One Hot Cowboy Wedding

One HOt

COwbOy wedding

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Copyright © 2012 by Carolyn Brown

Cover and internal design © 2012 by Sourcebooks, Inc.

Cover illustration by Chris Cocozza

Sourcebooks and the colophon are registered trademarks of Sourcebooks, Inc.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems— except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews— without permission in writing from its publisher, Sourcebooks, Inc.

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

Published by Sourcebooks Casablanca, an imprint of Sourcebooks, Inc.

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Printed and bound in the United States of America 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

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To Charles Brown

With love and thanks for all you do to make my world
run smooth!

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Shhhh! It’S a Secret!

That line had run around in Jasmine’s mind all day on a continuous loop. She imagined two little girls playing out on the grassy lawn with their Barbie dolls and it was a secret where Barbie and Ken were going for supper.

Then two middle school girls in her bedroom gossiping about boys, and it was a secret.

Oh, the secrets she and Pearl had shared through the years, and now she had one that she couldn’t share with anyone, not even Pearl.

“No one in Texas is ever going to know. Not even Pearl. I’ll go home and everything will be the same.

I’ll wake up Monday morning, open the Chicken Fried Café, and business will go on as usual and by then I’ll forget al about this wedding. It’ll be a secret, alright, but between me and Ace, and no one else will ever know.” She talked to herself as she flopped her suitcase on the hotel bed and unzipped it. Her hands were shaking. A fine bead of moisture covered her upper lip, and second thoughts were about to smother her plumb to death.

She and Ace had taken different flights. He’d flown out of Dallas on Friday and gotten their rooms. She’d arrived late Saturday afternoon and caught a taxi to the hotel. It was down to the wire, swim or drown time, red light or green light. Her hands were clammy and sweat was pooling up around the band of her bra. Nervously, OneHotCowboyWedding.indd 1

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she looked at the clock. The hands whipped around so fast that it made her dizzy. Where had the time gone?

She took a quick shower, washed and dried her long, dark hair, and applied makeup. Then it was time to dress. Thank God the plane had been on time or she would have been rushed. She couldn’t have stood a dose of nervous and one of hurry- up at the same time.

The dress was white satin, tight fitting, and stopped at the knee. Filmy illusion was attached to a white Stetson hat in a big bow with the streamers hanging to her waist. It was sprinkled with pearls and edged with lace. The shoes were white satin with beadwork on the high heels. But Jasmine didn’t feel like a bride. She felt like an imposter.

A rapid
rat- a- tat- tat
on the door said the time was up. She opened the door to find Ace smiling from ear to ear and holding a black Stetson. He was damn sexy in his black Western- cut jacket, creased black Wranglers, and white shirt unbuttoned at the collar. His blond curls were almost tamed with a healthy dose of gel, but a few still escaped to float playfully on his forehead. But then it was common knowledge that Ace Riley was a player so he would know exactly how to dress, how to swagger, how to use that Texas drawl, and how to smile to attract the women.

He braced an arm against the doorjamb and let his gray- blue eyes slowly scan her from high heels to Stetson. That didn’t surprise Jasmine either. Flirting came as natural to Ace as breathing. The first thing he did when he walked into the café was scope it out for new skirt tails; the second was turn on the charm.

“Whew! You clean up pretty damn good, Jazzy.” OneHotCowboyWedding.indd 2

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His sexy Texas drawl was deep, and his words came out slow. Most women melted when he walked through the door and swooned when he opened his mouth. He’d never affected Jasmine that way, not until that moment.

She’d seen him before in dress jeans and crisply ironed shirts but never as fancy as he was that day. Most of the time he came into the cafe in his scuffed work boots, faded jeans, and shirts with the sleeves cut out; the barbed wire tat around his arm was a constant reminder that he never intended to let a woman anywhere near his heart. A motel bed or her bed, yes, but never his heart or his bedroom.

“Those are two places I’m saving for the love of my life if I ever meet her,” he’d told Jasmine once while he was eating hamburgers in her kitchen.

Jasmine struck a pose for him. “Do I look like a blushing bride? You know you shouldn’t be seeing me before the wedding. It’s bad luck.”

He fanned his face with his black Stetson and whistled through his teeth. “Oh, darlin’, you look every bit the part, and don’t worry about bad luck. We’re in Vegas and no one knows what we’re up to. You know what they say:
What
happens
in
Vegas
stays
in
Vegas!
We ain’t got a thing to worry about. Shall we go get married?” She looped her arm into his and pulled the door shut.

The elevator was right across from her room and opened immediately when he pushed the down button.

