Closer To You (Tales of the Sweet Magnolia Book 1) (20 page)

“Looking for you, sweetheart.” His lips found hers at last, gentle, precious—Lil savored their reunion.

“But how?” she mumbled between kisses that ignited the passion she remembered between them. 

“Later, Lil,” he stated, pressing her to the bookcase. Heat built between them, a raging grass fire, reckless and wild. She pushed his jacket over his broad shoulders, and he stepped away only long enough to let it drop to the floor.

“I wanted you the first time I laid eyes on you.” His hands pushed beneath her skirt and Lil began to unfasten the buttons of her blouse.

“You don’t happen to be wearing that little number you had on that night?” he asked, trailing kisses down the curve of her throat. He brushed aside her cotton blouse and stopped, his face filled with the joy of a kid on Christmas morning. “Bless you, woman.” He unhooked the front clasp, freeing her breasts to his hands and his hungry mouth.

Her knees grew weak, the need rising fierce inside her. She should have cared about where they were, should have considered that someone could come around the corner and see them, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was Jake and that he was there with her. His calloused hands smoothed up her thigh, bunching her skirt around her hips. He moved his hand over her soft mound, caressing slow and easy, causing her to squirm.

“Oh, Jake.” Her voice shook with desire.

He teased unmercifully, pleasuring her with teeth and tongue as his hand performed magic between her legs. Lil turned her head and looked up at the beautiful Magnolia and vine-covered window. Helpless to the delirious splendor, a gasp tore from her throat and she surrendered to the exquisite joy that claimed her body and soul.

“That’s the look I’ve waited to see. You, coming undone for me.”

She swallowed, relishing the contentment of surrender. He pressed his lips to her shoulder. She laced her fingers through his dark waves of thick hair, holding him close. “Tell me, you really are Sheriff Jake Sloan, aren’t you?” she asked breathlessly.

He straightened to look at her, a cocky grin plastered on his face. “Give me a few minutes to jostle your memory.”

In a hurry to make up for lost time, they shed their remaining clothes, helping each other between soft kisses. The rays of the sun low in the western sky illuminated the brilliant stain of the window, bathing their naked flesh in its colors. Lil pulled him close, wrapping her arms around his neck, holding him tight. “I don’t ever want to be apart from you,” she whispered, breathing deep his familiar scent.

“Lil, honey, I’ve got to be inside you. Jesus it feels like forever.”

“I know.” She nodded. “I need to have you.”

He lifted her in his arms. “These are sturdy?” he asked, looking above their heads at the ancient wooden bookshelves.

Lil nodded. “They’ve withstood the test of time.” She smiled at Jake and knew he understood the double entendre.

“I’ve waited a hundred fifty years to do this again.”

He kissed her, at the same time pushing deep, their joining a miracle, unexplainable, perfect. Her breath caught at the rapturous sensation of his hard length, the glorious friction of each determined thrust. She clung to his muscled shoulders feeling them flex and bunch beneath her fingers. Night after night, in the seclusion of her dreams, she’d tortured herself with the memory of his lovemaking. It was nothing by comparison to his skills in reality. She pulled herself close, resting her cheek on his shoulder, delighting in every sense, in how he’d never given up looking for her.

“Aw Lil, God, you feel so good,” he murmured against her cheek. Books, one after another, fell around them, banging to the floor in periodic succession.

“You’re not going to scream, are you?” He turned his head to look at her, his dark eyes glittering with mischief.

“Hell of a time to ask about that now, cowboy.”

“About us, Lil….” He moved in tandem with her, the sensation undeniably magnificent.

“What is it, Jake? It’s been a very long time, I’d really like to....” He shifted his hold, changing the angle and creating all new miraculous sensations. Pleasure obliterated all thought. A moan of utter joy escaped her lips.

He paused, his chest heaving from exertion. There was a solemn look in his dark eyes. “I don’t ever want to lose you again, Lil.”

She tightened her arms around his neck and kissed him soundly. “I have no intention of letting you lose me.”

“Marry me.”

Fat tears welled in her eyes and she nodded.

“Tomorrow…high noon…the courthouse,” he said resuming with greater fervor his lovemaking. “No…more…waiting—” His hands grasped the soft flesh of her thighs. “What do you say, Lil?” He kissed her quick and pressing his forehead to her shoulder, quickened his thrusts.

Lil gasped and she opened her mouth in an unbridled scream of joy. “Yes,

Jake, oh God yes!”

“I love you, Lil, I always have,” Jake whispered, holding her tight, emptying himself body and soul, the past and present joining as one.

The clang of the old grandfather clock in the library’s main entrance resonated through the empty library, marking the end of another day. Lil held Jake close, realizing she’d found her cowboy at last. Her sister would be ecstatic.

