Just a Cowboy and His Baby

by Carolyn Brown

  “Dammit!” she swore under her breath.

  Snippets of how they’d spend the last night they’d have together had flashed though her mind all day. None of them involved him sitting on the sofa watching television while she lazed in a Jacuzzi all alone.

  She dropped her purse and duffel bag on the floor beside the bed, stripped out of all her clothing, and padded naked and barefoot to the tub. She turned on the water, adjusted it, twisted her ponytail into a messy bun, and secured it with a clamp she’d dug out of her purse.

  The water was barely ankle deep when she sat down in it and leaned her head back on a rolled towel, but the faucet was spitting it out with such force that it wouldn’t take long to fill completely.

  “Comfortable?” Trace asked from the sofa where he and Sugar had collapsed.

  “It will be when it’s full. Shuck out of those clothes and come on in,” she said.

  When she heard a boot thump she slid one eye open to watch the show. Trace kicked off the other boot and caught her staring, flashed his most brilliant smile ever, and opened up his laptop.

  “Dammit, Trace! You can check your emails anywhere. Jacuzzi suites are not free. I know you paid high dollar for this room,” she grouched.

  His grin got even bigger when he hit a few keys and suddenly music came floating out of the tinny speakers on the computer. Blake Shelton was singing “Hillbilly Bone,” and Trace turned it into the sexiest damn strip song in the whole world.

  He undid his belt buckle to the beat of the drums, and Gemma couldn’t even blink for fear she’d miss something. It took so long to unzip his jeans that she thought she’d die before he finally got them undone. And during the whole process, his dark eyes never left hers. He peeled his britches down to his ankles and kicked them to one side and then pulled his shirt up to reveal abs that a weight lifter would commit homicide for. The song ended at the same time he was totally naked, wearing nothing but a smile.

  She crooked a finger, motioning him to get in with her. Still staring right into her eyes, he leaned forward and kissed her hard without touching her anywhere else. Her whole body begged for more, more touching, more kisses.

  “Honey Bee” by Blake was playing when he finally slid into the water. His toes came to rest against her thigh and he wiggled them in a gentle massage. How in the hell toes against her leg could turn her on was a mystery, but not as great a one as how the water kept from boiling.

  He pushed the button and the water began to bubble, sending massaging jets against her back. The sensation of his foot against her skin, the bursting bubbles on her back, and the vision of the fine dark hair on his chest matted down with water sent delicious warmth through her body.

  “I really will be your honeybee.” He grinned.

  “We never had our talk.”

  “We’ve got weeks and weeks to figure this out,” he answered.

  She nodded. “New game rules.”

  “You’re going to let me win at Vegas?” he asked.

  “Hell no!”

  “Then I get to call the game rules for this Jacuzzi. Only one body part can touch the other one. My foot on your thigh for two whole minutes, moving any way I want it to move and then it’s your turn,” he said.

  She grinned. “I can live with those rules. Your two minutes are up, so it’s my turn.”

  She rose up in the water just as “Angels Fall Sometimes” began to play. She started a very slow dance, bending at the waist to brush a kiss across his lips without touching another part of his body. When Josh sang about her bringing pieces of heaven every day to his life, Gemma kissed Trace again—with more passion and lingering all the way through the lyrics about him not being afraid to dream high with her by his side.

  “Your turn,” she said when the song ended.

  “Lord Have Mercy on a Country Boy” started playing, and the mischievous look in his eyes said that he was going to make her pay dearly for her sexy dance.

  “I choose one finger and your beautiful face.”

  How in the hell could a finger on her face be sexy, she wondered. But in less than fifteen seconds she was panting. He made love to her face using only the forefinger on his right hand. His finger moved down her jawline so softly that it felt like butterfly wings brushing against her skin.

  His lips moved so close to hers that she could taste the kiss, and then he traced the outline of her full lips with his finger. She had to tense her body to keep from reaching out and pulling his lips to hers for a kiss. His touch on her eyelids shot sensations all the way to her toenails, and the bridge of her nose became an erogenous zone when he drew a line to her chin and then down her neck. He stopped before he reached her breasts.

