She watched as his eyes slid over her, noticing the sparkle of her shirt in the dimming evening twilight.
“Look at you, babe. All sparkly.”
When she reached him, she slugged him in the shoulder. “Shut up.”
“Just kidding, Jess. You look real pretty.”
“Take a look at Summer,” she said, turning to look over her shoulder back toward her dad’s truck, where he was holding the door for Summer to climb in.
Cary looked over and whistled softly.
Jessie turned back to look at him. “I know! You should have seen dad’s face when he saw her. Priceless.”
Cary moved toward his door. “Climb in, squirt.”
“Squirt. Who you callin’ squirt? I’m five-eight.”
They both climbed in the truck.
“And thanks for opening my door for me. What a gentleman.”
He looked over at her, pausing before turning the key. “Do you want me to open the door for you, Jess?”
“I
am
a girl!”
“Okay. Fine. Climb out, and I’ll come around and open the door for you.”
Jessie rolled her eyes. “Just start the truck.”
“Nope.” He reached for the handle and opened his door.
“Cary! Just start the truck.” She noticed out the windshield her father’s truck pulling past them and heading out the drive. Cary climbed out and moved around the hood of his truck. And then her door was being yanked open, and Cary was pulling her out. “Cary, what the hell are you doing?”
“You’re right. There’s a proper way to treat a lady. You’re not a kid anymore, and you deserve to have a man treat you right.” He pulled her to the side and closed the door. Then he pushed her up against it. “Not just me, Jessie. All guys. You deserve it. Don’t settle for anything less. Hear me.”
“I hear you,” she whispered, staring up at him. He looked down at her, and Jessie wished she could read the emotion she saw in his eyes.
“You do look real pretty tonight, sweetheart,” he said softly.
She smiled, her heart melting a little.
He yanked open the truck door and bowed down with a flourish, “Your chariot, Princess.”
Steve drove down the highway with Summer squeezed in the middle, between him and Pop. His eyes kept straying to her legs. He longed to put his hand on her knee, but no chance of that happening with Pop along.
She glanced up at him, and he smiled at her, his eyes returning to the road, where he vowed to keep them. That worked for about a minute, until he realized keeping his eyes on the road, didn’t stop him from breathing in the sweet scent of her perfume. His grip on the wheel tightened.
It was a long twenty miles out to the Roadhouse.
Finally, he slowed the truck and flicked on the turn signal. A neon sign came into view, and he made the turn into a huge gravel parking lot that ran the length of The Roadhouse, which was a big wooden building that looked a lot like a huge log cabin. Steve pulled down an aisle to the very end and parked the truck in one of several empty spots. He climbed out on his side, and Pop climbed out on the other side.
Summer made a move to scoot to Pop’s door, but Steve’s hand on her arm stopped her. “Come out this side, darlin’. I’ll lift you down.” She slid under the steering wheel and swung her legs around. He grabbed her waist, she put her hands on his shoulder, and he lifted her down.
“Thank you, Steve,” she said, smiling up at him.
“You’re welcome, Summer.”
Cary’s truck pulled into the spot next to them.
Cary looked over at Jessie. “Don’t move.” Then he jumped out, went around, and opened her door.
Steve moved Summer to the side and shut his door. Then he watched in utter amazement as Cary opened the door for Jessie and helped her down.
Cary turned and looked at Steve. “What? You think you’re the only man with any manners?”
Steve grinned and shook his head. “Apparently there’s hope for you, yet.”
They headed toward the building.
Summer could hear music pouring from inside and could smell steaks cooking. “Umm, something smells good.”
Steve took her by the hand, led her up the steps of the wooden porch, and inside. They stepped into a large entryway. Summer realized the place was one big log building. The walls were exposed logs, the floors worn hardwood. There was a hall straight in front of them, off the entryway that contained restrooms. To the left was a large archway that led into the main dining room. On the right was another large archway that led into the bar and dance hall. That was the side that the music poured out of.
Steve led her into the dining room. Pop, Cary, and Jessie followed. They grabbed a big round table in the back. Steve pulled out a chair for her.
