One More Night with You Read Online Free PDF Page B

smelled like Starburst candy. So lucky she’d been to find her parents waiting to intercept her at a depot. They’d busted up her plans and probably saved her ass.
    There was no one to intercept her this time. But she was no longer careless or silly. Any naïveté or innocence she’d once had was gone. She didn’t sing anymore, had forgotten the smell of Starburst and had been French-kissed in places that would disgust her twelve-year-old self.
    â€œSay something, miss?”
    Midway up the steps leading to the library’s entrance, Joey paused and glanced at the hunched-shouldered man sitting with his corduroy-clad legs sprawled wide and his face cracking under a layer of sunburnt skin. “Thinking out loud. Didn’t mean to disturb you.”
    â€œAw, ha! You didn’t.” He jerked a skinny thumb, the nail ringed in filthy debris, toward the building behind him. “The folks coming out of there, with their damn phones and music whatchamacallits— they disturb me.”
    As he rifled through a knapsack and yanked out a hardcover and a bag of potato chips, she began to move past him.
    â€œCan I ask you a rude question?” the man called out. Again she paused. “See, people get a look at me, expect that I’ve got no use for manners and all that. Or they suppose I want money from ’em.”
    â€œI don’t think you want money. If you did you would’ve asked already.”
    His grin revealed a set of stained teeth, but it was sincere and perhaps the most pleasant sight she’d find on this overcast day. “The cane...”
    As if she hadn’t heard variations of this before. What’s a good-looking thing like you doing with a cane? What’s wrong with you? What turned you into a cripple?
    They were words, only words, yet hauntingly painful.
    â€œWhat’s that made out of,” he asked, “marble?”
    Joey smiled, nodding. Of the four she owned, the dove-white swirl one was the least offensive to her navy pinup dress. The 1940s-era-inspired dress, with its crisp collar, short sleeves and full skirt, might’ve been modest if not for the plunging neckline. “Yes, it’s marble. That wasn’t a rude question, but I’ve got one of my own. What are you reading?”
    â€œHave a look for yourself.”
    Peeking at her watch, discreetly assessing her surroundings and memorizing his physical details, she settled on the step beside him. The air was barely a whisper, and a stale, musty odor stung her nostrils. She reached for the book. “A biography on Copernicus. How are you finding it?”
    â€œPompous. I’d’ve made a bigger dent in it if it’d been written in plain English.” A moment of hesitation preceded, “My God, there’s nothing more fascinating than a pretty lady reading.”
    She smirked, thumbing the pages. “So is this a hobby, hanging out in front of libraries and stirring up conversations with pretty ladies?”
    â€œNope, miss, can’t say it is. Most days I don’t say much. Las Vegas is a busy place, and time’s so precious that nobody seems to want to share it with folks who can’t do nothing for ’em.”
    And how true that was, she thought, closing the book. She was here only because she thought a professional Cupid had unearthed someone who would scratch an itch so deep and intangible even she couldn’t pinpoint it.
    â€œMiss? What’s ailing you?”
    Scoffing, she handed him the biography. “That famously infamous question. I was shot some years ago, had a couple of surgeries and now I have a permanent walking buddy.”
    â€œBottom of my heart, I’m sorry to know that,” he said, wrinkling his brow over jaundiced eyes. “I was meaning to ask what’s got you wound tighter than a two-dollar watch, but I guess that’s as good an answer as any.”
    â€œOh. Guess it is.” She for sure