The Bartender (Sweet Texas Love Book 3)

by Shanna Handel

  Wes’ nerves were shot, and he was hanging on by a thread. If anything could go wrong with a pregnancy, it was seeming to with Carrie’s. First, there was the intense morning sickness that seemed to last all day. Carrie would wolf down a huge meal, only to have it come back up. After the first few months went by, Carrie’s blood sugar was found to be high. Sweets, Carrie’s preferred food group, had to be taken off the menu. Wes was watching her like a hawk, he was not going to take a chance on his wife developing gestational diabetes.

  None of those concerns were half as torturing as the day Carrie woke up to a bed of bright, red blood. In an absolute panic, Wes drove her straight to the emergency room, fearing a miscarriage. Calling Ray on the way to the emergency room, Ray helped to calm Wes. There were several reasons for bleeding in pregnancy, Ray told him. After informing Ray that Carrie was happily munching on leftover brisket in his truck while he drove, Ray talked Wes down from worrying about the worst-case scenarios, offering to meet them at the hospital.

  Carrie sat, calm as a cucumber in the front seat, next to him. “Wes, I am so hungry. I really think I’m fine. I wouldn’t be this hungry if there was something wrong,” she said, licking the low sugar barbeque sauce Mama had made, from her fingers. Wes pegged Carrie’s calm demeanor to his wife being in shock.

  In the back of the emergency room, Carrie received an ultrasound. There on the screen, was a happy little baby, moving its’ little arm buds around as if to say, hello. The sound of a strong heartbeat swishing over the machine.

  “Just a little placenta previa,” the doctor told them after the exam. “Nothing to worry about. The placenta is over the cervix. It will cause some bleeding, but usually rights itself in time. If it doesn’t, we will have to schedule a C-section, but no worries about that until we see what it does on its own, in time.”

  A C-section was out of the question for Wes. There would not be the risk of surgery. His heart couldn’t take it. “What can we do to fix it?” he demanded.

  “There is no, fix. You just should be a little more careful. No running, no jumping, no squatting, and no sex.”

  “No sex,” Carrie murmured, looking crestfallen.

  That was the absolute least of Wes’ concerns. “Should she be on bed rest? I mean exactly how much moving can she be doing?”

  “I am not subscribing bedrest, but I want Carrie to take it easy. No horseback riding, that’s for sure,” the doctor said with a wink at Carrie’s red cowboy boots sticking out over the end of the exam table.

  “He put a stop to horseback riding the second we found out I was pregnant,” Carrie said with a wave of her hand.

  “No riding horses, or cowboys for you, I’m afraid,” the doctor said. The two women laughed as Wes sat, fuming in his seat. This was no joking matter. That placenta had better make its way to where it was supposed to be in his wife’s body. Having his wife or baby in danger just wasn’t an option Wes could live with.

  “You are in this bed until that baby is born. Am I making myself clear?” Wes stood over his tiny wife after situating her onto the couch.

  Laying under her quilt, propped up on pillows, Carrie chuckled in response.

  “I am not kidding, Carrie Ann. Look at my face. Do I look like I’m kidding?”

  Carrie looked up, considered Wes’ face, then burst out laughing. Doubling over, Carrie laughed even harder.

  Running his hand through his hair, Wes paced in front of the couch. “Nothing is funny here. You are going to sit in that bed and not move an inch. I’m serious, Carrie Ann.”

  Tears were streaming down his wife’s face. “Oh, Wes. You can’t control everything. What are you going to do next? Spank my placenta till it gets in the right place?” Carrie let out a howl, followed by a peal of laughter.

  Imagining himself spanking a placenta, it wasn’t out of the question for him, Wes felt his shoulders start to shake as an involuntary chuckle made its appearance. “No, I guess I’m not.” Ending his anxious pacing, Wes sat down beside Carrie. Resting his head in his hands, Wes groaned. “But could you just stay in the house, at least?”

  “No, Wes,” Carrie said, drying her eyes on her sleeve. “I’m perfectly fine. You heard the doctor. It’s not like I’m doing gymnastics or anything. It’s just walking.”

  “Stop teasing me,” Wes said sheepishly.

