by Candis Terry
“I don’t know anything about canning,” she said, prepared to back the hell out of there.
“Me either. Thus the numerous smears down the apron. But we’re starting to catch on.”
“We?”
“Me and the girls. Minus Izzy, who’s hanging with her Uncle Jesse for some swim time.” Charli dragged her into the kitchen, where Jana, Abby, Fiona, and Annie all stood at what appeared to be specific workstations.
While her pregnant belly peeked from beneath a snug T-shirt, Annie sat on a stool popping cherry pits into a bowl. Abby stirred a huge pot on the stove. Jana had the food processor going. And Fiona was measuring out large portions from the biggest bag of sugar Allison had ever seen. Everyone stopped what they were doing and came over to give her a welcome hug. Their efforts definitely helped to overcome the awkwardness of walking into a room of women who all knew each other and you were the only stranger.
“We’re making jars of jam for wedding favors.” Charli thrust a pair of pinking shears in her hand and pulled out a chair. “You can cut the fabric squares we’re using to decorate the tops of the Mason jars. We’re tying them with raffia and putting these little tags on them. Aren’t they adorable?”
Love is Sweet.
Reno and Charlotte
Thank You for Sharing Our Happiness.
“I’ve seen these jars filled with candies before but never jam. That’s a lot of work,” Allison said. “Especially the week before your wedding. Most brides would sit back and take advantage of being catered to before the big day.”
“Hang around her long enough,” Jana said, “and you’ll see that the girl never stops.”
“I’ll stop tomorrow night. And most likely the next day, when I’m hungover.” Charli patted the chair for Allison, then she returned to tying the tags to the raffia. “You’re coming, aren’t you?”
“To . . . ?”
“Oh for land sakes.” Jana turned and thrust her fists onto her hips. “Didn’t your daddy give you and your sister the invitation to the bridal shower/bachelorette party? I gave it to him to mail to you before you got here.”
“It might have arrived after I was already en route. Danielle didn’t mention anything. But she’s pretty busy trying to hold down the chaos while I’m gone.” The notion that they’d thought to include her and Danielle before they’d even met made Allison’s heart feel all warm and fuzzy.
“Well, you’re coming,” Abby said. “We’re going to need an extra body to lug the bride-to-be back home.”
“No presents are necessary,” Charli added.
“Especially lingerie.” Annie laughed. “Big waste of money.”
“And why is that?” Charli asked with a playful flutter of her eyelashes.
“Because there’s no way Reno will leave it on long enough to appreciate it,” Fiona added.
Allison shot a look to Jana, wondering how she felt about the topic of conversation. Jana laughed. Comfortably. Allison couldn’t imagine her own mother sitting idly by while people talked about her sex life. Then again, as the mother of five good-looking sons, Jana had probably heard it all. Especially when at least one of them had a romantic reputation a mile long.
“I’d love to come,” Allison said. “But there’s no way I’m coming empty-handed.”
“There won’t be male strippers,” Fiona added.
“Thank God,” Jana said.
“Because really, what’s the point?” Abby said. “It would be impossible to find guys hotter than—”
“Lalalalala.” Jana covered her ears with her hands and laughed.
“You get my meaning?” Abby winked.
“I get it.” Allison had to agree. If there were better-looking men in the area than the Wilder brothers, she hadn’t seen them. Although she had to admit—if only to herself—that she wouldn’t mind a private performance of Jesse doing a slow, naughty, cowboy strip.
When the pot of cherry jam began to boil, the activity in the kitchen picked up, and all hands and bodies flew into motion. Allison picked up the pinking shears, and while she cut squares of fabric, she told Charli of the reception entertainment choices. Fake Elvis was out, the country band was in.
The camaraderie in the room was remarkable, and Allison found herself wishing Danielle was there to join in the fun. At the same time, as Allison began to relax a little and not feel like such an outsider, she realized that, were the shoe on the other foot, her own mother would never participate in this kind of down-home activity. She’d simply hire someone like Allison to put everything together, so she didn’t have to get her hands dirty. At the end, she’d write out a hefty check to cover all the expenses and the hassle.
Sadly, Allison realized that as an event planner, while she enjoyed putting things together and seeing the outcome, she also had a good amount of her mother’s DNA floating in her system. And as much as it pained her to admit, her biggest fear was becoming a replica of the woman who’d given her life. Most days, she fought to keep that from happening. Other days, she’d forget her boxing gloves.
She glanced across the room, where Jana stood next to Annie with her hands stretched over the young woman’s expanded belly. The smile that spread across Jana’s face reaffirmed that this was a woman who loved life and people. She was probably the most accepting person Allison had ever met. Her father might very well have struck gold.
There was no doubt Jana would take care of him and be there whenever he needed her. She’d listen to his troubles, hug him, and when he stumbled, she’d encourage him to get up and try again. She’d love him unconditionally. And when times got tough, Jana would put on her boots and kick the shit out of whatever was in the way of their happiness.
Allison craved that kind of connection with someone as deeply as she feared it.
