Pearl beamed. “There’s a bakery in the grocery store in Nocona. The minute Gemma saw the news she called and she and Liz made a trip over there this morning.”
Gemma O’Donnell was the same height as Jasmine. She had dark hair, green eyes, and a wide smile that lit up the whole café. She owned the beauty shop next door, and she and Jasmine were good friends—both full of spit and vinegar, and together they plowed right through every obstacle that got in their way.
Jasmine kept the whine inside, but she really wanted to let it out. She couldn’t even tell Gemma, and when the year was up, Gemma was going to be livid.
“Bet that fancy hotel didn’t have a wedding cake, did it?” Liz asked.
“No, ma’am, it did not. Who’s goin’ to cut that thing? I love cake,” Ace said.
He wasn’t sure he could actually swallow a bite, not after what Jazzy had said about the next wedding. Lord, he’d pictured it as something small with one person to stand up with him and one with Jazzy and a cake and some punch. Not a full-fledged shindig that would last two hours in the church and another five at a reception.
Gemma picked up the knife. “I’m going to cut it and you are going to feed each other so you’ll have lots of good luck and this marriage will last forever. Pearl, you pour some beer in these two glasses and they can toast, too. I thought about champagne, but you’ve already had that with the fancy limo and room. Besides, you are back in Texas so it’s beer! But the cake feeding is going by the books because I intend for you to stay married because you couldn’t have picked better soul mates.”
She set the top layer of the small three-tiered cake to one side before she cut the next layer. “You have to freeze the top layer and eat it on your first anniversary for good luck.”
“Did you do that?” Jasmine asked Pearl.
“It hasn’t been a year yet, but it’s in the freezer. How about you?” Pearl asked Liz.
“We only been married five months, but I didn’t freeze any cakes. Remember, we got married on Christmas by the judge and we didn’t have all the hoopla. We don’t have a wedding cake topper, but if it’s important I’ll freeze a Ding Dong and we’ll share it on our first anniversary.”
Wil twisted the top off three bottles of Coors. He filled nine glasses with beer and one with ginger ale for Pearl. Wil’s tall, dark good looks complimented Pearl’s flaming red hair and green eyes. Jasmine had decided months before that she wasn’t having a husband until she could get a cowboy that looked at her like Wil looked at Pearl. Now she had a husband who didn’t want to be married and who damn sure wasn’t happy about a big foo-rah over in Sherman in a month. Yep, it was fool’s gold day for sure!
That which does not kill us makes us stronger, her grandmother’s voice whispered in her ear.
Well, Granny Dale, I will be the strongest damn woman or else the deadest one in Montague County in a year’s time.
She could’ve sworn she heard her grandmother giggle.
Gemma cut one small piece of cake and handed the plate to Jasmine.
“Is this all I get?” Jasmine asked.
She’d married Ace and now had to live with him for a year, in the house with him, and see him wandering around without a shirt, showing off his muscular chest, and she couldn’t even touch it. And all she got was a piece of cake the size of a damn silver dollar?
“No, that’s what you and Ace are going to feed each other. You go first,” Liz said.
Jasmine used her fingers, broke off a piece of cake, and hurriedly shoved it toward his mouth. The sun was shining but lightning could still come through the window and strike her dead as a doornail for pretending to be happily married.
“You get a drop of that icing on my face and you have to lick it off,” Ace said with an evil grin and a wiggle of the eyebrows. If awards were given out for acting out the role of a love-drunk husband, Ace Riley would have it nailed.
Jasmine slowed down and carefully laid the bite on his tongue. He grabbed her wrist to hold her fingers in his mouth, wrapped his tongue around the finger and thumb, and sucked off all the cake icing.
Liz’s dark eyes widened as she looked at Raylen. “Now I wish we would’ve had a cake.”
“Bring out the Ding Dongs when we get home, darlin’.” He kissed Liz right on the lips.
“Now be nice. All that lovey-dovey stuff might slow Dewar down and the wrong woman will catch him,” Rye teased.
Ace picked up the rest of the cake, deliberately missed Jasmine’s open mouth, and smeared icing on her upper lip. He tipped her chin up and slowly licked every drop of it off, ending with a hard, passionate kiss.
