Free Christmas Confidential by Marilyn Pappano; Linda Conrad Page B

Besides, if you were as old as Boo, you’d be a little creaky, too.”
    “I’m feeling older by the minute,” he murmured, but with every intention of her hearing.
    She didn’t actually mean to go to sleep. Given the circumstances, she’d slept fairly well the night before. But the rhythmic whick of tires on pavement lulled her away. Just for a minute. But the next thing she recognized was the absence of that sound.
    She opened her eyes, but one saw only blackness. Dean’s cap, she remembered groggily. Her face was smushed against Boo, no doubt leaving the weave’s imprint on the right side and making for a less than attractive squishiness on the left side. Raising her head, she yawned broadly, then looked around. “Where are we?”
    “The bright metropolis of Sunshine, Mississippi.”
    “No, really, where are we?”
    “Really, Sunshine. See?” He pointed to a faded yellow sign listing to the sun-setting position above the entrance to a convenience store. “Population, fifty or so, I’d guess, plus a pack of mangy cats.” They were gathered at the Dumpster beside the store.
    “Why are we stopping?”
    “One, we need gas. Two, I’m hungry. And three, I really need to take a—” He broke off when she scowled at him. “Look, there’s the bright spot in this town. Fat Boy’s Fried Chicken Hut. If that’s not a name that draws you in, I don’t know what is.”
    She gazed from him to the restaurant, not the most encouraging sight she’d ever seen. Small, drab, definitely not a five-star place, but the Shell parking lot was filled with vehicles, most with Mississippi plates. The locals seemed to like it, and if a fat Southern boy didn’t know his fried chicken, who did?
    They parked with a half dozen other cars on a patch of yellowed grass, and Dean climbed out, stretching his arms high over his head, enough to give her a glimpse of his flat, ridged stomach before he tugged his sweater back down. It had been so long since she’d seen the sexy parts of any man, much less touched, and damn it, she was still a sucker for rock-hard abs.
    Maybe still a bit of a sucker for him.
    He bent to see through the door. “You coming?”
    “Yeah. Sure.” But after opening her own door, she hesitated. Since recovering Boo from the storage locker, he hadn’t been more than a foot from her, and she hated to let this be the first time. What if someone stole Dean’s car while they were inside?
    The chilly breeze tousling his hair, he grinned. “When Cathy didn’t give up her security blanket by the time she started school, my mother cut off a little square so she could stick it in her pocket. Want me to cut off his arm or an ear for you?”
    Her scowl was only half-pretend. “What about yours? Did your mom cut off a piece of it, too?”
    “She did. I’ll show it to you sometime. Bring it if you want, or you can stick it in the trunk. Just decide. I’m cold and hungry and I still need to take a—” He broke off with a shrug and shoved his hands into his gloves.
    It was hard, but she placed Boo carefully on the backseat, then covered him with plastic shopping bags. She slid out of the car and into her jacket, then hustled to follow Dean into the restaurant.
    The heat inside fogged the windows, painted with manger scenes and majestic gold stars, and the aroma when they’d taken three steps was enough to make her mouth water. She hadn’t had really good fried chicken since her mother had been well enough to fry it herself, with mashed potatoes and cream gravy, biscuits, stewed greens and fried okra, and pecan pie for dessert. So long ago, before the state had taken the other kids. Too much trouble for just two, she’d said after that, but Miri had known the truth. Too many memories, too much sorrow.
    They found a table in the middle of the room and ordered the lunch special—no greens, but otherwise the same menu she remembered—with sweetened mint tea that was sensory overload all by itself. After a sip that