One Hot Cowboy Wedding

by Carolyn Brown

  “My grandpa liked his coffee strong enough to blister paint off the side of a house,” Ace said. “He used to call it murdered water if it didn’t melt the silver off a spoon when he stirred it.”

  “Good man, your grandpa. They don’t make them like that no more. Well, I’d best get on home. I told Momma I was goin’ to town to buy feed and I’d be home in time for supper. I reckon she’s just about got the biscuits ready.” He grinned. “Us old cowboys is a dyin’ breed. All this newfangled world is too fancy for us. Coffee with names like latte and capa-whatevers. It’s more than our old brains can take.” He threw his cup in the trash and waved as he left.

  Ace watched out the window until he was gone. “He reminded me of my grandpa.”

  “Was your grandpa that size?”

  “Oh, no, he was tall and lanky. Blond hair like mine with the same color eyes I’ve got. Granny was the short little part-Mexican lady. She was pretty round when she died, but I don’t think Grandpa ever saw her as anything but the exotic girl he fell in love with.” Ace sipped at his cup of dark roast coffee.

  “Did he call her ‘Momma’?” Jasmine asked.

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “Don’t you ever call me that.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m not your momma. I have a name.”

  “Don’t think we’ll ever have that problem, Jazzy. Old folks didn’t call their wives Momma until the kids came along. It happens when they start sayin’ things like, ‘Go on in there and Momma will fix that scrape on your elbow,’ or ‘Momma is fryin’ chicken for supper so you better not have another cookie right now.’ Since we ain’t really married and since we ain’t really goin’ to have kids, then we don’t have anything to worry about, do we?”

  Please say there’s a possibility that you’ll change your mind about a divorce. Shit! Where did that come from? I don’t want to be married, ever, he thought.

  “Guess you are right,” she said.

  Evidently, that barbed wire around your arm is for real. You don’t want a woman in your life no matter what.

  He changed the subject. “So what now? You’ve decided on the dress and we’ve had something to eat. What would you like to do the rest of the day? Take in a movie and then have dinner?”

  How about we check into a motel? Maybe order a pizza delivered when we’re ravenous from too much sex, she thought.

  “Let’s go visiting.”

  Ace raised an eyebrow.

  “I want to go check on Pearl and talk wedding with her. Then I’d like to go see Liz and show her the dresses Momma picked out. If Liz is still exercising horses, I might catch a ride. And then we’d better get on home to make sure Lucy isn’t feeling too abandoned on her first day at the ranch.”

  Ace cocked his head to one side. “Okay, but now that I think of it, why isn’t Lucy shopping with you instead of me?”

  “Lucy spent the morning getting her recipes ready for the week and doing grocery shopping this afternoon in Bowie. She’s very organized. She stopped by the café on her way to the store and asked me to buy a hundred-pound bag of potatoes and a few other things from my produce man. That way she’ll get them at a better price. Tomorrow she and Delilah will sleep in and in the afternoon she’ll have her meeting in Henrietta and stop by to see Pearl on the way home,” Jasmine explained.

  “Wow!”

  “I told you she’d be an asset to the ranch. You won’t be sorry a day that you hired her. She’ll have things runnin’ smooth as…” She grinned.

  “As silk?” Ace finished for her.

  “As a baby’s butt.” Jasmine giggled.

  “But what about working around all the men folks? Is that going to stress her out?”

  “I hope not. That’s the only thing I worry about and why I don’t want to leave her all alone tonight. So visiting for half an hour at each place and then home?” she asked.

  She’d said it again: home!

  His heart swelled and he fairly well strutted out the door with his arm thrown around her shoulders.

  Make up your mind, cowboy. Do you want to be married or not? To Jasmine or not?

  Chapter 14

  Lucy’s hands were on her hips and her stance said that Blake and Dalton were in deep shit. The sports channel was broadcasting a golf game behind her, but she didn’t give a damn. Right then she was about to call down the wrath of God upon those two worthless cowboys if one of them didn’t own up to his thievery.

  Jasmine and Ace walked in on the scenario and stopped in their tracks just inside the living room door.

