Southern Charm : A BWWM Cowboy Romance

by Tiana Cole

  “Okay. Oh, a deputy dropped this off for you. He said the sheriff said to make sure you got it back safely. What’s in there that is so important?” Cecilia asked, trying not to be nosy but unable to help it, tossing him the envelope. He caught it in midair and smiled down at it.

  “Just a few things I had in my hand when Barbara attacked me. Come on, let’s go home,” he reached out for her hand with the one not holding the sealed bag, and she hated that he didn’t open it. She didn’t know why, but she was desperate to see what he was hiding in there.

  Cecilia eyed him suspiciously, wondering if there was something in the envelope he didn’t want her to know about or if he really was just eager to get home. It wasn’t like him to hide things from her. He must just be tired. She finished up at her desk and stood up, taking his proffered hand in her own.

  “Alright, boss. Let’s go,” she told him.

  Walking arm in arm toward the house, he began telling her about how he had been forced to chase several head of cattle across a back pasture on foot and ended up rolling down into a ravine.

  “Ah, so that’s why you’re so dirty.” She smiled up at him. He chuckled with her, but she didn’t miss the slight wince as they walked toward the main house.

  Looking at him more closely, she could see the unmistakable bruising and scratches on his arms where he had tried to stop his descent through the bramble that was common on the slopes off the hillside below the flat top of the area in question.

  “I finally stopped when I bounced off the old metal trough. It was full from the recent rain, so it sloshed all over me when I hit it,” he laughed again, but Cecilia just shook her head at him.

  “Good grief! But you aren’t that wet or muddy. How did you manage all that and stay as clean you are?” she marveled, picking at a few spots of dried mud that still clung to him.

  “I didn’t. I ran up to the house and cleaned up before I came down to the office,” he told her.

  “You better not have tracked mud all over the house, Jack Mayhew!” She scolded him with mock severity, making him laugh again.

  “I didn’t. I stripped down on the back porch before going inside,” he said with a smirk.

  “Giving the farm hands a show now, are you?” She teased back, but the thought of him stripping naked was in her head now, firing the ever present desire from embers into a full blown inferno.

  “I tried, but none of them seemed remotely interested in my white legs,” he laughed again, and despite the dust, threw an arm around her waist, giving it a slight squeeze.

  “I love your white legs,” Cecilia told him.

  “I love your brown legs,” he said in return.

  By the time they made it inside the door of the house, they were all over one another. Jack pushed her up against the back of the front door, kissing her passionately and she wrapped her legs around him. She loved the way his hardness felt pressed against her as his tongue twirled lazily with hers. He pulled away, scooping her up into his arms and carrying her to their bedroom where he began slowly undressing her.

  “Fuck me, Jack. Just throw me across the bed and pound me,” she moaned.

  He didn’t hesitate, ripping off the last remnants of her clothes and flipping her over onto her stomach. She could hear the sound of his belt coming off and his zipper coming down. Then he was pushing her legs apart, his rough hands digging into her ass as he pulled her toward the edge of the bed and plunged into her pussy. She let out a loud cry as he entered her forcefully, moving in and out of her with deep, hard strokes.

  She continued to gasp and cry out, enjoying his rough handling, her body jerking back and forth with the strength of his movements. The headboard clanged loudly against the wall with every powerful thrust.

  The room was quiet except for the sound of the animal noises they emitted as their skin slapped together seductively. The sex was loud and violent, just as Cecilia had wanted. Though she loved their soft, slow lovemaking, there was also a part of her that really enjoyed things just like this. She couldn’t get enough of the way he never held back when she wanted him to take her. Their sex was loud and violent, just like she desired.

  Jack showed no signs of letting up, continuing to drive into her time and time again, enjoying the sound of her moans and cries growing louder.

  She knew that was a real turn on for him, and she never had to fake the sounds he elicited from her willingly. Climax was so close now. Any moment, her body was going to explode with fireworks of ecstasy. She was caught by surprise when he suddenly flipped her over, never missing a stroke as he continued to pump into her with enough force to make her teeth clatter. There was nothing gentle about this tryst. It was passionate, animalistic sex. God, she adored it!

  Jack suddenly brought his hands down on either side of her head, looking deeply into her eyes as he continued to fuck her. She closed her own, enjoying the way he felt inside of her.

  “No, open your eyes, Cecilia. Look at me,” he told her, his voice husky and dark, adding another layer of pleasure. She did as he asked. “That’s my girl. Don’t take your eyes off of me.”

  His skin glistened with sweat, making him look even sexier than usual. His power and his masculinity had always been something that had drawn her to him. Watching him grinding into her, their skin tones contrasting visibly as his light disappeared into her darkness, was just one more of the turn-ons that made him incredibly sexy to her.

  Flames engulfed her body, setting her on fire as feral butterflies banged heavily around in her stomach. Suddenly, the flood gates opened. Cecilia dug her nails heavily into his back, causing him to cry out as she came forcefully, her legs shaking with the release.

  Jack was right behind her, burying his rock-hard cock deep inside her and filling her with a thick stream of his own before collapsing against her on the bed. His head rested on her breasts, his cock still inside of her as they lay there in the aftermath of their passion.

