Page 24 of Hot Times in Heart Falls, Vignettes Vol 3

Tonight the energy inside ricochetted like a raccoon caught in a karaoke machine.

Tucker stepped through the door behind Luke and immediately winced at the off-key wailing coming from center floor.

“God help us,” he muttered.

On the tiny dance area, Dare twirled wildly, her long limbs flying, her hips a beat ahead of the music as she butchered the lyrics to a country ballad. It might’ve hit harder if it weren’t screeched at double volume and punctuated by jazz hands. The only line Tucker caught was something like “I ain’t your angel, and you sure ain’t mine…”

“‘Angel of the Broken Heart’?” Luke guessed beside him. “That’s gotta be it. Poor Reba’s rolling in her grave, and she’s not even dead.”

Dare had clearly tried to make a dramatic fashion statement—her jacket half-off, a second shirt tied around her waist, hair tousled as if she'd fought someone to keep her boots.

And Ginny, poor Ginny, clung to her side like a human seatbelt.

She didn’t look drunk—more like exhausted and deeply, profoundly over it.

“Okay,” Luke said grimly. “Time to go.”

Rex, the bartender, nodded at them with his usual stiff-jawed disapproval, then he shocked the hell out of Tucker by calling out gruffly, “I’ll cover their tab. Just get that one home.”

Tucker gave the man a quick salute. “Thanks.”

Ahead of him, Luke wove through the crowd with the kind of single-minded determination usually reserved for men facing down a raging bull. He reached Dare just as she flung her arms wide for a dramatic spin, and he caught her mid-revolution.

“Whoa there, Patsy,” Luke said, scooping her off the floor like a rogue pageant contestant having a breakdown. “Time to exit stage left.”

Dare blinked at him then patted his cheek affectionately. “Awww. You’re the bestest big brother. You came.”

“Yep.” He adjusted her in his arms as she sagged against him, the emotional energy suddenly draining out of her. “You’re done.”

Ginny sagged too—but only in relief. She turned toward Tucker, breath hitching, her expression pinched with gratitude and mortification in equal parts.

“She wouldn’t leave.” Ginny’s voice was tight. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

“You did good,” Tucker said quietly, resting a hand on the small of her back. “We’ve got her.”

As Luke carried Dare toward the door, Ginny followed. Tucker stepped beside her, instinctively slipping an arm around her shoulders when she swayed a little too far to the left.

She immediately stiffened. “I’m not drunk.”

“Didn’t say you were.”

“You don’t need to carry me.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re carrying me with your arm.”

“That’s not how carrying works.” He eased it away but didn’t quite step back. “I’m walking beside you, Stone. You’d know if I carried you.”

Ginny shot him a look. “Would I?”

Something zinged low in Tucker’s gut at the mental image of her cradled in his arms, but he tamped it down fast. Tonight was not the night.

“Come on,” he said, holding the door for her. “Let’s get Dare home before she decides to go for round three of the talent show.”

The instant the truck doors were unlocked, Luke climbed into the back seat, settling Dare on his lap like a sack of half-drunken potatoes. She leaned against him, humming tunelessly into his neck.

Which left Ginny the front passenger seat, her arms wrapped tightly across her chest as she angled her body toward the door.