Hustle Him (Bank Shot Romance #2)(10)
Author: Jennifer Foor

For the next few weeks, I avoided the bar and Sue’s phone calls. I didn’t want to be involved in the accident anymore and I was sure that she was calling to talk to me about why else I hadn’t been by. After exhausting all of the excuses that I could conjure up, I finally had to take her call.

Hello

Ramsey Towers, why haven’t you answered my messages?

Sorry, Sue. I’ve been busy.

Doing what? Lots of cats stuck up in trees?

Is there something that I can do for you?

You’re damn right there is. My niece and her children would like to thank you for what you did for them. I’m making you dinner and you ain’t telling me you can’t come. I know you don’t have plans, so don’t even think about using that as an excuse. Be at my house at six.

Sue…I…

Six sharp.

The woman hung up before I could argue with her. I hated to be put into a position like this to begin with, but to be forced to socialize was even worse. They were going to ask questions and I just didn’t want to have to answer any.

The rest of my afternoon consisted of a six pack of beer and a million excuses of how I could get out of going over to Sue’s place. By the time that six o’clock came around, I was out of beer and ideas, so I showered and headed over.

I’d no sooner pulled up outside when a little boy came running toward me. “How come you didn’t use your siren when you came here.”

I chuckled considering how he thought that police vehicles had to have the siren on at all times. “There wasn’t an emergency.”

“My name is Logan. My birthday is in two weeks and I am going to be six.” When he smiled, I noticed that he was missing a couple teeth.

“Nice to meet you Logan.” I started to walk past the boy.

“What’s your name?”

This kid wasn’t going to let me out of his sight until he was done drilling me. “My name is Ramsey.”

“What kind of name is that? It sounds like a good name for a dog.” He had his hands on his hips waiting for me to reply.

“It was my grandfather’s name.”

“Why?”

Suddenly, a voice cut in to our conversation. His sister, who was a lot taller, came walking toward us. “Don’t pay attention to my brother. He never shuts up.”

“You shut up, Asha! You’re a butthead!”

“I’m telling Mom!” She ran back inside and I could hear her calling out for her mother.

The little guy followed her into the house, so I followed behind him. Sue came walking out of the back of the house with a kitchen towel wrapped around her hand. I could see the red coming through the fabric. “You’re just in time for the entertainment. I seem to have cut my hand pretty bad.”

I’d never been in her house before, but I followed the woman back to a bathroom, where she started running her hand until the faucet. “How’d you do this?”

“Cutting a damn onion. Do you believe that? I’ve been cutting up onions my whole life and when I finally have company over, I manage to cut off half a finger.”

I reached up into the cabinet and helped Sue get her wound clean. While helping her apply a bandage, I heard someone walking up behind us. “How bad is it?”

I turned around to see a very different woman than I had seen lying in that hospital bed. After just a short time her bruises were almost gone. Even where she’d had stitches had healed up nicely. The woman wore little makeup, but what she did have on accented the coolest looking hazel eyes.

When she kept waiting for me to say something, I realized that I had been staring. “Sorry…I think she’s going to be fine. It may be best if one of us does the rest of the cutting.”

She smiled and then turned her attention back to her aunt. “You sure you don’t need stitches?”

“I have survived worse. Let’s just get dinner done and not worry about me.”

I moved out of Sue’s way so she could lead us toward the kitchen. She grabbed a pack of cigarettes and walked toward a sliding glass door. “Everything is ready except for the lasagna. It has about twenty more minutes to go. I’ll be back in when I’m done with this.” She held up her cigarette as she walked out the door.

I placed my hands on the countertop, trying to avoid making eye contact with the woman. She cleared her throat, forcing me to do it anyway. “Cat got your tongue?”

She was an attractive woman and I think she knew it. Her long blonde hair was perfectly straightened and it hung down her back. She was wearing an old Van Halen t-shirt that accented her br**sts. One of her arms was full of tattoos, while her other arm only had ink on the wrist.

Noticing that I was pretty much staring at her chest, I looked up and creased my brows. “I’m not much for conversation.”

“How come? Aren’t you the sheriff? Surely you have to interact with people.” She was putting the plates out on the table as she spoke.

“I do my job and mind my business.”

“Alrighty then.” She turned her back to me and mumbled something.

A long time ago, I would have challenged her attitude. That was the old me. The new me didn’t care what she thought. I just wanted the night to be over with. “Are you feeling better?”

“My head still hurts, but I’m under a lot of stress, so it may not even be from the accident.”

I wasn’t going to ask her business. By asking hers, I would have to explain mine and that was never going to happen.

“I left my old life, if you’re wondering. The kids and me, well, we will survive.”

I didn’t mean to smile, but she had this spunky attitude that was both intriguing to me and also a warning sign that I need to steer clear. I hated that the kids had to be involved in something as major as picking up and leaving. Did they have a father out there somewhere missing them? “Sorry to hear that.”

“Yeah, I bet you are. I just wanted you to know, in case you had any ideas about us hooking up. I’m not interested and it would just be a waste of your time. I know my aunt thinks that you and I could be good friends, but I don’t expect anything from you.”

“I didn’t come here for that. I can assure you that I have no intentions when it comes to you or anyone else. I don’t date and I don’t have friends.” I sounded like a serial killer.

“Then we are on the same page. Good. Now we can enjoy our dinner.” She held her hand out and waited for me to shake it. “My name is Vessa. I’m a recently separated mother of two. I don’t have a pot to piss in, so I moved in with my aunt. That’s my story.”