  Being with Jack felt incredible. Whether they were making love softly and gently or fucking like rabbits as they had just done, there was always an incredible bond between them.

  “Let’s take a bath and then we’ll start dinner,” Jack told her, finally falling away to one side, idly tracing a single finger across her stomach and around the curve of her breasts.

  “I’ll start the water,” she cooed a moment later after her legs had stopped shaking. They still felt a little like jelly as she gave him another kiss, heading off toward the bathroom.

  Jack followed her in, leaning down to kiss her neck as she tested the water running into the tub. He picked up a bottle of bubble bath and began pouring a couple of capfuls. Soon, she was tucked between his legs, her head leaning back against his broad chest as his large hands slowly bathed her while he planted kisses down her neck, a favor that she was more than happy to return when he was done. As the water grew cool, they stepped out and dried off. Cecilia began to dress in a pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt, but Jack stopped her.

  “I’m feeling a little livelier now. How about we go out for dinner?” he asked.

  “Oh, Jack. I don’t want to have to get dressed and go all the way into town,” she replied, looking longingly at the comfy sweat pants.

  “We won’t. Let’s go down to that little Amish place down by the Anderson farm. It’s not far and they make everything from scratch,” he replied, and she perked with interest. Her stomach rumbled loudly in assent.

  “Oooh, I do love their peach cobbler, especially with a dollop of the homemade vanilla bean ice cream they serve on top of it,” she replied.

  “Yes, and they have a little band on Fridays, so we can dance.” He took both of her hands in his, shuffling slowly side to side in a parody of dance that had her chuckling right along with him.

  “I didn’t think the Amish listened to music or danced,” she corrected him with a laugh.

  “Well, they are no longer Amish, thus why they are running a modern restaurant miles away from any Amish village,” he replied
with a smile, and they still moved in tandem, swaying back and forth.

  “Ah, of course. That should have been obvious. I guess I’m still stuck on thoughts of afternoon delight," she said with a sideways grin.

  “Good. I must be doing something right,” he leaned down to give her a quick kiss, as if he had to, and as if he couldn’t stop himself.

  “You are doing everything right, my love,” Cecilia replied, stopping by to kiss him again on her way to the closet to find something to wear out to dinner.

  Chapter Eleven

  An hour later, they were on their way to the little Amish restaurant a few miles from the ranch. She had been there on several occasions for lunch. Because it was so close, it was a common spot for many of the ranch hands to eat lunch when they wanted a break from eating sandwiches and chips out of coolers in the back of their trucks.

  Though Jack’s grandfather had built a long pavilion to accommodate meals, few of them used it other than when he held ranch sponsored barbecues or other gatherings.

  “I’m going to gain ten pounds just eating this meal,” Cecilia laughed, looking down at the huge plate of food the waiter brought to her.

  “I’ll love you just as much when you are fat,” Jack joked, making her elbow him lightly in the ribs.

  “Yeah, right you will,” she laughed, taking a bite of the homemade chicken and dumplings on her plate. If getting fat meant she could eat food like this, she might have to reconsider her diet. Their food was absolutely delicious, but full of old fashioned lard and fresh butter. It wasn’t something she could eat on a daily basis, but the rare visit here and there was very much worth the calories.

  “Did you know that the pot roast recipe they use here is my mother’s?” He told her this fact as he forked in another large mouthful of his plate of food.

  “Really? How did that happen?” she asked. It was unusual for Jack to talk about his parents. Since she had known him, he routinely talked about his grandfather, but nothing about his mother or father except the unavoidable mention from time to time.

  Tommy had told her that it was a sore subject with him, and that they had died in an accident when he was a teen, but that was it.

  “Mrs. Johnston, one of the owners, was not raised Amish. She went to school with my mother. They were friends until . . . for a long time. Mom’s pot roast was always one of her favorites. She asked me if she could use the recipe here and I gave it to her,” he said simply, staring now at his plate, his expression suddenly serious.

  “That was nice of you,” she replied, hoping he would continue.

  “Well, she has always been very good to me,” he said, a hint of sadness in his voice.

  “I will have to try it next time,” she said.

  “Why wait? Here, have a bite,” he replied, scooping up a bite on his fork and offering it to her.

  Cecilia took a bite of the pot roast and smiled as she chewed. It was quite delicious. His mother must have been a wonderful cook. She found herself wondering, once again, what had happened to his parents and why Jack didn’t talk about it. It was odd to have known him for so long now and still not be aware of the answer to that question. In fact, she decided it was time to find out, but perhaps not tonight. His mood was too good to ruin with such a serious talk.

  “That is fantastic. She must have taught you to cook,” Cecilia said.

  “She did. I spent a lot of time in the kitchen with my mom when I was growing up.”

  “You grew up on the ranch with them?” she asked.

  “Oh, no. I grew up on the coast. I moved to the ranch with my grandfather when I was fifteen,” he replied, as he took another bite, chewing silently.