  “Just the neck up this time. Next time I’ll choose another area of your gorgeous body,” he said.

  “Game over. I can’t take anymore,” she whispered hoarsely and straddled his lap.

  “I really will be your honeybee,” he mumbled as she guided him into her.

  “I know. We are hotter’n hell together, Trace.”

  They moved as if they were meant to make love underwater, the sensation of the jets making them both hotter with every thrust.

  “This is even better than bathtub sex,” she gasped.

  “More room and the bubbles are sin in a bucket.” he said.

  He brought her to the edge of satisfaction several times before she tangled her hands in his hair and whispered his name. “Trace, please, darlin’.”

  “Right now?” he asked.

  “Yes!”

  One more hard thrust and she leaned backwards so far that her hair touched the water behind her. She hadn’t even realized that he’d removed the clamp and taken out the ponytail holder until she snuggled back into the crook of his neck and her hair fell around her face.

  That’s some hot damn sex when I don’t even know when he takes my hair down.

  Chapter 15

  Maddie nodded at Grandpa. Quietness fell over the house as everyone bowed their heads. Grandpa said a short grace and immediately the noise level went from dead silent to raising-the-roof clamor in two seconds.

  Maddie nudged Gemma with her elbow.

  “Come on over here. We’ll let the noisy bunch have the table and you and I’ll sit at this card table right here. I need to hear more about this cowboy you’ve been keeping company with. I looked him up and found out that his father is a lawyer and his mother is a judge. How in the world did he ever get into ranching and rodeo?”

  “His Uncle Teamer is a rancher and all three of his cousins are ranchers.”

  Gemma’s father, Cash, yelled from the end of the big dining room table, “How do the cowboys take a cowgirl giving them such rugged competition?”

  “They don’t like it a bit,” Gemma answered.

  “Well, you keep showin’ them who’s boss.” Cash chuckled.

  Gemma nodded. “Momma, this is wonderful chicken and dressing.”

  Maddie buttered a hot roll and asked, “Do those cowboys treat you with respect?”

  “If they don’t, they don’t live to ride the next time.” Gemma laughed.

  Cash yelled across the din again, “That’s my girl. She’s right, Maddie. This is damn fine dressin’.”

  Dalton, one of Ace’s younger brothers, joined Maddie and Gemma at their table. “I hear you are giving Trace Coleman a run for his money. Did he think he could just waltz into the rodeo scene and steal the whole show?”

  Gemma smiled. “He’s not all that egotistical, but I’m going to win.”

  “That sounds pretty egotistical to me.” Dalton grinned.

  Gemma slapped him on the arm and kept eating.

  He grabbed his bicep and pretended to grimace. “She hit me. She’s mean, Maddie.”

  Maddie smiled. “Children, you are
supposed to behave at Sunday dinner. After dinner you can go out to the horse barn and duke it out, but be nice at the dinner table. I’m finished, so I’m going to go cut the pies and get out the ice cream for the cobbler.”

  “Need some help?” Dalton asked.

  Maddie stood up and laid a hand on Dalton’s shoulder. “Thank you, but Ace came over before church this morning and helped get the ice cream ready. We made it by his momma’s recipe using peaches instead of bananas since they’re in season right now.”

  “Does Trace Coleman raise horses or just cattle out there in the Panhandle?” Dalton turned back to look at Gemma.

  “I have no idea and I’m tired of hearing about, talking about, or listening to people discuss Trace Coleman. I’m the one who is home.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Guess you got a soft spot where that rough old bronc rider is concerned.”

  “He’s just a cowboy like all of you,” she said.

  Maddie sat back down in her chair. “When she wins the title and the money in Vegas she’s going to buy her own piece of land. I’ve got one picked out between us and Henrietta that she’s going to fall in love with the minute she sees it.”

  “I’ll pick out my own land when I win!” Gemma exclaimed.

