Page 5 of Silver Seconds (Tempted in Texas)

Making my way through the crowd, I realize how out of place I am in this small town turned growing city. The women are all dressed in jean shorts or little dresses, while the men wear country plaids. I even see a cowboy hat or two. In my suit and dress shoes, I look like Fred Astaire thrown into the middle of a John Wayne classic.

Finally, I get around the crowd and up to the little swinging saloon door that leads behind the bar. Pushing my way through, I sidle up next to Bash awkwardly. Lucky for me, he's too engaged in one of his old baseball stories to notice me coming.

"—said we'd never win the game at this point," he continues. "We were too far gone, the coach said. So, I told him to just let me out there, and I would do the rest. Gonzales, the pitcher on the other team, was a real piece of work. He could throw balls faster than a car and curve them like a fish hook."

He brings his hands up next to his head in a mime of holding a bat, and the crowd's eyes grow wide as they watch him tell a story I've heard him tell at least five dozen times.

"Gonzales looks at me from the pitcher's mound and spits into the grass—I swear I saw the green sizzle a little. He was so full of acid just looking at me. They wanted their win and would pummel it out of me if they had to. So, I took a deep breath, tapped the plate, and prepared myself for the worst. He threw up his leg, wound up his pitch, and--!"

"And you got hit in the head so bad it took you five days to wake up," I finish.

He freezes at the sound of my voice. After a moment, he turns to look at me, and as recognition fills his eyes, his mouth forms an enormous, shining smile.

"Brett!" he shouts, pulling me in for a rough hug. "I didn't know you were coming down here!"

"I had some business in the area and thought I would come in early to surprise you."

"Well, let me introduce you to everyone," He announces. "My brother from Houston, everyone!"

Some start clapping as he shakes me in his arms, squeezing me around the middle so tight I think I might crack a rib.

The crowd laughs with him, and I wrestle out of his grasp. As I brush off my suit, he starts to chuckle again.

"Nice tux."

I snort. "It's a suit, not a tux." Glancing around at the prying eyes, I ask, "Actually, could we talk privately for a few minutes?"

"Sure," he replies with a grin.

He leads me back out from behind the bar and down a short hallway and bangs on a door labeled with an "Employees Only" metal sign.

"Tucker, break's over! I need you to cover for me!" he shouts through it.

There's only a groan from behind the door, but Bash seems satisfied enough by that response. He waves for me to follow him down to the end of the hall near the bathrooms. He unlocks a door with no label, which leads into a little office.

I get a good look at the place as he shuts the door behind us. I can't help but shake my head.

Papers are strewn across his desk haphazardly, showing off his private finances for anyone wanting to see them. And there's an odd hole in the wall filled with a baseball as if to patch it over. Or maybe the ball caused the hole in the first place, and he just left it there.

He gestures for me to sit in the chair in front of the desk as he walks around to the other side.

I sit across from him, and he grins. "Comfy, huh?"

"The chair?" I shift against it, trying to settle into the thin cushion. "It's fine."

He laughs like I've made some great joke. "Yeah. I don't take many meetings here, so I don't get many people to try it out. But for taking naps during breaks, it's pretty great."

"Taking naps at work?" I reply with a chuckle.

Bash rolls his eyes and plucks a baseball from his desk drawers. "It's not work if you love it."

Tossing the ball, he bounces it off the wall and easily back into his hands. He starts to do it almost rhythmically, and I watch the ball fly back and forth across the room, threatening to take out his framed pictures each time it flies.

"So, you're here for business, huh?" He throws the ball into the air again. "You trying to buy me out?" He winks before catching the ball again.

I can't help but smirk. "In your dreams."

"But youarebuying someone out?" Bash presses.

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