“Granny!” Lily rolled her eyes. “We’ve heard that story. Let’s go home and you can listen to us practice reading our books for story hour next week. Mama-Nanny said we can go back and she even lets us stay all by ourselves while she runs errands.”
“Is that right? I thought you didn’t want to be away from her,” Lorraine said.
Lily sighed loudly. “It’s only an hour, and we’re big girls.”
“But you didn’t want to go to Houston this morning.”
Gabby clapped her hands over her cheeks. “Do you know what chicken pox does to a girl’s face? We’re going to be country music stars. We can’t have nasty scars on our faces. Mama-Nanny understands that.”
“But…” Lorraine started.
“And if we went, you might make us get a shot just in case,” Lily said.
“What is going on here?” Mason asked.
“A mother who overthinks things, evidently,” Lorraine said.
“I don’t know what that means,” Lily said. “But I’m ready to go home and eat supper. I’m hungry enough to eat a bear.”
“Would you eat O’Malley?” Gabby asked.
“Hell… heck, no! He’s a cat, not a bear.”
“Would you eat Jeb?”
Lily narrowed her eyes at her sister. “No, I would not, but if you don’t be quiet, I will barbecue Djali, earring and all, and eat him.”
“Daddy, we should leave her at home when we go see Carrie Underwood. She’s too mean to go. She said she’d eat Djali.”
“Looks like you two aren’t as nice as I thought you were,” Lorraine said.
“Ah, Granny, we’re nice. We just ain’t nice all the time. That would be boring. Remember? That’s what Grandpa told you this morning on the way home from the airport when he told you not to start a ruckus. What is a ruckus anyway?” Lily asked. “Is it something like a hissy fit?”
“No, silly! A hissy fit is what Janie throws when we leave cow shit on our boots and she has to clean it off,” Gabby smarted off.
Lily pointed at her sister and tattled. “She cussed, Daddy. She don’t get to go with us.”
“Nice just ended,” Mason groaned.
Chapter 24
Annie Rose left the door cracked into her apartment but didn’t turn on a single light or even light a candle. She heard every sound, from the buzz of the refrigerator motor to the crickets outside and one lonesome old coyote howling at the moon. An antsy feeling put an extra skip in her pulse and she knew he was close. Her ears strained as they tried to pick up the sound of Mason’s footfalls, but she didn’t hear the third step squeak or boots coming down the stairs. It wasn’t until she felt his presence in the dark room that she realized he was there.
Before she could say a word, he brushed a soft kiss across her lips and scooped her up into his arms. His warm breath tickled her ear and sent shivers down her whole body when he whispered in a soft Texas drawl, “Shhh! I’m kidnapping you.”
When they reached the back porch, he sat down on the top step and shifted her over beside him while he shoved his feet down into the boots sitting beside the door. “Now hand me a foot and I’ll put your boots on you. We’ll be walking a ways.”
“Why?”
“Noise.”
She suppressed a giggle and controlled the blush, but sneaking out was as exciting as it had been when she was a teenager. More so, because she’d never snuck out with someone like Mason Harper. She wondered where they were going as she laced her fingers in his and let him lead the way, but she really didn’t care where it was as long as they were together.
“Are we going to the hayloft?” she asked when he started walking down the rutted four-wheeler path.
“No, somewhere prettier. The truck is parked right over there under that big pecan tree. We’ll drive from there. You are gorgeous with the moonlight dancing on your blond hair. May I have this dance?” He pulled her close to his chest, picked up her hands, and looped them around his neck.
“Music?” she asked.
“The tree frogs and crickets are doing a good job of providing that.” He started humming an old love song that she recognized immediately. The vibrations from his body to hers were so sensual that her chest tightened and her knees went crazy weak.
The song ended and he stepped back, picked up her hand, and kissed the palm. “Thank you, ma’am. Save the last dance of the evening for me, please.”
“Why?” she asked.
“Because your last partner is the one you go home with, and I want you to go home with me, Annie Rose.”
“Then I’ll put your name on every page of my dance card for this evening,” she said.
He picked her up again and carried her to the truck. “Do you trust me, Annie Rose?”
“More than you’ll ever know,” she said.
“Do you love me, Annie Rose?”
“More than words can say,” she answered.
“I feel the same about you.” His lips met hers in a hungry kiss, pregnant with the promise of something even better later on. Then he set her down and opened the pickup door.
“Where are we going?”
“Somewhere quiet and secluded.” He chuckled.
After several curves, he parked beside a bubbling, clear creek and she crawled out of the truck. Crickets and frogs joined voices for a nighttime, country music concert. A sweet little summer breeze ruffled the mesquite and willow branches and a hoot owl added his tone to the music.
She kicked off her boots and socks, rolled up the legs of her jeans, and plopped down close enough to the cold water that she could stick her feet in it. “That feels so good.”
“You sit right there and don’t even turn around until I get the surprise ready.” He dropped another kiss on her forehead.
She could hear the noise of a quilt snapping out over the grass and the soft sigh as it floated down to rest. Then a glass rattled, and the faint smell of sulfur was in the air. Wine and candles and a quilt under the willow tree, with stars glistening in a perfect sky—far better than a fancy hotel.
