Catch Me a Cowboy (37 page)

The foot stopped swinging, and the barrel of the gun lowered. “And what exactly would be the criteria for asking a woman to live there?”

He knew his next words would be the most important words he would ever speak in his life, but damned if his brain hadn’t turned to corn mush. Still, he did the best he could with little oxygen and a heart attack imminent.

“She has to be confident. The kind of woman who wouldn’t let a bad haircut or comic book t-shirts detract from her beauty. And she’d have to be a fighter. Someone
who won’t give up when life throws a few obstacles in her path—like the death of a husband she loves and the eviction from her home by a villainous scoundrel. A woman with a heart big enough for four orphans and an entire town—and hopefully for a stupid hillbilly who loves her more than he could ever put into words. Marry me, Shirley Girl.”

Shirlene stared up at the man who had filled her fantasies and dreams since the very first night she stumbled into his bed. His wavy, dark hair was flat from his cowboy hat, and his shirt hung open to reveal the hard muscles beneath. But it was his face that held her attention, a face that had become more familiar than her own. A face that usually held a smile, but that now just held the somber look of a man who had made mistakes and was sorry for them.

A man who loved her and who she loved in return.

Happiness flooded her. The giddy kind of jump-up-and-down happiness that Shirlene had felt very few times in her life. Billy’s love was like dark chocolate ganache on a great big quadruple-layered cake. All she wanted to do was dive right on in and start licking it up.

But first things first.

She waggled the gun at him. “So where were we?”

“What?”

“Ahh, yes. I believe you were about ready to get to those jeans. Although you might want to take the boots off first, honey.”

Billy’s eyes narrowed as he placed a hand on his hip. “Are you kidding me? I just asked you to marry me and all you can think about is re-enacting some scene from a movie?”

She bit back a smile and tried to look innocent. “Well, you can’t expect me to make my home in Wilkesville after a measly couple of tours, now can you?”

The anger left his face. “How much time are we talking about?”

“All the time we want. The kids are as snug as bugs in a big mansion of a rug with my brother and Hope watching over them.”

His eyes lit up. “Then in that case, Sugar Buns, I’m going to give you the grand tour.” He slipped the shirt off his shoulders and let it fall to the ground.

With his gaze pinned on her, he toed off his lizard-skin boots before pushing his jeans down his slim hips. In the moonlight, every lean line of muscle stood out like one of those smooth marble statues they had in Rome. All except the muscle Billy displayed when he slipped off his underwear.

No Greek god had ever boasted something as big as Billy’s.

Shirlene studied the bobbing length of him as desire sizzled a shaft of heat straight through her. “I guess they grow ’em big in east Texas.”

Instead of answering, Billy leaned down and removed his socks before stepping up against Shirlene’s legs. The gun slipped from her hand, and before she could pick it back up, he reached down and pulled her to her feet.

“Say it.” His hands cradled either side of her face, one thumb caressing her bottom lip. He leaned in and brushed a kiss over her mouth. “Say it, Shirley Girl.”

She hooked her arms around his shoulders and stared back into those rich brown eyes. “I love you, Billy Wilkes Cates. And I’ll love you until the day I die.”

The dopey, country boy smile she’d come to adore slipped over his face. “Fair enough,” he said, “because I plan on doing the same thing.”

His next kiss was deep, wet, and skillet-fried. When he had her feeling as if she’d just climbed off the biggest roller coaster at Six Flags—all shaky-kneed and thrilled—he grabbed the hem of her dress and lifted it over her head. Since she didn’t have a stitch on under the dress, naked flesh met naked flesh, and they both sucked in their breaths.

With his eyelids at half-mast, he stared down at her bare breasts pressed against his chest. “I guess they grow ’em big in west Texas.”

She tipped back her head and laughed while Billy trailed kisses down her neck.

Much later, after she’d received a grand tour of Wilkesville and then some, Shirlene lay in Billy’s arms, feeling as content as one of the Widow Jones’s cats after a big saucer of cream.

