by Unknown
“Where?” she asked.
“Red River. Maybe we'll catch a big catfish for our supper.”
“If we don’t?”
“Then I guess we’ll have sex on empty stomachs.” He grinned.
“Who says I’m ready to have sex with a man that shaved his chest?”
He chuckled. “You like it. You’re just mad because I did it for a calendar and not just for you.” Jasmine couldn’t keep the grin off her face. “For the calendar?”
“Hell, yeah! I wouldn’t shave my chest for anyone, not even you. Itches like hell when it’s coming back in, but the Volunteer Fire Department gets a percent-age of all the sales on that calendar.” He pulled out on Highway 81 and turned north.
“Okay, confession! I like it, but I like it better with hair,” she said.
“Oh, yeah?” He drove about six miles and pulled off on a dirt road leading down to the river.
“I like your chest. I like your abs. I like everything about you, Ace,” she said.
“Why, thank you, ma’am,” he drawled. The bridge was on their right and the muddy waters of the Red right ahead when he backed the truck as close to the water as he could and shut off the engine.
She crawled out, kicked off her shoes, and tossed them into the boat and waded out into the cool water. It was shallow, barely reaching her knees, when he reached out, slipped his hands under her arms, and picked her up like she was a feather pillow and set her on one of the swivel padded seats at the back of the boat.
He’d taken off his boots and rolled his jeans up before he unhooked the boat and raised the trailer to let it slide into the water. He slung a leg over the edge of the boat, opened the bench seat in front of them, and pulled out a bottle of sunblock lotion with a rubber band stretched around it.
“What is that?”
“Band is to get your hair off your neck. Sunblock is to keep you from burning. You put up your hair and I’ll lather you up good with the lotion before I start the motor and we get on down the river. There’s a deep hole about three miles from here where the catfish might be biting.”
She finger combed her hair up into a ponytail and secured it with the rubber band. “You think of everything?”
“When I’m taking a beautiful woman out on a date, I do my best. When it’s my wife, I do even better.” His touch was light when he applied lotion to her back and arms. He handed her the bottle and said, “You’d better do your legs. I get that close to your underpants, I’ll have to fight the desire to take them off.”
“You are a rogue.” She giggled.
“No, I’m just an old cowboy who’s married a beautiful woman with the sexiest legs in Texas. No, wait— in Texas and Oklahoma, because we are officially in Oklahoma when we are floating in the river.” He pulled a cord and the engine roared to life. He kept it at a slow, steady speed for twenty minutes before he killed it and let the waves float the boat back toward the bridge at a lazy pace.
“Now what?” she asked.
“Now we fish.” He raised the bench lid, took out a container of worms, picked out one, and threaded it on a hook. “You want me to bait your hook?”
“I’m a big girl. I’ve been fishing a couple of times in my life so I know how to lace a worm on a hook.” She picked up the second rod, unwound the line from around the rod, and took a fat earthworm from the black dirt in the container. She laced the worm onto the hook, held the button down on the reel, and snapped the rod forward, letting the lead weight carry the red and white bobble out into the water.
“Not bad,” he said.
She wasn’t a bit squeamish about handling the worm.
She’d even had her own special way of baiting the hook that impressed him.
He flipped his hook out into the water on the opposite side of the boat. “Who took you fishin’?”
“Pearl’s dad likes to fish. He took us out a few times.
He made us bait our own hooks and told us if we caught a fish we had to learn to clean it. We were bored to death and after the first time we took a book to read,” she said.
“Is it ever going to rain? For June, it’s damn hot.” Ace put the rod in a holder attached to the boat and opened the bench seat again. He brought out a worn straw hat and settled it on his head and a bright pink cap for Jasmine. She flipped the ponytail out the hole in the back and crammed it down until the sweatband was across her forehead.
“Thanks,” she said. “What all do you have in that bench?”
“Everything we need,” he answered.
