Frost Burn (The Fire and Ice Series, Book 1) Read online

CHAPTER 10

  There were many things in her life she’d never considered doing; walking into Hawtie’s was one of them. It was everything she’d assumed it would be, and more. In fact, there was more everywhere she looked, or perhaps it was less. She wasn’t bashful, she didn’t embarrass easily, but she was fighting a burning blush right now as she gazed around the dimly lit room. The only real lighting in the place was focused solely on the stage and the three poles set up there. Poles that were all occupied by women wearing less clothing than she wore to sleep in at night, and just barely more than she wore in the shower.

  Her eyes darted away from them and to the numerous men crammed within the building. A good chunk of the patrons had gathered in the chairs and tables clustered around the stage, but a number of them stood at the bar and moved through the room. There were more women than she’d expected, and not all of them worked here.

  The odors assaulting her highly attuned sense of smell caused her nose to wrinkle. She had to fight the urge to pinch her nostrils closed against the body odor, lust and stale alcohol smell permeating the room, but she didn’t think it would help her blend into the crowd. The beat of the club music resonated in her ears, her head was already pounding, and they hadn’t made it more than five feet past the door.

  “Are you sure they’re going to come here?” Melissa asked with a wrinkled nose and a look on her face Quinn was sure mirrored her own.

  “I see five of them already,” she said and waved toward one of the booths on the far wall.

  The large booth was crowded with a group of townie kids. They leaned over the table in front of them as they waved money in the air. One of the kids in the booth sported a black eye and his nose had doubled in size. It was a nose she clearly recalled decking after he’d grabbed her boob last night. He didn’t look overly upset about his nose as he shook his money more insistently at a woman bending in ways Quinn hadn’t considered possible until now.

  She scanned the crowd, picking out three more men from last night. They were all wearing their cowboy hats and leaning against the bar. The two groups may have been trying to kill each other last night, but none of them paid attention to each other now. By the time they dragged themselves back into Clint’s, she knew they’d all be friends again.

  “I’ll be back.” Julian had spoken the words in a low voice, but Quinn heard them clearly over the noise.

  “We’ll be at the bar,” Chris said and turned away from him. “Checking out Jesse James and his gang.”

  “Their names are Ross, Ernie, and Jeb,” she whispered to Chris. “Some of my best tippers, so be nice.”

  “Then you can do the talking, and I’ll do the reading of them,” Chris told her with a smile.

  Quinn nodded as she approached the group of men. Jeb’s grin split his weathered face and revealed his teeth. His hazel eyes twinkled as he tipped the front of his hat to her. He was a handsome man with curly blond hair and an easygoing charm, but she’d always brushed off his advances. She seriously doubted the, ‘hey, I’m one of the living dead,’ approach to starting a relationship went over great with anyone.

  “Quinn what brings you to this place?” Jeb greeted.

  “I thought I’d stop by and say hi to Hawtie, haven’t seen her in over a week,” she replied, though she’d never come in here to hunt down her friend before. “And show my friends around.”

  Jeb’s eyes slid past her to the others before rapidly coming back to her. “Hawtie and Clint are on the outs again? That explains his actually shooting the gun last night.”

  Quinn chuckled. “It does.” Clint and Hawtie had been on and off since they’d been out of diapers. Despite their tumultuous relationship, they always found their way back together.

  “How mad is Clint?” Ross asked.

  “You know Clint, by next week it will all be forgotten,” she replied with a smile.

  “And at eight dollars a beer we’ll all be broke,” Ernie said and lifted his bottle of beer into the air.

  “You know what happens when you get in a fight in his bar,” Quinn admonished.

  Ernie ducked his head sheepishly. “Yeah, we know, but sometimes the alcohol gets the best of us.”

  “Not at eight dollars a pop,” she replied with a laugh.

  Ernie chuckled, finished off his beer and dropped it on the bar. She turned toward the young bartender with shockingly bright red hair. The woman had more piercings in her eyebrow than hair and eyes the color of a pumpkin due to contacts. Her clothes were skimpy, but her breasts were completely covered.

