Red's Hot Cowboy (28 page)

“Oh, my!” she gasped.

“You sit here.” He motioned toward a quilt on the floor.

Her green eyes were big as silver dollars as she sat down. Small bales of hay lined the walls and candles in pint jars flickered light even in the darkest shadows. A short table in the middle of the quilt was spread with all kinds of finger delicacies. Cubed cheese and ham, crackers, fancy little sandwiches, and a cascade of fresh fruit. She reached out for a grape and he picked up her hand.

“No, my lady. You cannot feed yourself tonight. That is this old cowboy’s privilege.” He kissed her fingertips and then traveled up her arm to her neck to her ear and to her lips.

When she was ready for more than kisses, he stopped and put a grape between his teeth and leaned forward. She had no idea that a grape kiss could be so damn sensuous. In four bites she’d be ready to throw the dinner out the loft window and forget about food.

He put a piece of cheddar cheese in her mouth and licked her lips.

She moaned.

“Good cheese?” He grinned.

“Damn fine cheese,” she said when she’d swallowed.

“Ham?”

She nodded.

He fed her the ham and while she chewed he brushed her hair away from her neck and planted long, slow, lingering kisses from shoulder to cheek without ever touching her lips.

She picked up a piece of cheese and he shook his head. With a grin she touched his lips with it and he opened his mouth. She pulled it back and kissed him before she let him have the nugget.

He grabbed her wrist and kissed her fingertips.

While he chewed he reached around to a crystal punch bowl filled with ice and six bottles of beer. He popped the top off one and held it up to her lips. She took a sip, amazed that it tasted so good after cheese. Then he drank from the same bottle and sat it on the table.

He picked up her hand and looked into her eyes. “You are lovely with the moonlight on your hair.”

She inhaled sharply when his thumb grazed her palm ever so gently, back and forth like butterfly wings. Her toes curled inside her boots as he fed her bites of fruit, kissed her lips, her fingers, and her neck in between bites. The rest of her body encased in clothes and a denim coat begged to be released so he could spend time with them.

And then he stopped and pointed. “There it is, darlin’.”

“What?”

Lord, she didn’t know whether to expect dancing elephants or real fairies sprinkling shiny dust on the whole barn. What she looked out the loft door and saw was the most beautiful sunset she’d ever seen. Wil’s ranch was located on a stretch of flat land that stretched from the barn to the end of the world. And right there close to where the Pacific Ocean should be a big orange ball was falling slowly like the globe on the New Year’s countdown in New York City.

“Oh, my!” she whispered. “It’s so awesome.”

He put an arm around her shoulders and drew her tightly against his side. “It is, isn’t it? I love the sunrises and sunsets.” He stopped himself before he said, “almost as much as I love you.” It was too early to tell her that. He had a lot of courting to do before he could say the words.

There wasn’t a steak dinner or a movie in the whole world as wonderful and sensual as what Pearl shared that evening on the Bar M Ranch with Wil Marshall.

She didn’t know how long it took from beginning to end; five minutes or eternity. It didn’t matter. She rested her head on his shoulder and he buried his cheek in her hair, but other than that neither of them moved or said a word.

When twilight ended and darkness set in he tipped her chin back and kissed her. In that moment she fully trusted Wil with her heart and soul.

He very slowly removed her coat, boots, shirt, and jeans, then picked up a soft fluffy blanket and wrapped her in it when she shivered. His hands moved under the warmth of the blanket and took off her socks, underpants, and bra.

“My turn.” She shivered.

“No, darlin’, tonight is about you. You’d get cold if you came out from under the covers.” He quickly removed his shirt, boots, jeans, and socks. She gasped when she saw that he wasn’t wearing underwear and that he was fully ready to make love to her.

He set the food table to one side and quickly pulled the blanket off her before lying down beside her on the quilt, and then he wrapped the blanket around both of them so quickly that she didn’t have time to chill.

She snuggled up next to his warm body and ran her hands over his rock hard muscles. His hands roamed over her body while kisses covered her mouth, neck, and eyelids. It might be crazy but she let go of every fear as he stretched out on top of her and made sweet love to her like no one had ever done before. Not even the wild night in the motel after the shot challenge or the one in Wichita Falls after bowling was as sensual as making love with candles glowing all around them and the stars glittering like diamonds in the sky above them.

When they both reached the top at the same time and he groaned “Red!” in that deep Texas drawl, she wanted to scream from the top of the clouds that she was in love with Wil Marshall. But that was crazy as hell. She’d known him less than a month.

It was eleven o’clock when she awoke. He was propped up beside her on his elbow, a grin on his face. He reached over his head and picked up a wedge of mango and put it in her mouth.

“You are lovely when you sleep. I wanted to kiss every single freckle, but I didn’t want to wake you. Warm enough?”

“Still pretty damn hot,” she said.

He bent down and brushed a soft kiss across her lips. “I can put that fire out.”

“I bet you can,” she said as she wrapped her arms around his neck and rolled over on top of him.

He pulled the blanket up over them and rubbed her back.

She gasped. “That’s making it hotter. Not putting it out.”

“That’s the plan, sweetheart.”

She was antsy all day while she and Lucy cleaned rooms. She’d made it home at two o’clock in the morning, slept four hours, and was wide awake, ready to check guests out and clean rooms. She was humming when Lucy opened the lobby door and came in out of the cold.

“So where did you go last night? Was it all fancy, with candles?” Lucy asked.

“It had candles.” Pearl giggled and told her that they’d eaten at the farm, up in a hayloft.

Lucy looked disappointed.

But Pearl couldn’t even tell Lucy about it. Words could tell a story. Words could talk about emotions. Words could not describe what had happened the night before.

