Serving Trouble(42)

Her head swam with what-­ifs and she headed for the bar.

“What’s wrong with your cows?” another man called. “It’s not even one in the morning.”

“On a Sunday,” Noah muttered. But then he raised his voice and called out, “Sorry. The dishwasher is broken.”

Caroline. He’s rushing to her rescue tonight.

“Oh, Noah,” she murmured, her voice too low to be heard over the grumbling customers. “You can’t save everyone.”

Just like she couldn’t keep stumbling into heartbreak and then putting herself back together.

One day I’ll just be broken.

No, she needed to steer clear of another night in the barn with Noah. Even if it meant begging him to feed and water the kittens for her. And she should probably leave her new toy in her locker. She didn’t even want to risk closing her eyes and dreaming about him while alone in her bedroom with a silicone penis.

“Josie, I’m going to run Caroline home,” he said as he slipped out from behind the bar. He paused and glanced back at her. “Are you OK to stay and help close up? I’ll come back for you after I drop her off.”

She nodded and met him by the door to the back room. Keeping her voice low, she whispered, “Did something happen?”

“Our dishwasher aimed at a raccoon by the Dumpster when she took the trash out,” he said wearily. “She’s on edge and armed. I need to get her out of here before she does something stupid.” He ran his hand through his short blond hair. “And hell, maybe I should start paying her not to clean the dishes or set foot anywhere near the bar.”

“But then how would you keep an eye on both of us?” She hoped to make him laugh, or even smile. But he just shook his head and put on his doom-­and-­gloom expression.

“I don’t know, Josie,” he said. “I don’t know.”

“NOAH, BEFORE I get in your truck, I think you should know . . .” Josie paused midspeech and drew a deep breath. She stood with one hand on the open truck door and the other on her hip. The bar was at her back, dark and locked up for the night.

What now?

What more could he possibly add to his middle-­of-­the-­night to-­do list? He needed to send another message to Dominic because the first one hadn’t led to an A-­OK response, and Chief Fairmore had looked pretty damn worried. Then he planned to search the woods around his childhood home for his former commanding officer. And shit, someone needed to feed and water the fucking kittens. All that before falling dead asleep for a few hours, getting up and opening the damn bar again.

“I left the vibrator in my locker,” she said, her tone practically daring him to demand that she march back into Big Buck’s and get it. Because tonight was the perfect night to say “screw you” to the ­people he needed to help and focus on sexual fantasies and orgasms.

He eyed Josie. Beauty and determination were one hell of a turn-­on. It might not be such a bad idea. After all, who was he to play the hero?

“Josephine Fairmore, get in the damn car. I’m not leaving you alone in a parking lot beside your broken-­down car just because you don’t want to share your toys. I was planning to take you back to your dad’s place anyway.”

Because I really need to get started on my list.

“Turning in early?” she challenged in a voice that said I wasn’t born yesterday. She climbed into the truck and secured her seat belt.

“No.” He pulled out of the parking lot and headed for the main road while he filled her in on his plans for the remaining hours before sunrise.

“You’re really worried about Dominic?” she asked softly when he’d finished.

“I think your brother can take care of himself. But I don’t like seeing your father worried. And right now, I can’t have Forever’s chief of police dropping into the bar and asking questions. If Caroline had pulled the trigger on that raccoon, if everyone in the bar heard a gunshot tonight? The police would be everywhere. And she’d be headed for a jail cell.”

They rode in silence for a few minutes, passing through Forever’s dark and quiet downtown.

“Did you take away her gun again?” she asked.

“Yes.” He accelerated as they reached the town limits. “I hadn’t realized how close to the edge she was. But the stress has done a number on her. She’s more likely to get herself hurt, hit an innocent bystander, or even you. And I can’t let that happen.”

“I’m glad you took away her gun,” Josie said slowly as he turned down her driveway.

He fought the urge to press on the gas and fly over the gravel to her house, kick her out of the truck, and speed away. If he didn’t get her out of here soon, he might reach for her.