Lucy managed a weak smile. “I can do it. Pearl taught me that I can do anything. I reckon we’d best make a stop at the Dollar Store on the way, though. I’ll need to buy a few things. I didn’t even get out with a toothbrush or a pair of clean underbritches. And poor little Delilah will need her fancy canned food.”
***
Later that night, Ace wrapped his arms around Jasmine and pulled her close. “You really do fix things, don’t you? You ever thought of being a mediator?”
She wiggled until she was comfortable lying next to him, sharing the same pillow, their noses and lips just inches apart. “No, thank you. I think Lucy is going to be an asset to the ranch. Getting used to so many men will be a chore for her, but it’s what she needs.”
“Didn’t Wil tell me she was dating a fellow?”
“Luke got transferred to Kansas. They went out to dinner and parted with a hug. She says he was good for her because he taught her all men weren’t like that bastard who beat her. But that she didn’t love him.”
“Dexter showed Lucy all around the kitchen and handed over the ranch credit card so she can do the grocery shopping. You think she’ll do all right starting out Monday morning? That only gives her tomorrow to work with Dexter and the weekend to get settled in.” Ace yawned.
Jasmine reached up and pushed a blond curl off his forehead. “You like my chicken fried steak at the café?”
“Hell, yeah.”
“Well, it’s her secret recipe.”
“About last night,” he said, abruptly changing the subject.
“I was going to bring that up next,” she said.
“And?” he asked.
“Did you seduce me because you wanted the marriage to be consummated before the final minute was up?” She asked.
Ace shook his head emphatically. “No, Jazzy. You are my best friend. I never thought I’d have a best friend that was a girl, but I’ve told you things and whined on your shoulder about things that even Rye and Wil don’t know. You know my heart and my soul better than anyone. So believe me when I say that last night had nothing to do with our marriage. It had to do with the fact that you are so damned hot that I can’t keep my hands off you. It’s like friend and lover all rolled up into one. I can’t wrap my mind around it so I can’t explain it.”
She understood exactly what he was saying. “But how did this happen, Ace? We went into this knowing it was for a year. That’s all I want. I’m happy running my café and with my life. What happens at the end of a year when we have to end it?”
“We’ll shake hands like Lucy and Luke, sign the papers, and go have dinner to celebrate,” he said.
If that’s all she wanted, then that’s what Ace would give her. He never intended it to be anything more than a paper marriage anyway. But the turmoil deep inside him said that he wanted a lot more than empty vows and a few nights of blazing sex.
Jasmine bit the inside of her lip. She would not cry. It was her day to be the tough one and she would keep the tears at bay, but it had sure enough had been one hell of a day!
First the doubts and worries all day about having sex with Ace. Then seeing her best friend have a meltdown. Pearl was pure piss and vinegar with a little Kryptonite tossed in. She was stronger than Superman. To see her upset was like watching Armageddon.
Lucy coming to work at the Double Deuce and getting her and Delilah settled into the spare bedroom had been a good thing. But now hearing Ace say the word that they’d shake hands and walk after a year was almost more than she could take.
A year and a half ago when Jasmine quit her job in Sherman at Texas Instruments and bought the café, she’d had a kick-ass attitude that entered the room before she did. But lying there on Ace’s arm that night, she feared that she’d lost some of her kick-ass.
“It’s been a hell of a week,” she said.
Ace didn’t answer.
She looked up at him. He was asleep with a half grin on his face and the action behind his eyes said that he was dreaming. She wondered if he was dreaming about her, or if some other woman danced through his dreams as she waited for the year to be over.
Chapter 13
“You ready for this? You look like you’d rather be tossin’ hay bales into the barn,” Ace said before he pushed the door open into the bridal shop in Wichita Falls.
“If I had a choice I’d tell you to hand me the hay hooks and gloves,” Jasmine said.
“Tell her no,” Ace said.
“I can fight with her on anything else, but not this wedding. She’s preached about it since I was born. And we’ve only got two hours to find the dress because these shops will close at five.”
