The Cowboy's Mail Order Bride (23 page)

She tossed the underpants back on the table and shifted her position until she was lying on top of him. His body was hard and tough but felt oh so right underneath her naked breasts, tummy, and legs. She traced his masculine jawline with her forefinger and he groaned.

“You turn me on with nothing but your hands.” He wrapped his arms around her tighter and nuzzled his face into the soft crook of her neck.

“You turn me on with nothing but your kisses,” she whispered.

He flipped her over and kissed her softly at first, then deepened the kiss, turning sweet into a raging fire of desire that begged for satisfaction. Her hands roamed over his broad back and lower to his hips and thighs until she ran out of reach. She’d never realized before that moment that there were erotic zones in the tips of her fingers, and just touching his body turned her on almost as much as him touching her… almost.

He kissed her lips, eyelids, tip of her nose, neck, and every other part of her body he could reach as he settled on top of her and found his way inside her body, uniting them. They began a steady rhythm, working together until they were both frenzied. She nipped his neck and then backed off. His mother would hate her if he showed up with a hickey. But even that fleeting notion going through her head couldn’t take away the heat. Not until he looked down into her eyes and asked without saying a word; not until his mouth found hers as they tumbled over the top together; not until he’d rolled to the side and wrapped his arms around her, letting the afterglow of something wonderful warm them from the inside out; not until then did the heat subside inside her body.

“I love you,” she panted.

“I love you, darlin’.”

Just before she fell asleep, she wondered what happened next in the relationship. She’d never gone this far before, never said the words, never felt the love in her heart. Now what?

The band was set up and ready. Dotty had done a quick head count and there were more than a hundred people in the barn, so that meant more than five hundred dollars was already in the fund. They’d sold twenty fans at ten dollars each, so that was even more. And now the band was ready to start playing and the ladies with the fans stuck in their hip pockets had bought tickets.

“It’s time.” Dotty pointed at the chairs. “Greg, go take your place.”

Greg pushed back his chair. “How many tickets did you buy, Emily?”

“I got a fan but no tickets. They were sold out by the time I got to the end of the line to buy some. You’re on your own, cowboy,” she said.

The grin that had been on his face all evening faded. “You are kidding, right? Women have been coming up to me all evening saying that they’re so glad that I invited them and I don’t know who in the hell they are. I just smile and say that I sure hope they’re having a good time.”

Jeremiah sucked in a lung full of air and let it out slowly. “I’m glad Mama didn’t put me up there to auction. And believe me, those women sure know you, so don’t be playing dumb. Several of them have cornered Stacy. Those two over there in the leather jeans and cowboy boots,” he nodded toward the bar, “they made Stacy blush. And that’s not an easy thing to do.”

“Do you know what in the hell is going on?” Greg asked Dotty.

“Just enjoy having so many adoring women around you,” she answered.

Greg groaned. “What in the hell have they done, Emily?”

Max had an empty beer bottle in one hand and was on the way to the bar when he stopped and said, “Looks like this might be an annual affair, so you guys who don’t like being on the auction block might be thinking about finding a wife by this time next year. I’m on my way to get another beer. Auctioneering will dry me plumb out if I’m not well hydrated.”

Greg planted a kiss on Emily’s forehead. “Next year I think it should be reversed. Us cowboys get to buy the fans and the tickets and the cowgirls have to sit in the chairs up there in the sale ring.”

“Now that’s a damn fine idea. Every other year we’ll turn it around. My granny always said that turnabout was fair play,” Dotty said.

“Can I have your attention, folks?” the band’s lead female singer said.

All conversations ceased and everyone looked toward the stage.

“We are going to start playing, and I understand it’s time for the cowboys who have chairs reserved to come right on up here and take their places. Ladies, look at your tickets and see who you’ve bought the rights for this first song.”

An even dozen cowboys took their seats and held glittered signs in their laps. Cowgirls started the stampede from the bar and the far corners to look at the cowboys.

“I’ve got to go relieve Ivy at the bazaar table,” Dotty said. “Look. Nancy picked up two baby stocking hats and a pretty pink baby blanket.”

Emily blushed and Nancy waved. “I heard that, Dotty. One of the secretaries at the firm is having a baby girl.”

“Oh, I thought you were looking ahead at being a grandma.” Dotty took Ivy’s place behind the table and straightened the items that had been rifled through. “This whole thing was Emily’s idea. She thinks of everything. It was her idea to sell the tickets and to put names on the front and numbers on the back. There could have been a stampede if she hadn’t. Might have been fun to see the hair pullin’ and bitch slappin’ though. She figured out that if the cowgirls just put a dollar in a jar, there could be catfights over which cowboy they wanted to dance with, so they had to buy tickets with the cowboy’s name on them. If they get caught dancing without a ticket they get a bazaar fine and have to put ten dollars in the jar.”

