by Tessa Layne
“Hell, yes. Town Topic’s an institution. The only thing they lack is green chile.”
I cock my head, puzzled.
“Green chile is the single best condiment ever.”
“Better than barbecue sauce?”
“Definitely.”
“Mustard?”
“Mustard is for hot dogs and brats. Green chile is for everything.”
I kiss her on the nose. “You’re funny.”
“Tell me that after a bowl of my mother’s posole. You’ll see the light.”
“So are you inviting me to your family’s for dinner?”
She smiles coyly and ducks her head. “Maybe.”
I stop and pump my fist into the air. “That means I’ve convinced you to stay.” I glance at my watch. “And it only took six hours.”
“Not so fast, hotshot.” She stops and lets me hold the door open for her. “That’s still a maybe.”
“I’m okay with pulling out the big guns.”
She drops onto a stool. It’s early enough in the evening, the place isn’t wall to wall people. Give it another two hours, and there won’t be room to turn around. “Now I’m morally obligated to hold out until I see those guns,” she teases, giving my bicep a squeeze.
I take her hand, lacing my fingers through hers. My voice drops. “I’d give you the world on a string if you’d give us a chance.” The strangest look comes over her face. Fuck. Maybe I’ve said too much.
But then she breaks into a wide smile. “I don’t need the world. Just a cheeseburger, onion rings, and a strawberry shake.”
“No pie?”
She scoffs. “Are you kidding? No pie even comes close to Dottie’s,” she says referring to Prairie’s matriarch and diner owner. “There’s no point in eating pie unless you’re at Dottie’s.”
I can’t argue with her. I’ve received enough pie and advice from the older woman to know. “Then maybe we can drive to Prairie for dessert?” Not exactly how I’d imagined spending the rest of the evening, but I’d do it for Luci.
“Silly, she closed at three.” She looks away, then back at me. “But you could drive out with me on Thursday so I can sell my truck, and then bring me back to the airport? I could introduce you to my family, we could eat pie…” her voice trails off.
“How about I take you out on Thursday to meet your family and have pie, but then you come back to my place? I still have time left on the clock to change your mind.” My chest tightens painfully at the thought of dropping her at the airport. I guess I should feel good about the fact she wants me to meet her family. That’s a win. And she wouldn’t invite me home if I was just a fling, right? A spark of hope ignites in my belly.
I place our order, asking for the same thing as Luci, except with a chocolate shake. Her eyes light. “Chocolate and strawberry is the perfect pairing.”
“Does that mean you like sharing your shake?”
She nods. “But not my onion rings. I’ll fight you over them.”
“I’d let you win.”
Her cheeks turn the prettiest shade of rose. “There you go being sweet again.” Her breath hitches and she looks away. “You really should stop.”
“Why is that?”
Her eyes dart back to mine. There’s turmoil in her beautiful dark eyes. “Keep it up, and a girl might fall for you.”
The air between us grows thick with tension. There’s so much I want to say, and yet we’re already rushing things. “I want to know everything about you. Your craziest childhood memory, how you learned to cook. Your greatest heartbreak,” I add.
The waiter delivers our food, and Luci reaches for the onion rings, munching on one as she stares at me thoughtfully, as if weighing how much of herself she’s willing to reveal. I bite back a groan when her tongue slips out to catch the crumbs left on her lower lip. God, I want to lick every square inch of her body.
She bursts out laughing. “Did you mean to say that?”
“Shit. Did I say that out loud?” I join in with my own laugh.
“I’ll let you, you know.” She flicks an eyebrow at me and pops another onion ring in her mouth. “When we get to your place.”
“Noted.”
We dig into our burgers, and the sound of pure pleasure Luci makes after her first few bites, goes straight to my dick. “God,” she says between bites. “There is nothing better than a juicy burger.”
I can think of plenty of things better, most of them having to do with making Luci moan my name, but I get her point. It’s a damn good burger, and the onion rings are perfectly crisp on the outside.
“So. Biggest heartbreak. Not to beleaguer a point, but not having my grant proposal funded tops the list.”
