Dylan (29 page)

Must
have
been
the
vision
of
Mrs. Peterson in the peekaboo lace. Now go and get that woman!

His grandfather was on his side and pulling for him, and his brothers were on their way. It was time to go after Ronnie.

When he opened the door, the sheriff was pulling away from the curb with the red light flashing and the siren wailing. “There're not enough people breaking the law around here,” he grumbled opening the driver's side door to his truck and sliding on the seat. “Sheriff should be out trying to catch the sonsofbitches who destroyed Guilty Pleasures… not arresting the store's owner.”

Before he could put his truck in reverse, the passenger door opened and Mavis Beeton got inside. “Well don't just sit there,” she said. “Follow that car!”

He grinned at her, absurdly grateful that she was with him. “What are we going to do?” he asked, putting the pedal to the metal. His truck lurched away from the curb and ground through the gears as it gained speed.

When he would have turned left, Mavis grabbed his arm. “Turn right; you need to drive to my house.”

“Not now! I've got to get to Ronnie.”

She smiled at him. “Not without the ammunition you need,” she told him.

“I can't think straight right now, Mrs. Beeton, not until I can see her and explain…”

“Explain?” Mavis prompted.

“Why I didn't do anything back there,” Dylan ground out.

“Why didn't you?”

He shook his head. “I don't know; must have been the fashion show.”

Mavis chuckled but quickly covered the sound by clearing her throat. “Well then, are you ready to act now?”

He didn't hesitate. “Yes, ma'am.”

“Willing to set her free at any cost?”

“Yes,” he rasped. “Just tell me what to do.”

“I've been studying our town's history—”

He cut her off. “No offense, Mrs. Beeton—”

“None taken, Dylan,” she reassured him. “Now do me a favor and shut up.”

Shock had him closing his mouth. She continued, “We have a few laws that have been on the books for over one hundred years.”

He clenched his jaw tighter but continued to drive to her house instead of where he wanted to be—needed to be—the jail.

“One, in fact, that set your great-great-grandfather free.”

Dylan shifted his gaze from the road ahead to her face. “I'm listening.”

“Finally,” she said. “Mine is the third house on the left.”

He pulled up and put it park but didn't kill the engine. “Time's a wasting. Keep talking.”

“The Donovan Marriage Ordinance clearly states that as long as the crime isn't cold-blooded murder, a woman—or man—could have the prisoner released into their custody.”

“Just like that?”

“Not quite,” Mavis said, opening her front door.

Dylan wanted to yell in frustration but kept a lid on his temper and followed along behind her.

She didn't waste any time or steps; she walked into her kitchen, grabbed a ragged ledger book, and grinned. “Let's go get your bride.”

That stopped him in his tracks. “My what?”

Mavis didn't laugh at him, but he wondered if she was thinking about it, noticing the way her lips were twitching.

“We have a few more minutes. Sheriff McClure might be angry right now, after the way your bride whacked him in the back of the head with that sex-toy catalog.”

“Why do you keep calling Ronnie my bride?”

“Sit down, Dylan.”

“I've got to get to the jail before she closes herself off from me completely. You saw the look on her face; she thinks I'm not coming after her.”

Mavis patted his arm and urged him to sit. “If you go there now, what are you going to do? Browbeat the sheriff into letting her go?”

Dylan stopped and thought about it. “Maybe.”

“Think, Dylan,” she urged. “You need a bona fide reason for the sheriff to release Ronnie.”

“My fists might be enough—”

She shook her head at him. “Then you'd be right there in the hoosegow with your bride.”

“Why do you keep calling her that?”

She opened the ledger and tapped the first page. “Here is the list of Pleasure's early laws.”

He ground his teeth in frustration but didn't say anything; he was afraid of what he might say, and Mrs. Beeton was only trying to help.

She flipped through to another section. “And here's where they record the list of prisoners and their crimes.” When he didn't speak, she added, “And the dates they were released.”

