“Is your dance calendar full, or can I ask for another?” he asked huskily.
“It’s got your name on every page, Raylen O’Donnell.” She locked gazes with him.
He tossed his hat on the bed and held her close as they danced around the big bed that beckoned to them both. It would be so easy to fall back on the bed and make love to her, but Raylen had other things in mind. When the second song ended, he led her to the heart-shaped tub and started running water. He picked up a jar of bubble bath, added a generous amount, and pulled her back into his embrace for another dance.
Oh, Becca, thank God you never found out what kind of man your best friend really is and what a romantic he is or you’d have wrangled him to the altar right out of high school, she thought.
The kiss at the end of the dance was so soft and sensuous that she felt as if she were falling off a tall building in slow motion. But she wasn’t afraid, because Raylen would be here to catch her.
“Are we planning on skinny-dippin’ in that big old tub?” she asked.
“Oh, yes, darlin’, but it will take a while to fill up,” he said.
Two songs later he turned off the water.
She pulled her shirt up over her head and he pulled it back down. “Let me.”
His touch on her skin as the clothing came off a piece at a slow time might not have boiled the lake and killed all the fish, but it damn sure could have turned the big heart into a hot tub.
When he finished he quickly tossed his clothing to one side and picked her up, holding her naked body tightly to his chest.
“I love you,” he said.
“And I love you,” she said.
He eased her into the bubbles and then joined her, pulling her into his lap and slipping his wet hands all over her body.
“You are so soft and beautiful,” he whispered.
Her soft skin was an aphrodisiac more powerful than anything pills or food could produce. He wanted to touch everything at once, and every time she gasped he was more and more aroused at his power over her body.
Her hands worked their way across the tight muscles on his chest and downward to his erection. He gasped when she touched him. He’d never get used to the sizzle that shot through him whenever she touched any part of his body.
“First time we did this in the shower, I couldn’t believe how sensual it was. This is even better.”
“Ready?” He kissed her long and hard.
“Oh, yeah.” She wrapped her arms around his back, and together they began a rocking rhythm. She’d never felt so uninhibited, so totally into sex, as she did right then. She had tunnel vision that had only one thing in sight and that was satisfaction when she reached the bright burning light at the end.
His mouth covered hers in a string of passionate kisses that fanned the flames and she gave herself absolutely and totally to him.
“Mercy!” he gasped when she started to do the work, bringing him right up to the edge of passion and then slowing down.
“Liz, you are really going to make this water boil,” he said.
“It was getting a little cold and we won’t kill any fishes,” she said.
Then suddenly they were working in unison and Liz couldn’t hold back another minute.
“Please, darlin’.” Her voice had more gravel and more intensity than he’d ever heard before.
“Welcome to Sinful Pleasure,” he said when he could utter a word.
“Can we stay forever?” she asked breathlessly.
Chapter 28
Raylen awoke before Liz the next morning. He propped up on an elbow and drank in her dark beauty against the gold satin. She slept on her side with one arm under the pillow. Her black hair fanned out everywhere, even covering her face. Lizelle Hanson belonged in a satin atmosphere, not wrapped in a quilt in a tack room. One day she’d realize that; he just hoped she was so much in love with him when she did that it wouldn’t matter what kind of sheets she and Raylen slept on. What mattered was what went on between them. He carefully pushed it back so he could see her delicate features.
She felt a touch and opened her eyes to see Raylen not a foot from her.
“Good morning, beautiful,” he said.
“I wasn’t dreaming,” she said.
“No, but you look like a dream.”
“Hold me until I get awake. Then can we take this out on the water and pretend we are the only two people in the whole world.”
He cradled her into his arms, her head resting on his shoulder and her hair tickling his nose. “We are the only two left. Last night the aliens came and took them all away.”
She giggled. “We’d better make the most of the day. My poppa and your granny and grandpa will wage a war and they’ll bring the population back by nightfall.”
