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“Ace! Where are you?”
“Up here, baby.” London bounded up the steps and into Ace’s arms.
“Wow, that’s some greeting. What’s going on?”
“Nothing. Just happy to see you.”
He pulled away to look into her eyes. “I could get used to having that kind of greeting every day.”
“Hmm.” London leaned in for a kiss, ending further conversation for the next several minutes.
London wore a cute minidress that gathered at the bodice and flared from the waist. Ace reached for the hem, pulled it up and palmed her satin-covered cheeks. A few seconds more and his happiness began to grow. He swirled his hips, pushed the bulge against London’s waist.
“Come on. We’re both wearing too many clothes.”
London pulled away. “I want you so badly. But not right now. Everybody’s over at Warren’s house. They’re waiting for us. Come on.”
“Warren? Which brother is this?”
“The rancher.” London laughed at Ace’s frustrated expression. “You’ll have fun. He and his wife, Charli, have horses, lots of land. You and my brothers can finally settle the score on who has the better B-ball skills.”
“If you think playing basketball with your brothers tops what I want to do with you right now, then, baby, you don’t know me as well as I thought.”
“I’m sure it doesn’t. At least I’d hope so.” She reached for his hand and pulled him toward the stairs. “It’s just that the sooner we get over there, the sooner we can say our goodbyes and come back here.”
“Why in the heck didn’t you say so?” Ace picked her up and ran down the stairs. “Let’s go!”
Ace’s silly antics continued once they got in the car. He sped through the streets of Paradise Cove, his Porsche’s wheels hugging the turns. Once they reached the straightaway to Paradise Valley and Warren’s ranch he “blew out the car’s cobwebs,” as his stepfather, Hank, would say. At 140 miles per hour, he ate up the five remaining miles to their destination in just over two minutes flat.
They pulled into a party in full swing. Nannies chased kids running across the Drakes’ vast front yard. Music drifted from the backyard, along with the smell of roasting corn and grilling meat. In the backyard, they greeted the crew. Even Reginald and Julian were there. Ace followed London over to where a tall man wearing a cowboy hat expertly flipped a slab of ribs.
“Your brother Warren?”
“How’d you guess?”
Warren turned around. “Hey, London.”
“Hey, bro.”
“And you must be Ace.” Warren wiped his hand against the apron he wore before reaching out to Ace. “Heard you play a little ball.”
“Every now and then.”
“Well, I’ve got a full court out back. We’ll get a chance to see what kind of player you are, what you’re made of.”
“Hey, man, the way you’re handling that slab of meat, you’re my kind of player already!”
“Ha!” Warren looked over at a pretty, slender lady wearing jean shorts, a tee and cowboy boots. “Hey, baby. Do me a favor and get Ace a beer.”
The woman reached into a tub filled with bottles and cans, pulled out a beer, brought it over and handed it to Ace.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Hey, London.”
“Hi, Charli.” The women hugged. “Charli, this is Ace.”
“So nice to finally meet you.”
“It’s my pleasure. Are you the one London says rides a horse better than most men?”
“I don’t know about all that.”
“She’s being modest,” Warren said. “Girl is one of the baddest horse riders this side of the Mississippi.”
“Do you ride?” Charli asked.
“Not horses.” Ace kept a straight face. London nudged him.
“London, come with me for a sec. I need your help with something.”
“Sure.” She kissed Ace’s cheek. “Be right back.”
London and Charli went inside and walked down a short hallway into a large, airy kitchen that rivaled commercial grade.
“I know you don’t cook much,” Charli began.
