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.