The Trouble With Tomboys(11)

She pointed her steak knife at him and, with her cheek full of meat, said, “You sure you’re not hungry?”

He shook his head.

29







“Need an aspirin?”

That earned her a sharp glance, his eyes a little shocked, probably because she’d noticed his pain.

But he answered, “I’m fine.”

“Great,” she said sarcastically. “Well, then, if everything’s just hunky-dory, order yourself another beer.” She nudged his empty container with the fork in her other hand. “Your bottle’s empty.”

Grady looked equally surprised he’d finished his entire drink.

As the waitress approached, B.J. pointed at both their empties. “We need refills please, ma’am.”

She’d downed two more by the time she

swallowed her last bite. Feeling relaxed and loose around the tongue, she grinned at Grady and sat back in her seat, patting her flat belly. “Let me ask you something, Slim. If it’s too personal, just tell me to shove off. ’Kay?”

He looked at her warily. “It’s too personal.”

She laughed and leaned forward, her voice low and confidential. “But I haven’t even asked yet.”

He edged a centimeter back. “If you think it might be too personal, then it is.”

“Yeah,” she agreed morosely. “You are a sight more modest than I am.” Then she ordered them both another round as the waitress came to clear her last plate.

“I don’t want any more,” Grady informed the

woman.

“I’ll drink his for him,” B.J. spoke up.

He pinned her with a disapproving wince like he wanted to warn her to slow down. But he kept his thoughts to himself, which made B.J. want to blurt out all of hers.

“You see, the thing is,” she said. “I’m curious, is all. I want to know if the first time you were with another woman after...you know, after Amy died, did you feel guilty like...like you were cheating on her or 30



The Trouble with Tomboys



anything? Did you have to close your eyes and imagine her face?”

Grady just stared at her; B.J. lifted a hand in apology.

“Okay, I know,” she slurred. “‘Shut the hell up, B.J.’”

She made a zipping motion across her closed

mouth but then kept talking. “I just thought that would have to be the hardest thing to deal with after your spouse passed on. Admitting you’re still alive even though they’re not and having to move on without ’em... God.” She shivered. “That must’ve sucked. How long did you wait before you slept with someone else?”

Grady’s mouth fell open. “Excuse me?”

“How long—”

“I heard you the first time,” he growled, his lips barely moving.

“Then why aren’t you…”

Her question died at the vulnerable flicker in his blue eyes. But then his jaw hardened and his nostrils flared. He jerked his gaze away, and she watched his throat work while he swallowed.

Suddenly, it became clear.

“Oh...my...God,” she whispered, stunned mute for a moment before she was able to yelp, “Holy shit, Slim. You mean, you haven’t had sex since—”

She realized she was talking too loud when a couple at the next table over stopped eating to send her a scandalized scowl. Grady glared at her like he might reach across the table and strangle her.

She lowered her voice to a hiss and leaned

across the table. “Good God. Amy’s been dead for over two years.”

“I know exactly how long it’s been,” he snapped, his eyes flashing hot.

B.J. pulled away immediately, realizing how

rude and obnoxious she sounded. “Okay, okay,” she 31







said. “I’m backing off. I’ve definitely overstepped my bounds.”

She closed her mouth, shutting up for about two seconds before she said, “It’s just... damn. What’re you trying to do to yourself? Win the monk of the year award?”

Through gritted teeth, the words “I thought you said you were backing off,” rumbled from deep within his chest.

But B.J. had drunk one beer too many. “Well, I can’t, okay. Frankly, I’m worried about you. I mean, Jesus, Slim. This is not healthy. Men have to have sex. I grew up with four guys. I know. They can’t function without it. You just need to find some anonymous woman and get yourself laid, man.”

Grady made a sound that wasn’t quite an

incredulous laugh and not quite a sob. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this.” He lifted his eyes and defensively retorted, “Guys go without sex all the time.”

“Yeah,” B.J. snorted. “They’re called priests. And priests aren’t the normal, average guy. They got some extra spiritual thing going on that makes them high on God and not women. Now, you may be a good Christian boy and all, but you ain’t that holy.