Read Online For the Love of a Lush (Lush No. 2) by Selena Laurence - Free Book Online
Authors: Selena Laurence
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on over to the bar and I’ll get you your juice," she answers, shimmying between a couple of guys who take the opportunity to check her out and whistle as she goes by.
I give them a head tip but no smile as I follow her. I won’t be standing by if either of them decides to touch her instead of just look. But they seem to be just enough on the right side of loaded that they keep their paws in check.
When we reach the bar, Marsha motions to the old guy on the end stool, and he grunts at her and leaves. Then she tells me, "Have a seat, cowboy."
"You’ll make a lot more money off of him than you will me, you know," I chide her. "O.J. and club isn’t going to work out to much of a tip no matter how generous I am."
"I thought you famous rock stars just threw around thousand-dollar bills like they were candy.” She winks as she steps behind the bar and starts to mix my drink.
"Sshhh." I scowl at her as I look around to see who might be listening.
Mike and I didn’t know what was going to happen the first few times we went into town after we’d been on the ranch for a few weeks. We went to a lot of trouble and did all the clichéd things—wearing ball caps and sunglasses, slouching around in the dark corners of stores. Imagine how stupid we felt when we realized that no one here listens to our music or knows a damn thing about Lush at all. A few people like Marsha figured it out after a while, but they’ve kept quiet, and we’ve kept off the paparazzi’s radar for going on six months. I figure a little longer and we’ll be such has-beens that no one will care anymore. I’m not sure how I feel about that.
"Oh just relax," she sasses me. "No one here listens to anything but Luke Bryan and Zac Brown Band. You’re safe, rock star."
"So you were going to tell me what Mike’s managed to get himself into now." I change the subject abruptly as I realize I still haven’t seen my roomie.
She sighs and leans forward across the bar top. Marsha’s well-endowed, and I work really hard at keeping my eyes topside as her cleavage sort of splays across the wooden surface. All seeing it would do is make me long for Tammy’s anyway.
"He’s been chatting up one of the local gals."
I take a swig of O.J. and crunch the ice that slides into my mouth. "Nothing new about that," I answer.
"Well, this girl is different."
I raise an eyebrow. "What is she, like a virgin or something?" I slap the bar top and laugh my ass off at the very idea.
Marsha stands back and watches me, arms crossed, a disapproving look on her face.
As I see that she’s not laughing with me, I settle down. "Seriously, Marsha, what’s up? Is she older? Because I can tell you that’s never stopped him. Younger? Unless she’s lied to him about her age, I know he won’t go below eighteen. He may not have many scruples, but he’s got a deep aversion to prison."
Finally, she leans forward again and hisses out, "She’s the pastor’s daughter, you moron."
I swallow my O.J. the wrong way and start to cough. I pound myself on the chest as juice sprays out of my mouth, and the dude on the next barstool gets pissed off and turns his back to me. Marsha looks disgusted and pulls a bar towel from underneath the counter then wipes up the mess I’ve made.
"Well at least you get the seriousness of the situation," she mutters. "Pastor Turner will run him out of here with a shotgun up his ass if he messes with Jenny."
"Holy crap. Does he know? I mean, does he know who she is?"
"Yes, Walsh. I told him right away," she grits out.
"Well why the hell is he still playing with fire?
"How should I know? You’re his friend. I’m just the damn waitress that’s served them three separate times when they’ve been here all cozy in the back corner."
"Aw shit. Where are they? You’d better take me over there."
"Come on then." She motions for me to follow. "I’m sure he’ll be about as happy to hear it from you as he was from me last week."
M IKE IS pouting like
I give them a head tip but no smile as I follow her. I won’t be standing by if either of them decides to touch her instead of just look. But they seem to be just enough on the right side of loaded that they keep their paws in check.
When we reach the bar, Marsha motions to the old guy on the end stool, and he grunts at her and leaves. Then she tells me, "Have a seat, cowboy."
"You’ll make a lot more money off of him than you will me, you know," I chide her. "O.J. and club isn’t going to work out to much of a tip no matter how generous I am."
"I thought you famous rock stars just threw around thousand-dollar bills like they were candy.” She winks as she steps behind the bar and starts to mix my drink.
"Sshhh." I scowl at her as I look around to see who might be listening.
Mike and I didn’t know what was going to happen the first few times we went into town after we’d been on the ranch for a few weeks. We went to a lot of trouble and did all the clichéd things—wearing ball caps and sunglasses, slouching around in the dark corners of stores. Imagine how stupid we felt when we realized that no one here listens to our music or knows a damn thing about Lush at all. A few people like Marsha figured it out after a while, but they’ve kept quiet, and we’ve kept off the paparazzi’s radar for going on six months. I figure a little longer and we’ll be such has-beens that no one will care anymore. I’m not sure how I feel about that.
"Oh just relax," she sasses me. "No one here listens to anything but Luke Bryan and Zac Brown Band. You’re safe, rock star."
"So you were going to tell me what Mike’s managed to get himself into now." I change the subject abruptly as I realize I still haven’t seen my roomie.
She sighs and leans forward across the bar top. Marsha’s well-endowed, and I work really hard at keeping my eyes topside as her cleavage sort of splays across the wooden surface. All seeing it would do is make me long for Tammy’s anyway.
"He’s been chatting up one of the local gals."
I take a swig of O.J. and crunch the ice that slides into my mouth. "Nothing new about that," I answer.
"Well, this girl is different."
I raise an eyebrow. "What is she, like a virgin or something?" I slap the bar top and laugh my ass off at the very idea.
Marsha stands back and watches me, arms crossed, a disapproving look on her face.
As I see that she’s not laughing with me, I settle down. "Seriously, Marsha, what’s up? Is she older? Because I can tell you that’s never stopped him. Younger? Unless she’s lied to him about her age, I know he won’t go below eighteen. He may not have many scruples, but he’s got a deep aversion to prison."
Finally, she leans forward again and hisses out, "She’s the pastor’s daughter, you moron."
I swallow my O.J. the wrong way and start to cough. I pound myself on the chest as juice sprays out of my mouth, and the dude on the next barstool gets pissed off and turns his back to me. Marsha looks disgusted and pulls a bar towel from underneath the counter then wipes up the mess I’ve made.
"Well at least you get the seriousness of the situation," she mutters. "Pastor Turner will run him out of here with a shotgun up his ass if he messes with Jenny."
"Holy crap. Does he know? I mean, does he know who she is?"
"Yes, Walsh. I told him right away," she grits out.
"Well why the hell is he still playing with fire?
"How should I know? You’re his friend. I’m just the damn waitress that’s served them three separate times when they’ve been here all cozy in the back corner."
"Aw shit. Where are they? You’d better take me over there."
"Come on then." She motions for me to follow. "I’m sure he’ll be about as happy to hear it from you as he was from me last week."
M IKE IS pouting like
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