He woke up tired, with a slight hangover. It was a little after ten, he hadn’t gone to sleep until near six. Streaks of sunlight crept into the room through the blinds badly in need of replacing, landing on her red hair as she slept on her side, her back to him, the blanket pulled over her shoulder.
“I guess we’re on again,” he thought to himself as he made his way to the tiny kitchen where he quietly brewed a pot of coffee and thought back to last night.
He had just locked the front door and was behind the bar counting the evening’s take when Patti let herself in and sat across from him at the bar.
“What’re you doing here Space Cowboy?” she asked.
“I’m covering for Billy Joe,” he replied. “What’re you doing here Bobby Sue?”
“Couldn’t sleep and the time was right for walking in the moonlight so I thought I’d stop in make sure you don’t take the money and run,” Patti explained.
Jackie poured three fingers of Jameson’s Irish whiskey into a rocks glass adding a splash of water before setting it in front of Patti while she pulled a cigarette from her purse. He deftly offered a light. She accepted, leaning into the blue flame of the lighter while steadying his hand with hers. She drew deeply on the Marlboro Light and exhaled audibly, blowing the smoke in his direction. “What’s this?” she asked.
“A crate of papaya,” he answered, a sly grin on his face.
She took a healthy sip of her drink all the time her eyes on his. “You don’t even know about wild mountain honey.”
Jackie stared hard at her beautifully sculpted face with high cheekbones and emerald green eyes. Leaning forward onto the bar, he placed his lips next to her right ear and whispered through her thick red hair, “I really love your peaches want to shake your tree.”
That was six hours ago. Their “on again/off again” relationship seemed to be on again. “What’re you doing Jackie O’Shea?” he chastised himself as he took a sip of steaming hot coffee. Jackie knew it was bad business to sleep with the boss’s daughter but hell, the boss loved him and made no secret that he wanted Patti and Jackie to tie the knot and give him grandkids. “Unlikely to happen,” he chuckled to himself.
“Good morning Space Cowboy,” she said leaning against the wall wearing only a blue flannel shirt, his, none of the buttons fastened. He smiled as his eyes followed the shape of her legs up to her face, her hair hanging to her shoulders, her mouth turned in a half smile, her eyes dancing with mischief.
Sgt Hook out.
Editor’s note: My heartfelt thanks and sincerest apologies to Steve Miller.
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This post is filed under: Jackie O'Shea & La Vita Dolce
