Chapter Thirteen
Her heart beat double time. The look in his eyes, on his face, made every nerve in her body tingle. Every one that wasn’t already tingling. She started to unzip a boot but Harlan stopped her.
“Let me.” He unzipped it very slowly, kissing every inch of her skin as he exposed it. Finally, he reached the end, drew off the boot and tossed it beside the bed. He started in on the other one, murmuring as he kissed her leg, “You realize these boots are sexy enough to kill a man, right?”
Her laugh turned to a moan. With one hand he continued to unzip her boot but the other teased her at the top of her thighs, sliding his fingers beneath her panties. His fingers slicked over her, then pressed deep inside. Her muscles clenched as his fingers thrust inside her, his thumb played over her. She nearly exploded right then and there.
He moved up beside her and kissed her mouth. She felt him hot and hard against her leg, slipped her hand down to stroke him, to wrap her fingers around him, slide all the way up and all the way back down.
“God, Savannah,” he groaned.
“Do you want me to stop?”
“No.”
She stroked her hand up and down again.
“That feels so…good.” He put his hand over hers to still it. “Too good. It will all be over if you don’t stop.”
Savannah grabbed the condom from the bedside tabletop, tore it open and rolled it down over his cock. Harlan pushed her onto her back and kissed his way down her neck to her chest, to suck her nipples until she bucked beneath him. Opening her legs, she welcomed him, gasping with shock followed quickly by pleasure when he entered her. He stroked in and out of her, slowly, building her climax with each thrust. Opening her eyes, she locked gazes with him, indulged in a deep, carnal kiss as she came in a starburst of pleasure. He drove into her deep and strong, once, twice, and he groaned with a shuddering climax.
He kissed her, very sweetly, then rolled off her and pulled her close. After a moment, he went into the bathroom and came back a few moments later to slide back into bed with her.
They were both quiet. Savannah felt a deep contentment, something she’d never felt so strongly. She lay in the circle of Harlan’s left arm, his right rubbing lightly up and down her own arm. Earlier she’d seen he had a tattoo on his arm, an armband of letters, but she’d been too occupied with the rest of him to notice what it said. She noticed it now.
Savannah. He had her name tattooed on his arm.
“Harlan?”
“Hmmm.”
She traced a finger over the letters of the tattoo. “When did you get this? It doesn’t look new.”
“Because it’s not. I got it about eight months after we both left Whiskey River.”
Eight months? That he’d gotten a tattoo at all surprised her because ink had never been his thing. But a tattoo of her name that long after they broke up? “Why?”
He rolled onto his side to look at her. “Why did I get it or why did I wait until months after we broke up?”
“Both.”
“I was working on a construction crew in El Paso. When we finished one night, we all went out to a bar that wasn’t too picky about IDs and got drunk. I remember going to a tattoo parlor because one of the guys wanted to get one. I decided I needed one too. That’s all I remember. I woke up the next day with your name tattooed on my arm. It took me a long time to get over you. Obviously.”
“But you got married. Didn’t she object? I’d have thought you’d have it removed, especially when you married another woman.”
He laughed. “Hell yes, she objected. But I told her what I told every woman who asked me. I said it was a reminder that things don’t always turn out like you expect.”
“That sounds like a crappy excuse to me. I wouldn’t have bought that. Did your ex?”
“Not really. But once she figured out it was non-negotiable, she decided it wasn’t worth fighting about.”
“Was that the real reason you didn’t have it removed?”
“No. I didn’t want to remove it. It reminded me of you. The first girl I ever loved.”
“Did she know that?”
“I doubt it. I sure as hell never told her.”
“Still, if I’d been your wife I’d have pitched a fit.”
“Believe me, she did. Like I said, though, she finally figured out haranguing me about it wouldn’t work. But it was one of those things she flung at me when we broke up.”
She touched his cheek, gazed into his eyes. “Is it terrible of me that I find that incredibly romantic?”
He smiled, took her hand and kissed her palm. “Not to me.”
*
The next morning Harlan went to Riva’s to get coffee and muffins. Savannah was moving slowly since neither of them had much sleep the night before. They’d been too busy getting reacquainted with each other by making love during the night. When he returned she was up and wearing one of his button-down shirts. His gaze took in her long, bare legs, to the swells of her breasts peeking out from the partially unbuttoned shirt, to her hair, looking like she’d just tumbled out of bed.
