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One Hot Cowboy Wedding Page 3


  “Hey, what are friends for?” she’d said with a big grin.

  Now she wasn’t so damned sure that it had been a golden moment. More like a fool’s gold moment!

  ***

  Ace took a long, cool shower and had things under control when he wrapped a towel around his waist. He poked his head out of the bathroom and yelled, “Hey, Jazzy, would you pitch my duffel bag in here?”

  In a minute she stuffed it through the small slit and he shut the door. He dug around in the bag until he found his cotton pajama bottoms and a white tank top. He combed his curls back with his fingertips and brushed his teeth.

  He’d never had a friend like Jazzy before. They’d hit it off from the first day they’d met when he came into Chicken Fried Café after she’d bought it and ordered a burger. She was cute as a new baby kitten, tough as nails, and sweet as ice cream, and he’d flirted some those first few days. But they’d become friends and he didn’t want to ruin that. He could take any problem to Jazzy and she’d help him work through it. He’d eaten lots and lots of burgers in the middle of the afternoon in her kitchen while he talked about cows, bulls, hired help, and even women.

  He’d never thought for a minute about him and Jazzy getting hitched. He wouldn’t have asked her, not in a million years. But now they were and there was that crazy topsy-turvy moment when he kissed her at the chapel and another one when she sat down so close that their legs touched. Fire and ice shot through his body and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. Jazzy was his friend, the only woman he’d ever trusted. And she’d only married him because of that friendship. So he’d had to shake that shit out of his mind about kissing her again to see if it felt as good the second time around.

  He was just coming out of the bathroom when someone knocked on the door and yelled, “Room service!”

  She started to stand up but noticed that he was closer to the door. Damn, he was one hot cowboy with water droplets still clinging to his hair and that thin tank top stretched across an acre of chest. She wondered if that soft blond hair peeking out the top would feel like velvet on her fingertips.

  Common sense told her to kick Ace right out in the hallway, lock the door, and tell him by cell phone to sleep in the hall or go book another room. It yelled loudly that she was playing with fire and she would get burned. Ace Riley was a player. Ace Riley had a barbed wire tattoo on his arm, a testimony that no woman would ever get near his heart.

  Desire sending out delicious little liquid spasms down low in her belly told her to hang a “Do Not Disturb” sign on the door and consummate the marriage in at least three different positions. It whispered softly that what she and Ace could do in that big bed would make red-hot flames.

  It wasn’t easy but she ignored both of them and concentrated on her hungry stomach. Dinner smelled heavenly when the waiter pushed it inside. The table was lined in virginal white, and silver domes covered their plates with napkins, crystal, and silverware all at the ready. A basket of bread sat in the middle. An ice bucket with crushed ice and six Coors longnecks was beside it. And a three-tiered silver server beside it held a whole array of miniature chocolate delights from bite-sized cheesecakes to chocolate-covered strawberries.

  Ace pulled a straight-back chair up to the table and motioned for her to sit. “I’m glad you’re willin’ to give up the good life and drink beer with me.”

  “The champagne we had in the limo was very good, but I really do like beer with steak. It’s the redneck in me,” Jasmine said.

  Besides that, two glasses of champagne had put wicked desires in her heart and body. Beer, steak, and at least half of those rich sinful delights afterward should take her mind plumb off sex for at least a week. By then she’d be back in her routine and Ace would be the fellow who came in for burgers and bantering.

  He brought another chair from the other side of the room and sat down across the table from her. “Ah, come on, you ain’t got a drop of redneck. You come from the high dollar side of life. I knew that the first time I met you. You never do talk about your upbringin’. Maybe I ought to get to know you better now that we’re married.”

  She cut a piece of rib-eye steak and chewed it slowly. “God, this is good. I’d marry you all over again just for the steak.”

  He laughed out loud. “And I thought I was a ladies’ man.”

  “Sorry to bust your bubble, but the steak is better than any man I’ve ever met, including you, my friend.” She checked the windows to make sure the stars were shining in the sky. In that flat desert, a storm could travel really fast, and she’d already tempted the Almighty God once that night when she vowed to love Ace and respect him through all eternity.