Ace removed his Stetson and opened the door. A rush of cool air came out to greet them, and a cute little salesgirl smiled at Jasmine and gave Ace two quick scans before rushing to their side.
“When is the wedding?” the lady asked Jasmine, but her eyes had stalled out on Ace’s silver belt buckle.
“Three weeks,” Jasmine said.
“Oh, my! Well, you look like a perfect size six so that shouldn’t be a problem.”
Just how she got Jasmine’s size right by studying Ace’s belt buckle was a mystery bordering on the supernatural.
“Would you have a theme in mind? Big bell gown, mermaid, Grecian goddess?” She finally looked at Jasmine.
“Just need a dress,” Jasmine said.
She pointed at a velvet chair in front of a round platform with mirrors on three sides. “You can sit there while we get her all ready.”
Ace sat down, right boot cocked up on his left knee, hat on his lap.
Wedding dress number one: Jasmine’s mother, Kelly, would love it but it was too damn hot. Sweat was flowing down between her boobs like the Red River in flood season, and her hair was sticking to her neck like she’d gotten hold of superglue instead of mousse that morning. If she was sweating inside an air-conditioned store then she’d melt in a church with three hundred people watching her tempt the hand of God a second time. She had to have something she could at least breathe in.
However, if she said this one would do just fine, then the day would be over and she could go home. She turned around to tell the woman she’d buy the damned hot bell gown with a train all the way to Ace, only to see her flirting blatantly with Ace. Actually, leaning forward to whisper in his ear. Jealousy and heat mixed together into a raging blaze that would make a wild prairie fire look like a match flame.
“Not this one. I’d be dead of sweat dehydration just walking down the aisle. What else do you have?” Jasmine asked.
Ace liked all that satin, lace, and puffy stuff and imagined how much fun it would be to undo every single one of those little covered buttons down the back. The saleslady was definitely flirting with him when she asked if he liked white silk. He brushed her off with a shake of the head, but Jasmine wanted to slap her.
Wedding dress number two: Jasmine held her arms up while the saleslady, Kyla, with the wandering eyes, pulled it down over her body and hooked elastic thread over dozens of small buttons up the back. She shook her head in the dressing room, and the dress with all its satin roses on the skirt and scattered on the train went back to the rack.
“Third time is a charm,” she whispered when the woman brought in the third choice, a watered silk strapless, fitted to a long waist with a train that could be fastened up to make a bustle.
She walked out from the fitting room and Ace shook his head. “It’s not you, Jazzy. You look miserable in it. When the dress makes you look like you did in the Las Vegas one, then you’ve found it.”
She didn’t even step up on the revolving platform. She and the woman went right back to the dressing room to remove it.
“Is that your brother?” Kyla asked.
“No, ma’am.”
“Your best friend?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Is he gay or something?” Kyla asked.
“Hell, no!”
“Then why in the world is he sho
pping with you for a wedding dress? We never have men come help a lady pick out her dress. Usually it’s the bridesmaids or maid of honor.”
“He’s my husband.” Jasmine was amazed at how that slipped off her tongue so easily.
Husband!
She was married. It didn’t sound strange at all, and that was pretty damn frightening.
“He’s what?” Kyla gasped.
Jasmine held up her left hand with the wedding band. “He’s my husband. We got married in Las Vegas a week ago, but my mother insists on a Texas wedding.”
“Well, that’s a first for me. Never sold a dress to a lady who was already married with her husband watching from the sidelines,” Kyla said.
“Thank you for all your help,” Jasmine said.
“No problem. Come on back if you change your mind,” Kyla said.
“Next store?” Ace asked when they were back outside with hot sunshine bearing down on them.
“Right around the corner. We could walk to it,” Jasmine said.
“Lead the way, darlin’. Sorry you didn’t find one in there. I don’t know why you couldn’t use that one you wore in Vegas. I liked it and you liked it. Tell your momma she can have the wedding but you already got a dress,” he said.
