A thin line of orange on the eastern horizon promised a sunny day. The north wind had died down, which was a miracle for the first week of January in north Texas. The wind was hot, cold, or somewhere in between from Labor Day to July Fourth. Then it stopped completely and a breeze couldn’t be bought, traded for, cussed up, or prayed for until Labor Day.
Pearl curled up on the end of the sofa with a soft throw over her bare feet. Her headache was nearly gone, but she felt as if she’d been awake for a solid month.
“Want another cup of coffee?” Wil asked. He’d dressed in gray sweat bottoms and a matching shirt with a picture of a bull rider on the front.
“No more coffee. Take me home.”
He sat down on the other end of the sofa. “I’m too sleepy to drive. I’ve called Jack, my foreman, and he’s taking care of chores this morning. Let’s go back to bed and get some rest. I’ll take you home later today.”
“I’ll sleep right here,” she said. Her stomach growled loudly in protest, and she laid a hand on it as if her touch would quiet the grumbling.
“Breakfast first. Just something light and then sleep.”
He crossed the foyer to the kitchen and poured two glasses of milk, put two toaster pastries in the toaster, and set out a plate to use when they were ready. “Don’t be fallin’ asleep before I get there,” he yelled through the open doors.
He leaned against the cabinet beside the refrigerator and shut his eyes while he waited. When the toaster popped up the pastries, the noise woke him and he rolled his neck to get the kinks out. He hurriedly removed the hot pastries and dropped them on the plate, balanced it on the top of one of the two glasses of milk, and slowly made his way across the foyer to the living room.
“Are you awake?” he asked.
“I can open my eyes but I’m not so sure that qualifies.”
“Eat and we’ll take a nap. I’m too tired to do anything but sleep.”
“I don’t know if I’ve got the energy to climb back up the stairs. Why don’t you sleep up there and let me rest right here?” She wasn’t sure even in her tired state that she’d trust herself to get into bed with Wil. One snuggle might cause a heat that he’d have to put out before she could sleep.
“I’ll carry you.”
She smiled and bit off a chunk of the pastry. He ate fast, polished off the last of his milk, and stood up, scooped her up in his arms yet another time, and started for the staircase.
She looped her arms around his neck and said, “Wil, you are going to break your back carrying me around like this. I can walk. I managed to get down the stairs.”
“I know, but that was because I was already down here and didn’t know you were awake. Besides, I lift sacks of feed and bales of hay that weigh more than you do.”
He wasn’t even winded when he reached the landing.
“Put me down now. I can walk to the bathroom. I need a bath before we go to sleep. I feel all sticky and grimy.”
“Okay, I’ll put a clean shirt on the vanity for you,” he said.
She stripped out of the T-shirt and underpants and laid them on the back of the toilet before turning on the water in the tub. When she sank down into the warm water, she sighed. She adjusted the water, making it even warmer, and leaned back. Everything was still slightly fuzzy, but her head didn’t hurt anymore. She vowed she would never wear high heels again. If she’d been wearing her cowboy boots, she wouldn’t have fallen.
The tub was extra deep and the water covered her completely when she finally turned off the faucets with her toes. Steam hung in the air like fog on a London wharf, covering the opaque shower doors, the mirrors, and even putting down a layer on the toilet seat.
Being awakened every hour was worse than getting no sleep at all. She grabbed one of the towels on the rack, rolled it into a neck pillow, and leaned back. She only meant to shut her eyes for a minute or two but when she awoke the water was cold, the steam gone, and the prickly feeling on her neck had more to do with someone staring at her than the terry cloth of the towel.
She popped her eyes open and sat up slowly, peeking out around the end of the shower door.
She grabbed the washcloth to cover her breasts. “What are you doing in here?”
“I was waiting for you to wake up so I could take a shower. I was going to give you five more minutes and then I was going to crawl in with you. I’ve seen every bit of you up close and very personal. You can drop the washcloth and stop blushing.”
“I’m not blushing,” she protested, even though her cheeks were blazing.
He didn’t move from the toilet seat. “I figured you’d be finished by now.”
“What time is it?” She didn’t make a move toward getting out of the chilly water.