“See, it’s an omen. Nothing bad is going to happen because I saw you in that cute little dress. Besides, the rules are different in Vegas.”

“Oh yeah?” She looked up at him.

“Sure they are. Didn’t you read the rulebook in the OneHotCowboyWedding.indd 3

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drawer right beside the Gideon Bible? God, Jazzy, this ain’t your first time in Vegas, is it?”

“Hell, no! I’ve been here before and you are full of shit! There is no rulebook in the drawer.” She giggled.

“Did you look? Tell me, did you look in the drawer since you’ve been here this time?”

“Yes, I did,” she lied.

“Well, shit! Someone stole your rulebook. Well, on page five, paragraph six, it says that the groom can see the bride on the wedding day and that it will bring them good luck. Paragraph seven says that the only thing they have to be careful with is the blackjack tables. If the bride is wearing her wedding dress, they will lose their money there. So all we have to do is stay away from the blackjack tables. Besides, what bride and groom would spend their time gambling anyway? They’d be rufflin’

up the sheets with some hot- as- hell sex,” Ace said.

“You are full of bullshit, Ace,” she laughed.

The elevator doors slid open and he strutted out with her on his arm. Heads turned as they walked past the blackjack tables, the roulette wheels, and the slot machines. Jasmine saw one woman fan herself with the back of her hand, another licked her lips as if she could taste his kisses, and at least two wiggled as if they needed to make a dash to the bathroom and change their underpants.

Ace noticed men with hungry eyes ogling Jazzy as if they’d like to lay her down on satin sheets and peel that tight- fittin’ dress off her slow and easy. Truth was that he was thinking about how those full lips would taste; if that long hair would feel like silk as he tangled it up in his fingers; or how slick those legs would be OneHotCowboyWedding.indd 4

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wrapped around him in a Jacuzzi. He shook his head to knock out the vision and another kinky blond curl fell down on his forehead. He didn’t bother pushing it back. After the wedding he would settle his black Stetson on his head and that would keep the pesky curls away from his eyes.

At the curb, he raised his hand and a taxi pulled right up. “See, more good luck. Elevator right there waiting for us and now a taxi is Johnny- on- the- spot. I tell you this is our night, Miz Jazzy.”

“Okay, I believe you, Ace. Nothing can go wrong, and what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. Shhh, it’s a secret.” She held one finger to her lips.

He opened the door and held the streamers from her hat while Jasmine crawled into the backseat and then he followed her.

“Yes, it is a secret. Our secret and we’ll leave it right here, so don’t worry, darlin’,” he whispered.

His warm breath started something boiling down deep in her stomach. But that shouldn’t come as a surprise. She had dated four men in the past year and a half.

One of them got past the second date. None of them got farther than a goodnight kiss.

“Cupid’s Wedding Chapel,” he told the driver.

“I’ll have you there in ten minutes. Traffic isn’t bad this time of night,” he said.

“We need to be there at seven.” Ace checked his watch. They had fifteen minutes. Dammit! He’d forgotten to figure in traffic. He’d just figured on getting there right at the time, doing the deed, and getting back to the hotel where he would play the slots for a couple of hours and go to bed.

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“No problem,” the driver said. “I know a shortcut.

We’ll make it in five minutes.”

“What happens at the chapel?” Jazzy asked.

“I bought a package deal. Pictures. Bouquet for you.

License in a cute little folder with a seal on the front and the ceremony. The lawyer said to bring him a valid marriage license, but I’m taking pictures so Cole can see it was a real wedding. I appreciate you getting all dressed up, Jazzy,” he said softly.

She punched his arm playfully. “What are friends for?” He grinned. “God knows I don’t want you to back out, but I wouldn’t blame you, and we’d still be friends if you are about to change your mind.”

She shook her head emphatically. “Hell, no! That sumbitch Cole isn’t getting the farm. But I do have one question, Ace. How is it that he won’t be tel in’ the whole family anyway?”

Ace graced her with his brightest smile. “Ranch, darlin’. Not farm.”

“Okay, let’s put it this way: That sumbitch Cole ain’t gettin’ your Texas dirt whether you grow potatoes or Angus calves,” she said.

He chuckled. “I like the part about sumbitch Cole, and I’ll stick to Angus. And I’ll explain the Cole situation to you after the wedding. Don’t worry. He won’t tell a soul about the ranch if he doesn’t get it.” The taxi pulled up in front of a sweet little white chapel and parked behind a long, white limo with a driver standing at at ention beside it. Ace gave the driver a bill. Jasmine scooted out of the taxi. She hadn’t planned on moving so much in the tight- fitting dress when she bought it the previous spring. It was supposed to be worn OneHotCowboyWedding.indd 6