Pumpkins, Cowboys & Guitars

by Patti Ann Colt

  “Help me.”

  She unbuttoned the blue cotton shirt while his hands slipped under her t-shirt and massaged her back. Her eyes feasted on his bare chest, her hands doing a happy stroke up his warm skin and back around, testing muscles and savoring.

  She didn’t fuss when he eased her t-shirt up over her head, wanting to feel her breasts brushing against the warmth of his chest. She celebrated the swift intake of his breath when their skin molded together.

  She laid her hands against his heart and savored the pounding there. His hands stroked her back, up and down, over and over, soft strokes, then harder. The shivers started with the upward slide and intensified when he slipped his hands underneath the waistband of her shorts and brushed his fingers across her bare hips.

  She met his mouth somewhere between the sigh of that skin-to-skin contact and sweet heat of lips.

  Shane nibbled his way across her mouth and down her neck.

  If it wasn’t the most unladylike thing, she’d say she was panting.

  “Shane?” She was about to suggest the bedroom.

  He had other ideas.

  He shifted them both until he was lying on top of her. “This is much better.” He took her mouth in a definite desire to consume and bedroom thoughts flew out with the surge of need. Sofa would work. Sofa would be marvelous.

  She traced the shape of his mouth with her tongue and rejoiced in his shudder. Then his tongue played her game forcing a moan. She was melting, losing what little control she had. She swept her hands over his back and was frustrated to be obstructed by his shirt.

  “Clothes. Off.” My God, she was panting!

  “You first. I’ll help.”

  “God, Shane. Hurry up.” He rose up and grabbed the waistband of her shorts and pulled. A quick look of surprise crossed his face to find no underwear. He grinned like a pirate with the richest booty.

  He rose to his feet and before she could enjoy the view or get any semblance of control back, he’d shucked his clothes and settled back on top of her. She wiggled and spread her legs, settling him against the ache. One part of her worried about how desperate she was and the other told her not to give a damn.

  “Hold it right there, honey. I’ve got things to do, lips to kiss and breasts to suck before you get the prize.”

  “I’m dying, Shane. Get inside me. Suck later.”

  “Die harder, baby.” He slid down a bit, shifting the steel of his erection away from her hot center and she let out a small scream of frustration.

  He chuckled softly and settled his warm mouth over her left breast and pulled gently on her nipple with his teeth.

  Fire flashed over her, leaving her hovering on the edge. She slipped her fingers into his hair and pushed back against the completion. She wasn’t going to come without him inside her. She held his head while he suckled each nipple, knowing damn well that each pull was making her crazy.

  Two could play that game. She stroked his back with lazy fingers and grazed across his hips until she could slip her hands between them. She cupped his hardness and basked in Shane’s tremors.

  He moved away from her breasts and spread kisses down to her navel and across her hip, forcing her to release him.

  “You did that on purpose.” She ran a finger across the muscles in his arm.

  He mumbled something that sound liked “you bet your ass” and forced her legs further apart. His mouth settled on her core with a fierceness that took her breath away. She dropped her hands and clutched the fabric of the sofa. Anything to keep her wits and not push over the edge without him. “Stop that, Shane.”

  “Let go, Kennie.”

  “Not without you.”

  He gave an exaggerated sigh and moved back up her body, making sure every part of him touched every part of her. He gave her a hard kiss, then entered her part way, pulled out, entered her further, pulled out, then pushed all the way to the hilt.

  She struggled for breath, squirming on the saggy sofa to accommodate him in every way. “You belong right here.”

  “God, I hope so.”

  She lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist and lifted against him, pushing him deeper.

  He cupped her face and kissed her, stroking his tongue against hers as if savoring the finest cake she could bake. Then he set a leisurely pace that pushed until she had no choice but to fall off to a place of deep burning pleasure. She wanted to stay there, searching for the pieces of her scattered existence to rebuild with Shane woven in her being. He lost control when she came and surged into her, setting a rapid, hard rhythm that culminated in his own moan of release. She was giddy with delight and couldn’t hide the grin.

