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“After I stop in to see Bent, that is.”
“I believe it’s just family allowed at the moment.” He turned so there was no mistaking his meaning. “It’s probably for the best that we keep things fairly quiet with Benton and Nora.”
“For the moment,” she said carefully.
He nodded. “For the moment.”
She smiled, though it didn’t warm her ice-blue eyes a bit. “Promise me you’ll let me know when I can get in to see Bent.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“Mike Paul knows where I live.” She waited a few moments. “It was nice meeting you, Cal. I look forward to seeing you soon.” She turned and left them, with Jacklyn and Brittany uttering quick goodbyes before following suit.
He glanced over to Mike Paul, more than a little confused. “That’s the woman Bent’s been hooking up with?”
“Something wrong with your eyes? She’s hot.” His reply was matter-of-fact.
“And trouble.”
Mike Paul shrugged and reached for another wing. “There’s been no one serious since Daisy Mae. Benton’s no different from any other guy. He needed someone to scratch an itch. The kind that don’t go away unless it’s scratched right. She just happened to come along and,” Mike Paul grinned slyly, “her nails are sharp, if you get my meaning. Or so I’ve heard.”
Cal swiped at the corner of his mouth and grabbed up his beer. “Too sharp. If Bent’s not careful, she’ll leave him with scars. The kind that hurt.”
“Kind of like the ones you left on Millie.” The words were quiet, but man, did they dig deep.
Cal eased a sigh and slumped into his chair. “Yeah,” he replied slowly, appetite long gone. “Just like those ones.”
CHAPTER9
Time passed quicklyfor Millie Sue. The bar was packed, people were drinking and eating and spending their cash, and she was nearly run off her feet trying to keep up. It was a good thing, keeping busy. Helped her focus and keep her eyes off the table tucked away in the back. Millie was too busy filling orders and running food to care that Tabitha had made a beeline toward Cal, or that Brandy Davidson had found her way over, as well as Judith McLaren and Angel Saunders. Good God, even Mary Margaret had sashayed over. Bad enough that Tabitha was clearly trying to get her claws into him, but it was Angel she had a problem with.
Angel had been the one he’d—
“Hey, you need to get up there.”
What?
Millie whipped her head up, a half-filled jug of beer in hand, and raised her eyebrow at Taz. With a frown, she shook her head, though she became aware everyone was staring at her.
“Come on, Mills. It’s tradition.”
The voice came from the stage, and she glanced over, a sinking feeling in her stomach when she spied Dave Travis, the best picker in the county and a staple on Thursday nights. His band was a local favorite, and Millie aways hopped on stage for a couple of songs.
Panic.
Cold and hot at the same time made her stomach turn. She tried to smile, holding up the jug she was filling. But before she had a chance to say no, her cousin grabbed it and gently pushed her.
He leaned close and whispered. “You gotta get up there, Millie. He’s looking over here, and you don’t want him to think you’re afraid.”
“I’m not,” she sputtered, “I…” But the shit going on inside her belly told another tale. Millie inhaled slowly and tried to smile as folks began to cheer. She didn’t have to look toward the back to know Cal’s eyes were on her. She felt them. Burning laser beams that watched too closely. Was he thinking about the last time she’d been on stage?With him?
“Screw him,” Taz said, moving closer. “You got this. Sing for me or for John Deere-hat guy who just got rejected by the hot blonde in the tight jeans. Or his buddy who slipped the blonde his number when hat guy wasn’t looking. That’s going to be a problem later, don’t you think?” He winked. “You got this.”
She held his gaze for a heartbeat and nodded. Okay. She could do this. But she wasn’t singing for anyone but herself.
Millie jogged through the crowd, a fake smile pasted to her face, and took the guitar Dave offered her. She strummed a few chords, tweaked the low E, strummed a few more chords, and then began to play. It was like waking memory, being on stage, playing this instrument and singing from her heart. The stage lights shone in her eyes, which made the crowd nothing more than a dark jumble of shadows that moved to the music she was creating. It made it easy for her to block everything out. To blockhimout.
And just sing.
