her eyes, as if she’d cried off the little bit she’d worn. She shimmied on the bar stool and tried to find a comfortable position. Not an easy mission for someone who’d obviously had a little too much to drink.
“Second-best-looking man in Romeo,” the woman went on, her voice slightly slurred. She took a swig from a half-empty bottle of Lonestar beer before motioning across the room to the hot, hunky cowboy near the pool table.
The player controlling the table aimed for a difficult shot. Balls clicked and the eight ball hit the corner pocket with a loud thunk. A round of cheers went up. The cowboy grinned, took the pile of cash sitting on the edge of the table and stuffed it into his pocket. He clapped the winning player on the back and exchanged a few words before turning to the loser and shaking the man’s hand, as well.
“Second-best?” Holly took another sip of Dr. Pepper and prayed for the ice-cold liquid to cool her hot body. “Who’s the first?”
“That would be the most wonderful man in the world. My husband, Bert Wayne.” The name ended on a sob. Tears brightened her eyes and spilled over.
“Are you okay?” Holly set her soda on the bar and touched the woman’s arm.
“I’m f-fine.” The woman tried for a smile that failed miserably. “Better than fine. I’m free—or I will be once Bert Wayne goes through with the divorce proceedings. That’s why I’m out living it up on a Saturday night.” She motioned around her. “Bert Wayne ain’t the only one who knows how to have himself a good time. It’s my turn.”
“You’re entitled.”
“That’s right. I deserve some fun. I am fun.” She sniffled again. “Even if Bert Wayne doesn’t think so.” She caught another sob before shaking her head. “I still can’t believe it.” Her watery gaze met Holly’s. “He said I was boring. That’s why he left me for Trana Lee Jenkins—she’s the new French manicure technician down at Miss Kim’s Nail Salon. He said I just didn’t excite him anymore and that he had to move on to greener pastures because mine had dried up and withered away.” More tears spilled over and she slapped at them with the back of one hand. “I’m so sorry. You probably don’t want to hear any of this.”
“It’s okay.”
“But you don’t even know me.”
“I know what it’s like to be alone.” She’d spent most of her life alone. Lonely.
Holly shook away the last thought and smiled. It was a new day. A new life. She’d finally come home. “My name is Holly Farraday.”
“I’m Sue Jack—did you say Farraday?” At Holly’s nod, she added, “As in Red Rose Farraday?”
Holly nodded. “She’s my grandmother. Well, she was my grandmother before she passed away. She left me her place. First thing tomorrow, I’m packing up my business and moving everything here.”
“You’re setting up shop out at Rose’s place?”
Holly nodded. “I’ve been operating from Houston, but the city is so crowded and my place is too small to accommodate all of my customers.” When the woman’s eyes widened, Holly realized what she must be thinking. After all, Red Rose Farraday hadn’t just been Holly’s grandmother. She’d also been one of the most notorious madams in Texas history who’d plied her trade at none other than the Farraday Inn.
Oddly enough, her grandmother’s notoriety hadn’t come as near a shock as the news that she’d had a grandmother in the first place.
“I make desserts for a living,” Holly explained. “I sell through a mail-order catalog and on the Internet. Satisfaction guaranteed or your money back.”
Sue teared up again. “I always thought I knew how to satisfy Bert Wayne, but then he up and left. Didn’t even say goodbye.”
“That’s terrible.”
“Not really.” She sniffled. “I mean, it is terrible, but I don’t blame him. He’s right. I am dried up. I’ve been sitting here for three hours and not one man has tried to pick me up. I’m a total loser. I’m a jawbreaker in a candy store full of mouthwatering chocolate. No one in their right mind picks a jawbreaker when they’ve got wall-to-wall Hershey’s Kisses.”
“You’re not a jawbreaker.”
“Yes, I am. I’m a big, fat, round blue jawbreaker.” She hiccupped. “On top of that, I’m drunk and I can’t drive home.”
“You don’t have to,” Holly said as she climbed from her bar stool. “Let’s go.”
Sue shook her head. “Thanks, but you shouldn’t have to leave and ruin your Saturday night just ’cause of me. I’ll just walk. It’s not far. Just a few miles up the—whoa,” she said as she tried to slide off the bar stool. She teetered and would have fallen flat on her face if Holly hadn’t caught her by the arm.
“I think walking is out of the question.”
“That’s funny,” Sue said as she leaned against Holly. “My legs were working just a few minutes ago. It’s probably arthritis.” She sniffled and sobbed. “That happens when you get old and dried up.”
“It’s not old age. It’s the tequila,” a deep voice said.
Holly glanced up just in time to see Mr. Hot and Hunky Cowboy walk up next to her. He gave Holly a smile and a wink that stalled her heart before turning to Sue.
“Hey there, Josh,” Sue said, a smile warming her face as she glanced up.
“Hey there, Sue. You look mighty nice tonight.”
“You’re just saying that.” But she smiled anyway. “Josh McGraw, have you met Heidi. Or is it Hominy? Or Hailey?”
“My name is Holly,” she told Josh.
“Nice to meet you, Holly.” The name rolled off his tongue, so deep and husky, and heat rushed through her body. Her nipples pebbled and pressed against the lace of her bra. “You need a lift home, Sue?”
“Hannah’s takin’ me.” Sue beamed at Holly. “She’s my new friend.”
“That’s right,” Holly said. “Let me just pay for my soda and—oomph!” she groaned as Sue teetered, threatening to pull them both to the ground if the cowboy hadn’t reached out and steadied the woman again.
“I’ll help you get her to the car,” Josh told Holly. He motioned to the bartender. “Put everything on my tab.”
Sue’s eyes teared up again as Josh slid an arm around her and hefted her to her feet. “You’re so nice,” she told the cowboy. “Bert Wayne was nice, too. But then he got bored and I got fat and…” She rambled on as Josh steered her after Holly who headed for the exit.
A few minutes later, Josh settled Sue into the passenger seat of Holly’s champagne-colored Lincoln Navigator. He clicked her seat belt into place, closed the door and rounded the front.
“Nice wheels,” he said, trailing his hand over the hood as he rounded the front of her SUV.
“Thanks.
