Wild West Hauntings, page 8
His desire made her feel all bubbly inside. Well, it was that or the baby was protesting all the food she’d just consumed. “Is sex all you think about, Mr. Dougan?” she laid her head back against his shoulder and whispered against his cheek.
“Well, sure. Especially when I’m not getting any.”
The pointed look she swung at him locked him in place. “It’s temporary.”
He gave her a stare to match the one she’d just laid on him—tit for tat. “I know darlin’. You best believe you’re going to have some catching up to do in that department. Our honeymoon is going to be one big sex fest with all those toys.”
“Oh you just wait, Mr. Sexpot.”
Damon tapped the watch on his right wrist pretending to study the piece. “I’ve been waiting for let’s see.” He glanced at it a few more times, and she knew it was for her benefit. Talk about her acting skills, he wasn’t far behind with his Tony award-winning performance. “Three months, seven days, sixteen hours and five minutes.”
Gold statue coming.
Now it was her turn for some award-winning acting. She rolled her eyes and tisked a few times and then added in the best slow seductive voice she could muster in broad daylight, and in the middle of a family restaurant, “It hasn’t been that long, and keep this up lover boy, and you’ll be waiting until hell freezes over.”
“Really?” Her man smiled a sly totally wicked one. “Oh baby, you can bet your sweet ass—and let me remind you it is all kinds of sweet—that as soon as our son makes his arrival, it won’t be long before his daddy claims his rightful place between your beautiful thighs.”
Okay he was definitely winning that Tony.
A warm flush pushed into her cheeks and moved with accelerated speed through her face. God, was her man sexy. And boy, she wanted him badly. The function of simple language left her when Damon reached for her hand, brought it to his lips, licked it and then gave it a long, lingering kiss. When he ran his tongue over the sensitized skin, everything south of her naval contracted with urgent need.
And he wasn’t done yet.
She shifted her body to relieve some of the pressure below.
He gave her a Damon Dougan owned smile—the one that she’d seen so many times since they’d met—before he helped her out of her chair and escorted her to the area of the bar their friends and family occupied.
“Dang, you two need to get a room,” Marianne commented as soon as they sat down.
Damon glanced at Marianne rather nonchalantly. “We have a room.”
Blondie should have stopped while she was ahead, but she didn’t and instead added, “Obviously, you’re not using it.”
Cassie who’d been in heavy conversation with Rachel threw Marianne a scathing look. “Shut up.”
And Marianne, who didn’t ever do what she was told, not when she felt her words were important, spat back, “I’m just saying.” Marianne held up her finger—a sign to the bartender to deliver another shot of whatever she’d been slamming.
Cassie turned her complete attention to Marianne. “And I’m just warning. Don’t give your input where it isn’t needed.”
Appearing perturbed at Cassie’s statement, Marianne slammed the shot of amber liquid. She looked like a hot mess—hair mussed up, makeup smearing—as if she’d been drinking for hours and not just the short time they’d been at lunch.
And all would have been fine had Marianne not opened her mouth yet again. “Cassie, why don’t you mind your own business? As I recall, you haven’t had intimate relations with this brother.” She pointed a long red finger nail at Damon, and then the alcohol apparently started talking, “I have. Sex is something he needs. It’s part of who he is. Something he and I have in common.”
It took less than a minute for Cassie to come off the barstool. Rachel caught her before Cassie’s hand could tighten around Marianne’s upper arm.
Visibly shaking, Cassie glanced at Dakota. He gave her a long ‘calm down’ look, but she ignored him. “You need to control that mouth of yours before I do.” Cassie addressed Marianne calmly yet forcefully. Never once did she break a sweat nor did her tone waver.
My hero. Bristol was still trying to swallow Marianne’s announcement to the entire wedding party about Damon’s sexual needs, so when Cassie gave Marianne the ultimatum, she wanted to jump and cheer. Cassie would always be her heroine.
