One Hot Cowboy Wedding (33 page)

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him. It was either that or forget the fish and make love to her. And he’d planned much more before that happened.

“Ten minutes and you’ll have the best fish you’ve ever eaten. Oil should be hot enough to float it in that length of time.”

“Float it?”

“When it floats, it’s done. I’ll scoop it up and bring it to you. You never cooked fish?”

She shook her head. “I like it but I don’t cook it.

Tried a couple of times but it came out soggy.” He dropped the breaded fish into the hot oil and it bubbled. While it cooked he went out to the boat and brought a big paper bag to the blanket. From that he produced paper plates, a roll of paper towels, a loaf of bread, and a container of tartar sauce and one of coleslaw.

“Forks?” He pulled plastic ones from the sack.

“You’re pretty good at this,” she said.

By then the first batch of fish was done. He scooped it up from the hot oil onto a paper towel- lined plate and carried it to her. He picked up a piece of fish and held it up to her mouth. “Taste.”

“Mmmmmm,” she mumbled as she chewed.

It was hot and then it was
hot
. Something in the corn-meal had added spicy hot to the fire hot, giving it a wonderful flavor. She wrapped the next piece up in a slice of bread and added tartar sauce, making a fish sandwich.

“Not bad for this time of year. Sometimes it gets muddy tasting when the river gets low, but the early rains this spring helped keep the river flowing.”

“What makes it hot?” she asked.

“Fire.” He laughed.

“You know what I’m talking about.”

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“Good fisherman doesn’t share his secrets. Not even with his beautiful wife. Got to have something to keep her coming back for more. If she knows how to cook hot fish then she wouldn’t need him anymore.”

“You didn’t share with any of those five- star women?” she asked.

“Darlin’, I’ve never cooked fish for another woman. This is usually one of those BFF things that men do while you women do one of your girls’ night out things. And let me tell you something about that book. It don’t matter how many names are in the book.

The only one that matters is the name that makes a man burn it.”

Jasmine looked into his eyes. She knew him well, and he was not teasing. He was dead serious. “Even if the man didn’t want to burn it but was forced into it because his brothers were sitting in the living room and they’d find out the marriage wasn’t what it appeared to be on the surface?” she asked.

Ace ran his forefinger down her jawline.

Every nerve ending in her body was suddenly hotter than the fish.

“Darlin’, if I’d wanted that book I wouldn’t have let Lucy burn it. I’d have slipped around behind your back and talked her into giving it back to me. Yours was the name that made me ready to get rid of the book. Keep eating. Date night is not over until curfew. Isn’t that about midnight when there’s kids in the house?” She giggled. “Sounds about right.”

“The sun is beautiful when it sets over the water this time of year. Ever made love on the banks of the river under a willow tree?”

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“No, but I betcha I’m about to find out what it’s like,” she said.

“All in due time, sweetheart. Now we eat, then we skinny- dip, and then we make love and wallow around in that afterglow stuff before we go home.”

“You really are a romantic, Ace Riley.”

“Of course I am. Good- timin’ cowboys are always romantic.”

“Egotistical, too!”

“Now, don’t be startin’ a fight, darlin’. Eat your fish and then we’ll take us a nice nap until the moon comes up.”

“What’s the moon got to do with anything?” she asked.

“It’s a surprise.”

They ate and he packed the rest of the fish fillets into the chest with the ice.

They napped with her snuggled up against his side even though they were both sweating hot, and he awoke her with sweet kisses and a nod toward the west where the sun was setting over the river in a whole array of browns, oranges, and deep yellows.

“There is the moon,” she said.

“Yes, so it’s time to go skinny- dipping in the moonlight. I’ve been lookin’ forward to seeing you all wet in the moonlight again ever since we made love in the creek,” he said.

“Are you serious? Is it deep enough to swim?”

“Right here it is and since I’m pampering you, I get to take those cute little shorts off and untie that thing behind your neck.”

She giggled and sat up. “Have at it. I like this pampering business.”

