“Ten, hell yeah!”
The women yelled with Gretchen Wilson as she sang “Redneck
Woman” and asked the redneck girls to give her a big hell
yeah as the New Year’s countdown began.
“Nine, hell yeah.”
“Eight, hell yeah.”
Everyone held up their plastic flute of champagne.
“Seven, hell yeah!”
The men in the Honky Tonk beer joint yelled with the women.
“Six, hell yeah!”
“Five, hell yeah!”
Cathy was half way across the dance floor headed for the bar
and stopped to look at everyone who’d be kissing someone in
four more seconds. She remembered the previous year when she
had someone to kiss. Even if he did turn out to be a first
rate son-of-a-bitch, she missed the excitement of bringing
in a brand new year with a kiss.
“Four, hell yeah!”
She looked up to see a cowboy coming right at her. She
blinked a several times. It wasn’t possible. Her imagination
was playing tricks like it had for twelve years.
“Three, hell yeah!”
Watching him cross the floor in those long strides made
goose bumps the size of mountains rise up on her arms.
“Two, hell yeah!”
Was he deranged or just drunk? If he didn’t stop soon he
would plow right into her.
“One! Hell yeah!” the noise shook the rafters.
He stopped with the toes of his scuffed up boots barely an
inch from her feet and wrapped his strong arms around her,
tilted her chin with the flat part of his fist and kissed
her hard and passionately.
“Hell yeah!” the whole crowd roared when their kisses ended.
“Hell, no!” Cathy mumbled. She wiped the back of her hand
across her mouth but it didn’t take the red hot sting from
her lips.
He was the exactly what she liked in a man. Tight jeans,
denim jacket over a knit shirt, blond hair and dear lord,
were those blue eyes? He looked so much like a grown up
version of her first love that she wondered why he didn’t
still wear contact lenses after the kiss when time and noise
stood still. Eyes the color of a Texas summer sky stared
down into hers from behind wire rimmed glasses. A wide grin
split his face showing off perfectly even and white teeth.
No one had teeth that perfect. No one except Bobby Cole and
that was water under a bridge that had been burned years and
years ago. Evidently a million dollar smile hadn’t left much
for haircuts, though, because blond curls touched his shirt
collar.
“Happy New Year.” He was surprised that he could speak a
coherent sentence. He only meant to kiss the woman for New
Year’s. He didn’t mean for it to glue his boots to the
hardwood dance floor and put a shit eating grin on his face.
If he’d had to wipe the smile from his face or eat dirt,
he’d have had to open up his mouth and shovel in a spoon
full. Hot damn, but that woman had the softest, sexiest lips
he’d ever kissed.
“Who in the hell are you?” Cathy asked.
“I’m Travis Henry. I’m supposed to meet Merle and Angel
Avery here. I am at the Honky Tonk, aren’t I?”