“No,” she said. “I want coffee.”
He grinned and set down the cardboard carrier. “I didn’t say anything.”
“You thought it.” She picked up a cup and took a sip. Sighed happily. “Nothing beats that first cup of coffee in the morning.”
“Almost nothing.” Harlan picked up his cup and took it to the couch with him. “Was there anything special you wanted to do today?”
“Yes.” She sat beside him. “You don’t have a Christmas tree.”
“It seemed kind of pointless when it’s just me who’d see it.”
“I have one.”
“Ah, you’re one of those.”
“One of those?”
He nodded. “A tree nut. You’re not happy unless every place you go has a Christmas tree.”
“And your point would be?”
Harlan laughed. “Never mind. Where do we get a tree?”
She took him to a Christmas tree farm not far from Whiskey River. Savannah suggested taking his car—his Ferrari—to the farm, an idea he immediately vetoed.
“You want to put a Christmas tree on top of my Ferrari? Are you crazy?” His car was in pristine condition and he intended to keep it that way. Besides, a tree? God, the paint job would be destroyed in minutes.
Savannah went into peals of laughter. “You should have seen your face. We’ll take my SUV, don’t worry.”
Not content to just pick out a tree and cut it down, Savannah must have dragged them through every inch of the farm. Hours later, she finally settled on a six-foot Douglas fir, since he’d rejected anything larger.
“I still think your apartment is plenty big enough for an eight-foot tree,” Savannah complained as they lashed the tree to the top of her small SUV.
“I like this one.” He’d been so happy when she’d finally chosen one that he wasn’t about to let her change her mind.
Somehow they managed to wrestle it into the elevator—another reason he hadn’t wanted a bigger one. Savannah had decided ideas about where to place the tree. Every time he put it one place, she changed her mind and “decided” to see what it looked like in another place. Then she finally “decided” to put it back to the spot she’d chosen in the first place.
“Perfect,” she announced.
He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. “Yes. Perfect,” he said, cupping her cheek and smiling at her.
“I meant the tree.”
“I didn’t.”
She laughed, looking pleased. “I thought we could get the lights and a few ornaments and then we can pick up some dinner and a bottle of wine and have a nice, romantic evening?” She kissed him, laying one on him that hinted at much more to come. “How does that sound?”
“Now you’re talking,” he said.
*
Savannah had always loved Christmas on the Square. It was a Whiskey River tradition and the true start to the retail Christmas season in town. All of the stores remained open until ten, with the restaurants staying open until eleven during the week as well as the coming weekend. The bars stayed open until midnight and two AM, respectively.
Savannah and Harlan arrived at the park around five-thirty and walked down to the riverbank. The Floats, Boats, and Whiskey Barrels Festival kicked off the nighttime events on the first evening of Christmas on the Square. Along with most of the town, Harlan and Savannah stood beside the riverbank and watched the procession down the river. “Oh, look, Harlan.” She squeezed his arm through his leather bomber-style jacket. She loved that jacket. He looked like one of “the bad boys from the Barrels.” Only older, of course. “There’s a float with elves and Christmas trees.”
“Where’s Santa?” Harlan asked. “I see boats and floats made to look like gingerbread houses and trains, Christmas trees and toys, but no Santa so far.”
“He’s always last. Santa and his reindeer and sled come last and then Santa goes to the gazebo in the park for pictures with the kids. Don’t worry, you can’t miss it.”
“Those are my favorite,” Savannah said, pointing to the “candy boat” and “present boat.” One had sacks of Christmas candy, another, gaily wrapped packages piled high, all of which they tossed to the kids waiting on the banks. “See all the kids scrambling? Last year one fell into the river and five people jumped in to get him.”
“I’m surprised they still let them do it.”
“They tried to stop it but everyone in town put up such a stink they didn’t. But now all the parents are warned not to let the kids get too close to the river. Supposedly, one more time and they outlaw the candy and presents boats.”
“Can’t have that.”
There were boats decorated like Christmas trees, floats made in the shape of cookies, boats and floats and whiskey barrels festooned with twinkling lights, steady colored lights, tiny colored twinkling lights, and lights made to look like candles.
“The festival on the river is magical,” Savannah said. “I love this Christmas tradition.”
“I can see that,” Harlan said, and bent his head down to kiss her. “You’re lit up like one of those floats.”
