The Cowboy's Mail Order Bride (18 page)

“I don’t have to admit it though, do I?”

***

Emily got back to the house right at noon. She’d been to the feed store to drop off a payment, to the bank to make a deposit, to the tractor supply to pick up some more veterinary supplies that they had to unpack and mark up before they’d sell them to her, and had stood in line forever at the Walmart store. To have more than twenty checkout counters and only two checkers was downright sinful. She would have zipped through a self-check counter, but none of them were working.

She hoped that Greg had come in from the back forty at least for dinner so she could see him. It wouldn’t be as good as getting to sneak off to the attic or even snag a couple of kisses in the den when no one was looking, but it would have to do. Until he was ready to announce that they were dating, if that’s what they were doing, she intended to keep silent.

Dating?

Or was it just sex? Which did she want it to be?

“In the dining room. We’re just sitting down to eat,” Dotty called out when Emily entered the house.

“I’ll be right there soon as I wash up,” she yelled back.

She could hear Clarice talking, but something wasn’t right in her tone.

Dotty wasn’t using a single cuss word and Greg sounded strange.

Shit!

The preacher had come to dinner and Emily was wearing her work boots, a chambray shirt, and faded jeans. She quickly ran her fingers through her hair and redid her ponytail. Bocephus came slinking around the corner with Simba right on his tail. Both of them crawled low on the ground and their eyes were wary. Could a preacher get into heaven if cute little kittens were terrified of him?

She stopped long enough to pet the kittens and whisper reassurances in their ears and did not wash her hands afterward. Maybe she’d even touch the preacher’s hot roll instead of passing him the bread basket. Sorry old sucker anyway for scaring her two kittens. Now they were hiding under the kitchen table and peering out around the chair legs.

“You get lost in there?” Max called out.

Even his voice sounded different, and nothing rattled Max.

“On my way,” she said.

Everyone turned to look at her when she entered the room—Clarice, Dotty, Max and Greg, and Taylor.

“Surprise!” Taylor said.

Her breath caught in her chest. Her feet were glued to the floor and she couldn’t move.

“Taylor!” she squealed.

He pushed back his chair and hugged her tightly. “I’m here to surprise you, and I think I just did it.” He led her to the table with his arm around her shoulders.

She was glad that there was a chair nearby and doubly glad that it was right beside Greg instead of across the table from him.

“I’m so tickled to see you but… oh, my Lord, you’ve got bad news?”

Taylor flashed a beautiful smile. “No, darlin’, no bad news. I would have told you right up front if that was the case. I bought a bull a month ago from a breeder in Blue Ridge, remember? I know I told you about it. Blue Ridge is less than half an hour from here, so I came by to see you while I was in the area, and I’m glad I did. A greasy old burger couldn’t measure up to a feast like this one.”

Color returned to her ashen face. “Did you leave Happy in the middle of the night?”

“Drove halfway yesterday. Wanted to pick up the bull, check on you, and get home by midnight. I hate leaving a big old bull on a trailer overnight,” he answered.

Greg laid a hand on her leg and the tension eased out of her body. No one had died. Everything in Happy was fine. Taylor, her favorite boy cousin, was right there at the table with her.

“I know you remember the bull. We looked at his lineage online just before Marvin passed. What surprised me is that he’s tame as a…” Taylor went on, “I was going to say kitten, but I really hate cats. The bull is as gentle as a lamb.”

“Emily has two kittens,” Dotty piped up.

“I know. She told me,” Taylor said.

Emily helped her plate but didn’t pay any attention to the food. “So your plan is to drive all the way to west Texas tonight? Clarice, couldn’t he put the bull in a holding pen and spend the night? That way he could get an early start in the morning.”

“We’ve already invited him,” Clarice said.

“And I do thank all of you for the offer, but after dinner I’ll head back to Happy. I’ve put in longer hours than this lots and lots of times. So have you, Em,” he said.

“I’m willing to lose a little sleep for something I enjoy,” she said.

That got her a leg squeeze under the table.

Talk went to bulls, ranching, and whether or not it would be a good year for the hay, and dinner was over way too soon.