She nodded and watched the red and white bobble dancing on the water. In the quietness, her thoughts went to Ace and she questioned things like why hadn’t she gone out with Ace when he asked her the first time they met?
BecauseIthoughthewasteasing.
Why hadn’t she made a first move?
BecauseIdidn’t know how his kisses and touchwould affect me.
An hour later the bobble blurred and her chin hit her chest. Ace let out a whoop that scared her awake.
She jerked her head up so fast that she almost fell out of the chair.
“Jazzy, you’ve got a bite.”
The rod was easing out of her hands as the fish swam away taking the rod and reel with it. She grabbed it and held on so tight her knuckles turned white. “What do I do, Ace? I never caught a fish.”
“Thought you’d been fishin’.”
“Been fishin’. Never caught a damn thing because I didn’t want to learn to clean it. Help me.” He put his arms around her and reeled the fish in then let it have a few inches of line before he reeled some more. “It’s a big boy. Don’t know if it’s something for supper or a big old gar, but you’ve got to reel it almost in and if it’s still fightin’ you then you got to give it some line to play it out, and then reel it all the way in.”
He let her have control of the reel but he kept his arms around her. She reeled the fish up nearly to the boat and looked at its big head swishing back and forth.
“Look, Ace, it’s not a gar!”
“I can see that. Looks like a big old blue cat to me.
Easy, now. Don’t lose him. That’s enough for supper and another meal at home.”
“You do it!” she squealed.
“It’s your fish. You either catch it or lose it,” he said.
“Get that net back there. I’ll bring it up close and you catch it in the net,” she said.
“You sure you don’t want to flip him up in the boat like a real fisherman?”
“No, I want to eat, not play,” she said.
Ace grabbed the net, reached down, and scooped up a five- pound catfish. “Yep, you are definitely bringing home the bacon tonight, Jazzy. And since you are supplying the food, I’ll do the cooking.”
“Does that mean the date is over and we’re going home? I’m not ready to go home, Ace. It’s not dark.
Can’t we fish some more?” she asked.
“Darlin’, it means the date is barely starting.” She drew her bare feet up in the chair to keep the fish from flopping on her. “Then we are going to fish some more?”
“Nope, now we go to shore and tie up the boat and I cook,” he said.
“Out here?”
“Best fish in the world is what is cooked on the banks of the river,” he answered.
He jerked the rope and started the engine again, steered the boat up the river a mile or so and then back to the shore where he hopped out and tied it to an old tree stump. She stepped out over the side into ankle- deep water and looked back at the fish.
“How do we get that thing to shore without losing him?”
“In the net. You carry this blanket and get comfortable up under that willow tree and leave the rest to me.
Take a nap and when you wake up supper wil be ready.”
“Are you teasing?” she asked.
“No, ma’am. I won’t eat all your fish. I’ll wake you when it’s done. You were played out just before you got that fish. You worked hard all morning. Let me
pamper you the rest of today,” Ace said.
“That is so sweet,” she said.
“That’s me. Good- timin’, sweet cowboy,” he said.
“Yes, you are.” She carried the blanket to the shade where she flipped it out and sat down. He made one trip from boat to shore to bring the cooler and a strange-looking black pot; another trip to bring the second blanket and a jug of oil; and a third to tote in the big fish.
Jasmine sat on the blanket and watched. She was tired but she couldn’t sleep. Watching him working so hard to pamper her real y was so sweet. He started a small fire with twigs that he’d gathered near the site, set up a rigging that the black pot hung from, and poured it full of oil. While that heated he cleaned the fish, rolled the fillets in a corn meal mixture he brought out of the cooler, and laid them on a paper plate.
She pointed at the cooler. “You got a beer in there?” He pulled out an icy cold one and carried it to her.
“You were supposed to be sleeping. How can Prince Charming awake Sleeping Beauty if she’s wide awake?”
“Honey, this is not a fairy tale,” she said.
