Page 27 of Rainshadow Road

“You know me better than that, Mrs. O’Hehir,” he chided with a grin. “I always hold my liquor. Is there a place in here where my friend can change into a new shirt?”

“Right in the back,” she said, indicating a door behind her. She gave Lucy a sympathetic glance. “What kind of shirt are you looking for, dear?”

“Just a regular T-shirt.”

“I’ll find something,” Sam told Lucy. “Why don’t you go back there and start washing up while I look around?”

Lucy hesitated before nodding. “Don’t pick out anything weird,” she said. “Nothing with skulls, stupid sayings, or dirty language.”

“Your lack of trust wounds me,” Sam said.

“I don’t know you well enough to trust you.”

“Mrs. O’Hehir will vouch for me.” Sam went up to the elderly woman, braced his hands on the counter, and leaned toward her conspiratorially. “Come on, tell her what a good guy I am. An angel. A sunbeam.”

The woman said to Lucy, “He’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing.”

“What Mrs. O’Hehir was trying to say,” Sam informed her, “is that I’m a sheep in wolf’s clothing.”

Lucy bit back a smile, her mood lightening as the diminutive woman gave her a meaningful glance and shook her head slowly. “I’m sure she knew exactly what she was saying.”

She went into the closet-sized bathroom, pulled off the wet shirt and dropped it into the wastebasket. Since her bra was also soaked, she tossed that as well. It was an old bra, the elastic shot, the straps raggedy. Using hot water and paper towels, she began to wash her arms and chest.

“How did you end up with a biker entourage?” she heard Sam ask from the other side of the door.

“They commissioned me to do a stained-glass window for their church. And now they’ve sort of… well, taken me under their wing, I guess.”

“Is that what you do for a living? You’re a glass artist?”

“Yes.”

“Sounds interesting.”

“It can be, at times.” Lucy threw away a wad of damp paper towels.

“I found a shirt. Ready for me to hand it to you?”

Lucy went to the door and opened it a couple of inches, taking care to keep herself well concealed. Sam reached in to give her a dark brown T-shirt. After the door closed, Lucy held up the shirt to view it critically. The front was decorated with a diagram of pink chemical symbols.

“What is this?”

His voice filtered through the closed door. “It’s a diagram of a theobromine molecule.”

“What’s theobromine?” she asked blankly.

“The chemical in chocolate that makes you happy. Want me to find something else?”

In spite of the rotten day she’d had, Lucy couldn’t help but be amused. “No, I’ll take this one. I like chocolate.” The stretchy knit fabric was soft and comfortable as it settled over her damp torso. Opening the door, Lucy came out of the bathroom.

Sam was waiting for her, his gaze sweeping over her. “Looks great.”

“I look like a geek,” Lucy said. “I smell like a brewery. And I need a bra.”

“My dream date.”

Sternly suppressing a grin, Lucy went to the counter. “How much is it?” she asked.

Mrs. O’Hehir gestured to Sam. “He already paid.”

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