“Hey.” Liz crawled out of her truck. “I’m on my way to Ryan for a load of feed. I saw your truck and thought I’d stop and tell you that the O’Donnells can bring the music to your party. Granny is all excited about it.”
“Thank you and tell Granny thank you,” Jasmine said.
“You sick? Or is it just this damned heat? We need a good rain for sure to cool things off a bit. Hate to even think about August when it’s this hot in June.” Liz fished around in her purse and found a rubber band, whipped her hair up into a ponytail, and secured it, and then she sat down on the top porch step in the shade.
“No, I’m not sick, but it is hot. Want to go inside?”
“No, you done shut up for the day. Why aren’t you already headed home?”
Jasmine told her about the little red book. “It’s not the book itself. I’m just wondering why it’s in my purse and if Ace put it there to tease me. If so, it’s not a funny joke. And if he put it there…” She stopped before she blurted out that he was making a statement about her not being a real wife.
Liz fanned her face with her hand. “When Raylen and I went out on our first real date, we were eating at the Olive Garden over in Wichita Falls and the waitress said she hadn’t seen Ace in a while. Raylen and I were laughing about how he should have to put a tattoo on all the women he’d dated so other women could spot them. I’m not surprised that he has a book with his women in it or that they’ve got stars. What I am surprised about is that he hasn’t destroyed it. You are my friend and I wouldn’t say a thing to hurt you, but darlin’, you knew Ace better than anyone in the world. You knew what you were getting when you married him, so why does that book bother you so much? Burn the damn thing or give it to him and tell him you’ll burn him at the stake if he don’t set it on fire.”
“Did Raylen have one?”
“Yes, he did. I never saw it, but one day I caught him burning something in a metal can out in the barn. Spooked my horse, Star, and he was pitching a fit in his stall. When I asked Raylen what he was doing, setting a fire in the barn, he laughed and told me he was burning his past because he damn sure didn’t ever want me to find it. You really aren’t going to look in it?” Liz asked.
Jasmine shook her head. “I flipped through it and saw all those stars and then I read the first page. Here, you read it.” She pulled it from her purse and handed it to Liz.
“Oh, my!” Liz said when she read what Mallory wrote. “Is he that good?”
“Is Raylen?”
“Point taken.” Liz handed the book back.
Jasmine dropped it into her purse. “Now I remember! I spilled my purse twice today. This morning and a few minutes ago. It was dark this morning and some of the stuff went under the bed. I scooped it all up with my forearm. I must’ve gotten that book in with my stuff then. But why was it under the bed?”
Liz shrugged. “Maybe he dropped it or kept it stuck between the mattress and the box springs like a little boy with his stolen girly magazines and it fell out when y’all were bouncing the mattress.”
Jasmine would have shot him right there if he’d been standing in front of her and she had a gun. He’d had all those women right there under them when he was making passionate love to her. He could have at least put them on the top shelf in his closet in a shoebox of rodeo memorabilia. Dammit!
She almost opened it to the K’s to see if Jasmine King was in there, but she couldn’t. Just thinking about it put a burning blush on her face. If she only had two stars by her name after the ice cream sex, she’d be so mad she’d go up in flames and prove that internal combustion was indeed a possibility.
“I’m glad I didn’t ever find Raylen’s book. I’ve never heard of a Mallory so you’ll never have to meet her. She’s probably someone he met on the rodeo rounds, maybe a groupie. I read somewhere that they are always buying their cowboys presents,” Liz said.
“You are probably right.”
Liz stood up. “I’ve got to go or I won’t make it to the feed store before it closes. Just wanted to stop and offer our music for the party. Call if you need to talk.”
“I will and thanks again for everything,” Jasmine said.
“Sure thing.” Liz hurried across the lot to her truck.
Jasmine followed her and hopped inside her own truck, turned the key, and adjusted the air conditioning to the highest notch. Heat came off the highway in waves, distorting images like special effects on a movie, and it took a full minute for the air conditioner to blow anything but hot air.