I cringe. I hate that it happened. “I promise from here on out, I’ll read every single one. I was wrong to delegate it.”
“Why not put together a task force to read the proposals? I bet Dottie would help round up the right people.”
It’s a great idea. I lean over and kiss her cheek. “You’re brilliant, you know that?”
“I have my moments,” she answers with a smile.
“But seriously, no heartbreaks from boys?”
She scoffs. “Are you kidding? Between my dad, my brothers, and my cousins, no boy was allowed to get close enough to even ask me out. And I was so driven in college that I pretty much scared all the boys off. Which is fine, really. They didn’t have much to offer, and if they’re not going to appreciate this—” She pulls her hand from her shoulder to her hip, showing off those curves I adore. “Then they’re not worth a second thought.”
“Selfishly, I’m glad,” I admit. I like the idea that what is developing between us is special and unique for both of us. “So, craziest childhood memory?”
She laughs. “I watched my brother Tony try to poke a rattlesnake once. I must have been six or seven. There was another time when Tony and my cousins snuck one of my dad’s shotguns and set up a target range. I was ten, and they thought it would be funny to teach me to shoot, and not warn me about the kickback. I don’t think I’ve ever seen my dad so mad. He sent us all to hunter safety that spring.”
I’m sure my jaw is on the floor. “Are you kidding me?”
She shrugs nonchalantly. “When you grow up running cattle, you learn to shoot.” She grins at me. “Turns out, I’m a damned good shot.”
“Of course you are.”
“Are you sure you want to know how I learned to cook? It’s quite boring, actually.”
“Not to me, it isn’t,” I growl before taking a long drink of my shake.
“They did it to keep me out of trouble. I was a climber. As soon as I learned to walk, I climbed.”
The picture of her as a chubby-cheeked toddler with enormous dark brown eyes, and black Cindy Loo Who pigtails pops into my head. And I can’t help but imagine what a baby from us would look like.
She continues. “So to keep me out of trouble, they gave me a stool and had me start making tortillas with my abuela. By the time I was four, they let me handle a small serrated knife, and the rest is history.”
“But when did you fall in love with it?”
Her face lights up. “I think I always was in love with it. When you meet my family, you’ll see. The kitchen is the heart of our home. And everything ‘Buela made came from a place of deep love. Food is the deepest expression of our love for each other, for the people we cook for.” She shakes her head, still lost in her thoughts of family. “It’s corny to say this, but it feels almost… sacred.”
I take her hand again, wanting some of that love she feels for her family to rub off on me. “I think it’s beautiful. I love it.” I raise my milkshake and tap it against hers. “Has anyone ever told you how special you are?”
Her eyelashes brush against her cheekbones and a flush creeps up her neck. “Only you.”
“Then I aim to make up for lost time. You need to be told that over and over again.”
She takes another sip of her shake, licking her lips a
t the end, then meets my gaze. “I think that’s our cue to leave.”
Chapter Eleven
Mason
M y palms sweat as we ride the elevator to the top floor of my building. I want her to like it, but more importantly, I want her to feel at home in my space. The elevator opens up into a wide foyer with floor to ceiling windows on one side, and an enormous mural of the Grand Canyon spanning the wall. On a low table stands an original Remington, one of my first art purchases.
Luci lets out a low whistle as she steps out of the elevator. “Is this you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Is it you? Or did you hire a fancy decorator?”
“I hired a painter, but the artwork is mine.”
“Huh.” She looks around with a little nod. “Nice.”
A ripple of excitement shoots through me. I can count on one hand the number of women I’ve brought home. And with the exception of Luci, none of them have been interested in anything beyond my bank account. I can’t wait to see her reaction to the piece over my fireplace. I hold out my hand. “You want the tour?”
“Of course.” She gives me a look that says duh.
I lead her down a short hallway that opens to the great room with windows and sliding doors out to my rooftop patio. At the center stands an enormous two-way fireplace.
Luci gasps. “Holy shit.” She leaves my side and steps into the room to get a closer look. “Is that a Georgia O’Keefe painting?”
I grin. “Like it?”
