Kristine Rolofson.
Boots And Booties.
Chapter 1.
February 14th.
Adelaide Larson knew she was likely to regret stepping through the doorway ofBilly's, a bar with the largest dance floor north ofAustinandaffectionatelyknown as the "meet market" of centralTexas. Next door were two motels, and adiner open till three in the morning, so Billy's was nothing if not convenientfor an evening out on the town.
"You know," Addie said to her friend, "I'm not the luckiest person in theworld. I could jinx you for the whole night."
"Quit fussing," Kate said, giving her a nudge to walk faster. "And smile,will you? You look like you're going to an execution."
"I'm not ready for this." "This" was a Valentine's party, with no covercharge for the ladies and red roses to be given out atmidnight. The amount ofred and pink crepe paper streamers hanging from the ceiling was almostobscene, along with the clusters of red and white balloons that filled thecorners of the enormous room. Bars lined opposite sides of the building, and acountry-western band blasted an old Garth Brooks tune from a stage across theroom. The place was filled with people. And smoke. And dancing, drinking,flirting couples.
Addie thought it was like visiting a foreign country.
"You'll feel better once you have a drink," her friend assured her, but Addiewasn't so sure. This kind of thing was easy for Kate, who was different fromanyone else Addie knew. Kate had been divorced for almost four years, andthrived on the single life, which is why Addie had decided that her return tothe dating world would be chaperoned by an expert.
"I haven't danced since my wedding reception, you know." Which seemed like a century ago, when she was young and pretty and full of dreams. And Jack-no,best not to think about him right now. "I don't think I remember-"
"It's too late to back out now. Your mother's watching the kids and you'refree for as long as you want to be. We're going to meet some men and have agood time." She took Addie's arm and hauled her toward the closest bar."First, a drink. You don't have to dance if you don't want to. We'll see ifthere's anyone here we know Give it an hour and if you're really miserable,we'll leave, I promise."
"All right." But she wouldn't leave, Addie thought. Not right away Part ofher wanted to be back home, tucking in her children and watching the latestepisode ofThe Bachelor on television, but she was so tired of being alone atnight in that sad, little bedroom at the top of the stairs. Getting drunk in abar on Valentine's Day wasn't exactly the best alternative, but one rum andCoke and a little adult company wouldn't kill her. "I'll do my best."
"Good. Smile. Look like you're having a good time."
"What?" They were closer to the band now and Addie couldn't hear. Kate ledher through the crowd clustered around the bar and managed to catch thebartender's eye.
"A beer and-"
"Rum and Coke," Addie shouted. Kate grinned, and three men turned their headsto stare. Men always stared at Kate. She was tall and slender, with long,black hair that waved past her shoulders and halfway to her waist. When sheturned her blue eyes on men of any age, they did everything but drop to theirknees and kiss her snakeskin boots. Addie, on the other hand, was not theleast bit statuesque, with nothing about her to make men stop and stare withtheir mouths hanging open. The only guys who lit up when she walked throughthe door were five years old and dependent on her for food.
Which is why she'd let Kate fix her makeup and redo her chin-length hair intosomething spiky and, as Kate said, "totally hot." Which meant her light brownhair now had gold highlights and gelled tips. She'd borrowed one of Kate'sice-white Lycra T-shirts, with a modest rounded neck, but refused to wiggleinto a pair of jeans that hung below her belly button. As she'd told Kate, awoman who'd once given birth to twins had no business strutting around withher stomach exposed.
"You look good," Kate said into her ear after she handed Addie her drink."But you're still wincing, like you'd rather be helping out at thekindergarten than dancing the two-step with some good-looking guy."
"I would."
"Pretend." Kate laughed, prompting several jean-clad men to step closer andstart a conversation. Addie sipped from the plastic cup and tried to rememberwhat it was like when she was young, single and sure that life was going toturn out exactly the way she wanted it to. But that was a long time ago, andshe was tired of thinking about it and, inevitably, feeling sorry for herself.
Which was not at all attractive.
And even boring.
"Wanna dance?"
She looked up from her drink to see a pleasant-looking young man holding outhis hand to her. "Uh-"
"Go." Kate plucked the cup from her hand and set it on the bar. "Have fun."
"Well-" She hesitated, but no one seemed to notice. She was lonely. So lonelythat the pain of it threatened to eat her from the inside out. She wondered ifanyone could see it, that loneliness seeping out of her skin and turning hergray and cold. She wondered if there was anyone else in this giant room whounderstood what it was like to live with that unending feeling of loss.