  Getting a hold of herself, Carrie rubbed her hand over Wes’ back. The gentle pressure from her touch felt reassuring. “Wes, all that matters is the baby is fine. I feel like I finally found my purpose in this world.” Reaching into the purse beside her, Carrie pulled out the pictures the ultrasound technician had snuck to her, saying, “Bringing this little baby into the world is all that matters.” Showing the picture to Wes, she asked, reverently, “Look at those little hands, aren’t they precious?” It was against emergency room policy to share images with patients, but no one could say no to Carrie.

  Wes took the picture from Carrie’s outstretched hand. The little baby was still forming in her belly, but it was a precious little baby, his baby, Carrie’s baby. A miracle created from their love for one another. Handing the picture back to Carrie, Wes put a hand on his wife’s small, round belly. “Hey there, little fella,” Wes said softly.

  “What makes you think it’s a boy?” Carrie teased. “I get the feeling we have a little cowgirl in there.” Carrie’s pretty, brown eyes looked shyly up at Wes. “What do you want to name the baby, if it’s a girl?”

  “I want to name her, Carrie,” Wes said, simply.

  “No,” Carrie laughed. “Be serious.”

  “How about, Mama?”

  “No, Wes,” Carrie said, playfully smacking Wes’ shoulder.

  “Well, I’m plumb out. What name do you like?” Wes asked.

  Carrie rubbed her hand over her belly, a habit that she had taken to doing most hours of the day. “I like the name, Rose,” she said, shyly.

  Wes said the name over in his mind. Rose. The name sounded pretty, like the flower it was named for. “It’s beautiful,” Wes said. “Little Rose.”

  It was the first day of Jessica’s grounding.

  “When a woman spends ten thousand dollars in one week, you can’t trust that woman. Right, Miss Jessica?” Ray asked from the driver’s side of the Jeep.

  “Yes, Daddy.”

  “Do you know what I have to do with a woman I can’t trust?”

  “No, Daddy.”

  “I have to keep an eye on her. Keep her by my side. Until I know I can trust her again. Isn’t that right, honey?” Ray asked, giving Jessica’s thigh a tight squeeze.

  “Yes, Daddy,” Jessica said, flushed by the pressure of his hand.

  “You will be right by my side for the next ten days. First stop is the salon.” Ray pulled the Jeep into a parking spot on Main, right in front of, ‘Jessica’s’. Not wanting the salon owner shirking her responsibilities, Ray had Jessica spend a few extra hours in the salon, taking care of any clients who had booked appointments for this week.

  Climbing out of the jeep armed with paper, duct tape, and a brand spanking new black Sharpie marker, Ray got to work. In his perfect handwriting, he lettered another one of his signs. They were becoming famous around Poke Town.

  Trying to peek over his shoulder as he wrote, Ray blocked the paper from Jessica’s sight until he had finished. With a flourish, he tore a piece of duct tape, twisting it into a hook and attaching the paper to the window.

  Feeling her face burning, Jessica read the sign out loud. “Jessica’s is closed till she can learn to behave herself. If you need her over the next few days, the naughty girl can be found attached to her daddy.” Turning to Ray, she said, “Please take that sign down, Ray. This is my place of work,” cringing as she looked back at the black words.

  “Ray, who’s Ray?” he asked, placing a sharp smack on Jessica’s bottom and chuckling at her obvious embarrassment.

  “Please, Daddy,” she murmured, looking up and down the empty street, hoping no one would pass by.

&
nbsp; Laughing, Ray took the sign down. “I’m just teasing you, honey.” With his supplies, Ray made a second sign. Replacing the first with the more discreet message; Jessica’s is making some improvements. Re-opening in ten days.

  “Is that better, baby?” Ray asked.

  “A little bit,” Jessica answered sheepishly.

  “Next stop, the bar.” Walking down Main Street, hand in hand, the couple headed over to Ray’s.

  The sign Ray had hung had been improved upon. Under his handwriting was an angry message in chicken scratch. “Give us our bar back, Ray. Or else.” Chuckling, Ray took the sign down.

  “My money is on Callaway,” Jessica said.

  “I think so. He was here when I hung it up.” Unlocking the door, Ray gestured for Jessica to step inside, following her. “Glenn will be here at noon to take over his new bar.” Jessica and Ray had agreed that though the bar held fond memories for them both, they would enjoy the bar more occasionally as patrons, rather than owners. “Looks like the post office is hiring. I’ll have to keep that in mind for my next career.”