Lights didn’t flash and wedding bells didn’t ring like they did in Vegas when he kissed her, but they didn’t miss it by far. When he broke the kiss and looked into her eyes her knees went weak. So it wasn’t the white dress and the moment after all. Ace Riley, her new husband, had just knocked her socks off.
“Now can we have a real piece of cake?” Ace asked hoarsely.
Jazzy was doing a fine job of acting like a new wife. Too damn fine! That kiss caused a stirring that was uncomfortable. Thank goodness his shirttail was hanging out over his belt and covered the evidence.
“Not until you drink out of each other’s cups,” Pearl said. “The trick is to lock arms and drink out of your own glass.”
Rye refilled fluted glasses that Austin had brought over for the occasion, making sure Pearl got the ginger ale and waiting until the bride and groom had done the traditional thing, then he held up his glass. “To Ace, a branded cowboy!”
Everyone tossed the beer back like shots of whiskey.
Liz refilled everyone’s glasses with beer and Pearl’s with ginger ale. “Here’s to a lifetime of happiness with your branded cowboy, Jasmine.”
Jasmine looked at Ace. Surprising enough, no hot anger was shooting out of his eyes. Most men would be madder than a wet rooster in a thunderstorm at being called branded. But his eyes were still soft and dreamy from the kiss.
Gemma cut big chunks of the wedding cake and handed the first two pieces to Ace and Jasmine. Liz popped the tops off several more bottles of beer.
Jasmine loved every one of the O’Donnells: Raylen, Dewar, Rye; Colleen, who was missing from the party because the previous February she’d married Blaze McIntire and joined the very carnival that Liz had left behind; Gemma; and of course Austin. She really loved Pearl because she’d been her best friend forever, and Wil, because he made Pearl happy. And Liz because she had worked for several weeks for Jasmine when she first moved to Ringgold and they’d become such close friends.
But she wished the whole lot of them would go home. Her world was upside down and inside out. She needed some time to process it all before she opened the café the next morning.
Shit! Tomorrow morning bright and early I have to face Bridget, plus all the Monday morning regular coffee drinkers. And Ace won’t be anywhere around, not until midafternoon.
Ace set his empty plate on the table, put his arm around Jasmine’s waist, and drew her close to his side. “Good cake and good friends. Thank you all for this.”
“You are very welcome,” Gemma said. “And now it’s time to turn out the lights, like that old song says. I’ll see you,” she pointed at Jasmine, “on Tuesday unless Momma throws a fit to come for lunch tomorrow.”
Jasmine nodded. Ace’s hand was hot against her back, sending rippling tingles from his fingertips to her neck and down to her toes, and reminding her that his kiss had been every bit as hot as his hand.
Pearl looped her arm through her husband’s. “Okay, Wil, it’s time to take your fat wife home.”
“My wife is not fat,” he protested.
“You blind or something?” Austin asked.
“I’m with Rye. I think Pearl is beautiful pregnant,” Raylen said.
Liz and Gemma were busy carrying the dirty plates to the kitchen and loading the dishwasher. Gemma wrapped the small top layer of the cake in plastic wrap and then slipped it into a
gallon storage bag before she stored it in the freezer. Liz wiped down the table, threw away the beer bottles, and swept up the crumbs. When everything was put to rights, Liz wrapped her arms around Jasmine and Ace in a three-way hug.
“I really hope you are happy,” she said.
“Why wouldn’t we be?” Ace asked.
“It’s so sudden,” she said.
“After what you and Raylen pulled off, don’t talk to me about sudden,” he teased.
“Guess you are right.” She giggled.
Ace kept his arm around Jasmine until the last truck had pulled out of the drive. He was reluctant to remove it even then. It felt as if he was really the branded cowboy and she was his bride, as if they were soul mates who’d finally found each other.
“Was that our horny toad?” he asked.
“That wasn’t even a cricket. The real horny toad is our parents,” Jasmine said.
Ace rolled his pretty blue eyes up toward the ceiling.
“Won’t do a bit of good. Prayin’ or cussin’, either one. We got to get it done so we might as well get on with it,” she said.
