even a lunch.
Shed been just fine staying away from men. She liked being alone. She hated strings and planned to live the rest of her life without getting attached to anyone. So why had she hinted at another promise? Another meeting? Why had she offered to spend time with him before she knew what kind of man he really was? Maybe honest blue eyes lied? She hadnt been around enough to know.
Brandi mentally slapped herself. She was overthinking this. Just go with it. She was wild, remember.
Maybe it was enough that he had kissable lips and he made her feel young like she had ten years ago when shed first been on the road. Shed been twenty-five then and loving the gypsy life of a singer.
When they stepped out of the restaurant into the little tin windbreaker foyer, the sheriff turned and helped her with her coat. The plastic window in the entryway door looked like it was shivering as wind howled over the cloudy day.
He lifted part of her curly hair, caught under her collar. Before we step out I want to give you something back.
Before she had time to say a word, he pushed her against the rattling, icy tin wall and kissed her full out. Openmouthed.
Her sheriff might be quiet, but he definitely wasnt shy.
Brandi forgot all about being cold. For the first time in longer than she could remember, she felt alive. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back like this one kiss might be the last in her lifetime.
His arms tightened around her. She leaned into him. This wasnt a first-time, hesitant kiss. She could feel him breathing, his heart pounding next to hers. A tiny spark came alive inside her where only dead embers had lain for so long.
When he broke the kiss, he didnt say a word; he just circled his arm around her shoulders and held her tightly as they faced the wind and rushed back across the street.
Just inside the club, the whole world lost all sound. No one around. No music. He held her for a moment as though unable to let her go. Though he hadnt moved, she could feel him pulling away, turning back into the in-control sheriff. His lips pressed against her forehead in a quick peck. Youre unbelievable.
You, too, she whispered, swearing she could see passion sparkle in his blue eyes.
Then, with a very formal nod, he turned and walked away without a word.
Brandi grinned as she watched him climb into his cruiser and thought shed add that Toby Keith song A Little Less Talk and a Lot More Action to her last set tonight. If the sheriff wanted someone wild and free, she could make it happen.
In a few weeks shed drive away from this place. Maybe shed take a memory of her own with her. But that was all she had room to pack.
A memory. Nothing more.
CHAPTER THREE
RAINY NIGHTS IN DALLAS were never as beautiful as they had been when she was a kid growing up at the lake house just outside Crossroads. There, the old cottonwoods whispered when the wind blew, and the rain tap-dancing on the water twenty feet from her window often lulled her to sleep.
Her hometown seemed a million miles away tonight. She stared out her apartment windows at the solid brick wall of the condo next door. No view.
If her pop wouldnt think she was a failure, shed load up all she owned in a U-Haul and drive back home. She could be there in five or six hours. Shed cook her fathers breakfast and then follow him to the county sheriffs office, where shed work all day organizing his files. Theyd eat lunch at Dorothys Diner across the street and pretend she was sixteen again with the world waiting on her to grow up, and not twenty-five, waiting for the world to realize she was a failure.
Lauren pulled out her cell, thinking she could call her pop. It was almost nine. Hed probably be finishing up his day, heading home with his supper in a bag, looking forward to eating in front of the TV, which would be tuned to a football game. In an hour hed be sound asleep in his recliner.
Pop was so predictable. When she was growing up, he cooked the same meals every week. Chili dogs on Monday, pancakes with burned sausage on Tuesday, grilled chicken and baked potatoes on Wednesday, meat loaf or spaghetti on Thursday. They had take-out pizza on Friday and leftovers, if there were any, on Saturday. Sundays they ate out or warmed up cans of soup. Oh, she almost forgot, they usually had hamburgers if he got home late. If she hadnt learned to cook early, he probably would have stuck to that menu until she left for college. She was twelve before she knew appetizers could be something besides potato chips.
Now, their conversations were the same. For her, work was always great, yes, she was making friends, no, she didnt need any money. For him, hed tell her about the weather, talk about the folks in town whod ask about her, and say no, he wasnt lonely, he was doing fine.
Lauren shoved her cell back into her pocket. She didnt call. Tonight she wasnt sure she could stand to hear him tell her one more time how proud he was of her.
His Lauren was moving up, honing her skills as a writer. It wouldnt be long until she finished a book and was on the bestseller list, hed say. Crossroads just might have to open a bookstore in town with Laurens first book about to hit any day and Tim OGrady working on his fourth novel.
Shed heard Pop brag to everyone, and she hadnt said a word. Shed had three jobs in a year, all ending in being laid off. None in publishing. She was not moving up or working on her book. The chance of anyone from Crossroads filling a bookstore shelf was highly unlikely, with her manuscript unfinished and Tims novels all ebooks.
If the Crossroads Bookstore ever opened, the local author shelf would be empty.
Lauren jumped out of her self-pity when her phone buzzed.
Tim OGradys name flashed along with his smiling face. She grinned and answered.
Hello, Hemingway, dont tell me youve just finished another book. Lauren tried to sound happy. He always called to celebrate over the phone when he finished anything. The outline. The edit. The final draft.
She always acted excited, and she suspected he always tried his best to sound sober.
Hi, L.
For once he actually did sound sober.
You able to talk? Not on a date or anything? He paused. When she didnt answer, he added, And no, before you ask, the books not finished. Tonight Im dealing with real life.
Im home. She dropped to the couch. Alone. Whats up? Talk to me. She needed a little bit of home, and talking to the boy shed grown up next door to might help.
I dont know what you can do about it, but I need help. Weve got a real mess here, and I dont know how to handle it.
Whats happened? She could feel bad news coming and wished someone would invent an umbrella that could protect her for just one breath so she would be ready.
Thatcher Jones is in jail. Tim said the words fast, as if he had to get them out of his mouth. Hes eighteen, so no juvie for him. Hes locked upstairs at the county offices.
What! Does Pop know? What happened? Is he okay?
Slow down, L. Tims laugh didnt have much humor in it. Of course your pop knows. Hes the one who arrested him. Which was lucky for the kid. Thatchers easygoing, but when he gets mad, he blows up. Your pop can handle him.
Facts, Tim, give me the facts.
You know that truck stop on the Lubbock Highway? The one where we used to stop because you couldnt make it all the way home from college without a potty break, then youd complain about how dirty it was?
I remember. It has a little grocery store on one side. Carries two cans of everything, including motor oil.
Well, I dont know why Thatcher was out there. Its the opposite direction from Charley Collinss place, and he said he was heading home from school. Youd think Charley would be a good influence on him. But I guess some people are just destined to cross with the law.
Lauren rolled her eyes. Charley Collins had been as reckless as they come when he was in high school. His own father disowned him, but Charley was a good man and so was Thatcher. Tim, stop sounding like a line from a book. Get back to what happened to Thatcher.
She swore she could almost hear Tim nodding. Right. Thatcher was in the store out at the truck stop with a backpack full of groceries that hadnt been bought. He said he was bringing them back, but old Luther, who owns the place, didnt believe him. Called Thatcher nothing but a lying thief. Said hed known three generations of his people, and they were all trash.
What happened next?
Thatcher swung. Knocked Luther out, I heard.
Lauren closed her eyes, almost able to see the scene in her mind. Go on, she whispered into her phone.