Authors: Carolyn Brown
The sun had come out and the roads were wet and slushy instead of slippery. In the median and off to the sides, grass still sparkled with sleet in shady places but the rest was melting fast. Texas might have ice or even snow on occasion but it didn’t last long, and for that Pearl was grateful. The few times she’d had to drive on icy roads gave her an acute case of the hives, but it wasn’t driving in hazardous conditions that made her jumpy; it was the steaming hot cowboy in the seat beside her.
She pulled off at the next exit and nosed her car into a prime parking space right in front of the store. Her stomach growled and she bit back a string of cuss words that would have scalded the paint off her Caddy. If she’d have listened to her mother, she would have been in Savannah, Georgia, that day with the rest of her family at her grandma’s place. She would have been eating turkey and dressing, candied yams, baked beans, and her grandma’s famous hot rolls. Afterwards she would have gone out and had a long walk in the gardens behind the old plantation house, and if the sun was out, she might have even stretched out on a blanket and read one of those sinfully thick romance books for a couple of hours.
“Can I get you something? Coffee? Coke? Candy bar?” He reached across the seat and laid a hand on her arm, unconsciously making lazy circles with his thumb.
How in the devil could a single square inch of skin build such a big old bonfire in her gut? If his thumb on her arm could make her tingle, then what would it feel like to… she quickly shook the notion from her head.
He swallowed hard and said, “I’ll only be gone a minute.”
If he was gone much longer than that she intended to leave him at the station. He could thumb a ride the rest of the way home. He’d already kept her up half the night with his dog and problems with young girls. But when he shook his jeans down over his boot tops and swaggered toward the door, she forgot all about the dog, the girls, and even Georgiana’s spider. Her pulse kicked into a higher gear when she looked at his backside. He filled out his jeans very well, and his broad shoulders left no doubt that it was hard muscles filling up that jean jacket and not air. The wind whipped his hair into his face and he pushed it back away from his eyes.
“The devil has brown eyes like that,” she mumbled as he disappeared into the store. “And probably wears blue jeans and boots just like that too. And I bet he’s got a thumb with pure fire in it too!”
Wil bought a dozen Krispy Kreme donuts in a box, two cups of coffee, and a bag of potato chips. If he’d had to wait in line he might have purchased a few candy bars and a couple of packages of peanut butter crackers too. Everything he looked at made his mouth water.
“Not a very fancy Christmas dinner,” the lady checker said.
“Looks like the food of the gods to me this morning,” he said.
She winked. “Wife done threw you out?”
“Something like that.”
She smiled and flirted. “Well, I get off at one. You want to hang around I’ll take you home and make you a proper Christmas dinner.”
He handed her a bill and she made change. “Thanks but I got someone waiting in the car.”
“No wonder your wife throwed you out in the yard if you been cheatin’ on her.”
“Stuff happens,” he threw over his shoulder as he picked up his purchases and made his escape.
“You must be hungry,” Pearl said when he’d settled back in the Caddy.
He handed her a cup of coffee and brushed her fingertips on purpose in the transfer. “It’s hot. Be careful.”
She sipped the coffee gingerly. “Thank you.”
“I bought plenty. Help yourself to a couple of donuts.”
Her cell phone set up a ringtone with Zac Brown Band singing about having his toes in the water and his ass in the sand. She fished it out of her purse, smiled when she saw the name, and said, “Hello.”
Wil wasn’t two feet from her so there was nothing to do but eavesdrop. The man on the other end was talking so loud that he could even hear that end of the conversation if he paid close attention… which he did.
“My sweet Pearl. Where were you last night? I went to Emily’s Christmas party and you weren’t there. Damn thing fell flat without our Pearl to make us laugh. Were you slow makin’ the rounds? You always end up at Em’s party last. Tell me where in the hell have you run off to?”
“Brett, darlin’, I’m in Henrietta runnin’ a motel and I couldn’t leave. I missed all you guys. I’m glad y’all missed me too,” she said.