Why that particular yearning brought Jesse Wilder to mind was something she didn’t want to examine too closely. The feelings developing for him were extraordinary. Unlike anything she’d ever felt before. Those feelings made her honestly dare to hope for the first time in her life.
The pinking shears in her hand stilled as the inkling of that desire froze her solid in her tracks.
How could she dare to hope when, time and time again, she’d witnessed the heartbreaking disappointment when hope was crushed?
Coward.
The word slithered through her heart even as she knew it to be true.
When her thoughts and desires became too much to bear, she went back to focusing on something still out of reach but definitely more pleasurable.
Those thoughts were of Jesse Wilder wearing a cowboy hat, a smile, and absolutely nothing else.
Chapter 10
Seven Devils was the spot where all bachelor and bachelorette parties ended. Didn’t matter where they began or whether the events started out prim and proper or down and dirty. Everybody ended up slamming shooters and draft brews until they were swimming in alcohol and stomping out a two-step on the battered dance floor.
Reno’s good-bye-to-bachelorhood party followed suit.
Everyone from Deputy Brady Bennett—their designated driver, to Charli’s brother Nick—a Marine sergeant who seemed quite popular with the women, and Aiden and Ben Marshall were there. Even creaky old Chester Banks had come out to celebrate the upcoming nuptials of the first Wilder brother to be taken off the market.
The females in the saloon lamented their loss.
Especially Lila Ridenbaugh, who’d tried her damnedest to sweet-talk Reno into becoming baby daddy number five. Or six. Or maybe she was on number seven now. Hard to say. Jesse just did his best to keep his distance.
While the cover band on stage cranked into “Boys ’Round Here,” the boys around the biggest table they could find raised their Shiners, Jack, and Wells in a toast. Most of what was said couldn’t be repeated in the company of ladi
es.
The later it got, the louder the band played, and the more people tried to talk over the music. Jesse tried not to make a habit of frequenting the saloon if only for his hearing’s sake. But once in a while a guy just had to say what the hell. He leaned back against the old barn-wood wall, kicked a booted foot up on the bench, and took a pull from his fresh bottle of Shiner. The ale went down crisp and cool. To his right, the saloon door opened and red neon light spilled inside the bar along with a giggling group of bachelorette party girls.
Charli came through the door first, decked out in a pink satin sash and a pink straw hat. Both proclaimed her the “Bride-to-Be.” Fiona, Abby, Annie, Paige, and Sarah Randall followed, along with several other ladies from town. By the blush on their cheeks, it was apparent someone had spiked the punch. Not that there was anything wrong with that. It was a night for celebration. It just appeared the girls had gotten quite the head start.
Grinning, Jackson elbowed Jesse in the side. “I think my fiancée’s trashed.”
Jesse glanced at Abby, who’d obviously smiled a while back, and it stuck. “No thinking about it.”
“I should probably take her home so I can get lucky before she passes out.” When Jackson moved to get off his chair, Jesse clamped a hand over his brother’s arm.
“They just got here. Let her have a little fun.”
“I can give her big fun.”
“You’re such a jackass.”
Jake leaned in. “What are you two whispering about?”
“The girls are . . .” Jesse’s words stopped along with his eyes when Allison stepped from behind the pack wearing tight, slightly ragged jeans, high-heeled boots, and a Pistol Annies “Hell on Heels” tank that hugged her glorious curves. A little slice of bare belly peeked out from the space between the top of her jeans and the hem of her shirt. “Damn.”
“I believe the word you were looking for was ‘tipsy,’ ” Jake said.
“Yeah. Sure.” Whatever. Jesse couldn’t take his eyes off her. Lucky for him, the girls spotted the bachelor party in the corner and made their way over. While Charli launched herself into Reno’s arms, Jesse stood. Allison looked up and gave him a big smile.
“Heeeeeey, handsome!”
Yep.
Tipsy.
“What are you guys doing here?” she asked as though it was some kind of oddity that a bachelor party would end up in the only honky-tonk in town.
“This is pretty much where everybody ends up at the end of the night.”
“Is that so? Last call doesn’t happen for . . .” She glanced at her rhinestone watch. “Four more hours.”
“Guess that means we still have some time to enjoy ourselves.” He smiled as she settled her hand on his chest to steady herself. “You want to sit down?”
“I didn’t come here to sit.” When the band eased into Florida Georgia Line’s “Cruise,” she curled her fingers into the front of his shirt, whipped the Stetson off his head, and popped it on top of her long, silky curls. “Come dance with me, cowboy.”
He ignored the catcalls some at the table made as she took him by the hand and pulled him onto the dance floor. At that moment, he’d let her take him just about anywhere.
After she’d burned rubber out of his driveway, he’d lain awake half the night thinking about her and wondering why he kept thinking about her. He didn’t have the time. Didn’t need the complication. He really needed to quit screwing around and stick to business, both of the four-legged and the two-legged varieties that bore the same last name as him.
With Allison, he’d tried to impose a keep your distance rule he’d shot down in flames about two seconds after she’d walked into his house. He had to keep his hands to himself. He had to keep his mind from straying to things like wondering what color panties she wore under those tight jeans. Or how badly he wanted to touch that bared midriff and caress her soft skin. He needed to get focused and stay focused.