  But I do love him as a friend, and I do respect him as a rancher and a cowboy, she argued.

  Stop justifying. You also promised that death do us part shit, her inner voice whispered.

  I will respect him until the death of the marriage parts us. That’s called a divorce.

  “Now that my ego is in shambles, tell me about you in case Cole says this is just a marriage on paper and contests it,” Ace said.

  “Poor baby! His ego has been shattered,” she teased as if they were in the café kitchen instead of the honeymoon suite at the Bellagio.

  “Come on, Jazzy. I don’t know jack shit about you. A man should know the woman he’s married,” Ace said.

  “Okay, but only because you are pouting. I was born and raised in Sherman, Texas. My mother and Pearl’s momma were best friends so it just fell into place that we spent a lot of time together. I have a graduate degree in business management and accounting. Came right out of college and went to work for Texas Instruments and gradually worked on my master’s degree. I like what I do now much better than what I did. Cooking has always been my passion.”

  “Men?” Ace asked.

  “Five years with Eddie Jay. I’ve mentioned him before, remember? Three dating him and two living with him. That broke me from sucking eggs, I’m here to tell you. Evidently he’s been in love with Jadeen since high school and wouldn’t buck up against his folks to have her because she came from the wrong side of the tracks. She had his baby last year. Cute little boy that looks exactly like him. We broke up and he married her. End of story.”

  Ace frowned. “He had a baby with another woman while he was with you?”

  “Seems that way.”

  “Shit, Jazzy! You let him live?”

  She buttered a yeasty-smelling roll with a crusty top. “He wasn’t worth the bullet to put him down. We had this big fight but not like the one between Pearl and Marlin. I just pitched a bitch fit, which is about ten times bigger than a hissy. Pearl had to pay a fine for domestic abuse, and he got a restraining order against her. I told everyone that our relationship died in its sleep and neither of us really knew it was dead and didn’t care enough to mourn. But my heart was cut up in little pieces, and I’m never trusting another man. You are all—”

  Ace threw up a palm. “Whoa, there! I’m sitting right here.”

  “Darlin’, I’d trust you least of all. You are the biggest player and flirt in the whole big state of Texas, even if you are my best friend.”

  Ace slapped a hand over his heart. “I’m hurt.”

  “But you won’t be in pain a minute longer than it takes to pick up the next woman. Betcha dollars to buckets of cow shit that you are flirting with one by the time we get off the plane tomorrow afternoon.”

  Ace chuckled. “You know me too well, darlin’.”

  She nodded. “Yes, I do. Now tell me about you in case the lawyer grills us… kind of like that old movie Green Card.”

  “I saw that. Felt sorry for them in the end,” Ace said.

  “So you are from Ringgold?”

  “Born right on the ranch. When my folks got married, Gramps gave them a start with a section of land, a trailer house, and forty head of Angus. By the time they had three boys, they’d built a house and the herd was growing. Momma was still trying for a girl and got pregn
ant a fourth time. She went into labor but thought she had plenty of time to get to the hospital, so she didn’t get in a hurry to call Daddy out of the field. She got my three older brothers ready to take her over to Gramps’s place and by the time they got there, it was too late to go on to the hospital. Granny delivered me in her bedroom and the ambulance came and took me and Momma to the hospital. Doctor said Granny did a fine job, and Gramps said he got to name me since I was born on the Double Deuce. That’s why I’m named Ace and why I was his favorite. That and the fact I’m the odd child in the family. Three older brothers who stuck together, then three younger ones that came along after I was a big kid, and they hung together. I was truly the middle child in my family but the only child when I was over at Gramps’s place. Momma let me stay over there a lot after Granny died when I was twelve because Gramps was lonely. I have a tat on my arm which you’ve seen and a birthmark behind my left knee that looks like a lopsided set of bull horns. Other than that, I am what you see. I like steak and beer and hamburgers. I ride bulls in the rodeo, and you know who my friends are.”