Summer looked around the room, as the others all took their seats. The room was big, with open rafters. There were tables of all shapes and sizes crowded together. A bar ran the length of the back wall, and some customers were sitting eating at the bar. Waitresses hustled around the room, taking orders, carrying trays of food, and fetching drinks from the bar.
Steve pulled the single five-by-seven inch hand written menu from the condiment basket sitting in the center of the table. He slid it in front of Summer. She looked down at it. There were only three things on the menu entitled Friday Night. Steak. Ribs. Chicken. The sides included, baked potato, fries, vegetable of the day. Dessert listed banana pudding or pecan pie. That was it.
A waitress walked up to the table. “Hey, everybody. How y’all tonight? Can I start y’all off with something to drink?”
“Yeah. Give us a pitcher of draft and four glasses,” Steve said, then he nodded toward Jessie. “And a cola for the underage minor over there.”
“Dad! God, you’re so embarrassing.”
He winked at her.
“And can I also get a glass of water, please?” Summer added.
“Sure thing, hon. I’ll be right back with your drinks and to take your order.” She hustled off.
Steve dug his hand into the bucket of peanuts on the table and laid them on the table in front of him. He cracked one open and shook out the nuts. Then he reached over, took Summer’s hand, turned it palm up, and dropped the peanuts into her hand. She looked at him, smiled, and popped them into her mouth. He winked at her.
Cary threw a nut, shell and all, across the table at Jessie.
She threw one back at him.
He threw another at her. It fell right down the scooped neckline of her tank.
She sucked in her breath. “Oh, you are
so
dead.”
Cary’s mouth fell open, and then he tried to stifle a laugh. “Swear to God, Jess, I didn’t mean to do that.”
She dug the peanut out and prepared to throw it back at him.
“Okay, you two. Truce,” Steve ordered.
The waitress arrived with their drinks, and then she took their dinner order. Everyone ordered steak and baked potato, with the vegetable of the day, which they were informed, was corn. When she left, Steve grabbed up the pitcher and poured a glass of beer, sliding it in front of Summer.
“Thank you,” she said softly. He filled two more, sliding them to Cary and Pop. Then filled one for himself and set the pitcher back down. “This place is packed,” Summer observed, looking around.
“Yep. They do a good business, especially on the weekend. And the food’s good.”
“Do you come here often?”
“Once a month, maybe.”
“So, how was your day?” Summer asked him, taking a sip of her beer.
He folded his arms, leaning on the table, and looked down into her face. “Good, babe. How was yours?”
“It was fine.”
“What did you do in town?”
“I, uh, ran some errands.”
He studied her, knowing there was something she wasn’t telling him. “Errands?”
“Yes.”
“Like what?”
“Steve.”
“What errands, Summer?”
“Just some errands.”
“What happened to those brownies I smelled you baking this morning?”
“Brownies?”
“Yeah, brownies. Smelled you baking ‘em. Saw the empty pan in the sink when I left you that note.” His eyes searched hers. “You take ‘em to town?”
“I…”
“You did, didn’t you? You took them to him.”
“Steve, I…”
“What’d I tell you, Summer?”
“Steve, I just wanted to tell him thank you. That’s all.”
“What’d I tell you?”
She looked down.
“Steve,” Cary warned.
“Stay out of this,” Steve warned, not taking his eyes from Summer. “What’d I tell you, babe?”
“To stay away from him.”
He nodded, his eyebrows raised. “Yeah, I did. See you listen real well. Think maybe there’s a reason I told you that?”
Her heated gaze snapped back to him. “Probably, but you won’t seem to tell me what that is, will you?”
“He’s not a good guy, Summer.”
“Why do you say that?”
He shook his head. “Just drop it.”
The waitress walked up with their food and began setting their plates down. Summer didn’t want to drop it, but she let it go. They all ate in silence, and she knew the night was ruined.
When the meal was through, and Steve had paid the check, Jessie tried to break the ice. “Can we go listen to the band now, Daddy?”
Steve looked over at her and nodded. “Sure, baby-girl.” He stood up and helped Summer to her feet. He took her hand, and they all moved through the crowded dining room, moving toward the other side of the building. They entered the archway, and Summer pulled back on Steve’s hand. The others moved on past them, Cary leading them to a table. Steve turned back to Summer. “What?”