Taylor pushed back his chair and said, “Miz Dotty and Miz Clarice, that was an excellent meal. I’ve eaten too much, and believe me, I will be braggin’ about it when I get back home. Walk me to the truck, Em?”

She laid her napkin on the table beside her plate. “Of course, but I sure would feel better if you’d stay the night. We haven’t talked nearly enough.”

“I’ll be home by bedtime and the roads are clear.”

“Please stay one night. It’s like a dream that you are even here, and you didn’t even get a tour of the ranch,” she begged when they were out of the house.

“Remember, I’m holding down my ranch and yours. I just wanted to surprise you,” he said.

“Well, you sure did that. I thought I was dreaming. I wish you would’ve brought Dusty. She would have put up a fit to stay at least one night and we both know you can’t refuse her,” Emily said.

“The surprise was only part of the reason I drove out here. The bull could have waited another month, but I wanted to meet this Greg fellow and I came prepared to hate him, but I didn’t and now I’m scared that you might stay here. The way he looks at you is downright—” He stopped.

She leaned against the cattle trailer. “What?”

“You’ve been like a sister to me and Dusty both,” he said. “At least promise you’ll come home and tell us in person, not do it with a phone call.”

“What in the hell are you talking about? I’m coming home, cowboy. This is a vacation, and folks come home from vacation,” she said and quickly changed the subject. “Did you take Melinda to the Valentine’s party last week?”

Taylor chuckled. “I did and we hit it off really good. I’m not lookin’ at her like that cowboy in there looks at you, not yet anyway, but I did ask her out again.”

Gramps used to say that people were fools if they set their plans up in stone because God had a wicked sense of humor, then he’d go on to tell stories about how his plans had been thwarted. Emily remembered several of those stories as she carried her two kittens up to her room that evening.

She’d offered to go with Max and Greg when they got the call that their fence had been cut and there were at least fifty head of cattle wandering up and down the road, blocking traffic. That would be using the word “traffic” very loosely, since there might be two or three pickup trucks driving down the road from Ravenna toward Lightning Ridge in a day’s time. But once out of the pasture, cows roamed, so there wasn’t anything to do but go herd them back into the pasture and fix the fence by flashlight power.

That meant a long, long night, no playing around in the attic, and she didn’t have a blessed thing to do that evening. The kittens must’ve put in a hard day of play after Taylor was out of the house because they went right to sleep.

Emily took a shower, washed her hair, did her nails, and picked out a dress for church the next morning. She would most likely be driving the ladies, and Greg would sleep in if he fixed fence all night long.

Her phone rang at ten thirty, and she picked it up without even checking the ID.

“Greg?” she asked.

“No, it would be Taylor. My bull is safe and sound, and the cows are already ogling him like you did Greg. Thought I’d let you know,” he said.

“I did not ogle.” She sighed.

“Oh, yeah, you did. I’ve never seen you look at a man like you do him. He might be the one, whether I like it or not.”

“I’m glad you are home safe, but I’m still mad at you for not staying the night. I could use some company. The cows got out and Greg is fixing fence and my cats are asleep,” she said.

She heard the sound of a cigarette lighter and rolled her eyes toward the ceiling.

“And I’m glad I came on home, because if I was there, I’d be fixin’ fence with the men folks, not sittin’ in the living room talkin’ to you, darlin’. That’s what visitors do when there’s work that needs to be done. You know that. Good night,” he said.

“You tell Dusty that you had dinner with me?” She hung on to the conversation.

“No, I did not. I don’t want to listen to her cussin’.” He laughed. “I’m hanging up now.”

The phone went completely silent and she sighed. Less than a minute later she heard a jingle and looked down at her phone. There was a text from Greg.
Fence is fixed. We’re herding them in through a gate down the road. Be late getting home. See you tomorrow morning. Dinner in Sherman after church?

She tapped in a message with her thumbs.
Are you asking me on a date?

Yes,
came back instantly.

I’d love to
, she typed in.

A smiley face icon appeared with one eye slid shut in a wink.