  Cecilia couldn’t help but note that he seemed to leave out the reason he had moved there, which would have been that his parents died. Once again, it was if he avoided it at all costs, just as he had earlier in the comment about her friendship with Mrs. Johnston. She knew that his grandfather that had owned the ranch was on the maternal side, so she could only assume that his mother had grown up here. Mrs. Johnston must have traveled to see her from time to time after they were adults. It was just a tiny piece in what seemed to be a large puzzle.

  “How was everything?” the waitress asked as she cleared away their plates once they were done with their meal.

  “Divine, as always,” Jack replied. “Can you bring us two slices of peach cobbler a la mode? Mrs. Johnston was making one special just for us.”

  Cecilia looked at him quizzically. When had he called ahead to order cobbler? Perhaps he had done it while she was getting dressed. Seemed like an odd thing to call ahead for, but she had mentioned that he liked it, so maybe he had just wanted to make sure it was available. He was always way more thoughtful than any man she had ever been involved with, so that wasn’t unusual for him.

  “This is sooo good,” Cecilia said breathlessly as she took a bite. In all honesty, she wasn’t sure she could even finish it. She was already stuffed from the meal itself. Still, it was way too good to not eat. She envisioned herself having to be carried out after all she would have eaten by the time they left the restaurant.

  “I feel like I’m about to pop,” Jack said, apparently just as full as she was.

  “Me too. Dancing might not be in the cards for tonight,” she laughed.

  “You may be right, but at least we can sit and listen. They should be started their first set on the back patio by the time we finish with our dessert,” he said.

  “As much as I hate to leave so much of it, I may be finished with mine already,” she laughed.

  “Yeah, me too. Let’s see if we can grab a couple of after dinner drinks and kick back out there,” he told her. She nodded as he summoned the waitress over and asked her to transfer their ticket and a couple of drinks to an outside table. After a quick check with the hostess for available seating, she returned and led them out to a small, secluded table. Once she was seated, Jack excused himself to the restroom as she sat watching the band that was still setting up.

  Cecilia was surprised that there was no one else out here. It was a Friday and the weather outside was beautiful. You would think more people would take advantage of it. The band began to play a soft melody that she had only heard once before. It was an old song that she had run across at Jack’s house called, Sweetheart, I Love You, an old nineteen thirties classic that he said his grandmother had loved and that his grandfather played from time to time to remind him of her. How odd that they should play it here.

  “Cecilia?” Jack said quietly, his voice raw with emotion and shaky with the hint of nerves.

  She turned to see him standing beside her, smiling. Slowly, he slipped down onto one knee and looked up at her. It took a moment to realize what was happening as he reached for her hand and slipped what must be a four carat engagement ring on her finger. There was a huge knot in her stomach and her heart beat wildly as she looked from her hand into his eyes.

  “I love you so much, Cecilia. Will you marry me?” he asked.

  Cecilia sat quietly for a moment, looking stunned. Marriage wasn’t something she had even considered. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to get married or that she didn’t want to marry Jack; it just wasn’t something she had put much thought into.

  They had been so busy with his getting well and so busy with the ranch that it hadn’t been on her mind. Snapping out of her thoughts, she realized he was still looking at her expectantly, with perhaps a little fear in his eyes since it was taking her so long to answer him.

  “Yes! Oh, God, Yes!” she said, lunging forward and kissing him. He pulled her to her feet and close to him, leading her onto the dance floor as the music continued.

  They continued to dance and kiss until the end of the song before returning to their table to the glasses of champagne that had been delivered for them. The band picked up with more lively music as other people began to be seated on the patio.

  Cecilia realized that Jack had planned it this way. Most women would have been hap
pier with somewhere more upscale for a proposal, but she realized that bringing her here where he could have his mother’s pot roast and listen to his grandmother’s favorite song from a live band had been his way of bringing her closer to what he kept near and dear to his heart. It was far more touching than any venue for which he could have paid.

  She was surprised to find the ranch all lit up as they returned from their meal. The pavilion was crowded with the people who worked there and she could hear music and chatter coming from them as she and Jack stepped out of the truck. She looked at him and he just shrugged, flashing her a sheepish smile.

  “I take it that this is your handiwork?” she asked.

  “Yes ma’am. I’m really glad you said yes or this would have been a huge embarrassment,” he laughed, pulling her in for a quick, but fierce kiss, before pulling back again.

  “As if I could ever say no to such a handsome face,” she replied, slightly breathless, leaning against him as she walked around and put his arm about her waist.

  “She said yes!” he beamed, as they approached the rapidly silencing group.

  Just as quickly as the sound had died down while they approached, it erupted into loud cheers and whistles. People began coming forward to congratulate and hug them. Jack was well loved by his employees, as many of them were more friends than mere workers, and it was evident in the way they celebrated his happiness with him.

  Cecilia had felt a bit out of place when she had first come to the ranch, but they had accepted her the moment they saw that Jack was taken with her, and it had only become more evident that they saw her as family too during the struggles that had unfolded since then.

  She looked around at all the smiling faces, cheering and congratulating them and she felt her throat tighten as she became a little choked up. She looked up at Jack, and then back at her friends, her family, and had never felt more like she belonged somewhere.