  “What can I get you?” the woman inquired.

  “I’ll take a rum and coke,” Quinn answered and looked questioningly toward the others.

  “Water,” Melissa said.

  “Crown on the rocks,” Chris replied.

  Chris wasn’t looking at the three men, but she could feel his attention tuned into them while he watched the stage. His eyes briefly met hers; he shook his head. Quinn’s shoulders slumped in relief; she happily snatched up her drink and took a swallow of the cool, sweet concoction.

  She knew all of the men who had been in the bar last night, but she knew some of them better than others. She really hadn’t wanted it to be one of these guys. They were a good group, normally easy going, fun to talk with, and they didn’t constantly try to grab her ass. She couldn’t imagine any of them getting any sort of pleasure out of killing women and children, but she knew how well people could keep their secrets hidden from the world.

  She took another sip of her drink as Hawtie emerged from a side room. For a woman in her fifties, Hawtie was still one the most stunning women Quinn had ever seen. Her deep auburn hair, piled on top of her head, shone in the dim light. She had high cheekbones and porcelain skin just beginning to crinkle around her warm brown eyes and full mouth.

  If Hawtie’s face didn’t catch someone’s attention, her body often stopped them dead in their tracks. Her ample breasts had been thrust upward by a curve-hugging corset. Her round hips were enhanced by the form-fitting black pants she’d poured herself into. It wasn’t until Hawtie had reached her teens, or so Quinn had been told, that she’d been given, and still embraced, the fitting nickname of Hawtie the body.

  Hawtie’s gaze skimmed over her establishment before coming to rest on Quinn. Her painted red mouth broke into a welcoming grin and her eyes sparkled. Hawtie sashayed toward her with a sway of her hips that turned the heads in the tables closest to her.

  Her arms opened to embrace Quinn in a hug that crushed her against the warm body. If Quinn had been human, she may have suffocated in the voluptuous breasts she found her face practically smooshed into. She smiled as Hawtie’s heat enveloped her and the familiar scent of lavender filled her nostrils.

  Hawtie smoothed back Quinn’s hair when she pulled away to smile down at her. At five nine, Quinn didn’t often feel small around women, but Hawtie had a good three inches on her. “What are you doing in here?” Hawtie demanded.

  “Looking for you.” Quinn felt bad for lying to her; however, she wasn’t about to admit they were here looking for a serial killer. “Haven’t seen you in over a week.”

  “Aw honey, you shouldn’t have come in here.” Hawtie grabbed both sides of the bottom of Quinn’s hair and pulled it forward. It was such a strange yet oddly calming gesture Hawtie did to her often.

  “I wasn’t sure when you’d be returning to Clint’s.”

  “Pfft, that man,” Hawtie said and waved her red tipped fingers through the air.

  “Hawtie…”

  “You know how it is.” Hawtie tugged on her hair before releasing it. “He’s a stubborn old coot.”

  “And you’re just as stubborn,” Quinn replied. “You should just agree to marry the man already. You’ve been together long enough.”

  “And give up this last name?”

  “That’s not necessary anymore,” Quinn said with a laugh.

  “I know, but I’m not the marrying type.”

  “True, but you�
�re also not the dating anyone besides Clint type.”

  Hawtie’s deep, belly-rumbling laughter rolled from her, causing everyone nearby to smile. She slugged down the shot of tequila the bartender placed on the bar before turning back to Quinn. “That I’m not. You know the two of us, by next week we’ll be all lovey-dovey again.”

  “I hope so,” Quinn said honestly.

  She missed Hawtie when she wasn’t at the bar, and Clint became even more of a bear to deal with after the second week they were apart. There had been a time the two had fought for a whole month, by the end of the month Clint had been on one side of the bar and everyone else on the other.

  “You could have called, we would have done dinner,” Hawtie told her. “Instead of you coming in.”

  “It’s about time I check out your place.”

  “Sugar, this place isn’t for you.”

  “Hawtie, I’m a big girl. Plus I had some friends who wanted to come in,” Quinn told her. Friends was an extremely loose term, but she didn’t know how else to describe them.