“It’s complicated, like I said. It’s got to be perfect and she thinks that dress is tacky. Okay, here we go for the second round.” She pointed to the next bridal shop.
“I’d rather have a second round of something a hell of a lot more fun,” he teased.
“Is that a line?” She giggled.
“Damn, Jazzy, you are ruining my ego. That works every time,” he said.
She laughed again and reached to push the door, only to have it swing open and wedding music begin. “Wow, talk about promotion,” she mumbled.
Debra was middle-aged with her dark hair pulled back to the nape of her neck in a tight bun. She wore no jewelry, too much makeup, and glasses perched on the end of her nose. She didn’t even notice Ace’s belt buckle.
Dress number one: an ivory silk with long fitted sleeves, a square neckline, and no train. Kelly would hate it but of the four she’d tried on, Jasmine liked it best.
She looked at Ace who shook his head. “Your eyes aren’t all dreamy.”
Number two: tight-fitting bodice covered with pearls and rhinestones, strapless, flowing skirt with a twelve-inch ruffle around the bottom that matched the bodice, and gold bells on the underskirt that tinkled when she walked. She swished several times in front of the mirror.
“This is a hoot, but I wouldn’t be able to stop giggling. I sound like wind chimes.” She giggled.
Ace laughed with her. “This isn’t working, Jazzy. We can try again next week if they close before you find one. How about coffee and cheesecake from that Starbucks we passed on the way here?”
“I’m ready,” she said.
She couldn’t get out of the dress and into her khaki shorts, sandals, and red T-shirt fast enough. Debra was still getting the dress back on the hanger when Jasmine thanked her for her time and escaped out the door to a faster and more upbeat version of “Here Comes the Bride.”
“Redneck Woman” started playing in her purse and Ace chuckled.
“What’s so funny?”
“From fancy to trashy all in two minutes,” he said.
“Don’t let Pearl hear you say that. It’s her ringtone,” she said as she fished the phone from her purse and answered it.
“Did you get it yet?” Pearl asked.
“Tried on several and didn’t fall in love with any of them,” she answered.
“I’m so sorry I can’t be there. You helped me pick out mine.”
“Yeah, some friend you are! I helped you and then you go and have babies before me and I have to listen to Momma whine about both your wedding and your babies,” Jasmine said.
“Oh, hush! I was being nice. Is Lucy with you?”
“No, Ace is.”
Pearl gasped. “You know he’s not supposed to see the dress.”
“I don’t think that matters since he’s already seen one dress,” Jasmine argued.
“This is so damn bizarre. Not even a soap opera would write it into their script,” Pearl said.
“You got it, sister!”
“I’m remembering how much fun we had the day we shopped for my dress. We picked it out in half an hour and spent the rest of the day in the Western wear stores, remember?” Pearl’s tone was wistful.
“Yes, because you wanted those fancy boots to go with your dress. What shop was that? I might need some to go with my dress if I ever find it,” Jasmine said.
“Have you opened Kelly’s email? She sent all of us bridesmaids the dresses she picked out. She did a wonderful job. You’ve got to see them. Open your mail and call me back. Could be that you don’t have to shop anymore today,” Pearl said.
“Honey, I’d wear a burlap bag and carry ragweed if I didn’t have to try on another dress. I’ll call you tonight with an update.”
A few minutes later Jasmine stopped in her tracks and gasped and said, “Holy shit!”
“What?” Ace asked.
“Sorry. Momma sent the bridesmaid’s dresses and they are pretty,” she said.
She sat down on a bench in front of a shop with “Kiddie Land” written on the front window and opened the second email from Kelly. She had to scramble to catch the phone as it dropped at the same time her jaw did. Her mother’s backup dress was elegant. It looked like something a Grecian goddess might wear. It had a high waistline, spaghetti straps, and a skirt that flowed from the waist in soft pleats into a very short train at the back. The description said it was made of satin and chiffon, and the straps were rhinestone crystals.