All day he felt like he’d walked around in a daze. The one thing he realized as he’d stared up at his ceiling for hours was as hot as she made him for her body, something else ranked even higher.
Her heart.
She tried hard to hide the fact that she even owned one, but it didn’t take an Einstein to know her heart was big, warm, and generous. He also knew it had been broken almost beyond repair. Which was only one of the reasons why it meant so much for him to help her believe that anything was possible. That a forever kind of love was not only imaginable but achievable if she’d only open herself up to the possibilities.
From restoring old cars with his dad to taking care of family issues, he’d always been a Mr. Fix-it kind of guy. With Allison, he just might have come up against the ultimate challenge.
Through the haze, he noted the stubborn tilt of her chin.
Yeah.
He was totally screwed.
Instead of leading him to the center of the dance floor, where most couples went, she led him to the edge, where the lights were dim. With any other country tune, he could have simply held her hand and kept his distance by leading her into a two-step or swing. But the rhythm of the song practically insisted he take her in his arms and hold her close.
At least that’s what he told himself.
She came into his arms easily, with a smile that settled in right next to the slight buzz vibrating in his bloodstream. With his thigh pressed between hers and the heat of her warming him up, they swayed together. He couldn’t deny his attraction. He inhaled and captured that same, sweet, cotton-candy scent she’d worn the first night they met. And like that night, he wanted to lean in and bury his nose right in the soft curve of her neck and inhale her tastiness. His fingers caressed the smooth skin at the small of her back. As he tucked her against him a little tighter, he could swear he felt a quiver down her spine.
With a smile playing on her luscious lips, she looked up. “Where’d you learn to dance?”
“Here and there.”
“You move well,” she said, sounding surprised.
Not sure if he should take that as an insult, he just said, “Thanks.”
She chuckled, and the sound vibrated against his chest.
“What’s so funny?”
“That’s not what I expected you to say,” she said.
“Which is?”
“Mmmm . . . maybe something like, ‘I move better in the bedroom’ or a number of any other boastful bad-boy remarks.”
“Well, darlin’, men who do don’t need to brag.”
That luscious mouth dropped open just slightly.
If you listened to the ridiculous talk on the street, he was a legend. If you were looking for the truth, he’d admit that since puberty, he’d simply paid attention to women. He’d noticed the idiosyncrasies they revealed about themselves—their likes, their dislikes.
Whatever opportunity had come his way, he’d carefully explored his partners. Did she like this? What about if he did that? It had never been all about his own pleasure. And though the women he’d been with had been as unique as snowflakes, he’d studied their ways like a hungry student.
Even as an image of Allison—eyes closed and moaning in pleasure—dropped into his mind then hit farther south like a Rockeye bomb, he realized he couldn’t pin down her type.
And that just intrigued the hell out of him.
“Huh,” she said.
He chuckled. “What kind of a response is that?”
“Well . . .” A flirty smile brushed her lips. “A girl can’t help but wonder, can she?”
He’d done enough wondering in the past forty-eight hours for the both of them. “That kind of speculation can get you in trouble.”
“Really?” She pressed herself a little closer and grinned up at him. “Exactly what kind of trouble are we talking about? Handcuffs? Silk ties? Satin she
ets?”
Holy shit.
“You’re killing me,” he managed to say past the lump in his throat.
“Well that would spoil all the fun, wouldn’t it?”
While his lusty imagination traveled in all directions, she asked, “So what’s next?”
“Next? I don’t follow.”
“Right. Because you’re a guy. You lead.”
Aside from the ache in his groin, he felt a headache coming on. “Exactly how much have you had to drink?”
“Why? Am I not making sense?”
“Not even close.”
“Perfect! Women are supposed to remain a mystery, right?”
“Unfortunately.”
“I meant . . . what’s the next thing you have up your sleeve to show me that all roads of love lead to a happy forever?”
“Obviously, I haven’t done a very good job so far.”
“Oh, don’t be so hard on yourself.”
Her hand smoothed down the buttons on his shirt, completely distracting him from what he’d been about to say.
“I enjoyed the movie,” she said. “And really, watching you try to avoid the amorous attentions of Lucy and Ethel—I mean, Gladys and Arlene—was priceless.”
“Yeah. They’re a barrel of fun.”
“Or . . . they’d like to be in a barrel with you.”
Her smile sent a tingling sensation through the center of his chest.
“So what’s next?” she asked.
“Persistent, aren’t you?”
“If you talk to anyone who’s ever worked with me,” she said, “I usually get what I want.”
“And exactly what is it you want?”
While the adolescent, horny devil inside him rubbed its gleeful hands together and thought please say me, Jesse amazingly managed to behave like an adult.
As if it had been planned, the song ended. Without giving him a response, she slipped from his arms, turned on the heels of her boots, and, still wearing his hat, headed back to the group of party revelers.
Following Allison was no chore. In fact, it was a pleasure he could do all day. She moved like a confident woman who knew she had the sexy on but didn’t need to do a damn thing to advertise. He, unfortunately, had a whole lot of advertising going on below the belt.