***

Burt glanced up from his solitary cleaning and smiled at the sunset on the horizon. It looked like a giant red ball in the sky, blazing across time and space. “Now, there’s a lovely sunset, Lillian.” He turned the lock and flipped over the closed sign on the front door. “And here’s wishing you and your cowboy a lifetime of riding off into them.”

Dear Readers,

I hope you enjoyed the story of Jake and Miss Lillian. There are more Tales of the Sweet Magnolia to come, starting with Miss Angel’s story in Book II of this series. Will she find the elusive Billy, the man of her dreams whose lyrical way of speaking touches her very soul? Find out in CHRISTMAS ANGEL. Here is a sneak peek at the first chapter!

Happy reading & cowboy dreams!

Amanda

Christmas Angel

by

Amanda McIntyre

Chapter One

Present Day~

It was a hell of a way to spend a winter’s night. Shado tore open the instant heat packets, stuffing them inside the thick rag-wool gloves he wore. He’d cut out the fingertips to allow quick access to the gun he carried in the waistband of his jeans.

“How's it lookin' out there?” His partner in the operation sat huddled, warm and toasty in the van parked half way down the block—ready to roll at the given signal.

They at least had hot coffee.

He took a gulp of stale, cold coffee, grimacing as he tossed it in the rusty oil barrel nearby. For a fleeting moment, the thought of a nice can fire passed through his head—quickly dissipating as he glanced at the stacks of Christmas trees surrounding him.

“Was this your idea, Gleason?” he muttered into the microphone discreetly attached to the silver diamond stud he wore on his left earlobe. It wasn't his style—the earring—but Gleason thought it would add character to his cover.

“The Christmas tree lot? Hell, yeah that was my brilliant idea. Look, you've got a straight shot to the valet parking of that joint.”

Shado sneezed, wondering how long it would take his toes to thaw from the cold.

“What's the temp out here?” He smacked his hands together, grateful for the warmth provided by the packs as he reminded himself to bring some for his boots the next night.

“They said it’s going for record cold tonight, could beat the old record of twelve below zero.”

“Nice,” he responded with no enthusiasm. At least it wasn’t snowing.

“Yeah, it makes it a good night to snuggle up to with something warm, right?

That’s what we're counting on, anyway. Hoping our boy shows up and wants to visit one of his favorite ladies.”

He raised his arms over his head and stretched. “I'm going back in the shack for a few minutes and warm up. Let me know if you see anything.”

“Crack a window in there, space heaters can dangerous.”

“Yes, Mother,” Shado responded. He cast a tolerant gaze to the van as he tugged open the rickety wood door. Inside were a small kitchen stool, a red-hot space heater, and a crude wooden ledge with a metal money box. The department paid the owner of the facility to have access to the lot after hours in order to watch the comings and goings of the hotel that was known to run a prestigious gentleman's escort service.

While the service, too, was a concern, it was secondary to catching a man by the name of Espinoza, head of a prominent East side drug ring, and someone with whom Shado had an intimate score to settle.

“You guys hear about that Billy Joel musical that opened tonight?” One of the surveillance crew’s voices filtered through the mike.

Shado pulled off his gloves and tried to stuff the heat packs in the sides of his work boots. He ignored their chatter drifting from the musical, to what to get the kids for Christmas and who they were taking to the annual Policeman's Christmas Party. He didn’t care for Joel's music, he didn't have kids, nor had he attended the Christmas party in years—hell, he hadn’t even thought about Christmas in years. And dating? He’d discovered that most women didn’t want to share a life with an undercover cop always out at night and with no guarantees of coming home…alive. No, he’d given up dating quite a while back, immersing himself into his work.

“It's supposed to be pretty good. My wife has been at me to take her. Maybe that’s what I'll do for Christmas this year.” Gleason's voice sounded thrilled that he'd solved his own dilemma.

“How about you, Jackson? What are your plans for Christmas?” Gleason’s voice crackled through the transmitter.

Truth was the holiday was just another day. “Probably the same thing I’m doing tonight—sitting in this god-forsaken toothpick hut watching pimps pick up their products.”

“Damn Jackson, you make the Grinch sound like Mother Theresa,” his partner retorted.

Shado arched his brow. He was probably right. He wasn't exactly Mr. Holiday Cheer.

“Yeah, well, get off my ass. Just because you go around from Thanksgiving to December like some overgrown elf,” He responded as he rubbed the frost from the window so he could see the hotel.

“Ouch, man that was cold, Jackson.”

“More than you know, brother,” he muttered. “How much longer do we have?”

“Next shift, Rooney. He’s supposed to be here at midnight. You okay?”

“Yeah, listen, I'm going to step over here and relieve myself. Keep an eye on things.” He slipped on his gloves, awaiting confirmation.

