One Night Rodeo (32 page)

“Let you. You do whatever the hell you want.” Tierney rolled her eyes. “Besides, you look like death warmed over, so no working livestock. It’s supposed to be your day off, Hugh.”

“Ain’t no days off in this business,” he said.

“Got that right,” Celia replied.

“I’ve seen you run barrels a coupla times. You’re good. Plans to continue that?”

“Nope.”

“Your husband said he’s done with ridin’ bulls too, which don’t hurt my feelings none. He rode BB last year, and that’s sayin’ something, since he’s the only one.”

Fletch sighed. “You two will talk rodeo all damn day. Come on, Hugh, let’s get this check over with so I can get back to drinkin’ on
my
day off.”

Soon as they were gone, Tierney shook her head. “I worry about Hugh. He’d work twenty-four/seven if Renner let him.”

“No offense, but he looks a little ragged.”

“Hugh’s wife refused to move to Wyoming when Renner relocated the stock business here, and she filed for divorce. Messed him up bad. He’s lost seventy pounds in the last year. Calls it the
divorce diet
. He’s a great guy and he hates when I mother him, so I do it as often as possible.”

“He needs fashion advice from Harper. I’m surprised she hasn’t attempted to make him over.”

“She’s been buying stuff in his size, because the man doesn’t need to lose another pound. When she puts her mind to making him look decent, he won’t know what hit him.” Tierney looped her arm through Celia’s. “Let’s see who won the prizes.”

“More vibrators?”

“Please. Not all the gifts are sexually oriented.” She groaned. “But I’m starting to think that’s what the partygoers would’ve preferred.”

Celia laughed.

Tilda won the name-the-food game and her prize was a cookbook—which she donated to Celia.

Lainie won the name-the-apron-items game and her prize was a bottle of flavored cooking oil—which she also donated to Celia.

“Okay, this is the last question, Celia, so come up here while Tobin pours the shots.” Harper asked, “What do you consider ‘your song’?”

The memory came rushing back. At the concert with Kyle, standing in the wings. Devin had looked at them from center stage and said, “This is dedicated to my hometown friends.” She remembered her belly swooped when she glanced at Kyle and knew he felt it too. Even through her haze of alcohol she’d known. No wonder she’d ended up married to him that night.

“Celia?” Tierney prompted.

“The song is ‘Right in Front of Me’ by Devin McClain.”

“That’s what Kyle said too. Pour this woman a shot.”

“The time has come to open presents!” Harper clapped with glee.

Lainie leaned over. “I’ll admit I snooped in your kitchen cupboards when we visited. I made a list of what you didn’t have and shared it with the shower attendees. Hope you don’t mind.”

“I’m overwhelmed. Thank you.”

The present opening took more than an hour. Celia could not believe
the mountain of household items. Garnet referred to a few items as
bood-war
gifts, like the Hitachi “massager” with attachments and a basket of flavored body oils, and a jumbo bottle of lube. No one fessed up to that one and Celia suspected it was from Tanna.

“There’s one last game to play and it involves the guys, so ladies, make room while we get Celia ready.”

Harper hustled her from the room and led her down the hallway to Wild West Clothiers.

“I don’t have to change clothes, do I?”

“No. First I wanted to give you and Kyle your wedding gift from me’n Bran.” She unlocked the door and flipped on the lights. “It’s up here.”

Curious, Celia followed her to the cash register.

Harper picked up a painting leaning against the wall and turned it around. “I saw you looking at this one when you were shopping. The woman in this picture reminds me of you.”

The picture was a cattle drive scene. A blond-haired woman on horseback was driving cows across the prairie. The sky was that magnificent color of blue that seemed to be found only in Wyoming. The fences were broken down in places. The ground was so dry dust swirled around the cows’ legs. At the forefront of the picture was a man on a horse with his broad back to the viewer as he waited. For just a moment the image came to life. That could be her future with Kyle. The tears she’d sworn she wouldn’t cry sprang to her eyes.