She had her hand on the gearshift to put it in reverse when her phone rang. The ringtone was “Redneck Woman,” which meant Pearl was calling.
“I’m glad you called. I just found out today that I’ve married you. Does Wil see a good therapist and is he taking new clients?” Jasmine asked.
“Whoa, girl! What are you talking about?” Pearl gasped.
“I found Ace’s little black book, only it’s a little red book and I didn’t read it but I flipped it and there’s more stars than the galaxy in it, and some woman gave it to him named Mallory and she gave him five stars for sex,” Jasmine said without taking a breath.
“And that means you married me?” Pearl asked.
“No, I married the male species of you. You were the party girl of north Texas. It looks like Ace is the good-timin’ cowboy of the whole damn state,” she said.
Pearl giggled.
“What’s so funny?” Jasmine asked.
“Two things. One is that you didn’t go into this blind, girl. Ace was the good-timin’ cowboy of the whole state like you said, but you knew that. Hell, you knew his secrets and the women’s names. You could have blackmailed him but you married him so don’t come bitchin’ to me about findin’ his past. And two, I was thinkin’ of my little purple book.”
“And what happened to it?”
“I gave it to Lucy the day before the wedding and told her to make sure it was burned to nothing but ash. I sure didn’t want Wil to find it. Which brings me to the reason I called, now that we’ve established that you did not marry me. I’ve got two things in that category too. Number one: How is Lucy doing out there on the ranch?”
“Great. She fit in from day one like she’d been there her whole life. I think she’s even going to bring Tyson back to the living with her cooking and patience. I’m wondering how the Double Deuce ever survived without her. Now back to the book. What should I do with it, in your opinion?”
“Give it to Lucy and then tell Ace what you did,” Pearl said.
“Or?”
“No ‘or’s in this case. Just do it. I’m surprised you haven’t called me to carry on about his women callin’ every hour all day like they used to do.”
Jasmine got angry all over again. His women probably were calling. She tuned back in to hear Pearl saying, “But then when your marriage is broadcast over national television, I guess most of them know he’s branded and leave him alone. Still there would have been a few who wouldn’t care if he was married or not. Only advice I’ve got is to give it to Lucy.”
“Okay, y’all are still coming to the party, aren’t you?”
“Of course,” Pearl said. “I still can’t believe you stood up to Kelly like that. If it wasn’t for the fact that you are selling her the café she’d probably be commissioning someone to build a gallows to hang you from. Which brings me to item number two.”
It was Jasmine’s turn to gasp. “I’m not selling her my café. She wants to buy it, but the Chicken Fried is not for sale.”
“She’s going to gripe and complain until you get pregnant with her grandbaby. You might as well go on and sell the café to keep her mind off you for a while,” Pearl told her.
“No, thank you! And what’s item two?”
“Your dad asked me how much you still owed on the café. He said that he was using the wedding money to pay off the café for you and that they were going to give you fair market price for it too, since it would be an investment. He’s got it all fig
ured out and I got the check for the café today so you now own it, lock, stock, and barrel.”
“Holy shit!” Jasmine said.
“No, just a check. Been a pleasure doin’ business with you. And here’s a beep. It’s Momma and if I don’t answer, she’ll be in the car driving over here. Good-bye and good luck holding on to that café.”
The line went dead.
The year before, Pearl had loaned her the money to buy the café and Jasmine had made regular monthly payments. Now it was paid for with her wedding money. More and more complications! She flipped her phone shut and tossed it in her purse. She put the truck in gear and headed home. She didn’t notice that there was an extra pickup truck parked in the line in front of the house until she was already on the porch. Then she turned around and counted with her forefinger. Four. That meant they had company. She slung open the door and stepped to find a tall blonde with her arms around Ace in what looked like a pretty serious hug. The hussy was dressed in a white strapless sundress, had a killer tan, big blue eyes, and long, long legs.
