“I’m thinkin’ that’s a good idea,” Hank said behind me.
Sanity returned and I was thinking it was a very, very bad idea.
Too late, Hank was steering me sideways, then forward, through the dining room. He grabbed a jacket off the back of a chair and then moved me through the kitchen and out the backdoor.
* * * * *
That’s when it al began. The beginning of the end.
* * * * *
The cold night air outside was like a slap in the face. If I wasn’t in Naughty Girl Martini Land, I would have sobered instantly. Unfortunately, I was deep in Naughty Girl Martini Land. So deep, I was skipping dazedly through the Naughty Girl Martini forest and leaping over the Naughty Girl Martini streams, completely oblivious to everything. I shoved the cel phone in my back pocket and turned to face Hank.
“Uncle Tex is stubborn,” I said, sounding uppity.
Hank had flipped on the outside light and there was a streetlight in the al ey behind Indy’s house. Both il uminated us and I watched as he walked up to me and threw out the jacket. His arm came around one side of me, his other hand came up on the other side to catch the edge and settle the jacket around my shoulders. Both his hands pul ed the jacket closed at my neck and stayed there.
I warmed up immediately, even as I shivered.
“Think that runs in the family,” Hank remarked.
“I’m not stubborn!” I retorted, though I knew I was.
“Right,” he replied but his lips were twitching.
“We should go in there, show Uncle Tex how to use his phone. It’s good for emergencies, and, if the stories he’s been tel ing me are anything to go by, there are a fair lot of emergencies amongst you al .”
Hank’s eyes locked on mine. “Gotta admit, that’s the truth.”
“Whisky, it’s not only the truth, it’s an understatement.” His hands flexed and he came closer. My body stil ed at his further invasion of my space.
“Whisky?” he asked softly, his namesake eyes going languid and my heart skipped in my chest.
I ignored his question, his eyes and my heart and leaned back a bit. I wasn’t so far gone into Naughty Girl Martini Land to lose my safety bearings that much.
I went on doggedly. “From what I read in his letters, Uncle Tex respects you. If you told him to use the phone, he might do it.”
“I think it might be a good idea if you leave the phone alone.”
I tilted my head to the side and narrowed my eyes at him.
Before I could say anything, he asked, “Not stubborn?”
“Nope,” I lied immediately.
“Right.” Then he grinned, ful on this time.
“Stop grinning at me, Whisky. I’m not stubborn.”
“Next thing, you’l tel me you’re not high maintenance.” I gasped. “I’m not!”
I was. I was total y high maintenance.
His eyes moved over my face.
“Jesus. Yesterday, if someone told me Tex’s niece looked like you, I would’ve laughed at them. Acted like you, maybe, looked like you, no way.”
“What do you mean by that?”