  “I guess I’m forgiven.”

  She rubbed his back with leisurely strokes, then kissed his neck. “I believe you are.”

  He separated from her and rose, carrying her to bed. They turned off lights and television on the way and slept in each other’s arms. When she woke up in the morning, he still cradled her close in deep sleep.

  This man might be a keeper.

  ∞∞∞ ∞∞∞

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “Will you quit wiggling? Your worse than Jess and he’s the one getting married.” Ladonna O’Hare struggled to pin the orange rose boutonniere to Shane’s coat jacket.

  Although why they were putting on coat jackets when it was still fifty minutes until the ceremony and the temperature had yet to drop into the upper nineties, he could only guess.

  “Sorry, Mom.” Shane forced himself to settle. He’d been like this since waking up with Kendra. He was chafing against the flimsy structure of his life, a value system that had him questioning his every decision, and demon-riddled, guilt-filled memories.

  But there’d been no time to talk, no time to even offer the smallest tidbit of truth. She’d had a full day scheduled of baking and deliveries and he’d been needed to help set up for the wedding. His most important chore – to keep Jess from seeing the bride on their wedding day – was a failure.

  Amy Rose was barely coping with morning sickness and her parents had refused to come to the wedding. She’d needed Jess, and Shane wasn’t about to stop him based on some old, ridiculous superstition.

  “I’d like to take Amy Rose’s parents out behind the barn and have words with them. Can you believe hurting the girl that way over some ridiculous notion of what you think she ought to be doing?” His mother patted his lapels to make sure the rose was lying flat and not flopping around.

  “Their loss and our gain. Who is walking her down the aisle?” Shane ran a finger around his collar, hot even with the air conditioning running in the house.

  “Nick asked Amy Rose if she would let him. He made her cry, so I guess the answer was yes.” She dropped the florist box on the dresser in Shane’s old bedroom. “I’m going to go help her finish dressing and send Jess to you. Get him into his suit and jacket. The minister is here and we’re starting this right on time.”

  He saluted. “Yes, ma’am.”

  She kissed his cheek. “You’re sassing me.”

  “On the contrary, wouldn’t think of it.”

  She wiped a tear from her eye. “Always thought you’d get married first. Been wondering if you haven’t met someone.”

  He kept from giving himself away by a horse’s hair. “This is Jess and Amy Rose’s day, Mom.”

  “I know. A mother can dream, though.” She bustled out.

  Shane swiped up the dry cleaning plastic and put it in the trash. His old room hadn’t changed that much. The same double four-poster bed was by the window with Grannie Tilly’s green wedding quilt spread across it. The western scene painting he’d bought his mom four Christmases ago hung on the pale white wall. The floor-to-ceiling pine bookcases had a bunch of his old paperbacks and his high school prom picture with Diana Bell, coincidentally the maid of honor.

  “She’s eating crackers and says she’s better.” Jess came in the room and pulled his tie from the bedpost. “Let’s get this thing done befo
re she gets sick again.”

  Jess had showered and shaved. He had already donned his blue suit pants and white shirt. He tied the knot in his gold silk tie with practiced efficiency and focus. “I’d like to kill her parents, but thank God Nick came to the rescue. Don’t know what he said to her, but he got her all sappy and made it okay. I owe him.”

  Shane settled on the bed while Jess rolled down the sleeves on his white shirt and inserted the gold horseshoe cuff links Amy Rose had bought him. “I’d like to say I’m surprised, but I’m not. Seems like her whole life everything has been about them and what they wanted, not her.”

  “Damn right. That stops now. I almost lost her because I was being stupid and that isn’t happening ever again.”

  Shane looked down at his feet, mired in the same problem with Kendra. “I need to talk to you.” There he’d said it.

  Jess shrugged into his jacket, his face a stunned incredulous. “Now?”

  Shane rose and straightened the collar on the jacket. “No, not now. In a few days. I’ve got a problem with Kendra. I don’t know what to do.”

