Read Online Save Me, Santa: A Chirstmas Anthology of Romance & Suspense by Rita Herron, Lois Lavrisa, Nina Bruhns, Ann Charles, Patricia Mason - Free Book Online Page A
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red cowboy boot. Brunhilda grunted, but didn’t budge. “I’m not even supposed to have dogs in here. If the state health inspector were to walk in, I’m screwed.”
“Nah. I’d just explain that she’s our Aunt Harriet. They kind of look alike. Besides, if it weren’t for me and Brunhilda, you’d be all alone on Christmas Eve.”
Sad, but true. I needed some new friends. “I’m closing the bar early tonight. You can either help me with this mess or drag both of your sorry asses home.”
“Just call me Cinderella,” Buffalo said, setting his glass to the side. “Whoever spilled all of this good beer should be thrown in the hoosegow.”
Something about my standing there with a mop in my hand spurred déjà vu. I tried to remember what had happened earlier in the night, but everything jumbled together in my memory—the two old drunks caroling on top of the bar like they were Vegas night club singers, the feisty retiree in the red velvet running suit bouncing around and dangling mistletoe over her head. It was a wonder someone hadn’t broken a hip.
“You have everything you need for New Year’s?” Buffalo asked.
“Everything but a date.”
“You can be mine—minus anything disgustingly sexual.”
I grinned. “The feeling is mutual, Buff. I still can’t believe you got in a fight with your girlfriend over your neighbor’s pig and ended up with a broken arm.”
“I can’t believe she came at me with that cast iron skillet.” He bent down and scratched Brunhilda’s back. “But we’re sure glad that crazy bitch left us, aren’t we old girl? She was just jealous because you’re prettier than she ever was.”
“You and that dog are spending way too much time together. Next you’ll be telling me she’s the ‘one’ for you.”
“You know I don’t believe in just having one woman for more than a couple of months. It’s unnatural.”
“You’re unnatural. Now help me clean up this beer or get the hell out of my bar.”
Buffalo wiped the bar down in silence for several seconds. “I wonder what Joel is up to. You’d think he’d come home for the holidays, pay his dad a visit, drop in and share a drink with the latest woman he’d kicked to the curb.”
I stopped mopping mid-swish, my hackles rising unbeknownst to Buffalo apparently, because he kept rambling. “The guy always hated staying in the big city too long, said it rotted his lungs.”
“Can we not talk about that son of a bitch tonight?” I asked. “I’m hoping to have a sober holiday.”
Buffalo shook his head. “I can’t believe you’re still not over him. I hate to say it after he left you like he did, but that means something, Monty. You should probably go see him, run some tests, and find out if it’s really love.”
“Or just chronic heartburn,” I said, glaring at Buffalo. “If only I had the power to turn men into dung beetles.”
He laughed. “You know, it’s not your fault. Joel always could charm the spines off a prickly pear cactus if he put his mind to it. I’m just surprised it took him so long to get you into bed.”
I’d resisted Joel’s wooing as long as humanly possible, but the bastard had convinced me I was special. Not to mention that his pheromones could be a superpower. “He certainly had a talented tongue.”
Buffalo cringed. “Hey, come on. There are things about you two that I never want to know.”
“You started this.”
The phone behind the bar rang.
Looking over at the display screen, Buffalo frowned. “It says, ‘unlisted number’.”
“Don’t answer. It’s just going to be a bunch of heavy breathing.”
“Did you tell the sheriff about these calls?”
“No.”
“You’ve been getting them for a week now. It’s time to take this seriously, stat.”
“Did you just say stat ?”
He continued, ignoring my interruption. “You need to let the sheriff know about them so you can get it put on file in case you end up shooting someone again.”
“That was
“Nah. I’d just explain that she’s our Aunt Harriet. They kind of look alike. Besides, if it weren’t for me and Brunhilda, you’d be all alone on Christmas Eve.”
Sad, but true. I needed some new friends. “I’m closing the bar early tonight. You can either help me with this mess or drag both of your sorry asses home.”
“Just call me Cinderella,” Buffalo said, setting his glass to the side. “Whoever spilled all of this good beer should be thrown in the hoosegow.”
Something about my standing there with a mop in my hand spurred déjà vu. I tried to remember what had happened earlier in the night, but everything jumbled together in my memory—the two old drunks caroling on top of the bar like they were Vegas night club singers, the feisty retiree in the red velvet running suit bouncing around and dangling mistletoe over her head. It was a wonder someone hadn’t broken a hip.
“You have everything you need for New Year’s?” Buffalo asked.
“Everything but a date.”
“You can be mine—minus anything disgustingly sexual.”
I grinned. “The feeling is mutual, Buff. I still can’t believe you got in a fight with your girlfriend over your neighbor’s pig and ended up with a broken arm.”
“I can’t believe she came at me with that cast iron skillet.” He bent down and scratched Brunhilda’s back. “But we’re sure glad that crazy bitch left us, aren’t we old girl? She was just jealous because you’re prettier than she ever was.”
“You and that dog are spending way too much time together. Next you’ll be telling me she’s the ‘one’ for you.”
“You know I don’t believe in just having one woman for more than a couple of months. It’s unnatural.”
“You’re unnatural. Now help me clean up this beer or get the hell out of my bar.”
Buffalo wiped the bar down in silence for several seconds. “I wonder what Joel is up to. You’d think he’d come home for the holidays, pay his dad a visit, drop in and share a drink with the latest woman he’d kicked to the curb.”
I stopped mopping mid-swish, my hackles rising unbeknownst to Buffalo apparently, because he kept rambling. “The guy always hated staying in the big city too long, said it rotted his lungs.”
“Can we not talk about that son of a bitch tonight?” I asked. “I’m hoping to have a sober holiday.”
Buffalo shook his head. “I can’t believe you’re still not over him. I hate to say it after he left you like he did, but that means something, Monty. You should probably go see him, run some tests, and find out if it’s really love.”
“Or just chronic heartburn,” I said, glaring at Buffalo. “If only I had the power to turn men into dung beetles.”
He laughed. “You know, it’s not your fault. Joel always could charm the spines off a prickly pear cactus if he put his mind to it. I’m just surprised it took him so long to get you into bed.”
I’d resisted Joel’s wooing as long as humanly possible, but the bastard had convinced me I was special. Not to mention that his pheromones could be a superpower. “He certainly had a talented tongue.”
Buffalo cringed. “Hey, come on. There are things about you two that I never want to know.”
“You started this.”
The phone behind the bar rang.
Looking over at the display screen, Buffalo frowned. “It says, ‘unlisted number’.”
“Don’t answer. It’s just going to be a bunch of heavy breathing.”
“Did you tell the sheriff about these calls?”
“No.”
“You’ve been getting them for a week now. It’s time to take this seriously, stat.”
“Did you just say stat ?”
He continued, ignoring my interruption. “You need to let the sheriff know about them so you can get it put on file in case you end up shooting someone again.”
“That was
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