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They skinny- dipped and he wiggled through the water like a fish, nibbling at her toes and making her squeal when he ran his hands up her inner thighs. Like two innocent children romping in the water, they played and Jasmine loved every minute of it.

And then he carried her back to the blanket. They were wet and naked; cool on the outside, hot as hell on the inside. She sat on her knees with him in front of her with a foot of space between them. He leaned forward and licked a drop of water from her lower lip. She leaned forward and put so much passion into the kiss that he was instantly aroused and ready.

“Slow,” he mumbled.

“Slow it is, but closer. I want to feel you.” He opened his arms and she moved into them.

His hands splayed out against her back.

Her fingers tangled into his wet hair and pulled his mouth back down to hers for more wet, wild kisses. Just how slow was slow, anyway, she wondered.

“You are so very lovely by the moonlight,” he said.

She didn’t even think about that being a line. His tone and his body language said that he was talking to her, not reciting pickup lines.

“You are a wet Greek god,” she muttered as she ran her hands over his slick chest.

“Never been called that before,” he said. “But I like it.” He covered her mouth with his and tasted the remnants of fish and river water. “I want you so bad, Jasmine.” She wrapped her legs around him and didn’t even see the possum stealing bread from the other side of the blanket.

It wasn’t sex.

They made sweet, passionate love.

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And the climax brought an afterglow that wrapped itself around them like a golden aura and they slept again in a world where no words were necessary.

When she awoke, he was propped on an elbow staring down at her, his eyes softer and more dreamy than they’d ever been before. “You truly are beautiful, Jazzy,” he said hoarsely.

“So are you, Ace.”

“Beautiful?”

“Handsome, sexy, beautiful, and one very, very hot cowboy.”

“Even with a shaved chest?’

“It’s only hair. It’ll grow back.” She ran a hand over his sleek chest and kissed each nipple. “This was the most wonderful date I’ve ever been on.”

“Me too, Jazzy.”

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On Tuesday Wil called Jasmine to ask a favor. It was hay season in his world too, but he was caught up until the end of the week and Pearl needed a girls’ night out. She was stir- crazy and bone tired after three weeks of twins.

“And she’s weepy. Help me, please,” Wil said.

“How about I bring Gemma and Lucy and we watch the boys and let the two of you have dinner and a movie?” Jasmine offered.

“Sounds wonderful, but I want her to have a night away from it al . I’ve talked to Rye and Raylen and they’re willin’ to come help me out,” Wil answered.

“Okay, I’ll call in the troops. What night are you thinking?”

“Tomorrow,” Wil said quickly.

“Then tomorrow it is.”

“I owe you one, Jasmine. She’ll be so excited.” So on Wednesday night, Rye, Wil, and Raylen were left behind at Wil’s ranch house with two baby boys, one baby girl, a list of instructions, and the remote control.

Wil kissed Pearl at the door and told her not to worry about anything and to have a good time.

“I can’t go, Wil. What if they need me? What if Jesse wants to be rocked at bedtime and you can’t get him to sleep? What if one of them gets sick and you have to take him to the hospital? I can’t go,” Pearl fretted.

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Jasmine looped her arm through Pearl’s. “Three strong men can take turns rocking Jesse and if one of the boys gets sick, we’re barely thirty minutes away and you can even keep your cell phone on all night, which is against the rules on girls’ night out. You are coming with us so stop your worrying.”

Wil mouthed a “thank you” to Jasmine as she talked Pearl out onto the porch.

Rye kissed Austin and whispered that he was a pro at the father business and he’d take care of everything.

“I’ve got faith in al of you, but remember the first time I left Rachel?”

“Oh, yeah!” Rye grinned.

Raylen kissed Liz and told her that he’d miss her horribly.

“Will I ever be like that?” she asked.

“Oh, yes, you will,” Rye answered for him.

Three women crawled into the front of the club cab truck and three into the backseat.

Pearl dabbed at a tear.

“Stop it!” Jasmine said. “You’ll mess up your makeup and you need this night out with us.”