“Almost eleven o’clock.”
She popped up out of the water like a fishing bobber and wrapped a towel around her. “I need to call Lucy.”
“Already did. Ten guests. They’re all checked out and she’s cleaning rooms.” He ran a hand up her wet thigh.
“But…” she stammered.
“Yes, darlin’, you have a nice butt. However, we both need sleep. We’ll talk about butts later.”
“Oh, hush!” She could hear him chuckling after she’d shut the door. It turned into a roar when she remembered she’d left her clothes in the bathroom, opened the door to retrieve them, and found him standing there in all his naked glory waiting for the tub to drain so he could take a shower.
The nap she’d taken in the tub had revived her and she was wide awake. She tried counting backward from one hundred, but that reminded her of that old song about ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall and then she couldn’t get the tune out of her head. She tried making her mind go blank, but that just provided a blank screen for pictures of Wil, most of which involved no clothing and lots of muscles, and that made her pulse race and her blood heat up to the boiling point.
She flipped from one side of the bed to the other, beat the lumps out of her pillow half a dozen times. Did Wil really mean no women were allowed in his kitchen at all, or was it only for cooking and cleanup? She tiptoed down the stairs and carefully made her way to the kitchen. She tried three different cabinet doors before she found where he kept the glasses. Leave it to a man to put them as far from the fridge as he could.
“Still hungry? Want me to cook you a real breakfast?” Wil asked from the deep shadows of the kitchen.
She jumped as if she’d been shot. “Good God Almighty! Just how far do you go to protect this kitchen? Have you got a gun hiding in the knife drawer?”
He grinned. “I’m not protecting my kitchen, Red. I was too wired to sleep so I came down here for a glass of milk, so take down two glasses. We would probably sleep better if we snuggled up together. I know I would because I could stop worrying about you.”
“It’s been nine hours. I’m going to be all right, Wil.”
He picked her up and set her on the counter. She wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him toward her. When their lips met, she groaned.
She tucked her head into his shoulder while he breathed in the scent of her clean, still slightly damp hair.
He laughed and smacked a kiss on her forehead. “I was so worried about you. But we’d better stop makin’ out. I’ll pour the milk.”
He set her back on the floor, poured two glasses of milk, and handed one to her. While she sipped, he turned up his glass and downed half of it. Even the way his Adam’s apple bobbed was sexy that morning. She couldn’t imagine having a permanent relationship with him. With the heat between them, they’d burn out in a week’s time and then there they’d be, just like other miserable married couples. No fire. Bound together with kids and finances and wishing to hell they were anywhere else in the world but together.
“Whoa!” she said. The m-word set her mind going in circles.
“What did I do?”
“You drank milk. That set my mind to thinking of… Well, it set me off on a merry-go-round of thoughts. I’m going to bed. I think I can sleep now.”
He waggled his heavy black eyebrows. “Sure you don’t want to cuddle up next to me?”
She stood up, rinsed her glass, and put it in the dishwasher. “Too dangerous.”
“Then good night.” He stretched and yawned.
She refused to let him carry her up the steps and barely even muttered good night to him before tumbling into the bed again. She didn’t have to count sheep or count backwards when she slipped between the sheets the second time. She shut her eyes and dreamed of Wil. He was standing in a cemetery with a bouquet of red roses. His face was a study in misery and the tombstone had one word on it…Red.
She sat up, gasping for air and shivering to her toes even though she was toasty warm under the down comforter. Was the dream telling her how he would have felt if she’d broken her neck and died in the fall?
“Are you all right?” Wil asked from the bedroom door.
“Bad, bad dream. Must have been the fall messing with my head,” she said.
He crossed the room in a few easy strides, sat down on the bed, and wrapped her in his arms. “You scared me when you yelled out like that.”
She could hear his heart thumping like the drums in a country band when she laid her cheek on his broad chest. “I’m fine. It was just a dream, but you can call me Red anytime you want to, and would you just lie down with me for a little while?”