“So when’s the weddin’?” Billy asked, his lips brushing the top of her head.

She yawned and burrowed closer to his chest. “I think the weddin’ committee has it planned for the third week in September. After summer heat, but before the high school football playoffs.”

Billy pulled back and stared down at her. “You mean the town has already planned it?”

“Right down to my ugly flowers and bridesmaids’ dresses.”

“But that’s crazy,” he said. “They were all there when you turned me down flat.”

Shirlene smiled brightly up at him. “Welcome to
Bramble, Billy Cates. Which brings up a good point. Where are we going to be living?”

Surprise was evident in his eyes. “You’d move to Dogwood?”

“I’d move to the ends of the earth to be with my country boy.”

Her reply gained her a deep kiss before he pulled back and spoke. “Well, I can’t say we won’t be spending a lot of time in Dogwood—my family is pretty close-knit. But I think during the school year, the kids need to be here in Bramble. This is their home, and they’ve been through enough upheavals in their lives.”

This time Shirlene gave him a kiss. When she pulled back, she couldn’t help asking, “What if it turns out that Wynn Murdock killed your grandfather? Will your family ever be able to forgive me?”

He eased her on top of him. “I think my family is going to love you as much as Beau does—” He hesitated. “Well, hopefully, not that much. I’d hate to have to beat the tar out of all my brothers.”

“I think you’re being awful optimistic, Billy Cates,” she said. “Especially if my relative was the one who started The Cates Curse.”

After adjusting her legs until she straddled him, he sent her a wicked smile.

“What curse? Because from where I lie, Sugar Buns, my life looks like nothin’ but blessin’s.”

“I
SHOULD BE MAD AT YOU
, you know?” Shirlene gathered her Vera Wang wedding dress around her and sat down on the rickety steps. “Josephine went to all the trouble to make my favorite chocolate cake, and you ruined it by being a gluttonous pig.”

Sherman snorted and flopped down at her feet, remnants of chocolate icing still clinging to his upside-down, heart-shaped snout. Shirlene laughed and scratched his head. Even if he had jumped up on the table and devoured half her wedding cake before Billy and Jesse had gotten to him, she couldn’t hold a grudge. Sherman was family. And everyone knew you forgave family just about anything.

“It was a beautiful weddin’, wasn’t it, Piglet? The First Baptist Church looked so pretty, and Pastor Robbins’ vows were so beautiful. And you couldn’t ask for a better place for a reception.” Shirlene looked out at the crowd of townsfolk that filled the lot around her trailer.

Beneath a canopy of September stars and strings of colored Christmas lights, her friends and family seemed
to be enjoying themselves. Numerous folks were on the dance floor Kenny Gene and Rye had put down, including Colt, who whirled Hope around like a purple top in her ugly maid-of-honor dress. Over by the refreshment table, Faith stood talking to Billy’s mama and daddy, who had made the trip out from Dogwood. Billy’s parents each held a baby. But since Daffodil and Daisy looked so much alike, Shirlene wasn’t sure who was who until one let out a bloodcurdling scream that rivaled her mama’s hog calls.

Billy’s brothers, Beau and Beckett, were there as well. Beckett looked exactly like Billy, right down to the sexy, brown eyes and wavy hair. He stood next to Beau, listening to a story Kenny Gene was relating, completely unaware of the looks being tossed his way by all the flustered women. Brant and Brianna were the only ones who hadn’t come from Billy’s family. Shirlene had been upset, but Billy said to give them time. They were the stubborn ones in the family and would come around eventually.

A flash of lavender caught Shirlene’s eye, and she turned to see Mia headed for the hole in the hedge. The young girl had yet to warm up to the town and was no doubt hiding out. Still, she looked so much happier since Shirlene and Billy had signed the adoption papers. Her long bleached hair was gone, and short jet black curls framed a face that was no longer as haunted as it had once been. Before she slipped through the hedge, Mia stopped to get after Jesse for something. But Jesse paid no attention to his sister and tore off across the yard with one of Tyler Jones’s kids, the tail of his tuxedo shirt flapping behind him.