  “Finally, he asks. Your timing sucks, but this time I’ll hold you to that. Tuesday we have a doctor appointment and Dad’s handling the ranch so I can have a couple days off. Meet me at the barn with coffee. Wednesday? We’ll talk.”

  Something loosened inside. “Yeah, I’m off. I’ll be there. Barring another bad fire.”

  Jess buttoned his coat. “I’m ready. Let’s go.”

  “Not without your boutonniere. Mom will kill me. Not that I think I can pin the damn thing on without poking you.” He pulled the florist box with Jess’s name on it and handed it to him. “Let’s go find Aunt Fayrene and let her do the honors.”

  “You have the ring?”

  Shane patted his pocket. “Uh— maybe.”

  Jess took a deep breath and turned slightly green, before giving Shane a chastising look. “Don’t do that.”

  Shane shrugged. “It’s right here. Grandma Delaney’s wedding ring isn’t likely to be something I’d lose. Amy Rose is special, Jess. Glad she’s going to be my sister.” Shane gave his brother a hug.

  “Thanks, man. She’s one of a kind.”

  “For you, maybe. I have my own one-of-a-kind.” If she ever spoke to him again after she realized the volumes of information he’d omitted from his background.

  “Where’s Dad?” Jess pulled on the sleeves of his suit and ran a finger around the neckline of his shirt.

  “Outside making sure everything is ready to go.” Shane followed Jess to the family room. The grandfather clock chimed the half-hour as they entered the room. The room buzzed with the noise of wall-to-wall family, aunts and uncles, cousins, and neighbors. Sully came forward and shook Jess’s hand.

  “Thirty minutes and you’re a married man. Time to back out.”

  “Not a chance. Where is Aunt Fayrene or your mother?”

  “Sitting over in the corner with the reverend and your dad.” Jess took the floral box from Shane and plowed through the family to get to the corner.

  “You had to say it, didn’t you?” Shane couldn’t quite keep the disgust from his voice.

  Sully pulled back, obviously affronted. “Joking, man. I know how Jess feels about her. I even told him to follow her and marry her. I don’t want to get married. Never said anything about y’all.”

  Shane rubbed his forehead, willing time to move so they could get this over with. “Sorry. Amy Rose is sick. Parents wouldn’t come. She needs to know this family is behind her. And I obviously have no sense of humor today.”

  Sully unbuttoned his jacket. “I’m sorry, too. Why did Jess want my mother?”

  “Boutonniere 101.” He glanced across the island into the kitchen. The three-tier wedding cake, with Amy Rose’s burnt orange and yellow colors, sat in the middle of the counter, surrounded by food.

  Sully followed his glance. “Even with those temporary awnings over the patio, it’s too hot out there to let food sit. Cake especially. It’ll melt. We’ll move it after the ceremony. I brought Fancy and Jim from the restaurant to help. We were outside with your dad to add the flower arrangements to the tables so they don’t wilt before we get started.”

  “Thanks, Sully. I know Amy Rose and Jess appreciate it. So does Mom.”

  Fancy came to Sully with a problem with the tables and Shane made his escape, needing to find the minister and pay him. He caught sight of the backyard through the glass windows and paused.

  Gifford joined him. “Looks like a wedding is about to happen.”

  “Better be. We all worked our asses off.” Shane had mowed the lawn this morning around the patio. His father had been watering for the week to turn the grass slightly green for the wedding. Mid-week his dad, Uncle Carter and several neighbors had built the gazebo his mother had always wanted near the edge of patio for their annual fall harvest party. But instead of decking it out with orange and black, this shimmered with white silk drapes expertly woven around the posts and intricate trim, white lights, and orange and yellow roses.

  “Tell me about it.” Gifford rubbed his shoulder. The patio was covered with two temporary awnings. Gifford with his brothers, Haine and Cooper, had helped six other neighbors erect them. Then they’d hauled chairs and tables borrowed from the church. The brothers had pitched in to help get evening chores with the cattle and horses finished early.

