One Hot Cowboy Wedding (21 page)

“I’m ready,” she said.

She couldn’t get out of the dress and into her khaki shorts, sandals, and red T- shirt fast enough. Debra was still getting the dress back on the hanger when Jasmine thanked her for her time and escaped out the door to a faster and more upbeat version of “Here Comes the Bride.”

“Redneck Woman” started playing in her purse and Ace chuckled.

“What’s so funny?”

“From fancy to trashy all in two minutes,” he said.

“Don’t let Pearl hear you say that. It’s her ring tone,” she said as she fished the phone from her purse and answered it.

“Did you get it yet?” Pearl asked.

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“Tried on several and didn’t fall in love with any of them,” she answered.

“I’m so sorry I can’t be there. You helped me pick out mine.”

“Yeah, some friend you are! I helped you and then you go and have babies before me and I have to listen to Momma whine about both your wedding and your babies,” Jasmine said.

“Oh, hush! I was being nice. Is Lucy with you?”

“No, Ace is.”

Pearl gasped. “You know he’s not supposed to see the dress.”

“I don’t think that mat ers since he’s already seen one dress,” Jasmine argued.

“This is so damn bizarre. Not even a soap opera would write it into their script,” Pearl said.

“You got it, sister!”

“I’m remembering how much fun we had the day we shopped for my dress. We picked it out in half an hour and spent the rest of the day in the Western wear stores, remember?” Pearl’s tone was wistful.

“Yes, because you wanted those fancy boots to go with your dress. What shop was that? I might need some to go with my dress if I ever find it,” Jasmine said.

“Have you opened Kel y’s email? She sent al of us bridesmaids the dresses she picked out. She did a wonderful job. You’ve got to see them. Open your mail and call me back. Could be that you don’t have to shop anymore today,” Pearl said.

“Honey, I’d wear a burlap bag and carry ragweed if I didn’t have to try on another dress. I’ll call you tonight with an update.”

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A few minutes later Jasmine stopped in her tracks and gasped and said, “Holy shit!”

“What?” Ace asked.

“Sorry. Momma sent the bridesmaid’s dresses and they are pretty,” she said.

She sat down on a bench in front of a shop with

“Kiddie Land” written on the front window and opened the second email from Kelly. She had to scramble to catch the phone as it dropped at the same time her jaw did. Her mother’s backup dress was elegant.

It looked like something a Grecian goddess might wear with a high waistline, spaghetti straps, and a skirt that flowed from the waist in soft pleats into a very short train at the back. The description said it was made of satin and chiffon, and the straps were rhinestone crystals.

Kelly’s note said
: No veil. Just a magnolia blossom
on one side with your hair pulled back behind your ear.

No high heels. Very skimpy flat sandals of white kid
leather that lace up around your ankles.

Ace sat down beside her and reached for the phone.

“Let me see.”

“No, it’s bad luck for the groom even if he is the husband to see the dress, and this is the one. No more shopping today,” she said.

“Look at me, Jazzy,” he said.

She looked up.

He smiled.

“Yep, that’s the one. Your eyes look right. Call your momma and tel her she’s the queen of shopping today.” She pushed a speed dial button and winked at Ace while she waited.

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“Hello, Momma, I just found the perfect wedding dress.”

The pause was so long that Ace cocked his head to one side and raised an eyebrow in question.

Jasmine held up a finger.

“But Momma it’s perfect.”

Another wait.

“Okay, okay, Momma. I found the dress on my phone. It’s the backup dress. I love it. I was just teasing you. Yes, ma’am. Size six and you can use my dress from Pearl’s wedding for the hem. It’s stil hanging in my bedroom closet. I know we don’t have time for a fit ing or two. But that one is hanging in the closet at your house and it was the perfect length with flat- soled shoes. And I like the idea of the hair thing and the shoes.

I was thinking white cowboy boots.”

The phone went dead.

“What?” Ace asked.

“She hung up on me when I mentioned the boots,” Jasmine said.

“I’m glad I never had sisters.”

“Why?”

“My mother would be in jail for murder if my sister was like you.”

“Is that a warning? Do your sisters- in- law walk on eggshells?”

“Just be glad when they were passing out baby girls in Texas that they gave you to Kelly King and not Dolly Riley.”

It was hotter inside the truck than it was outside.

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of danger, proving it was even too hot to fly. The cab hadn’t even cooled down when Ace pulled into the Starbucks parking lot. Jasmine hopped out and pointed to an advertisement poster picturing a mocha smoothie and a sandwich in the window.

“I want that,” she said.

Ace held the door for her. “I figured you’d want black coffee.”

“Too damn hot for trying on wedding dresses or for drinking hot coffee, and I’m hungry.”

And
sitting
in
close
quarters
with
you
fighting
the
urge
to
kiss
you
whenever
you
hold
the
door
and
I
catch
a
whiff
of
your
shaving
lotion, which is sexy as hell. And
the way your hand burns an imprint on my back. It’s too
damn hot for all of it, Ace Riley!

Other than one old fellow wearing faded overalls and a chambray shirt, they were the only customers in the place. When the order was filled, Ace carried the tray to a corner table. The old fellow raised his coffee cup and nodded at them.

“Afternoon,” Ace said.

“Hot one, ain’t it?”

“July and August ain’t even here yet. It’ll get hotter,” Ace answered.

“And September. Lord, used to be it started to cool down in September, but these days it’s just as hot as August. Back when I was a boy, we was butcherin’ hogs come November first. Nowadays, kids is playin’ football in their short- sleeved shirts on Thanksgiving day,” the old fellow said.

“Then winter hits us in February,” Ace agreed.