  “What in the hell is going on in this place?” Jasmine asked.

  Lucy shot daggers across the room at the two brothers. “One of them is a thief and whoever stole it is going to make a trip into town before next Friday night.”

  Blake and Dalton looked like two little boys who’d gotten caught with their fingers in the cookie jar.

  Ace could barely contain his laughter. “What did they steal?”

  Lucy pointed at the coffee table where two empty cans of Vienna sausage sat along with beer cans and half a bag of pretzels. “Right there is the evidence. I wouldn’t make an accusation without proof.”

  “But we didn’t know they were yours. Everything in the house has always been community property,” Dalton said.

  “Yeah! And get away from the front of the television, Lucy,” Blake said.

  Lucy glared at him. “Stealing from Delilah and bossing me too. Boy, that ain’t going to happen.”

  “Don’t call me boy,” Blake said.

  “Don’t boss me. Who stole her treat?”

  Neither one said a word.

  “Then you will both go to Bowie to the Walmart store this week sometime. I expect to see two cans of that very brand on the shelf come Friday. She gets one can a night and I bought enough to last until next Sunday. Two are missing. Don’t be buyin’ Delilah no cheap generic crap. She likes her viennie weenies in that brand.”

  “Ace,” Dalton pleaded.

  Ace threw up both hands. “Don’t look at me. I didn’t steal the sausages that Lucy buys for her cat.”

  “Shhh,” Lucy said. “Don’t say that so loud. I’ve convinced her that those are canned mice.”

  “Yuk!” Dalton’s nose snarled.

  Blake threw a hand over his mouth. “Shit! Lucy.”

  “No, not shit! She wouldn’t eat that. They are prime quality canned mice with the guts and hair removed.” Lucy’s big blue eyes twinkled. “And every night before she goes to bed she gets a can so come next Friday night there had better be”—she looked down the hall to be sure Delilah was still in the bedroom—“Vienna sausages in the pantry or I swear I’ll dose a batch of brownies and you’ll think shit.”

  “Okay, okay! I’ll make sure I replace them and believe me, after hearing you call them mice, I’ll never eat the things again.” Dalton sighed. “Is there anything else we aren’t supposed to touch?”

  Lucy shook her finger at them. “Don’t be eating her special food in the bag. It might smell like party mix but it’s hers and it’s marked C-A-T on the outside. And the stuff in the cans with a cute yellow cat on the front belongs to her. Other than those three things, the rest of the pantry is open.”

  Delilah chose that moment to sashay into the living room, her big yellow tail held high and her long hair brushed to a sheen. She sniffed the air and went straight to the coffee table. She sniffed the cans and looked up at Lucy.

  She picked up the cat and held her close. “I know, baby. Those two mean old boys ate your special treats, but we have more in the pantry and there will be replacement cans for the end of the week or else they are going to trap, skin, and gut some real mice for you.”

  Dalton shivered.

  “Not too fond of going rat huntin’, are you?” Ace asked.

  Jasmine was giggling so hard that her ribs ached. She followed Lucy into the kitchen and watched her put Delilah on the cabinet before she opened a can of Vienna sausage. Delilah got a whiff of
the can and jumped from the counter to the floor and weaved in and out between Lucy’s legs.

  Jasmine leaned on the counter. “I was afraid all these men folks would intimidate you. Guess I was wrong.”

  “Ain’t no man alive going to ever intimidate me again. And those two won’t be stealing from Delilah again, I’ll guaran-damn-tee it.” Lucy laughed.

  “Well, if I’d been the sorry culprit that had just fought with you, I’d never eat another little weenie again.”

  Lucy was a small woman—petite, delicate-boned. But when she got really tickled, her laughter sounded like it was coming out of a three-hundred-pound truck driver.

  “What?” Jasmine asked.

  “You just said you’d never eat a little weenie again? I was wondering about Ace and just how big…” Another spasm of laughter had her pounding on the counter with her fists.

  Jasmine gasped. “God, Almighty!”

  Dammit! I’m sounding more and more like my mother. Does this happen to all women? Do they turn into their mothers when they get married?

