Page 13 of Welcome Home, Cowboy
“You’re not fooling anyone, bro.” Griffin accepted a beer from the waitress, who also slid a soda in front of Lawson.
“Here you go, sweetheart,” she said, batting those long, black lashes at him again. Yeah, back in the day he’d have asked for her number.
“I’m fine,” he told his friend.
“You’re full of shit is what you are.” Griffin suppressed a grin and took a swig of his brewski. “We’re fellow Marines. That makes us brothers. And brothers look out for each other.”
Lawson rolled his eyes. “Would it ease your mind if I were drinking too much and sleeping around with loose women?”
Griffin considered this. “That is what you did before. So yeah. That would make me feel like all was well in the world.”
Lawson couldn’t argue that point. “I’m fine,” he said again, turning to steal another glance at Julie. As much as he’d tried, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. Even if she’d made it very clear how she felt about sharing space with him. This morning she’d practically run out of the café without finishing her breakfast.
“Send her a drink,” Griffin suggested, knocking his elbow into Lawson’s upper arm on the table.
Lawson didn’t feel the need to respond. Instead, he diverted the attention away from him and nodded at Micah, who sat across from them. “How’s married life?”
“Amazing,” Micah supplied, leaning back in his chair. Like a lovesick puppy, he couldn’t take his eyes off his new wife across the room. Lawson wanted to find it disgusting, but he was happy for his friend.
“That’s great,” he said. Micah deserved to be happy, deserved the best things that life had to offer.
He, on the other hand, didn’t. That’s the way he felt at least.
“I hate to put a damper on things, guys, but Bill Johnson has his sights on Melanie Harris from the diner.” Griffin tipped his head across the room.
All three men turned to look at the tall, muscular man with blond, buzzed hair. He was with a woman that the men lovingly referred to as Stalker Mel. She tended to latch on to any guy who gave her half a second of attention and then, coincidentally, or not, seemed to show up everywhere that guy went for the next month.
“Who wants to stop Stalker Mel from being this guy’s latest victim?” Griffin asked, his jaw clenched tight and his eyes stony.
“Depends on which one of us wants to be the object of Mel’s stalkerish affections for the next year.” Micah shook his head. “I’m married now. Kat won’t like Mel coming around.”
Griffin held up his hands. “Not it,” he called. “I was it last time. The woman scares me a little.”
Micah and Griffin both looked at Lawson.
Tag, I’m it.
“Fine.” Lawson pushed up from his seat. “But you guys watch my back. If BJ so much as looks at me wrong, I’m likely to drag him outside.” And that would be another strike against him with his commander.
“You got it,” both guys chimed.
Lawson nodded, turned, and started walking toward BJ and Mel’s escalating flirtation. He’d seen how BJ operated. BJ was a good-looking guy that women seemed to fall all over themselves for, just like Mel was doing right now. He peppered them with compliments and bought them drinks to their heart’s content. Then he brought them home. More like carried them home because after he got them drunk, they could barely stand. They were incapable of walking, driving, or consenting to whatever BJ did with them once they left. Mel drove pretty much every single guy in town insane, but she didn’t deserve the likes of BJ. No one did.
“I thought I told you I didn’t want to see you talking to another woman in this place, Johnson.” Lawson folded his arms in front of his chest.
“And I told you where you could go,” Johnson said, not bothering to look up.
Lawson shook his head. “I’d hate to have to tell your friend here how you treat women. She might just take that drink you bought her and splash it in your face.” And boy, what he wouldn’t give to see that.
Mel giggled as if he’d told a joke. This wasn’t a joke. Messing with BJ was serious. His behavior bordered on illegal, in Lawson’s mind. Especially if Johnson was slipping anything extra in the women’s drinks, which Lawson had a hunch he might be.
“Are you guys fighting over me?” Mel asked, obviously tipsy already. Tipsy and delusional.
The waitress stepped up and set another drink on the table. “Here’s your drink,” she said, looking at BJ. The dirtbag’s eyes grazed over her.
“Yum!” Mel started to lift the glass.
Lawson took it out of her hand. “Sorry, but I think you’re done here. Why don’t you let me take you home?”