He pushed to his feet; Mavis grabbed his arm. “August 4, 1912, was the first time the Donovan Marriage Ordinance was invoked.”

Dylan turned slowly and stared down at the older woman. “The fourth of August?”

She nodded and grinned. “1912.” She waited and patted him on the arm. “Does the date ring a bell?”

“Yeah, but I'm not sure why.”

Mavis pointed at the ledger, halfway down the page. “It says right here that one of the prisoners, Judson Garahan, was released into the custody of a Miss Deidre Flaherty on August 4, 1912.”

Dylan sat down hard. “That's my—”

“Great-great-grandfather's name,” she said. “I know. Judson was released as soon as he said ‘I do.'”

“I do?”

Mavis frowned up at him. “What part of ‘Marriage Ordinance' didn't you hear?”

The light went on inside Dylan's head. “He married her to get out of jail?”

Mavis nodded. “Are you willing to marry Ronnie in order to set her free?”

He set his jaw and slowly rose from his seat. “I meant what I said. I'd do anything to get her out of there.”

The older woman was smiling as she pulled Dylan toward the front door. “Let's see if we can get the sheriff to listen to reason, now that you have some leverage.”

On their way outside, a car pulled up behind his truck. Emily got out of the passenger's side saying, “Tyler said they'll meet you outside the jail… and to wait for them!”

“It's a forty-five minute drive from the Circle G to town.”

Emily shook her head at him. “They're already on their way and will be here in ten minutes.”

“How—” he said before it hit him. “Jesse's driving.”

She nodded. “Come on. Jolene's driving and the ladies are all meeting us at the jail.”

He didn't even pause to wonder why; he opened the door for Mrs. Beeton and felt an immense sense of relief filling him seeing the ledger on her lap. “Will he let her go?”

Mrs. Beeton answered his question with a question, “Will you marry her?”

His heart leaped in his chest. “Yes.”

She patted his hand. “Then, yes. He'll have no choice but to release her.”

“May I borrow your phone, Dylan?”

He handed her his cell and focused all of his attention on getting to the jail in record time. A few minutes later, she handed him back his phone. He pulled up outside the jail and was surprised to see the number of cars parked and women waiting.

“'Bout time you got here,” Gwen grumbled.

Dylan didn't even acknowledge her comment; he beat Mrs. Beeton to the door and held it open for her. “Mrs. Beeton—”

“You can thank me later. Wait for your brothers. That'll give me time to soothe the sheriff's ruffled feathers.”

“I don't give a damn about McClure.”

“Which is exactly why you'll give me a few minutes while you wait for your brothers.” Her tone didn't brook any arguments.

When he tried to follow her, she reminded him, “They'll be here in a minute or two. A united front will impress the local law. Please wait for them.”

He stepped back and turned around, surprised by the group of women that nodded as they filed into the building behind Mrs. Beeton.

The screeching of tires and spitting of gravel had him turning toward the street. His brothers were calm, cool, and just this side of arrogant as they strode toward him. Familial pride filled him. “I didn't know what else to do—” he began.

“I hear Mrs. Beeton's got a surefire way to get the sheriff to release her,” Jesse said.

“Is it true?” Tyler asked, his eyes brimming with laughter. “Was she having a lingerie party and did she really whack the sheriff?”

Dylan shook his head. “Look, we'll talk later,” he said. “There's a woman inside who thinks I've abandoned her and lied when I told her I loved her.”

Jesse stopped in his tracks. “You actually said the words?”

Dylan grabbed Jesse's left arm while Tyler grabbed Jesse's right, pulling the youngest Garahan toward the door. “Yeah,” Dylan ground out. “Let's finish what we've started. It's time for the Garahans to save the day.” He looked at Tyler and grinned. “Again.”

Tyler nodded. “One of us falls,” he rasped, “and the other two will be right there to pull him back up.”

Faith renewed, determination filling him, Dylan stormed into the jail, ready to tear ass and take names.

Ronnie dug deep for strength as the sheriff instructed his deputy to fingerprint the criminal—her!

