Sunday Session, with love

Wynona took another sip of her drink. Mary Chapin Carpenter was playing on the jukebox. She was new to the country scene but Wynona knew she’d hit big one day. She was singing a song for Wynona and Mac, What You Didn’t Say. The lyrics were written just for them, especially the line about not what you said, what you didn’t say. It was a sign. That’s it. She had to go back. She had to touch him, feel him, and show him that she was the one for him. She’d send him a letter first, just a casual Hello, how ya going? Wynona was going to Australia to get her cowboy. Then bring him back home, hand in hand and side by side, to ranch together and live happily ever after.

…

Mac was in turmoil. Rhiannon was coming home for the Bollon B&S, and so was Wynona. And it was only one day away. He’d managed to shield Rhiannon completely from his relationship with Wynona. He now regretted not being more honest after he and Rhiannon got back together. A few times he’d come close to telling her, because he hated hiding anything, but the words always got stuck.

He knew he had to tell her. Tonight was his last chance. Because when he had to introduce them at the B&S, he knew Rhiannon would know. She would sense it. She would see it.

Everyone north of the border knew Mac and Wynona had been a hot item. Their relationship had been hard and fast. It didn’t last long but it left a mark wherever they went. How could it not, when Wynona was one of the most beautiful women God put on this earth, and Mac her perfect accompaniment? They seemed to have an ideal relationship, working side by side on stations all around the southwest. They worked together and played together. Those who knew Rhiannon had broken Mac’s heart felt relieved for him. Happy he had found new love.

…

He was hip to hip with Rhiannon, beer in hand and deep in conversation with old friends from boarding school. The chattering crowd quietened. The change in noise level was what got Mac’s attention.

He looked up and his breath drew in, then stopped, his heart a giant flutter. He’d forgotten how stunning she was. It was like she was from another world. And she was. She should be on the cover of a magazine.

He squeezed Rhiannon’s hand tight. She winced as the blood stopped flowing to her fingers, and her eyes followed his. She felt ill. Sick to the stomach.

Wynona was dressed in a beige silk décolleté singlet that draped low to her small perfectly rounded breasts, but not so low that it was tacky. Her blemish free tanned skin was the perfect complement. Not a freckle in sight. She had teamed her top with fitted black silk pants. Perfectly pressed pleats fell neatly  at the front, following her slender legs forever.

She was one of the tallest women Rhiannon had ever seen. She knew without seeing that the fabric hugged Wynona’s perfectly toned arse cheeks at the back, and that from every angle she was perfect. Dammit.

But it wasn’t just her body. It was her perfectly proportioned facial features. Her glorious dark hair was piled high on her head, with escaping tendrils falling delicately around her face. It was like an artist had created her.

Her nose was tiny. Her teeth were pearly white, and amazingly straight. Her large dark brown eyes, so dark they were almost black, were stunning. Sparkling as well. And her mouth. Not big and wide and overly smiling like Rhiannon felt hers was. It was also in perfect proportion. Dazzling. She looked a bit like Elle Macpherson, but with darker hair and bigger eyes.

Rhiannon’s face flushed as Wynona strode purposefully towards Mac, her feelings for him written all over her face. Wynona didn’t even notice Rhiannon standing by his side, with her gaze so intent upon Mac.