He hugged her tightly. “Amen. Breakfast first?”
“Which is?” It was Sunday so her thoughts went to canned cinnamon rolls and bacon.
“It’s in the refrigerator and marked ‘breakfast.’ You cook and I’ll get the boat ready to move. We can eat on deck,” he said.
“I was dreaming about gold satin sex all day,” she whispered.
He ran his hand down her naked back. “Are you sure?”
She giggled and wiggled out of his embrace, pulling a gold sheet around her when she stood up, reminding him of an exotic statue in an Italian setting.
“Nice outfit there, Madam Whammy,” he said.
She did a few belly dance moves, but when she raised her arms, the sheet fell to the floor and she stood before him strip stark naked. “I’m going for a quick shower and then I’ll cook breakfast if the directions aren’t too tough.”
“Want some company in the shower?”
She put a finger on her chin. “Hmmm. If I get in the shower with you, this big old boat will never get out of the marina. Do I want you in the shower or do I want to putter about on the water?”
He chuckled. “Go take your shower, woman.”
She pointed at him. “Don’t boss me, Raylen.”
“Is that an order? Is the lioness cranky?”
“It’s an order and the lioness is cranky. She wants to kiss you until your brain goes to mush. She wants to roll around on that bed all day. But she wants to go out on the boat, and feel the wind in her face, and she can’t have both. So, she’s cranky. And besides all that, my breath is horrid after that champagne we had last night. While I was dancing, I breathed on your hat, and it almost shriveled up into nothing but a little pile of straw. I’m afraid to kiss you for fear it would fog your blue eyes.”
Raylen laughed. “You don’t have a bit of problem speaking your mind, do you?”
“No, I do not.” She disappeared behind the tiny bathroom door.
He slung his legs over the edge of the bed and got dressed. He’d love to rent the boat again next week, but Dewar, Cash, and Maddie had to be away from the ranch for a horse show in Conroe, Texas. So the best he could do that weekend was a late dinner date on Saturday night. Maybe he’d order takeout from that Chinese place in Bowie and rent a movie. After a weekend on the Sinful Pleasure, it would be a big letdown and he hoped Liz wasn’t disappointed.
Liz had finished a quick shower and wrapped a towel around her body when she heard the engine kick into gear and the boat begin to sway even more than it had all night. When she first saw the houseboat she’d had a moment of panic, fearing that she’d spoil Raylen’s beautiful plan, that the constant movement would make her queasy. She’d never been on anything bigger than a worn out old canoe, and that was with Blaze when they paddled out into the middle of the farm pond to fish for bass.
The gentle movement hadn’t been any worse than the travel trailer in a good wind storm. And Raylen’s strong arms around her had steadied the whole world. Now she was in love with the boat and wondered how much one cost. Maybe she’d put some of her money into one and she and Raylen could get away from the whole world several times a year. Only her houseboat was going to be named Madam Whammy.
&n
bsp; She dressed in jeans, boots, and a turtleneck sweater before she opened the refrigerator. Breakfast was in two aluminum pans with direction that involved preheating the small oven and cooking for twenty minutes. One container was marked quiche, the other cinnamon rolls. While the oven preheated, she read the rest of the instructions on the cinnamon roll pan: Serve with juice (in the door of the refrigerator) and coffee. Use tray in cabinet beside the stove if you are taking it topside.
“Well, duh! I thought I’d ignore the heat and take it up there without even a hot pad,” she grumbled.
She slid the food into the oven, made a pot of coffee, and removed two single serving bottles of juice. The boat moved slowly, leaving the noise and smells of a marina coming awake behind. She looked at the clock on the microwave: seven o’clock.
The last time she looked at the clock last night it had been well past midnight. As a carnie, she would have slept until midmorning. She poured a cup of coffee the minute it stopped dripping and backed up against the cabinet beside the tiny sink.
“I’m not a carnie anymore,” she whispered.
