Free Small Town Girl by Patricia Rice Page B

sat down, carrying her with him. Trapping her treacherous arms, he held her in his lap and hugged her against his chest so she couldn't go anywhere. Apparently giving up the fight again after that slap, she broke into renewed sobs, and he rocked her like a baby.
    Somehow, holding a handful of sweet-smelling woman comforted his raging temper. Her soft hair brushed his jaw, and soft curves eased the tension in his chest. He unwound as her sobs diminished into hiccups, and he prayed rationality was returning.
    He just had to get past the smoothness of her bare waist beneath his hand. And her rounded bottom in a place that didn't need any further stimulation.
    "Put me down, you big oaf." Apparently recognizing what she was doing to him and deciding to quit crying, Jo attempted to elbow him, but Flint held her too close.
    "I've got a big deductible on my medical insurance. You're paying the bills if you gut me," he warned, trying not to give in to the instinct to protect the vulnerable.
    "I damned well am not!" She squirmed and kicked, nearly maiming him in a sensitive area, reminding him that Joella was the last thing past vulnerable "I'm hiring the nastiest lawyer in this entire country, and I'm cutting that rat fink's throat, and you'd better let me out of here right now to do it."
    Flint didn't bother to mention that if the law went after one copyright holder, it went after both, and he was the other. He didn't figure she was thinking business at the moment. If he could put aside his own rage for a second, he could understand hers. RJ had only ripped off Flint's livelihood, but if he knew anything at all about music and life, RJ had gouged out Joella's heart and soul.
    "Hey, can we get a little coffee out here?" someone yelled from the shop.
    "You damned well know where the pot is, Georgie." she yelled back. Her elbow glanced off Flint's ribs, but it wasn't as hard a blow as earlier.
    "Joella, honey, are you all right?" inquired a woman's soft voice.
    Flint groaned and shoved Jo off his lap.
    She landed feetfirst, hands on hips. "I'm purely fine, Sally. Me and Flint here just had a little disagreement."
    "That involved half the crockery in here?" George Bob came up behind Sally to look in. "It's a good thing Charlie only stocks that cheap cutlery or it looks like she'd have carved you into beefsteak. Insurance won't cover it."
    "Go to hell, George. Sally, we'll take the kids' pig," she informed her. "And if there are any others left over, we'll find a place for them, too."
    Flint watched as Jo stalked out of the office as if she owned the world. Or at least, his shop. She behaved as if she hadn't been a mewling ball of tears just minutes ago. She still had tearstains on her cheeks, but he could hear her out there pouring coffee for all the usual customers, telling jokes and kicking broken plates around with a forced laugh.
    While he stood here with a hard-on that wouldn't go away and a terror bigger than his heart could hold. He could lose his coffee shop .
    He could lose everything.
    Well, hell, he'd already lost just about everything, so what difference did the damned shop make anyway? His parents would never agree to let his sons live up here in rural poverty, so who cared? He'd go back to cheap hotel rooms and…
    Nope, he couldn't do music either. No fingers to play chords.
    All right, then, he'd be a homeless bum. That took the stiffness right out of his groin and put it in his spine where it belonged.
    Grabbing a push broom from the closet with his good right hand, Flint joined Joella behind the counter. "This comes out of your pay," he warned, not because he meant it but because he had to say something in front of a shopful of staring customers.
    "Fine, I won't pay the rent," she agreed with false cheer.
    He didn't know what one had to do with the other, but he started sweeping anyway. "There's no telling how much money you just threw away. I ought to hire an appraiser."
    "It's not as if you knew they were worth