by BA Tortuga
“It’s okay. I had a bad accident the summer before I was supposed to go to college. It was awful and I just can’t. I tried and I just froze.”
“Oh, darlin’, that sounds awful. No wonder Cotton wanted his truck with you laid up.”
“He’s a good guy. I do okay with the busses and everything, but he’s thoughtful.” She winked at him. “Probably bored, too.”
“Hey, check it out! Pickles.” Cotton grinned back and neatly avoided everything with munching.
“Dork.” She grabbed one, dipped it in the ranch.
“What do you do for a living at the monkey place, honey?”
“I’m a game designer. Video games.”
“You can make money doing that?” Caroline seemed completely floored by that.
“I hope so. It takes months to make a game, hundreds of hours.”
“Well, I’ll be dipped.” She hooted. “Go you. Do you get holidays off?”
“I do. In fact, I get two weeks off. It’s a weird perk deal.”
“Oh, then you should come up for Christmas with Cotton!” Caroline clapped her hands, bouncing some, which made that red hair fly.
“Momma.” Now Cotton sounded a little panicky. Poor baby. He was doing that wild-eyed thing men did.
“Oh, Cotton needs his time with his family. I know that.” She had plans to spend two weeks on the couch with her laptop.
Cotton gave her a look. “Well, and you’ve got your brothers, right?”
“They’re taking the wives and kids to Switzerland. Skiing.” She stopped, then realized that hadn’t helped Cotton out at all. “The guys at the Ink have big parties and stuff, and I spend some time freelancing for them, drawing flash art and all.”
“Oh, now. That’s not right, you not being with family.”
Em waved her hand. “The boys always spend the holidays out of town. It’s easier.” That way they didn’t have to sit and pretend that they didn’t know who Em was in front of Mom’s husband.
“Well, then you’ll come with us.” When Cotton opened his mouth, Caroline raised a hand. “If she’s good enough to booty call three times in as many months, she’s good enough to bring home for Christmas.”
She just stared.
What else was she going to do?
“Momma! That’s just… Jesus.” Cotton looked as if he might melt, his face was so red.
“What? I like her. She’s got grit. I can tell that now. And she ain’t one of them skanky buckle bunnies.” Caroline smiled over the waiter’s arm when her steak arrived. “So, y’all will come up on the twentieth.”
Em glanced at Cotton, not sure what to do. Then she took a deep breath and met Caroline’s eyes. “Breathe, baby. It’s cool. Caroline, what if Cotton doesn’t want me there? The poor guy’s already got me falling down all over him in the street.”
“Will y’all stop doing my talking for me?” Cotton bust out, making other diners stare. “If you want to come up for Christmas, Emmy, you’ll come. I’m more worried about my yahoo relations than I am you. And, Momma, you can stop acting that way and treat my woman with some respect. Now eat your steak.”
Caroline’s eyes twinkled, and she winked at Em, but she bent meekly to eating her food.
That was unexpected.
And hot.
Em nudged Cotton with her cast. “Pepper, please?”
“You bet.” He passed it over, his fingers sliding against hers for a moment.
“Thanks. How are the potatoes?” She goosepimpled up a little.
“Good. Real good. Mac and cheese is better.” She didn’t think he was pondering mac and cheese with that expression on his face.
The conversation slowed, all of them eating. Then Caroline smiled at Cotton. “So? You won two go rounds in Reno. I was so proud.”
“Thanks, Momma.” Look at that grin. Cotton actually bounced. “That second round on Twister was somethin’…”
“Yeah? I wish I could’ve been there.”
Em frowned. “Do you not get Sports Outside?”
Caroline laughed. “Oh, god, honey. We don’t get nothing out at the ranch.”
“Well, I have all the rides for the last few months in streaming video on the server. I’ll burn you some DVDs so you can watch. I set them up so Cotton could watch them whenever on his laptop.”
“Cotton has a laptop?” One red eyebrow went straight up to the hairline.
“I got him one, so…uh…” Well, she’d gotten it so that they could vid. “He could have access on the road.”