What do you want to be when you grow up? that niggling little voice in her head asked.
“I want to be a horse rancher,” she answered without hesitation. “I want to be a Maddie.”
“Do I hear talking down there? Are you fighting off aliens?” Raylen called down the hatch.
“No, the aliens are arguing with Poppa and your grandpa. They don’t have time to fight with me. They’ve got their hands full. I heard the engine. Are we on the way to the end of the world, where we’ll drop off into fantasy land?” she said.
“We went there last night,” he said.
She poured a cup of coffee and carried it up to him. “Kiss me, Captain Sexy Cowboy.”
She tiptoed and he leaned.
“I love you, Liz,” he whispered.
“You must. You didn’t throw me overboard when I was cranky. Is this thing on autopilot or something?”
He laughed. “No, and it’s time for me to get back to the wheel. Breakfast about ready?”
“Five minutes. We worked up a pretty damn good appetite, didn’t we?”
Raylen brushed another kiss across her forehead before he took over the wheel again. She went back to the galley, located the tray, and pulled the food from the oven.
“Juice and coffee on the tray. Two forks. Don’t have a rose in a vase,” she talked as she worked. She added the coffee pot and a couple of napkins, and carried it up to the deck.
The wind was still and the water was a mirror beneath them, barely leaving a wave in their wake as the boat inched along toward the bridge up ahead. She set the tray on the table and rushed back down to get her coat. Even though the sun was shining brightly, the temperature hovered around fifty degrees, and with the movement of the boat, that was downright chilly.
When she returned, the boat had come to a standstill and Raylen was sitting at the table. He’d removed the aluminum covers from the food and the aroma of sausage and eggs and cinnamon blended to make her stomach growl.
“Plates?” he asked.
“They’re down there, but…” She shrugged.
He picked up a fork and dug into the quiche. “Sharing, are we? This is good. Momma makes them sometimes for special breakfast.”
Liz dug to the bottom and blew on the steaming egg mixture before she put it in her mouth. She rolled her eyes. “God, that’s good. It beats the hell out of Blaze’s attempt to make it.”
Raylen smiled. “Try the cinnamon rolls.”
She did and moaned. “They’re as good as what they sell at the carnival.”
“Good as canned ones?” he asked.
“Oh, no! They are the best in the world. They mean the gig is up and it’s time to move to the next one,” she said.
“Then don’t ever serve them to me, Liz,” he said seriously.
“Why?”
“Because I don’t ever want this gig to end.”
She reached across the table and touched his hand. “Me either.”
He brought her fingertips to his lips and kissed them. Not proposing to her right then and there was the hardest thing he’d ever done.
***
They barely made it home Sunday night when the cars began to drive down the lane. The very first car load brought two elderly people who parked and headed for the barn. They were dressed in plaid men’s robes, belted at the waist and hanging to their ankles. Dark blue towels were held down on their heads with stretchy black headbands, but kinky gray curls had escaped around their ears.
“We didn’t have time to go home and change. We just came from a Christmas play at the church. Didn’t have enough men to be the shepherds so we stepped in. Hell, the congregation don’t know if they’re lookin’ at men or women by the time we get our towels on our heads and our Goodwill store bathrobes on,” one of them giggled.
Liz followed them into the barn. “Welcome to the Ringgold light show.”
“Would you look at that, Agnes? That’s the prettiest damn tree I’ve ever seen. Folks don’t use real ones much no more. And look at that angel up there. Can’t buy them like that no more. It’s an antique for sure.”
“Belonged to Uncle Haskell,” she said. “Aunt Sara liked Christmas and she must’ve had a lot of her decorations passed down by her parents because some of the stuff I found isn’t available in the stores today. But I love Christmas and I wanted to share it with everyone.”
“I knew I recognized that angel. It was Sara Hanson’s grandmother’s topper. I saw it once when I was a kid,” the tall shepherd said.