Ace sat down beside her. “Peaceful, ain’t it?” She nodded and handed him the beer. “Have some.
It’s peaceful, but it’s stil hot as the devil’s pitchfork.
Cold beer tastes really good.”
“Not as good as that fish is going to taste,” he said.
She slung a leg over him and sat in his lap, drew his face down to hers, and kissed him hard. “Ace, this is a wonderful date.”
He chuckled, picked her up, and set her down beside him. It was either that or forget the fish and make love to her. And he’d planned much more before that happened.
“Ten minutes and you’ll have the best fish you’ve ever eaten. Oil should be hot enough to float it in that length of time.”
“Float it?”
“When it floats, it’s done. I’ll scoop it up and bring it to you. You never cooked fish?”
She shook her head. “I like it but I don’t cook it.
Tried a couple of times but it came out soggy.” He dropped the breaded fish into the hot oil and it bubbled. While it cooked he went out to the boat and brought a big paper bag to the blanket. From that he produced paper plates, a roll of paper towels, a loaf of bread, and a container of tartar sauce and one of coleslaw.
“Forks?” He pulled plastic ones from the sack.
“You’re pretty good at this,” she said.
By then the first batch of fish was done. He scooped it up from the hot oil onto a paper towel- lined plate and carried it to her. He picked up a piece of fish and held it up to her mouth. “Taste.”
“Mmmmmm,” she mumbled as she chewed.
It was hot and then it was hot. Something in the corn-meal had added spicy hot to the fire hot, giving it a wonderful flavor. She wrapped the next piece up in a slice of bread and added tartar sauce, making a fish sandwich.
“Not bad for this time of year. Sometimes it gets muddy tasting when the river gets low, but the early rains this spring helped keep the river flowing.”
“What makes it hot?” she asked.
“Fire.” He laughed.
“You know what I’m talking about.”
“Good fisherman doesn’t share his secrets. Not even with his beautiful wife. Got to have something to keep her coming back for more. If she knows how to cook hot fish then she wouldn’t need him anymore.”
“You didn’t share with any of those five- star women?” she asked.
“Darlin’, I’ve never cooked fish for another woman. This is usually one of those BFF things that men do while you women do one of your girls’ night out things. And let me tell you something about that book. It don’t matter how many names are in the book.
The only one that matters is the name that makes a man burn it.”
Jasmine looked into his eyes. She knew him well, and he was not teasing. He was dead serious. “Even if the man didn’t want to burn it but was forced into it because his brothers were sitting in the living room and they’d find out the marriage wasn’t what it appeared to be on the surface?” she asked.
Ace ran his forefinger down her jawline.
Every nerve ending in her body was suddenly hotter than the fish.
“Darlin’, if I’d wanted that book I wouldn’t have let Lucy burn it. I’d have slipped around behind your back and talked her into giving it back to me. Yours was the name that made me ready to get rid of the book. Keep eating. Date night is not over until curfew. Isn’t that about midnight when there’s kids in the house?” She giggled. “Sounds about right.”
“The sun is beautiful when it sets over the water this time of year. Ever made love on the banks of the river under a willow tree?”
“No, but I betcha I’m about to find out what it’s like,” she said.
“All in due time, sweetheart. Now we eat, then we skinny- dip, and then we make love and wallow around in that afterglow stuff before we go home.”
“You really are a romantic, Ace Riley.”
“Of course I am. Good- timin’ cowboys are always romantic.”
“Egotistical, too!”
“Now, don’t be startin’ a fight, darlin’. Eat your fish and then we’ll take us a nice nap until the moon comes up.”
“What’s the moon got to do with anything?” she asked.
“It’s a surprise.”
They ate and he packed the rest of the fish fillets into the chest with the ice.
They napped with her snuggled up against his side even though they were both sweating hot, and he awoke her with sweet kisses and a nod toward the west where the sun was setting over the river in a whole array of browns, oranges, and deep yellows.
“There is the moon,” she said.