"Cool." The kid-she couldn't help wondering if he was old enough todrink-took her hand and hauled her out to the dance floor. Addie attempted asmile and told herself it was time she got on with her life.
At Billy's and everywhere else.
Calhad been damn glad to get to town, even though he'd gotten in later thanhe'd planned. He needed a few cold beers to wash the dust down tonight. It hadbeen one hell of a week, but he was free now, and tomorrow was Sunday, meaningan easy day with few chores and an afternoon to do whatever he damn wellpleased. It wasn't until he noticed the number of cars packed into the parkinglot, and beyond, in a nearby field, that he remembered it was Valentine's Day.
Which, if he remembered correctly, was an easy day to get laid if you were ayoung guy with any kind of brains. But he wasn't young and he wasn't feelingparticularly intelligent, either. Not that he wouldn't react if a pretty,young thing winked at him, but those days were pretty much long gone. He'dgotten used to things the way they were, meaning he was fast dosing in onforty and he sure as hell was no prize. The women had stopped flirting yearsago, and so had he.
ButCalwasthirsty. And Billy's always had pretty good music and a crowd worthwatching. A man could lean on the bar and get an eyeful of good-looking ladlesin skimpy tops and tight jeans while he drank a beer or two and rememberedwhat it was like to be young and crazy.
He wasn't disappointed either, once he'd handed over the cover charge andmade his way through those pink streamers hanging from the ceiling. He kickeda few balloons out of his way as he walked to the closest corner of the bar.The noise was almost deafening and the place was packed wall-to-wall withpeople having a good time.
Calordered a beer and watched a tall, black-haired beauty hold court at anearby table, one of the few that lined the wall farthest from the band. Shechose to dance with a heavyset man who looked like he wrestled steers for aliving. They disappeared onto the dance floor, leaving a blond woman at thetable with a handful of guys who didn't look pleased to be leftbehind.Calwatched the blonde refuse to dance with any of them, which meant shewas either married or ticked off about something. She looked young-not yetthirty, he guessed. Not that he could see her face very well, but he figuredshe must be pretty decent-looking or she'd be sitting by herself.
Calshifted, his attention distracted by the arrival of his beer and aquestion from a redhead who wanted him to pass her the ashtray by his elbow.By the time he thought about the blonde again, she was long gone from thatback table. He supposed she'd given up and danced with someone after all,soCaleyed the band, drank another beer and relaxed. He didn't have anything to complain about: he was off the ranch and had money in his wallet and gas inhis truck, which was paid for as of two weeks ago.
He stayed for over an hour, long enough to quench his thirst and feel humanagain. He'd talked to some old friends he hadn't seen for months, discussedthe weather with a couple of ranchers' sons who were up to no good and laughedwith one of the bartenders over the commotion a Shania Twain look-alike was causing due to her low-cut jeans and halter top. It wasaftermidnightwhenCaldecided he'd had enough. Oh, a few years back he'd haveasked two or three women to dance-he did a respectable two-step and a damnfine waltz-but now he'd been content to watch from the sidelines. The bar had become uncomfortably crowded and he'd grown tired of being elbowed andjostled.
"I'm so sorry." A soft voice interrupted his thoughts about leaving,especially when he looked down into a pair of blue eyes swimming in unshedtears.
"About what?" For the life of him, he couldn't understand why the womanlooked upset. She was pretty-despite the weird brownish-blond hair and toomuch eye makeup-with flawless, pale skin, and lips that could tempt a man toforget his age. She was in her twenties, he guessed. Too young for an oldcowboy, he reminded himself. But there was something familiar about her, aface he'd seen before somewhere.
Her gaze dropped to his boots, and he looked down to see them covered inliquid. "I just spilled my drink on your boots," she said. Yeah, she had. Andthe world was going to keep on spinning. "I didn't mean to, of course, butsomebody hit my arm."
"Is that why you're crying?"
Her chin lifted, a stubborn chin in a heart-shaped face. "I'm not crying."
"My mistake."
She set her empty cup on the bar. "Your boots-"
"Have survived worse," he interjected. They were new, his Christmas presentto himself, but he figured they'd clean up okay. "Can I buy you another?"
"Another drink?"
"Yeah."
"Oh, no. Thanks." There was the briefest smile before she looked sad again."I think I'm going to go home now." She looked toward the table where theblack-haired woman he'd noticed earlier stood cozying up to a guy large enoughto have played linebacker for UT. She was the blond he'd noticed before, theone refusing to dance with her friend's admirers.