She'd never have believed this could ever happen to her. She never broke the law, always drove within the speed limit, never double-parked or jaywalked.

“Ms. DelVecchio, I need your right hand first.”

She tried to pay attention, but her mind kept returning to that awful moment when Dylan stepped aside and let the sheriff haul her off to jail.
How
could
he?
She'd never let Dylan get hauled off to jail without a fight.

“Damn his eyes.”

“Can't you keep the prisoner in line, Deputy?”

“Yes, sir,” he answered before looking down at Ronnie. “I'm going to have to ask you to refrain from using foul language.”

Ronnie's simmering temper reached the boiling point. “Bite me.”

The deputy's eyes widened and his face turned beet red.

Satisfaction took an edge off her anger, but it was short-lived. She heard the scrape of a chair and saw the sheriff rise and walk toward her, but then he stopped in his tracks, stood straighter, and slid his hand to the gun at his hip.

Turning to look in the direction the sheriff had, Ronnie's hand flew to her breast to keep her heart from pounding out of it. Walking toward her was the man she'd thought had abandoned her to her plight.

As he stepped in from the narrow hallway, his brothers stepped alongside, flanking him. Dark-haired, dark-eyed, and glowering, the middle Garahan brother was enough to set her heart aflutter and bring tears of relief to her eyes—that his brothers were there too just added to the feeling.

“I'm here to demand you release Veronica DelVecchio.”

The sheriff didn't miss a beat. “That a fact, Garahan?” Looking from one brother to the next, he asked, “You three planning on starting a brawl in my jail?”

Dylan and his brothers looked at one another and then at Mavis, who still held that battered book she'd brought with her. “That won't be necessary, Sheriff McClure,” she said cheerfully with a nod in Ronnie's direction. “I'd like to bring your attention to the Town of Pleasure's Ordinance Number Five.”

Clearing her throat she looked over her shoulder and called out, “If there are any other people who'd like to act as witnesses, now would be the time to come forward and be counted.”

Ronnie couldn't believe her eyes. Jolene, Emily, Gwen, Natalie, and Jennifer led the way as Lettie and Pam Dawson, and Minnie Harrison walked into the room, followed by every single woman who'd been at the Lucky Star just a short while ago.

“Wait for us!” Shannon and Lenore McKenna bustled into the room. “Sorry we're late; we came as soon as Jolene called.”

The women of the town were there for her, to support her. Surrounded by her contemporaries, she straightened her shoulders and faced the woman who she knew made it all happen. “Mavis—”

Her friend shook her head at her and Ronnie fell silent.

“Now, Sheriff,” Mavis said, “if you'll let me continue.”

The lawman vibrated with anger but managed to nod instead of pulling his gun on the Garahan brothers, which was what Ronnie thought he'd been about to do.

“Any resident of Pleasure, man or woman, has the right to invoke this Ordinance and the law has to release the prisoner into their custody.”

“Let me see that,” McClure ground out, reaching for the ledger.

Mavis handed him the book and moved to stand beside Ronnie. She leaned close and whispered, “Don't say anything until Dylan's had his say.”

“What?”

Mavis patted her on the arm, put a finger to her lips, and moved away.

Dylan nodded to his brothers and stepped forward. “I hereby invoke the Donovan Marriage Ordinance and ask you to release Veronica DelVecchio into my custody.”

He turned toward Ronnie and rasped, “I promise to love her, cleave to her, and keep her out of jail for the rest of our married lives.”

“Marriage Ordinance?” Her head felt light, her thoughts fuzzy, and her body detached. When all eyes turned toward her, she moistened her parched lips with the tip of her tongue and looked at the man who standing in front of her. “You're asking me to marry you?”

Dylan nodded.

“And I'll be free to leave this jail?”

Again, he nodded.

She looked over at the sheriff and asked, “Otherwise I'll have to stay locked up?”

McClure nodded. “You do the crime… you do the time.”

