Texas Kissing (25 page)

“Seriously,” I growled, licking my lips. “What are the chances of us sneaking you out of here in that thing?”

She tossed her hair. “Sir,” she drawled. “Unless you got five dollars or a good bottle o’ suppin’ whiskey, I’m afraid you’ll be lonesome tonight.” She looked at my outfit and blinked. “That’s
it?”
she asked in her normal voice. “I get my ribcage crushed and you just have to put on a shirt and pants? I was expecting chaps, at least.”

“It needs the hat,” I said, and made a show of putting on my chosen hat.

She just stared at me, unimpressed.

“It’s
white,”
I explained. “Because I’m the sheriff.” She still looked blank. “My normal one’s
black.
This makes me a good guy.” I knitted my fingers with hers. “Come to save the fallen woman from her life of ill repute.”

She stared at me strangely for a long time. “It suits you,” she said at last.

We strolled outside and had to wait our turn while another couple had their photo taken.

“So you’re the sheriff,” she mused. “And you’ve married me.”

“Arrested you,” I corrected. I ran a finger under her chin. “You’ve been a
bad
girl.”

“Arrested me
then
married me,” she countered.

I thought about it and nodded. Meanwhile, Lily seemed to be slipping off into her own little world. “And now we live in a little house just outside town, by a river…”

I narrowed my eyes. “You’ve really thought about this.”

She reddened and coughed. “No. Hey, we should think up names.”

“Names?”

“You know. For…” she indicated her outfits. “Us.”

“Lily’s a pretty good name for a saloon girl, you ask me.”

Her eyes got that faraway look again. “Mary. I like Mary.”

I nodded. “Okay. Good, solid, country name. Mary.” I looked down at myself. “I could be Cletus.”

Lily let out a snort. “
Cletus?
Oh, come on. Who’s called Cletus?”

I blinked at her, then lowered my eyes.

She put a hand to her mouth. “Oh my God. Your real name is Cletus, isn’t it?”

“No,” I said, looking off into the distance.

“Oh God, it is, isn’t it? I’m so stupid.
Cletus
. There’s nothing wrong with Cletus. I
like
Cletus.”

I just stood there stoically.

“Bull—Cletus. I’m really sorry.”

I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I erupted into laughter, doubling over.

“Oh, you
bastard!”
She looked around for something to hit me with. “You...
Argh!”

I pulled her close and hugged her, still quaking with laughter. “Your
face
,” I told her. “I wish I could have kept it going. You were so damn guilt-ridden. You would have agreed to
anything,
in bed tonight.”

Lily drew back and stared at me, shocked. Then she gave me a tiny smirk and muttered, “Not
anything.”

God, I loved this girl.

We took our turn in front of the camera and for a while we couldn’t keep a straight face. But at last, we found a pose that worked: me standing behind her with my hands around her waist. I looked solemnly into the camera, the sheriff who’s caught his quarry, and Lily gazed into the lens with a sort of pride. As if being caught was exactly what she’d wanted.

We waited while the guy printed out the photo. He seemed surprised when we turned down the offer of an emailed copy—he said we were
a real sweet couple.
But Lily insisted. I pocketed the printed copy and told her I’d get it framed.

“So what
is
your real name?” she asked, when we were back in our street clothes.

“Bull
is
my real name.”

“No, but really.”

I just looked at her. Eventually, she shook her head. “I’ll get it out of you eventually,” she said.

Lily

When we’d eaten our fill of food-on-a-stick, Bull drove us home. I felt like even more of a country girl, being driven around in a pickup.

When we reached a junction, he stopped. I looked at him quizzically.

“Your place?” he asked. “Or...”

I could see the concern in his eyes. After all the times I’d run out on him, he was worried that I was going to get cold feet again.

“Your place,” I said firmly. “I only have a single bed.” And I smiled at him, he smiled back at me and then we just sat there grinning at each other like idiots until someone pulled up behind us and honked their horn.

Bull’s place turned out to be an old, aluminum caravan a half-size Airstream, parked on an overgrown patch out near the ranch. It seemed impossible that someone his size could fit into it, let alone live there, but I soon discovered his trick—everything important happened outside. There was a table for eating, a mirror nailed to a tree for shaving and—

“That is
not
for real,” I told him.

