Bobby Does Dallas (Hill Country Heart) Page 4

  Still holding the dog under his arm like an oversize football, he took off after her. But a crack of thunder, and a powerful bolt of lightning scared Mojo so badly that he swan-dived out of Bobby’s arms and took off like a ruptured red bug. Shit! Another car was coming, so he didn’t have a choice about it – he took off after Ethan’s little dog. Scooping him up, he straightened up just in time to see Ceelee’s taillights highlight her license plate, but he was only able to make out the last three digits – B72. Well, hell! She seemed determined to get away from him.

  Bobby stood and watched her until she disappeared from his sight. He felt like something infinitely precious had slipped from his grasp. What could he do with just 3 digits of her plate number? Would that be enough to find her? There was one thing for certain – he was gonna give it a good ole’ Texas try. The few minutes he had been able to spend with her had been more exciting than any of the encounters he had experienced with the rodeo groupies or the UT coeds. "Ceelee, I'll find you, baby. Dallas ain't that dang big." With that, he crawled into his pickup and waited for Ethan or Alex to come and pick them up.

  *****

  Cecile was shaking like a leaf as she drove off from Bobby. She had to drive with one hand because she kept using the other one to touch her lips where he had kissed her. “Oh My God – I can’t believe I kissed a strange man on the side of the road!” she laughed out loud at herself. Well, it was better than crying. It was hard to keep her mind on her driving. All she could think about was what it felt like to be in Bobby’s arms. How different it had been than anything she had ever experienced with Carl. She had felt wanted, desired, God help her – she had felt like a woman. Even now, she was aching with longing. Her skin was tingling from his touch and her lips were still warm from his kiss. With a ragged sigh, she fought her need to turn around and head back; to find him and beg him to hold her again. Gripping the steering wheel so hard her knuckles were white, she tried to get an equal grip on her emotions.

  Almost immediately, she regretted not giving him her name. Now she had lost him forever. A sick feeling overwhelmed her. It took everything in her to keep herself heading north, she wanted to spin her car around and drive back to him as hard as she could. But most likely he would already be gone. A sob hiccupped out of her chest. What had she done? Tears were streaming from her eyes.

  ‘Think, Cecile, think. Be reasonable,’ she lecturself. Nothing that had happened between herself and Bobby had been real. Bobby’s only impression of her was one gathered under cover of the night. If he had seen her in the bright light of day, he probably wouldn't have been quite as eager to spend time with her. If he had gotten a really clear look at her, he probably wouldn’t have kissed her at all. What happened had been a mistake – on both of their parts.

  Still, their encounter had been magical. It would be a joy to dream about – to relive. And the next time she made herself come, the man of her dreams would have a brand new face. Wiping the tears from her eyes, she started making plans.

  After about a hundred miles – things were beginning to come together. Tomorrow, she would call a lawyer and initialize divorce proceedings. She would also start looking for another apartment. There was no way she was going to remain in the apartment she had shared with Carl – too many bad memories. And she had that gynecologist appointment coming up. It would be a good time to ask questions. He might not have the answers to her problem, but it was a good place to start.

  Having made that much progress, she felt empowered. The only sad spot was walking away from that incredibly sexy man who had seemed to enjoy her kiss. Why couldn’t it be different? Why couldn’t she be a different person? Why couldn’t her body and the love that she had to offer be enough to make a man happy? Turning the radio on, she found the loudest rap station that she could find – attempting to drive away the sad thoughts. Clearing her mind was imperative, because she had something really important to decide – what to do about Annalise.

  Cecile was about an hour out of Dallas and there was little traffic on I-35. Her stomach growled and she remembered that it had been hours since she had eaten anything. Pulling into a convenience store she jumped out to buy a soda and some cheese crackers. Throwing a shirt over her white blouse, she laughed at how she must have looked to Bobby. A drowned rat came to mind – make that a drowned rat with an overabundant bust-line. Laughing to herself, she could picture a cartoon character matching that description.