The scenario stopped the earth from turning as if someone had pushed a pause button on life. The sun stood still. Everything and everyone froze in place. The fly that had been buzzing around her head stopped. The hug went on and on.
And then the woman stepped back and smiled at her. “You must be Jasmine. Acey said you’d be home pretty soon. Tomorrow, then?” She looked back at Ace.
At least he had the good grace to step back two steps and blush. “Honey, this is Mallory. She’s a photographer from over in Wichita Falls. She’ll be here tomorrow to take pictures of me for next year’s cowboy calendar. I’m Mr. July,” he said.
Mallory laid a possessive hand on his arm. “We’ve been doing this for ten years now. Acey makes a wonderful Mr. July.”
“Tomorrow?” She was stunned to hear even one word come out sounding normal and that she hadn’t slapped that grin off Mallory’s face. Would this day never end?
“We got plans?” Ace asked.
“No,” she said. But if she’d had some forewarning they would have definitely had plans.
“Good. Then I’ll see you about three. I’ll bring the flag for the backdrop for Ace. You wear the same as last year. We’ll take them in the old barn this year rather than out in the field for something different. Blake, we might do yours by that old rusty tractor out behind the barn, and Dalton, I’m thinkin’ of yours in the hayloft,” Mallory said.
She breezed past Jasmine leaving a cloud of expensive perfume in her wake. When she was gone, Jasmine looked at Ace who threw up his hands defensively.
“I forgot that she was coming by. It was written on the calendar in my computer but I haven’t looked at it in weeks. We’ve done this for years. Blake is Mr. June and Dalton is Mr. August. I’ll be wearing jeans, but the top button will probably be undone, and no shirt, but I’ll have my boots on. You got a problem with it?” Ace folded his hands across his chest.
“Of course not. Why would I? I’m doing a hot rod calendar. I’ll be wearing little red velvet hip-slung short shorts and no top, but the photographer is shooting it from behind and my hair covers most of my back. Last year, it only showed the shadow of my boobs. The hot rod I get to lean back on this year is candy apple red so I’ll have to shop for some lipstick that color. Want to go with me this Saturday or should I ask Lucy to shop with me while you get ready for your photo shoot?” The outlandish lie got bigger with every sentence.
“You will not! You are a married woman. I don’t want men looking at you half naked.” He raised his voice.
“Deal with it, darlin’.” She deliberately and slowly brushed her body across his on her way to the living room.
He glared at her.
She ignored him.
The living room smelled like a Stetson factory had exploded right smack in the middle of it. Blake and Dalton lazed on the sofa with their feet propped on the coffee table. They wore clean jeans, ironed shirts, and polished boots. Jasmine turned to take more notice of Ace and found him dressed up too.
“What’s going on here? Are we having a party no one told me about?” she asked.
“Nope. Just Mallory coming by,” Blake said.
Jasmine’s hands clenched into fists. “And you forgot?”
“Remembered this morning when I looked at the calendar,” he said coldly. “Why are you so jealous? We’ve all been doing this for years.”
“Ten? Right?”
“Right. How long have you been modeling for the hot rod calendars?” he asked.
“Since I was sixteen,” she lied again.
“What’s going on in here?” Lucy came in the back door. “I can feel the tension all the way in the yard. Was that one of your girlfriends that just left, Blake? I swear if another of your bimbos lets Delilah out the front door like the last one did, I’m going to put a curse on your sorry ass.”
“Jasmine is all hot under the collar because Ace is going to model for a cowboy calendar. He’s been posin’ for years, but this is just me and Dalton’s second time to get to do it,” Blake said. “That was the photographer, Mallory, who takes the pictures. She catches all three of us at one time.”
“Yep, the hottest cowboys in Texas in the hot summertime,” Dalton said.
Jasmine shot him a stinging go-to-hell look.
“What? That’s what she said, not me,” he said.
“Acey?” Jasmine stepped up into his face.
