From the cemetery, they stopped at Coy’s parents’ to express their condolences. They ate a little of the massive spread of food and drinks people had brought over; then the guys changed clothes in Coy’s old childhood bedroom and they headed for a spot called the Bird’s Nest, where Kirby had reserved the back room.
A lot of guys Josh knew were there, some with women, vets Coy had known, friends of his in the Corp, friends of Coy’s who lived in Gainesville. Some of them were drinking beer, some tossing back tequila shooters.
Josh ordered a Jack straight up, wished he could just upend the bottle and drink till he couldn’t feel the pain of losing another friend, but he was driving and Tory was with him.
He caught her around the waist and lifted her up on a bar stool. She peeled off her black suit coat, leaving her in a little peach silk blouse that draped over her pretty breasts and made her look way too sexy, as far as Josh was concerned.
She ordered a Coors Light, sipped the beer, and was a good sport as the guys reminisced about Coy. Josh found himself laughing at the crazy things his friend had done and it really felt good.
“I remember a night at Camp Lejeune before he went spec ops,” Mac said. “We were in this bar called the Queen of Hearts. Coy was drunk when we got there. He spent an hour trying to get this gal to leave with him. Then he goes to the head and when he comes out, one of his best buddies has left with her.”
“Coy was really pissed,” Kirby said. “The other guys were laughing so hard, Coy finally gave up and started laughing, too. Coy was always cool.”
The guys chuckled and even Tory smiled, if a little sadly. The stories went on, began to turn bawdy as the men got drunker.
“Time to leave,” Josh said. “I need to pay the bill; then we’re out of here.”
Unfortunately, on the way out of the bar, a drunken cowboy found Tory a little too appealing.
“What’s your name, sweet thing?” He was big, good-looking if he hadn’t been so wasted.
“She’s with me,” Josh warned, urging her forward, but the cowboy blocked her way.
“He don’t own you, sweetheart.” He leered, stuck out his hand. “Name’s Cody. You wanna dance? What do you say?”
Josh clamped down on his temper.
Tory politely refused. “Thanks, Cody, but at the moment, I’m not available.”
“Aw, come on.” The cowboy shouldn’t have grabbed her, shouldn’t have pushed his luck, not when Josh was wound tighter than a calf roper’s pigging string. Not when he was just itching to work off some of his frustrations.
Grabbing the cowboy by the front of his western shirt, Josh drew back to punch him, but Mac caught his arm.
“Take it easy, Superman. Guy’s just drunk and your girl’s real pretty. Give the dude a break.”
He sighed. Mac was right. He wasn’t usually like this. He was usually fairly even tempered, and he’d never been this possessive of a woman.
Pulling his arm free, he shoved the guy a couple of feet away. The cowboy swore foully, but didn’t come back for more.
“Sorry,” Josh said to Mac.
“Wouldn’t take much to have all of us in a fight. We’d probably feel better if we did.”
Josh knew he would. He felt Tory’s hand in his. “Come on, soldier. Time to go.”
He didn’t argue. Even better than a fistfight would be taking Victoria Bradford to bed.
*
Knowing it was past time to leave, Tory led Josh out to his truck. She stuck out her hand, palm up. “Give me the keys.”
“I’m all right. I didn’t drink that much.”
“Kirby bought you another shot of Jack and you had a couple of beers. Just to be safe, give me the keys.”
One of his eyebrows went up. “You sure you can drive this thing?”
“Sure. I worked on an ad for Ford trucks. I had an idea to appeal to female drivers, but I wanted to test it out. I drove a big dually, didn’t have a lick of trouble.”
He grunted. “You’re just full of surprises.” He dropped the keys into her hand. “She’s all yours.”
Tory climbed in behind the wheel and adjusted the seat while Josh climbed in on the passenger side, and they strapped themselves in.
From the Bird’s Nest, Tory drove to a nearby Holiday Inn where Josh had made a reservation, getting the directions from Siri on his iPhone. As the truck cruised along the street, she shot him a sideways glance. He was leaning back in the seat watching her, amusement touching his lips.
“What?”
“I never thought a woman could look cute driving a truck.”
She laughed. “I don’t look cute. I look competent. Behave yourself.”
His smile broadened into a grin. “You know you don’t mean that.” He was flirting. He didn’t do it often. She really liked it.
She parked the pickup. They grabbed their overnight bags and went into the motel lobby, walked up to a young man in a white shirt and skinny black tie.
“May I help you?”
“Reservation for Joshua Cain.”
The clerk pulled it up on his computer. “Here it is. I’ll need a credit card.”
Josh fished his Visa out of his wallet and tossed it on the counter.
The clerk ran it and frowned. “I’m sorry, sir, the card was denied. Would you like to try another one?”
“There’s nothing wrong with the card. Try it again.”
The clerk tried it, looked embarrassed this time. “I’m sorry.”
Josh grumbled, took out his American Express. “No limit on this one.”
The clerk smiled and ran the card. The hand that held on to the credit card trembled. “Apparently, there’s a . . . umm . . . problem with this one, too. They’re instructing me to hold on to the card. I’m very sorry, sir. I don’t have any choice.”
“They’re telling you to keep my credit card? That’s crazy. It must be your machine.”
“I don’t think so.”
Tory opened her wallet and took out her Mastercard. “Let’s see if this one works.” She had paid it off months ago, been afraid to use it since. The billing address was a mailbox in Carlsbad and she’d kept it that way.
Josh snatched the card out of her hand. “No way.” He handed it back to her. “You’re not paying for the goddamn motel room.”
He returned his attention to the clerk, opened his wallet to take out a handful of bills. “It’s only for tonight. How much is it?”
“I’m afraid for security reasons, we don’t take cash.”
Tory could see Josh’s rising temper in the lines digging into his forehead. “Get your manager out here,” he said.
As if someone had pulled his string, the manager, a heavyset man with a mustache and double chins, appeared behind the counter. “Is there a problem?”
“Something’s wrong with your credit card machine. How much for a room?”
The manager turned to the computer screen. “A king-size, non-smoking is one hundred thirty-five dollars, plus taxes and fees. Comes to one fifty-seven and thirty-seven cents. We have a strict rule against taking cash, but—”
He looked Josh over, took in his clean-shaven face and short dark hair, the prime physical condition he was in and the way he carried himself. “Military?” the manager asked.
“Marines.”
“In your case, we can make an exception, and I thank you for your service.”
Josh relaxed. “It’s a mistake. There’s nothing wrong with my credit cards, but thank you, anyway.” He paid the amount due. They grabbed their bags and headed up to the room.
Tory figured tomorrow Josh could get things straightened out.
It wasn’t until they got back to Iron Springs that Josh discovered it wasn’t just his credit cards that were a problem. His bank accounts had been cleaned out and his loan on the ranch was now in foreclosure.
And Tory knew exactly who to blame.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Tory knew what to do to straighten out Josh’s accounts—Damon had done the same thing to her.
After she had left Phoenix and moved to Houston, Damon had immediately begun to harass her. He must have had a friend who knew how to hack into computer systems because he managed to destroy her credit, run up her cards, and empty her bank accounts.
He had even been brazen enough to admit he’d done it, though she never had any proof. He just wanted her to come home, he’d said. He’d make everything right if she just came back to him.