Lyn and Mary drive up to the parking lot at the Cowboy's Stadium, home of the Dallas Cowboys. A fantastic party has been arranged, a traditional tailgate party for our guest this week, Celia Yeary.
"Hey Lyn, this SUV is really cool, I am so glad you let me drive." Western music fills the air and Lyn bobs her head to the sound of LeAnn Rimes as she sings, "Swinging'
"Mary, you don't need four wheel drive for this so take it off, you're sliding all over the road. We should have had Oliver drive."
"Puullleeasse Lyn, we're here already, hold on to your pants. No wait those short, shorts, will reveal more than you want if you try to hold onto them." Mary laughs and ducks Lyn's hand as she swats at Mary.
They find the right party in the lot and pull up to the circle of SUV's, stationwagons and trucks. Lawn chairs, umbrellas, coolers and tables are setup and filled with food. Grills are blazing and the aroma of Jumbo Texas shrimp, burgers, steaks and hot dogs, make their mouths water.
Oliver is handsome as ever, even though he misses Sharon. He looks smashing in his tight jeans, cowboy boots and checkered Western shirt. He just shakes his head and laughs at the two of them. He will have to take the boxes of Celia's new release, Texas Promise, and set up a table where she can sign them.
Lyn is dressed in shorts and a sexy, blue top, Mary is wearing a T shirt that says, 'I don't know why they say I have ADHD, oh look a chicken'. Her big boobs make the shirt tight across the top. She is wearing her favorite jeans, and brown suede cowboy boots.
Lyn has on large, white, cowboy boots, and a bandanna about her neck. They both look great. Too bad Lyn doesn't know much about a Texas Tailgate Party. She is in for the time of her life, Texas style. She is dressed to participate in the half time show with the cheerleaders.
Lyn eyes the baked potatoes and drools over the vast array of toppings, from cheese, red hot chili, and hot peppers, to the standard sour cream and bacon. Mary dips a huge chip into fresh Mango salsa, then her eyes water as she tries the hot tomato salsa.
Large pans of Texas chili, are cooling in the shade of an umbrella.
"Oh look Mary, guacamole, pecan pie, and what is that, Blue Bell Ice cream? Mmmmmmm." A dozen strawberry covered coconut pound cakes and huge chocolate sheet cakes, wait for that made in Texas, Blue Bell, ice cream.
"This peach iced tea is wonderful Lyn. I see you like the home made beer? Look at all the varieties, try the Fosters, you might like it. Look at that - Texan wines!"
"Oh look there's Celia, boy she looks great." Mary nudges Lyn. As they walk to where Celia is talking with friends, they both look around them, amazed at all the things to eat.
Folding tables hold a further array of foods, including potato salad, cole slaw, and chips.
Lyn and Mary pass them by and run to hug Celia and congratulate her. Celia looks radiant in her snug, well worn jeans, her black leather cowboy boots and her own T shirt that says, Kiss An Author on it. She hugs them both, then Oliver, just a tad too long. So Mary pulls him away, and sends him to set up the book table.
Lyn blows a whistle to get the attention of the dozens of guests.
"Hello everyone, welcome to Celia's celebration. Please enjoy yourselves before the game. I know you men are looking forward to the Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders. I got my white boots, my shorts, and my top, I'm ready." She holds up her hands to silence the whistles and cheers.
"Let the party begin!"
Blurb FOR: Texas Promise:
After two years, Jo Cameron King’s life as a widow abruptly ends when her husband returns home to Austin. Unable to understand her angry and bitter husband, she accepts a call to travel to the New Mexico Territory to meet her dying birth father whom she knows nothing about. Her plan to escape her husband goes awry when he demands to travel with her.Dalton King, believing lies his Texas Ranger partner tells him about Jo, seethes with hatred toward his wife. Now he must protect Jo from his partner’s twisted mind, while sorting out the truth. Jo’s bravery and loyalty convince him she’s innocent. But can they regain the love and respect they once shared?
After a few minutes of puttering around in the kitchen, she heard the boots on the stairs.
"You're going? Tell me you're not making this trip. Who's going with you? Surely you're traveling with someone." His voice rose once more.
Now, she really did fly off the handle. There was no reasoning with him, no normal conversation. All he could do was accuse, question, and demand. Well, she'd had enough. She slammed out the back door into the twilight.
In instant motion, Dalton slammed out right after her.
"You come back here and answer me!"
She whirled around and leaned from the waist. Pointing a finger at him, she said, "You... you can go to... perdition!"
He came close, spread his legs, and hooked his fingers on his hips. Thrusting his head toward her, he said, "What? I've never heard you talk like that. And the word is 'hell,' lady, 'hell!' Say it! Tell me to go to hell!"
"You... you can go to... hell! There, I said it! That's the only place for you now! It's certainly not with me! You... you abandoned me! And, and you humiliated me! Furthermore...you--" The tears bubbled up from the crack in her heart, spilled over, down her cheeks, and into the corner of her mouth. Sobbing and shaking, she made one last attempt at getting her point across. "I...I ha-a-t-e you!"
Before she could swing around and run to the house, Dalton captured her with firm arms, but ever so gently. He kissed all her tears away from her face and her eyes. Last, he licked and sucked every teardrop away from her mouth. He reached in a back pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. "Here, blow," he instructed, as he held it to her nose.
She did, and then leaned forward to wipe her face on his shirt. In doing so, she smelled his strong scent, male smells, mixed with sweat and grime. Oh, how heavenly. She burrowed her face in his chest.
Dalton's resolve unraveled. She felt it. He hugged her tightly, lifted her chin, and kissed her full on the mouth. He turned his head this way, and that way, gaining complete entrance by thrusting his tongue into the warm, wet cavity. Around and around he swept, tasting the moisture from her mouth, and feeling the texture of her recesses and teeth. Pulling back, he whispered as he smoothed her damp hair from one side of her face. "Now, you're going to do what I say and stay here, aren't you?"
She shook her head. He placed his big hand on the back of her head and manipulated it up and down, mimicking 'yes'. Again, she shook her head. And once more, he bobbed her head up and down. Her forehead bumped his chest each time. A small giggle escaped from her throat.
Dalton sighed heavily. "All right, then, Miss Priss, I'll go with you."
Miss Priss. The name he called her when they were children, usually when he knew he'd been beaten but still wanted to play.
Bio: Celia Yeary
Celia Yeary is a seventh-generation Texan, and her life revolves around family, friends, and writing. San Marcos has been her home for thirty-five years. She has five published romance novels, four “coming soon” novels, and published essays with a local magazine. The author is a former science teacher, graduate of Texas Tech University and Texas State University, mother of two, grandmother of three, and wife of a wonderful, supportive Texan. Celia and her husband enjoy traveling, and both are involved in their church, the community, and the university as retired faculty.