“Yes, so it’s time to go skinny- dipping in the moonlight. I’ve been lookin’ forward to seeing you all wet in the moonlight again ever since we made love in the creek,” he said.
“Are you serious? Is it deep enough to swim?”
“Right here it is and since I’m pampering you, I get to take those cute little shorts off and untie that thing behind your neck.”
She giggled and sat up. “Have at it. I like this pampering business.”
They skinny- dipped and he wiggled through the water like a fish, nibbling at her toes and making her squeal when he ran his hands up her inner thighs. Like two innocent children romping in the water, they played and Jasmine loved every minute of it.
And then he carried her back to the blanket. They were wet and naked; cool on the outside, hot as hell on the inside. She sat on her knees with him in front of her with a foot of space between them. He leaned forward and licked a drop of water from her lower lip. She leaned forward and put so much passion into the kiss that he was instantly aroused and ready.
“Slow,” he mumbled.
“Slow it is, but closer. I want to feel you.” He opened his arms and she moved into them.
His hands splayed out against her back.
Her fingers tangled into his wet hair and pulled his mouth back down to hers for more wet, wild kisses. Just how slow was slow, anyway, she wondered.
“You are so very lovely by the moonlight,” he said.
She didn’t even think about that being a line. His tone and his body language said that he was talking to her, not reciting pickup lines.
“You are a wet Greek god,” she muttered as she ran her hands over his slick chest.
“Never been called that before,” he said. “But I like it.” He covered her mouth with his and tasted the remnants of fish and river water. “I want you so bad, Jasmine.” She wrapped her legs around him and didn’t even see the possum stealing bread from the other side of the blanket.
It wasn’t sex.
They made sweet, passionate love.
And the climax brought an afterglow that wrapped itself around them like a golden aura and they slept again in a world where no words were necessary.
When s
he awoke, he was propped on an elbow staring down at her, his eyes softer and more dreamy than they’d ever been before. “You truly are beautiful, Jazzy,” he said hoarsely.
“So are you, Ace.”
“Beautiful?”
“Handsome, sexy, beautiful, and one very, very hot cowboy.”
“Even with a shaved chest?’
“It’s only hair. It’ll grow back.” She ran a hand over his sleek chest and kissed each nipple. “This was the most wonderful date I’ve ever been on.”
“Me too, Jazzy.”
Chapter 22
On Tuesday Will called Jasmine to ask a favor. It was hay season in his world too, but he was caught up until the end of the week and Pearl needed a girls’ night out. She was stir- crazy and bone tired after three weeks of twins.
“And she’s weepy. Help me, please,” Will said.
“How about I bring Gemma and Lucy and we watch the boys and let the two of you have dinner and a movie?” Jasmine offered.
“Sounds wonderful, but I want her to have a night away from it al . I’ve talked to Rye and Raylen and they’re willin’ to come help me out,” Will answered.
“Okay, I’ll call in the troops. What night are you thinking?”
“Tomorrow,” Will said quickly.
“Then tomorrow it is.”
“I owe you one, Jasmine. She’ll be so excited.” So on Wednesday night, Rye, Will, and Raylen were left behind at Will's ranch house with two baby boys, one baby girl, a list of instructions, and the remote control.
Will kissed Pearl at the door and told her not to worry about anything and to have a good time.
“I can’t go, Will. What if they need me? What if Jesse wants to be rocked at bedtime and you can’t get him to sleep? What if one of them gets sick and you have to take him to the hospital? I can’t go,” Pearl fretted.
Jasmine looped her arm through Pearl’s. “Three strong men can take turns rocking Jesse and if one of the boys gets sick, we’re barely thirty minutes away and you can even keep your cell phone on all night, which is against the rules on girls’ night out. You are coming with us so stop your worrying.”
Will mouthed a “thank you” to Jasmine as she talked Pearl out onto the porch.
Rye kissed Austin and whispered that he was a pro at the father business and he’d take care of everything.