“We all need it,” Liz said. “We need to go bitch about our husbands and boyfriends not having a spare minute for us since hay season started, right, girls?”

“Amen, sister! And don’t fret, Pearl. Wil can always hol er at Rye. He’s an old hand now at the baby business,” Austin said.

“I ain’t never been on a girls’ night out before. What do we do?” Lucy asked.

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of us are married except you and Gemma. So it would not be a good idea to go clubbing,” Austin said.

“Dammit!” Pearl said loudly. “I didn’t read that damn marriage license close enough. Did it say ‘I promise to never go clubbing again’?”

“That’s the spirit.” Jasmine laughed.

Liz leaned forward and tapped Jasmine on the shoulder. “You’re the one who got married last. Have the vows changed? Do they say ‘I promise to burn my little black book when I get home and never go clubbing with the girls again’?”

Lucy laughed. “No, they say ‘I will give my book to Lucy to burn.’ Gemma, you need anything cremated after you get married, you just bring it to me. I’ve got an old galvanized milk bucket that I use to cremate the remains of the past.”

“And do you say a curse on anyone who comes back to tempt the newly wedded husband when you scatter the ashes?” Gemma asked.

“Hell, no!” Liz said. “That’s my job. I’m the gypsy carnie woman. I can tell your fortunes or put a curse on the cremated remains of a black book. Your choice for five bucks.”

Pearl giggled.

Jasmine could have stopped the truck and hugged all the girls for that one giggle.

“I’ve got a five in my purse. I’ll dig it out when we get to the restaurant. I want the curse,” Jasmine said.

“Okay, are we only talking about black books?” Gemma asked. “Can you put a curse on things other than black books, Liz?”

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ever find a black book in Rye’s stuff,” Austin said. “But I think we’ve missed something, Lucy. Did you burn someone’s address book or what?”

Lucy smiled. “Last year Pearl brought me her address book and told me to burn it and make sure the ashes were scattered far and near and there wasn’t a bit of anything left with a name on it for Wil to find. I got to tell you, girls, it was a thick book. That girl was flat out a party girl. Wil must be a strong man to tame her down.”

“Believe me, he is.” Pearl nodded. “I’m just going to make one call to see if everything is all right before we get too far out of town.”

Everyone was quiet and the call only lasted a few seconds. “Wil says I can only call once an hour from now on.”

“Good man,” Jasmine said.

Lucy went on, “Couple of days ago Jasmine had bad luck all day. Started off with her alarm clock not waking her up and didn’t get no better. Mr. Murphy, that feller who controls bad luck, poured out an extra supply on her head. Way I figure it is that two people don’t get to sit down on a blanket in a pretty little field of yellow daisies with blue birds hoppin’ around singin’ songs in the trees above them and just flat fall in love. If they did, it would be boring as hell. So the good Lord employs Mr. Murphy to come around and throw a little heat at two people who are in love. It toughens them up so that when the big storms come later, like raisin’ teenage boys or even boys in their twenties like Blake and Dalton, that those people in love can weather the storm. So Jasmine and Ace got a little bit of heat blown on their cute little world when Jasmine found his little black sin book with OneHotCowboyWedding.indd 296

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all the women’s names in it that he’s known, kissed, or screwed around with.” She went on to tel the rest of the story in her southern accent, tossing in Kentucky wisdom along the way.

Pearl laughed first, and then suddenly giggles echoed off the windows and the ceiling sounding like a play-ground full of third grade girls telling secrets.

Lucy wiped her eyes and continued, “And so here I am with this little pile of ashes and two blobs of gold.

Would you believe those initials were real gold, not just painted on with gold glitter from the hobby store? Well, they were! They had little thumbtack lookin’ things on the back that pinned them right into that red leather. And they melted into a couple of bubbles of gold. I hated to pour that out in the hog lot. All those women’s names and stars burned up into ashes was one thing for the hogs to root around in, but those two little gold shiny things in the wallow. Why, they’d be tellin’ all their other hog friends that they had a gold- studded wallow at their place.”