Finding Amy (2 page)

Read Finding Amy Online

Authors: Carol Braswell

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Romance, #Romantic Suspense, #Crime Fiction, #Mystery & Suspense, #Suspense

“Oh no,
” she yelled.

“I
’m sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going.” He grabbed a handful of napkins from a nearby table and proceeded to wipe the spill from her jacket.

Amy slapped
his hand. “What are you doing? Stop. I’ll take care of it.”

Carson raised his head to find deep green eyes glaring at him.
His mouth tightened when he saw the familiar face. Her brow drew together in an angry frown. Glancing back at the front of her jacket, he realized the spill covered her left breast. He grinned at the beautiful shade on her cheeks that made her face glow. “Sorry.” He lowered his hand.

“Amy, do you
need a wet towel?” the girl behind the counter asked.


Yes, thanks, Meg.” Amy walked around him and stormed toward the back of Starbucks.

Carson
waited at a table next to the front door, facing the bathroom. He rose when she appeared. She stopped, their eyes met and his heart raced, sending a flurry of tiny shocks through his body. He cleared his throat, trying to pull his attention back to where it should be and stepped toward her.

The closer he got the more
electricity passed between them. He’d never had that happen before when a woman just looked at him. He removed his hat and stretched his right hand forward. “I’m Carson Garrett, and I feel really bad about this. Let me pay to have your jacket cleaned.”

Amy
ignored the offer of a hand shake and lowered her head to inspect the stain. “That won’t be necessary. It’s washable. I’ll throw it in the machine when I get home.”

Carson
lowered his arm and stepped closer. The heat radiated from her body, causing a tightening in his chest. The sweet scent that surrounded her reminded him of his mother’s hummingbird garden. “Then let me buy you dinner. Say, tonight, after you get off work?” He arched one eyebrow and cocked his head to one side seductively.

He heard
Amy’s quick intake of breath. He had little trouble in seducing women. When her mouth curved into a smile, he knew she would say yes. “That would be breakfast, and yes, I will accept.” She stepped around him and glanced over her shoulder. “I’ll see you at midnight.”

Carson
replaced his hat and put his thumb and index finger to the front of his Stetson, tipped his hat, and smiled. “I’ll be there earlier for my Coors.”

He left Starbucks, walked
to his truck and drove to the Holiday Inn for some much needed rest before going to the bar tonight. The shock that ran through him had caught him off guard. He couldn’t afford to be distracted by romantic notions right now. It might be more than he could handle. He had never met anyone that affected him the way she did today. It will be hard pulling those reins in tight to keep her from penetrating his professional shell.

 

****

 

Max stood behind the wooden fence, watched Carson cross the street and leave. The hotel bed called his name, now that he knew where Carson would be for the next four hours. Tonight will be another night of following the ranger and girl. That damn Texas Ranger better be getting close. Max wanted to go home. It’s too damn cold in Wyoming. He wanted to get back to Texas with sixty degree days and forty degree nights. None of this, highs in the thirty’s and who knew what the night would bring. This was only October, for God’s sake. The job had to get done pretty soon or Martin would start riding Max’s ass again or have a heart attack. Max knew he had to be patient. But patience didn’t fit into his profile and not one of his best features. This had to be over and done with soon so he could get what he came after and the women and the kid could die.

Chapter 2

Flipping through hangers in her closet, Amy tried to find the perfect shirt. Every item of clothing she had brought with her from Texas wouldn’t attract a flea much less a person like Carson. Glancing at her bed that had disappeared under a pile of rejects, Amy sighed and plopped on top of the garments. She should have gone shopping for a new blouse. She had seen one she really liked at the tiny store around the corner from Cowboy Bills. Lying flat on her back with arms above her head, Amy stared at the dark brown water mark on the acoustical ceiling. The longer she stared, the more of the handsome cowboy’s face took shape.
Where’s he from? What is he looking for? Why did he ask me out?

Amy shot up from the bed. “Oh good grief.
It’s not like a date. He only offered to buy me breakfast because he feels bad about this morning
.
But to be on the safe side, I’ll keep my guard up, like I always do.”
She grinned and grabbed a black, long sleeve, silk, shirt with God Bless America in rhinestones across the front and slipped it over her head. She had to lie flat in order to zip the tight Wranglers. They were a new pair she’d put back for a special occasion. Pulling her black Ropers on, she secured the sides of her hair with two large barrettes and let the remainder hang loose. Checking in the mirror for the umpteenth time, she applied strawberry flavored gloss to her lips, found another down jacket, and left the apartment.

The loud, steady thumping
vibrated through her chest before Amy ever reached Cowboy Bills. From the street, music and voices blared over the passing cars. Stepping inside, it took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust to the dimly lit interior. Amy shoved her way through the crowd to get to the bar. When Stan spotted her, he threw his hands up as if accepting defeat. Grabbing the towel from his hip pocket, he swiped it across his red face and Amy saw his rigid shoulders slump.