***

The standard preacher’s sermon lasted half an hour and she really tried to listen. But with Greg’s whole body pressed up against hers in the short pew, the preacher could have been reading straight from
Fifty
Shades
of
Grey
or one of the sequels.

From what she’d heard and read about the book, she figured her mind was leaning a whole lot more toward the “Grey” book than it was toward the Good Book that morning. One good romp and a ten-minute quickie in the attic had set her hormones into a tailspin, and all she could think about was kissing Greg and his hands on her body.

She was an adult, not a sophomore in high school, but that morning she did not get the message from the birth date on her driver’s license that she was a grown-up now or from Taylor, who’d reminded her quite emphatically and often that they were adults.

Finally, the preacher wound down and looked out over the congregation.

“Some of you may have heard the good news, but I’ll tell it again. Prissy Landers and Tommy Randolph were married this weekend in a private ceremony in Las Vegas. We all expected that when Prissy got married, it would be right here in her own church, but they didn’t want a bunch of fanfare, so they eloped. However, the ladies in the church are having a reception for them on Wednesday night at seven and everyone is invited. We’ll look for all y’all to be there. Clarice Adams is one of the hostesses, so if you have questions, call her. Now Everett Dempsey will please deliver the benediction.”

Every head bowed and Everett’s big booming voice said “Our Father.” The preacher tiptoed down the aisle, his head bowed reverently. The old guy took a while, but when he finally said, “Amen,” the Lord had been thanked for everything from the day and the wonderful spiritual sermon to the green grass beginning to come up after the snow and the sunshine.

“Praise the Lord,” Dotty mumbled next to her.

Emily looked over her shoulder.

Dotty said from the side of her mouth, “I thought we were going to starve plumb to death before he got his praying done. Remind me to never invite that man to supper. I hate cold mashed potatoes and gravy.”

“Madge has invited us to have dinner with her,” Clarice said as they waited for the congested center aisle to clear out. “We’re going home with her and then she’ll drive us to the ranch later this afternoon. We’re going to talk about the final touches for the bazaar next week. Y’all want to come along?”

Greg shook his head. “Emily and I have a date. We’re going over to Sherman and having a nice quiet dinner and maybe take in an afternoon movie.”

Clarice raised both eyebrows halfway to heaven. “A date?”

“Is it all right?” Emily asked.

“Are you over twenty-one?”

“Oh, stop the sh… sh… stuff, Clarice. You almost made me cuss right here in church. God… d… dang it! See there, I almost did it again. They’re grown. They can go get a hamburger and watch a movie without asking me or you,” Dotty said. “I swear cussin’ is even harder to give up than good Kentucky bourbon.”

“I’m over twenty-one,” Emily answered.

“Then I reckon you can date my grandson,” Clarice told her.

Greg laced his fingers in Emily’s and led her toward the pulpit, through the choir entrance, and out the back door.

“We’ll go to hell for sure if we don’t shake hands with the preacher.” She giggled.

“By the time Nana and Dotty get to the front of the line, he won’t remember who all he shook hands with. How about Chinese for dinner?” He helped her inside the van and leaned across to fasten the seat belt for her.

“How about takeout?” She kissed him on the cheek when he finished.

He took time to really kiss her, gently, then deeper, and then with so much hunger that she could feel her whole insides starting to hum. “Takeout where?”

“There’s a big backseat.” She tilted her head back. “Or a nice attic at home.”

“Too many windows for the backseat. Too far to get back to the attic. But I know just the right place to take our Chinese takeout dinner. I looked forward to meeting you in the attic all day yesterday and felt cheated last night.”

“Me too. And I didn’t have a letter under the door this morning,” she said.

“Did Marvin and Nana write every day?”

“Not at first.”

“Have I told you that you look beautiful today? That dress is the same color as your eyes. What color underwear are you wearing?” His eyes glittered like stars in a midnight sky.

“Who says I’m wearing any?”

He groaned. “God, Emily! I’m glad I didn’t know that in church.”

“They are blue and so is my bra.” She giggled. “And yours?”

“None. I told you about going cowboy.”

Her gasp was ever so slight, but he heard it and pointed a finger at her.