  His mother, aunts and Sully’s sisters had placed the tablecloths and centerpieces. A woman from church was catering the food and was waiting on the front porch until everyone had been seated to take over the kitchen. Two other friends had cleaned the house to Better Homes and Gardens standards. The flowers and cake were delivered, the bar stocked. The place had been a mad house, and yet he had to admit it looked enchanting and worthy of a beautiful bride.

  “I’ll catch up with you later. I’m supposed to find out where the heck Brooke and Lucas are. Mom doesn’t know they aren’t here yet. Driving in from Dallas and got caught in traffic. Don’t tell her.” Gifford wandered through the crowd in the opposite direction from his folks.

  “Looks pretty good, doesn’t it? Think Amy Rose will like it?” Jess slipped up beside him.

  Shane clasped Jess on the shoulder. “I think all Amy Rose cares about is the ‘I do,’ but yeah, I think she’ll love it. Let me get a couple things taken care of, then we’ll get these people seated and get you two married.”

  Jess took a deep breath and glanced back toward the bedrooms. “Let’s.”

  True to his word, Shane paid the minister and found the photographer, who was already snapping pictures of the setting. Formal portraits would be taken after the ceremony, since Amy Rose had been too sick before. He made his way to the back bedroom to make sure the bride was almost ready before getting the guests out in the heat.

  Diana opened the door at his knock and stepped out. She looked beautiful in a burnt orange strapless dress with her brunette hair swept up into an elaborate tangle of curls. She raised on tiptoes of obnoxiously high heels and kissed his cheek. “Hey, mister. She’s almost ready. Holding up pretty well considering she feels horrible.”

  Once upon a time, around eighth grade, he’d had a thing for Diana. It hadn’t lasted, though, and by high school they’d been only good friends. Attending prom together had been defense against someone who’d hurt Diana badly, name unknown. “You look beautiful.”

  “Why thank you, kind sir.” She gave him a sassy grin, but her sad eyes gave a conflicting message.

  Shane took her hands and squeezed gently. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. It’s fine.”

  “Liar.”

  She chewed her lip and looked away. “No time to talk.”

  He tipped her chin back to him. “Agreed. Soon.”

  “Yeah, you look like you need a confidant, too. Let’s meet for dinner sometime when all this family isn’t around.”

  Shane stopped to consider how Kendra might feel about a one-on-on meet with Diana and knew he had to say no
. She didn’t know Diana yet and would likely skin him alive. He skirted the question by not answering. “We’re ready to start seating everyone.”

  “Is Nick back? He went home to change and I have his tie.” She handed him another orange paisley tie similar to his own.

  “How many of these did my mother buy? Never mind. I haven’t seen him, but I’ll check. I’ll send Dad and Nick back when we’re ready.”

  Shane went back to the kitchen. Nick was coming in the back door, blue suit, no tie.

  Shane went to him. “Thanks for doing this.”

  “My pleasure.” He took one look at the orange tie in Shane’s hand and grimaced. “Maroon is more my color. I’m a Texas A & M fan, remember?”

  “Tell my mother, the diehard University of Texas follower.”

  “Uh, that would be no. Not today.” He took it out of Shane’s hand and looped it around his neck. “The things we do for these women.”

  “Don’t I know it.”

  “Worth every minute.” Nick grinned.

  “I don’t know what you said to Amy Rose, but thanks.”

  He shook his head and tied the knot in a few quick moves. “No thanks necessary. Weddings are big deals to girls. Where’s Jess?”

  “In the mass of humanity in the family room with Dad, I believe. Where’s Peyton?”

  “Drove in behind me. He’s parking.”

  “I’m about to get the seating started. Let me find Gifford, Cooper and Haine to help. You stay here. I’m sending my parents and Jess your way. I’ll be back.”

  He left Nick straightening his tie and got things in motion. The music started. Guests seated themselves. The wedding party took over the kitchen. Check, check, check.

  Fifteen minutes later, they were ready and it was a good thing. Jess looked like he was about to grab the bride and make a run for it.

  “Let’s do this, please,” Jess murmured to Shane.

  His dad stepped forward and gave Jess a hug. “Love you, son. We’ll see you outside.”

  “Thanks, Dad.”