His Old Lady - Debra Kayn Page 0,6

until he has my car checked out. And in the morning, I am going to take the job at Riverside Bar."

Faye walked away from him, apparently going to the bedroom to get ready to leave. He fisted his hands at the extra swish of her hips. What part of he'd take care of her had she not understood?

He strode down the hallway and went to the spare room. She held her bag and was in the process of wiggling her feet into her sneakers.

"Paco lives five miles away," he said

"I'm in good shape. I can walk that far."

"It's after midnight."

She ignored him and zipped up her bag.

"Go to bed, Faye." Tired and at the end of his day, all he wanted to do was hit the sack.

Her head came up, and she studied him. She could work her expression like nobody he knew, and it was clear what she thought of him at the moment.

He wasn't in the mood to argue with her. She belonged to him. If he wanted her to stay at the house, she would stay.

Faye's mouth pinched, and her head moved slightly on a slim neck. He walked out, unable to take that stubborn streak of hers always coming out. She couldn't let things be.

She couldn't forgive him.

And he couldn't forget.

Shutting himself in his bedroom, he grabbed the phone on the nightstand and dialed Priest.

"Yeah?" said Priest.

"I have a problem." He looked over at the door. "The manager at Riverside has an interview tomorrow morning with Faye. I know damn well, he'll hire her. That can't happen."

"I'll take care of it."

"Thanks."

He hung the receiver on the phone and set it back on the nightstand. Stretching out on the mattress, he linked his hands together over his chest and stared up at the ceiling. All hell was going to break loose in the morning when Faye found out the job she counted on was no longer available.

Chapter 2

Faye

Fury boiled inside Faye. She slammed the car door, ignoring the Tarkio members loitering around the front of the building, and marched into the clubhouse.

Paco jumped from the couch and stepped in her way. She darted around him and strode to the door of the meeting room. Banging her fist on the wood, she yelled, "Curley."

"He's not in there," said Paco behind her.

She turned around. "Where is he?"

"Behind the clubhouse."

She hurried down the hallway to the back door. Outside, she looked around and found him talking to Frank, Roddy, and Banks.

The other men alerted Curley to her presence before she reached him. Irritated more by their buddy-buddy-I've-got-your-back mentality, she stopped in front of him, fisted her hand, and raised her arm.

Curley's hand grasped her wrist before she could swing. "Don't even think about hitting me."

She kicked him in the shin and yanked her arm out of his clutch. "You can't stop me from working."

"I can stop you from working at Riverside Bar."

"Just because you don't want me there while you hang out, doesn't make it—"

"Shut up." He slipped his hand under her arm and walked her around the corner of the building. "That place is no good. I don't want you working there."

"That's not your decision to make."

"The hell it is." He swung her around until she faced him. "Paco fixed your car. Go home."

She stormed away. Coming to Missoula always turned out bad when she ran into Curley. He wanted her out of his life, and he was stuck with her, through no fault of her own.

He wasn't the only one who's life had changed the second he honored the code he swore by and told Uncle Walker about sleeping with her. She never would've mentioned that night to anyone.

She slid into the driver's seat of her car and slammed the door.

A shadow covered her, and she looked out the side window and found a welcome face a few inches from the glass, smiling at her. All her pent-up anger burst out in one long exhale, and she rolled down the window.

"I was yelling your name, and you never even heard me." Tracy reached inside the car and hugged her with one arm. "I didn't know you were going to be in town. Come inside and visit with me. Rick's at home waiting for the kids to wake from their nap, and I have to drop off some papers for Jerry, but I can stay long enough to catch up with you. Or, were you leaving?"

Tracy had been her best friend until she was eight years old and moved