She swallowed against the lump in her throat and faced Dylan. “I thought you were leaving me to twist in the wind.”

He stood straighter and glared down at her. “Not in this lifetime.”

“Well, you didn't say anything in my defense and you let the sheriff cuff me and drag me out of the Lucky Star.”

“Mrs. Peterson's… uh… outfit distracted me. I'm sorry, Ronnie, but there's just some things a man's not ready to see.”

Her lips twitched, but she dug deep fighting the urge to smile. “What about the DelVecchio Curse?”

“I've already told you it would be pure pleasure if you carried my children. I'm partial to twins.”

“A curse? Hey, Bro,” Jesse said, “are any body parts going to fall off?”

“What curse?” Tyler asked.

“Later,” Dylan ground out. “Can't you see I'm busy here?” He pulled Ronnie into his arms. “Well?” he asked. “Will you marry me and start on the next generation of Garahans?”

She looked over at Mavis, who had tears in her eyes, and then back at Dylan. “What if the curse is a dud and I can't have children?”

He lifted her chin with the deft touch of his knuckle. “I need you to marry me, Ronnie,” he rasped. “I love you for your fractiousness and the fact that you would take on the law with the power of your convictions and your stock of lingerie and scented massage oil.”

Ronnie grinned and asked, “Can I ride Wildfire?”

His eyes widened, but instead of answering he covered her mouth with his, lips teasing, tongue tangling. When he ended the kiss, she hugged him tight. “How could an East Coast girl like me resist the awesome power of pure, unadulterated, Texas testosterone?”

“Marry me and come live with me out at the Circle G.”

“Are you sure about this, Ronnie?” Shannon asked.

“Hey,” Jolene called out, “now would be the perfect time to ask him.”

Ronnie shook her head to clear it. “What are you talking about?”

Jolene crossed her arms beneath her breasts and then threw them up in the air and grumbled. “Take Pride in Pleasure Day—the all-male revue…”

Ronnie grinned. Not that she didn't think Dylan meant what he said, but just to prove a point and test Dylan's conviction to marry her, she said, “Since you've agreed to let me ride Wildfire, I have one more request.”

Dylan's eyes swirled with a combination of desire and love. Her heart melted, and for a moment she forgot what she wanted to ask him.

“Ask me anything, darlin',” he rumbled, pressing his lips to her forehead.

“Will you and your brothers be a part of the Lucky Star's all-male revue in the Take Pride in Pleasure Celebration and Rodeo?”

He eased back and glared down at her. For a heartbeat she'd thought she'd gone too far, overestimating how much he loved her or how far he'd go to keep her out of jail.

He let go of her, drew in a deep breath, and crossed his arms over his broad chest. If possible, his glare was more intense and just this side of disconcerting.

Hell, she should never have asked. Wasn't it enough that the man asked her to marry him to keep her out of jail? But no, she had to go one step too far and ask him to parade around on stage with his brothers, shirtless, while women hooted and hollered—

His sigh was loud and long, and for a second, she thought he'd capitulate. Instead, he turned his back on her.

Tears filled her eyes, but she'd be damned if she'd let Dylan Garahan know how badly he'd hurt her. DelVecchios went down fighting!

“Ty, would you and Jesse be willing to help out Jolene and Emily and be a part of their damned all-male revue?”

Tyler started laughing while Jesse started cheering. “Hoowee! I'm gonna call our New York City cousins back and tell them we're in and they should book their tickets now!”

Before Ronnie's mind could process the fact that he was asking his brothers to be a part of something she knew he dreaded doing, Tyler spoke up. “Hell, if you and Jesse are willing to strip down in public—”

“There will be no stripping in public, damn it,” Sheriff McClure roared.

Jolene started laughing. “Don't you worry none, Sheriff,” Jolene drawled. “There will be no stripping—just a lineup of dark-haired, dark-eyed, handsome cowboys dancing on stage in their jeans, chaps, boots, and Stetsons.”

The sheriff glared at her but finally agreed. “SIPs usually lead to FIPs.”

