For You (The 'Burg #1)(178)

Therefore Colt bit back a smile before he replied, “Book tours.”

Greed suffused her face and her grin turned to a smile.

“Exclusive?” she pressed his promise.

“I’ll talk to Sully.” And he would talk to Sully and maybe Sully would give it to her, if he felt generous but that was doubtful. Colt wasn’t going to go after the Feds. They might talk, they might not. They wanted to seal their retirement by resigning and making their own deals, he wasn’t going to hand them to Monica.

Luckily, she didn’t think to pursue that.

“I’ll be expecting your call to confirm,” she said.

“Don’t. I won’t call. This is trust or we got nothin’.” Sully might screw her, Colt knew, and he had no problem with that since he intended to do it himself.

“You think I’ll leave with that?” she asked.

“Life is risk, what I’m tellin’ you, this one is worth takin’.”

She stared at him longer than was comfortable but Colt withstood it. Then she reached out and clutched his arm one more time before turning and walking away.

Colt had no idea if he’d contained her or not but he hoped he did. It was Saturday, the Gazette didn’t run until Wednesday. Denny would probably be caught by then, God willing. She shopped this to The Star, it was likely they’d screw her and hand it to someone on staff. They had far better resources than Monica and the Gazette. They wouldn’t give her access to those, no way they’d work with her and she likely knew it. She was f**ked if she tipped it now.

“Need to call the janitor, mop up the slime trail she left,” Betsy commented from beside him, Colt turned and grinned at her.

“Tell him to prepare, Bets, another coupla days we’ll be drippin’ with it.”

“Can’t wait,” she muttered.

Colt laughed quietly then said, “Later.”

She turned to him and her annoyance fled, light hitting her eyes before she said, “Have fun with Feb.”

Colt shook his head, waved at Betsy, put Monica out of his mind and headed to the door which would lead him to J&J’s.

* * * * *

Colt sat on his stool, Jack and Morrie in front of him behind the bar, all of them sipping bourbon through their smiles.

Dee was at the middle of the bar with Jackie. Dee was cat calling, Jackie slamming her palms on the top of the bar like everyone else who sat or stood the length of it. The rest of the bar was clapping, whooping, whistling, stomping or some combination of the four.

All eyes were at the floor space in the middle of the bar where Feb was being swung around to Bob Seger’s “Betty Lou’s Gettin’ Out Tonight” by none other than f**king Joe-Bob.

Colt had known Joe-Bob a good long while and he’d only ever seen the man sway to the bathroom, lurch out the door or stumble down the sidewalk.

Now he was moving like he did it for a living, he loved his job and he was damn good at it. Feb’s hair was flying out everywhere and she was laughing out loud, trying to keep up with Joe-Bob as he twisted her, twirled her and spun her around. The old guy knew what he was doing and he was loving it just as much as Feb. His body jumping and jerking with the rhythm, totally in control of Feb and he was grinning like a fool, having the time of his life.

Seger was pulling out the stops and so was Joe-Bob just as Jack shouted loud, “That’s my girl!”

Feb threw a bright smile their way before Joe-Bob gave her a jerk of the arm, whirled her in then sent her back out flying before he spun her with one hand over head, the other hand catching her hip to keep her going and going. Then he pulled her to a stop, yanked her in his arms and twirled them both round and round before stopping with Feb in his arms and he held on tight as the piano gave its final flourish. Feb held him back, cheek to cheek, giving him a big hug.

Jack had closed down the jukebox in order to play Seger’s crowd pleasing “Nine Tonight Live” and Bob and the Silver Bullet Band went straight into “We’ve Got Tonight”. Joe-Bob immediately began swaying with Feb in his arms as she held on tight.

Colt watched this for approximately half a second. He knew he should give Joe-Bob his moment but Joe-Bob could have another moment another night. Tonight was Alexander Colton’s night to slow dance with February Owens.

He put down his bourbon and headed toward the couple. As he moved, all eyes came to him. By this time, Colt was used to it, he couldn’t give a f**k and he kept right on walking.

Joe-Bob saw him, lifted his chin then pushed Feb out for another, slower twirl, stopping her facing Colt then giving her a gentle shove in Colt’s direction.

She didn’t need any prompting. She moved into his arms with a small smile over her shoulder at Joe-Bob and a bigger one for Colt when she turned back to him. Colt slid his hands around her waist, crossing them at the back, resting them at opposite hips, gaining full body contact. She curled both her arms around his shoulders, the fingers of one hand going into his hair as her h*ps found his rhythm. Colt bent his neck so his temple was pressed against her hair and she tilted her head so her cheek was pressed to his jaw.

They didn’t speak, they just moved. Colt found himself marveling at the fact that she fit him so perfectly, fell into his rhythm like it was the most natural thing in the world, as if she was born to slow dance in his arms.

Then again, that had always been the way with Colt and Feb. Always.