I don’t know where they came from.” He let out a heavy sigh and replaced his bar towel as he scanned the crowd of customers. “It’s been like this since five and the band doesn’t start until nine. I’ll work this end for you.”

“Thanks
, Stan.” Amy hung up her jacket, grabbed a bar towel, stuck it in the hip pocket of her jeans, and went to wait on a customer. The people were elbow to elbow, lined up against the twenty-eight feet long bar and one bartender couldn’t effectively handle this crowd.

Stan Renfro had owned
Cowboy Bills since his retirement from the Denver Police Department. His short, stocky build and full crop of white hair only added to his charm. At fifty-plus, he had plenty of women trying to attract his attention, to no avail. Stan had never married and had no desire to walk down the aisle. Bess, his steady girlfriend, come in to meet him at closing time most nights. She and Stan treated Amy like a daughter and they all worked well together when Bess helped on busy nights.

When Amy
applied for the job, the club had been full and he’d hired her on the spot. She had never bartended in her life. It didn’t take her long to learn the art of mixing drinks. Now and then she still had to ask Stan the ingredients in a drink order, but not often.

The night flew by as Amy mixed drinks, flipped caps off beer bottles, emptied ashtrays
, and wiped the counter down. She glanced up every time the door opened. Sara, the waitress, had just placed an order for frozen drinks for a table of twelve and Amy had her hands full with the blender, when the outside door opened. She couldn’t fight the urge to check out the new arrival and the top flew off of the blender, splattering the people closest in a red sticky mess.

“Where is your mind to
night, Amy?” Sara scolded, grabbing a damp towel and wiping the strawberry daiquiri from her dark, spiked hair.

“I’m sorry, Sar
a. The top didn’t seal.” She passed out damp towels to all of the soaked customers then hurried to wait on another person screaming over the band for a Miller Light.

The
full house and dance floor didn’t keep Amy from spotting Carson stroll in the front door. Her heart skipped a beat when he glanced at her and winked before an attractive blond sitting with three companions latched onto his arm. Amy’s fingers tightened around the bottle neck of Bacardi and the shot glass she poured the liquid in, spilled over onto the bar.

“Crap,” she breathed and set the bottle down to wipe up the spill. She couldn’t help but loo
k back at the four women hanging onto Carson’s attention. His hand rested on the back of the blonde’s chair as he laughed and talked to the women. Amy’s jaw tightened when he leaned over and whispered in the blonde’s ear. The woman threw her head back, and laughed loud enough to be heard over the band. Amy slammed the bottle back on the rack behind the bar, crossed her arms over her breasts and glared at the table until Carson tipped his hat to the women and strolled to the far end of the club and slid onto his usual stool next to the wall. Stan had that section and set the beer in front of Carson.

How dare he openly flirt with other women in front of her, an
d in the place where she worked? Amy should tell him just where he could put his breakfast until it dawned on her; she had no hold on him. They would have a casual meal to make up for the damage he had done this morning. He could flirt with anyone who appeals to him.
Get over it.

After her realization,
Amy could concentrate on her job if those sky blue eyes would stop following her around. It sent a tingle running up her back and down to her toes. She glanced in his direction every chance she got, but most of the time the customers were too demanding. The closer the clock got to midnight, the drunker the crowd became. One particular man in her section had been mouthing obscenities and making crude passes at her for over an hour. Amy had cut off his drinks an hour ago and ignored his slurs. Breaking glass drew her attention and when she turned, a large, sweaty arm grabbed her. The drunk leaned over the bar and shoved his free hand up under her shirt, squeezing her breast so hard, she cried out. He flashed a toothless grin and lowered his head to her neck. Amy fell back against the register when the man was propelled away and shoved against the back wall with his arms pinned behind his back.


She ain’t nothin’ but a two-bit bar fly who has been shaking her ass in front of me and asking for it all night.”

Carson
raised his fist and connected with the troublemakers face and blood spewed from the drunk’s nose. Amy turned her head and almost lost the tomato bisque soup she had for dinner. She inhaled a deep breath and let it out slowly before turning back around.

Stan and Carson each took one of the drunk’s arms and
drug him out the front door. They had been outside a long time before coming back in, without the man.


I could have handled him,” Amy plopped her fist on her hips and faced Stan as he passed by on his way to the other end of the bar.

He nodded and
pulled a Coors Light out of the cooler. “I know you could have, but I wanted to do it.” He grinned as he strolled back to his station, handed the beer to Carson, and stood there talking until another customer ordered a drink.

When the band announced
last call, Amy got busier. Everyone wanted one more before hitting the road. The band played their usual theme song,
The Parties Over,
ending the set and Stan turned on the overhead lights and ushered the crowd out, locking the door behind them. He left Amy to clean while he helped Bess and the waitress clear the tables and stack the chairs. With Stan out of her way, Amy could clean up and close the bar faster. Carson hadn’t left his usual spot and waited for Amy to finish.

