by Unknown
He made a noise like “uh- huh” and shifted into a more comfortable position without moving the small pillow from her shoulder.
Warm breath on her neck.
All they were going to find was a pile of ashes in the seat when the plane landed.
It had to be the HSS brought on by the pixie dust on the dress because Ace Riley had been in the café almost every day for the past year and a half, and not one time had she wanted to jump his bones.
Ace roused up when the plane landed. He stretched as much as possible in the tight space, tossed the pillow over on the empty chair, and looked at Jasmine.
“Guess it wasn’t a dream, was it?” he said.
Her hands were clenched together so tightly that her knuckles were white. “It wasn’t a dream. We are married.”
He covered her hands with one of his big rough paws.
“We’ll get through this, Jazzy. You are the strongest woman I know.”
“Well, thank you for that vote of confidence.” She managed a weak smile.
Her hands relaxed and he moved his away. “Hey, lady, any woman who could resist my charms for more than a year has to be strong.”
“Have I told you today that you are the most egotisti-cal cowboy I’ve ever met?”
He grinned.
Why in the hell was a simple smile so different that day than it had been on Thursday last week, or even the first time they met?
She jerked her hand free. “We’ve got an hour and fifty minutes here in Houston. What do you want to do?”
“Eat!”
The girls behind them giggled and threw flirty looks toward Ace as they left the plane in a pack. Ace waited until everyone behind them had already gotten off before he stepped out into the aisle and offered Jasmine his hand.
“Thank you,” she muttered.
“Us sexy cowboys who marry old women try to be obligin’.” He grinned.
“You demon! You weren’t asleep.”
His eyes sparkled. “I was some of the time, but a sexy cowboy likes to listen to his lit le groupies. I know I slept some of the time because I’m hungry. I always wake up starving from a nap.”
She put her hand in his. “It’s not funny, and I’m not old. And you are two years older than me, so there.”
“But my groupies think I’m sexy. Did I hear your bones creaking when you stood up? I told you we should have brought your cane.”
“It’s not going to work, Ace,” she said softly.
“What? Walking?”
“You know what I mean. You’ve always teased me out of bad moods. This one is too big and too black,” she told him.
“Food! That will help. When there’s a big old scary monster in my path, I go to your café and you kill it for me by making me a double cheeseburger and fries. You didn’t eat three bites of breakfast. Let’s go get something fast and hot.”
Fastandhot! Hmmm, I could go for that. She quickly lassoed the thoughts before they could materialize into Technicolor.
“Wel , hal e- damn- lulah!” Ace pointed toward the board in front of them as they stepped out into the terminal. “Our next flight is on time and leaves from next door. And there is a McDonald’s. We are two lucky people today, Jazzy.”
She didn’t feel so lucky. She felt like she was sitting on top of a keg of dynamite and the fuse had already been lit.
He led her to the counter and looked at Jasmine.
“What’ll it be?”
“An order of fries and a chocolate shake.”
“Give her a number one, supersize it, and two of those apple pies,” he said.
“Ace!”
“You’ve got to eat or you won’t have the energy to help me take care of the shit storm waiting on us,” he said.
“It’ll take more than food to build up that much energy. Honey, it’s bigger than Katrina and dumping something far worse smelling than a hurricane.” She managed a weak smile.
He pointed toward an empty table and let her lead the way. He pulled out a chair for her and then sat down across from her while they waited for their number to be called. “Come on, Jazzy. You can give me a bigger smile than that. You are the strongest woman I know.
Laugh at the situation. Get mad. Do something other than pout.”
She exploded right there in the airport. “Pout! I’m not pouting! Have you ever seen me pout? I’m not a whimpering woman.”
“That’s better,” he said.
One cowgirl in tight- fitting jeans and bright red boots winked at her and gave her a thumbs- up sign.
That put more courage in Jasmine’s backbone than all the inner arguments had done since the television broadcast the night before. She threw back her head and laughed. “I. Am. Not. Pouting,” she said again between giggles.
“And that is funny? Why?” Ace asked.
