Home > Play It Safe(18)

Play It Safe(18)
Author: Kristen Ashley

As with the department store, I didn’t think Mustang could sustain a library, not one like this. But on the basement level, I heard a bunch of kids, young ones, so obviously the school did field trips there. And it couldn’t be said, perusing the shelves, there weren’t a variety of old folks obviously on fixed incomes looking for free entertainment, same with a few housewives whose husbands clearly had trouble making ends meet so the romance novel addiction couldn’t be assuaged by purchases but instead borrowing.

I was there to borrow but I didn’t have a library card. My book would make it to my purse. I read fast and I had all night. I’d return it in the outside return tray I saw when I walked in. I wasn’t a thief, I was a hustler. But even if I was a thief, I’d never steal from a library.

With love blooming for Casey and an indeterminate stay in Mustang, we had to be even more careful with money. This meant I couldn’t buy a book, definitely, or even any magazines which were really just throwing money away. I was not going back to the bar, no way. And if there was nothing on TV, which, from experience, there really never was, I’d need something to keep me from being bored.

I found my book, slid it into my purse and smiled brightly and openly at the librarian as I walked out. I might not be a thief but, as mentioned, I was a hustler. To hustle, you learned what to hide and what not to hide. Game face. If you acted flakey and secretive, the jig would be up.

I figured the same thing for illegally borrowing library books and I figured right. The librarian smiled brightly back and I took off.

Down the block, across the street and in the square, I saw Casey heading my way, big smile on his face with a huge bouquet of flowers in his hand. More than a twenty dollar bouquet which meant it was probably thirty or even, looking at it, forty. I had no clue. I’d never bought flowers or received them. But that looked like a lot of flowers.

This meant he was going to hit me up for more money.

Again.

I was considering asking him for the car so I could drive a couple of towns over (maybe three), find a bar and do a flash hustle. One-nighter, no Casey casing the joint, setting up the mark then calling me in. Just lots of bending over pool tables pretending I didn’t know what I was doing, lots of time watching stupid men drink whisky and watch me then I’d take their money. I did it and often. This usually didn’t pull down much. Sometimes twenty, usually fifty, if I was lucky and the guy was a moron with a wad of cash, a hundred or even two.

But I figured it was too hot. Who knew what Bud Sharp and his sidekicks were spreading around and how far that would reach? Also, who knew how long this crush would last for Casey and how long we needed to keep our noses clean.

Hells bells.

My brother was half a block away, still grinning like a loon carrying his flowers, heading toward me when suddenly I wasn’t walking toward him anymore.

Instead, an arm hooked my waist, my body shifted, my forward momentum shifted with it and I found myself slamming front-to-front into a long, hard frame.

I knew that jacket. I knew that scarf.

I looked up.

Gray.

He was grinning and his was huge too, dimple and everything.

“You didn’t leave.”

Hells bells!

“Uh –” I mumbled.

“Yo! Bro! Can I help you?”

I turned my head and saw that Casey was right there. Then I turned my head again and saw that Gray had turned to my brother.

“Hey,” he greeted, extending a hand to my brother. “I’m Gray.”

“And I’m tickled pink,” Casey returned rudely. “Now, you wanna get your hands off my sister?”

Gray looked at Casey then down at me. I tried to move out of the curve of his arm.

It tightened.

Oh dear.

Gray looked back at my brother.

“I’ll repeat, I’m Gray. Gray Cody, a friend of Ivey’s,” Gray stated, still attempting civility but he’d dropped his hand.

“Ivey doesn’t have any friends,” Casey returned and, like a spasm, Gray’s arm curled even tighter around me.

He was silent and I looked between the two of them seeing they were in stare down on the sidewalk in the town square.

This was not good.

“Uh –” I began again.

“You’re wrong,” Gray said quietly. “She does. Me.”

I battled and succeeded and therefore didn’t bite my lip.

Casey’s eyes sliced to me. “You know this guy?”

“I told you someone stepped in last night and that someone was Gray,” I answered carefully but not carefully enough.

And this was when I knew Casey had made assumptions. Casey assumed that some out-of-shape barfly had taken my back. Casey had not considered that a young, tall, handsome man with a confident manner and a natural authority had stepped up for me.

If Casey considered this, we would be three and a half hours out of Mustang, him falling in love with a class act or not.

His eyes narrowed on me and I felt their sting. This was because Casey found this a betrayal. He said no connections. He demanded I play it safe. And me making a friend, even against my will, with a handsome stranger was not playing it safe to Casey.

Then they cut to Gray. “Right then, got my gratitude, bro. Now I’m on duty, move along.”

Gray didn’t move along. Gray didn’t tear his eyes from Casey and I didn’t know him all that well but you didn’t need to to know he really didn’t like what he was seeing.

Then Gray’s eyes flicked to the flowers and back to Casey’s face before he said low, “Shoulda been on duty last night…” pause then, “bro.”

Oh jeez.

Casey’s back went straight or, I should say, straight-er.

“All’s well that ends well,” he clipped and Gray shook his head. Once.

“I reckon you know, bein’ a guy and all, you’re her brother but you’re also obviously not blind. She’s out, way she looks, way she moves, even havin’ a quiet night, keepin’ to herself, that shit might happen. That shit happened. You were not on duty. I wasn’t around, shit coulda got worse,” Gray pointed out.

“Well, it didn’t,” Casey shot back. “And as I said, got my gratitude. Now, I’m here and, can’t say it straighter, in two seconds, you’re not.”

This was all happening right there, right with me right there.

But all I could think was…

The way I look?

The way I move?

Casey was wrong. In two seconds, Gray was not gone.

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