“Oh God, honey girl, open your eyes.”
The best she could do was crack the right one. As a result Mac’s face was a little blurry but she could still make out the worry in his eyes.
“Hi.” Her voice sounded as wiped out as she felt.
His hand touched her cheek. “Are you okay?”
Her smile probably looked as insubstantial as she felt. “I’ve never been better. Why?”
“You passed out.”
Hot Damn. She hadn’t even dared add that to her to-do list. “You made love to me until I passed out?”
“No. I fucked you into a stupor.”
She recognized that note in this voice. She forced both eyes open. They were so not going back to the “treat Jessie like a porcelain doll” routine. “You forgot to add ‘and you loved it’.”
His fingers grazed her breast. “I bit you.”
“Uh-huh.” She let her eyes drift shut and shivered with the memory. “That was an especially nice touch at the end.”
She could feel him staring at her. His hand gently cupped her breast. “You’re going to have a bruise.”
She wiggled her arm out from under her body to touch his cheek. “If you promise to be good and let me sleep, I’ll let you bite the other one.”
His frown turned into a scowl. “Damn it, Jessie. I lost control!”
By now, her smile was positively sappy. “I know. I can’t wait to do it again.”
“We are not doing that again,” he stated emphatically.
She ignored him. Summoning all the energy she had, she half-rolled, half-tossed herself onto his chest. He sighed and worked her the rest of the way on.
“I could have hurt you, Jessie.”
She shook her head. “You wouldn’t.”
“I already did.” His fingers skimmed her thighs. She imagined he was looking at bruises there.
“Mac?”
“What?”
“Stop whining and cuddle that big cock into me so I can go to sleep.”
“I do not whine.” His cock, still semi-hard, nudged her vagina. She relaxed her muscles as he forced it past the tight ring of muscle. She bit her lip at the burning pressure. She was raw and bruised, and she couldn’t be happier. She wanted more.
Mac pushed her hair off her face, took a look at her expression, and frowned, his hand on her hip stopping her from taking more. “Sore?”
She didn’t have the strength to argue with him. “Please?”
He stared at her a minute, sighed, kissed her forehead, and let her wiggle down on him. Finally, she had him as deep as she could, and sighed in relief. Mac curved his hand around her skull and tugged her onto the pillow of his chest before pulling the covers over them both, smoothing the sheet around her shoulders, and arranging the comforter. Silence reigned for a few minutes. She was almost asleep when his lips brushed her hair.
“After this you have to marry me. No woman not my wife is having bragging rights to shoving a vibrator up my ass.”
She smiled, patted one cheek of the ass in question and fell asleep.
Chapter Twelve
“If that man thinks I’m walking down the aisle next week with this thing on, he’s nuts,” Jessie muttered as she tried on her wedding dress for the final fitting in Granny Ortiz’s front room. She looked in the mirror again, experimenting with holding her arm close to her side, but it didn’t help. The dress was beautiful, Granny Ortiz’s offer to let her wear it, incredibly generous, but she still looked like heck in the older woman’s dress for the simple reason that the cast on her arm stuck out like a sore thumb. She fumbled with the lace on the full sleeve, but no matter how she tugged, the heavy cast drew the eye like a magnet. There was just no hiding the blasted thing. She tugged some more. “Damn!”
“What’s this?” Granny Ortiz asked as she walked into the room. “The bride in tears?”
Jessie sniffed and accepted the tissue handed her. There was something about Granny that drew Jessie. A love of life and the straightforward practicality she wanted to have when she was pushing ninety.
“Not really. It’s just I can’t hide this thing!” She shook the cast in the air like an obnoxious rat. “Your wedding dress is so beautiful and this monstrosity is ruining the whole effect.” She glared in the direction of the church across the street where Mac was. “It’s all that man’s fault. He couldn’t wait six weeks to get married. Oh no! He had to rush to squeeze it into three.”
Granny Ortiz smiled and folded her arms across her chest. “You know, you did have a say in this.”
Jessie snorted and glared harder, remembering how Mac had teased and tempted the agreement out of her. “Not much.”
Granny’s open grin pushed her face into a mass of wrinkles. “Waited until he got you in bed to press the point, did he?”
Jessie cut her a quick glance and then shook her head. “I don’t know why I’m still surprised when you say things like that.”
Granny shrugged her bird-like shoulders and adjusted the skirt of Jessie’s dress. “Neither am I. I may be old, but I’m not senile. I remember how things are between a man and a woman.”
Jessie looked down at Granny’s carefully coiffed head, touches of pink scalp peeking between the white curls. She bet the old woman had been a hellion in her day.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Granny stepped back and studied the fall of the sleeve, sparing her only the briefest of glances. “It still needs something.”
“A few more weeks until this cast comes off would be good.”