"What about your friend?" He gestured toward the tall, laughing woman.
"She said she had a ride home." Again, there was that brief smile, then aflash of pain in her eyes when she glanced up at him.
"You don't come here very often, do you." He didn't ask it as a question. Thewoman clearly looked over her head in a bar loaded with singles trying to hookup and couples whose intentions for later on were obvious.
"This is my first time at Billy's. And probably my last," she admitted,sounding as disappointed as if she'd just flunked out of school. He wanted tochuckle, but he thought he'd hurt her feelings if he did. She looked so damndepressed about being here, and a few moments ago he'd thought she was goingto start crying.
"So," he said, feeling ridiculously protective and more than a littleintrigued, "your friend dragged you here to have a good time."
"Yes. But it didn't quite work out that way."
"Why not?" He set his empty beer bottle on the counter of the bar and leanedcloser so he could hear her words better. "You were hoping to meet someone,right?" He took her hand in his as the band started a country rendition of"The Tennessee Waltz." There was no law that said he couldn't change his mindand ask a lady to dance.
"No," she said, looking down at his hand clasping hers.
"No, you won't dance with me? Or no, you weren't hoping to meet somebody?" Hedidn't wait for an answer. Instead he kept her hand in his and eased throughthe crowd, making room for both of them to move away from the bar and getcloser to the dance floor. A lot of other couples had the same idea, becausethe area was filling up fast.
"Neither, I guess."
"Good answer. Where are you from?"
"Austin," she said, looking up at him. "And you?"
"Nowhere." She tilted her head as if she thought he was joking, so he smiled."Really. You've never heard of Nowhere?"
"A man from nowhere," she murmured. "Perfect. I've always liked this song,"she said, as he took her in his arms. She placed her hand on his shoulder andlooked up at him. "I guess one dance won't hurt."
Looking back,Calwasn't sure how it happened. Oh, they danced a few more slowtunes together-the band was loading up the set with love songs in honor ofValentine's Day-and they talked easily about books and movies and music whenthe band took a break between sets. And when the music started again,Calheldher closer and she rested her cheek against his chest. He decided he liked thefeel of that warm, little body against his, and maybe she wasn't too young forhim after all. It had been years since he'd met a woman he might want to knowbetter.
And he didn't even know her name.
So when she said she had to leave, he offered to walk her to her car like anytrue gentleman would. He would ask for her name and phone number.
"I have pepper spray on my key chain," she told him, hesitating at the doorto grab a hooded jacket from a heaping coatrack. It was raining again. "I'llbe fine."
"It's still not a good idea for a lady to walk alone in parking lotsaftermidnight,"Calsaid. Maybe she'd want to have dinner sometime. Or maybe hewas being foolish even thinking about dating anyone.
And when she unlocked her car door and turned to thank him, he felt ten feettall. He'd enjoyed himself, he told her.
"Thanks for being so nice about your boots. And thanks for the company." Shesurprised him by reaching up and kissing his cheek. He'd turned his head tosay good-night at the same time, so his lips brushed hers. But it didn't stopat a mere touching of lips, because he leaned closer and kissed her again,this time with a deliberate meeting of mouths that threatened to drop themboth to the dirt. Her arms reached, clung to his neck, while he held her warmbody against his and kissed her with an unexpected need of his own. Theirtongues met and mated. His hands swept her back and tugged her shirt from thewaistband of her jeans so he could slide his hands along the warm, bare skinof her back. She didn't stop him, simply moved closer, as if being touched byhim was exactly what she wanted, right now, right here.
"Get a room," someone called, followed by male and female laughter.
He was crazy, caressing a strange woman in a parking lot behind a bar. Helifted his head, but only a fraction of an inch.
"I have to go," she whispered against his mouth, but she didn't pull away.Despite the cold rain that wet their heads and ran down their faces, he keptholding her in the darkness. Her mouth was warm against his, and his bandsswept low, cupping her bottom.
"Don't go," he said, pulling her tight against him.Calknew need when hetasted it. "Not yet."
"Okay."
He didn't know how long they kissed out there in the darkness, but he knew itwas never going to be enough. By the time he paused to catch his breath, hecould feel the rain dripping past his collar, onto his neck. It was like beingcrazy, with no thoughts in his head except how good she felt and how sweet shetasted. "You want to stop?"
