Dana Marton - Broslin Creek 05 - Broslin Bride Read Online Free Page A

afternoon, The Wizard of Oz . Broslin had its own amateur theater company that put on several plays each year.  
    The presents were already bought but not yet wrapped, all from garage sales. Amazing how people gave away twenty-dollar toys for a dollar when their kids got tired of them. Their loss, her gain.
    Luanne considered the ladybug cake. Well, no help for that. She took another sip and thought several uncharitable thoughts about the guests who’d stiffed her on the tip.
    While she was at it, she allowed herself a brief daydream where she smacked the trucker upside the head when he’d grabbed her ass. She felt the weight of the spray bottle as she swung it, heard the satisfying clunk, saw the dazed expression in the man’s eyes, then the shame as he came to his senses. He issued a hasty apology, then a ten-dollar tip to make up for his assholery.
    There, that made her feel much better.
    She glanced at her watch. Brett was definitely late. Didn’t matter really. She had nothing else to do. She didn’t have to work until Monday. She shuddered at the thought of another encounter with Earl.
    He’d be walking home around now. He didn’t like to get up early, usually ambled into work around noon, but then he tended to stay pretty late. He lived two blocks from here. For a moment, she thought about going out back—he usually cut through the alley behind the bar—to demand her five hours of overtime money.
    But since she knew it would be pointless, she stayed in her seat and slipped into another little daydream. This one involved her red Mustang in the back alley, speeding toward Earl, making him dive for the garbage containers. She lingered over the thought of him emerging coughing and cursing, covered in rotten banana peels.
    She rather liked that image.
    But she liked her job better, so she stayed where she was and entertained herself by watching the crowd. A couple of inebriated college kids performed some pretty interesting dancing. By the time she glanced at her watch again, Brett was forty-five minutes late.
    “You look bored,” a pleasant voice came from behind her before she could admit to herself that she was seriously disappointed.
    She turned to look into nondescript brown eyes, in a nondescript but pleasant face, matching brown hair. The guy was in his midthirties, a couple of inches shorter than her.
    A shy smile made his face interesting. “Can I buy you another drink?”
    Before she could decline, he flashed her a puppy-dog look and added, “I was stood up. Giving up and going home seems too pathetic. If I at least have a drink with a pretty woman, it’d do wonders for my self-esteem.”
    She found herself smiling back at him.
    “Okay,” she said, and finished her drink. “I’m Luanne.”
    “I’m Gregory.” His eyes moved in a good-natured roll. “I know. Even the name is geeky, right? You’re probably thinking I’m the kind of guy who deserves to be stood up.”
    “Nobody deserves to be stood up,” she told him. And when he ordered another round for her, she thanked him.

Chapter Two
     
     
    Luanne struggled in a dream where someone was using a chain saw to slice up her head like a watermelon, the noise as overpowering as the pain.
    She woke with an unbearable headache, forced her eyes open to a slit, and glared at the phone ringing on the nightstand. Ever so slowly, the events of the night before came back to her. The bar. Brett not showing. The other guy. She closed her eyes again. She couldn’t remember the name. Then it came to her on a thunderclap of pain: Gregory.
    She groaned. Good God, how much had she had to drink? She hoped she’d had the good sense to walk home instead of driving.
    The phone kept ringing, each chirp drilling into her brain. She picked it up just to quiet it.
    “Luanne!” Jackie yelled on the other end.
    Luanne pulled the phone a little farther from her ear. “What is it?” Was she late for work? She blinked. No. She had the weekend off. The twins’