  Cecile tried to straighten her hair, but the dampness and no hair dryer had turned her curly top into an unkempt mop. By the expression on the night clerk's face, she was a scary sight, indeed. Oh well, that only confirmed what she had known all the time. Getting back on the road, her thoughts returned to Ethan and Annalise. He was divorced, and she was still in love with him. What a shame it would be if she didn't do something to try and get them together. Annalise was beautiful and a few scars would not be enough to keep her from being cherished by the right man. And Ethan definitely looked like the right man. If she came right out and told her friend about Ethan, she would never consent to visiting Lost Maples, but if she went down there for an entirely different reason…hmmmmm. The wheels in Cecile's mind were turning as fast as the wheels on the Lexus. And for that she was grateful. Right now, she was grateful for anything that would take her mind off of her own problems. And Bobby.

  *****

  A Few Days Later:

  "I've tried everything, Cecile," Annalise's voice was weary. "I've rested, relaxed, watched soft porn – I even lay on the bed and stared at that one photograph that I have of Ethan. It’s of him and his brothers, Alex and Bobby – but it’s the only one I have.”

  Cecile spit out a mouthful of coffee. Bobby? Bobby? Could her Bobby be Bobby Stewart? With thoughts and possibilities swirling through her head, she realized that Annalise was still talking.

  “Nothing is working. I have a severe, severe case of writer's block."

  Putting aside her own confusion, Cecile smiled as she listened to her friend. Okay. Here goes. "You know what you need?" Not waiting for an answer, she plunged in. "You need a vacation."

  "I'm not in the mood for a trip," Annalise whined pitifully. She was a cute as a button.

  "You'll like this place. It has everything." Cecile smiled to herself. Big, hunky everything. "It's where my fiasco with Carl happened, but I can't say enough about how beautiful it is there." She went on to tell Annalise about the amenities, the surrounding area, the shopping – everything she could to convince her friend that spending a few days at this restful Bed and Breakfast was exactly what she needed to get her creative juices flowing.

  "Okay! Okay! You talked me into it," Annalise laughed. "You want those chapters really bad, don't you?"

  Crossing her fingers, Cecile lied like a dog. "Yeah, the important thing is to meet that deadline. The publishing house has been on my back about this, Annalise. But, I know you can do it. You haven't let me down, yet."

  "All right. Enough said. I'm packing as we speak."

  Hanging up, Cecile smiled at the thought of her friend finding happiness. Her good mood faded, quickly, when she thought about the upcoming court hearing for her own divorce. She hated to face Carl again. He wasn't contesting the divorce, but she dreaded having to look him in the eye after all of the humiliation he had put her through. What if he had told his lawyer and his friends of their problems?

  Hell! There was no use worrying about the divore proceedings today. That was tomorrow’s problem. What she needed to do was relax. As she got ready for bed, all she could think about was Bobby. He haunted her dreams. She remembered how broad his shoulders were and how kind his eyes had been. His arms and chest had been strong and muscular and he looked like he could have picked her up and toted her forever. When she closed her eyes, she could still feel his lips and the touch of his hands. Flopping over on the bed, she moaned at the futility of her dreams. Giving into temptation, she opened the drawer in her bedside table and removed the pink, vibrating dildo that she had
bought. It now had a name. Battery-operated-boyfriend (Bob) was no longer a joke, for Cecile's sex toy was named after the man who fueled her fantasies. Its name was Bobby.

  Shedding her clothes, Cecile examined the fake penis. It was way bigger than Carl’s dick; quite a bit longer and much thicker. She knew that it would hurt if she pushed it all the way in. There was something wrong with her – sex always hurt. Soon maybe, she would have some answers about her problem – after her doctor’s appointment. Picking up the box, she read that the insertable portion was five and half inches long. This morning, she had slipped into the local CVS and bought some lube. She longed to experience penetration without pain. Squeezing out a dollop into her palm she dipped two fingers into the gel and applied it to the shaft of the dildo and more to the opening of her vagina. With one forefinger, she inserted some of the lubricant into her pussy. Cecile wasn’t naïve; she realized that the most likely reason for her pain was that Carl had never made the effort to ensure that she was properly aroused. Over time, after he had begun to ridicule and reject her – her body would anticipate the mental anguish and react by tightening and refusing to produce enough natural moisture to make intercourse enjoyable. The problem would escalate and multiply because Carl would accuse her of frigidity and being less than feminine – which, in turn – would cause her nerves to tense and all of the symptoms would get worse. It became a vicious circle; one she supposed had cost them their marriage.