Shirlene didn’t worry about Jesse. The boy was a survivor and would no doubt own half of Texas by the time
he was twenty. And Brody wouldn’t be far behind him. In the last few weeks, the three-year old’s vocabulary had grown from one word to thousands. He talked more than Kenny Gene. Even now, the little boy was sitting at one of the picnic tables between Harley Sutter and Naked Barbie, shoveling in the emergency store-bought cake and chattering up a storm.

“Are you about ready to call it a night, Mrs. Cates?”

Billy’s familiar twang poured over Shirlene like a gentle summer rain, and she turned and looked up into the soft chocolate love of her husband’s eyes.

“Mmm, Mrs. Cates,” she said. “I like the sound of that.”

“No more than I do, Shirley Girl,” Billy said as he adjusted his arms around a sleeping Adeline before placing a kiss on her golden curls. “Addie’s all tuckered out from dancing. I swear I didn’t know a little sprout could last so long. She must’ve sweet-jabbered every man in town to take her for a spin.” He winked. “It appears she’s as big a flirt as her mama.”

“More like her daddy.” Shirlene rose to her feet, causing Sherman to grumble when he was forced to move.

Hooking an arm around her waist, Billy pulled her close. “Not anymore, Cinnamon Muffins. I’ve met my match.”

“Damn straight.” Shirlene leaned in to give him a kiss, but the loud rumble of a truck had her turning toward the road.

The crowd separated as a monster truck pulled into the lot, its deep-treaded tires rolling right up to the steps. The door swung open, and Slate Calhoun jumped down, wearing a sexy tuxedo and a Stetson—and a wide grin.

“Damn, I love this truck,” he said as he tossed Billy the keys.

Billy laughed. “I’ll tell you what, Calhoun. You win another state championship this season, and I might just let you borrow her.”

Slate’s eyes lit up. “Now that’s a deal.”

After handing out kisses to all the kids and multiple instructions to Billy’s parents, who would be staying with them while Billy and Shirlene were on their honeymoon, Shirlene allowed Billy to help her up into the truck.

Once the door was slammed, he turned to her. “So how come you haven’t asked me where I’m taking you on our honeymoon?”

She shrugged. “Maybe because I don’t care where we go or what we do. There’s only one thing I need in life.”

“And what’s that?”

Shirlene flashed him her brightest smile. “A little Bubba-lovin’.”

Billy pulled her close and growled, “Mine.”

The town of Bramble watched as the truck wheeled around the lot and headed down the dirt road with beer cans clanking. The words that were shoe-polished in the back window,
Hitched For Good
, had barely disappeared in the darkness when Harley spoke up.

“Well, I guess that settles that.”

Rachel Dean swiped at her eyes. “It sure does. Faith, Hope, and Shirlene are all married off.”

Sheriff Winslow heaved a sad sigh. “Won’t be much excitement around town now.”

“Pert near none at all,” Rye Pickett agreed.

Kenny Gene’s face fell. “Does that mean the party’s over?”

No one answered. They all just turned and shuffled back to their warm beers and Solo cups of sweet tea. Only one person remained. One person who stood with his ninety-year-old eyes squinted at the road.

“Dad-gum fools,” Moses Tate grumbled to the chocolate-smeared pig at his feet. “They don’t even realize that the eldest Cates ain’t gonna give up until he finds them bones and has his revenge. ’Course,” he shrugged, “if people don’t ask, I ain’t one to tell.”

The pig smiled.

S
LATE
C
ALHOUN SAT BACK
in the dark corner and watched the woman in the conservative pants and brown sweater take another sip of her beer as if it was tea time at Buckingham Palace. Hell, she even held her little pinkie out. If that was Hope Scroggs then he was Prince Charles. And he was no pansy prince.