“Harper,” she said hoarsely. “It’s such a stunning gift. I don’t know what to say. Thank you doesn’t seem enough.”

“Now you know how I feel. You sent me to Bran, Celia. I can’t ever repay you for that. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” Then Harper hugged her and they were both crying. And they started giggling because they were crying.

Tierney cleared her throat. “I figured this had happened. You two getting all mushy.”

“Oh, shut up, Tierney. I saw you tearing up when you watched them entwined together on the dance floor at Buckeye Joe’s a few weeks back.”

“Guilty.” She pointed to the painting. “I’m glad that’s going to your
place, Celia. But it makes the Crock-Pot I gave you pale in comparison, huh?”

“But we need a Crock-Pot.”

“Such a diplomat. What are we using for a blindfold, Harper?”

Celia froze. “Blindfold?”

“For the last game.” Tierney snagged a paisley-patterned scarf from a rack. “This’ll work. Turn around.”

Everything went black. Then something was smeared under each nostril. A mint scent wafted up. “What the hell?”

“Don’t be a baby. It’s just a dab of peppermint oil.”

Now Celia was really confused.

“Let’s go.” Tierney led her out.

Noises became louder, but she couldn’t make out any individual voices.

“So, everybody, the first couple of games tested how well Celia and Kyle know each other. This game will test how well she knows him by touch. Celia can’t see. She can’t smell. You all will not give her any hints by making noise. Gentlemen, you will not speak.”

“Boo!” came from the back of the room.

She snickered, recognizing Bernice’s voice.

“Gentlemen, bare your body parts.”

More catcalls.

“Out of ten male arms, you get to figure out which one belongs to Kyle.”

This would be a piece of cake.

Tierney placed Celia’s hand on the first forearm. Celia started at the wrist and smoothed her hand up to the crease in the elbow. Nope. Not Kyle. Too bony. The second forearm was too hairy. The third forearm too thick. The fourth one was close, but not quite.

But when she touched the fifth forearm, she knew. Strong and meaty, with two big veins that bulged across all that rock-hard muscle. She was tempted to stroke her thumb in the crease of his elbow to see if he flinched, because Kyle always did. But she moved on. Taking her time. Keeping a puzzled expression on her face like she couldn’t make up her mind.

“So, do you know which one is your husband’s arm?”

“Number five.”

“You’re sure?”

“Without a doubt.”

“Sure enough to lay a big wet kiss on man number five, even when it might not be him?”

“It
is
him.”

“Why are you so confident?”

“Because I’ve been drooling over Kyle’s arms for a lot longer than just the little time we’ve been married.”

Catcalls rang out.

“Contestant number five, come forward.”

Celia’s heart beat a little faster when the blindfold slipped off. She had a brief glimpse into Kyle’s gleaming eyes right before he kissed the daylights out of her.

Chapter Sixteen

T
he smartest thing he’d ever done was marry this woman.

Kyle picked her up and carried her out of the room as he continued to kiss her. He backed her against the wall.

She blinked those liquid silver eyes at him.

“What?”

“A
blow job
is my favorite drink, Kyle? Really?”

He laughed. “I figured we oughta have some fun with it. I also figured you’d shoot back that my favorite shot was a
wet pussy
.”

“I had no idea that shot even existed.”

He raised his eyebrows. “But you know a drink called
tie me to the bedpost
?”

“I almost said
tie me down and fuck me
,” she retorted.

“We’ll have to try it sometime.”

“The drink?”

Kyle shook his head.

Ooh, look at the flash of interest in Celia’s eyes.

“So what did you ladies do? Sounded like you were havin’ a wild time.”

“Played games. Did some shots. You should see the pile of presents we got.”

“Yeah? How come I didn’t get to help open them?”

Celia rolled her eyes. “Do you even care that the pot holders from Susan match the hand towels and dishrags from Bernice?”

“Point taken.”

“What did you guys do?”

“Talked about ranching. Drank beer. Talked about cattle stuff that I always tuned out before, but this time I paid attention. A few differing opinions.”