  Hawtie’s eyes lit with curiosity. “What friends?”

  It was a legitimate question, the few friends she had in town Hawtie already knew. Quinn turned and gestured Chris and Melissa forward. “This is Chris and Melissa.”

  Hawtie grinned and extended her hand to them. Her hand lingered within Chris’s as her grin became saucy and she stuck out a hip. “Aren’t you just too cute.” She gave Quinn a suggestive waggle of her eyebrows before focusing on Chris and Melissa again. “And how do you know Quinn?”

  “We met the other night at Clint’s,” Quinn answered. “They’re traveling through the area.”

  “Isn’t that wonderful!” Hawtie declared. “It’s great to finally see Quinn making some friends.”

  If she’d been a thirteen year old girl she would have been mortified, instead she brushed the comment off. “You know my friends,” Quinn replied with a false laugh.

  “Yeah because they’re from this town. So secretive this one.” Hawtie pinched her cheek before turning toward Chris and Melissa. “Where are you from?”

  “Massachusetts,” Melissa answered.

  “I’m not much for the cold; I like the heat,” Hawtie said and bumped Quinn’s hip playfully.

  Hawtie’s eyes slid past her, but even before they widened in admiration, Quinn knew Julian had returned. The aura of power he radiated caused her skin to ripple with awareness and her body to warm unexpectedly.

  “Hell-ooo sugar,” Hawtie purred. She released Quinn and adjusted her ample breasts before turning her thousand-watt smile on Julian.

  Quinn shook her head, but Julian smiled back at her and propped an elbow on the bar. “Hello yourself there, Red.”

  It took everything she had to bite her tongue as Hawtie thrust her hand out to him. “Chelsea Hawtie, but you can call me Hawtie, everyone else does.”

  “I can see why,” Julian replied as he took hold of her hand.

  Quinn had never experienced jealousy before, but she was fairly certain that was the emotion churning in her belly right now. “Aren’t you a smooth one,” Hawtie said with a flutter of her sweeping lashes.

  “Smooth as ice, but much more fun to play on.”

  Quinn choked on her drink; her hand flew up to her mouth as liquid sprayed out of it. Her eyes watered as soda surged up to burn her nose. Hawtie laughed flirtatiously, Melissa and Chris rolled their eyes and turned away from them. Quinn swore her blood began to boil when Julian started thumping her on the back, and Hawtie fixed her with assessing eyes.

  Moving quickly away from his hand, she gave Hawtie a tight smile before slipping around her to stand beside Jeb and Ernie. She’d hoped having Hawtie in between her and Julian would help to calm her, it didn’t. She kept her attention focused on the bottles of liquor lined up in front of the mirror behind the bar. Chugging down the rest of her drink, she pushed her empty glass toward the bartender.

  “Refill?” the woman asked.

  She was about to tell her to just hand over the bottle of rum when a large hand, with strong pale fingers enclosed the top of her empty glass. Julian’s chiseled bicep didn’t touch her, but she could feel the heat of his flesh so near to hers. If she moved so much as an inch, they would be touching each other. She knew she couldn’t let it happen, but the irresistible urge to feel his flesh pressed against hers, slithered through her. Instead, she glared daggers at the offending fingers covering her glass.

  “People have lost a hand for less,” she muttered grumpily.

  “I know they have, but unfortunately we have to go.” His affable tone caused her teeth to clench.

  “I thought we were staying for a bit.”

  “Change of plans.”

  Quinn forced a cheery smile to her face when she turned to face him. She felt anything but chipper though as she met his strangely colored, yet captivating eyes. All she felt was completely overwhelmed and more than a little out of her depth. He seemed to realize this too as the corner of his mouth quirked into that aggravating little smile.

  “Fine.” Looking to escape him, she turned to Hawtie. Her smile was no longer forced as she embraced her friend.

  “Be careful of that one,” Hawtie murmured in her ear.

  “I’d prefer to choke him.”

  Hawtie laughed, but her eyes were troubled when she stepped away.