  “Well, it just now went on the market and I told Willard Dean that you might be interested so he’s holding it until you win. I haven’t got a problem with you fallin’ for that cowboy, Gemma, but you will live around here when you settle down.”

  “And if I don’t?” Gemma asked.

  “Marry Dalton,” Maddie said.

  “That could be arranged.” Dalton grinned. “I’ve always had a thing for older women.”

  “Ouch!” Gemma grabbed her heart as if he’d stabbed her.

  “Want me to drop down on my knee right now? That way I’d get the woman and the ranch I’ve been wanting to buy for over a year. I went out to Willard’s yesterday and gave him a bid, but he said he was under a verbal contract until December. You win. You buy the ranch and marry me and we’ll live happily ever after.”

  “You are crazy.” Gemma laughed.

  “Hey, Dewar, how long are you going to let your sister live in your house?” Dalton yelled above the noise.

  “Until I find a wife. They say no house is big enough for two women.” Dewar laughed.

  “That settles it.” Gemma laughed. “I can be there until hell freezes over because Dewar is one of those bad boys. He’s not husband material.”

  “Oh, finish your dinner,” Maddie grumbled. “Granny’s been talking about you coming home all week so we can play and sing. But put this in your pipe, young lady: you are not getting married to a cowboy who lives that far away. I’ll sabotage the whole thing if I have to. Dalton, don’t take your offer of marriage off the table before December.”

  “Ain’t got a woman in mind right now and I’ll gladly marry Gemma to get Willard’s place. Then when she dies I’ll still be young enough to get me a trophy wife to strut around Montague County with.” He laughed.

  “Good Lord! You are planning my marriage and my funeral all at one time.” Gemma groaned.

  “Well, you are the older woman. You are at least five or six years older than me so you should die before me,” Dalton said. “Maddie, did you say there was peach cobbler to go with that ice cream? I was thinking of another helping of chicken and dressin’, but if there is cobbler, I’m holding out for dessert.”

  “There’s pecan pie and peach cobbler. And when is Colleen getting here anyway? I know you made that cobbler and ice cream special for her, Momma.” Gemma pointed to the bowl in front of Maddie.

  “Colleen called at midmorning and said they were running late. Something about packing up the carnival this morning. Anyway, she’ll be here in a few more minutes. She said twelve thirty at the latest but not to hold dinner for her,” Maddie answered and held a spoonful of ice cream toward Gemma. “Taste this. It’s always better after it sets up. Just think, you could have this every summer if you marry Dalton, because his momma has the recipe.”

  Gemma had no choice but to open her mouth. “Y’all are crazy. I’m not engaged to Trace Coleman. He hasn’t even mentioned marriage, so wiggle around in that seat, Momma, and get your panties out of that wad they’re in.”

  Before Maddie could scold her, Colleen and Blaze rushed inside the house.

  “We’re here! And Dewar, if you ate all my ice cream, I’m going to whip you all over this yard,” Colleen said.

  “Can I sell tickets to the show?” Austin asked.

  Colleen stopped long enough to hug her and headed straight for the kitchen.

  Gemma pushed back her chair and followed Colleen into the kitchen. “You look good, girl.”

  Colleen gave her a quick hug on the run. “So do you! I’m starving. I’ll catch the rest of you later, but if I don’t eat I’ll faint plumb away. That man out there didn’t give me anything but cold funnel cakes for breakfast this morning.”

  “She’s not telling the whole truth and nothing but the truth. And where is Trace Coleman? I heard he might be here,” Blaze called out.

  “He’s not here and Gemma is going to marry Dalton and buy Willard Dean’s ranch,” Maddie said.

  The whole dining room went silent.

  “Maddie is teasing,” Dalton said. “I couldn’t marry Gemma. Lord, that would be like marryin’ up with my older sister.”

  “I can see I’ve missed something.” Blaze headed for the kitchen. “Hey, don’t you eat all that dressin’, woman. I’ve been waitin’ a whole week to get at your momma’s chicken and dressin’.”