Pearl felt the tenseness leave her body when he slipped beneath the covers and wrapped her up in his arms. She threw one arm over his wide chest and dreamed again of him, but that time he wasn’t standing in a cemetery. They were leaning on a corral fence and he was showing her a brand-new bull calf born that morning. Spring was everywhere in minty green buds on the pecan trees, yellow daffodils up against the fence row, and purple irises showing off next to the back porch.
She told him that she had to get back in the house because she was canning plum jelly that day, and he kissed her long, hard, and passionately. “I’m a lucky man to have you, Red.”
And she woke up to the sound of the door into the bedroom opening.
“Good evening, sleepyhead.” Wil carried a wooden tray into the room. It was laden with omelets, steaming hot biscuits, bacon, coffee, juice, and even a silk daffodil in a bud vase.
She sat up. “Do you have a harem or is that all for me?”
“It can be, but I thought we’d share and no, there is no harem. One woman, namely you, Red, has brought enough chaos into my life these past few days to scare the hell right out of me.” He set the tray over her lap.
Coming out of his mouth, the nickname didn’t sound bad at all. She picked up the coffee first and sipped.
He kissed her soundly, then crawled up beside her on the bed.
She looked up into his eyes and said, “I don’t believe I’ve got the power to scare the hell out of you, cowboy. Mostly because I don’t see any wings or a halo, so you’ve not got the whole hell scared out of you yet.”
“Don’t underestimate yourself.”
She picked up a piece of bacon, crammed it inside a biscuit, and bit off a chunk. “This tastes like heaven. What time is it?”
He looked toward the window. “Five thirty.”
“You are shittin’ me.”
He swallowed quickly to keep from spewing coffee. He slung an arm around her shoulder and squeezed. “Feelin’ better?”
“Yes. Headache is gone and I’m hungry,” she answered.
She looked up and their eyes met across the short distance. He leaned and she shifted and their lips locked with so much passion that it staggered Pearl. What amazed her even more was the feeling that she belonged right where she was—in his house, in his bed, and in his arms. Right there on that ranch with him forever.
The kiss deepened and Wil moved the tray to one side. He stretched out beside her, drawing her so close that her body molded to his. He rested his chin on her tousled hair and sighed. “This feels so good.”
Wil Marshall was a mystery, soft and gentle, demanding and rough. All the qualities of both a good guy and a bad boy combined to keep a woman guessing. Did he have any idea how complex he was?
She sat up and pulled the T-shirt over her head. He eased her underpants off, the brush of his fingertips on her hips and thighs fanning hot embers that seemed to be ready all the time for his touch.
He jerked his shirt over his head and tossed it toward the door and swiftly removed his sweatpants. They flew through the open door and landed in the hallway. Her skin was like an aphrodisiac to him. Just touching her ribs and brushing the back of his hands over her breasts brought him to full hardness. He was ready.
She liked the gentle sex as much or more than what they’d had at the motel when their hands couldn’t touch fast and furious enough. When Wil began a slow rhythm, she looked up into his eyes and got lost in the depths. What would it be like to wake up every morning to sweet love like that?
“What are you thinking?” he whispered.
“That I like this kind of sex as well as the hot stuff,” she said.
“It’s all hot.” He chuckled.
“You got that right.” She smiled.
He brought her up to the very edge of a climax, then backed off and let her cool down a bit before repeating the performance. When they both reached the apex at the same time, he could see it in her eyes and gave way to the aching desire in his body. With one last thrust they both found a sweet release.
“Wow!” she said when she finally found her voice.
“Yes, ma’am,” he whispered hoarsely.
The ringtone on her phone started playing “Georgia on My Mind” and she gasped. “That’ll be Mama. I bet she’s already called a dozen times.”
Wil moved quickly off the bed, found her purse, and brought the phone back to her. She swiped the screen to find that it had been her mother calling, that there were eleven text messages from her and two from Aunt Kate and one from Jasmine. That meant the whole family had heard about the unfortunate incident. Pearl pushed the right buttons and called her mother.