“Gotcha!”

The trip took less than twenty minutes and the takeout was ready in ten minutes. It smelled scrumptious in the backseat, but she wanted something else much more than she wanted food.

“Where to now?” she asked.

“See that sign right up there?”

“The car dealership?”

“No, the one beside it.” He pointed to the hotel sign.

“Oh, yes, sir.”

Signing in was a breeze. He carried the bag with their food and stopped at the vending machine room on the way and bought four Cokes.

“Is that enough?” he asked.

“Might have to come back. We could get very hot and thirsty,” she said.

Flirting had never been so much fun.

The room was at the far end of the hallway, and when they were inside, he set the food and drinks on the desk, turned around, and picked her up like a bag of chicken feed—butt up, head dangling down his back, giggles bouncing off the walls, dress flipped up to reveal two almost-naked, well-rounded cheeks with a string up the middle and the barest of silk at the top of the thong.

He kissed the cheek closest to his lips before he tumbled her onto the big, soft king-sized bed and landed on top of her. “You’ve got a very kissable ass, Miss Emily Cooper.”

“So glad you think so. I grew it just so you could kiss my ass.” She laughed.

“Ah, you are a smart-ass.”

“Make up your mind, cowboy. Is it kissable or smart?”

He pulled off his glasses and laid them on the nightstand and rolled to one side, keeping her in his arms. Lying on the bed put them on the same playing field, but still she felt herself tiptoeing when his eyes shut and his lips found hers in a scorching kiss that almost set the sprinklers in the ceiling into action.

He carefully undid every tiny button down the front of her dress, laid it back, and kissed her bare tummy, moving downward until he reached the thong. He grabbed it with his teeth and removed it slowly down her legs to her ankles, over her toes, and tossed it over his shoulder without ever touching it with his fingers. Then he started back up, tasting and kissing until she was moaning and arching her back.

She sat up, shimmied out of her dress and bra, and threw them at a chair, then pushed him back on the bed. Taking her time undressing him, she made sure he was panting every bit as hard as she was before she straddled his body and leaned forward, her breasts brushing against his chest hair.

Damn! She meant to turn him on to the boiling point, but that soft chest hair was doing a number on her desire button. She was near to exploding when she found his lips. She tasted the last remnants of the morning coffee and caught a whiff of the aftershave that put her squarely in the middle of the hottest desire she’d ever known.

He rolled with her and together they took their pleasure in each other’s bodies as if they’d die if they weren’t completely sated before the day ended. His mouth never left hers until they both cried out in a loud whisper at the same time, “Now. Right now.”

Afterward he pulled the edge of the snowy white comforter up over them and kissed her eyelids. “There are no words. Amazing doesn’t even cover the way I feel when I’m with you. I feel complete and whole.”

“Mmmm,” she said.

Taylor might be right. Maybe she did ogle!

***

Greg awoke in the middle of the afternoon to the sound of the shower running in the bathroom. He rolled out of bed, padded naked and barefoot through the open door, and pulled back the shower curtain.

“Water is nice. Dive right in.” She grinned.

“Don’t mind if I do,” he said. “Could I wash your back, ma’am?”

“And my front and anything else you want to touch, but not right now. If I don’t get food pretty soon, I’m going to wilt and pass on to the other side of eternity,” she said.

“Chinese is cold by now, darlin’.”

“I don’t care if it’s moldy. I’m going to eat it, drink two Cokes, and then we will get our money’s worth out of this room before we have to go home.”

“You’ll wear me plumb out. I’m not a teenager.” He chuckled.

“Couldn’t prove it by me.” She patted his bare butt and stepped out of the shower. “I’ll get the food out and the table set.”

“I didn’t see a table,” he said.

“Of course you didn’t, sweetheart. You are the table.”

“You are not eating Chinese off my stomach,” he said.

It was her turn to point and say, “Gotcha.”

He grabbed at her, but she stepped to the side and wrapped a big white towel around her body, tucking the end in above her breasts.

Even with water dripping off her, a hotel towel around her, and all her makeup gone, she was still gorgeous.