Texas Heat

“I can do that for the time being,” he said, abruptly removing his hat and grinning. “But we need a pretty gal like yourself for the booth. The kissing booth.”

6

BY THE TIME CLINT had made sure the stage was ready for the first band that was scheduled to begin playing at noon, the rides were running and the dunking booth operational, he was itching for another shower and a cold drink. Barring any unforeseen problems with the lighting for tonight or the half barrels they’d set up for the barbecue, his job was done and he could enjoy the festivities. He did have one thing left to do…find a replacement for Dory. He’d left her sitting under that umbrella longer than he’d intended, and felt badly about the inconvenience, but he planned to make it up to her.

He headed toward the house and the makeshift ticket booth set up close to the driveway. But as he got closer he saw a teenage girl with a mass of curly red hair now selling tickets. He was glad someone had relieved Dory, but where was she? He spun around, scanning the crowd, starting with the group of people gathered around the lemonade stand. There were still more kids than adults milling about. All that would change in the next hour, but for now she should have been easy to spot.

Several cowhands had lined up at one of the booths, but she wasn’t among them. When Clint shaded his eyes, he saw that she was behind the counter, collecting tickets. Who the hell put her there? Kate was gonna kick his ass if she thought he’d made her friend work the entire weekend. Sighing, he strode toward Dory. But stopped dead in his tracks when young Sam Taylor leaned over the counter and laid a big sloppy kiss on Dory that sent the whole line of men to hooting and hollering.

Dory threw her head back and laughed. “That counted as two, cowboy,” she said, holding out her palm. “Hand over four more tickets.”

Grinning, Sam dug into his pocket and slapped a handful of yellow tickets into her hand. “That’s enough for two more,” he said, nudging his hat back and leaning toward her.

“You had your turn, you ornery young buck, now git to the back of the line if you want seconds.” Curly’s protest was joined by several of the other men, apparently from neighboring ranches because Clint didn’t recognize them.

Of course he hadn’t paid much attention to the men. He was still too stunned over the fact that Dory was manning the kissing booth. He took off his hat, and used the back of his sleeve to wipe his eyes. Dory looked different. For one thing, she wasn’t wearing a T-shirt but a denim blouse with the top two buttons left undone, showing a little skin and hint of cleavage. Nothing too revealing, just enough to whet a man’s appetite. Her hair was down, too, a bit wild and wavy around her face, and he was pretty sure she was wearing makeup.