Page 6 of Cowboy of Convenience
"Don't be." Grady glanced down the sidewalk, making sure the asshat was really gone. "I think he’s going to go tell on you."
"Probably." Evelyn’s shoulders slumped and she suddenly looked defeated. "I don't even care."
"I take it your grandmother isn't as big of a threat as the women across the street at the bar." He glanced over, listening for any sign that all hell was breaking loose in The Creekery.
There was a group of out-of-town cowboys milling around inside looking for excitement, and possibly a little tail, and there was no telling how it would shake out. Especially with Evelyn’s friends added into the equation.
Evelyn sighed. "Oh, no. She's terrifying."
Grady chuckled. "So she's exactly like the women across the street in the bar."
Since coming to town, Evelyn had landed herself smack dab in the middle of Moss Creek’s geriatric girl gang, securing the much revered position of designated driver and old lady handler. It had almost landed her in the back of his cruiser on more than a few occasions.
Almost, but not quite.
Evelyn's eyes drifted across the street. "Actually, she's nothing like them." Her eyes moved back to him and she gave him a soft smile. "Thanks again for doing that. I'll let you get back to your shift." Evelyn turned away, fishing out the keys to her shop as she headed for the door.
Grady followed behind her. "Maybe I should stick around. Make sure he doesn't come back."
Evelyn's eyes widened as they jumped to his and then darted down the street, searching the area like it hadn't occurred to her that he might linger. "Shit."
Grady gripped the mic clipped to his shoulder, letting dispatch know he was going to be tied up for a while. Dispatch, also known as Linda, wouldn't be surprised considering they all expected him to spend his night dealing with whatever unfolded down here. They just all expected it to be cowboy or old woman based.
This was a much better alternative.
Evelyn’s shoulders slumped. "Maybe I should just go home."
"That's fine. I can follow you. Make sure nobody tails you." As far as he knew, Evelyn was alone here. No family. No friends outside of the women across the street and Amelie, the artist friend Sasha mentioned—another New York transplant who lived miles away out at Cross Creek Ranch with her husband Troy and their baby. That left Evelyn with very few people she could count on to help her with something like this.
Someone like this.
"I have to drive the girls home." Evelyn reached up to squeeze her forehead with one hand. "And they’re probably shit-faced at this point."
"I'll call Cooper. He can come get them." Grady called Linda in dispatch again, sending Cooper to The Creekery to collect one of Moss Creek’s most entertaining entourages.
Evelyn stared at him, her jaw slack.
Grady lifted a brow. “What?”
Her lips clamped together. “Nothing.” Her eyes swung from one side to the other. “Thank you, I guess?”
Grady froze, realizing he’d overstepped about two minutes too late.
Like usual.
“Lin, hang on.” He released the mic on his shoulder and moved closer to Evelyn. “I’m not trying to take over. I just want to make your life easier.”
Evelyn’s gaze skimmed over his face. “I know.” She glanced back at the bar. “I just feel bad pawning the girls off on someone else. You know how they get when they’ve been drinking.”
“I do.” He’d had to break up more than a few fights thanks to the women sitting in The Creekery. “But I’m pretty sure Cooper can handle them.”
Evelyn didn’t seem convinced. “Muriel can be kind of a puker if she sneaks some of Gertrude’s tequila.” She chewed her lower lip for a second. “And she always sneaks Gertrude’s tequila.”
“Hell.” Grady raked one hand through the short length of hair on the top of his head. “So you’d rather she puke in your car than in Cooper’s?”
Evelyn made a face. “No.” She huffed out a soft laugh. “We have a system.”
“A system?” Grady crossed both arms over his chest. “Now this I gotta hear.”