Tess didn’t even say hello but started in on a tirade. “Pearl Richland, what in the hell is goin’ on over there? I told your daddy that you didn’t have a bit of business runnin’ that motel. And now I find out that you’ve nearly got yourself killed in a strange man’s house. Speak to me! Don’t just sit there like a deaf and dumb donkey. I swear if I’d have known your daddy had an aunt like Pearlita, I wouldn’t have married the man. I could’ve had a good Southern boy, but oh no, that damned Texas drawl and his swagger in those cowboy boots would make a woman take a second look. Now I’ve got to pay for it with a daughter who is just like him and acts like his brazen aunt. You should’ve been raised in Georgia. You haven’t said a word since I picked up this phone. Speak to me, I said.”
Tess Landry Richland had kept her Southern accent even though she’d been in Texas for years, and when she was angry or worried, it surfaced with more power than a class five tornado. Pearl had inherited her short height and her curvy figure from her mother, but the rest of Pearl was pure Richland. Tess had blond hair, blue eyes, and at near sixty, a person would have to use a magnifying glass to find more than a few wrinkles. And Tess wouldn’t have been caught taking out the trash without her makeup and being dressed to the nines.
“Mama, you haven’t shut up long enough to let me work a word in edgewise. I’m fine. I was not hurt. I just tumbled down the stairs and got a couple of bruises on my leg and a minor concussion, which is already gone…”
“And what were you doing in a strange man’s house anyway? It’s the Texan blood in you. The Landrys are a respectable bunch of Southern people. It’s the Richlands who are renegades.”
Pearl rolled her eyes.
Wil grinned and gathered up his shirt and sweat bottoms.
“Mama, can we do this later? I really need to get dressed and go home now,” Pearl said.
“Well, just where are you? And how undressed are you?” Tess demanded.
“I’m at Wil’s. We were up most of the night because I wasn’t supposed to go to sleep for a few hours and then I took a long nap, then we had wild passionate sex right here in this bed.” Pearl figured that was enough to set her mother off into a tirade that would give her enough time to snag another biscuit and another few bites of omelet.
Tess gasped so loud that Pearl was afraid she’d caused her to have an acute cardiac infarction right there in her posh Sherman, Texas, home. “Pearl, that’s enough of that. You know I don’t like to be teased. I hope Mr. Marshall wasn’t where he could hear such talk. Did I tell you that Jasmine has broken up with that fellow she’s been keeping company with the past five years? I swear to God, I do hate to be right. Jasmine has been practically livin’ with him for at least two years.”
Tess changed the subject and went on like she’d never heard a word about S-E-X. “Well, her poor, poor mama is mortified and fit to be tied. And it wasn’t even like Jasmine caught him with another woman. She just told her poor mama, bless her heart, that they had grown apart. Now what in the hell does that mean? Tell me, what kind of woman gives that for an excuse when her mama had the whole wedding planned out for more than two years?”
Pearl swallowed quickly. “Eddie Jay has always been an asshole. He was born one and just got bigger with age. I’m glad Jasmine finally woke up. I’ve been telling her for years that he’s a no good sumbitch. She deserves someone a hell of a lot better than Eddie Jay Chandler. Got to go, Mama. Got a motel to run and rooms to clean.”
“What did I do to deserve this? You’re as bad as Jasmine. We should have never let you be friends with that girl,” Tess said with a sigh.
“Jasmine is a decent person. She just attracts men that are worse than swamp scum. And the reason you let me be friends with her is because her mama is your very best friend.”
“Goodbye, Pearl,” Tess said and hung up the phone.
Pearl sighed.
“So?” Wil asked.
“Mama says that my friend, Jasmine, has kicked out her slimy boyfriend and that I’m just a notch above causing the ruination of a fine old Southern family because I spent the night in your house. I told her we’d had passionate sex but she thought I was teasing. I always have figured if you tell the truth, they’ll never believe it. If she did, she’d force me into a convent.”
“That’s all? You were on there a long time.”
“Mama’s from Georgia. Why use five words when you can spit out five hundred?”
Wil chuckled deep in his chest and his brown eyes glittered. “My mama is from Bowie, Texas. Born on a ranch. Married a cowboy and raised one. She’s the same way. I think it’s a mother thing instead of a regional one.”
“You are probably right. Thanks for breakfast and for getting the phone for me. Would you please drive me home now?”