  Colleen slung her natural burgundy-colored hair over her shoulder and grinned at her husband. “You’d better hurry up then. And if any of the rest of you want some more dressin’, you’d best shove your way to the buffet because when this man gets started, there won’t be anything left.”

  Gemma went back to the dining room and touched her sister-in-law, Liz, on the shoulder. “You done eating?”

  Liz stood up. “Sure am.”

  “Let’s go on outside and tune up the Dobro and fiddle, then,” Gemma said.

  “I’m ready.” She pushed back an empty ice cream bowl.

  Leaving the air-conditioning for outside was like stepping from a freezer into a bake oven. By the time she and Liz reached the shade tree where the chairs were set up with the instruments, Gemma’s thin cotton blouse hung limp and stuck to her sweaty body.

  “It’s too hot to play out here. The instruments shouldn’t even be sitting in this heat. We need to take this inside,” Gemma said.

  “Maddie says we’re playing outside and Granny has looked forward to it all week. And we only brought the instruments out just before you drove up. It’s hot, but it’s coming out of the cool into it that is a bitch. You’ll adjust. Besides, you can’t tell me you haven’t been hot this month, but I got to tell you, Maddie is going to be cussin’ mad if there’s something serious going on with that Trace Coleman. She’s working an angle to get you to buy a ranch close to Ringgold so you’ll be tied to the area. She says she’s not losing you.”

  Gemma sighed.

  “Pretty obvious, wasn’t she, with all that talk about marrying Dalton? If he was any other cowboy but Dalton Riley, he would have been embarrassed to the bone, but he played along with the joke pretty damn good.” Liz laughed.

  Gemma picked up the Dobro and sat down. Her thighs stuck to the metal chair with a fine layer of sweat as she strummed down across the strings, made adjustments to tune the instrument, and strummed again.

  Liz positioned her fiddle on her shoulder and ran the bow down the strings, made an adjustment, and tried again. “She’s been like a cat in hot water ever since you told her about being drugged and sleeping in Trace’s trailer. He’s got a reputation like Blaze had, you know?”

&nbs
p; “For what? Being a good bronc buster and bull rider?”

  Liz sat down beside Gemma. “No, for womanizing. How is he in bed?”

  Gemma blushed. “Reputation don’t always tell the truth.”

  “You aren’t going to answer me, are you?”

  “Y’all girls gettin’ it all ready?” Granny joined them.

  “Saved by the bell.” Liz laughed.

  Granny chose the mandolin that afternoon and ran through a few chords on it with Liz and Gemma following her lead. Raylen joined them next and picked up a second violin.

  “Okay, before they all get here give me some ‘The Devil Went Down to Georgia,’” Granny said.

  “You always ask for that.” Liz grinned.

  “And I always will. Someday one of you is going to make a mistake and I’ll declare one of you the best fiddler in the state, but I got to hear it every time so I can be sure it’s still a tie.”

  Granny pointed at Gemma. “And you come sit by me while they’re fiddlin’.”

  Gemma moved down two chairs and fast fiddling music drifted out across the whole ranch.

  Granny patted her on the shoulder. “I told Maddie to let you make your own decisions about where you might settle down and who you will marry or else she’ll regret the whole thing in years to come.”

  “It’s not serious, Granny,” Gemma said. “Momma doesn’t need to be trying to buy a ranch for me or worrying about me getting married. I swear, she’s got wedding bells on the brain.”

  “Honey, she’s been scared out of her mind about this new feller. She says she hears it in your voice and she ain’t wantin’ both of her daughters to run off to the Panhandle. I ain’t never seen her act like this neither.”

  “I don’t know what she thinks she’s hearing, but all I’ve got on my mind is winning this bronc busting event in Vegas,” Gemma said.

  Before the song ended the yard had filled up with folks—some picking up instruments, some sitting on quilts. Some leaning against the trees.

  Granny yelled out, “Bill Bailey,” and they all started playing at the same time.