Mason slipped a hand under her knees and one around her shoulder and carried her a few feet back from the water to a quilt under a weeping willow tree. Rose petals were scattered all over it and two jar candles cast a dim light at the top where two pillows rested.
He laid her down gently, making sure her head was resting on a soft pillow. The willow branches held the sweet, soft smell of roses close, as if they were walls. It wasn’t until he stretched out beside her that she realized he had kicked off his boots and socks. He reached across the space separating them and took her hand in his, lacing her small fingers into his and just holding it there, as if that was enough.
“I want to touch you, to undress you, and kiss you, but for five minutes we are going to hold hands and look at the stars. If we say a word, it has to be about each other, not family, not past, not future, not kids. Just us. I’ll go first. I love having you in the house. I love the way you look at me with those big blue eyes. I love eating breakfast with you,” he said.
She grazed the edge of his forefinger and thumb. “Do you believe in fate?”
“Tonight I believe in magic.”
“I never believed in fate until now. I thought we chose our own paths, faced the consequences of our decisions, and fate was a myth that showed up in romance books and fortune tellers’ tents. But I think fate brought me to the ranch and made me sleep longer than I’d planned to on the porch,” she said.
“Then thank you, fate,” he said. “See that star up there? The bright one hanging right below the moon? That is the fate star. It led you to the ranch and to me.”
She rolled up on an elbow and said, “Whether five minutes are up or not, I’m going to kiss you, Mason.” She threw a leg over him and straddled his waist, leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. The first kiss was pa
infully sweet, but the second deepened, and the third was hungry, eager, and wanting more than that moment, aching for a future together with Mason.
When she broke away to catch her breath, he sat up slowly, eyes never leaving hers, and unbuttoned her shirt, one button at a time. It took forever and was deliciously sexy. His fingertips barely touched the tops of her aching breasts, then her abdomen, and finally her belly button. Everywhere he touched created a little fire that grew into one big blaze.
“My turn,” she said.
She unfastened his shirt, laid it open, and started a string of soft butterfly kisses from his chin, down his neck, across his chest, and to the big silver belt buckle.
“I want you,” he said with so much sweetness that her eyes misted.
“They will find nothing but a belt buckle and ashes in a pile of wilted rose petals when they come looking for us, if we don’t put out this fire that burns within us,” she whispered.
He peeled off her shirt and unhooked her bra, tossed both of them toward the bottom of the quilt and added his shirt to the mix. “Now I will unwrap the rest of the present.”
“Just remember I get to unwrap after you do,” she said.
He pulled off her boots, undid her jeans, and pulled them all the way to her toes. His kisses on the tips of her toes made her wiggle and moan. By the time he reached her knees, she was arching against him and tugging at his belt buckle.
Forget foreplay. Forget making love. She wanted satisfaction. Would it always be like that with him?
Well, it has been ever since the first time in the shower, hasn’t it?
She pulled him on top of her and wrapped her legs around him. He took care of the condom and slid into her with a long, hard thrust, and she rocked with him. He was right, though. They were making love, not having sex, and it was more intense, sweeter, and more satisfying than ever before.
“I. Love. You,” she said in a hoarse whisper.
His lips found hers, and without words, she knew that he was telling her the same thing. Mason did love her. Where their relationship went next or how it progressed didn’t matter. Annie Rose had found the right cowboy, the right place, her soul was at home, and she was not leaving.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Oh, yeah,” she said.
“I love you, Annie Rose.”
And the whole world around her softened into colors that blended together. Light willow tree green, fuzzy stars, and a moon that didn’t have distinct edges. Satisfaction, pure and simple, was hers, and she truly felt as if she’d been made love to for the very first time.
“That was beyond amazing,” she said.
“Yes, ma’am.” He shifted his position, picked her up, and carried her to the creek.
“Skinny-dipping?” she asked.
“No, just washing up and then we’re going to roll that quilt up around us and sleep for a while. Even though we’ll have to leave before daylight, I want to wake up with you in my arms.”
The cool water felt wonderful on her feverishly hot skin, but words could not describe the feeling when she was wrapped in the quilt with Mason. His arm around her was security. The night breezes coming off the cool creek water and feathering her hair back was magical. The stars and moon hung there especially for them, and the sweet smell of roses permeated through the night air.
Everything was absolutely perfect. This was going to be their place forever. Instead of Paris or London or even Dallas, this was where they were going when they fought, when they had a few minutes of alone time or when they needed to get away and reconnect.
***
“Looks like your truck has some creek sand in the tires,” Skip said the next morning.
Mason shrugged.
“Thought y’all took four-wheelers on the tour yesterday.”
“I don’t kiss and tell.”
“You just did. By the way, Nash says to tell you when you get ready to marry that girl, he’d like an invitation to the wedding.” Skip smiled.
“You’re kiddin’ me. Nash hasn’t left that piece of ground in years.”
“I know, but that’s what he said. He told me he needed a couple of days’ notice to get his black suit cleaned and his hair cut.”