He waggled his eyebrows. “Naked?”
She playfully slapped him on the arm and got a brand-new set of red-hot tingles down in her gut for it. “No, I’ve got clothes in the bedroom.”
He moved across the bed and kissed her on the cheek. Now that they were rested and fed, he was ready to spend the night in bed with her. Whether they had hot passionate sex, sweet sex, or no sex, he’d like to wake up with her beside him the next day.
She slid out of bed, snatched the last piece of bacon, and carried it with her on the way across the landing. When the phone rang again, she’d just fastened the last button on her shirt. It wasn’t her mother coming up to bat again because it wasn’t her ringtone. She sat down on the little velvet and brass stool in front of the vanity.
“Hello,” she said cautiously.
“Hi, girl, this is Jasmine. I heard this morning that you tried to fly without wings. I could have told you that you never were an angel. Not a party girl like you. Thought I’d best call and make sure you are all right.”
“Mama called,” Pearl said.
“Then I guess you know the dirt from this area of the swamp.”
“I’m fine, and Mama said you finally got rid of Eddie Jay. Good for you. I told you he was a worthless asshole.”
“But he is a pretty and rich worthless asshole.”
“Pretty and rich ain’t so important now, is it?”
Jasmine didn’t hesitate for a minute. “You got it, girlfriend.”
Pearl ran her fingers through her tangled hair. “Quit your fancy job and move over here close to me. You always wanted to own a café, and there’s one for sale over in Ringgold. It’s even got a little apartment up above it. Come stay in one of my motel rooms and buy a café.”
“Mama’s already wrung out a dozen hankies with worry over what people might say. I might come over for a few days but, honey, Mama would hide in the cellar and not even go offer up Sunday morning prayers if I was a cook in a café, even if I did own it,” Jasmine said.
“Well, at least come see me. I’ve got twenty-four extra bedrooms. You can have your choice. Are you still working at Texas Instruments?”
“Yes, but I’ve got some vacation time coming. Is there really a little café for sale over there in your part of the woods?”
“It’s called Chicken Fried and it’s got an apartment above it. Life’s too short to put up with sumbitches in bed or at work.”
Wil poked his head in the open door. “Need any help?”
Pearl shook her head and pointed at the phone.
“Who do I hear? Would that be the cowboy who ruined your name last night? It’s a damn good thing your mama don’t know what I know, isn’t it?” Jasmine giggled. “Is he really sexy?”
“All of the above, but it’s time for me to go back to my motel mansion so I cannot talk right now.”
Wil crossed the floor and kissed her, teased her mouth open, and tasted coffee, bacon, and juice.
“Is that sexy cowboy in the room right now? I swear I can hear you panting,” Jasmine teased.
Pearl pushed Wil back and tried to give him a dirty look, but it came out with a giggle. “He is but he’s leaving. Talk.”
“Your mama called my mama. She called your cell phone and when you didn’t answer she called the motel phone. Someone named Lucy said for them not to worry, you were fine and staying at Wil’s because you had to be awakened every hour to make sure the concussion wasn’t getting any worse, and that you’d probably be home later today. Your mama called the Henrietta hospital and got the whole medical story. You know she could weasel a confession out of the devil’s minions. And then she called Mama and they commiserated together about their wayward daughters. And to answer your question quickly, I’ve really been thinkin’ about quittin’ my job, so if you aren’t serious, don’t offer me a room in your motel,” Jasmine said.
“I’m not telling you about the café or offering to give you a room at my motel lightly. Come on over here to Montague County. I’d love to have you close by.”
“When can you talk about the cowboy?”
“Much later.”
“Then I’ll call much later, and if you don’t answer, I’ll call your mama.”
“Don’t you dare,” Pearl said and hung up.
“Relatives again?” Wil asked.
“Better than relatives. That was my best friend from high school, Jasmine.”
Wil ran his fingers through his dark hair and strolled past her, taking time to stop and brush a soft kiss on her neck. “Either get dressed or I’m going to undress you and make wild passionate love to you all night long. Your choice.”
Pearl’s better judgment won the battle of choices and she got dressed but she grumbled the whole time.