Excerpt of High Lonesome by Stacey Coverstone

In the several minutes she was gone, Scott let his eyes drift shut again and he replayed in his mind the feel of her touch on his neck and scalp. He’d been craving it, dreaming of it for days. When he imagined her hands exploring his naked body, he came to attention again. His eyes flew open when the screen door banged shut.

Beth returned to the porch holding a pair of ice tongs and a fresh white, hot, steaming towel in a bowl. She asked him to scoot the chair up against the side of the house then she stood in front of him and told him to lay his head back. She placed the moist towel over his face.

Scott settled back and said, “Mmmm. That feels real good.”

“I’ll mix up the shaving cream while the steam does it thing.” Beth patted the hot towel down with her hands, gently molding it to his skin. A quick clack-clack-clack told him she whipped the shaving cream up in a mug. When she unwound the towel from Scott’s face, vapors rolled off his cheeks and chin. “Ready?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am.”

She brushed the thick cream all over his cheeks, chin, and down his neck. It smelled like mint. She seemed in no hurry, as if they had all the time in the world. She dabbed the cream onto his cheeks with the bristle brush. Slow and deliberate were the strokes.

Scott held her gaze. When she took the razor into her hand, she raised it into the air, and the sunlight caught its silvery glint. The melding of metal and sun created a rainbow, which bounced off the glass window next to them.

Beth’s voice was so low it was almost inaudible when she asked him, “Do you trust me, cowboy?”

He gazed deep into her emerald pools. “With my life.” Her mouth drifted over his like a spring cloud, and he could feel her warm breath mingle with the mint-scented heat rising from his face. She sunk the razor into the foam, and the sharp edge rested against his cheek. He held his breath. When she made the first stroke, a shiver spiraled down his spine. Beth slid the razor over his skin, one deliberate stroke at a time. After each, she wiped the excess cream off with a fresh towel. To Scott, it felt like it was all happening in slow motion. He closed his eyes.

Beth continued this routine until his face was bare of foam, and then she ran the razor across his chin and down his neck.

When the shave was complete, she caressed Scott’s cheeks and neck with a warm, damp towel one last time in order to remove any residual cream. He opened his eyes again, and she shook some after-shave lotion into both palms and patted it onto the sides of his face.

A hot flame crept up his neck to pulse in his cheeks. Impulsively he reached for her hands. It didn’t matter whether he made a fool of himself. He had to tell her how he felt. And he had to tell her now.

“Beth. Things can happen between a man and woman, before they’re ever physical. Deep things that can fix a person in somebody’s heart for good. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

An easy smile formed on her lips. A smile that was like a slice of sun breaking through on a cloudy day. “I think so.”

He fanned her hands open and kissed the inside of her palms, one and then the other. Then he circled her waist with his hands and rocked her toward him. She leaned in, lowered her face to his and shut her eyes. She rested her hands on his knees.

The breath caught in his throat and blood surged through his veins. For the past couple of days he’d imagined their first kiss. It seemed like such a long time coming—because he felt he’d known her all his life. The moment had finally arrived. The time was now. Every nerve in his body quaked with anticipation. He tipped her chin up and their mouths drew near.

Before their lips touched, a horn blared and a car materialized in the drive. Beth leapt away as if she’d been burned. Scott felt the air deflate from his lungs. His heart was about to explode.