“I’ll be damned. He only met her the one time,” Mason said.
“He said to tell you that he’s almost a hundred, not to drag your feet. I spent some time with him last night and he told me I was wrong about Annie Rose. I respect his opinion, Mason. He’s the best judge of character that I’ve ever known.”
Mason chuckled.
“I’d say that we’d best get this feeding done so you can spend some time with your folks. Ain’t they leavin’ today? Unless you intend to keep them here a couple of extra days, so Nash can get his suit cleaned and they won’t have to come back real soon,” Skip said.
Mason nodded. “He can get it cleaned, but there won’t be a wedding this week. And for your information, Mother’s got a burr in her underbritches about Annie Rose. She got in a worse snit over not getting to take the girls to Houston, and the crazy thing is that Doc says they have had the shots. But if they hadn’t, I’d have had to drape the mirrors to save my sanity and their vanity.”
“Lorraine told me that she’s afraid Annie Rose will leave and break their hearts,” Skip said.
“Not if I have anything to do with it,” Mason said.
Skip smiled. “I’ll tell Nash to at least get the suit out of the mothballs. Now let’s get this feeding done with.”
Mason was amazed that Nash even considered coming out of his hermit state to go to a wedding. What was it about Annie Rose that he liked? The old guy had never liked Holly, and she hadn’t liked him. It wasn’t long after they’d married that he went into hibernation and refused to step foot off the five acres that he’d fenced in and called his retirement estate.
Life sure had gotten stirred up since Annie Rose showed up on his porch. Could it really have been less than a month ago? It seemed like he and Annie Rose had been together for years—like they’d been soul mates since they were babies.
Mason headed for the driver’s side of the truck. “It’s strange, isn’t it? You think you got a plan all figured out for the next five or ten or fifty years, and then fate steps in and tosses a wrench into the mix.”
Skip got into the passenger’s side. “Don’t make plans. That’s my theory. When something feels right, do it and don’t make a big deal out of it.”
Chapter 25
When Annie Rose heard something in the backyard, she figured the goats had gotten loose that early Friday morning. The sun was barely peeking through the limbs of the mesquite trees when she rushed out to herd the two pesky critters back into their pen, but the goats were in their pen. A movement caught her eye and there was no mistaking Nash riding a horse bareback down the rutted lane.
Mason said Nash hadn’t left his place in years and yet there he was on a paint horse, gray hair shining in the first light of morning. Something brushed against her leg and right there on the porch was a small red rosebush with the roots wrapped in a wet burlap bag. The early morning breeze picked up the soft scent and reminded her of the night she and Mason had spent on the banks of the creek.
Mason slipped up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. “What’s going on?”
“Nash came to visit and left me a present. Can we plant it in the front yard right beside the porch, so I can see it when I’m sitting on the porch swing?” she asked.
“I’ll be damned,” he said.
“Does that mean yes or no?”
“It means we can put it anywhere you want. I’ll take it around there for you right now and after breakfast we can plant it. This is the first time I’ve known him to leave his place since he moved out there. Are you sure it was him and he didn’t send it with Skip?”
“Does he ri
de a paint horse bareback?”
“That’s Nash, all right. He must like you a lot.”
***
They’d planned to take the girls to the rodeo on Saturday, but when the girls found out that Blake Shelton was playing the rodeo the following weekend, they set up a howl to put it off for a week.
On Saturday morning, Annie Rose awoke when Mason slipped out of her bed and headed for his room. She pulled on jeans and a shirt, made a cup of tea in the microwave, and carried it to the front porch. She caught a whiff of her new rosebush beside the porch and inhaled deeply.
Something smelled different than roses. It took a minute for her to locate the quart-sized jar stuffed full of gorgeous wildflowers in a profusion of colors. They were arranged around a weeping willow branch. She had no doubt that Nash had left them.
Mason joined her on the swing and slipped an arm around her shoulders. “Good morning, darlin’. Did I wake you when I left?”
“I feel empty when you aren’t beside me,” she said.
He pulled her closer. “Me, too, Annie Rose. It’s going to be a beautiful day.”
She pointed at the flowers. “It’s starting off right.”
Mason chuckled. “Evidently he approves of where you put the rosebush.”
“Evidently he found rose petals beside the creek,” she said.
“I’ll be damned,” Mason said.
“That’s what you said yesterday morning.” She laughed.
“I know, but I still can’t believe it.”
“He’s a sweet old cowboy.”
“He and Holly didn’t get along,” Mason said.
“Well, I don’t really know him, but I like him. When I’m almost a hundred, I’m going to put a trailer right beside the creek and become a hermit like him.”
Mason pulled her closer to his side. “So you’re planning to be around when you are a hundred?”
“I guess I am,” she said. “Do you think he’d mind if I took them inside?”
“They are your flowers, honey, but remember, those pretty red ones house chiggers. When we brought Mama wildflowers, she always left them on the porch. She put a saucer of water under them so the chiggers couldn’t crawl out of the flowers and get on us,” he answered.
How to Marry a Cowboy (Cowboys & Brides) Page 25