Their hands got tangled together while they worked on patting the pile of sand into a mound. The chemistry between them caused so much heat that she thought the sand might turn to glass, but Bubba seemed as cool as the old proverbial cucumber. He didn’t even flinch when his bare arm brushed against her shoulder as he reached around her to grab a red plastic cup.
“Got to have something to make round turrets with,” he said, and kept working like he was building something permanent. “See, this is where the evil stepmother puts the princess Lula Ann in the attic for wanting to go out with a common old hired hand. But she’s smart and figures out a way to climb out the window.” He fashioned a narrow walkway with his big hands. “And she inches her way over to this tree.” He stuck a piece of driftwood into the sand.
“And she crawls down it, and they ride off. The wicked stepmother never finds them, and they live happily ever after.” Holly giggled. “Do you really think I’m a princess?”
“Of course, and I’m the cowboy-in-shining-boots-and-hat who rides in on his buckskin horse to save you from growing old all alone in that horrible, cold turret room.”
The surf would wash all their work away by morning, just like in a couple of days all that would remain of their time together would be a painful memory for what could not be. In time it would fade—hopefully.
“What are you thinking about?” Bubba asked. “Are you sorry that you gave your heart to someone who was nothing more than a hired hand, who could only offer you his undying love?”
She threw the back of her hand over her forehead in a dramatic gesture. “Never! Not in a gazillion years. I’m just sorry that my vacation has to end.”
“Me, too.” He stopped packing sand into the cup and leaned over the top of the start of the sandcastle to kiss her—passionately, steamily, and long. One kiss led to another and another until they were both panting, then he broke away.
“Wow!” she muttered, and waved a hand in front of her face in an attempt to cool herself.
She had had a few short-lived relationships, but nothing had ever affected her like that string of kisses. But not even an artist with a can of paint could change a leopard’s spots.
“I agree,” Bubba whispered. “I knew that kissing you would be amazing, but …”
She shook her head. “That was so good that it doesn’t get a but.”
Bubba grinned and nodded. “Amen, but we only live half an hour away from each other. Vacation ending doesn’t mean we have to be over, does it? I’d like to continue seeing you.”
“I’m away a lot of the time,” she said. “Sometimes for two weeks at a stretch.”
“Where to?” he asked.
“About every state that might have oil in the United States, but mainly right here in good old Texas,” she answered.
“You do come home after each job, right?” he asked.
“Yes, I do, for at least a week to go over my reports and …” She stopped before she went into too much detail.
“Then we’ll make time while you are home.” He smiled. “But since tomorrow night is our last night for a while—otherthan texts and phone calls—I’d like to take you somewhere very special.”
“What could be better than this right here?” she asked, and went back to building the sandcastle, primarily to keep her hands off his broad chest, which had just the right amount of soft dark hair under his shirt, which was flapping open.
“The ranch where I work. I’ve only got one horse right now, but we could take out a couple of four-wheelers, and you could meet my dog, Turbo, and the foreman, Elijah,” he answered.
“I would love to see where you work,” she answered. “Give me the directions and a time to meet you there.”
“I will come and get you. Maybe seven so we can sit by the little creek that runs through the property and watch a sunset from that angle?” he asked.
“I’ll be ready,” she said, and then pointed up to the sky. “Hurry, there’s a falling star. If you see it …”
He jerked his head up. “I saw it just before it burned out. Now we can both make a wish.”
Holly closed her eyes tightly and wished for a second chance with Bubba when he found out who she really was. She didn’t even care if her folks thought she had lost her mind for falling in love with a ranch hand—not anymore.
Her eyes popped open so fast that the stars blurred for a moment before she got control and could focus again. She could not be in love with Bubba. No way. She had met him on Saturday night. This was Thursday. True love took time. This had to be nothing more than a flash in the pan, so to speak. Holly did not believe in love at first sight.
“I like you, Lula Ann,” Bubba said. “Even after you go back to work, I would like to spend more time with you. That’s what I wished for.”
“You are, by your own words, a bit of a playboy. What makes you think I could hold your attention when other women couldn’t?” she asked.
He moved closer to her and cupped her face in his hands. “Maybe I want to change.”