Rachel, who’d been watching with tight-lipped concern, gave Bristol an uneasy smile. Of course she was aware of the Dougan men and their history with Marianne. Being sisters, they probably shared everything. Blondie had always wanted one of the brothers and gave into pleasing them in any and every way possible. And yes, she’d slept with Damon. The thought still jabbed Bristol’s gut, but it’d happened. Damon had assured her it’d been sex and nothing more.
Yet, through all the secrets revealed and hearts broken, Marianne still loved to make jabs now and then about her intimate relations with the brothers.
Someone cleared their throat, causing the group to look that way.
“Are we finished with the walk down memory lane?” Dakota held up a beer. “Cheers to the soon to be married couple.”
“Hear, hear,” Rachel added.
The others followed suit with the toast, and all previous talk was forgotten.
****
Though Cassie was keeping her company, Rachel was glad when the conversation around them turned to less hostile topics. Then again, with Cassie subjecting her to an intense interrogation, maybe hostile discussions would be better.
The woman wouldn’t relent with all the questions about her paranormal experiences and dreams. Cassie wanted to know if she’d felt or seen anything after the orb and piano incident.
Snippets of the gothic-like dream flitted through her mind. The dark images sent a repeat of the panic and fear she’d felt careening through her body again. The strawberry milkshake she’d drunk with her meal soured in her stomach.
You don’t know what you’ve done.
The words kept skipping round in her head. What the hell had Dalton meant? The lack of explanation and figuring out one herself drove her bonkers. She was a smart lady. Why isn’t the answer coming to me?
Could she tell a total stranger everything that’d been happening? The dreams she’d been having? No. Sharing information like that would take her too far out of her comfort zone. She hadn’t even told her close friend back in New York what she’d been dreaming. The only one who knew most of the story was her sister, and Marianne had yet to be appraised of her latest trip into weird land.
Tell her a partial truth then? The idea struck her as feasible. Give Cassie something truthful to appease her curiosity but don’t divulge anything that would cause issue. After the woman was done with the verbal altercation with Marianne, she turned back to her.
Rachel held up a hand to stop Cassie from asking another question. “I really appreciate your inquisitiveness. Most times I’d be all in favor of discussing the paranormal and my part in it, but I’m still pretty freaked out about the whole thing.” Freaked out? That’s putting it mildly. “Maybe after the wedding we could revisit this?”
Cassie seemed crestfallen, but she nodded. “Sure. When you’re ready.”
“Thanks, I—”
Another small disturbance nearby cut her short and drew both their attentions again.
Marianne, heated over something new, stood near her stool, facing Bristol and Damon and pointing her finger. She shot the pregnant woman a couple more barbs.
“Marianne,” Rachel barked.
Her sister spun in her direction. “What?”
“Outside. Now.” Rachel moved toward the doors of the restaurant, checking back to make sure Marianne followed.
Once they were both on the sidewalk away from any chance of people eavesdropping, Rachel stopped and studied her sister. Marianne’s color was pale, her breathing shallow. She was sure that if she took her pulse it’d be fast and thready. There was more happening than just a simple disagreement, or whatever it was going on, between her and Bristol. As much as she wanted to lay into Marianne for her attitude, she realized it wasn’t what her sister needed. She pulled Marianne into a hug, released her and held her arms. “What’s up, sis? You seem a bit prickly today.” When tears welled in her sister’s eyes, she was glad she chose not to fuss at her.
“I have been a bitch, haven’t I?” she questioned with a hitch in her voice. “Normally, I can deal with Bristol and her haughty ways and how she seems to think she’s the only one who should be paid attention to even under normal circumstances, but—” She sucked in a short, quick breath.
“Breathe deep. Take your time. You know I’m here for you.”
Marianne nodded, did as she was told. “But then there they are, her and Damon, getting married, doing the whole PDA thing, and it just started irritating the hell out of me.”
Rachel tilted her head. Her internal therapist’s voice told her to dig deeper, “Why?”
“Why? Cause it’s bothersome seeing them smooch and touch and all that talk. What?”
