“I’d have found you anyway. One way or another, I’d have found you.”
Deirdre’s lips trembled. “It’s really strange. I wasn’t scared while it was happening. I kept thinking I’d been kidnapped by F-Troop. The weird thing is I’m scared now. Thinking back. About the way things could have turned out.” She rubbed a hand across her mouth, eyes bright. “Stupid, I know.”
Tom reached for her, pulling her into his lap. “Not stupid. Hell, it still scares me when I think about what could have happened.”
Deirdre pulled back slightly, staring up into his eyes. “Let’s go see Doris.”
“Right.” He grinned. “We can see her on the way.”
“On the way where?”
“Where do you think?”
Tom’s bedroom was dark except for the reflected light from the lamp shining in Doris’s cage in the living room. When Deirdre reached for the light switch, he caught her hand.
“Leave it. For tonight, I want it dark.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck pulling herself against his body again, his warmth, his arousal. He slid his lips along the edge of her throat, nipping the delicate skin at the base, and she sighed against him.
What if it had all gone wrong? What if I’d never had the chance to touch him again?
She drew a shuddering breath.
What if…?
“I would have found you,” he whispered against her hair. “Wherever they took you, I would have found you. So help me, Deirdre. I would have brought you back.”
She slid her hands to his waist, feeling the slight indentation of his hip bones beneath her palms. Then she raised her gaze to his ice blue eyes, dim in the evening light. “I believe you. You’re the most reliable man I know, Tom Ames.”
His breath puffed against her cheek, and then he took her mouth, his tongue sliding deep as he buried his fingers in her hair.
He moved her toward the bed, his hands busy unbuttoning and sliding inside her clothes. Clothes she suddenly didn’t want to be wearing. She felt the mattress against the back of her legs as Tom jerked her blouse over her head. And then they were down, side-by-side.
She pulled at his denim shirt, her fingers suddenly clumsy with the buttons. “Damn it, damn it, damn it!”
“It’s okay.” He chuckled softly. “I’ll get it.”
She watched him pull off his shirt and pants in the moonlight, his dusky figure almost dreamlike. A pain started somewhere low in her belly, the pull of wanting him. The pain of what had almost happened. She reached her arms toward him, and he moved into her embrace, reaching down to pull off her jeans, leaving only the bikini panties she’d gotten from Docia. She reached for them, then found herself bunching the sides in her hands and yanking. The sound of ripping silk seemed unnaturally loud, but the tearing cloth seemed to release something inside her.
Tom reached down, taking the remnants of silk from her hands and tossing them over the side of the bed. “Sorry. That’s all the underwear she brought.”
“I’ll go commando.”
His teeth flashed white in the darkness. “Works for me.”
He cupped her breasts in his hands, his lips brushing along the top in light, whispering kisses. Then he was sliding down her body, lips and tongue leaving a burning line from her collarbone to her abdomen. Deirdre arched her back, rubbing herself against him. He parted her folds, then leaned over her, warm breath, warm tongue against her center, sending arrows of pleasure that was almost pain.
She twisted on the bed, reaching for him, but he brought his mouth down again, sucking hard against her. She cried out, her voice raw in her throat, as the waves swept over her. He traveled up her body again, tongue sliding around her navel and up, lips fastening on one nipple, while his fingers pinched hard against the other.
“Please,” she gasped. “Oh, please. Now.”
She slid her fingers into his hair, pulling his mouth to hers, plunging her tongue deep.
Please, please, please
seemed to thump along with her pulse.
Another moment and he was fumbling to sheathe himself, then sliding inside her. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pushing him hard, trying to drive him deeper. His breath rattled in her ear, as he thrust harder against her, touching deep inside.
Deirdre heard herself make a sound she was pretty sure she’d never made before in her life as the wave of heat and light washed over her. Above her, Tom cried out too, burying his face in the crook of her shoulder, his teeth nipping on the fine skin at the base of her throat.
She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, holding him tight against her, as the small shocks still coursed through her body.
I might have missed this. I might never have felt this again.
She ran her hand along the back of his head, feeling the slight prickle of his hair against her palm. She might have missed it all. But she hadn’t. And she was tired of feeling like a damsel in distress.