“Thought you said you weren’t getting more time.”
“I’m not,” Jessie called to the other woman’s back. “And for the reason you stated. The skunk seduced me into getting his way.”
“Well, that’s a street that goes both ways.” Granny rummaged in a drawer of the antique mahogany bureau. The scent of lilacs drifted into the room.
“I’m keeping that in mind.”
“See that you do.”
Jessie couldn’t help but grin wider at the sharp rejoinder. She hoped she had as much sass as this woman when she reached the age of eighty-eight.
“There it is,” Granny cried triumphantly. Reverently, she lifted a wrapped parcel out of the trunk.
Jessie crossed the small room, as Granny carefully unwrapped the package. When she got close enough to determine, she saw the old woman held a shawl in her hands. A shawl made of lace so fine it was a mere gossamer web of incredible beauty. “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life!” she whispered, awestruck.
“That’s what you said about the dress,” Granny reminded her as she draped the lace over the freshly wrapped cast.
“And it was, right up until I saw this.” She ran one finger reverently across the pattern which, on close inspection, matched the lace which fell from the throat of the Victorian-style wedding dress.
Granny Ortiz patted her hand. “As I told you, my husband was of Spanish decent. This mantilla was a gift from his mother. I was going to put it over your hair, but I think it’ll serve to cover that cast.”
“You’re being very kind to me.”
“That man of yours has always had a special place in my heart,” Granny said. “I’m glad to see he finally found someone able to go toe-to-toe with him.”
Jessie chuckled. “You make it seem like a boxing match.”
“Well, what with both your personalities, I imagine you’ll be sparring both in and out of bed, but don’t worry about it. All the best couples do.”
She took that dubious advice in stride. “Thanks.” She bit her lip. “You know I don’t have any family left, at least that I’m close to.”
“That I do, and a damned shame it is.”
Jessie’s lips twitched. “Well, I wondered if I might ask some advice.”
“Don’t tell me you and Mac have been living out at the ranch and he hasn’t bothered to instruct you in the way of things!”
“Things?”
“Betwe
en a man and a woman.” Granny Ortiz shook her head. “All the Hollister men are hot-blooded. I can’t believe Mac didn’t get his fair share of those genes.” She grabbed Jessie by the arm. “Well, come along, honey. Must be I misunderstood you earlier.” She patted her arm consolingly. “Don’t worry, though. It hasn’t been so long that I can’t instruct you right.”
It took everything Jessie had not to burst out laughing. “I think you should know that people of your generation are supposed to frown on premarital sex.”
“Posh. I grew up in the roaring twenties, and you young people have got a long way to go before you catch up to us. Now, sit down and pay attention.”
Jessie straightened her dress before sitting carefully beside the older woman. “Before you go any further, I think I should let you know that Mac got his fair share of the Hollister genes. And then some.”
“I knew I wasn’t wrong about that boy.” She laughed and nudged Jessie’s arm with her elbow. “And I bet you get down on your knees nightly and thank Him for that special blessing.”
Jessie blushed. She actually blushed. She struggled for a witty comeback, found none, and impulsively hugged the older woman instead. The old bones felt so brittle under her hands, reminding her how fragile life was. Tears washed her vision as she drew back to whisper, “Have I ever told you how grateful I am for the way you’ve welcomed me with open arms?”
Granny reached up and straightened one of the white rosebuds woven into the French braid of Jessie’s hair. Roses from her garden. “You made it an easy thing to do.”
Jessie shook her head. “No one has welcomed me the way this town has. It’s like coming home. For the first time since my mother died, I don’t miss what might have been.”
“Maybe you have come home,” Granny said seriously. “I’ve always believed in the homily, ‘Home is where the heart is’.”
Jessie glanced in the direction of the church where she knew Mac was talking with the reverend. “And my heart most definitely belongs here.”
“With Mac.”
“Yes.”
“Then, honey,” Granny Ortiz asked, her fingers touching Jessie’s, where they clenched in her lap, “why are you so nervous?”
“I don’t know,” she confessed, that hard knot of fear solidifying in her gut again. She frowned and her teeth sank into her lower lip. “No,” she sighed. “That’s not true. I do know. It’s Mac.”
“How so?” Granny moved to the wingback chair next to the bed. “My old bones aren’t what they used to be,” she explained. “Lately, they need a bit more support.”
Jessie waited until she was settled. “He’s changed.”
“Have you talked to Mac about it?”
“I’ve tried but…”
“He doesn’t want to hear about it,” Granny Ortiz finished for her.
“No. He’d rather just pretend that everything’s as it used to be before I broke my damned arm.”
“That’s another Hollister trait, ignoring reality in their personal lives.”
“Well, it’s not a particularly attractive one,” Jessie said with a wry grin.
