Sassy Cowgirl Kisses by Kathy Fawcett

Chapter 47

“Welcome, everyone,” Ridge said easily into the microphone. He paused to give guests by the hundreds time to stop their conversations and turn his way. A few old cowboys were in the middle of shaggy dog stories, and were not going down without a fight.

“I remember the year my mom and daddy first hosted a West Ranch cookout—about two dozen folks came from town and surrounding ranches. Now, look at us all!”

Hoots and applause broke out in all the groups.

“I’m going to let you get back to your dancing and gabbing and eatin’, but I want to give you a few ground rules. First, pick up after yourself—I ain’t your nanny.”

The crowd laughed heartily at Ridge’s comment.

“Second, keep your talk clean. My grandbabies are running around.”

Many women nodded in appreciation.

“And last, no fistfights over politics or religion. I’m looking at you, Marta.”

At that, everyone laughed and applauded, while Marta Scott laughed the loudest.

“Now, have fun,” Ridge said. “Oh, and one last comment for the church ladies. I’m not a young man; I’m only dancing with my wife tonight. Now let’s party!”

Ridge handed the microphone back to the event planner and reached out for Casey’s hand as the band struck up a song. Together, the two made their way to the parquet dance floor by the river, where she fell into his arms as he spun her around. Soon, others were following suit.

“Ridge West,” Casey said with a mischievous smile as they swayed back and forth, “I could tell those church ladies a thing or two that would make them blush, and make you out to be a liar—not a young man, my foot. Why, just last night…”

“Oh, you don’t want to go and do that.” Ridge pulled her closer and whispered roughly in her ear. “It took me years to get them off my scent. Look at the lengths I had to go to, marrying you and all.”

Casey gave him a playful swat on the backside of his jeans.

“You must have thought you were doing me a favor,” she teased, “marrying the old maid realtor.”

“Casey girl, everyone knows you got the short end of the stick with this marriage,” Ridge said with a wicked smile of his own, “but I’m going to hold you to it.”

Before Casey could comment, Ridge kissed her hard on the lips, and then swung her into a dip before twirling her again. Off to one side of the dance floor, a group of elderly women from the Presbyterian sewing circle sat eating tacos and drinking lemonade.

“He doesn’t look that old to me,” one mumbled in complaint, as the others agreed.

“Or tired!”