“Ohmygod I love it. Are you kidding? My mom’s family’s been in Northern New Mexico since the fifteen hundreds.” She turns around, taking in the heavy leather furniture, the roughhewn wood and metal coffee table, the cow skin in front of the hearth, then cocks her head at me when she meets my gaze again. “Are you a secret cowboy?” She’s clearly amused.
Warmth bursts across my chest. “More of a fantasy rancher, I guess. I like going out on the occasional cattle drive.”
“You ride?”
“Sure. Blake taught me years ago.”
She shakes her head in disbelief. “You’re a secret cowboy. I love it.” She sweeps a hand around the room. “I love this. It’s not at all what I expected, and it feels… homey.”
“Wait until you see the kitchen.”
“Don’t tell me you’re a secret chef, too?”
“Not at all. But I think you’ll like what you see.” I escort her to the kitchen feeling more like a kid at Christmas than I have any right to, but I love seeing her excited.
She lets out a squeal when she sees the Viking professional stove, professional refrigerator, and wall ovens. She stares at me, saucer-eyed. “But if you’re not a chef?”
“Sometimes I host events here, and I hire caterers to come in and cook.”
“Do you know how to use the stove?”
I let out a belly laugh. “My mother insisted we all learn to cook. I’m not great, but I can fend for myself.”
Luci opens the refrigerator, peers in, then turns back, puzzled. “But there’s nothing in here except beer, eggs, and cheese.”
“I’ve been in New York for a week.”
“We should go shopping then. Because that—” she nods back at the fridge. “Is pathetic.”
I pull her into my arms. “That may be. And while I love the idea of going grocery shopping with you, I love the idea of showing you my bedroom better.” I lower my head and gently take her mouth, savoring our connection, grateful that now we can take our time. I don’t want anything about this to be rushed. I want to linger over every inch of her satin skin until I know it as well as my own. Her mouth opens eagerly, tongue sliding against mine, hands wrapping around my neck as she presses her body to mine.
We stand there, lost in each other for who knows how long. Time holds no importance, there’s only Luci, only us, communicating in a language as old as time itself. I could stay planted here, kissing her, forever. I never want this to stop. When we do, she gazes up at me through glassy eyes. “You said something about a bedroom?”
“Indeed.” I bend and scoop her up, carrying her across the great room, and down a short hall to the Master Bedroom. I pause just inside the door and flip a switch that turns on a series of small lights, flooding the room in amber light and highlighting the enormous photo above my bed — one of my favorites — a Scott Bean photo of the Flint Hills at sunset.
“It’s breathtaking,” she says.
“Not as breathtaking as you are,” I murmur, kissing her, because there’s nothing better in the world than kissing Luci.
“There you go being sweet again.” Her voice is husky. Soft. Music in my ears.
“I only speak the truth.”
She stares up at me and draws her fingers down my cheek. “How did we never connect before this?” she half-whispers.
“I’m sorry we didn’t.”
“Me, too.”
A knot presses against the base of my throat. This feels… big. And I can’t help but regret the lost time. If I’d paid more attention, been less hung up about propriety, been a little bolder, we could have been dating for years, now. And I wouldn’t be rushing to convince her to give me, us, a chance in the span of twenty-four hours. “Luci, I…” Words fail me.
“I know,” she answers, eyes soft and luminous. She cups my cheek, thumb skating across my lower lip. “I feel it, too.” Her voice says everything our words can’t. She tilts her chin and offers up her mouth. The movement is so sweet, so trusting, it pierces me. I’ve never understood what it meant to ache for someone, until now.
I lower my head, heart in my throat, because this kiss is a union of two souls. She makes a tiny noise of surrender in the back of her throat, and I answer in kind. Two hearts surrendering to whatever the bigness is between us. There’s so much feeling in our kiss, like we’re each baring our souls to the other. Somehow, we end up on the bed, still kissing, still touching, slowly exploring. Zippers are pulled, buttons released, shirts and sweaters removed, then pants and skirts, until we’re a tangle of limbs and the only thing separating us from heaven is lace underwear and boxer briefs. I pull back to look at Luci, really look at her. At the shades of brown that make her skin glow in the half-light. At the paler places that have been hidden from the sun. At the soft swell of her belly, and the beautiful heaviness of her breasts, spilling over the top of her satin bra.
