Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 117443 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117443 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Hayley looked to Chris who grinned and shrugged. She looked back to Tex. "Really?"
"Well, no, not really," Tex said through his laughter. "He was ordered by a judge to enlist or go to jail."
She looked at Hawk who was now glaring intently at Tex. "Shut it, Cowboy," he growled, which made Tex laugh even harder.
"Oh, Lord," Tex gasped. "He and his buddies spray painted all the road signs between here and the Rez. Hawk here was the only one who got busted and wouldn't squeal on his partners in crime. The judge was trying to strong arm him into talking, thinking that Hawk'd never go for enlisting. But Hawk showed up at the recruitment office the very next day."
She smiled at Hawk, who glared back at her. "Vandalism? You didn't knock over a liquor store or hot wire someone's truck?"
Hawk tried desperately to maintain his stolid composure. "I'm a bad, dangerous man, Slick. Trust that."
Tex guffawed.
Hayley grinned. "I'll keep it mind."
"See that you do."
Tex sighed his contentment at having outed Hawk's pink cotton candy center. "So he's Hawk, called Hawk by his Mama, for strange and mysterious reasons known only to people who smoke peace pipes and take peyote."
Hayley's mouth dropped open in shock, but neither Hawk nor Chris seemed to mind. When she looked at Chris he just smirked and shook his head, indicating that this was not quite the racist jab it appeared to be.
"And I'm Tex, 'cause I'm from West Texas. And apparently I had the misfortune of enlisting with some insecure and not terribly creative assholes who weren't man enough to highlight my other stunning attributes by christening me ‘Adonis’ or ‘Horsecock.’ ”
Hayley let out a surprised yelp of laughter. But Chris scowled. "Tex," he warned.
Tex threw up his hands. "I am just lamenting my lot in life. He's Hawk, you're Shooter, and Easy’s Easy. Doc is Doc for obvious reasons and I'm just Tex," he said, doing his best to sound forlorn.
"Who's Easy?" she asked. Tex and Hawk immediately looked down at their cards, not answering.
Chris caught her eye. "That's Jimmy."
"Oh."
Tex's head came up. "You told her about Jimmy?" Chris nodded and sipped his beer. Tex turned to look at Hayley. "Jimmy's a good guy. He’s Easy because he’s from New Orleans. Also uncreative. He's just taking extra time to get his shit together. He'll show up at Burnout here soon one of these days. And he'll pick up a wrench and that'll be that." Tex said it confidently, like he was making a prediction. Hayley smiled, but the look on Chris's face said he wasn't convinced.
In an effort to change the subject, Hayley said, “You’re a doctor, too?” to Caleb.
“Medic,” he replied.
“Why didn’t you stay in the medical field when you got out of the army?”
He shrugged. “Saw enough of it.”
Hayley thought about that and nodded. "And you're Shooter."
Chris's mouth twitched. "Because I shoot people at stoplights."
Hayley's face instantly turned red and she half-groaned. "Sorry about that. But Milo did go out of his way to make it sound like you were...." She waved her hand to indicate that he knew what she was saying.
Hawk grinned. "Milo's a joker. Always has been. Even when he lost his finger, he got a little box, cut a hole in the bottom and stuck his middle finger in it and showed Maria when he got out of the hospital. Guess that was his way of dealing with it. 'Course his real finger was so chewed up there were only little bits and pieces of it left and-"
"Hawk," Chris warned.
Hawk chuckled. "It was an awesome joke. Except not to Maria. She banned him from the bar for a whole month. But I suspect that had more to do with Milo's tendency to drink more when things don't go his way. Like when he got laid off at the cement plant all those years ago. Maria didn't want him going on a bender again and since Milo doesn't believe in drinking alone, it was best to just send him home to deal with it."
At Chris’ kitchen island, Hayley pulled two pies out of the paper bag. Chris leaned against the counter, smirking. “You made me two pies?”
She glared at him. “No. I made two pies. Neither for you. Tex asked for them.”
“But you made two,” Chris pointed out.
She sighed and rolled her eyes at him. “The peaches were on sale at a produce stand on the way home. By the dozen. You can’t make one pie with a dozen peaches, Chris. It’d never cook all the way through. I had to make two.” The men filtered into the kitchen as she reached into the plastic sack and pulled out a tupperware container.
“And you were gonna eat two whole pies by yourself before Sunday?” he asked.
She glared at him. “Yes. Totally.”