She had the phone in her hand to call him when it rang in the middle of the afternoon.

“Hello, great minds must think alike. I was about to call you,” she said.

“I meant to call before now but the battery was dead on my cell phone and I’ve been in the field all day. Can I pick you up and we can grab some fast food at Sonic?”

After the enchanting night before, Sonic sounded like slumming.

“Do you have to be somewhere or doing something afterwards?” Pearl asked.

“No, what do you have in mind?”

“Interested in Italian? I’ve got leftover lasagna. It’s not homemade. It’s one of those frozen things but there’s plenty for both of us.”

“What time?”

“Six, and wear—”

“A toga.” He laughed.

“I was thinkin’ far less,” she teased.

“You’re going to kill me graveyard dead, Red.”

“Don’t die before supper or I’ll have to find another cowboy to eat all the leftovers.”

He knocked at five minutes until six. When she opened the door he handed her half a dozen red roses wrapped in tissue paper and kissed her hard as he kicked the door shut with his boot heel.

“They are beautiful. I’ll get a vase and put them in water,” she muttered between kisses.

“Not as beautiful as you are.”

“Flattery will get you—”

“Darlin’, that’s fact, not flattery,” he said.

He released her reluctantly with one more kiss and followed her to the kitchen. “This place smells wonderful. What can I do to help?”

“Stay out of my kitchen,” she said.

“Wow! We’re too much alike.” He removed his jacket and hung it over the back of a kitchen chair.

The table was set with heavy off-white stoneware; the stainless flatware was good quality but simple; and the napkins looked big and soft. She lit three tapered red candles in mismatched brass holders clumped together in the middle of the table. She pulled a bottle of red wine from an ice bucket, poured two glasses, and set them beside the plates. The timer on the oven dinged and she removed a foil pan half full of lasagna that she had grated fresh cheese on top of. She set it on the table. Then she pulled two bowls of chilled salad from the fridge and set one at each plate.

He circled her waist with a big hand and pulled her to him. She wore jeans, a plain green knit shirt, her hair was up in a ponytail, and the bibbed apron had red stains on it. And she’d never looked lovelier to him.

“I really like lasagna,” he said.

“I’m not surprised. You make love like an Italian man. So you must love that kind of food.” She giggled. “Let’s eat while we can. I might be interrupted by customers.”

He raised an eyebrow as he took his place at the table.

She removed her apron and sat down beside him. “I’m watching the front desk. Salad already has dressing on it. I make my own Italian.”

He put a forkful of salad into his mouth. “Got any customers yet?”

“Six rooms are full. All older folk so maybe they’ll be happy and won’t call.”

“Damn, this is good. You can cook for me anytime you want, Red.”

She smiled and passed him the bread sticks.

He took one and bit the end off, rolled his eyes, and looked at her with a new respect. “Did you make these from scratch?”

“Sure I did.” She laughed. “Aunt Kate taught me to make them. You buy this frozen dough at the grocery store, lay it out on a cookie sheet, sprinkle some garlic salt on it, and brush it with butter. Then viola! Bread sticks.”

“What else did she teach you?”

“To play poker.”

He laughed. “I’m not ever playing with you.”

They finished and were washing dishes side-by-side when she heard someone in the lobby. She eased out the door and rented two rooms to a family of eight: grandparents, parents, and four small children. When she gave them their keys and slipped back into her apartment, the dishes were done and Wil was dozing on the sofa. She sat down in a rocking chair and watched him for half an hour until the bell on the lobby door rang again. She rented one room to a couple who couldn’t keep their hands off each other. The man signed the card as Mr. and Mrs. Franklin Jones. She wondered if she ran the tags on the brand new Cadillac if she’d find that wasn’t the right name.

Wil roused when she went back to the apartment. “Got anymore of that wine? That had to be Granny Lanier’s watermelon wine.”

She poured two more glasses and carried them to the sofa. He pulled her down in his lap, clinked glasses with hers, and said, “To us.”

“To us,” she whispered.

He tossed back the wine like he’d done the whiskey on New Year’s Eve and set the glass down on an end table and slowly began to slip Pearl’s shirt up over her head. The lobby bell rang and she jumped up.

“Dammit!” he swore. He should steal her away to the ranch and take her to the hayloft. No one disturbed them up there.

“Good evening,” Pearl said.

“Hi there. I’m Mrs. Franklin Burbanks and that’s my Caddy out there. My husband is staying in your motel tonight. I just wanted you to know that I’m driving my car out of here. I’m not stealing it. In the morning when he comes in here screaming that his car has been stolen, please give him this.” She handed a manila envelope to Pearl.

“Yes, ma’am,” Pearl said.

The woman walked outside, said something to a lady in another vehicle, and unlocked the Caddy door with a remote device. She drove it out of the lot and Pearl laid the envelope on the desk.

“That’s enough for one night,” Pearl said. She put the neon cowboy to bed for the night and turned on the NO VACANCY lights.

“One got caught,” she said as she settled herself into Wil’s lap.

“What?”

She told him the story and asked, “Would you ever do that?”

“Hell, no! To begin with I’m not a cheater. When I’m in a relationship it’s one hundred percent. When I want out I’m up-front and honest.” He wrapped his arms around her.

He yawned and leaned his head back on the sofa. “You’ve worn me out, Red.”

She laughed and snuggled up beside him.

He traced the outline of her lips with his fingertip. “Don’t freak out, Red, but Momma wants to meet you so she’s having a little Sunday dinner for the family this weekend. My sisters and their families will be there. Not a big crowd but they all think you saved my life and want to thank you.”

“I
did
alibi you out of a murder charge,” she told him.