Read Online On Love's Own Terms by Fran Baker - Free Book Online Page B

marriage.”
    “Poppycock.” Sueanne reached over and grasped Bonnie’s hands between her own. “Remember, we graduated from double-Dutch ice cream into double-A bras together. And in spite of the fact we’ve lost contact the past seven years, I still think of you as my best friend. If you need it, my ear is yours for the bending.”
    “Thanks, Sueanne.” Bonnie glanced around and grinned. “This is hardly the time or place for true confessions. But if things get any more tangled than they already are, you may well find me bawling like a baby on your doorstep.”
    “Anytime.” Sueanne released her hands and reached for her water glass.
     “Say, don’t I know you?” An obviously intoxicated stranger leaned over the table and stared intently at Bonnie.
    “I don’t think so.” She averted her face from the sour-mash odor of his breath. “Maybe you’ve confused me with someone else.”
    “No.” The brash intruder flattened his palms on the tabletop, struggling to stay upright. “I’ve seen you before —I’m sure of it. What’s your name?”
    She shook her head, refusing to oblige him. From the corner of her eye, she saw Sueanne’s shoulders shaking with laughter.
    “Tell me your name.” Weaving precariously, he bent closer.
    Bonnie slid her chair sideways until she ran into the iron railing that separated the bar area from the dance floor. Gritting her teeth, she muttered a vehement, “Damn!”
    “Pam?” He drew back a bit, clearly baffled. “Pam,” he repeated. “Funny, it doesn’t ring a bell.”
    Men! she fumed. First, Luke had left her in suspense by pulling a vanishing act that Houdini would have envied. Now this...
    “C’mon, Pam.” He grabbed her hand. “Let’s dance.”
    Bonnie yanked free, accidentally throwing him off balance. Horrified, she watched as he toppled to the floor and dragged an unoccupied chair from the neighboring table over on top of him. Someone unplugged the jukebox, and the roadhouse fell curiously and ominously silent
    “What the hell—” Luke shouldered his way through the people. Hot on his heels, Tom rushed to where Sueanne sat laughing uncontrollably, tears streaming down her face.
    Luke glanced at Bonnie. Then, apparently satisfied that she was unharmed, he clenched his fists and glared toward the floor.
    Once, twice, the man blinked his bloodshot eyes. Floundering like a fish out of water, he grappled impotently with the heavy metal chair. When Bonnie reached out to help, he cringed.
    A crowd gathered, thirsting for a brawl to chase their beers.
    “Teach him a lesson, Luke,” someone goaded.
    “Knock him into the next county,” another suggested. Bonnie froze, a wave of pity washing through her for the cowering figure on the floor. Enough! she wanted to scream. Yet she waited with everyone else, fear churning inside her.
    Luke looked at her, his expression an unreadable meld of emotions. He tossed the chair aside, and her heart stopped beating. When he offered the fallen man a hand up, she almost wept with relief.
    The rather belligerent crowd dispersed reluctantly. Bonnie wanted to slap some common sense into each and every one of them. Instead she said good-bye to Sueanne and reassured her anxious sister while Luke arranged a ride home for the unfortunate victim of her brush-off.
    “Come on, Calamity Jane.” Luke took her hand in his. “They’re playing our song.”
    “I don’t hear any music.” But she stood and followed him.
    “You will.” He smiled mysteriously.
    “Oh?” she challenged.
    “I gave Darlene a handful of change and told her to punch a certain slow number.” His dark gaze drifted downward. “Something to soothe her sister’s savage breast.”
    Her breath caught in her throat when he focused on the front of her halter top. True to Luke’s prediction, their old song flowed softly from the jukebox. He slipped his arms around her slim waist; she raised her hands to his broad shoulders. Their bodies merged, and she felt