Batteries Not Required Read Online Free PDF

McCullough on a pool table with little or no provocation.
    â€œHelp you, honey?”
    I looked up from the menu and met the kindly eyes of an aging waitress. She seemed vaguely familiar, but I didn’t recognize her name, even when I read it off the little tag on her uniform.
    Florence.
    â€œI’ll take the meat loaf special,” I said, looking neither to the left nor right. “And a diet cola. Large.”
    â€œComin’ right up,” Florence assured me, and smiled again.
    I relaxed a little. At least there was one person in Parable who didn’t think I ought to be tarred, feathered and run out of town on a rail. Make that two—Nancy Beeks, over at the Lakeside, had been friendly enough.
    The little bell over the door tinkled as someone entered, and the diner chatter died an instant death. I knew without turning around that Tristan had just walked in, because every nerve in my body leaped to instinctual attention.
    Damn him. He wasn’t going to leave me alone. He’d gotten past my well-maintained defenses without breaking a sweat. He’d made love to me in an empty tavern. What more did he have to prove?
    He took the stool next to mine, reached casually for a menu. He’d showered, too, I saw out of the corner of my eye, and put on fresh clothes—Levi’s and a blue chambray shirt. “Fancy meeting you here,” he said, without looking my way.
    â€œLike it’s a surprise,” I retorted.
    Florence set my diet cola down, along with clean silverware. “That special will be ready in a minute, sweetie,” she told me, before turning her attention to Tristan. “Hey, there, handsome. You stepping out on me, all slicked up like that?” she teased.
    To my satisfaction, color pulsed in Tristan’s neck. “Would I do that to you, Flo?”
    She laughed. “Probably,” she said. “Who’s the lucky gal?”
    â€œYou wouldn’t know her,” he replied, smooth as could be. “The meat loaf sounds good. I’ll have that, and a chocolate milk shake.”
    Flo glanced at me, then looked at Tristan again. Somehow, she’d connected the dots. She smiled broadly and went off to give the order to the fry cook.
    â€œHow long are you going to be in town?” Tristan still wasn’t looking at me, but I figured he wasn’t asking the customer on the other side of him. The man had the look of a long-time resident.
    â€œAs long as it takes to finalize the sale of the Bronco,” I answered, because I knew he wouldn’t leave me alone until I did. Tristan was a hard man to ignore. The reference to the tavern made me squirm, though, because I couldn’t help remembering how many orgasms I’d had, and how fiercely intense they’d been. I hadn’t exactly kept them to myself.
    â€œShouldn’t be long,” he said, still staring straight ahead, as if he’d taken a deep interest in the milk shake machine, already churning up his order. “The other owners are eager to sell, and the buyer is ready to make out a check.”
    â€œGood,” I replied, and took a sip of my diet cola. At the moment, I wished it would turn into a double martini. I could have used the anesthetic effect.
    He turned his stool ever so slightly in my direction, but there was still no eye contact. Like everybody in the diner didn’t know we were talking. “I suppose you’ve talked to Bob by now,” he said.
    Bob was in my dresser drawer, under four pairs of panties. “Of course,” I said lightly. “Bob and I are honest with each other.”
    â€œRight. By now, he’s probably on his way here to punch me in the mouth.”
    â€œBob isn’t that sort of man.” Bob, of course, wasn’t any sort of man.
    â€œI’d do it, if I were him.”
    I smiled to myself, though I was shaken, and there was that peculiar tightening in the pit of my stomach again. “He’s not