Jackson: The Sons of Dusty Walker by Randi Alexander Read Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Randi Alexander
“I
hope dining al fresco is agreeable with you, Ms. Hughes.”
“It’s Rori, please, and yes, I’d love to stay outside now
that it’s cooled off a little.” Rori turned to look at the table. Behind her
back, Marliss winked at Jackson and gave him a thumbs-up.
He shook his head and picked up the platter. “C’mon Ms.
Hughes. Let’s get comfortable and enjoy the best cookin’ in the tri-state
area.”
They sat and picked at the amazing, spicy,
southwestern-themed appetizers until Marliss carried out two covered plates,
set them in front of them, and removed the covers to reveal a meal as delicious
as any he’d had in expensive Mexican restaurants. They dug in.
“Wow, Lou is really good.” Rori set down her fork, patted
her belly, then sipped at her second refill of margarita.
“Last night, he made me this steak…” Jackson had been amazed
at the welcome he’d received from Marliss and Lou. They’d treated him like he
was family, gave him the full tour, the codes for the doors and the keys for
the vehicles. After they’d shown him which bedroom his half-brother, Dylan, had
used the week before, he’d chosen the one next to it, with a view of the lake.
Marliss had even brought his supper to his room, where he sat at the table
watching TV for a while until he gave it up and began counting the stars as
they appeared over the lake.
“That good, huh?” Rori’s smile warmed him deep inside.
“Sorry, this is all a lot to take in.” He blinked down at
the food on his plate. And it would be so easy to get used to. He looked toward
the hillside behind the house. The orange glow told him the sun was getting
close to the horizon. “C’mon.” He stood. “Let’s go watch the sunset.”
She jumped up and reached for her plate.
“No. Don’t touch that.” He glanced toward the kitchen. “I
learned the hard way that we don’t bus our own dishes. That’s Marliss’s job.”
“Oh, that’s too funny.” Rori lifted her hands as if in
surrender. “Wouldn’t want to get into any trouble.”
He took her hand and led her around the side of the house
and down the gradual sloping walkway to the sandy lakeshore. Three docks jutted
into the water, two of them holding boats and a pontoon, the other longer, with
personal watercraft, both motorized and paddle-driven. A gazebo sat at the end
of the dock.
“This is pretty impressive.” Rori held tight to his hand,
and it felt too right to Jackson. Like she was someone he’d known for a long
time.
Outside the gazebo stood a swinging seat just big enough for
two, and he gestured for her to sit.
She didn’t move, just looked up at him, the orange glow of
the sun shimmering in her hair, sparkling in her eyes. “Jackson.”
“Darlin’.” He stepped closer, his belt buckle brushing
against her stomach. “I’ve been wanting to do this all day.”
After glancing at the water, she blinked her pretty eyes up
at him. “Throw me in?”
“Not hardly.” He slid his hands along her arms to her
shoulders, slowly, gently, giving her plenty of room to say no. When she tipped
her head, he had to take. Pressing his lips to hers, he let a wash of desire
flood him, hardening him in his jeans, and sending his thoughts to the two of
them in his bedroom.
His tongue slid along the seam of her lips, tasting sweet
and sour margarita, before he pressed it inside her mouth, tasting the deep,
warm spices of their supper mixed with the addictive flavor of her.
Her arms wrapped around his neck as she pulled herself
closer to him, deepening the kiss.
Against his shirt, burning through layers of fabric, her
nipples rubbed, hard and hot against his chest. She let out a little moan that
made him far too wild.
Sliding one hand down her back, he cupped her ass, squeezing
the firm, ripe roundness as his tongue played with hers. Then it hit him. Rori
was okay with this? He ended the kiss but stayed just an inch from her lips.
“You know, I’m still a rodeo cowboy.”
Her
hope dining al fresco is agreeable with you, Ms. Hughes.”
“It’s Rori, please, and yes, I’d love to stay outside now
that it’s cooled off a little.” Rori turned to look at the table. Behind her
back, Marliss winked at Jackson and gave him a thumbs-up.
He shook his head and picked up the platter. “C’mon Ms.
Hughes. Let’s get comfortable and enjoy the best cookin’ in the tri-state
area.”
They sat and picked at the amazing, spicy,
southwestern-themed appetizers until Marliss carried out two covered plates,
set them in front of them, and removed the covers to reveal a meal as delicious
as any he’d had in expensive Mexican restaurants. They dug in.
“Wow, Lou is really good.” Rori set down her fork, patted
her belly, then sipped at her second refill of margarita.
“Last night, he made me this steak…” Jackson had been amazed
at the welcome he’d received from Marliss and Lou. They’d treated him like he
was family, gave him the full tour, the codes for the doors and the keys for
the vehicles. After they’d shown him which bedroom his half-brother, Dylan, had
used the week before, he’d chosen the one next to it, with a view of the lake.
Marliss had even brought his supper to his room, where he sat at the table
watching TV for a while until he gave it up and began counting the stars as
they appeared over the lake.
“That good, huh?” Rori’s smile warmed him deep inside.
“Sorry, this is all a lot to take in.” He blinked down at
the food on his plate. And it would be so easy to get used to. He looked toward
the hillside behind the house. The orange glow told him the sun was getting
close to the horizon. “C’mon.” He stood. “Let’s go watch the sunset.”
She jumped up and reached for her plate.
“No. Don’t touch that.” He glanced toward the kitchen. “I
learned the hard way that we don’t bus our own dishes. That’s Marliss’s job.”
“Oh, that’s too funny.” Rori lifted her hands as if in
surrender. “Wouldn’t want to get into any trouble.”
He took her hand and led her around the side of the house
and down the gradual sloping walkway to the sandy lakeshore. Three docks jutted
into the water, two of them holding boats and a pontoon, the other longer, with
personal watercraft, both motorized and paddle-driven. A gazebo sat at the end
of the dock.
“This is pretty impressive.” Rori held tight to his hand,
and it felt too right to Jackson. Like she was someone he’d known for a long
time.
Outside the gazebo stood a swinging seat just big enough for
two, and he gestured for her to sit.
She didn’t move, just looked up at him, the orange glow of
the sun shimmering in her hair, sparkling in her eyes. “Jackson.”
“Darlin’.” He stepped closer, his belt buckle brushing
against her stomach. “I’ve been wanting to do this all day.”
After glancing at the water, she blinked her pretty eyes up
at him. “Throw me in?”
“Not hardly.” He slid his hands along her arms to her
shoulders, slowly, gently, giving her plenty of room to say no. When she tipped
her head, he had to take. Pressing his lips to hers, he let a wash of desire
flood him, hardening him in his jeans, and sending his thoughts to the two of
them in his bedroom.
His tongue slid along the seam of her lips, tasting sweet
and sour margarita, before he pressed it inside her mouth, tasting the deep,
warm spices of their supper mixed with the addictive flavor of her.
Her arms wrapped around his neck as she pulled herself
closer to him, deepening the kiss.
Against his shirt, burning through layers of fabric, her
nipples rubbed, hard and hot against his chest. She let out a little moan that
made him far too wild.
Sliding one hand down her back, he cupped her ass, squeezing
the firm, ripe roundness as his tongue played with hers. Then it hit him. Rori
was okay with this? He ended the kiss but stayed just an inch from her lips.
“You know, I’m still a rodeo cowboy.”
Her