“It’s real nice.”
“Well, good for you, baby boy. Kicking and screaming into the twenty-first century.”
She chuckled softly. “He’s learned very quickly.”
He’d figured out webcam sex was way more fun than phone sex.
Way more.
His ears went crimson. “So, who wants dessert?”
“Let’s take your mom to Amy’s, Cotton. We can have Shiner ice cream.”
“Beer ice cream? Hot damn.” Caroline was her kind of lady. She was ready.
“It’s the best.” She dug out her wallet, because, dammit, it was her turn to pay.
“I got it, honey.” Cotton nudged her leg, nodding at his momma. Oh. She guessed he had asked Caroline out to supper.
“Okay. Dessert’s on me.” She got it, cowboy pride and all.
“That works for me.” Cotton paid the bill, then got up and held their chairs for them.
His hands were gentle on her, helping her with the crutches. Her underarms and palms were so sore that she could scream.
“You okay, honey?” he asked, helping her to the truck while his momma went to powder her nose. “You’re a trooper, but I could run out and get us some ice cream once I get you home.”
“It’s cool, baby. I’m just sore in places I didn’t know I could be sore.” She leaned a little. “Does your mom need me to find her a hotel room?”
“No. She and Allison have one. Ali just didn’t want to have to be uncool and go out with mom. She’ll pick Momma up when she calls.”
She met his eyes, smiled at him. “Hey, being cool is important, right?”
“It is, I guess.” He shrugged, seeming uncomfortable as hell for a second. Then he grinned and the moment was gone. “She’d like you, though.”
“I hope so. You okay?”
“I am.” He put a hand on her waist, deftly avoiding crutches, and kissed her on the cheek, just above the corner of her mouth.
“Mmm. Thank you for supper.”
“You’re welcome, honey. Thanks for putting up with my momma. She’s…blunt.” The little chuckle told her he thought he was being too nice.
“She’s fucking amazing, Cotton. I like her. There’s too much passive-aggressive bullshit in the world.”
“Yeah.” He grinned now, squeezing her tight. “I like you.”
“Kiss me?” They had a second before his mom came out, surely.
“Mmm.” He didn’t even glance around to see if anyone was watching, he just kissed her, mouth pushing against hers hard for a moment.
She hummed softly. This had to be the best part of her day. At least so far.
“Well, it looks like you two started on dessert.”
Cotton didn’t jump or seem guilty at all when Caroline popped out next to them. He just chuckled.
She felt her cheeks heat, though. She couldn’t help it. “Nope. Dessert’s down the road.”
“Come on, y’all.” Caroline hopped up in the truck, checking her hair in the little flip-down mirror. “Ice cream. And we can talk holiday plans. Do you like to make cookies?”
Chapter Nine
Cotton hummed under his breath, glancing over every so often to check on Emmy.
She was sound asleep, had been for almost an hour. He thought it was the whole long ride in a car thing. She’d been nervous as hell the first hour on the Interstate, before she’d started drooping.
She looked cute as a bug in her ripped jeans and her ‘Goth That Stole Xmas’ T-shirt.
He even liked her ratty sweater. Lord, he had it bad. Bad enough that he’d turned down a chance to meet up with Kynan and Leo for beers, because he didn’t want to not ask her and he didn’t want them to be evil to her.
Shit, he was just as glad to be out of Austin, what with how many people were passing through on the way home for Christmas.
The back of his truck was loaded down, though, man. Girls needed lots of stuff. Geeky computer girls needed even more than that.
Of course, he’d supervised the packing of the panties and stuff. He didn’t know if Momma was going to put them in different sides of the house or not, so he figured he’d better see what all she was wearing, so he could imagine it. That way there would be less sneaking out to the barn to call her cell phone and ask what she was wearing, too.
God, he was a perv. He blamed Em.
Of course, she brought it on herself. Little black panties, lacy pink ones, a little thong with fur and jingle bells… She blew his mind. And she wore them under this stuff. Petticoats under her circle skirts. Skimpy tops with boning that pushed her boobs up. She’d taken him to a pre-Christmas party at her work, and she’d worn something called a hobble dress.