  “I think your next career should be a hobby, as a midwife. With all the money you have stashed away, you can just skip working and we can hang out all day.” To Jessica’s surprise, she was loving spending every minute with Ray. He drove her around, took care of all the expenses, planned the meals. All she had to do was mind her manners and be his good girl. It really wasn’t such a bad gig.

  Turning on the lights, Jessica and Ray meandered around the old bar. The dark wood walls, scuffed wooden floors, and gleaming bar tops were hard to say goodbye to. Wandering over to the jukebox, Jessica picked out the song she desired to hear.

  Turning back to Ray, she asked shyly, “Would you sing this one for me again, Daddy?” Standing by the jukebox, Jessica looked at Ray. At her request, a wide grin spread across his face. The tall, strong man, walked slowly over to her. Jessica closed her eyes as Ray’s huge arms enveloped her body, wrapping around her tightly. Burying his face in her hair, Ray sang the words softly into her ear.

  Oh, my love, My darling

  I've hungered for your touch

  A long, lonely time

  And time goes by so slowly

  And time can do so much

  Are you still mine?

  I need your love

  I need your love

  God speed your love to me

  Lonely rivers flow to the sea, to the sea

  To the open arms of the sea

  Yes, lonely rivers sigh, "Wait for me, wait for me

  I'll be coming home, wait for me

  Ray’s baritone sang out the words, sending chills down Jessica’s spine. She could hear the hunger in his voice, the sadness of the time spent before she was his. Never having heard the lyrics so clearly, Jessica understood why this was the song Ray thought of when he thought of her.

  He had been waiting. For over a decade. For her. Staring into Ray’s shining, warm, brown eyes, tears biting at her own, Jessica whispered, “You were waiting for me, weren’t you, Ray?”

  “Yes,” he answered. “A long, lonely time. I would play this song after you would leave the bar. I wanted you so badly, but I knew it wasn’t meant to be. It was—painful. To want someone so badly to be yours.” Ray wiped at his sparkling eyes. “I loved you from afar. When you kissed me that night on your couch?”

  “Yes,” she interjected. “When you finally told me what I was drinking was Moose Juice,” Jessica laughed at the memory.

  “That’s the night. Our first kiss. When I felt your lips on mine, I knew you were coming home to me. I knew the waiting, the heartache,” his eyes smoldered into hers as he rasped the words, “the hunger, they were all coming to an end.”

  “Lucky me,” Jessica murmured.

  “When a man finally gets the woman of his dreams, he takes superior care of that woman. Knowing every second with her is an absolute gift. And he knows this because of every second that he spent without her,” Ray said, his voice hoarse with emotion.

  “You take the best care of me, Daddy,” Jessica whispered into Ray’s chest.

  “This little punishment might have been my selfish way of having you by my side for every second of every day. Just to feel what it was like.”

  “And how is it, having me all to yourself?”

  “Addictive, delicious, fulfilling in a way I didn’t know existed. Jessica, I want to be with you every moment of every day. I know that’s not possible, so I’m just relishing in this week.”

  “And you are relishing in my punishment?” she asked, eyebrow raised.

  “That too. You really crossed a line, young lady,” Ray grabbed her bottom with his hand, giving it a hard squeeze. “I still have to spank you over that bar.” Ray’s gaze cut over to the gleaming bar top.

  Jessica turned her head over to the bar. During their date nights, after her second glass of wine, Jessica had imagined doing all kinds of things with Ray on that bar. Bending over it for a spanking was not one of them. Turning her gaze back to Ray, he caught her reading his face to see if he was joking.

  “It’s happening, little girl. I have wanted to bend you over that bar and spank you ever since you came in here dancing in those short shorts. Which, if you ever wear again, I am going to rip off and take you right then and there, grocery store, library, I don’t care where we are. Understood?”

  Flushed faced with insides warm and melty, Jessica’s knees went weak. “Yes, Daddy,” she whispered.

  Grabbing her hand and leading her over to the bar, Ray gave Jessica a ravenous once-over that almost made her jeans fall off.

  “Up you go,” Ray held Jessica’s hand as she stepped onto the brass footrest bar that ran around the bottom of the bar. Balancing on tiptoe, Jessica reached her arms over the bar top, holding onto the other end of the bar. “Comfy?” Ray asked.