His pulse quickened in the wake of unexpected silence. He'd anticipated one of Gleason's smartass comments. “Gleason, you copy?” He tapped his earring stud, his gaze squinting through the dark toward the van. A raucous laughter burst through the earpiece.

“What the hell—” Shado yanked at his ear.

“Sorry, bro, we were taking bets at how many trees Mr. Grinch was going to take a whiz on.”

“You're a sick, sorry bunch of bastards.” He flipped them the finger and turned on his heel toward the abandoned gas station’s bathroom. Rundown and ransacked years ago, the property now served locals as a place to peddle everything from velvet pictures of the Virgin Mary to shiny chrome hubcaps of questionable origin. A string of cars passed by.

“Must be the traffic from the musical. It would be letting out about now. Stay alert.” Gleason's voice came through the transmitter.

Shado sighed with relief as he zipped up his jeans. Three days more of this. He better see some action or he'd go nuts. He snaked back through the fragrant pine trees to his post, his memory touching lightly on the Christmas’s past and how much fun he and his brother used to have getting up before anyone else and sitting in the living room looking at the tree lights. It was a cheesy thought and he quickly shoved off the dull ache it produced inside of him. Determined to focus on the here and now, he glanced up at the eleven-story Imperial across the street.

A famous brothel or parlor house, depending on your view, and saloon called the Sweet Magnolia, in its day. Burned down once, it was re-built by a gambler who’d come through town on his way to Reno. After that ownership was taken over by many hands, all with their own renovations. It now featured large white marble columns and a grand circle drive where limos and vintage Cadillac's picked up Madam Lee’s “special girls.”

Located in the heart of downtown Reno, Madam Lee had reopened the Imperial, barely keeping her dealings under legal restrictions. But she’d readily cooperated with authorities in the sting operation due to the ruthless drug lord, Espinoza that had been using the Imperial to drop his deals. When some of her girls began to disappear with some of the new breed of unsavory clients brought in by Espinoza, Madam Lee was more than happy to cut a deal with police. In the last couple of weeks, she’d even sent the girls out with thermoses of coffee and homemade cookies.

“Keep sharp, Jackson. Captain says this guy does whatever he wants and doesn’t care how he does it.”

“You don't need to remind me, Jesse.”

“Oh hey, I’m sorry, man.” His tone was apologetic.

“Let it go,” Shado replied, shoving off the tragic events that left his brother dead in the line of duty. “What's the word on this guy lately?” He purposely changed the subject, knowing that if he dwelt on it, he would lose his focus. And he needed that completely if he wanted to take down the bastard that killed his brother.

“Captain says he's desperate—reportedly paid some of Madam Lee's girls to score new clients, offering them a kickback. Word is that he’s now outsourcing fresh faces from out of town to put down his scores. Problem is they seem to disappear right after the deal goes down.”

Shado's teeth ground in frustration. This guy, if he ever got hold of him, was fish food. How many others would die at his hand before he was brought down?

***

Sweet Magnolia 1881~

Angel didn’t care what the citizens of Deadwater thought about her or the other girls at the Sweet Magnolia. But lately, she’d become restless, wanting more, something more permanent in her life, someone else she could count on now and again.

“Here's another load, Angel.” Josie plopped another basket on the dry, broken ground. Not much grass grew around the stately clapboard farmhouse-turned bordello.

“Thanks, Josie. Is this the last of it?”

The young girl, at least two years younger than Angel nodded, offering a bright smile, its effect showing more innocence on her face than the years of her experience.

“That's it. I'll fix us something cold to drink.”

“Sounds good.” Angel looked up at the endless span of bright, blue autumn sky. She thought of the woman she’d come to know who had changed her perspective of life.

Miss Lillian.

Two years had passed since her disappearance, and shortly thereafter Sheriff Sloan also disappeared. He’d been searching for his Lil and everyone assumed that he’d been ransacked by renegade bandits or killed by the warrior Indians that roamed the hills. He’d not been the same since she disappeared without a trace and townsfolk generally knew it best to stay clear of him. Angel spoke to him once when she saw him seated in a chair leaned against the front of the jailhouse. In his hand he’d studied a woman’s necklace.

***

“You think she's out there somewhere, Sheriff?” Angel was cautious not to get too close. People said he'd sit for hours dangling Lillian's necklace, staring at the sparkling ruby on the end.

“If she were dead, I'd know it.” His gaze never wavered.

Prompted by a morbid curiosity to understand the mechanics of such a relationship between a man and a woman Angel pressed on. “How would you know, Sheriff? How could you possibly know what fate had in store for Miss Lilly?”

His gaze narrowed as though harnessing some sort of mystical strength. It was a moment before he turned his gaze to hers. The intensity of it caused Angel to take a step back.