“I just…I’m sorry about upsetting you. Maybe you should just take me back to the farm.”
“Not happening. Come on. We’re dancing.” He pulled her into the room and straight to the dance floor. The country band was playing a slow love song, and Steve pulled her into his arms.
Before Summer knew what was happening, Steve’s palm was at the small of her back, pressing in until she was pressed up against him. She could feel the warmth of his hand burning into her bare skin, and a jolt went through her. Looking up into his eyes, she knew he felt it to. Her left hand settled gently on his shoulder, and she felt his hand tighten around her right hand.
He began moving them around the floor, and she fell in step with him, following his lead as if she’d done it a million times, instead of never. She broke eye contact with him, her gaze going over his shoulder as the room spun by them. She felt his jaw near her head, inhaling the flowery scent of her hair. His hand slid up her bare back, his fingers caressing the soft skin. She swallowed and her grip tightened on his shoulder. He must have felt her reaction, because his head pulled back slightly and he looked down at her. So, she wasn’t as immune to him as she pretended to be and obviously he could read her like a book.
He dipped his head to her ear. “I’m sorry, Summer. Sometimes I can be an ass. Can you let it go? Please.”
She pulled her head back to look at him and nodded. “Alright.”
“I think they made up,” Cary said, leaning his elbows on the cocktail table, dipping his head to Jessie, and lifting his chin toward the dance floor.
She followed his gaze to see her father’s head dipped close to Summer’s. “Guess so.”
“Want to dance, baby-doll?” he asked.
She looked at him, and Cary could almost read her thoughts. He was confusing her, he knew. She was probably wondering at this new side to him. The Cary she knew would never have asked her to dance. He would have been more like he’d acted earlier, throwing peanuts at her.
“Okay.”
He stood up and reached for her hand, pulling her to her feet. He led her to the dance floor and pulled her into his arms. “You know how to follow, Jess?”
“Follow?”
“On the dance floor. I lead. You follow.”
She started to look down at their feet.
“Not about lookin’ at your feet, baby-doll. You just gotta flow with the music and move with me. Think you can do that?” He smiled down at her, pulling her tighter against him.
She smiled back at him. “I think I can handle that, Cary.”
Cary whirled her around the dance floor several times and felt her begin to relax in his arms. As bad as she sometimes irritated him, he knew he’d actually really miss her when she went off to college next year.
“You’re not a bad dancer, Cary.”
“Well, thanks, squirt,” he teased her. “You’re doing pretty well, yourself.”
“Wow, two compliments in one day, are you feeling okay?” she teased back.
Cary chuckled, glancing over her head. He saw Justin standing in the archway, leaning against the doorframe, and whispered, “Aw, shit!”
“What is it?” Jessie twisted to see what he was looking at.
“Guy leaning in the doorway?”
“Yeah?”
“Your dad and him, they mix like oil and water.”
“Why?”
“It’s a long story, but take my word for it, they can’t be in the same room together without all hell breaking loose.”
“Maybe we should leave.”
Cary glanced around trying to locate Steve. He spotted Summer and Steve sitting back at their table with Pop. “Let’s get back to the table. Maybe I can distract him, so he doesn’t spot Justin.”
They moved through the crowd back to the table. When they arrived, Steve was leaning his elbows on the table, Summer’s hand in his, he stroked her fingers as he stared into her eyes.
“You need a beer, Steve?” Cary asked, standing next to the table, while Jessie sat down.
Steve dragged his eyes from Summer to look up at Cary. Then he let go of her hand and stood up. “I’ll get it. You sit down.”
“I can get it,” Cary protested.
“I said, sit down. Tonight’s on me.” Just then, his eyes skated past Cary to the doorway, and his face turned hard.
Cary moved in front of him, his hands coming up to hold him back. He commanded in a low voice, “Let it go, Steve. Let it go.”
Steve took a few deep breaths, and then his eyes connected with Cary’s. He nodded. “Alright. I’m fine. You can let go now.”
“You sure?”
“Yup.”
Cary sat down, and Steve moved off toward the bar.
“If you’ll excuse me, I need to visit the ladies room,” Summer announced, rising.