“Well, if you’re in town over the holidays, call me. We’ll run down to Dallas and maybe catch a play,” he said.
“I won’t be this year. Just got things up and going. If you’re ever over here give me a call,” she answered.
“You got it but don’t hold your breath. Merry Christmas, sweet Pearl,” he said.
“Old boyfriend?” Wil asked.
She shook her head. “Just an old friend that I date sometimes.”
“With benefits, sweet Pearl?”
“None of your business.”
“Want a donut?” He chuckled.
“The coffee is enough. And to think, I could have been in Savannah for dinner.” She wished she could reach out in the air, grab the words, and put them back in her mouth. She had no intentions of spilling her guts to this man, whether he was a killer or not.
“Savannah, Georgia?”
She nodded.
“Who lives there?”
“My grandmother. Where are you going for Christmas dinner?” She steered the conversation away from herself. She might be pouting but she was bound, damned, and determined to prove her mother wrong about the motel and her decision to leave her cushy bank job.
Wil ate a donut in three bites and took a sip of coffee. Pearl Richland was one of those fast women who lived for the next good time. Not surprising with her looks, build, and sass.
“I had the big dinner thing yesterday down in Bowie with my family. I got sisters older than me with enough kids to outfit two or three orphanages. My momma and daddy are retired and live down south of Bowie. My sisters live in Chico so they’re all close. We all go home on Christmas Eve and do the big traditional thing with food and presents. Then on Christmas they can do whatever with their own families and Momma and Daddy usually go to my grandma’s place down in Decatur. She’s ninety years old but she still expects her only child to come see her on Christmas. They load up the leftovers and have dinner with her.”
“She lives alone?”
“Yes, ma’am. Ain’t a nursing home that would have her, she’s so cantankerous.” He polished off a second donut and licked his sticky fingertips. “Sure you don’t want one? I’ll feed it to you while you drive.”
“No thank you.” Pearl shivered at the thought of him putting his fingers anywhere near her mouth.
“Granny still runs a few head of cattle. Says she’ll retire when she’s a hundred. Us Marshalls have a long life. My grandpa was just shy of a hundred when he passed last year. Kind of like your Aunt Pearlita.”
Pearl giggled. “She’d roll over in her grave if she heard you say such a thing. I’m not sure you could get into heaven after such vile words spew forth from your mouth. She was eighty-three and always claimed to be ten years younger than that.”
“She did have spunk. I only knew her the few times my electricity blew and I had to come into town for either heat or air conditioning, but I could tell she was full of spit and vinegar.”
A helluva lot like you!
he thought.
Did anyone ever tell you that you are cute as a button when you smile and those green eyes light up?
“Yes, she was. You want me to take you to your ranch or back to the motel?” she asked as they neared the outskirts of Henrietta.
“Ranch please. I’ll bring a truck with extra tires and an air pump later and get my vehicle out of your parking lot. I’ll have to get someone to ride along with me to bring my truck home. I gave my foreman a couple of days off to spend with his family so it could be until he comes back.”
She glanced at the donut box and wished she had one, but there was no way that she’d let him feed her, not when the touch of his thumb turned her inside out. “Tell me when to turn.”
“My ranch is north of Henrietta, going toward Petrolia. So turn left at the Petrolia sign.”
She slowed down and looked at each sign closely, making the turn while he was tearing into the bag of chips. He held them toward her and she shook her head.
“I know you took a chunk out of your day to help me. Could I take you to dinner to repay you for it?” One little dinner date to pay for the favor and then he’d be out of Miss Richland’s life so fast it would tilt the world off its axis.
“Hell, no!”
He dropped the chip bag in his lap. “That was pretty damn quick.”
“Quick and honest. Dinner wouldn’t come close to repaying me for the time I lost.”
He’d never had a woman turn him down flat before. Looking back, he’d never had a woman turn him down at all. “Make a right at the next section line.”