  “Yes,” Jessica said, holding herself in position. Though not sure how comfortable she was going to be when Ray was done with her.

  “Let me see, what should I spank my girl with?” Walking behind her, Jessica felt like prey being stalked by a predator. Unable to move a muscle, or risk falling, she was trapped. Ray reach his arm alongside her body, grabbing a clean bar towel from the stack he kept behind the bar. Twisting the cloth and flicking it in the air with a loud snap, Ray said, “This should do the trick.”

  “That sounds likes it will sting, Daddy.” The towel snapped again, the sound tightening Jessica’s muscles.

  “It’s for bad girls. I owe you so many spankings in this bar, Miss Jessica. Today for overspending, but in the past, you could have used a caring daddy to spank your bottom. Couldn’t you?”

  “Yes, Daddy.”

  “All those nights, drinking too much, flirting, trying to drive yourself home. What I wouldn’t have given to beat your behind.”

  The towel cracked and snapped biting her bottom. Glad that her bottom was happily covered in strong denim, Jessica sucked in a breath. The next snap came and the sting bit into her.

  “Who’s your daddy, Jessica?” Ray asked, flicking the towel and punishing her twice more.

  “You are, Daddy,” she gasped.

  “Good girl. I like you over the bar, it’s a beautiful sight. But now I want you over my lap.” Ray helped Jessica down from the bar. Seating himself comfortably on a barstool, Ray stood Jessica in front of him. “Take down your jeans.”

  Hot embarrassment burned the skin of her face. Peeking over at the windows facing Main Street, then back at Ray’s determined face, Jessica unsnapped her jeans, unzipped them, and pulled them down to her knees.

  “Good girl,” Ray said, taking in her bare skin. He had told her that under no circumstance over the next ten days, was she allowed to wear panties. “I want you bare in those jeans, your mind on me.”

  Mortified, as well as incredibly turned on, Jessica had nothing to say as she stood before her husband. Guiding Jessica over his lap, the barstool being the perfect height for an over the lap spanking, Ray smoot
hed his hand over her bare bottom. Skin tingling, Jessica did not anticipate the sharp slap. She gasped as Ray spanked the spots that the towel had hit.

  “When Daddy says no more spending, what does that mean, young lady?”

  “No more spending,” she answered between spanks. Ray’s hand was huge, and it came down hard on her bare bottom. He spanked each cheek in turn as he spoke.

  “You were a bad, bad girl. Weren’t you?”

  “Yes, Daddy.”

  “What happens to little girls when they are bad? What do their daddies have to do?”

  “Spank them.”

  “Hard?” Ray asked, pausing his spanking.

  She knew the answer, but with her bottom burning and stinging the way it was, she hated to say it. “Yes, Daddy,” she finally managed to squeak out.

  “That’s right.” Smack, smack, smack, Ray’s hand came down hard and fast.

  Jessica’s bottom was on fire, she started to squirm her hips. Not one to beg during a spanking, Ray was reaching her pain tolerance. “Please, Daddy, I’ll be good.”

  “I know you will. Now, that I’ve taken you in hand.” Two more spanks landed. “You were testing Daddy, weren’t you?”

  “Yes, Daddy, I’m sorry, it won’t happen again!” Jessica was surprised by the tears that came to her eyes, then even more so by the sobs.

  “I’m sure it will, honey, and I will take care of you then, just as I am now.” Patting her bottom gently, Ray lifted Jessica up from his lap. Standing from his stool, he wrapped his arms around his little girl.

  Jeans still around her knees, Jessica melted into Ray’s broad chest as his arms enveloped her. Sobbing, Jessica let Ray hold her as she snuggled further into his chest, wrapping her arms into the burrow she had made.

  Kissing the top of her head, Ray rubbed Jessica’s back. “You needed a good old-fashioned spanking, didn’t you, baby?”

  The headstrong, independent, always in charge before Ray, woman, nodded her head and wiped her tears on her daddy’s shirt. Jessica did not recognize her old self at all in this moment. The feeling of being Daddy’s well cared for, well spanked, and absolutely adored little girl moved her. The peace and comfort of his special care made Jessica complete. And hungry for her daddy’s affection. Reaching up on her tiptoes, Jessica kissed Ray.