  As all of these thoughts tunneled through her mind, she rimmed the opening of her womanhood, wondering if she would be able to enjoy the sex toy. Maybe if she just put it in the very edge of her pussy and let the clitoral stimulator make up the difference. Arranging herself on the bed, she placed a pillow under her hips and inserted the remote control device, resting the soft rabbit ears on her clit. Tentatively, she turned it on and she was pleasantly surprised by the pleasurable sensations that warmed her sex. Lifting her hips, Cecile increased the speed and gasped at how good it felt. As the soft thrusts of the plastic shaft teased her opening she let her mind wander and imagined that it was Bobby that was making her feel this way. She could see his massive shoulders blocking out the light and feel his warm breath as he leaned in to capture her lips. Hungrily, her vagina held on to the soft plastic – it wasn’t deep, and it didn’t hurt – Lord, it felt amazing! She wanted to thrust it deeper – but right now there was no pain, so she thought she ought to be satisfied. Cecile could almost imagine that it was Bobby bringing her to climax. For the first time, she managed to relax as something other than her own finger penetrated her vagina. Closing her eyes, she felt Bobby’s weight press her into the mattress, she felt his lips kiss her neck, and it was his name he whispered when her orgasm hit. “Bobby! Oh yes, Bobby!”

  *****

  Bobby leaned back and surveyed the section of wall that he had finished painting. Not bad. A noise behind him caused him to jerk and the ladder waved precariously.

  "Watch out, Bobby. You don't want to fall off that ladder – what would the women of Texas do?"

  Bobby steadied himself and climbed down the ladder. This was as good an opportunity as any to get the information he needed. And he was desperate. Memories of that one shared kiss with his little water sprite haunted him night and day. No other woman would do – it was as simple as that. "You and Alex have some friends that are PI's. Do you think that you could give me their names and numbers?"

  Ethan studied his brother. There was something different about him. He had been more serious, lately. "Sure, I'll give you their number. Their names are Bo Roscoe, Chase Trahan and Dominic Vance. We've know them for years – they're good guys. They'll find whatever or whoever you're looking for." He waited to see if Bobby would confide in him. He wasn't disappointed.

  "I'm thinking about asking them to help me find Ceelee. I can't get her out of my mind, Ethan. What would you do?" Bobby expected him to make a couple of wisecracks, but he didn't.

  "Go for it. I'd give everything I had for a chance to find ‘Lise Evans."

  "Why don't you?" Bobby couldn't believe his ears.

  "It's been too long, Bob. Too much water has run under the bridge. Even if I were able to find her, it wouldn't be the same. I'm just not the man that I used to be." Sadness colored every word that Ethan spoke.

  "Bullshit!" Bobby said flatly. "You're more man than any of those pansy-ass cowboys that I ride with. I love my Longhorns, but you've got all of them beat, too. Ethan, you've been my rock for years. Don't tell me that you're going to let that ice cube of an ex-wife steal the rest of your life. Do something. If you're still hung up on ‘Lise Evans – find her. She may still be in love with you."

  "I doubt that, Bobby. Lise was perfection. She was loving, gentle – and her body responded to mine like she was created just for me." Ethan grew quiet – lost in thought – memories of making love with Annalise flooding his mind and heart. She had always wanted him. She had never turned him away. The voice of his ex-wife grated in his memory, 'You're lousy in bed, Ethan. I'm never able to come with you inside me. I can get a better orgasm with a dildo and a romance book that I can with you.'

  "Don't give up, Ethan." Bobby lowered his voice, noticing a couple of guests walking by. "Please."

  Ethan stooped and sealed the paint can while Bobby cleaned the brush in some paint thinner. "What are your plans for the rest of the day?" This was Ethan's way of taking the focus of the conversation off of him.

  "I'm gonna take the bull by the horns." Bobby was adamant. "If you'll give me that number for Roscoe, I'm gonna call him as soon as I get through here. Then, I've got to run over to San Marcos and register for the charity rodeo. I'm riding in memory of Shaun."