When the glasses were all washed and put away, Carson helped Amy into her jacket
, brushing her neck with his fingers when he adjusted the hood of her coat. His sudden touch sent shivers down her spine. She stepped away and grabbed her purse. “I’m ready. Goodnight, Stan, Bess. See you tomorrow night.”

Stan waved and went back to counting the register
. Amy and Carson strolled out into the chilly night. The wind had picked up, scattering snow flurries on the sidewalk and catching on the branches of the evergreens planted in front of each shop.

“Where’re we going?” Carson asked.

“There’s an IHOP about three blocks from here. They’ll be busy, but it’s the only place open this time of night.”

“My truck is parked in the lot behind the bar.”

“I’d rather walk if you’re up to it.” She wrapped her arms around her middle and widened her eyes.

Carson lifted an eyebrow and put his palm on her back
, gentle pressing her forward. “Walk it is.” As they strolled in the direction of the restaurant, Carson ducked his head against the wind. When they passed under a street light, the jewels adorning Amy’s jacket reflected on his handsome face, like tiny lightening bugs.

It must have reminded him of the jacket he damaged.
“Did you get the coffee stain out of your jacket?”

“It came right out.” Her voice quivered from the cold.

Carson slipped his arm around her shoulder. “We should’ve taken the truck. You’re freezing.”

Amy couldn’t answer.
Her lips were numb. She inhaled the warmth radiating from his body and drank in the scent his heat generated. His cologne surrounded her and took her back to Texas and the spicy fresh scent of a pine forest after a rain. Visions of the two of them caught in a gentle summer rain in the East Texas’ piney woods, where she grew up, crossed her mind. Amy shivered from the cold and nearness of his body. Carson’s arm, strong and protective, tightened on her shoulder. Amy snuggled into the curve of his arm and had a burning need in the pit of her stomach to mold into his lean body. Their legs brushed as they walked, causing her body to shiver from the contact.

By the time they arrived
at IHOP the icy cold had penetrated through the wool socks she wore and her fur lined gloves. Her eyes and nose burned from the wind. She might not be able to adjust to the harsh winters in Wyoming. In Texas it rarely dropped below freezing. But when it did, it impacted the entire city. No one in the south knew how to drive in freezing weather. God help anyone who ventured out if ice covered the roads.

 

****

 

Carson opened the door of the restaurant and the warm air enveloped them. He really didn’t need the warmth. When he’d helped Amy with her coat, his fingers had accidentally touched her neck and heat had run through his arm into his whole body. Holding her so close on the walk to the restaurant in the freezing weather hadn’t helped. His leather jacket had to go before perspiration ruined it. A surging heat had engulfed him this morning at Starbucks, also. Going back to the motel room to catch up on his sleep, didn’t help but left him tossing and turning for over an hour. After a cold shower, he relaxed on the king size bed and pictured her face. Is it possible for her to be more attractive in the early morning light than the dim lights of the bar? He had only seen her from across the street and behind the bar. Never up close. The intensity of her sea green eyes and the cool air making her cheeks glow enhanced her beauty. He knew she was pretty but had no idea just how beautiful. She glowed. Unlike most of the women he had dated who left his white shirts caked with make-up, Amy wore little, if any at all. She didn’t need it. And her bewitching green eyes could set fire to a barn. She drew him in like a magnet that he couldn’t control. Did he even want control? He liked this new sensation.

A
waitress appeared with menus and led them to a booth next to a window in the back. Stray locks of bleached blonde hair escaped the ponytail and stuck to the sides of her face. The corners of her eyes were pinched with fine lines. She let out a heavy sign and handed the menus to the pair. “What can I get you to drink?”

Carson removed
his Stetson, placed it on the seat next to him and ran his fingers through his hair. “Coffee for me, Amy?”

 

****

 

Amy glanced at him across the table. How did he know her name? Did he hear Meg call out to her this morning or maybe Stan told him.
Stop being so paranoid
, Amy scolded.

“I’ll have water, please.” Coffee would keep her awake and she
hadn’t had any sleep today. When he ran his fingers through the sun-kissed brown hair and let it feather across his forehead, a ripple of excitement ran up her spine. She lowered her head, moistened her lips and stared at the menu. It was only an excuse to keep Carson from seeing her flushed cheeks.

The waitress brought their drinks and made a production of pouring Carson’s coffee. She brushed his hand when she set the cup close to him. “Are you ready to order?” Her voice dripping with honey.

Carson glanced at the waitress that openly flirted with him, and smiled. “Amy, are you ready?” He lowered his menu, rested his arms on the table and turned his gaze to Amy.

Amy closed the menu and shoved
it at the waitress. “I’ll have two scrambled eggs, bacon, and hash browns.”

The waitress glared at her, snatched
the menu from Amy’s hand, and turned to Carson.


I’ll have a western omelet with pancakes and a side order of ham.” He picked up his cup and sipped the hot liquid.

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