Heaven, Texas (Chicago Stars #2)(18)

“I guess all of us have wondered why you never got married.”

“Now you know, honey.”

This was clearly a private conversation and Gracie knew she should find a more distant vantage point. Firmly repressing her curiosity, she began to step away only to pause as Trish spoke again.

“Nobody should have to grow up with a mother who’s a—Well, a mother like that.”

“You can say it, Trish. My mother was a hooker.”

Gracie’s eyes widened.

Trish’s sultry voice was filled with sympathy. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

Bobby Tom sighed. “Sometimes it helps to talk about things. You might not understand this, but the worst wasn’t having her bring men home at night or not even knowing who my father was. The worst was having her show up at my high school games all drunk with her makeup smeared. She’d be wearing rhinestone earrings and pants so tight everybody could see she didn’t have anything on under them. Nobody else wore high heels to Friday night games, but my mother did. She was the trashiest woman in Telarosa, Texas.”

“What happened to her?”

“She’s still there. still smoking cigarettes, drinking whiskey, and turning tricks whenever the mood hits her. No matter how much money I give her, it doesn’t make any difference. Once a hooker, always a hooker, I guess. But she’s my mother, and I love her.”

Gracie was touched by his loyalty. At the same time, she felt a deep anger toward the woman who had so dreadfully abused her maternal responsibilities. Maybe his mother’s unsavory lifestyle explained his reluctance to return to Telarosa.

It had grown quiet in the alcove, and she risked peeking around the corner only to wish she’d stayed put. Trish had wrapped herself around Bobby Tom like a fallen awning. As the beautiful, dark-haired woman kissed him, everything inside Gracie went soft and weak. Despite the fact that she knew she was wishing for the stars, she wanted to be the one pressed against that strong, hard body. She wanted to be the type of woman who felt free to soul kiss Bobby Tom Denton.

She leaned against the wall and squeezed her eyes shut, fighting a rush of yearning both poignant and painful. Would a man ever kiss her like that?

Not any man, her devil whispered. A Texas playboy with a wicked reputation.

She took a deep breath and told herself not to be foolish. There was no sense crying for the moon when good solid earth was the best she could ever hope for.

“Trish? Where is that bitch?”

Her reverie came to an abrupt end at the sound of a belligerent, drunken voice, and she saw a burly, dark-haired man descending on Bobby Tom and Trish from the entrance to the bar.

Trish’s eyes widened with alarm. Bobby Tom quickly stepped forward, shielding her behind him. “Damn, Warren, I thought you died from rabies a long time ago.”

Warren puffed up his barrel chest and swaggered forward. “If it isn’t Mr. Pretty Boy. Sucked any cocks lately?”

Gracie gasped, but Bobby Tom just grinned. “I sure haven’t, Warren, but if anybody asks me to, I’ll send them right over to you first thing.”

Warren obviously didn’t appreciate Bobby Tom’s sense of humor. With a menacing growl, he took a drunken lurch forward.

Trish drew her knuckles to her mouth. “Don’t make him mad, B.T.”

“Aw, honey, Warren won’t get mad. He’s too dumb to know when he’s been insulted.”

“I’m gonna take your head off, pretty boy.”

“You’re drunk, Warren!” Trish exclaimed. “Please go away.”

“Shut up, you f*cking whore!”

Bobby Tom sighed. “Now why’d you have to go and call your ex-wife something evil like that?” With a motion so fast that Gracie almost missed it, he drew back his fist and hit Warren in the jaw.

Trish’s ex-husband sprawled to the floor with a howl of pain, and the crowd at the bar immediately circled the two men, temporarily shutting off Gracie’s view. She elbowed her way between several of the women. By the time she got to the front, Warren had scrambled to his feet, one hand to his jaw.

Bobby Tom stood with his hands lightly splayed on his hips. “I sure wish you were sober, Warren, so we could make this more interesting.”

“I’m sober, Denton.” A surly Neanderthal who could have been Warren’s womb mate lumbered forward. “What happened against the Raiders last year, *? You played like shit. Were you having your period?”

Bobby Tom looked as delighted as if someone had just given him a Christmas present. “Now this is getting interesting.”

To Gracie’s relief, Bobby Tom’s friend Shag took a step into the center of the circle, pushing up his sleeves at the same time. “Two against one, B.T. I don’t like the odds.”

Bobby Tom waved him away. “No need to get your hair messed up, Shag. These boys are looking for a little exercise, and so am I.”

The Neanderthal swung. Bobby Tom’s reflexes didn’t seem to have been affected by his bad knee. He ducked and caught his opponent in the ribs with his fist. The man doubled over, just as Warren pitched forward and drove his shoulder into Bobby Tom’s side.

Bobby Tom staggered, righted himself, and delivered a hard punch to the abdomen that sent Trish’s ex to the floor. He showed no inclination to get back up.