Jasmine sipped at the icy smoothie.

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“Good!” she muttered.

“I shoulda got me one of those things, but I sure do have a cravin’ sometimes for their coffee. Reminds me of the time we was runnin’ some cattle from here up through Randlett to the sale. It was back when I was a kid during depression times and my grandpa brewed up coffee in a pot right over the stove. He’d put in a cup of grounds and fill up the pot, then when it was boiled down to about half full, he’d taste it. Sometimes it had to boil another half an hour, but most of the time he gauged it about right. I miss that good strong flavor, but this place has got it down pretty good. And I miss a real cup instead of these paper things. A man can’t wrap his hands around a paper cup and get warm in the winter like they can a real coffee cup. But it does taste mighty good. I asked the girl back there if they had a fire going out in back of the store. She looked at me like I was a crazy man. Decided I’d best not go on or she’d be callin’

them boys up to haul me off.” He winked at Ace.

“My grandpa liked his coffee strong enough to blister paint off the side of a house,” Ace said. “He used to call it murdered water if it didn’t melt the silver off a spoon when he stirred it.”

“Good man, your grandpa. They don’t make them like that no more. Well, I’d best get on home. I told Momma I was goin’ to town to buy feed and I’d be home in time for supper. I reckon she’s just about got the biscuits ready.” He grinned. “Us old cowboys is a dyin’ breed. All this newfangled world is too fancy for us. Coffee with names like latte and capa- whatevers. It’s more than our old brains can take.” He threw his cup in the trash and waved as he left.

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Ace watched out the window until he was gone. “He reminded me of my grandpa.”

“Was your grandpa that size?”

“Oh, no, he was tall and lanky. Blond hair like mine with the same color eyes I’ve got. Granny was the short little part Mexican lady. She was pretty round when she died, but I don’t think Grandpa ever saw her as anything but the exotic girl he fell in love with.” Ace sipped at his cup of dark roast coffee.

“Did he call her ‘Momma’?” Jasmine asked.

“Oh, yeah.”

“Don’t you ever call me that.”

“Why?”

“I’m not your momma. I have a name.”

“Don’t think we’ll ever have that problem, Jazzy.

Old folks didn’t call their wives Momma until the kids came along. It happens when they start sayin’ things like, ‘Go on in there and Momma will fix that scrape on your elbow,’ or ‘Momma is fryin’ chicken for supper so you better not have another cookie right now.’ Since we ain’t really married and since we ain’t really goin’ to have kids then we don’t have anything to worry about, do we?”

Please
say
there’s a possibility that you’ll change
your mind about a divorce. Shit! Where did that come
from? I don’t want to be married, ever
, he thought.

“Guess you are right,” she said.

Evidently, that barbed wire around your arm is
for real. You don’t want a woman in your life no
matter what.

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would you like to do the rest of the day? Take in a movie and then have dinner?”

How
about
we
check
into
a
motel? Maybe order a
pizza delivered when we’re ravenous from too much sex
, she thought.

“Let’s go visiting.”

Ace raised an eyebrow.

“I want to go check on Pearl and talk wedding with her. Then I’d like to go see Liz and show her the dresses Momma picked out. If Liz is still exercising horses, I might catch a ride. And then we’d better get on home to make sure Lucy isn’t feeling too abandoned on her first day at the ranch.”

Ace cocked his head to one side. “Okay, but now that I think of it, why isn’t Lucy shopping with you instead of me?”

“Lucy spent the morning getting her recipes ready for the week and doing grocery shopping this afternoon in Bowie. She’s very organized. She stopped by the café on her way to the store and asked me to buy a hundred- pound bag of potatoes and a few other things from my produce man. That way she’ll get them at a better price. Tomorrow she and Delilah will sleep in and in the afternoon she’ll have her meeting in Henrietta and stop by to see Pearl on the way home,” Jasmine explained.

“Wow!”

“I told you she’d be an asset to the ranch. You won’t be sorry a day that you hired her. She’ll have things runnin’ smooth as…” She grinned.

“As silk?” Ace finished for her.

“As a baby’s butt.” Jasmine giggled.

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“But what about working around all the men folks? Is that going to stress her out?”

“I hope not. That’s the only thing I worry about and why I don’t want to leave her all alone tonight. So visiting for half an hour at each place and then home?” she asked.

She’d said it again:
home!

His heart swelled and he fairly well strutted out the door with his hand thrown around her shoulders.

Make
up
your
mind, cowboy. Do you want to be married or not? To Jasmine or not?

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Lucy’s hands were on her hips and her stance said that Blake and Dalton were in deep shit. The sports channel was broadcasting a golf game behind her, but she didn’t give a damn. Right then she was about to call down the wrath of God upon those two worthless cowboys if one of them didn’t own up to his thievery.

Jasmine and Ace walked in on the scenario and stopped in their tracks just inside the living room door.

“What in the hell is going on in this place?” Jasmine asked.

Lucy shot daggers across the room at the two brothers. “One of them is a thief and whoever stole it is going to make a trip into town before next Friday night.” Blake and Dalton looked like two little boys who’d gotten caught with their fingers in the cookie jar.

Ace could barely contain his laughter. “What did they steal?”

Lucy pointed at the coffee table where two empty cans of Vienna sausage sat along with beer cans and half a bag of pretzels. “Right there is the evidence. I wouldn’t make an accusation without proof.”

“But we didn’t know they were yours. Everything in the house has always been community property,” Dalton said.

“Yeah! And get away from the front of the television, Lucy,” Blake said.

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Lucy glared at him. “Stealing from Delilah and boss-ing me too. Boy, that ain’t going to happen.”

“Don’t call me boy,” Blake said.