  It started as a giggle in Jasmine’s throat and soon she had her arm around Lucy and they were both carrying on like they’d just finished off a whole fifth of good Jack Daniel’s whiskey.

  Ace poked his head in the kitchen door with Dalton and Blake right behind them. Lucy looked up and got tickled all over again. “Wonder if all Riley men have little…”

  “Little what?” Blake asked.

  “Brains,” Jasmine said quickly.

  Lucy wiped her eyes with a dish towel and picked up Delilah, who had licked her plate clean.

  “Good girl. You ate all your little…” She looked over at Jasmine.

  That brought on another burst of laughter from Jasmine and Lucy both.

  “What is so damned funny?” Dalton asked.

  “Lucy just told you.”

  Lucy rolled her eyes. “Their brains are definitely little. Maybe it’s a sign.”

  “Inside joke or something?” Ace asked.

  “Well, it’s damn sure not funny to me,” Dalton said.

  “It wouldn’t be. Anyone who’d eat my cat’s mice wouldn’t have a sense of humor,” Lucy said.

  “Quit calling them that! They are just little weenie things,” Blake said.

  “Takes one to know one.” Lucy’s eyes glittered.

  “Know what? What in the hell are you talking about?” Dalton asked.

  Jasmine looped her arm in Ace’s. “Shall we leave the children to their bickering and take a walk out around the place?”

  “You’re going to leave us in here with that devil-woman?” Dalton asked.

  “Be careful what you call me. I might trap some rats and fix you a fine dish of spaghetti.”

  Lucy was still twisting them up in knots with her bantering when Jasmine and Ace left the house by the back door.

  The temperature hadn’t cooled down with the setting of the sun. There was a faint breeze that tickled the tree leaves, making them do a slow country waltz, but it was not enough to create a big stir that would shake them like they were line dancing.

  They’d left the house behind them and were on their way to the hay barn when Ace finally broke the comfortable silence. “So what was so funny back there about canned sausage? Is Lucy losing her mind over the fire after all? Kind of like that post-traumatic stress thing that soldiers get? Tyson has it, but it made him just hole up inside himself. Dexter is his uncle and he thought that hard work would help him work through frustrations. Quietness would help him work through it in his mind. Sometimes I wonder if it’s working at all and with Lucy it’s only been two days. Maybe the shock is just now setting in for her.”

  Jasmine stopped at the edge of a small creek and sat down, pulled off her shoes, rolled up her jeans, and put her feet in the water. “Lucy is just fine. She’s a strong woman and believe me, PTSD won’t ever get a hold on Lucy.”

  Ace jerked off his boots, pulled up the legs of his jeans, and joined Jasmine. The clear running water was cool on his toes, but when he moved his foot over to flirt with hers, his foot was suddenly hot.

  Jasmine swished her foot in the cool water, but it didn’t work. When she brought it back to the comfortable resting place and touched his, the heat was still there. If she could harness the electricity sparked by their feet touching she could save them an energy bill at the ranch.

  “Why do you say that Lucy won’t ever feel the after effects of that fire? It took everything,” Ace said.

  “She told me on the way to the ranch that she had less and she had more. She had more pride, more confidence, and a cat that she didn’t bring with her before. But she had fewer bruises and less aches, pains, and fears. Fire had destroyed what she’d accumulated for the past year and a half in the way of material things; it had done nothing to destroy all the things she’d accumulated in spiritual things. So she wasn’t too worried about it because material things could be replaced. As long as she had Delilah, a job where she could still have her meetings on Sunday, and a place to live, then she was still a blessed woman.”

  “You are right. She’s made out of steel,” Ace said.

  Jasmine eased back on the grassy bank and hoped that there were no chiggers. She sure didn’t want to wake up with little itchy red bite marks all over her body the next morning.

  “Want to go skinny-dippin’?” Ace changed the subject abruptly.

  Jasmine shot a glance toward him to see his eyes glittering and a big grin on his face. She forgot all about chiggers when a vision materialized of a naked Ace lying beside her in the sandy bottom creek with the cool clear water flowing over them. “Water’s not deep enough for skinny-dippin’, but we might go skinny-stretchin’ if you think the children won’t follow us to tattle on each other.”