“You wouldn’t understand. It’s a woman thing,” she said. “But now I’m hungry and they are calling our number. I hope you didn’t order all that food for me in hopes you’d get to eat half of it.”
“That’s my Jazzy,” he said.
When they were back on the plane, in the air, and on the leg of the journey from Houston to Dallas, Jasmine motioned to the flight attendant with a stack of pillows in her hand.
“My turn,” she said.
“What?” Ace asked.
“I’m taking a nap. No groupies behind us for me to have to protect you from, so darlin’, be a good husband and don’t wake me until it’s time to buckle up for the landing,” she said.
Ace took the pillow from the attendant, fluffed it up, and put it on his shoulder. “Put ’er here, pard’ner.” She rolled the kinks from her neck and rested on his shoulder, shut her eyes, and went right to sleep, only to dream of a tornado hitting the café and Ace carrying her out the back door to safety.
Ace could tell by the way she was breathing and her eyes were dancing behind her eyelids that she was dreaming. Long, thick eyelashes rested on her high cheekbones framed by dark hair. Her lips were full and oh so kissable, and her body was made for a man’s hands to explore.
GottostopitorI’ll be in misery, he thought. He looked out the window at the ground below and imagined getting stuck out in one of those lonesome places with Jasmine— a willing Jazzy who’d want him as much as he’d wanted her since that wedding kiss.
The landing wasn’t smooth, and Jasmine awoke with a start. “Did we make it?”
“I believe we did,” Ace said.
“I was afraid that it was going to blow us away.” Her eyelids fluttered and then snapped open. “I was dreaming.”
“About what?” he asked.
“A big storm. We were the only ones in the café and it was coming on fast. The wind was howling and everything was this strange eerie shade of green. The funnel was touching down and then going back up, and I couldn’t move. You grabbed me and carried me out the back door. We were going for your truck to outrun it when I woke up,” she said.
“See, I told you I’d protect you,” he said. “Ready to go home?”
“Yes, I am,” she said stoically.
Chapter 5
The parking lot at Chicken Fried was not empty.
Jasmine nosed her truck in beside a whole line of other vehicles. There was Gemma’s little red truck, Rye’s black truck, and Pearl’s vintage Caddy. She loved her friends, every one of them, but after the past twenty- four hours and fighting Dallas traffic she would have gladly driven into a parking lot that was completely empty.
She’d followed Ace all the way from the airport, up I- 35 to Gainesville, and across on Highway 82 to Ringgold without stopping, keeping her eyes on the tail end of his truck and wishing the trip would last five hours instead of one. Normally, she hated Dallas traffic and would rather fight a hungry coyote than drive to the Dallas Fort Worth airport, but right then she’d gladly drive right back down there and get lost on every one of the loops around the city.
At least her mother’s car wasn’t among them and she’d been spare
d that for a few days. Ace opened her truck door and stood to one side. The sun was bright and the day hot. The wind that rushed into the truck was hotter than Ace, and that was pretty damn hot.
She could’ve slapped that grin right off his face, but it wasn’t his fault she was in this mess either. She’d volunteered for the job. But in her own defense, she hadn’t expected it to be anything more than a twenty- four- hour lark and a big yearlong secret.
“You ready for this?” he asked.
“Hell, no!”
“You want to get in my truck and we’ll run away and hide out until they go home?” he asked.
She rol ed her green eyes. “They won’t go home.
They’ll chase us down and make us be happy ever after.
Ace, they think we are real y, truly married. The real kind where everything is kissy- kissy happy.” Ace snapped his fingers. “Okay, Jazzy, get into character. You are a new bride who just had an amazing night of sex in a big fancy hotel. You can play the wife role for a year. I know you can! Remember, those people in Vegas thought you were an actress. You can do this.”
“I’m feelin’ pretty bitchy for a wife who just had sex.
Strange, I don’t remember it and I’ve always had the impression you were pretty good in that area,” she said.
Ace slung an arm around her shoulder. She was exactly the right height for a comfortable hug. “Just pretty good? Damn, Jazzy! I thought I was dazzlin’ good.”