He grinned. “I told you that you were strong as steel! Throw some things into a bag and we’ll go by the folks on the way to the ranch. If we make a stop there we can always plead that we’re tired and have to get things ready for tomorrow. If we don’t, they’ll come to the ranch and stay until midnight.”
Jasmine stepped away from his arm, amazed that the heat from his hand was still there even when she was two feet away. “I’ve got most of what I need out in my truck and I’ll go get the rest. Want to come up or wait here?”
He shot her a wicked grin. “Need me to undo your bra?”
“In your dreams, cowboy!”
Methinks thou didst protest too quickly, her conscience giggled. Until that moment, Jasmine didn’t even know that her conscience had a sense of humor.
Yes, I did, she agreed as she raced up the stairs and into her apartment. If Ace undid my bra, I’d have his belt buckle undone and him lying on his back so quick he wouldn’t know what hit him. This craziness will pass. It’s the dress and the cake.
“Hell, he might end up with Gemma yet,” she whispered as she packed several pairs of underpants, an extra bra, and a few more clothes in a small suitcase. A jolt of pure unadulterated jealousy tightened around her heart like a hangman’s noose.
Whoa! You have no right to be jealous of either Ace or Gemma. They are both your friends, so stop this shit right now.
Ace sat down at the table nearest to the door and put his head in his hands. If things had gone right he would have been on the Double Deuce shooting the breeze or playing a Sunday afternoon game of poker with his foreman and hired hands out in the bunkhouse.
He lifted his head when he heard her coming down the stairs. Not another woman in the world would be giving up her life for a whole year for him. But celibacy for a whole year? No flirting, which was as natural to Ace as breathing. No kissing or chasing a woman. He probably shouldn’t even be opening his little red leather book with all the names and addresses in it. God Almighty! It was going to be a long, long year.
“Do I need to put on body armor?” she asked.
He chuckled. “Naw, just stand behind me. They won’t shoot me. I’m the fair-haired child.”
“That’s real comforting,” she told him.
“I really am the spoiled middle child and if you don’t believe me, ask my older brothers who did not get a ranch handed to them free and clear of debt. They’ll crawl up on their soapboxes and bitch like little girls if you lend them an ear.” He picked up her suitcase and carried it for her. “Guess we’ll have to take both trucks since you’ll be coming in to work early.”
“Guess so,” she said.
“Then let’s go by the Double Deuce first. When we drive up in my folks’ yard we should be together,” he said.
She followed him to her little truck. He slung her suitcase into the back and then opened the truck door for her. When she was settled in with her seat belt fastened, he leaned inside and planted a hard, wet kiss on her lips.
“Don’t slap me. Gemma just pulled up in front of her beauty shop. Can’t have her suspicious,” he whispered.
Jasmine whipped her head around to see Gemma waving from the Petticoats & Pistols beauty shop next door to the Chicken Fried Café. Both places had started out as a car dealership many years before. The beauty shop had been the office for the dealership, and the café had been the home of the people who owned the business. The parking lot served both places back then and now as well.
Jasmine waved as she backed out of the lot and turned south on Highway 81 toward Bowie. Granny Dale told her once that no one could eat an elephant all at once but they might eat the whole thing a bite at a time. Going to his ranch was the first bite in the elephant that she’d have to eat in the next year, and she wasn’t even sure she liked elephant. Was it served grilled, fried, or ground up into hamburger? Did she put barbecue sauce on it or cook it in soup?
She passed the O’Donnell horse ranch on her right. The countryside wasn’t so different from where she had grown up in Sherman, except that she was a town-girl. She’d always loved to visit Pearl on her family ranch, loved horses and the smell of a barn. She’d liked Tess, Pearl’s southern momma, who was always giving them advice on how to be a real lady. But she’d loved John, Pearl’s dad, who talked with a slow drawl and taught the girls how to ride, both horses and tractors.