  Ace chuckled. “Skinny-stretchin’? Ain’t never heard of that.”

  “Shuck ’em all off and lay down in the water, let it bubble over us like a Jacuzzi with cold water instead of hot,” she said.

  He peeled his T-shirt over his head and tossed it back farther on the bank with their boots and shoes. “We were doing fine with two boys, but you had to bring that mouthy girl into the picture. She’s the one that is causing all the trouble.”

  Jasmine unbuttoned her sleeveless cotton shirt and threw it over her shoulder. “Well, your two boys need to leave her toys alone.”

  Ace leaned across the space and tipped her chin up. The kiss was gentle, and then deepened into hard, and when his tongue reached into her mouth to flirt with hers, it became so intense that liquid spasms vibrated in Jasmine’s lower belly.

  That’s it! It’s the kiss. No wonder so many women flock around him. It’s the way he kisses. Like fire and ice mixed together. Sweet and demanding all at once. Twisting up my mind, heart, and soul into a braided rope. We’d never kissed before the wedding! It’s his addictive kisses that make me feel like a real bride.

  He jerked the snap loose at the top of her jeans, unzipped them, and tugged them down over her well-rounded butt. “Ah, lacy panties.”

  “That do something for you?” she asked.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Whew! He even whispers with a sexy drawl.

  “Everything about you gets my attention.” His jeans came off in a blur.

  She reached behind her back and unfastened her bra. “Is that a line?”

  “No. I only say that to the women I go skinny-stretchin’ with. Let me do the honors with those cute little panties.”

  Kneeling in the grass, he ran his tongue around her belly button and down to the edge of the panties before hooking his forefingers in the sides and slowly taking them to the ground, tasting every inch of her legs along the way.

  Her knees trembled and she needed the cold water over her body by the time he scooped her up and carried her to the middle of the sandy bottom creek. She gasped when he sat down with her in his lap. He was fully aroused and the cold water didn’t do a thing to take the heat out of either of them.

  The
creek water made a blanket for Ace’s body from the waist down and covered the parts of Jasmine that weren’t resting in the crook of his arm. Snuggled up to him with water flowing around them was almost as sensual as Ace’s kisses. The water cooled her body; his thumb heated it as he made lazy circles on her back under the water.

  “Water bed,” she said.

  Ace even chuckled in a Texas drawl so sexy that it would make a woman’s hormones go from zero to the speed of light in less than a split second.

  “Yep, I guess it is, but I like this one better than any of the others I’ve tried,” he said.

  “Oh?” She looked up at him, his strange gray-blue eyes looking even more eerie by the light of a full moon hanging on the top of the willow trees lining the creek bank. She’d never noticed before how mesmerizing they were.

  “Never did like a real water bed. Too much movement. But this sandy bottom and water just deep enough…” His words trailed off as his hand roamed down her back to cup a butt cheek and squeeze gently.

  She squirmed free of his hands, threw a leg over his body, and sat down on his belly. She could feel his erection against her hip. She leaned forward, breasts brushing against his chest, and kissed him hard.

  One of his hands snaked up around her neck and he tangled his fingers in her dark hair, holding her head in place to keep her lips on his. The other hand wrapped around her waist and held her so close that a cup full of water couldn’t get between them. He moaned when her breasts pressed tighter into his broad chest.

  She broke the string of steamy kisses and slid backwards on his wet body, rose up slightly, and with a wiggle slid him into her. One hand on his tight abs and the other behind her on his tense thigh, she began an easy rhythm.

  He smiled. “Oh, yes, I do like this water bed better.”

  “So do I,” she gasped between words.

  “You are beautiful in the moonlight,” he whispered.

  His words were as hot in her ears as his body was to her touch.

  “Who needs… a fancy… hotel… with…”

  “A Jacuzzi.” He chuckled as he grabbed her around the waist and flipped her over and began a rhythm of his own, faster, harder, and more furious than what she was delivering. The cool water rushing around him with each thrust was as heady as the kisses she demanded, her fingers tangled in his wet hair.