“Shit, Mavis, you can’t remember that far back.” Agnes slapped her playfully on the shoulder.
“Don’t be hittin’ on me, woman. Just because you’re two years younger than me and was Momma’s favorite don’t mean you can hit on me now,” Mavis said.
“You are sisters?” Liz asked.
“Hell, yeah,” Agnes said. “Oh, we forgot to tell you, we’re the judges for the Montague County contest. We are supposed to tell the folks when we first get there but sometimes we forget.”
“Don’t be usin’ that we word. You forget. I got my tally sheet right here under my robe.” Mavis pulled out a small clipboard from inside her robe and fumbled in her pocket for a pencil.
Agnes fished one from her pocket and handed it to Mavis. “Here’s one. See, she does forget.”
“Good damn thing we ain’t real shepherds, ain’t it? We’d be them kind that lose their sheep for sure.” Mavis giggled.
“If you don’t watch your foul talk, God is going to strike you graveyard dead. All dressed up like a shepherd that went to see the baby Jesus and talkin’ like a sailor.” Agnes frowned.
“Don’t you be bossin’ me around. I’ll talk anyway I damn well please. I was good up there on the stage with that squallin’ kid they got to be baby Jesus. Lord have mercy, but if I was him, I woulda squalled too. Havin’ to lay there in that straw in nothin’ but a blanket wrapped around him.”
Liz giggled.
“It’s the God’s honest truth, he was,” Mavis said.
“I don’t doubt it,” Liz said.
“We was so glad to be done with that play that we couldn’t get out of there fast enough. Next year somebody else can wear our Goodwill robes and our towels. We’re going to be on the refreshment committee.”
“I’m going back outside. You ladies call me if you need me,” Liz said.
“We’ll just take our notes and be gone. But honey, as far as I’m concerned, this is the biggest splash in the county,” Mavis said.
“Thank you. Don’t forget to get a candy cane.”
“We won’t. Agnes here does love candy canes. I swear she’s been sittin’ on Santa’s lap for ninety-two years just to get a damned candy cane. She says the ones at Christmas taste better than the ones you can buy any other time of year,” Mavis said.
“Ninety-one years. You can’t remember a damn thing,” Agnes said.
&nb
sp; Liz giggled. “See you outside. If you need anything holler at me.”
“Where’s your shepherds?” Raylen whispered.
“The world is a new place this year. They are women,” she whispered back.
“Cross-dressers in reverse?”
“You got it, darlin’, and the judges for the county decoration prize too, so be very nice to them,” she said.
Chapter 29
Monday morning started off with a bang. The electricity had blinked off during the night, and Liz woke up fifteen minutes late. Raylen had already gone, so she didn’t even get a good morning kiss, and when she got to work that morning, a dozen coffee drinkers followed her inside when she opened the door at exactly six o’clock. That meant she hit the floor in a dead run without even a second to get a cup of coffee.
By midmorning she was dragging and thinking about one of those crazy energy drinks that she’d seen advertised on television. She finally had time to pour a cup of coffee but barely got a sip before the door opened again.
“Wait,” Jasmine said. “That’s Lucy. She’ll come right back here.”
The woman was tiny, just over five feet tall and slim built. Her brown hair was pulled up in a ponytail, and her face round. But her eyes were enormous and stood out like the pictures of those little kids that were popular thirty years before. They were even lighter blue than a summer sky and much lighter than Raylen’s. When she smiled, they sparkled like diamonds.
“Hi, Jasmine.” Lucy went straight for the coffee pot and poured a cup. “You must be Liz. I’ve heard good things about you.”
“Well, with what I’ve heard about you, I expected you to be as tall as Austin and able to wrestle an Angus bull to the ground with your bare hands,” Liz said.
Lucy shook her head. “Not me.”
“What brings you out today? I haven’t seen you in a couple of months. I missed you, girl,” Jasmine said.
Darn Good Cowboy Christmas Page 29