She turned into the lane and saw the two-story house at the end of the lane. It was painted white with a wide front porch that would offer shade in the summer. Digger gave a few yips and bounded down the three steps and ran around Wil’s legs when he got out of the car.
“Thanks again,” Wil said as he leaned into the car’s backseat to retrieve his duffel bag. “You ever change your mind about that dinner, you just call and I’ll be glad to take you out.”
“You really want to repay me, drive down to the Longhorn Inn and help me clean rooms all afternoon.”
Pearl couldn’t believe she was turning down a date. It didn’t have to be a lifetime commitment and he did owe her, but something told her to steer clear of Wil Marshall. He was one of those wolves running around in sheep’s clothing. A bad boy in good guy Wranglers.
He grinned and waved over his shoulder.
Just what I thought. He’s not about to clean rooms, but oh my! He does fill out those blue jeans just right!
She backed out of his driveway and headed home to an afternoon of laundry and cleaning.
Lunch was a peanut butter sandwich eaten standing up in front of the dryer as she waited on a load of towels to finish. She reached the last room she’d cleaned, slung open the door, and picked up four white bath towels and an equal number of washcloths and hand towels from her maid’s cart. She stacked the towels on the rack above the toilet, set out complimentary bottles of shampoo, conditioner, and lotion, and put tiny motel soaps on the edge of the tub and beside the sink.
She stacked the sheets and comforter on the desk top and set to making beds, but her thoughts went to the cowboy on the other side of the truck. With those tight-fitting jeans and those devil-may-care eyes, he could run James Dean some competition. Slick back his dark hair, roll up the sleeves of a white T-shirt, and dangle a cigarette from those sexy lips and… she drew her thoughts up short with a sigh. Bad boys! She had to stop thinking about them in general and Wil Marshall in particular.
She shook out the bottom sheet on the first bed and stretched it over the mattress. But her thoughts wouldn’t be still. She could still visualize Wil with a pack of cigarettes rolled up in his shirt sleeve, sitting on the fender of her vintage Caddy and pushing back a lock of dark hair that kept falling on his forehead. Her fingers itched to see if his hair was as soft as it looked. And did he have a fine sprinkling of chest hair that she could nuzzle down into after a hot bout of…
“Shit! What has gotten into me? It’s because I’ve stagnated for so long—but then when and where would I meet a man in a town this size? And besides, I’m tied to the motel seven nights a week. Now I understand the real look of all those young entrepreneurs who wanted loans. It wasn’t because they were fired up and eager to set the world on fire. It was loss of sleep and social life.”
She shut her eyes and a picture of her last boyfriend, Marlin, appeared. He’d been the closest thing to a lasting relationship she’d ever had and she’d thought she was ready to settle down, to really forget about Vince. Marlin Johnson was a preppie with blond hair styled weekly to feather back perfectly. He wore three-pieced suits tailor made to fit his lanky frame, red power ties, and loafers with tassels. His cologne was expensive and subtle. And her mother loved him, so he had to be the right man for her. Right?
Wrong! With all capital letters and shouted from the backside of a bullhorn.
They’d dated nine months a couple of years ago and she really thought she had found the right man, but it all came to a screeching halt one evening over dinner. He’d found the love of his life in the form of a grad student who’d taken one of his classes. She had long blond hair, big fake boobs, and a high squeaky voice.
A spider scampered across the motel room floor and Pearl stomped it. Felt right good, it did! Almost as good as if she could have put a pin in Miss Big Boob’s silicone implants.
Texas is the buggiest state in the union and has more bugs than all other forty-nine states combined. I’ve probably put the damn exterminator’s kids through medical school, but I won’t have anyone saying I run a nasty business. So make sure the crickets, ants, and scorpions are all dead and vacuumed.
Aunt Pearlita’s words were as real as if she’d been standing right behind Pearl.