“It is.”

“It is
not.”

It was an old copper bath, the kind with a raised back that lets you sit up in it.

“Let me get a fire going,” he said, “and I’ll show you.”

And, when he’d boiled a few huge pans of water, he did.

Stripping off in front of him made me a little antsy, because of my size. It had been easier when it was sex, because the heat of the moment had stopped me thinking too much. Now, all I could think about was how much of me there was. But it was getting dark, which helped, and I did it quickly and then slid into the security of the water. Bull sat behind me, with me between his thighs and his arms around me, and I cuddled in as we watched the stars come out. Between the hot water and the hard press of his muscles against my back, it was just about the most relaxed I’d ever been.

And then I felt his cock hardening against my ass. And I became very aware of his strong arms, wrapped around me not so very far from my breasts. And suddenly, the heat of the water paled next to the heat throbbing through me. I resisted for a good few minutes, drinking in the feel of his hard body against me, but eventually I couldn’t take it any longer.

I twisted around in the tub and pushed myself up against him, my glistening breasts pillowing against his chest. My head tilted up, seeking his mouth.

“Well, hell,” he said in delight. “Now ain’t you eager tonight?” And he leaned down to kiss me, tipping his hat back out of the way.

Yeah, he kept his hat on in the bath. This was
Bull.

I let out a long groan as his lips met mine. I needed him so much. It was the first time I’d been the one to initiate things and it felt fantastic.

We gasped and groaned as we kissed, kneeling up in the water and running our hands up and down each other’s gleaming wet bodies, the steam wrapping around us. When we couldn’t take it anymore, he lifted me out of the bath and laid me down on the grass next to the tub and entered me with such slow, tender care I wanted to weep with joy. It became fast and then frantic, his muscled ass rising and falling between my thighs, the stars above us and the cool grass below as our bodies cooled and then warmed again.

I came, arching my back and thrusting my breasts up as he bent to kiss them. And in the afterglow, I hugged him tight. I finally felt that things were all going to be okay.

I was wrong.

Down in the town, the photographer from the fair was getting a call from the state newspaper.
We’re running a piece about the town fair, but our editor just nixed the picture we were going to use. Says he doesn’t want another goddamn greased pig this year. Do you have anything we can use?

Why, yes, I surely do. Got a lovely photo of a sweet young couple, her in a scarlet dress, and him in a sheriff’s uniform. And the guy’s a minor celebrity around these parts, too, a rodeo rider.

Well, that sounds just perfect. Please email it right over. We go to press in an hour.

Lily

For three days, I lived an idyllic life with Bull. I’d wake up each morning in his tiny trailer and we’d have slow, sensual morning sex. He’d go off to the ranch to work and I’d drive my Toyota to the bus so that I could work. It was weird—the work wasn’t any different to before but now I practically whistled to myself as I did it. It was the knowledge that this wasn’t all there was in my life.

And when I did step out of the air-conditioned cool of the bus, the sun felt good. The heat felt good. I let it soak into my bones instead of fighting it. I’d finally acclimatized to Texas.

In the evening, we’d venture into town...or, more often, just cozy up in Bull’s trailer. Long summer evenings filled with good food: steaks cooked outdoors, sticky ribs you ate with your fingers, corn that was perfectly barbequed and dripping with butter.

And the sex. Oh, God, the sex. Up against the wall of the trailer. Bent over Bull’s bed. Twice, in the stables again (I don’t know what it is, there’s just something about stables). I’d fall into bed pleasantly exhausted with Bull spooning me from behind.

We were
disgustingly
happy. And the nagging voices in my head, the ones that said it was wrong to keep my past from him, seemed very small and far away. How could it be wrong, when it felt this good?

Besides, I found out lots of other things about him. I found out that he liked his coffee not strong and black but milky as all hell. I found out that his dad was in oil and that he was considered the family misfit because he’d wound up riding horses. His brother, who
had
followed in his dad’s footsteps, was seriously rich.

So we
were
getting to know each other...even if it was a little one-way. He didn’t need to know about my uncle.

Right?

Lily

The next morning, Bull had to pick up rope for the ranch from the hardware store, so we figured we might as well grab a coffee in town. We took both cars so that I’d be able to head back to the bus when we’d finished, and I bought the coffees while he bought the rope.