Granny choked on her laughter. “At least you’re keeping your sense of humor about it all.”
Jessie stood. The satin skirt rustled as she crossed to the window. “Well, it’s not easy.” She moved the velvet drape aside and snorted in disgust. “How long have I been here?”
“Oh, I’d say about two hours.”
“Can you think of anything Mac could be discussing with Reverend Dwight for that long?”
“Nope, can’t say that I can, especially since those two rub each other the wrong way more often than not. Why?”
“Because despite the fact that Mac was supposed to just drop off the procession list and then head on back to the ranch to get some paperwork done before the rehearsal dinner tonight, his car’s still parked in front of the reverend’s house.”
“Maybe this is one of those occasions when they’re getting along.”
“I wouldn’t say so.”
Granny got out of the chair and joined Jessie at the window. She watched the two men talking on the porch for about two seconds before her hearty chuckle had the lace panels she clutched fluttering like a wave. “Nope. From the set of Mac’s shoulders, I’d say he’s holding on to his temper by a thread. Wonder why he just doesn’t make excuses like the rest of us do, when Dwight gets into one of his tirades?”
“Because then he wouldn’t have an excuse to hang around.”
“Does he need one?”
Jessie sighed and admitted wearily, “Yes.” She stared at Mac, sadness welling from a place deep within. “He’s smothering me, Granny, and I don’t know what to do about it.”
“And this has been going on since you broke your arm?” She held out her hand. Jessie took it and helped her back to the chair.
“Mac has always been caring.” She threw up her hands before turning around so Granny could unbutton the back of the dress. “It’s his nature to be protective, but before it was a consideration. Now, it’s an intrusion.”
She could feel the older woman’s fingers fumbling with the tiny buttons as she asked, “I’m afraid you’ll have to spell it out for me.”
“I can’t breathe.”
“Excuse me?”
“It’s hard to explain. It’s not a jealousy thing. He’s not afraid I’m going to run off with another man. At least, I don’t think so.”
“Trust a Hollister not to be that easy.”
“Yeah.” She looked over her shoulder. “You understand I’m making assumptions here.”
“Yup.”
“If he applied half the determination at solving this problem as he does to protecting me from it…” Her hand slashed through the air, filling in the rest of the sentence.
“You’re going to have to hold still if you want me to get these buttons undone. Nothing on me is as nimble as it used to be.”
“Oh. Sorry.” Jessie continued, “Anyway, if Mac would stop being so stubbornly determined that only he can handle this ‘problem’, it wouldn’t be a problem.”
“Mac tends to steamroll through trouble,” Granny agreed. “Sometimes that’s an admirable trait, like ten years ago when his father and brother told him to sell the ranch, that he couldn’t make a go of it? That boy didn’t listen to a word they said. He just took the bit between his teeth and set out to prove them wrong. Quite successfully, too.”
Jessie twisted her solitaire around her finger. “Yeah, well, this time he’s being successful in nothing more than ticking me off. Not only is his attitude infuriating, it’s damned insulting. I am a perfectly capable adult. I can make decisions. I can even reevaluate them if they turn out to be wrong. I could wring his sexy neck for not seeing that.”
“It’s not me you have to be convincing,” Granny pointed out as the last button came free.
“Talk about your impossible missions,” Jessie muttered as she stepped out of the dress and arranged the lace train on the bed until it fell in precise folds. “Lately, I can’t even pick up a knife to chop up chicken without someone appearing at my elbow to see if I need help. Twenty-four hours a day, someone from the Circle H is shadowing my steps, ready to intercede should I prove incompetent.”
Just remembering had her lip curling with disgust. She had no idea what Granny Ortiz was thinking, but in the last three weeks, she’d become attached to the other woman. And, bottom line, she valued her opinion. “Do you think I should call off the wedding?”
Granny’s head snapped up from where she was putting the dress on a hanger. “Are you absolutely sure this feeling isn’t pure old-fashioned jitters?”
Jessie had no trouble meeting her straightforward gaze. “Positive. The shadowing has gotten more subtle since I talked to him, but it hasn’t disappeared.”
“Well, if your heart says marry the man, but your instincts say not like this, then rather than calling off the wedding, I’d concentrate on finding a way to convince Mac he’s being
a blue ribbon fool.” Her faded blue eyes rested on the picture of a handsome young man dressed to the nines in a Zoot suit. “You think you have forever to work things out, but it’s not always true.”
Jessie followed Granny’s gaze. “Your husband was a very handsome man. Kind eyes. You must have loved him very much.”
“He had a temper.” Granny chuckled through the nostalgia. “But he was as beautiful inside as he was outside. I thought we’d never die, that we’d simply walk into the hereafter arm and arm as we’d done in life, but then that drunken fool Elliot Chambers got behind the wheel and put paid to my dreams.”
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