Carol Arens - Rebel Outlaw

With a sugar sweet kiss was the first thought to pop into his mind, but clearly, this was not the kind of woman that a man casually canoodled.

“I’ll have one of everything,” Grannie Rose declared. “Except for the hearts, I’ll have three of those...and so will my sister.”

“Make yourself sick then, but don’t think I’ll be up all night caring for you,” Aunt Tillie huffed.

The woman smiled at Grannie, then Aunt Tillie. Hell if she didn’t look as sweet as the pastries covering the counter.

“May I make a suggestion?” she asked.

“Anything that will keep my sister from the sin of gluttony.”

“I’ll take your suggestion, dearie,” Grannie said. “As long as it comes with four hearts of chocolate.”

“As a matter of fact, it comes with a plateful of them to share among you. I guarantee no one will become sick from it.”

Colt tried not to stare at her, but the woman was damned pretty. He’d seen a pink rose once that was a match to the blush in her cheeks.

“As long as it’s not the whole contents of the display case, we’ll take it,” Aunt Tillie said.

“Just have a seat at the table over there by the window. Won’t take but a minute to prepare.”

Fresh is what best described her...fresh and luminous. He’d never seen a luminous woman before, but just to prove his thought, when she walked through a beam of afternoon sunshine streaking through a window on her way to the back room, her blond hair turned gold, like the light was inside it.

He didn’t realize that he had been staring calf-eyed at the curtain until Aunt Tillie asked if he was ailing.

He shook his head. “Just a mite wearied from the trip.”

“She’s a very pretty young lady.” Grannie studied him with a look. She arched a fine gray brow. “In fact, Colt Wesson, I believe she is the one for you.”

Aunt Tillie rolled her eyes and shrugged.

“Grannie, she’s not my kind of woman at all. I’m partial to the earthy kind.”

Once again Aunt Tillie rolled her eyes. This time she sighed out loud.

That’s right, earthy with a whiff of sin about them.

Hell, he wasn’t her kind of man. She would require a gentleman.

It threw him off a bit when, a few moments later, the angel emerged from the back room and a surge of desire rocked him to his dusty boots.

She glided toward them with a tray balanced on her palm set with daintily painted teacups and a plate of chocolates. The scent of cinnamon, mint and cloves rose from the delicate china.

“There’s a dash of everything in the tea, and it won’t do a bit of harm to ladylike figures,” she said, placing the teacups on the lace tablecloth then setting the plate of chocolates in the middle.

Grannie Rose caught her hand before she walked away. “You are a lovely girl. Not married, I hope.”

“No, ma’am.” Colt didn’t miss the shadow that passed over her soft brown eyes.

Grannie winked at him.

He was in for it now. Once Grannie Rose had a notion about something it was difficult to dissuade her from it.

Next trip to The Sweet Treat, he’d wait outside. He’d take a peek or two through the window, but what man wouldn’t?

“There’s a pig nibbling on my boot toe,” Grannie Rose announced.

“Really, Rose,” Aunt Tillie whispered. “Don’t insult the proprietor by saying such a ridiculous thing.”

“But there is a pig, a small one, but a pig, nonetheless, and it’s nipping my footwear.”

Colt glanced at the lovely shop owner to see if the lady meant to kick them out over Grannie’s words. Her cheeks were flushed...turning redder by the second.

“Apologize, Rose!” Aunt Tillie had turned nearly as red as the angel, who swished her yellow skirt rounding the pastry counter.

“Look for yourself, then.” Grannie lifted the table lace.

“Lulu!” The angel dashed forward.

By damn, it was a pig! A pig with a pink ribbon tied through a slot in its ear. It was hard to know what surprised him more, the presence of the pig or that he had failed to notice it under the table. But Grannie was right. It was a very little pig.

The angel rushed for the pig; the pig dashed from under the table snagging the lace tablecloth around its foot.

Tea and chocolate went sailing, while fragile cups hit the floor and shattered. He caught a blue one and saved it.

He and the old ladies jumped up and backed away from the table a heartbeat before the pig ran into the leg and knocked it over with a smash and clatter.

Aunt Tillie laughed out loud. The animal squealed while the angel dashed here and there in pursuit of it.

The pig collided with Colt’s shin then skidded across the floor in a mess of hot tea and melting chocolate. He lunged for it with one hand because he gripped the surviving teacup in the other. The smooth round belly of the creature passed through his grip like it had been buttered. It spun in a circle on short legs then made a dash between Colt’s feet.

“Lulu!” the angel screeched.

She ran forward, stepped in a square of slick chocolate then slipped, sliding belly first...between his legs.

By now Aunt Tillie was laughing so hard that she began to wheeze.

By a bit of good luck, the pig tangled itself in Grannie’s skirt. Colt grabbed it by the scruff while the angel slowly rose to her feet.

She wouldn’t know it, glowering at the animal like she was, but her belly was streaked in chocolate. Even better, chocolate rings circled each of her breasts, revealing that they were plump...womanly.

“Here’s your bacon.” He stuffed the squealing, wriggling creature under her arm then handed her the blue teacup.

“Blast it, Lulu,” she muttered, then looked up with a furious blush staining her cheeks. “I beg your pardon, sir...ladies. Please do come another day for tea and chocolate...on the house naturally.”

She spun about then disappeared behind the curtain, the piglet’s tail twitching with the scolding it was getting.

“I do have to say, Colt,” Aunt Tillie managed to say while attempting to bring her laughter under control, “the girl is a bit earthy.”

“I knew she was the one for you the moment I saw her, Colty.”

“Hell,” he grumbled, and his aunt didn’t even bother to frown.

Chapter Two

“I should have let the butcher keep you,” Holly Jane grumbled at the pig, who grunted at a weed growing near the back door of The Sweet Treat. “You’d have made a fine sandwich.”

She locked the door then glanced about. So far, not a single suitor was visible on the path through the woods that led home.

That, at least, was a blessing. With the sun dipping behind the treetops, she didn’t need another delay. She would be late getting back to the ranch as it was.

What with broken china scattered about and chocolate-tea goop to be scrubbed from the floor, it was well past the time that she liked to be home.

“You, Miss Pigling, will help me feed the chickens since they’ll be cackling up a storm by time we get to the barn.”

Holly Jane walked the path toward home taking deep breaths of autumn-scented air. Late-afternoon sunshine shot through tree branches and cast long shadows behind her and Lulu. Leaves twisted in the breeze, looking like molten gold and then red sparks.

She loved her life here. When she had discovered, at the reading of his will, that Granddaddy had sold her inheritance, she had cried for a week. Between missing the man who had been everything to her and wondering how she would get by without the ranch she had planted her roots in, she thought she might never quit weeping.

Overhead, a crow cawed, flapping its wings toward the west and the coming sunset.

Given a choice, Holly Jane would be snuggled in a cozy chair beside the fireplace when darkness came. Since she didn’t have the choice, she would make another one. She would enjoy the beauty of the evening as it faded from light to dusk then full dark.