Picnic in Someday Valley (Honey Creek #2) - Jodi Thomas Page 0,1
at him. They’d run out of conversation, and with his hat on, she couldn’t see anything but the bottom half of his face. Strong jaw. A one-inch scar on the left of his chin was almost camouflaged by his week-old beard. He wasn’t handsome or homely.
She decided to wait him out. She guessed he wasn’t a man to enjoy chatter.
“I’m not trying to pick you up, Marcie,” he finally said with the same emotion he’d read a fortune cookie.
“I know. ‘You want to sit down?’ is the worst pickup line ever.” She raised her voice slightly as a half dozen good ol’ boys who smelled like they’d been fishing stumbled in. They all lived around Someday Valley, most with their folks, and even though they were near her age, not one had a full-time job.
Joey Hattly, the shortest of the pack, bumped into Marcie’s chair. Joey must have heard Marcie say ‘pickup line.’
“I got a line that never fails.” The stinky guy pushed his chest out as if performing to a crowd.
Marcie smelled cheap liquor on his breath and fish bait on his clothes. She moved an inch closer to Brand. She wasn’t afraid of Joey, but she didn’t want her sins listed again. Some of the bar regulars liked to remind her that she was a jailbird’s girlfriend.
Luckily, Joey was more interested in talking about himself tonight. “I can pick up any gal with just a few words. I walk up to a table of pretty gals and say, ‘Evening, ladies. This is your lucky night. I’m single and here to dance. I’ve got a college education and I know my ABD’s.’ ”
He held up a finger to silence everyone before adding, “Wanna C what I can do?”
The fishing buddies laughed. One slapped Joey on the back. “Don’t waste your lines on Marcie; she’s not interested. She’s sworn off all men since she slept with the bottom of the barrel.”
She didn’t count Brand as a friend, but right now, he was the safest bet in the room. A pack of drunks was never good, and they all appeared to have more than a few bottles of courage in them.
Another fisherman joined in. “Yeah, she was shacking up with a killer. They say a man who thinks about burning folks alive is sick in the head. If you ask me, she knew what he was planning. She don’t deserve to just walk away free when that fire Boone set almost killed four people. Least we should do is give her a spanking.”
The oldest of the group added as he scratched his bald head, “Maybe we should strip her and paint an A on her chest like they did in that old book Mrs. Warren made us read.”
“They stripped a woman in The Scarlet Letter?” Joey’s squeaky voice chimed in. “Maybe I should have read that.”
His buddy added, “There were no pictures, Joey.”
The sound of the bartender racking a shotgun silenced the room. “Closing time. One more drink and I’m turning off the lights.” Nothing in Wayne’s action suggested that he was kidding.
The gang turned their attention to the bar. Marcie had never seen the bartender fire the shotgun, but Wayne had slapped a few drunks senseless with the stock.
The bald guy gave her a wicked look before he joined his buddies.
Brand slid his half-empty beer across the table and stood. “Get your guitar. I’m taking you home.”
Marcie managed to force a smile proving she wasn’t afraid. “Brandon, that won’t be necessary. I live across the street in the trailer park. I can walk home.”
“It’s not a suggestion, it’s a favor, and I told you, I’m not picking you up. That trailer park isn’t safe to walk through in daylight, much less after midnight.”
She looked up and for once she could see his coffee-brown eyes. He looked worried, almost as if he cared. “I’m not your problem.” Marcie laced her fingers without making any move to follow his orders. “I’m no one’s problem. I don’t think you even liked me, so why act like you care now?”
She’d slept with some truck driver a few months after Boone went to jail. The trucker had bragged that she told him all kinds of things about what Boone did in bed and then she claimed the trucker was better. The trucker must have known she wouldn’t say anything when he bragged. If she had, no one would believe her.
She looked up at Brand Rodgers, wondering if he was looking for a story to brag