“Did I remember to thank you?” she murmured.
“For…?”
“Showing up when you did. You and Chico riding to the rescue.”
Tom’s grin flashed again in the darkness. “We didn’t do all that much. You did a pretty good job of rescuing yourself.”
Deirdre folded her arms above her head, closing her eyes. “I did, didn’t I? That was sort of cool.”
“That was very cool.” Tom leaned down to kiss her breast, running his tongue across her nipple.
“You know, I don’t think I could have done that when I first got to Konigsburg.” She slid a fingertip down the slope of his nose. “And that’s definitely something I have to thank you for.”
He rolled onto his back, pulling her over on top of him. “Glad to oblige.”
“Now we just need to take care of Craig and my father and everything will be fine.”
A shadow seemed to pass across his face. “One problem at a time, Deirdre.”
“Don’t tell me something else happened?”
Tom closed his eyes. “Could we go back to what we were doing? Much more enjoyable.”
She ran her tongue down his chest, pausing to dip into his navel. “My turn to be glad to oblige. Believe me. Very glad.”
Above her his lips spread into a slow smile and she drew a line of kisses down his body.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Tom hated to admit it, but Deirdre’s kidnapping had provided an almost-welcome distraction from his problems at the Faro. When they got there the next day, however, he realized distraction time was over. The window had been repaired, but the beer garden was still a shambles. And they had a band coming in for the weekend. Deirdre’s café tables provided some seating, and he and Chico were able to cobble together a few more tables, using spare parts from some of the ones that were beyond repair. They still had the heavy picnic tables with umbrellas around the perimeter that hadn’t been damaged. But they were short of chairs, and they’d have to rig up a bar.
And he was on the verge of losing his liquor license. Tom tightened his grip on the clamp he was using to fix another patio table. He wondered if talking to Margaret Hastings would do any good. He’d only seen her a few times at Merchants Association meetings, and she’d reminded him of the psycho prairie wife on
Big Love.
Somehow he didn’t think she’d be interested in hearing his point of view.
He also figured Craig Dempsey wasn’t through yet. Dempsey struck him as the kind of jerk who wouldn’t back off until he’d beaten his opponent into the ground. Or gotten beaten into the ground himself. Of the two, Tom favored the latter possibility, but he didn’t know how likely it was.
Nobody else seemed as concerned as he was. Clem and Marilyn had both hugged Deirdre as soon as she’d walked into the bar. Bobby Sue had shed some tears and apologized profusely for Leon, even though he hadn’t had anything to do with Milam Broadus for several months. Even Sylvia had given her a slightly limp squeeze on the shoulder.
The Steinbruners showed up at five, nodded at Deirdre and Tom, and took up their places at the pool table. Chico stationed himself on his stool, far enough away from the door to the beer garden to discourage anyone from trying another sneak attack. The washtub of beer and ice remained beside the bar even thought the cooler was functioning again since Harry and Sylvia both claimed it made things easier. As the tables filled up, Tom told himself they were back to normal and tried his best to believe it.
He failed miserably, spending the evening with his stomach in knots as he watched customers come and go.
That night he went home with Deirdre at midnight. They hadn’t talked about it. She hadn’t invited him. They just did it, more or less automatically.
She snuggled against his body in the darkness of her barren bedroom, resting her head on his chest. “What’s wrong? Are you worried about Craig?”
Tom blew out a breath. “Do we have to talk about it?”
She propped her chin on one hand. “Yes, as a matter of fact, we do. I need to know what’s going on.”
He sighed. He’d really rather avoid the whole discussion, but he had a feeling she wouldn’t let him. And besides, she deserved to know. They all did, since they were all on the verge of losing their jobs if the Faro closed down.
Deirdre listened to his quick description of the upcoming license hearing and Margaret Hastings’ complaints. “Why is she so down on you? You’re not the only one in town serving liquor.”
“But I’m the only one who had to close down because of a riot. Nando says she goes after any bar that’s having trouble. And that’s me right now.”
“But why? What’s in it for her?”
Tom shrugged. “From what I hear, her father was an alcoholic. She’s very anti-booze, wants to dry up Konigsburg one bar at a time.”