She tisked. “They love each other. It’s a happy time in their lives. It’s not as if you and Miguel haven’t done the same a time or two. Plus, Bristol and Damon are getting married.” Marianne’s sudden crying alarmed her. “Honey, what’s wrong?”
“Miguel and I had a fight this morning. A bad one. I’m not even sure what we were fighting about.” She swiped the wet from her face. “I don’t know if he and I will ever take the next step. I thought he loved me and wanted to be with me and now…”
“You two didn’t break up, did you?”
“No.” Marianne sniffled. “Not that I’m aware.”
“And you don’t know what you were fighting about?”
She sucked in air again with a shrug. “I don’t know. We were talking about taking a trip together, then about where we’d go and how we’d both work on getting the same days off considering we work at the same place. Then he made an off hand comment about how it’s too bad we weren’t the ones getting married cause then we wouldn’t have this problem. I asked why. He said no wife of his is going to work. Then I questioned if he’s expecting to have a wife who’s barefoot, pregnant and in the kitchen and getting an allowance out of a joint account. He said yes. I told him that I wouldn’t be tied down that way and stripped of my choices and independence. Then I told him to go to hell and left.”
Marianne’s story confused her. Miguel was such a good natured, laid back man. Traditional and old fashioned were words she’d never have associated with him. Dakota, yes, if the bickering she’d been noticing between him and Cassie was any indication. But not Miguel. “Could he have been teasing? He does seem to enjoy riling you up.”
“Hadn’t thought of that. I just figured since he wasn’t with the men that he was truly miffed. He could have been messing with me. I’ll talk to him when we get back, and I’ll apologize to Bristol.” She appeared to force a smile to her face. “Speaking of being toyed with. Are you all right? You’ve seemed off all day, too. Did you have another dream or something?”
She fought the urge to turn and run, find a hotel room to finish out the length of her stay so she wouldn’t have to be on the ranch anymore, but she had to face the situation head on and talk out her problems with someone. “Yeah, you could say that.” Rachel lowered her head and in a hushed tone said, “I walked in my sleep last night.”
“Really?”
Rachel bobbed her head several times, fighting the dread from creeping up and assaulting her again. “It was so weird. One moment I’m with Dalton on a picnic and swimming in the pond with him. The next, it’s dark out, and I’m alone outside.”
Marianne seemed confused.
“The first part I’m pretty sure was a dream, but the second… I know I had a strange draw to the cemetery but to make my way down there without knowing? I’m afraid the dreams are becoming a skewed reality. In my second dream, I strolled down there in my bare feet, wandered in and tried to find out the information on the stones. I attempted to clear away the debris without any luck. Then Dalton came. He got me to snap out of the state I was in, but before he did, he—”
Familiar laughter nearby stopped Rachel from revealing more of the incident. It was bad enough she was going through it all and sharing it with her sister. She didn’t need others in on it as well. They’d think her nuts.
Marianne leaned toward her as their group drew closer and Kent pulled the truck around. “We’ll talk more about this later. Okay?”
Rachel swallowed hard, finding her mouth and throat had gone dry. From the desert air or from her nerves or both, it didn’t matter. She felt cornered.
Who am I kidding? I have lost my marbles.
She realized she needed to find a way out of the bizarreness she was in and fast.
Chapter Nine
Miguel and Pedro bustled around the recreation room, placing platters of food on the tables. Cassie, Marianne and Bristol opened plastic storage containers near the tree. Rachel curled up in one of the oversized chairs to watch the ladies sort through the decorations and decide what would be appropriate for the wedding. Plus, she wanted to be off her feet for a bit, rest up before the evening’s dinner and board games started.
She had no idea where they all drummed up the energy to keep going at the fast pace they had set earlier in the day. But, there they were, hustling around, laughing and having a great time, acting as if they hadn’t been awake since the sun peeked over the eastern horizon.