“I guess I can pretend.” She sighed.
“That can be remedied anytime you want a taste of the real thing so you don’t have to pretend. That sounds like the beginnings of a good country song. Think I should call Josh Turner and see if he wants to write the rest of it?”
“Don’t tease me!”
The front door of the café swung open and Gemma raced out on the porch to wrap them both in a hug. “Y’all pulled a sneaky on us. We would have all flown out to Vegas with you if you’d have let us know. Come on in.
We’ve got wedding cake and cold beer.”
“How long have you been here?” Ace asked.
“Thirty minutes. I figured if you had to check out of the hotel at eleven and your flight was about noon-time, with the layovers and all that you’d be home about now,” Gemma said. “Remember, I’ve flown in and out of Vegas for the Pro Rodeo twice now.”
Pearl was first in line to hug Jasmine when she was inside the dining room of the café. “I bet your momma is livid.”
“Worse. We have to get married in Texas and she gets to pick out the dress.” Jasmine giggled nervously.
“Dear God!” Pearl gasped.
“Eloping was not her idea of an only daughter’s wedding,” Jasmine said.
“It’ll be horrid,” Pearl said.
“Yep, with a train from Amarillo to Beaumont. And you are going to be the matron of honor and she’s picking out your dress too.”
“Shit!” Pearl gasped.
“Now you are beginning to get the picture. One month from today on the second Sunday in July.
Marcella is helping.”
“Holy shit!” Pearl whispered.
“Yes, ma’am,” Jasmine said.
“I love a party. Do I get to come?” Gemma asked.
“Me too. Who is Marcella?” Liz asked.
“Momma’s cousin who fancies herself a wedding planner. I swear she has every wedding magazine sub-scription for the past five decades and if there is anything newfangled she wil fit it into the wedding. You can bet we’l have a unity candle; we’l scat er sand with our parents to blend two families together; we will have a fancy prayer bench to kneel on while the preacher blesses the rings; you name it and we wil have it. It will take two hours to marry us and five hours worth of reception if Marcella has her way. She says anything as expensive as a wedding should be memorable.”
“Jesus!” Ace said.
“He can’t help you, honey. But if you want Marcella to invite Him, she will and Momma will demand that God let Him attend,” Jasmine said.
Gemma threw her hand over her head. “Girl, I’m pretty good at stayin’ on a bronc’s back long enough to win, but I’m not so sure about dodgin’ lightnin’ bolts.” Jasmine could vouch for the fact that God was takin’
care of heavier matters than weddings and blasphemy that day. “You and Austin are bridesmaids, and I may need to get out the phone book to have enough women beside me to make Momma happy. She will insist that all of Ace’s brothers serve as groomsmen and then there is Rye and Wil, so I’l need lots of bridesmaids. And Momma loves taffeta!”
Pearl shuddered. “Please not apricot- colored.”
“That’s Momma’s favorite.” Jasmine shouldn’t have taken pleasure in tormenting Pearl when she was nine months pregnant, but she damn sure couldn’t share the real story with her. And it was the first time anything happened in Jasmine’s entire life that she couldn’t share, so Pearl could just be miserable with her over the color of the dresses. It was a small price for a friend to pay.
Ace squeezed her waist. “How many? Did you say all my brothers? I was thinking maybe just Wil and Rye.”
“Momma may decide we need a dozen of each. It ain’t legal unless it’s registered in the great state of Texas and has enough bridesmaids and groomsmen to fill up the whole front of the church. And it’s a big wide church, let me tell you. Momma ain’t havin’ grandkids that are results of a questionable marriage license. It could be they might want to run for president and a Las Vegas marriage license wouldn’t be worth the paper it’s written on.”
“For real? Are you kiddin’?” Gemma asked.
Jasmine pointed at Pearl. “It’s the pure unadulterated God’s honest truth. You better have those twins next week.”
Rye clapped a hand on Ace’s shoulder. “We had no idea you two were even seeing each other.”
“Or that you were thinkin’ about getting married.
