your lips to the carnie owner’s ears,” Alana said.
* * *
The festival was a two-day affair. The carnival had moved into town on Friday evening, had gotten set up and ready for business. Saturday was the big day. Sunday was a little slower, but still not too bad. On Monday, the carnies broke down their equipment, packed up, and moved on to the next town, usually up to Goodnight, where the next big to-do would be held next weekend.
Time had been when neither Pax nor Alana would have gotten home on Saturday night until after midnight the weekend of the festival, but that evening they’d seen all they wanted to see and visited with everyone they knew by nine o’clock. The stars were dimmed by all the carnival lights, and the smell of so many foods mingling together wasn’t so appealing anymore. Maverick and Bridget had gone home an hour before to put a tired and cranky Laela to bed. Iris had declared that she’d had enough and gone with them.
“Look at us,” Alana said as Pax parked in front of her house. “We must be engaged tonight, because if we were dating, we’d be out until dawn.”
“We’re pregnant,” he reminded her. “The baby needs its rest. I read an article this week that said if the mother stays up half the night, then the baby will do the same when it’s born. So if you want to get much sleep after she gets here, then you better keep an early schedule until then.”
“She?” Alana asked.
“Your dad seems pretty sure we’re having a girl,” Pax said.
“Well, if Daddy is wrong, don’t you think it might give a boy a complex to hear himself referred to as she for nine months?” Alana undid her seat belt, slid over, and kissed him.
“Maybe not this early. Want to make a trip by the tack room?” He kissed her this time and teased her lips open with the tip of his tongue.
“Love to, but I’m flat out too tired,” she said when the kiss ended. “Walk me to the door, like that old song says. Kiss me one more time, and then let me get some sleep. We’ll sneak off to the tack room tomorrow after church. You can bring your chaps and boots.”
He opened the door to his truck, stepped out, and leaned back inside. “Darlin’, that would be more than you could stand.”
“Try me.” She flashed a brilliant smile at him.
He rounded the front end of the truck and opened the door for her. Then he whistled the old tune about walking her to the door all the way to the porch. He stopped at the top of the steps, put his hands on her shoulders, and drew her lips to his for one more scalding hot kiss. “Who needs role-play when we have enough heat between us to burn down the state of Texas?”
“How about I wear chaps and boots and nothing else?” she teased.
Pax groaned. “You’re killin’ me, woman.”
“Try to keep that picture out of your dreams tonight,” she whispered seductively into his ear.
Dreams, hell! he thought as he kissed her once more. Then he jogged to his truck. He’d have trouble getting that vision out of his head in his waking moments, never mind in his dreams. He was still smiling at Alana’s sassiness when he passed a guy walking along the edge of the road. The man had a backpack slung over his shoulder, a stocking hat on his head, and was wearing baggy jeans. Not anyone from around here, Pax thought, but the guy looked vaguely familiar. He wasn’t thumbing a ride, and Pax was a full fifty yards down the road when his conscience got the best of him. He pulled over and waited until the man caught up and then rolled down the window.
“Where you headed, buddy?” Pax asked. “Need a ride? Did you have car trouble back down the road?” Pax asked.
“Headed to the Callahan Ranch,” the guy said. “I’d love a ride. Didn’t realize that five miles was so far away. Hey, I met you at the festival this afternoon.”
Paxton finally recognized the guy as the kid he’d talked to back at the sunglass vendor. What did he say his name was? Marty Deeks? No, that was the character that Alana talked about on the television show. Landon…something or other.
“That’s right. I remember you,” Pax said as he shifted into gear and started off again.