Harlan put his arm around her and she snuggled against him, happy to be with him. “Look at that float, Harlan. It’s going wonky. What do you suppose is wrong with it?”
“I don’t know. It looks like it’s starting to sink.” A murmur from the crowd went up, swelling in volume as they realized what was happening. Harlan let go of her and started to go down the bank to the river, but Savannah held him back.
“Harlan, wait. There’s a boat closing in on it.”
They watched as the rescue boat pulled alongside the float and the two people on the float scrambled to get into the boat. Another boat pulled up and towed the float to the riverbank.
“What were you doing?” Savannah asked him. “Were you going to jump in and rescue them?”
Harlan laughed. “I don’t know. Instinct, I guess.”
She loved that his first instinct had been to help.
“This is a lot more involved than I remember from when I was younger,” Harlan said. “Back then there were only three or four boats and a whiskey barrel or two.”
Savannah laughed. “Whiskey River has definitely grown since we were kids. Which you should be glad of, since it means there will be more new construction.”
“You have a point.”
The Floats, Boats, and Whiskey Barrels parade had started at the new bridge over Whiskey River, north of the park, continued on through the park and ended at the original bridge, the famous one the town took its name from. The whiskey barrels were art forms in themselves: painted, decorated and lighted.
True Mahan, who owned Mahan Services, had engineered the barrels, making sure the lights were secure and the barrels wouldn’t roll. The barrels added an even more whimsical touch to the holiday scene on the river.
Declan Bolt, the famous children’s author who lived in Whiskey River, had agreed to do a reading from one of his books one night at Whiskey River bookstore. The bookstore also hosted a special story hour each night at seven and adults took turns reading The Polar Express to the kids.
After the river parade finished up, Savannah and Harlan went into the park to see what festivities were planned. Besides the festival on the river, there was a mini-festival of boats and floats in the water at the base of Booze’s statue. The kids, grades six and under, made and decorated tiny floats and boats, just like their larger counterparts on the river.
“Did you—” Savannah started to say but cut herself off abruptly. Maybe she shouldn’t go down that road. Yet, anyway.
“Did I ever think about having kids?” Harlan asked, reading her mind. “Sure. But never enough to actively try for one. What about you?”
“Only in the abstract. My ex-husband didn’t want any, at least while we were together. And I couldn’t manage to set a firm date for the wedding to my ex-fiancé, much less think about kids.”
After checking out the park, Savannah and Harlan walked up to the square. The businesses served food and drinks of all sorts. Lights were strung along the rooftops. Kelly Boots sponsored the lighted boot motifs hanging from each lamppost. Every business boasted decorations, some more than others. This year’s theme was cowboy boots. Along with the lampposts, all the shops and businesses on the square displayed a pair of Christmas cowboy boots, either in a window, inside, or even made up as a wreath hanging on the door. Every conceivable material was used, from papier-mâché, to wood to copper. Along with sculpture, every art medium was employed. There were oil paintings, watercolors, pencil drawings and acrylics as well as some mediums Savannah couldn’t even name.
There was food from hamburgers, hot dogs and corny dogs, to special hors d’oeuvres from Baron’s Steakhouse, to cotton candy and that Texas State Fair favorite, funnel cake.
Not to be outdone, Cookies and S’More(s), Rachel’s specialty bakery, offered free hot chocolate. Rachel had made a gingerbread house for each day of Christmas on the Square. Each day’s house resided on a table in the shop and all who wanted were invited to decorate it. Every night when she closed, Rachel moved the decorated house to the plate glass window of the storefront and brought out a new one to be decorated the following day.
Besides the fact that Rachel was her good friend, Savannah had a sweet tooth, so of course, she stopped by the shop. Katie, Rachel’s three-year-old daughter, was having the time of her life, with icing and sprinkles and whatnot smeared all over her face and clothes. Rachel’s landlady, Betty Claus, who kept Katie at times, was keeping an eye on the gingerbread house decorating. As the day and evening wore on, the kids grew rowdier and Rachel thought it a good idea to have supervision for the decorating.
Savannah stopped to speak to her. “Betty, you look like you have your hands full.”
The older lady laughed. “I’ve had to break up a few icing fights but so far the kids are being pretty good. And the adults have been too,” she added with a twinkle.