He was gonna run off the road.
“Mmm.” She shifted, then scooted closer to him. “I was dreaming about you, baby.”
She was warm and soft and curvy and she smelled so good.
“Were you? I was thinking of your underwear.”
“Mmm. I’m wearing purple polka dots today.” She leaned over and kissed his jaw. “You’re a very good driver. I had a good nap.”
“Good. You ready to stop and have a bite?” He could pee, grab a burger.
“I am. I need some caffeine.” Her hand was on his thigh, solid and warm.
“Cool.” He’d start looking for a place to stop and hope no one pulled him over with his dick hard like that.
Her hand started moving, sliding lazily and slowly over the seam in his jeans.
“Honey.” His legs shifted, the truck stuttering a little. “Damn.”
“Uh-huh? You feel good.” God, he loved that whole sex kitten thing.
“You do, too. Just want to make sure I ain’t gonna crash us.” A little creative driving was one thing. Full on humping her hand was bad, right?
“No crashing.” She backed off a little. “I’ll be good, huh?”
“No, no. I want you to be bad. Just not so bad that I forget where I am.” He took her hand and put it back where it had been.
“That’s fair.” Her hand started exploring again, tracing his seam up toward his balls. “I had fun last night, baby. You made me see stars.”
“It was a hell of a ride.” Thing was, he was having fun just hanging out with her, too, which was kinda scary when he thought on it.
“Yep. Of course, I think that you deserve a bonus for getting all the electronics in the truck without complaining once.”
“It was a load.” She had to be able to work, even though she had two weeks off, and she had some serious shit to bring with.
Not only that, but there were the presents. The clothes. The makeup. The shoes.
She had the most astonishing shoes. His momma had plans to buy Emmy a pair of cowboy boots. Cotton couldn’t wait. “Whataburger?”
“Sounds good to me. You know I can always murder a burger.” That was his girl.
Thank God she wasn’t a vegetarian. That would be just too weird.
Hell, it was going to be hard enough, explaining her to the aunts, to Granny. Cotton pushed that thought away. His momma had taken to her, hadn’t she? They would deal.
He pulled off the interstate, into the parking lot of the tiniest Whataburger he’d ever seen.
Em was off her crutches, just moving careful with a soft wrap and no heels.
Cotton went around and made sure she got out okay, holding her under the elbow to make sure she didn’t slip or nothin’. “You think they’ll even have pies here?”
“I bet they do.” She shivered, glanced over at him. “Baby, it’s got to have dropped twenty degrees since we left my place.”
“Oh, I got a jacket. Hold on.” He had one in the back of the cab. One of them denim dealies from the finals.
She shrugged it on and…wow. Wow, that made her boobs look. Wow. “Is it too small?”
“No. No, ma’am.” Hello. He might just die from how good it fit.
She looked… And her waist was… And her curves and… Oh, he needed to see it from the back. So, of course, he opened the door for her and let her go in ahead of him. Yes, baby.
He was seriously considering having a spontaneous orgasm from watching her sway from side to side. That was…
Please God, let Momma let them share a room, or at least be close enough to sneak in.
Fuck, he’d stop at the Wal-Mart and get an air bed and some blankets for the bed of the truck and park in the barn.
“You want a double, right?” She smiled at him, and he noticed her nipples were hard.
“I do. I want a pie, too, huh?” He pulled out his wallet and handed her a twenty. “You okay if I go, uh…” He waved vaguely.
“Yep. I will procure sustenance.”
“Be right back.” He went and did his thing and maybe he thumped himself a little. She looked good in his clothes.
She was hanging out at the table, the little plastic number sitting there, as she watching the weather. The clouds were rolling in, turning the sky dove gray.
Cotton wanted her. Oh, not in the low-level, achey way he had all day. But in that gotta have her now, no way would he make the last hour of the drive to Momma’s. He smiled and waved before pulling out his cell and going to get condiments.
Momma answered on the second ring. “Hey, baby boy. How’s the drive going?”