“I'm going to find her. No matter how long it takes, or how far I have to go. I’ll find her. It's like a piece of me is missing. I've got to find her.” He blinked. “Does that make a lick of sense?”

Angel had nodded just to make him feel better, but the truth was, she had no idea of his devotion. Her only experience with men had been shallow at best. Two weeks later, she heard from Paddy that the sheriff had gone to Virginia City reportedly on business, but Paddy figured it had something to do with Lil. He never returned to Deadwater and that made Nate sheriff of the town.

There was a lot of speculation as to what happened, of course, gossip being common in Deadwater, but Angel preferred to believe that somehow, somewhere, they’d finally found each other. It was Nate though that tried to gain Angel’s attention and while he was a nice man, a good man, she wanted a man that felt about her, like Sheriff Jake felt about Lil.

***

“Don’t go changing…” Angel sang quietly as she snapped the wrinkles out of the wet sheets before hanging them on the line. Miss Lillian believed everybody was entitled to a little happiness. Before then, Angel had never associated happiness with relation to what she wanted. 

Her wispy blonde hair blew freely around her face, and she turned her face to the sky as a warm gust of autumn wind brushed back the strands for her. She didn't know much about Miss Lillian's background, but when she played piano and sang her strange songs, it caused Angel’s heart to take wing and dream.

What kind of man could write such lyrics about a woman? Certainly no man she'd ever met, with exception to Sheriff Jake. The words made her heart race, sent gooseflesh up her arms. She remembered the night she asked Miss Lillian about her music.

“Did you make up these words, Lil?” Angel asked dreamily as she rested her arms atop the piano.

Miss Lillian chuckled as she took a sip of a Kentucky Bourbon—the best Paddy, the barkeep, carried behind the bar.

Her shoulders shivered and she grimaced as the effect hit her system. “No, the man who wrote it is named Billy—Billy Joel.” She ran her fingers lightly over the keyboard, randomly playing short tunes.

“Billy,” the name slipped off Angel’s tongue.

She gave her a smile as she touched Angel's cheek. “Don't be up too late, busy day tomorrow.”

Lil had a kindness about her that endeared her to the residents of the Magnolia. It was but a few weeks later that she disappeared and left Deadwater without a trace. They were heartbroken; the lot of them and Paddy had been running the place with Nellie’s help, ever since. Nevertheless, Lil had instilled more than friendship in Angel. She’d given her dreams permission to fly. But she knew the road to reaching them would not be an easy one. So, she appeased herself by playing the songs, over and over, creating her fantasy of finding her own “Billy” to make her happy.

***

Angel was on the front porch shelling peas later that afternoon when Josie nearly flew up the road in the horse and buggy. Dust from the wheels swirled in giant hazy, brownish-red clouds as the horse raced up to the bordello. She pushed up from the rocker, forgetting the bowl in her lap in haste as she shaded her eyes to see the girl. Josie screamed her name as she yanked on the reins and Angel considered whether to get Paddy’s rifle he kept behind the bar.

Josie’s face was alive with enthusiasm as Angel ran down the steps to meet her. “You won't believe what's—” Josie yanked on the reins, causing the buggy to swerve precariously. Angel jumped aside, waiting for the girl to explain all the commotion. Josie slapped her hand against her chest, licking her dry lips, chaffed by the desert wind. “In town…there's a new teacher, a music teacher.” Josie took a deep breath and gave Angel a wide smile. “He wants to give folks piano lessons.”

Angel's heart soared, and as quickly, plummeted into the dry, cracked ground.

“Josie, you know how the townsfolk feel about us.”

“He could come to the Sweet Magnolia,” she responded quickly. “I bet he’d come.”

The idea, though tempting, flitted briefly though in Angel's head. “That would definitely cause problems for his business.” She glanced at the peas scattered across the wood floor and bent down to clean up the mess.

“But would it hurt to ask? Maybe you could arrange something with our new sheriff?”

Angel glanced up, the corner of her mouth lifting in a wry smile.

Josie grinned in return. “It's no secret that Sheriff Nate has had his eye on you for quite a spell. He might be willing to work out something.”

It was a dream to be sure and Lil had told her once that everyone needed to follow their dream. She continued to gather the peas in the apron and dumped them into the crockery bowl. Thoughts of her fingers skipping across the beautiful ivory and black keyboard danced merrily in her head. 

A small one-horse buggy pulled up in front of the Magnolia and a stylishly dressed gentleman with a brown bowler hopped down. He patted the horse’s neck, dipping around the steed as he flashed a bright smile to Josie and Angel. Though new in town, he was already well-known as a respected and wealthy businessman. “Afternoon, ladies.” The man tipped his hat and scanned the desert horizon. “It's a beautiful autumn evening.” Josie glanced at Angel and hid a smile.