“It makes me sad,” Nancy whispered.

“That the women would flock around your son? Look at all those girls lining up to dance with him.”

“No, that the chance of him coming back to Houston to work in the firm is getting slimmer by the minute, and it doesn’t have a thing to do with all those women. It has to do with Emily Cooper,” Nancy whispered as she picked up several of the cowboy dream catchers. “I love these. Who made them?”

“Clarice and I did, and you better get as many as you want because they’re going like hotcakes.”

Nancy smiled. “How many tickets has Emily really got in her pocket to dance with my son?”

“Not a single one. For one thing, Rose bought up the last five while Emily was helping us fix up the homemade table. For another, she says that she wants to dance with the other cowboys to see which one she’s going to bid on,” Dotty answered.

A frown replaced Nancy’s smile. “That’s crazy. I figured she’d buy all his tickets and then bid on him too. She does love him, doesn’t she? Or is he going to get his heart broken?”

Dotty leaned forward and whispered, “What if he did?”

“I’d hate to see him in pain,” Nancy said. “But it might make him realize that he should come on back where he belongs. He’s thirty and it’s time for him to get established in the company if he’s going to make partner by forty.”

“He was born a rancher,” Dotty said.

“I know that, but a mother can hope for a change.”

Dotty reached across the table and patted Nancy on the hand. “I wanted Jeremiah to go into ag-business in college so he’d stick around here. Clarice had already said that she’d make a job for him at Lightning Ridge, but be damned if he didn’t have his heart set on being a private investigator. Ain’t no room in Ravenna for that kind of job. So I had to suck it up and accept it. He’s happy. That makes me happy. You be happy for Greg wherever he settles or you’ll be miserable.”

“I’m not you, Dotty,” Nancy said.

“He’s a cowboy, darlin’. And he loves it. And them two kids were made for each other. Emily knows what she’s doin’ tonight, and when it comes down to the final moment, she’ll realize that she can’t stand for another woman to have him even for one date.”

“If he’s in love with her or falls in love with her, they’ll settle down right here forever,” Nancy whispered.

“I think that part about falling in love has already happened.” Dotty gave Nancy’s hand another pat and moved to the end of the table where several women had gathered to look over the display of knitted scarves.

***

Nana was so excited about all the money coming in for the scholarship fund that Greg would bet his brand-new boots that it really would be a yearly affair from then on, and by damn, next year he was going to be married.

“Whoa, cowboy,” he mumbled.

He caught sight of his mother and Dotty having a visit at the table where the ladies had spread out all their sale items. It looked like she was buying a baby blanket.

What would his and Emily’s children look like? Would they have her gorgeous blue eyes and dark hair?

Sons? Would they be cowboys or would it skip the next generation and he’d be a grandfather before a child was born into the family who loved the land as much as he did? No, he and Emily’s genes were rooted in ranching enough that their sons would be cowboys for sure.

Daughters? He kept the groan inside, but when he thought of teenage daughters as pretty as Emily, he vowed that he would nail the door shut to the attic room above the garage. And he’d keep a shotgun beside the front door to scare off the boys.

Prissy dragged Tommy over to the table and spoke to Nancy before picking up several things and handing them to Dotty. Tommy pulled out his billfold and paid while Dotty put the purchases into a bag.

Greg wiped his brow, leaving a few flakes of sparkly glitter in the wake. Tommy wanted children, lots of them. Greg wanted children, lots of them. Sweet Jesus, what if Prissy’s daughters grew up to fall in love with Greg’s ranching sons?

Now
that
is
one
scary
as
hell
idea
, he thought.

“Ladies, choose your partners. We’re off and running with a good old country two-step from Sara Evans in exactly two minutes.”

The lead guitar picker hit a couple of chords, and two dozen ladies with little red tickets showed up at his chair. “He’s mine. He invited me personally to this party. Tell them, Greg. Tell them that Tonya is the one who brought the leather and intends to go for a wild ride later tonight. Tonya is going to buy Greg, so the rest of you can just stand back. I don’t even need any of those damned old tickets. He’s promised every dance to me.”

“You’re full of shit, woman. And he wouldn’t invite you when he invited me. Tell her that I’m the one you’ve been cyber-dating on PlentyOfFish.com.”

“I’ve been doing what?” Greg said, his mouth dropping open.

A whole passel of women jostling in front of him, blondes to redheads to brunettes and every size imaginable, looked like they were about to put up their fists and start a brawl right there in Nana’s bazaar.

