If Cain didn’t know better, he’d think she had paid the kid to get her out of having to spend time alone with him. He walked toward the counter. Grinning, he paused just a moment by Steven. “It’s a good thing I like you, kid.”
Steven shrugged and played the what-did-I-do look. “Sorry, Mr. Connery. I needed a partner.”
Cain opened his mouth to make a smart comeback, but the man coming in the front door caught his attention. Tall, muscular, a slight off-set of his shoulders, the slow, measured swagger of his gait all seemed familiar. A Stetson shielded the man’s face as he walked, head down, toward the counter.
As the man passed, Cain eased his hand to the holster of his hideaway gun, then cleared his throat. The man tilted his head just enough to make quick eye contact, then looked back down and continued to the counter.
Shadow. Why the hell was Shadow in Crayton, Missouri? On assignment? Dark ops? Coincidence? Agents never acknowledged each other on a chance meeting until they knew the lay of the land for the other one.
It was almost as if the DEA would be part of his life till the day he died.
CHAPTER THREE
Thankful for the diversion, Betsy figured a game of pool with Steven and his friends would give her time to decide whether she wanted to share a pizza with Cain or not. Would give her time to come up with a good excuse to go home. The need-to-be-at-work-early ploy would only last so long.
Betsy glanced in Cain’s direction as he stood at the counter, one leg resting on the footrail. He pushed the sleeves upward on his formfitting black thermal shirt, then leaned forward and braced his forearms on the polished oak top. His jeans were tight around his thighs and backside. She swallowed the flutter in her throat and sighed. Last week she’d seen him working out at Main Street Gym. She had no doubt as to the muscles beneath the clothes tonight.
From behind her she heard someone groan, probably over a missed pool shot. Steven walked up beside her. “Ms. Peyton, are you gonna play or keep staring at Mr. Connery?”
“Shhhhh...” She grimaced as the sound came out of her mouth.
Cain turned to look at her. The tilt of his head along with his raised eyebrows said he’d heard everything. In fact, he might have already known he had her attention.
Her mind scrambled to find a believable response to his “gotcha” moment. “I’ll have you know I was watching the game on the television mounted in the corner.” There...that sounded believable, didn’t it?
Cain glanced up at the monitor, then back at her as he grinned. “You mean that detective show with the cops and robbers running around?”
A slow-moving heat spread across her shoulders and headed south. “Someone must have changed the channel. Or…or maybe it was just a commercial about a game and I assumed that?—”
“No disrespect, Ms. Peyton, but you should hush.” Steven leaned in her direction. “You’re just making it worse.”
Music from the jukebox blared forth with a country-rock number revved enough to break the embarrassing tension. She’d lost her composure tonight, but she still didn’t intend on letting Cain into her life.
Falling head over heels in love with Phillip Peyton, her almost-ex-husband, now deceased, had been a big enough blunder for one lifetime. Love had blurred the fact of his drug use prior to their marriage. Living with him had blaringly laid everything bare.
Once she’d had an inkling of his drug use, she followed him one night. Saw him meet a guy at the auto dealership. Watched the buy happen. Made it back home, back to bed, before Phillip got back home. She’d stay single forever before she’d chance being in that type of situation again.
Cain raised a finger and pointed at the pool table. “I think it’s your play, Betsy. Be careful you don’t miss your turn.”
Careful? She was always careful when she played a game. Or did business. Or thought about having fun. Or men. Especially a man like Cain Connery. He was temptation in a pair of jeans, never mind his pull-you-in-and-lay-you-down blue eyes.
She’d played that game before. She’d lost. Lost in more ways than one.
When had sitting down to a meal with a pretty lady become so difficult? Cain bit into another slice of the large Friday night special sausage, pepperoni and double cheese pizza he’d ordered. Before long, he’d eaten nearly the entire pizza by himself.
Joanie walked back out and set a large pizza box next to Cain. “Marcy Bradley called and said her husband JB is stopping by to grab dinner for them. She paid over the phone. Can you make sure he gets the right order?”
“Sure thing. Maybe he’ll at least have time to talk.” Cain glanced across the room in Betsy’s direction. For a second, he could have sworn she let her eyes skim his way, then she turned to talk to the people at the next table. “Nobody else seems interested in my company tonight.”
“You hang in there.” Joanie laughed. “Sooner or later, she might give you the time of day. That is, if you hang around Crayton for a year or two.”
“Won’t be around that long. Soon as I finish remodeling the house my dad signed over to me, I’m putting the place on the market to sell. After that, I’m headed to St. Louis.” He reached for his flat warm beer, but Joanie poured it out and got him a new cold mug, filling it to the same level as what she’d poured out.
His first night back in town, he’d made a deal with her. Any time he came in he’d have one beer, two at the most, and nurse it all night. But every so often he’d order a cold one and they’d pour him one to his throw-away level, then charge him for a full beer. Worked for him. Worked for the house.
“Say, who was that guy who picked up a pizza right before I came to the counter?” Cain asked. “I haven’t seen him around before.”
Joanie shook her head. “You’re just like JB. In fact, all you lawmen are constantly on the lookout for anything out of the norm.”