“Well, it’s going okay, but it’s comin’ up a cloud, and I’m pooped. I think we’re gonna spend the night on the road.” There was a Super 8 and a Best Western right down the way.
“Yeah? Well, son, I’d rather you rest than risk an accident.”
“Me, too.” That was true enough, too. But he was selfish as hell, honestly. He wanted Emmy to himself one more night.
“Okay. I have a brisket for tomorrow. I was just gonna have Sissy run grab pizza tonight. Y’all will be here in time to run to town for lunch?”
“You know it. We’re not that far out.” He grinned a little at the wee baby girl carrying the tray of ketchup and mustard.
“Good deal. What does your Emily like to drink, son? I’m fixin’ to make a grocery list.”
His Emily. Wow. His heart jumped a little. Was she his? He sure hoped so. “Dr. Pepper. Cran-apple juice.”
“You got it. Dr. Pepper, cran-apple, some root beer and lots of milk for you. Love you, Cotton. I have the tree and ornaments all down from the shed, waiting for you to put up.” She sounded tickled pink.
“I love you, too, Momma.” He hoped Em liked all the weird stuff that came with a hicktown Christmas. Lord.
The food was sitting at the table when he sat down, and Em grinned at him. “Everything cool, baby?”
“We’re all good.” He took a deep breath and handed over the mustard and mayo. She hated ketchup. “I told Momma we’d see her tomorrow. With that storm coming and all, I thought it would be better to hunker down.”
“Yeah? That’s cool. We could…snuggle. Watch the storm come in.”
“We could. I like snuggling.” They would find out from the manager here which hotel was the best. He looked older than twelve, at least.
“Cool.” Em pulled the pickles from her hamburger and put them on the side. He knew she’d nibble on them last. How weird was it that he knew that? Cotton couldn’t remember anyone he’d dated since maybe JoAnn in high school that he could tell someone how they liked their food.
Of course, Emmy’d ordered his without tomatoes and with bacon, hadn’t she? And she’d given him the extra crispy fries.
They made their way through supper, but kep
t the pies back for later. “You’ll want the Best Western,” the manager told them with a knowing grin that made Cotton want to sock him.
Em, bless her, didn’t notice. She was texting someone about something.
“Thanks.” He gave the guy a stare and stood up, stretching. They’d go to the other place if Mr. Smarm thought the Western was a good idea.
“They have rooms at the Super 8. You want me to book it?” God, that phone was sort of amazing.
“I do. Thanks, honey.” Look at the manager stare at his girl. That was funny.
“Not a problem.” Click, click, click. Her fingers flew. Once she was done, he held out a hand to help her up. She smiled at him, eyes warm as an August afternoon. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, honey.” They headed out, the pies in a baggie. They could make coffee at the hotel. She brought her own little packages of it.
The wind was vicious, the air behind it bitter enough to make them both gasp.
“Lord, honey. Glad we decided to stop.” Hustling to the truck, he bundled her in, wrapped her all up good in his jacket.
“Me, too.”
He got them moving, but the wind had his truck sliding bad. She was a trooper, but in the three minutes it took him to drive her to the hotel, Em was snow white and trembling.
“Here we go. Come on, honey. You can check in, and I’ll get the stuff out of the back.” He slipped out and came around to help her in, wanting to make sure she was stable.
“Okay. You can leave the equipment, if you want to. I’ll just need the little pink bag.” Oh, ho. Leaving her laptop for the night. That was big.
“I’ll lock it up good.” Damn, Sam. He was a lucky feller. He left her to check them in, knowing he’d pay her back half on her little card, and went to get the bags.
By the time she came out of the office, the sleet was pissing down.
“Some blue norther, huh, honey?” Luckily, he’d remembered the umbrella, and he put an arm around her. “What room?”
“One-fifty-two. We wanted it to cool off for Christmas, huh?”
“We did. Guess Santa was listening.” Shit, it was the kind of night that reminded him that men had nipples, too.
She got the door open and they tumbled in, laughing as the wind slammed the door shut behind them.