Ronnie tilted her head to one side. “What does SIP and FIP mean?”

Dylan yanked her close and chuckled. “‘Stripping In Public' and ‘Fornicating In Public.'”

She pushed against his shoulders and he eased up his hold on her. “You've got to be kidding.”

He shook his head and drew her back to within kissing range. His lips descended toward hers, but before he could kiss her, Ronnie decided to tempt the man who would be driving her crazy for the rest of their lives. “I know how much you love pecans,” she rasped. “I've got this killer praline recipe.” She leaned closer, blew in his ear and then whispered, “I can warm it up on the stovetop and then drizzle it all over you… then I'll just have to lick it off.”

Dylan's eyes darkened as he cleared his throat and grabbed her hand. “If you'll excuse us—”

“Not so fast, Garahan,” the sheriff rumbled, handing the ledger back to Mavis. “You're not leaving this office until you're married to the prisoner.”

Mavis turned and smiled as a man in long black robes hurried toward them. “I got here as soon as I could, Mrs. Beeton.”

“Thank you, Judge Gambling.”

Standing in front of the couple, the judge nodded. “Now then, if there's no one here who'll object to the marriage of these two fine upstanding citizens—”

“The prisoner was arrested for selling pornographic materials!” a shrill voice called out from behind them.

As one, she and Dylan turned. The president of the Rotary Club stood shoulder to shoulder with president of the Woman's Club. Before Ronnie could tell the women where to get off, Mavis beat her to it.

“Well now, ladies, since you weren't invited to our little gathering earlier, I'll just have to assume, you're feeling a mite left out.” Mavis turned to Ronnie. “Do you have any more flyers left?”

When Ronnie nodded, the blonde opened her mouth to speak, but Mavis kept talking, “After all, Jolene and Emily know how much Janet and Anne Marie look forward to spending time at the Lucky Star—maybe a couple of your toys will keep them off the streets at night.”

“Well,” Anne Marie shrieked. “I never—”

“That's not what I heard,” Pam Dawson said.

The noise level of the room soared as the two women tried to argue with Pleasure's one-woman wrecking crew—Mavis Beeton.

Ignoring the ruckus, the judge continued, “Do you promise to love and honor Veronica from this day forward?”

Dylan pressed his lips to her forehead. “I promise to love, honor, and keep my little filly out of jail for the rest of our married lives.”

Ronnie sputtered, “Filly?”

Dylan cupped her face in his callused hands and rasped. “Fractious, hardheaded, and just plain perfect, you're my little filly, darlin'.” He dipped his head to press his lips to hers. A soft, sweet kiss filled with promise. He slid his hands along the slope of her shoulders, down to the curve of her waist. The heat of his hands, combined with the strength she knew he held in check convinced her she wouldn't regret marrying him.

She felt as light as a cloud. Free and unencumbered by the past, she looped her hands around his neck and felt her heart soaring free. She couldn't wait to call Nonni and share the news.

The judge's next question brought her back to the present. “And do you promise to love and honor Dylan in return?”

Ronnie smiled up at the man holding her close. She touched her fingertips to his cheek, leaving a streak of black ink. She held her laughter inside of her; she'd tell him about the streak later. “I promise to love, honor, and keep all pornographic materials behind closed doors—ours.”

“I now pronounce you man and wife.”

Dylan slid his hands to her back and splayed them at the base of her spine, holding her against him, as he bent his head and sealed their vows with a gentle kiss, a promise from his heart.

Ronnie laid her head on Dylan's chest and sighed. “You're sure you won't too get tired of being tied down to a rabble-rouser from back East?”

Dylan gathered her close and kissed the breath out of her. When he came up for air, he asked, “What part of ‘I love you' didn't you understand, darlin'?”

“Now who's being fractious?”

He laughed and crushed her to him. “Kiss me back, darlin'.”

She tilted her head back and smiled up at him. “With pleasure, darlin', I surely will.” And she did.