A cute little blonde pushed her way to the front of the line. “PlentyOfFish.com. That’s not where a good Christian man would be hanging out on cyberspace. He wouldn’t even look at that site. He and I met on Christian Mingle. Look at me. There’s no way you’d forget this.” She did a sweeping motion with her hand from head to toe.

“You can both kiss my ass. You’ve got the wrong Greg Adams. We met on Farmers Only and I’m here at his personal request. I’m a ranching woman and that’s what his profile said he’s interested in.” A tall redhead bullied her way right up to him and laid a long, passionate kiss on his lips. “You said I was supposed to save a kiss for you, so let’s dance.”

Tonya pushed her to the side and the woman turned around with her fists up. “You want some of this? I might be a Christian, but I don’t put up with being pushed around.”

Emily yelled, “Enough!” and the crowd of women parted like the Red Sea to let her through. She held up a hand. “I’m sorry, ladies, but there’s been a big misunderstanding. Someone has put Greg’s profile on several sites without him knowing it. Only the women who have tickets can dance with him tonight. There’s a number on the back of your ticket, so check them.”

“Tickets? No one told me I had to buy tickets. He said I was guaranteed every dance with him,” Tonya said.

“Well, shit! I drove a hundred miles to this shitty affair,” one woman said.

“Hell, honey, I flew from Wyoming.”

“I came from Kentucky,” another said.

“I’m sorry again, ladies. You might as well have a good time while you are here, and there’s still some tickets for the other cowboys if you want to dance. And you’ll all have a chance to bid on Greg at the auction if you want to come back in a week for a date,” Emily said.

“Emily, you want to explain what’s going on here?” Greg said behind her.

“Later,” she whispered over her shoulder.

“I’m on my way to buy up every ticket there is for the Mason cowboy,” the little blonde said.

“You’re going to have to beat me,” the tall redhead told her.

They all ran for the table where Rose was selling the last of the dance tickets faster than greased lightning.

That left two women standing in front of Greg. The closest one giggled. “You got him first, Montie. I didn’t realize they were numbered. Mine has 2 behind his name, so he’s mine next. Don’t wear him out or whisper promises that you can’t keep in his ear. I can’t believe someone actually had those hussies believing that Greg was on a dating site. Lord, anyone that knows him would know better than that.”

Greg stood up and laid his glitter sign on the chair. Montie wrapped her arms around his neck and plastered her body so close to his that her breasts were crushed flat against his chest. “Darlin’, I brought my checkbook and I fully well intend to have a date with you next week. I’ve already booked a hotel room in Dallas and told them what to order for room service. You just bring lots of energy and your credit card to pay the bill.”

The song ended and a tall blonde tapped Montie on the shoulder, held up her ticket, and took her place with Greg. He looked out over her shoulder to see Emily waving at him. A trip to the courthouse was looking better by the minute.

The blonde in his arms smiled at him. “I don’t think you remember me, darlin’. I’m Mallory and I was a freshman when you were a senior. I met you right here in this barn that summer at the Fourth of July party and fell in love with you. I will own you when they do the auction. Daddy said I could spend up to five hundred dollars because it’s a good cause.”

He and Emily hadn’t discussed money. He’d just assumed that she would bid on him, but he couldn’t see the fan in her hip pocket and she had to have one to bid.

“Are you listening to me, Greg Adams?” Mallory asked.

“Yes, ma’am. And if you buy me, what are your plans for a date?”

“I’m cooking at my house. I’m making your favorite.”

“And that is?” he asked.

“Fried chicken, hot rolls, mashed potatoes, gravy, and chocolate cake for dessert. I know everything about you except how good you are in bed, but I will find out that night, darlin’. I intend to feed you every bite of supper before we slip and slide around on satin sheets. You won’t lift a single finger or fork on our date, and honey, I will be naked except for a see-through, black lace apron,” Mallory whispered.

Nana would have a heart attack if she knew what she’d unleashed with her idea of a cowboy auction. Were all the other cowboys getting erotic play-by-plays of their upcoming Friday night dates?

“And if you don’t win a date with me, who else are you bidding on?” Greg asked.

“Second choice is Mason. Third would have been Tommy, but Prissy done stepped in and stole him, so my third choice is Coleman.”

Greg chuckled. “Mason has twin daughters.”

Mallory giggled. “Darlin’, I’m just buying him for a night, not forever. I’m damn sure not taking on those two girls. They’d put a shrink in a mental hospital.”

“My turn.” A short redhead stepped into Greg’s arms on the third song. “Hello, Greg.”

“Fiona,” he said stiffly as he wrapped his arms loosely around her waist.

“Been a while.”

“It has,” he said.

“I’m not bidding on you, but I did want one dance with you just for old time’s sake. I’m sorry about the way things ended. I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she said.