“Boy, you are in a heap of big-time trouble,” Lucy said. “You and Jasmine better go on to the bedroom and get this settled once and for all.”
Jasmine dug in her purse and tossed the red book across the room to Lucy.
“That’s mine!” Dalton tried to catch it in midair.
Blake tackled him for it. “No, he’s married and I get it.”
Lucy picked it out of the air above their heads like a football pass into the end zone. “This what I think it is?”
Ace stared at the book and wondered how it got from under the lamp on his nightstand into Jasmine’s hands.
Jasmine answered Lucy, but she looked straight into Ace’s eyes. “Found it hiding under the bed this morning. I understand you know how to cremate those things. Wash out one of Delilah’s fancy cat food cans and put the ashes in it. Seems like a fitting urn, doesn’t it?”
Lucy nodded seriously. “Belong to you or Ace?”
It was the first time that it occurred to Ace that Jasmine might have a book filled with stars and names like his. Just thinking about another man rubbing her back after a stressful day’s work at the café made his chest clinch up in knots.
“It’s mine,” Ace growled with his gaze locked with Jasmine’s. “Burn it and spread the ashes over the hog lot. My rooting days are over.”
“Ah, man, give it to me. Don’t waste all that good research,” Dalton said.
“Man has to do his own research. Now your turn, Jazzy. Where is your book?”
“Already gone,” she said. It wasn’t really a lie. It had never existed, so it was gone.
“You really going to pose for that hot rod calendar?” he asked.
Blake looked up from the sofa. “Wow! You model for hot rod calendars! Damn, I’ll buy a dozen for my friends.”
“You really going to pose for the cowboy calendar?” she asked.
He nodded. “This year. I won’t next year.”
“Then I won’t next year either,” she said.
“Now, there! We’ve got a truce.” Lucy smiled. “But I still feel some tension so you two get on back in your room and don’t come out until the fight is really finished.”
“After you.” Ace motioned toward the door.
“Thank you, Acey,” she said.
“Enough!” he said.
She pointed her finger at his nose. “Not yet, darlin’. When I hear you tell your sweet Mallory that this is your last time to model, then it will be enough… Acey.”
He picked her up like a sack of flour and tossed her over his shoul
der. “Married people don’t fight in front of the children. We’ll finish this in the bedroom. We’ll be in the bunkhouse in plenty of time for supper, Lucy, and she’ll have a smile on her face.”
“You are full of bullshit!” Jasmine had trouble breathing and her words came out in short spurts.
“So are you, Mrs. Riley,” he whispered as he carried her down the hall and into the bedroom. He kicked the door shut with his boot heel and tossed her on the bed.
She bounced twice before he landed on top of her, his lips connecting to hers in a clash of passion that sent sparks dancing around the room, and heat flowing over every inch of Jasmine’s body.
“I’m still mad at you,” she said.
He propped up on his elbows. “And I’m still mad at you for telling Lucy to burn my book.”
“You put stars in front of their names, Acey baby!”
“You actually read it!” He gasped.
“No, but I flipped through it.”
A wide grin split his face. “You got more stars than any of them, darlin’.”
She blinked so fast he was a blur. “I was in that atrocity?”
He lowered his lips to brush across hers. “Now you will never know unless you go out to the hog lot and sift through the ashes or else tell Lucy you want it back.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and nipped his lower lip. “Don’t tease me, cowboy. Kiss me right,” she whispered.
“My pleasure.” He devoured her lips, tasting, teasing, tempting until he was so aroused that he couldn’t bear it another minute.
He didn’t know when it happened, but she had his belt buckle undone and her hand around an already hard erection. He wondered how something so small and so cool as her hand could have so much heat and power over him.
She wasn’t aware of when he’d unfastened her bra, but suddenly his mouth left her lips and was kissing its way toward her breast. His tongue was velvet heat when it found its destination and she arched against him.
“Still mad?” he asked.
“I’ll be even madder if you don’t finish what you’ve started,” she panted.
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