After they arrived home at the ranch, Marianne and her went right back out, driving to the outlet mall near downtown. Shopping with her sister was always an adventure. It’d felt like Marianne had dragged her into every store imaginable. Then they’d gone to the casino area, stopped at an ice cream shop and sat outside under the LED module filled awning. She’d reveled in the few motionless moments to marvel over the sights. The area had been decorated for the season. Garlands hung over the pedestrian walkway, anchored to poles by alternating candy canes and shiny silver bells. Holiday tunes had blared from hidden speakers. Though it’d been nice spending a few hours alone with Marianne, she was glad to be off her feet, no longer navigating her rental car through the unfamiliar streets, but sitting on a couch in front of a roaring fire.
She gazed at the tree, picturing how it would look once all the decorations were on it and noticing it was missing its topper.
That’s because we still have to put it up there.
Focusing in on Dalton’s voice, she blinked. In that brief instance, the scenery changed. Gone were the twinkling lights on the tree, the background chatter and music. In the corner stood a short tree with small wood carvings dangling from its branches. Tree needles littered the floor around the trunk. On top was a big silver star, reflecting shades of gold from the firelight.
She rose and strolled over. The gifts. They’re gone, she thought. Only a couple cloth covered ones remained.
Dalton pressed against her back, slid his arms around her, rubbing his cheek along the side of her head. “Do you like the star I crafted, my darling Rae?”
“It’s lovely.” From her vantage point, she thought it to be about a foot long from the tip of the upper star ray down to the bottom of the connector holding it to the tree. There was depth and thickness to the eight pointed star. Dalton had taken his time to carve in lines of detail and make small openings in its center so light could stream through. There was beauty in its simplicity.
“I traded some work for it. The Wilsons down the way wanted a star for their tree, so I made them one in exchange for metal for ours.” He nuzzled his nose into her hair. “Just in case you were worrying your pretty little head about the cost.”
“That was nice of you.” She bent back and pecked him on the lips.
He squeezed her then released her. From beneath the tree, he retrieved one of the packages. “I wanted to give my lovely wife, the star of my life, a perfect Christmas. Here.”
“And you’re doing a wonderful job so far.” Rachel smiled, realizing that regardless if it were all a dream or time travel or imagination, her feelings for Dalton were real, and she was having an amazing time with him. She accepted the gift and unwrapped it from the coarse material. A beautiful wood box with shiny brass hinges and elaborate star burst carvings sat in her hands. “Dalton, it’s lovely.”
“Open it.”
Slow and easy, she moved the question mark shaped clasp and lifted the lid. Inside were a gold and porcelain brush and mirror. She fingered the items, then removed the hand mirror and gazed at her—Rae’s—reflection.
“I wanted you to have something as pretty as you are to take care of your glorious hair.”
Placing the mirror back and closing the lid, she sighed over his thoughtfulness. “Thank you, Dalton. It’s quite a wonderful present.”
She put the box beside her, rose and embraced him tightly, musing about how nice they fit together. As if I was made for him. Slow and steady, she smoothed a hand up his torso, unfastened his shirt buttons. Might as well make use of the time I have here with him. “Where’s the rest of the family?” she asked, trailing the tips of her fingers up and down the mid-line of his torso, gazing at him with a sultry smile.
He tipped his head toward her. His longer locks curled and fell over his forehead. “The girls are back east as you know. Ma and Pa are visiting with Miz Banks in town. Douglas is courting his gal and joining her family for supper.”
“So what you’re telling me is we’re alone.”
Laugh lines creased around his eyes. “Yes. Very alone.”
“Good.” Rachel kissed her way down his chest to the top of his denim trousers, cupped the bulge she found. Kneeling, she unfastened the button fly.
“Rae, darlin’? What are you doing?”
“Shh, just enjoy.” Spreading her palm against his navel and splaying her fingers upon his smooth skin, she smiled up at him, followed the soft trail of hair into his trousers and freed his cock. With her gaze still connected to his, she gave the mushroom head a quick flick of her tongue. She grasped and stroked his length.