  She reached for another bottle of beer at the same time he did. Their hands brushed and the air crackled. She jerked her hand back. It might be a long night, but she wasn’t giving in to the desire. He’d married her to keep his ranch, not because he was attracted to her. If he had been, he would’ve seriously asked her out months ago. He was constantly teasing her about going out with him but she knew it, he knew it, and so did everyone else.

  Everything was surreal to Ace. He’d been a player since he was old enough to chase women, and he loved them. He loved the way they smelled. He loved the way they felt. He loved the chase and the score. All of it, but that night something was happening that ran deeper. Ace Riley, experiencing something new at the age of thirty-two with a woman, and that woman was Jazzy; that put him in brand-new, unmarked territory.

  He tried analyzing the situation while he ate. He’d hugged Jazzy lots of times, thanking her for making him a burger after Chicken Fried was officially closed or comforting her when she looked worn down to a frazzlin’. How could a white dress, those white satin high-heeled shoes, and a Stetson hat have made such a difference in the way he felt?

  “Okay, I think we’ve got that all cleared up. We’re good enough friends that if the lawyer asks us those green card questions we can pass the test without studying. Nothing can go wrong.” He grinned.

  “I think I heard those four words earlier today,” she said.

  “What four words?” he asked.

  “Nothing can go wrong. I don’t believe in the magic of Vegas anymore, and you can take the rule book you said was in the drawer by the Gideon Bible out to the outhouse and use it to wipe your cute little ass.”

  “Come on, Jazzy. We’ll go home and the only one who will know is Cole, and he’ll keep his mouth shut, believe me, because he won’t want his dignity hanging out on the line like dirty underwear, and he’s already made his claims about what he’s going to do. He’ll slink off like a wounded coyote and lick his wounds. And the lawyer don’t give a damn who gets the ranch. He just wants to close the paperwork and go on.”

  “And why won’t Cole broadcast it to the world just to make you look bad?” Jasmine asked.

  “Because there’s a history with him and the ranch. He never wanted it, still doesn’t. I’m not sure what happened, but there was a big problem with Megan after she married Garrett. It wasn’t her fault, and it had something to do with Cole being drunk and trying to force her to have sex with him. He slapped her pretty hard and put some bruises on her arms. He said she asked for it. Garrett wanted to kill him. Daddy told him to get the hell out of Montague County and stay out or he’d press assault charges. Cole would love to get his hands on the ranch, but he would never tell anything. For one thing no one would believe him; for another, if Garrett ever finds him, he’ll still beat the shit out of him.”

  “Sounds complicated,” Jasmine said.

  “It is.”

  “Oh my God!” she said around the tasty little petit fours cake she’d popped into her mouth. “Ace, taste one of these. They’re wonderful.”

  She picked up the tiered tray and carried it to the coffee table. “Push the cart out in the hallway, but we’re keeping these in here. If we don’t eat them all, I’m taking them home with me tomorrow.”

  He wheeled the cart out and came back inside but was careful to sit on the other end of the sofa away from her and not right in the middle. He turned up the volume on the television when the ten o’clock news came on. The weather was going to be hot and sunny, but that was to be expected in Nevada as well as Texas the first week of June. Someone had won a half-million-dollar jackpot at the slots at one of the casinos. Jasmine listened with half an ear but didn’t pay much attention when the anchorperson didn’t mention the Bellagio.

  And then that cute little lady who’d been at the wedding chapel came on the television with her big smile said, “And for our human interest story today. A couple from a tiny little town in Texas called Ringgold that has only about a hundred people in it…”

  Ace and Jasmine both sat straight up and held their breath.

  “…got the ultimate honeymoon in Las Vegas tonight. We have live footage of the whole wedding ceremony and their surprise when they found out that they’d just won a honeymoon package, compliments of Cupid’s Wedding Chapel. For being the five thousandth couple to get married at the Cupid’s, the owner presented them with a surprise package including the honeymoon suite at the Bellagio, dinner, a limo, and champagne. Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Ace Riley from Ringgold, Texas. May you have a long and happy life and come back to Las Vegas on your fiftieth anniversary.”

