Free Night Thunder by Jill Gregory

Corinne, he’d have damn sure stared too.
    “That’s the girl I met today in Bessie’s Diner. I told you—I invited her to come tonight, but I didn’t really think she would.” Corinne flashed a grin as Josy reached the table.
    “Glad you could make it,” she exclaimed. “This is Roy, my honey.” Grinning, Corinne glanced up at the tall man who had risen to his feet beside her. He had dark hair and friendly brown puppy dog eyes. “Sweetie, this is Josy Warner.”
    “Glad to meet you, Josy. All the way from Chicago, right? That’s a long way from home. What can I get you to drink?”
    “White wine sounds good.”
    “That’s exactly what I would have guessed.” His eyes twinkled. “Be right back,” he said easily and sauntered off toward the bar.
    “Here, take a seat, Josy. I want you to meet Katy and Jackson Brent, good friends of ours,” Corinne continued. “Katy’s grandmother, Bessie, owns Bessie’s Diner—Katy works there too sometimes, but she couldn’t make it in today because her little girl was sick.”
    “Yes, Roberta told me that.” Josy offered a smile to the slim, beautiful woman seated across from her. “I hope she’s feeling better now.”
    “Mattie’s fever is down, thanks.” Katy Brent set down her wineglass and gave her head a shake, sending the honey-colored strands swinging around her shoulders. “The poor baby had an ear infection and it turned into a cold. Thank God it was nothing really serious.”
    “That’s the only reason why we’re putting in an appearance tonight. But we can’t stay too long,” Jackson Brent said meaningfully, with a sideways glance at his wife.
    Katy laughed. “Jackson worries if Mattie has a hiccup,” she explained, and threw her husband a look of pure love. “We left her with my parents tonight, and I had to promise him we wouldn’t stay here more than half an hour.”
    “And it’s twenty-four minutes and counting,” Jackson Brent retorted. “If Corinne and Roy weren’t two of our best friends, we’d be home hovering over the crib where we belong,” he grinned.
    Josy joined in laughing along with Katy and Corinne. As Roberta came over and joined the group, taking a seat and tipping back a bottle of Budweiser, she couldn’t help thinking what a stunning couple the Brents made.
    Katy Brent glowed with beauty and it was clear she was madly in love with her husband. And Jackson was not only tall, dark, and handsome, he had one of the sexiest, gentlest smiles she’d ever seen. By the time Roy returned with her wine, Jackson was shepherding his wife toward the door and Katy was calling over her shoulder, “See you in town, Josy. Come into Bessie’s and have a slice of pie on me!”
    She called out her thanks, but wasn’t sure Katy Brent heard her, because the din in the Tumbleweed seemed to be rising by the second. All around her, men and women were dancing, drinking, playing darts, or engrossed in group conversations. Just about everyone there seemed to know everyone else.
    The atmosphere was warm and loud and welcoming. She didn’t care much for the smoke clogging the air, mixing with the scent of beer, sawdust, and perfume, but the country music touched a chord in her as she watched a few couples swaying together on the dance floor, their arms entwined.
    “Okay, everybody—get off your butts and dance!” the bartender, a big burly guy with stringy brown hair and a beard, shouted. “This one’s for Corinne, for being the best damned waitress we’ve had in this place in years. No offense, ladies,” he added in his gravelly voice, glancing at the two working waitresses striding from table to bar and back again, carrying trays of beer bottles, bowls of nuts, and glasses. “But we’re sure going to miss our very own A-1 waitress, Miz Corinne Thomas. Everybody shaking their tail out on that dance floor’s going to get a drink on the house!” he yelled, and there was a roar of approval and laughing applause that shook the