Was it a big surprise, real y a surprise, when you won that package deal at the chapel?” Austin asked.
Rye and Austin had only been married a couple of years. She’d inherited a watermelon farm over in Terral, just five miles from Ringgold, across the Red River into Oklahoma. She’d intended to come to southern Oklahoma and sell the place, but Rye lived across the road and she fel in love with him and the watermelon farm.
All of the O’Donnell men— Rye, Dewar, and Raylen—
were tall, dark- haired cowboys that had a swagger in their walk and a drawl in their talk. Handsome beyond description, they were. But not a one of them made Jasmine’s pulse race like Ace did when he took her hand in his.
Raylen patted Ace on the back. “Ace has always been the sneaky one of the bunch.”
“You got a lot of room saying that,” Dewar said.
Raylen grinned. “Guess I do. Me and Liz pulled off a sneaky wedding too, didn’t we?”
The Christmas before Raylen had married Liz with no family or friends at the wedding. Liz’s uncle left her twenty acres adjoining the O’Donnell horse ranch. She was born and raised in a traveling carnival, but she’d always dreamed of putting down roots. When her mother asked her what she wanted for Christmas every year, she’d told her that she wanted a house with no wheels and a sexy cowboy. Her Uncle Haskell gave her the house; Raylen O’Donnell supplied the rest.
Dewar handed Ace a beer. “Here, man. You probably need something cold after that stunt. And I believe the last number we talked about was a hundred dollars?” Dewar was the last of the O’Donnell male offspring not married. He had jet- black hair, green eyes, deep dimples in a square face, and a scar on his cheek. He and Ace had a running bet as to which one would outrun the women the longest.
Ace let go of Jasmine’s hand long enough to draw his wallet from his hip pocket and put a bill in Dewar’s hand. “You’d better go home and take off them boots and get on some runnin’ shoes because you are the last eligible bachelor in Ringgold.”
“Hell if I am. You still got three younger brothers,” Dewar said.
“Okay, then among the five of us.” Ace recounted and slipped Jasmine’s hand back into his.
Wil grinned. “That is four down and one to go.
Dewar, you got something you want to tell us so we aren’t shocked all to hell again in a few weeks?” Austin grabbed Jasmine’s arm and pulled at her.
“Come on. You can leave your new husband for a few minutes and tell us how this all came about.”
Ace held on tightly. Together they’d work their way through the next year. He wouldn’t forsake her.
“Ace, darlin’, look at that cake. How did y’all get something on such short notice?” she said, changing the subject.
Pearl beamed. “There’s a bakery in the grocery store in Nocona. The minute Gemma saw the news she called over there and she and Liz made a trip over there this morning.”
Gemma O’Donnell was the same height as Jasmine.
She had dark hair, green eyes, and a wide smile that lit up the whole café. She owned the beauty shop next to Jasmine’s café, and she and Jasmine were good friends— both full of spit and vinegar, and together they plowed right through every obstacle that got in their way.
Jasmine kept the whine inside, but she really wanted to let it out. She couldn’t even tel Gemma, and when the year was up, Gemma was going to be livid.
“Bet that fancy hotel didn’t have a wedding cake, did it?” Liz asked.
“No, ma’am, it did not. Who’s goin’ to cut that thing?
I love cake,” Ace said.
He wasn’t sure he could actually swallow a bite, not after what Jazzy had said about the next wedding.
Lord, he’d pictured it as something small with one person to stand up with him and one with Jazzy and a cake and some punch. Not a full- fledged shindig that would last two hours in the church and another five at a reception.
Gemma picked up the knife. “I’m going to cut it and you are going to feed each other so you’ll have lots of good luck and this marriage will last forever. Pearl, you pour some beer in these two glasses and they can toast, too. I thought about champagne, but you’ve already had that with the fancy limo and room. Besides, you are back in Texas so it’s beer! But the cake feeding is going by the books because I intend for you to stay married because you couldn’t have picked better soul mates.” She set the top layer of the small three- tiered cake to one side before she cut the next layer. “You have to freeze the top layer and eat it on your first anniversary for good luck.”