"Not yet," she said, echoing his earlier words. Her small hands were insidehis shirt, and he would have tossed it to the ground if they'd been anywherebut the parking lot at Billy's. She gasped when he lifted her into his arms.
"What are you doing?"
"Getting out of the rain." He strode past the rows of cars, toward the neonVacancy sign in the window of the Sleepy Time Motel, the newer one of the twofacing the main road. "Getting some privacy."
He listened for her protest, but she wrapped her arms around his neck andrested her head on his shoulder as if he had been carrying her to bed foryears. He didn't know if she'd stay or not. He didn't know what was going tohappen in the next few hours. But kissing her was like coming alive againafter along, cold winter. And he thought she might feel the same way.
So, what the hell.
He carried her right into the empty lobby, a small room with a counter and acouple of vinyl chairs. He was afraid if he let her go, she'd disappear, so herang the bell and waited for someone to show up from the back room. Gettinghis wallet out of his back pocket took some doing, but within a couple ofminutes, the yawning old man had given him a key and a room number.
"You've done this before," she said, looking up at him with an uncertainexpression.
"A few times, for friends who were too drunk to drive home."Calpushed thedoor open with his foot and stepped out into the rain once again. "Believe itor not," he said, holding her closer against him to shield her from theweather, "this is the first time with, uh, female company."
"Female company," she repeated, then smiled. "That sounds so old-fashioned."
"I'm an old-fashioned guy." He found the right door and was forced to set thewoman on her feet so he could unlock it. Once the door swung open, theyhurried inside to the stuffy interior.Calshut the door behind them and didn'tturn on the lights; the glow from the streetlight through the picture windowwas enough to outline the furniture. The bed-its wide mattress looking as bigasTexas-was easily visible.
"I've never done anything like this before, either," she whispered. He tookher cold hands in his and tried to warm them with his own. "Kiss me," shesaid. "So I don't think about changing my mind."
"I will kiss you for as long as you like."Calbrushed his mouth against hers.Her lips were cold and her cheeks were wet. "All night, even."
"I don't have all night." She pulled her hands away from his and reached forhis shirt, which was still unbuttoned. Her touch threatened his self-control,but he did his best to keep from lifting her onto the bed and tumbling down onthe mattress on top of her. He kissed her mouth, her jaw, her ear, while herfingers smoothed his chest and drove him to the edge of sanity. He backed upto the bed and sat down, the blue-eyed woman standing between his open knees.She shrugged off her damp jacket and tossed it aside, leavingCalfree to lifther T-shirt. She quickly pulled it over her head and dropped it to the floor.
"You'renot married, are you?" He set his mouth over one lace-covered breast,and she held her breath, as if afraid to move and stop him. His hands framedher waist, but he felt her sigh and tremble.
She hesitated for the briefest of moments. "No. You?"
"No." And he had never been happier about that in his entire life. Shesmelled like roses and vanilla, looked like a goddess and-for now-she was allhis.
"Have you ever been?" It took a moment for the question to register, sincehe'd grown harder with every second he'd kissed her.Calreached behind her andunhooked the bra's catch, then eased the straps down her arms.
"No,"Calmanaged to reply, despite the tempting vision of a half-naked womanstanding in front of him. Her breasts were beautiful, soft and round, andthankfully she made no move to cover them. "Never."
His heart in his throat,Calwatched her unsnap her jeans and kick off herboots before she stepped closer to him. He stood, removing his own boots andclothing in record time, and reached for her, a lovely silhouette in the dimlight of the room.
Skin to skin, mouth to mouth, Calvin George Ennis McDonald figured he'd diedand gone to heaven. The woman in his arms was passionate and warm, soft anddemanding, all satin skin and hot need. Somehow they managed to toss thebed-covers aside and land together on the bed, neither noticing the cold temperature of the sheets. And somehow Cal managed to remember the condom hekept in his wallet-a habit left over from a wild youth-and when he would haveslowed down, she urged him closer. And then he was between her legs, and withone smooth motion he was inside of all that tight, female warmth.
Her eyes were closed, but she grasped his shoulders and lifted her hips tomeet his thrusts. She urged him deeper, andCal, too long without a woman,didn't even try to slow down. She climaxed quickly, her hands pressed tight onhis arms.Calgave in to the pure pleasure of her body and, with a few quickthrusts, found his own release.
He'd shocked himself. Not with his need, for it had been a long time sincehe'd made love to a woman, but because he didn't have sex with strangers. Andhere in the bed was a woman whose name he didn't know, who still had her eyesclosed when he rolled off her and onto his back.