When Ace made a left turn off the highway onto a section line road she followed. The road turned to dirt half a mile later. Another quarter of a mile and Ace turned right into a gravel lane with barbed wire fence on either side. She could see the house and it wasn’t anything like the big brick two-story Pearl had lived in out on the ranch. It was long, low slung, and painted white. It looked more like a bunkhouse with a wide front porch open on the north and south ends to catch whatever summer breeze could be cussed up.
“Welcome home,” Ace said when he opened the truck door for her. “Those are my hired hands on the porch so I reckon I’d best carry you over the threshold once you meet them.”
“Ace?” Sam pushed his tall lanky frame out of the rocking chair. His bright blue eyes sparkled in a face full of wrinkles and wisdom. His thick gray hair was parted on the side and combed back; his jeans and chambray shirt were both clean and pressed. Cowboy boots were scuffed and spurs jingled when he crossed the porch.
“Sam?” Ace laced his fingers in Jasmine’s and led her up on the porch. “Dexter, Buddy, Tyson?”
“We sssss-aaw the nnnn-ewws last nnn-ight.” Buddy grinned and pushed a strand of brown hair back out of his eyes. Like Sam, he wore jeans and a chambray shirt, both clean but not ironed. His eyes were the same shade as his hair. Even with his cowboy boots he wasn’t more than three inches taller than Jasmine but his arms bulged the fabric of his shirt, and there wasn’t a bit of spare fat on him.
“You goin’ to introduce us or what?” Dexter asked. He was only slighter smaller than King Kong, had arms the size of hams, and a big round bald head. He looked like a bouncer or maybe a wrestler.
“This is my new wife, as you all know, since it was on last night’s news. Jasmine owns the Chicken Fried Café south of Ringgold, so you might have seen her there,” he said.
“I’m Tyson. I been in there a few times, but I ain’t never seen you.” The youngest of the four stepped forward. His red hair was close cut, his shoulders as square as his face, and his green eyes looked as if they held secrets no one would ever find out.
“Pleased to meet you, Tyson,” Jasmine said.
“And this is Sam, Dexter, and Buddy.” Ace pointed as he introduced the other three.
“We’re glad to have you on the ranch.” Sam stepped forward. “It’s missed a woman since Ace’s grandma died back when he was just a kid.”
His voice was deep and very Texan.
Dexter and Buddy nodded in agreement.
“I hope you like the Doub
le Deuce as much as we do,” Tyson said.
“I’m sure I will. I’ve always loved ranches,” Jasmine said.
“Ever lived on one?” Sam asked.
“No, but my best friend, Pearl, who married Wil Marshall, grew up on one and I loved visiting her,” Jasmine answered.
“Well, we’d best get on back to the bunkhouse. We just wanted to congratulate you two and welcome Jasmine to the Double Deuce,” Sam said.
“We’re just stopping by to drop off Jasmine’s truck and then we’re on our way to the folks’ place. They’ve never met her,” Ace said.
Sam chuckled down deep in his chest. “She looks like she can hold her own. Let me open that door for you, son.”
Sam swung the screen door open and Ace scooped Jasmine up in his arms and carried her inside. He kicked the door shut with his boot heel and set her down in a huge living room. “Welcome home, Mrs. Riley.”
She looked up to say something about him calling her by that ridiculous name, only to find his dreamy blue eyes already locked on her lips. She rolled up on her tiptoes. Their mouths met in a hungry clash, devouring and tasting, nibbling and teasing until they were both panting.
“Whew!” he said when they broke apart.
“That cannot happen again, Ace,” she mumbled.
“Felt pretty damn good to me.” He grinned.
“That’s why.” She took a step back. “Which way to my room?”
Ace whistled down the hallway. Four doors opened off to each side with a fifth right at the end. He slung open the first one on the right. “My room.”
Then he pointed at the other. “Your choice. Each side has two bedrooms but Gramps only put in one bathroom. It’s a big one at the end of the hallway. Two sinks, shower and tub separate. I expect you’ll be up before I am so that won’t be a problem.”
“I’ll think about the rooms while we visit your folks and make a choice when we get back. Should I change?”
“What you have on is fine. We’re laid-back ranch folks, Jazzy. We ain’t fancy-pants people.”
“Is that what you think I am?” she asked.
One Hot Cowboy Wedding Page 7