Kelly’s note said: No veil. Just a magnolia blossom on one side with your hair pulled back behind your ear. No high heels. Very skimpy flat sandals of white kid leather that lace up around your ankles.
Ace sat down beside her and reached for the phone. “Let me see.”
“No, it’s bad luck for the groom even if he is the husband to see the dress, and this is the one. No more shopping today,” she said.
“Look at me, Jazzy,” he said.
She looked up.
He smiled.
“Yep, that’s the one. Your eyes look right. Call your momma and tell her she’s the queen of shopping today.”
She pushed a speed dial button and winked at Ace while she waited.
“Hello, Momma, I just found the perfect wedding dress.”
The pause was so long that Ace cocked his head to one side and raised an eyebrow in question.
Jasmine held up a finger.
“But Momma it’s perfect.”
Another wait.
“Okay, okay, Momma. I found the dress on my phone. It’s the backup dress. I love it. I was just teasing you. Yes, ma’am. Size six and you can use my dress from Pearl’s wedding for the hem. It’s still hanging in my bedroom closet. I know we don’t have time for a fitting or two. But that one is hanging in the closet at your house and it was the perfect length with flat-soled shoes. And I like the idea of the hair thing and the shoes. I was thinking white cowboy boots.”
The phone went dead.
“What?” Ace asked.
“She hung up on me when I mentioned the boots,” Jasmine said.
“I’m glad I never had sisters.”
“Why?”
“My mother would be in jail for murder if my sister was like you.”
“Is that a warning? Do your sisters-in-law walk on eggshells?”
“Just be glad when they were passing out baby girls in Texas that they gave you to Kelly King and not Dolly Riley.”
It was hotter inside the truck than it was outside. Jasmine didn’t care if she ever saw another sauna or spa in her life right then. Little black birds hopped out of danger, proving it was even too hot to fly. The cab hadn’t even cooled down when Ace pulled into the Starbucks parking lot. Jasmine hopped out and pointed to an advertisement post
er picturing a mocha smoothie and a sandwich in the window.
“I want that,” she said.
Ace held the door for her. “I figured you’d want black coffee.”
“Too damn hot for trying on wedding dresses or for drinking hot coffee, and I’m hungry.”
And sitting in close quarters with you, fighting the urge to kiss you whenever you hold the door, and I catch a whiff of your shaving lotion, which is sexy as hell. And the way your hand burns an imprint on my back. It’s too damn hot for all of it, Ace Riley!
Other than one old fellow wearing faded overalls and a chambray shirt, they were the only customers in the place. When the order was filled, Ace carried the tray to a corner table. The old fellow raised his coffee cup and nodded at them.
“Afternoon,” Ace said.
“Hot one, ain’t it?”
“July and August ain’t even here yet. It’ll get hotter,” Ace answered.
“And September. Lord, used to be it started to cool down in September, but these days it’s just as hot as August. Back when I was a boy, we was butcherin’ hogs come November first. Nowadays, kids is playin’ football in their short-sleeved shirts on Thanksgiving day,” the old fellow said.
“Then winter hits us in February,” Ace agreed.
Jasmine sipped at her icy smoothie.
“Good!” she muttered.
“I shoulda got me one of those things, but I sure do have a cravin’ sometimes for their coffee. Reminds me of the time we was runnin’ some cattle from here up through Randlett to the sale. It was back when I was a kid during Depression times and my grandpa brewed up coffee in a pot right over the stove. He’d put in a cup of grounds and fill up the pot, then when it was boiled down to about half full, he’d taste it. Sometimes it had to boil another half an hour, but most of the time he gauged it about right. I miss that good strong flavor, but this place has got it down pretty good. And I miss a real cup instead of these paper things. A man can’t wrap his hands around a paper cup and get warm in the winter like they can a real coffee cup. But it does taste mighty good. I asked the girl back there if they had a fire going out in back of the store. She looked at me like I was a crazy man. Decided I’d best not go on or she’d be callin’ them boys up to haul me off.” He winked at Ace.
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