  The whole time she was talking live footage of the wedding flashed across the screen. Jasmine’s first thought was that the damn camera didn’t add ten pounds but twenty. Her second was something that had to do with hell being holy! She pushed her chair back, stood up on weak knees, and paced the floor. Ace followed Jasmine’s example and kept in step with her back and forth across the floor.

  “Please tell me that is not national coverage, that it’s a local, preferably a Bellagio-only station,” she moaned.

  Both of their cell phones rang at the same time. His ringtone was “Momma Don’t Let your Babies Grow Up to be Cowboys.” Hers was “Baby Girl,” which meant her mother had her father’s cell phone in her hand and not her own.

  “Don’t guess it is,” Ace drawled.

  “You goin’ to answer yours?” she asked.

  “Not right now. We got to get our stories straight before we answer anything. That was Momma. Who was yours?”

  “Momma on Daddy’s phone. Hers is always in her purse and his is on the end table between the sofa and his recliner,” she said.

  Jasmine threw herself back on the sofa. “We are up shit creek without a paddle and I see the rapids ahead. Dammit to hell, Ace. I can’t do this! I can’t be married to you in real life. This was supposed to be a secret! I’ve got a café to run.”

  Ace followed her lead again, landing beside her so close that their entire sides were plastered against each other. “Guess we’re goin’ to have to pretend to be married for a year. I’m sorry I got you into this mess, Jazzy.”

  “I’m the one who proposed to you, if I remember right, so you don’t get to be sorry about that.” She jumped up like a windup toy and paced back and forth across the floor again, mumbling and cussing alternately.

  His phone played the first bars of Blake Shelton’s “Hillbilly Bone,” and he picked it up.

  “Hello.”

  She stared right at him and he grinned.

  “Yep, that was me, all right. I guess she did get past the barbed wire tat. Nope, honey, I guess I won’t be seeing you again. I’m sorry that you are disappointed, got a call coming, ’bye now.” His voice was low and sexy.

  She glared.

  He poked a button and said, “Yes, ma’am. That was me and yes, ma’am, I’m married. No, i
t’s not a joke. Yes, I guess we are canceling our date for the rodeo. Sorry that you think I’m a sorry bastard. Got another call.”

  Jasmine glared harder.

  “Hello. Don’t think so, darlin’. I hear that rotting in hell involves sitting in flames and I really don’t like that.”

  He laid the phone down after that one and said, “She hung up on me after she told me to rot in hell.”

  “Shit storm, Ace. We’ve stirred up a big old shit tornado! What in the hell are we goin’ to do? I don’t have an extra bedroom.”

  When Ace shrugged she went on, “Damn! Damn! We might as well have gotten married at the Montague County Courthouse and put it on the front page of the Bowie newspaper. Momma is going to pass little green apples.”

  Ace chuckled.

  She pointed her finger at him and narrowed her eyes. “It’s not funny. It’s not a secret after all and what happens in this town isn’t supposed to be broadcast on national television. We are married and you, darlin’, are going to have to be celibate for a whole year!”

  Ace groaned. “Oh my God! Jazzy, what are we going to do?”

  “I don’t know. But I do know if you cheat on me, Pearl and Gemma will kill you.” She threw herself back on the sofa for the second time, keeping a foot of space between them. “Why in the hell did you pick that chapel?”

  Ace threw up his palms defensively. “Hey, it looked like the least known one in the whole town. How was I supposed to know it was having a contest? You can live at the ranch. I’ve got four bedrooms. Three are empty right now. You can take your choice.”

  “I don’t want to live at the ranch! I like my apartment and it’s convenient above the café. And you said nothing else could go wrong. Guess what, cowboy?”

  His phone rang again. “I will never utter those words again, Jazzy. I promise. That’s my mother.”

  She pinched the top of her nose. The headache was coming on strong. “There’s no getting around it now that it’s been on television. You’re going to sleep on my sofa for a year, boy!”

  Ace sat up straight and shot her a dirty look. “I’m not sleeping on a damn sofa when I’ve got a king-sized bed. And don’t call me boy! I’m a full grown man, and if you doubt that I can prove it right now.”