“But if the TABC knew the truth, that you’d been targeted, that the Faro isn’t really a problem bar, they wouldn’t take your license away.”
“I can try telling them that, but it sounds like a stretch even to me.”
“I could come with you and testify. I’ll tell them about Craig and my father.”
Tom’s stomach tied another knot. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s not your problem. It’s mine. I’ll take care of it. I don’t want you involved.”
Deirdre propped her chin in her hand, staring down at him with troubled eyes. “Why is it so hard for you to take my help, Tom Ames? Or Clem’s help? Or Chico’s?”
Tom closed his eyes rather than watch her frown. “The Faro is my club. I take the profits. I pay the bills. When we get in trouble, I take the heat. I appreciate all of you, but that’s the way it is. I’m not dragging anybody down with me on this.”
“It doesn’t have to be that way.”
Tom blew out a breath. “That’s the way it is,” he repeated.
Deirdre looked like she wanted to say more, but after a moment she rubbed her face against his chest. “Damn Craig Dempsey! We need to settle this.”
Tom felt a quick spike of heat to his groin. “Deirdre, believe me, Craig Dempsey is the last person I want to talk about right now.”
Judging from the way she slid down his body, and the level of ecstasy she managed to produce over the next half hour, he decided she must feel the same way.
Deirdre didn’t go back to the Faro when Tom left the next morning. She told him she’d decided to spend the morning pricing roasters online, and she did do a couple of quick searches, just to keep herself on the near side of honest.
Then she spread out her Texas map on the dining room table and opened her hotel and motel guide beside it. She’d checked all the lodging within a twenty-mile radius of Konigsburg when she’d searched for Craig the first time. Now she widened her radius to fifty miles.
She was still mildly shocked when the resort hotel in Marble Falls connected her to Craig’s room. By then, she’d become accustomed to hearing the desk clerk say, “We have no guest named Craig Dempsey.”
Craig’s “Yeah?” sounded both fuzzy and pissed. Deirdre figured she’d managed to wake him.
Good.
“Craig, this is Deirdre Brandenburg. You know, ‘Dee-Dee’.” She put as much venom as she could into the name.
“Yeah?” He sounded more awake now, but also wary.
“Yeah. I thought we might talk about that little riot you arranged at the Faro a few nights ago. I was there, by the way. Did you figure I would be?”
There was a tiny pause on the other end of the line. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, bite me. You know exactly what I’m talking about. The cops grabbed two of the rioters, and they told them the whole story. They’re tracking down Hardesty as we speak. You’re busted, Craig.”
She heard his quick inhale. “Bullshit.”
“I don’t care if you believe me or not. I just wanted to ask if you also had a hand in the kidnapping.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” This time he sounded honestly confused.
“Your buddy, Milam Broadus. Owns a used furniture store in Konigsburg. He and a friend of his kidnapped me a couple of days ago. Fortunately, Tom and the cops were able to find me before anything too bad happened. But before they did, Broadus happened to mention that you’d told him Daddy would ransom me. So I just thought I’d ask—did you plan the whole thing, or were you just an advisor?”
“No! Jesus, what are you… Why would I kidnap you?” He sounded panicky now. Probably he was telling the truth. Not that it mattered.
“I don’t know exactly. I haven’t told the police about what Broadus said yet. Of course, if they ask him, knowing Broadus, he’ll tell them all about it. At least enough to get you some fairly nasty publicity.”
He sighed. “What do you want, anyway?”
Deirdre flattened her voice to ultimatum tone. “You need to come to the Faro tonight after midnight.”
The pause this time was long enough to make her believe he was actually thinking for once. “Why would I do that?”
“To keep yourself from being dragged into this whole kidnapping mess. If you come, I won’t tell the police about you and Broadus. Besides, it’s time we settled this thing. Once and for all. Do we have a deal, Craig?” Deirdre held her breath.
Finally, Craig sighed again. “Yeah, goddamn it, we have a deal.”
Craig tossed his suitcase in the back of his rental SUV, chewing down another antacid. No matter what Dee-Dee thought she had on him, she couldn’t tie him to that lunatic at the furniture store. It wasn’t his fault that old fart had twisted his words—he hadn’t told him to kidnap anybody.