LITMIR.BIZ

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mind in the least. She wiggled her foot that was clad in red-and-black suede ankle boots against Dean’s thigh. The blatant suggestion wasn’t missed by many.

      Dean winced, pulled his arm back, and scooted off his bar stool, but Sugar only saw the too familiar way in which Maddie was handling her man. She didn’t like it one bit. Sugar leaned between them and grabbed a set of keys from the bar then shoved them into the half apron she wore around her waist. “I’m cutting you off, Maddie. You’ve had too much to drink. I’m calling you a cab.”

      Maddie whipped around, her blond hair flying like a model in a hair commercial—it was too bad Scarlet hadn’t recorded it to use for her salon.

      “Don’t you—”

      “Ladies, please.” Cade’s tone was gentle. Too gentle. Neither one of them heard him.

      Maddie grabbed for Sugar’s arm, but I slid between them as Cade pulled Sugar away.

      “We’ve got this, Sugar. Why don’t you call Maddie a cab?” I asked.

      “I don’t need no stinking cab!” Maddie yelled. “You may have taken my man, but you ain’t taking my keys!” Maddie’s words slurred as she lunged toward Sugar and knocked me back into Cade.

      “I’m not going to let you drive when you have a baby at home.” Sugar jutted her chin out in defiance.

      Finally, Dean stood up and paid attention to what was really happening. “I’ll take you home,” he said. His forty-something face was pinched with worry. Worry that Sugar wouldn’t understand and worry that Maddie would read too much into his offer. But most of all, worry for his child who might end up being a victim to Maddie’s overindulgence and drinking and driving.

      Maddie beamed while Sugar scowled.

      Dean held his hand out for Maddie’s car keys, and for a moment, it looked as though Sugar was going to smack his hand away. The pleading in his eyes, however, changed her mind, and she slammed the keys into his palm before stomping away.

      “Do you want me to take her?” Cade asked.

      I looked at him like he’d lost his mind. The last thing he needed was to get in the middle of this drama. Maddie had a well-earned reputation as a woman who always had a bank account within her sights, and Cade had the biggest bank account in town. Besides, we had enough drama of our own going on.

      Dean shook his head and grabbed Maddie’s arm as she swayed toward him. “No. I got her. This is my mess to clean up.”

      Maddie’s brows drew together, but despite the consternation in her words, her tone was frisky as all get-out. “Are you saying I’m a mess, Dean MacAlister?”

      Dean gave his ex-wife a sad grin. “I’m saying I’m the mess darlin’. Not you, and certainly not Sugar.”

      I didn’t hear Maddie’s response as they made their way to the door, but I saw the anger on Sugar’s face. She was one unhappy girlfriend.

      When I’d first returned to Hazel Rock, Sugar threw a beer in my face because she thought I was making a move on her man. Tonight, I had to give her credit. If anyone deserved to wear the beer sitting on Sugar’s tray, it was Maddie Macalister. Yet, as they walked past Sugar, Dean tipped his ball cap in her direction, and Sugar held her tongue.

      “Why haven’t you returned my calls?” Cade asked, interrupting my observations.

      I turned and looked up at him. “Why didn’t you return my call?”

      “Look at your phone. I’ve called you multiple times since six o’clock.”

      “I’ve been in here since six. Why didn’t you call earlier?”

      “I was catching a flight back home.”

      “Oh. I didn’t know you were out of town. You should have told me.”

      We worked our way back to Scarlet, who had already finished her margarita and was working her way through mine. “I ordered you a double. I figured you could use it.”

      Scarlet was the best friend a woman could ever have.

      Cade pulled out my stool for me and joined us. After Cade placed an order with another waitress for a beer he leaned over and asked, “How much damage did you sustain today?”

      “Most of the books on the second floor are a total loss. Luckily, they’re all used books.”

      “Was anything else damaged?” he asked.

      I knew he was referring to his boxes we had stored in the loft and the tearoom. “The two boxes we put in the loft are a complete loss.”

      Cade sighed. “I suppose the boxes were spilled open and were quite a mess to clean up, huh?”

      Cade wasn’t necessarily concerned about the physical mess, he was worried about the fallout from his stuff being in the Barn. He was a politician through and through.

      “Mateo knows…everything.”

      “That’s it? No one else?” he asked.

      “That’s it. Liza Twaine was too busy worrying about the smell of her clothes. And her hair. And skin.”

      The Cade I knew and loved grinned and began laughing, until the politician in him took over and covered up his smile as he tried to wipe it off his face. The rumble of humor escaped between his fingers.

      “What was in the boxes?” Scarlet asked.

      “Nothing,” Cade and I said in unison.

      Scarlet raised her eyebrows and looked as if she was about to call us out, but Cade steered the conversation in a different direction.

      “You’re going to recycle those books, aren’t you?” Cade had run his campaign with the slogan: A greener Hazel Rock, a greener Texas. Considering our town was mostly brown, it was an appealing promise.

      “Do you think I could?” I asked.

      Cade nodded and took a drink of his beer that had just arrived. “Go see Dallas Dover at the recycling plant. He’s a little crude, but he knows how to get the job done. We gave him the city contract eight months ago. I’m sure he can help you out.”

      Finally, a solution to my problem. I could get rid of the books that smelled worse than roadkill.

      * * * *

      The next morning, I borrowed my Daddy’s truck at the crack of dawn and made my way to the recycling plant located off County Road 57. A couple of trash trucks were in line to turn onto the dirt road that led to the facility on the other side of the hill. It was one of the reasons the people of Hazel Rock had approved the permit for the business. They didn’t particularly want a trash collection site in their neck of the woods—no one did—but Bin Dover Recycling was out of sight and out of mind. It didn’t get any better than that.

      After a guy in a company shirt unhooked a chain from across the drive and waved us through, I followed the two trucks into the lot with a third one behind me. As I passed, I returned the friendly gesture and proceeded down the drive to where it opened up on the backside of the hill into a parking lot. I parked in front of a tan mobile trailer that had two small windows. The backside of the hill had been excavated sometime through the years and the office sat in front of the off-white cliffs. There was no grass around the office, nor were there any bushes. Just the sand rock cliff, the gravel driveway, the parking lot, and huge bins for customers to deposit their recyclables. Two pickup trucks were parked in the lot that I assumed belonged to employees.

      Directly opposite the office sat a large metal building with several large garage doors that led to the sorting area for the recycling. I waited for the trash trucks to park in front of the bins marked glass, paper, and plastic then made my way up the metal staircase of the trailer. A picture of white cliffs with a large green bin sitting in front them was painted on the front of the door of Bin Dover Recycling. It was the same logo they used on their trucks.

      I

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