She’s as ethereal as Venus rising from the seafoam. Her skin warms under my hand, and I can’t touch enough of her, the dips and curves along her side, the satin feel of her thighs. “I’m worried I might wake up and find you’re a dream,” I whisper as I pepper kisses along her jawline.
“This is real, isn’t it?” she asks, sliding her hand across my chest, down my side, over my back. Every place she touches rises with goosebumps. My body tingles from head to toe, my cock swelling with each caress. She lets out a soft sigh when my lips find the hollow at the base of her neck.
I reach behind her and flick open her bra. My heart is pounding so loudly, my ears buzz. How long have I waited for this? How many fantasies have I indulged in about this very moment? “So real,” I answer, tugging on a bra strap. She helps me and shimmies out of the contraption, tossing it away. “You’re perfect,” I breathe, taking her in.
Her breasts are full, lush, paler than the rest of her, but with dark brown areolas and pert nipples. I trace one, then the other, barely touching the flawless skin. Watching in rapt fascination as the skin pulls and puckers, tightening with arousal. I test their weight in my hand, skimming a thumb across the pebbled peak. She lets out a moan that sounds pained. “Harder,” she whispers on a ragged breath.
My heart beats erratically. I’m happy to please her. I want to bring her to heights she’s never known, to hear her moan my name over and over until her throat is rough with it. I give her what she wants — a hard pinch, loving how her back bows and she arches into me. I do it again, and again. And then I do it with my mouth, taking the taut peak between my teeth and giving a gent
le tug while I lick at the sensitive tip. I start slowly, licking and teasing, tasting every inch of her sumptuous flesh. Her hands are everywhere, clutching my hair, fingernails scraping down my spine, palms sliding down my arms. She writhes, and when she moans my name — “Yes, Mason, oh yes,” my heart clenches almost painfully at the beauty of it.
Her hand slides down her belly, fingers diving underneath her pretty pink panties, seeking more. My cock jerks, wanting in on the action. I love that she’s pleasuring herself, that she knows what she wants, and is unashamed to go after it. “That’s it, sweetheart, touch yourself. How wet is that gorgeous cunt?” She removes her fingers and brings them to my mouth. They’re slick and covered with her arousal. With a groan, I take them, licking and sucking every bit of her taste from her fingers. It only makes me want more. I yank her panties down and take my first look at her cunt, pussy lips swollen and plump, peeking out from a thatch of neatly trimmed hair. “Fucking exquisite,” I say, not recognizing my own voice.
Somehow Luci manages to get rid of her panties, and before I can ask, she drops her knee, spreading her legs and offering the most intimate part of herself to me. My breath catches. Her pussy opens like a beautiful dark flower, reminiscent of the O’Keefe paintings I love so much. I commit the picture of her to memory, the way she lies spread out on my bed, eyes glazed, lips swollen from my kisses. No matter what happens, I will never forget her this way, open, trusting, and vulnerable.
Our eyes lock. The heat we generate is undeniable. It’s like we’re the center of some kind of an electric hurricane. My chest puffs under her intense stare, and with a lazy grin, I slowly move down her body, holding her gaze until I’m settled between her legs, hands stroking her inner thighs, pushing her a little wider. “Is this what you want, Luci?”
Her eyes crinkle at the corners. “God, yes,” she says with a sigh. “I’ve dreamed of this.”
My chest trembles with anticipation, and I force a slow breath. I want nothing more than to devour her like a wolf consuming its prey. But then it will be over all too soon, and I want this to last as long as we both can stand it. I lower my head, watching the way her eyelids drop to half-shut, and her mouth opens. Sometime soon, my cock is going in that perfect mouth. The scent of her rocks me to my core, it’s heady and ripe, like a peach ready to drop from the branch. With a groan I nuzzle the top of her thigh, letting her hair tickle my cheekbones. And then I taste. Lightly, at first. Little teasing flicks that barely coat the tip of my tongue, and which in no time make her hum and pant.