  Both of them grew silent for a moment – remembering the vibrant young man whose life was snuffed out in an instant by crushing hooves and cruel horns. Standing, Ethan squeezed Bobby's shoulder. "Be safe and come back hungry – I'm gonna fix a big pot of spaghetti sauce."

  "All right, I’ll be back before supper." Bobby headed to the truck. "And tell Alex that I know he short-sheeted my bed last night. He tried to make me believe that it was little Mrs. Osborn who stays with us all the time, but I know it was him." Bobby couldn't help but grin, revenge was sweet.

  Ethan shook his head. "What did you do?"

  "If he wants to play like we're at summer camp, I have my ways to get even. Go look at the flagpole." As Bobby pulled away and waved, Ethan walked to the front and chuckled as he saw the burnt orange pair of Longhorn boxer briefs with Alex's name wrote in big letters across the crotch. They were waving merrily in the breeze from the very top of the flagpole.

  "I live in a looneybin," Ethan sighed.

  *****

  "I'm almost there," Annalise told Cecile in a happy-go-lucky voice. "Ah, gee – I just turned down Lonely Street. I hope this isn't going to be the Heartbreak Hotel."

  "Just keep going, I think you'll be pleasantly surprised." Cecile was praying with everything in her that she wasn't setting Annalise up for more hurt. A couple of days ago, Annalise had finally broken down and told Cecile more about the day that had stolen her dreams. She had been in Houston on Spring Break with her family. After spilling some cocktail sauce on herself, she had walked back to the hotel to change clothes before they went on the rest of their outing. Shehadn't made it. A gang of young men had attacked her, and one of them, who had been trying to gain membership in the gang, had tried to rape her. He had been too drunk to get it up, so to save face he had broken the top off of a glass whiskey bottle and raped her with the jagged weapon.

  She had almost died from blood loss, and while in the hospital, her sister had said that she cried out his name over and over, begging him to come to her. When she was finally able to talk on the phone, an unknown female had answered his cell and informed her that he didn't have time to come to the phone, and that he had decided to see other people. It had broken her heart. She had not returned to UT until the next semester, and by then Ethan had graduated and moved on.

&nbs
p; For a while, Annalise had been angry and hurt. Gradually, she came to realize what a true blessing it had been. The scarring on her inner thighs and labia had been horrific. After multiple reconstructive surgeries, she had been assured that everything was in working order, but the idea of Ethan seeing or touching her far-from-perfect body filled her with shame. At her parent's urging, she had allowed the youth pastor at their church to talk her into a whirlwind courtship and marriage. But on their wedding night he had taken one look between her legs and promptly threw up over the side of the bed. The idea of Ethan reacting in a similar fashion had been the absolute worst thing that she could imagine. So Annalise had found her silver lining where she could. Instead of harboring anger toward Ethan, she had cherished every memory of him and used those memories to make the long, lonely nights bearable.

  "Okay, I'll call you in a couple of days and let you know how I'm doing," Annalise promised her. Cecile had to bite her tongue to keep from asking Annalise to keep an eye out for a raven-haired, hunk with a darling, little dog named Mojo.

  *****

  "Hey, Tad! We could use your help over here." Bobby wasn't a cruel person, but he did have a keen sense of right and wrong. And he was just about to piss off an arrogant, urban cowboy-wannabe who had overstepped his bounds with a woman. There were plenty of buckle bunnies for the choosing. Bobby was just as guilty as the next rodeo cowboy of accepting what they offered – be it right or wrong – but he drew the line at demanding what wasn't offered. Even in their macho world of bucking broncs, sweaty men, and big-eyed eager girls – 'no' still meant 'no'. Bobby and Trace Montgomery had happened on Tad as he was pinning a young woman to the wall and fumbling with her breasts, while she had been begging for him to let her go. Bobby had pulled him off and they had drug him away and hauled him to the woodshed for a serious talking to. But Tad had persisted, and other women were complaining about his rough hand and asshole attitude. So, Bobby and the boys had decided to take him down a notch.