“My niece and nephew have been talking about Christmas on the Square for weeks, Laurel tells me,” Harlan said. “I can imagine how revved up they’ll be after decorating the gingerbread house. Something tells me not all of the decorations will go on the house.”
“All you have to do is look at Katie,” Mrs. Claus said, nodding her head. “Rachel has a real genius for finding fun things for people to do.”
All the stores offered some variety of cookies, candy, and other snacks. There was hot chocolate and soft drinks and the bars served a special Christmas hot toddy.
Fallen Angels Lingerie had a wreath on the door, fashioned out of pinecones, and sporting an angel in a cowboy hat and boots. Savannah made Harlan go in with her, laughing at seeing him amongst a plethora of lingerie.
Wild Horses art gallery showcased one of Gabe Walker’s creations in their window. Gabe was a local artist who was a metal sculptor. Gabe had made a Christmas scene. A bronze Christmas tree was the center of the scene, a tiny pair of cowboy boots, also made of bronze, beneath it. The tree was decorated with tiny ornaments made out of another substance Savannah couldn’t identify, some of them sparkling to mimic lights. In the background was a fireplace with a roaring fire.
“He does such beautiful work,” Savannah said. “The horse in the park is one of his sculptures.”
“That life-size horse made out of steel?”
“That’s the one.”
“That’s an amazing piece. You can almost see the horse breathing.” He stepped closer to the window to see the scene up close. “This is pretty amazing too. It looks like there’s an actual fire in the fireplace. I wonder how he does that?”
“I don’t know, but he’s very talented.”
“I wonder if I could commission a piece for the new airport terminal?”
“I’m sure you can. All it takes is money.”
“Fortunately, Levi Chapman has plenty of that. I’ll bring it up next time I see him, Travis, and Zack.” He turned to her and asked, “So, what do you want to do next?”
“Let’s go to the Kelly Boots store. The Kellys unveil this year’s Christmas boots tonight.”
“I don’t remember a boot unveiling. Have they always done that?”
“I don’t know,” she said, turning back the way they came to walk toward the Kelly Boots store. “They have for the last few years. I’m dying to see them.”
“You have a thing for boots, don’t you?”
“Yes, I do. Is that a problem?”
“No problem at all. I like your boots. Especially the thigh-high ones,” he said with a devilish grin.
“I kind of gathered that.” She smiled back. “But back to the Kelly Christmas boots. Every Christmas they make a special pair of men’s and women’s boots. They’re limited edition, only made at Christmas, and each year’s boots are unique to that year. Once they’re gone, they’re gone. If I don’t get there early I might not get a pair.”
“I think we’re early enough,” Harlan said when they walked into the store. “Hardly anyone is here. The Kellys aren’t even here.”
“So much the better. We’ll have a front row seat. Besides, it’s going to start filling up any time.”
Before long, people began to come in. Savannah saw Avery enter and waved her to come over.
“You’re the best!” she said, sitting in the chair beside Savannah. “Did you save this seat for me?”
“I sure did. I thought you might be here. I know you missed getting your boots last year, so I decided to save you a place.”
“I’m eternally in your debt.”
Savannah laughed. “I’m sure I’ll think of some way you can repay me.”
“Hi, Harlan,” Avery said.
“Hi, Avery. How are you?”
“I’m good. Looks like you are too.” She raised her eyebrows at the two of them.
He grinned and put an arm around Savannah. “I am more than good.”
They talked for a bit, then Avery said to Savannah, “Why is your father looking over here like he wants to murder someone?”
She glanced in the direction Avery was looking and sure enough, there was her father. And he looked mad enough to explode. Annoyed, she turned away. Fortunately, Harlan wasn’t paying attention, he was talking to the man next to him. To Avery she said, “He probably does. It’s a long story. I’ll tell you and Rachel about it later. The next time we’re all together.”
“Don’t think you’re going to get out of it. I’m dying of curiosity here.”
“You’ll survive. I don’t want to tell the story twice. Look, there’s Wyatt Kelly. They’re about to start.”
Savannah got ready to spring into action the moment the boots were unveiled and they opened up to orders. Rachel had asked her once why Savannah didn’t just put in a standing order, since she had bought a pair every year since she and Savannah became friends.
“And miss the unveiling? Where’s the fun in that? Kelly Boots Christmas boots are one of the highlights of Christmas on the Square.”