it at the feet of the nearest
steer.
She pivoted to Reed and shot out her hand. “Keys,”
she demanded.
His gaze rose from her black lace bra to her eyes.
If he didn’t close his mouth, he was going to catch one of those flies.
“Keys!” she snapped, waggling her hand. “You can get
a ride. I need the truck.”
She had to get out of there and go get a shower. The
stuff had soaked through the shirt and touched her skin. Her skin! It was on
her skin!
At the back of her mind she was aware of the
spectacle she was making of herself. The only clean bra she had left this
morning was this flimsy, expensive piece of lingerie she’d bought in a weak
moment, just because it was pretty. And now she was parading around in it, in
front of a dozen or so cowboys.
Reed’s attention was again riveted on the black lace
and what it wasn’t covering, but he’d regained enough sense to dig into his
pocket and he came up with the keys. She grabbed them and stomped off to the
pickup in her boots, jeans, bra, and straw hat.
She climbed up into the red truck, slammed the door and
took off in a hurry, leaving a wake of dust—and several pairs of stunned
eyes—behind her.
*
Lainie arrived at Jackie’s house for supper, bowl of
green salad in hand and stoic expression in place. It’d only been yesterday
she’d shown everybody her pretty black bra, and she’d been tempted to cancel
tonight’s plans, but had told herself that some things in life one just had to
deal with. Putting this one off wasn’t going to make it any easier to handle.
Jackie said nothing when opening the door, just gave
her guest a big toothy grin. Lainie ignored her and headed for the kitchen
where a pot of beans and bacon was simmering.
Her friend’s amused drawl followed her. “I’ve been
asked a question by a whole bunch of people—mostly of the male persuasion—that
I can’t answer. Guess they’re hopin’ I’ll get the answer out of you.”
When Jackie joined her in the kitchen, Lainie
wouldn’t meet her eyes.
“Was that a bikini top you were wearin’ at the
practice arena yesterday, or was it a bra?”
Lainie opened the oven door. The cornbread was
starting to brown. She helped herself to dishes in the cabinet and set the tiny
kitchen table for the two of them.
“It was black and lacy, I heard, very pretty and
downright sexy. Is that right?”
Lainie got napkins and utensils and placed them
around the plates.
“And skimpy, real skimpy. Didn’t cover up a whole
lot, I heard.”
Lainie leaned back against the sink, folded her arms
and attempted to stare Jackie down. Jackie leaned against the refrigerator,
folded her arms and won the staring contest hands down.
“So far as I can tell, the reason these menfolk have
been asking, is that they want to know where you bought it so they can get the
same thing for their significant others. You made quite a hit, girl.”
“Jackie, that cow—steer, whatever it was, it—”
“I know what it did. But what’s going down in
everybody’s memory is what you did.”
Lainie leaned her head back and stared at the
ceiling.
“Heavens to Betsy,” Jackie went on without mercy.
“Wish I’d been there. A show like that and I had to miss it.”
“Is that pot of beans almost ready?”
“What else were you wearin’? Haven’t heard much
about the rest of your attire. Seems everybody’s attention was riveted on that
black, lacy, see-through thing you had on up top.”
“I’m going to mix the salad. You’d better check that
cornbread. I don’t want to eat it burnt on the bottom.”
“Reckon it’s a good thing that steer didn’t get
anything on your jeans, too.”
“Oh, Jackie. Enough. Please?”
Jackie’s tickled-pink expression didn’t abate, but
she grabbed potholders and opened the oven door. “Sit down then, and let’s
eat.”
Chapter Twelve
Lainie fed Glory a slice of apple and glanced at the
two empty stalls at the end of the stable. Coco and Misty Morning had moved
steer.
She pivoted to Reed and shot out her hand. “Keys,”
she demanded.
His gaze rose from her black lace bra to her eyes.
If he didn’t close his mouth, he was going to catch one of those flies.
“Keys!” she snapped, waggling her hand. “You can get
a ride. I need the truck.”
She had to get out of there and go get a shower. The
stuff had soaked through the shirt and touched her skin. Her skin! It was on
her skin!
At the back of her mind she was aware of the
spectacle she was making of herself. The only clean bra she had left this
morning was this flimsy, expensive piece of lingerie she’d bought in a weak
moment, just because it was pretty. And now she was parading around in it, in
front of a dozen or so cowboys.
Reed’s attention was again riveted on the black lace
and what it wasn’t covering, but he’d regained enough sense to dig into his
pocket and he came up with the keys. She grabbed them and stomped off to the
pickup in her boots, jeans, bra, and straw hat.
She climbed up into the red truck, slammed the door and
took off in a hurry, leaving a wake of dust—and several pairs of stunned
eyes—behind her.
*
Lainie arrived at Jackie’s house for supper, bowl of
green salad in hand and stoic expression in place. It’d only been yesterday
she’d shown everybody her pretty black bra, and she’d been tempted to cancel
tonight’s plans, but had told herself that some things in life one just had to
deal with. Putting this one off wasn’t going to make it any easier to handle.
Jackie said nothing when opening the door, just gave
her guest a big toothy grin. Lainie ignored her and headed for the kitchen
where a pot of beans and bacon was simmering.
Her friend’s amused drawl followed her. “I’ve been
asked a question by a whole bunch of people—mostly of the male persuasion—that
I can’t answer. Guess they’re hopin’ I’ll get the answer out of you.”
When Jackie joined her in the kitchen, Lainie
wouldn’t meet her eyes.
“Was that a bikini top you were wearin’ at the
practice arena yesterday, or was it a bra?”
Lainie opened the oven door. The cornbread was
starting to brown. She helped herself to dishes in the cabinet and set the tiny
kitchen table for the two of them.
“It was black and lacy, I heard, very pretty and
downright sexy. Is that right?”
Lainie got napkins and utensils and placed them
around the plates.
“And skimpy, real skimpy. Didn’t cover up a whole
lot, I heard.”
Lainie leaned back against the sink, folded her arms
and attempted to stare Jackie down. Jackie leaned against the refrigerator,
folded her arms and won the staring contest hands down.
“So far as I can tell, the reason these menfolk have
been asking, is that they want to know where you bought it so they can get the
same thing for their significant others. You made quite a hit, girl.”
“Jackie, that cow—steer, whatever it was, it—”
“I know what it did. But what’s going down in
everybody’s memory is what you did.”
Lainie leaned her head back and stared at the
ceiling.
“Heavens to Betsy,” Jackie went on without mercy.
“Wish I’d been there. A show like that and I had to miss it.”
“Is that pot of beans almost ready?”
“What else were you wearin’? Haven’t heard much
about the rest of your attire. Seems everybody’s attention was riveted on that
black, lacy, see-through thing you had on up top.”
“I’m going to mix the salad. You’d better check that
cornbread. I don’t want to eat it burnt on the bottom.”
“Reckon it’s a good thing that steer didn’t get
anything on your jeans, too.”
“Oh, Jackie. Enough. Please?”
Jackie’s tickled-pink expression didn’t abate, but
she grabbed potholders and opened the oven door. “Sit down then, and let’s
eat.”
Chapter Twelve
Lainie fed Glory a slice of apple and glanced at the
two empty stalls at the end of the stable. Coco and Misty Morning had moved
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