She pecked him on the lips. “The only opinion that matters is mine, right?”

Somehow he’d been afraid she’d say that. He changed the subject. “Speaking of Susan…I heard some interesting gossip. She’s considering selling the Buckeye. She’s tired of working all the time.”

“Really? That’d be weird to have someone else own it.”

“We should go dancing there next week,” he murmured, crowding her body with his. “We had a good time last time we went.”

“You aren’t thinking about the dancing part at all. You’re thinking about the vertical bop we did against the building after getting hot and bothered on the dance floor.”

Kyle tucked the veil behind her ear. Bracing his hands by her head, he focused on nuzzling her exposed skin. Her ears, her jaw, her neck, her temple, her hairline. Touching her…yet not.

“Kyle.”

He expanded his attentions to barely-there brushes of his mouth. Soft teases with his breath across her neck, cheek, ear, and temple. A fleeting press of his damp lips.

Celia whimpered softly. “Stop. I can’t function when you flip your seduction button on High.”

“I’ll dial it down a notch. If you do one thing for me.”

“What?”

“It involves the vibrator I heard you won.”

“Okay.”

Kyle peered at her flushed face. “Okay? That was easy. No arguing?”

Her molten gaze hooked his. “You turn me inside out every time you touch me. Why would I ever say no to you?”

He stared at her. Stunned by her acceptance of everything about him. Now was the time to tell her. “Celia. I—”

“Hey, lovebirds,” Harper said, stepping behind them. “You cannot skip out on your own party. Quit screwing around. Get back in there and mingle with your guests.”

“You this bossy with Bran?” Kyle asked.

“When he
lets
her be bossy.” Celia grabbed Kyle’s hand. “We’re going.”

Kyle didn’t have to argue with anyone to keep his wife by his side for the rest of the party. Food was spread out. The bar was hopping. Music started. The instant he and Celia found a place to sit, they were surrounded.

Bernice took Celia’s right side.

Pearl Tschetter sat on his left. She’d worn a very bridelike getup, white lace from her neck to her ankles, including lace gloves, and a puffy fur pimp hat. She carried a martini glass. A long cigarette holder would’ve been the crowning touch. “Now, Kyle, this might be overstepping my boundaries…”

Please don’t give me sex advice.

“But I wanted to mention I knew Marshall Townsend and his wife.”

Not what he’d expected. “You did?”

“Yes. Were you aware my husband owned the implement dealership outside Rawlins?”

Kyle shook his head.

“I did the books, he handled the sales. Anyway, Marshall was a decent fellow, not a particularly happy fellow. We had a Christmas party for our customers and he came every year.” Pearl tossed back her martini. “I’ll be blunt. I hated when his wife came with him. She was such a shrew. So I’m a little torqued off that he didn’t know about you until you were an adult. You might’ve been the one bright spot in his life, Kyle.”

“He could’ve contacted me after he found out I was his son and he didn’t. He left me everything on his deathbed. Not out of guilt, but because he wouldn’t have to look anyone in the eye and admit he’d cheated on his wife, even if his wife was a shrew, even when his wife had been dead for years. Saving face was the only thing that mattered. Not finding happiness and not finding me.” First time Kyle had said that out loud.

Pearl patted his hand. “Did it feel good to get that out?”

“Yeah, actually, it did.”

She drilled him in the chest with a lace-covered fingertip. “That isn’t something you oughta be telling me, boy; that’s something you oughta be sharing with Celia. Marriage rule number one: She is your confidante. Confide in each other before all others, without exception. Marriage rule number two: Don’t be the tough guy with her. She’s had enough of that in her life with the way her brothers raised her. Now that you know what’s in your bloodline, I came by to warn you. Especially now that I’ve heard Marshall had the chance to get to know you and didn’t take it. Don’t be like Marshall. Marriage rule number three: Don’t withhold your emotions from her. I’m not talking affections. Because emotions and affections are totally different things. You understand that, right?”