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Teague stopped long enough to ask Josiah’s new friend Michelle what she would like and then headed to the bar. A few locals who knew his family well nodded his way but he didn’t engage. He wasn’t in the mood for small talk.
He glanced back at the woman waiting for him and was rewarded with a look he knew all too well. He didn’t have to go home alone—not if he didn’t want to. Maybe a hot night with a willing body was exactly what he needed to ease him out of the funk he was in. If he kept himself busy in the bedroom, it meant less time to lie in the dark and think.
Less time to contemplate the past—the horror of it all—and his screwed up need to reconnect to it. It was all he knew. Too bad all he knew would eventually get him killed.
He ordered a round of drinks and headed back, intent on getting the niceties out of the way so that he could take Candace back to his place and lose himself inside her.
The band was on break and things were a little quieter as Teague and the others dug into their second round of drinks. Josiah had brought back a large helping of ribs and the four of them sampled the garlic and dry rub.
They were good—good but messy. Teague grabbed a napkin to clean his hands and when he glanced up, he caught sight of two very blue and distinct eyes watching him intently. He ignored her, grabbed another rib and finished it. But when he glanced back, she was still watching him. Still alone.
Morgan.
With a frown, Teague straightened and tossed his dirty napkin into the garbage can beside their table, his eyes not leaving the little girl’s. She was in a yellow sundress and the front of it was stained from ribs.
And once again Sabrina was nowhere in sight.
“Is that—“ Josiah asked.
“Yeah,” Teague replied. “I got this.” Weaving through the crowd he didn’t take his eyes off her until he reached her. Morgan clutched at the rope that encircled the beer tent and smiled, cocking her head to the side.
“Who’s that lady?”
Teague glanced over his shoulder. “Her name is Candace.” The redhead was watching him intently—as was Josiah—and Teague swung his gaze back to the little girl.
“Is she your girlfriend?”
“Nope.”
“Is she Mr. Josiah’s girlfriend?”
“Nope.”
“Oh.” Morgan looked puzzled for about two seconds. “So she’s just your friend?”
“I guess you could say that.” Teague looked over Morgan’s head. “You in trouble again?”
She shook her head. “No. Mommy told me to hold on to this rope and not to let go. She said that if anyone tried to take me to scream at the top of my lungs.”
“So where is your mother?” Teague asked.
“Well,” she said with a giggle. “Harry ate way too many ribs. I tolded him he was going to get sick but he didn’t listen. And then he puked on Mommy and on her shoes and she had to take him to the bathroom right there to clean up.” Morgan pointed to the porta-potty a few feet away. He noticed that she kept one hand on the rope and something about that made him smile.
“So you’re behaving yourself,” he said, shoving his hands into the front pockets of his jeans.
Morgan nodded, her eyes serious as she gazed up at him. “Mommy was really mad we left the house this morning without waking her up.”
“She was scared.”
“She said that if we ever do it again, we’re grounded until we go home.”
“Sounds about right.”
Morgan’s eyes widened. “And she said that we weren’t supposed to bug you again. Not even once.”
“Huh.” That was a little extreme and for whatever reason it irritated the hell out of him.
“She said that you wasn’t used to little kids like us and that you probably found us annoying.”
