enjoying a hearty breakfast with a sizzling hot cowboy who understood just how to treat a lady, Shirlene had come to a couple realizations: One, extra weight or no extra weight, she still had it. And two, it was very unlikely that a chainsaw-wielding midget had taken off with her wallet, especially when he had left her checkbook, her expensive cell phone, and a wad of cash. Which meant her wallet had probably fallen out when she dropped her purse on the front steps.
All she had to do now was find it.
“Come on, Piglet,” she tried to coax Sherman out of the SUV. “Bubba was probably right. It was just some neighbor trying out his new chainsaw.”
But being that Sherman was smarter than the averagepig, he saw straight through the lie and, with a grunt, refused to budge from the seat.
“Some watch pig you are,” she huffed. Still, she left the door open just in case the pig decided to come to her rescue if she screamed.
Shirlene’s wallet wasn’t under the front steps. Or anywhere in a ten-foot radius. She really didn’t want to enter the trailer, but her credit cards were the only things keeping her from abject poverty. The locked door surprised her yet again, especially in its current condition. But she figured Bubba had locked it when he left as some kind of east Texas joke.
As she searched through her keys, an image of Wilkesville flashed through her mind—something that had happened frequently that morning. It annoyed the hell out of her. Why in the world would her mind be stuck on Bubba Wilkes when she had better things to think about? Like a pair of laughing sapphire eyes. And a lean torso covered in the smooth cotton of an expensive western shirt. And a sexy smile that spoke of naughty thoughts and steamy nights.
Beau might be young, but he was twice the man Bubba Wilkes would ever be. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to matter. Like a two-headed cow in a carnival freak show, the image of Bubba’s naked body seemed to have burned itself on Shirlene’s retinas.
Frustrated with her thoughts, she didn’t waste any time unlocking the door. The sooner she found her wallet, the sooner she could drive to Midland and spend the next few days in an air-conditioned hotel room while she waited for the bank president to get back from his vacation. Her plan was to try and convince the man to let her live in herhouse until she could sell it. Then with the proceeds, she would pay off the loan and have enough left over to last her a while. Since it was a win-win for both her and the bank, she didn’t see how the president could refuse her.
Unless he was as ornery as Mr. Peabody.
But her plans evaporated when she couldn’t find her wallet inside the trailer either. Feeling slightly hysterical, she jerked out the sofa bed and was in the process of searching beneath the thin mattress when a thought struck her. Who had folded the sofa bed back up? She couldn’t see Bubba doing it. Not unless he was some kind of closet neat freak. Of course, Lyle had been a little anal, so it was possible. It was also possible that Bubba had found her wallet. Although why he hadn’t said anything when he drove past her earlier was beyond her. Still, he wouldn’t be hard to track down, not when he lived at Josephine’s Diner during the day.
Resigning herself to a few more hours in day-old clothes, she turned back to the door. Her gaze swept to the small kitchen and the old card table she and Colt had eaten all their meals on. Two paper plates sat on the scarred top, along with two cans of grape soda. On each plate were remnants of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and Cheetos crumbs. A kid lunch if ever Shirlene saw one.
Suddenly everything made perfect sense. The locked door. The cold-fingered strangler. The chainsaw-wielding midget. Kids were using her trailer like a summer playhouse, no doubt having a ball with sleepovers and picnics, and scaring gullible women.
She smiled at the thought of how much fun she and Hope would’ve
All she had to do now was find it.
“Come on, Piglet,” she tried to coax Sherman out of the SUV. “Bubba was probably right. It was just some neighbor trying out his new chainsaw.”
But being that Sherman was smarter than the averagepig, he saw straight through the lie and, with a grunt, refused to budge from the seat.
“Some watch pig you are,” she huffed. Still, she left the door open just in case the pig decided to come to her rescue if she screamed.
Shirlene’s wallet wasn’t under the front steps. Or anywhere in a ten-foot radius. She really didn’t want to enter the trailer, but her credit cards were the only things keeping her from abject poverty. The locked door surprised her yet again, especially in its current condition. But she figured Bubba had locked it when he left as some kind of east Texas joke.
As she searched through her keys, an image of Wilkesville flashed through her mind—something that had happened frequently that morning. It annoyed the hell out of her. Why in the world would her mind be stuck on Bubba Wilkes when she had better things to think about? Like a pair of laughing sapphire eyes. And a lean torso covered in the smooth cotton of an expensive western shirt. And a sexy smile that spoke of naughty thoughts and steamy nights.
Beau might be young, but he was twice the man Bubba Wilkes would ever be. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to matter. Like a two-headed cow in a carnival freak show, the image of Bubba’s naked body seemed to have burned itself on Shirlene’s retinas.
Frustrated with her thoughts, she didn’t waste any time unlocking the door. The sooner she found her wallet, the sooner she could drive to Midland and spend the next few days in an air-conditioned hotel room while she waited for the bank president to get back from his vacation. Her plan was to try and convince the man to let her live in herhouse until she could sell it. Then with the proceeds, she would pay off the loan and have enough left over to last her a while. Since it was a win-win for both her and the bank, she didn’t see how the president could refuse her.
Unless he was as ornery as Mr. Peabody.
But her plans evaporated when she couldn’t find her wallet inside the trailer either. Feeling slightly hysterical, she jerked out the sofa bed and was in the process of searching beneath the thin mattress when a thought struck her. Who had folded the sofa bed back up? She couldn’t see Bubba doing it. Not unless he was some kind of closet neat freak. Of course, Lyle had been a little anal, so it was possible. It was also possible that Bubba had found her wallet. Although why he hadn’t said anything when he drove past her earlier was beyond her. Still, he wouldn’t be hard to track down, not when he lived at Josephine’s Diner during the day.
Resigning herself to a few more hours in day-old clothes, she turned back to the door. Her gaze swept to the small kitchen and the old card table she and Colt had eaten all their meals on. Two paper plates sat on the scarred top, along with two cans of grape soda. On each plate were remnants of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and Cheetos crumbs. A kid lunch if ever Shirlene saw one.
Suddenly everything made perfect sense. The locked door. The cold-fingered strangler. The chainsaw-wielding midget. Kids were using her trailer like a summer playhouse, no doubt having a ball with sleepovers and picnics, and scaring gullible women.
She smiled at the thought of how much fun she and Hope would’ve
Similar Books
