Page 38 of Cowboys at Coconuts

Hay bales were stacked several bundles high and deep. The straw bundles were arranged in an enormous rectangle. A massive blue plastic tarp was spread across the middle and draped over the hay bales with plenty of rope securing it. Three long garden hoses continually squirted water into the makeshift pool, which was nearly filled to the brim. Cheri’s hand flew over her mouth. “That’s hilarious.”

Winking, Cole said, “I’m guessin’ this is your first hillbilly swimming pool.”

“You’d be correct. I already love it.” Glancing at the colorful paper lanterns hanging from a nearby clothesline, Cheri fished her cell out of her tote bag. Angling the phone to take several photos, she said, “I’ve got to show this pool to my girlfriends. They’ll never believe it.”

Reaching for her hand, Cole led her toward the rowdy group, already splashing in the ice-cold water, most with beers in hand. Cupping his mouth with one hand he yelled, “Hey, everybody. Give a warm howdy to Miss Cheri.”

She heard more whoops as someone said, “Howdy, Miss Cheri.” Another person yelled, “Grab a beer and jump in.”

She spotted a galvanized silver tub overflowing with ice, Budweiser, Coors, and Heineken.

Cole followed her stare. “Want me to get the wine out of the truck?”

Tugging on Cole’s arm, she said, “No, I’ll drink beer. I want to fit—” She paused. “The wine will wait.”

“But you prefer wine. They only have beer.”

A stocky, shirtless man wearing overalls lumbered over. “On the contrary, Cole. You, sir, are mistaken. We do have wine. My dandelion wine is the best thing to ever touch your lips.” He eyed Cheri. “Well, almost the best thing.”

“Dandelion wine?” Cheri grinned. “I bet that has a cute label.”

“No label, ma’am.” Lifting his straw cowboy hat, the man promptly placed it back on his prematurely balding head. “It’s moonshine. Best in these here parts if I say so myself.”

Cheri peered at Cole. “Isn’t moonshine illegal?”

“Not illegal to make it but against the law to sell it,” Cole said.

Moonshine Man filled a small plastic cup for her. “Try it.”

Taking a small sip, she puckered. “Wow. That’s strong.”

The man laughed. “And?”

Cheri lied. “It’s good. Thanks.”

After the man left, , Cole turned to her. “You can toss it behind a shrub. I’ve had his moonshine before. That stuff tastes like crap.”

She laughed so hard she snorted. “I like you more every day.”

“Ditto. Do you have a swimsuit underneath your clothes?”

She patted her tote. “I have a black bikini.”

Cole snapped his fingers. “Just my luck. I was hoping you’d have to go in wearing your clothes—or naked.”

Cheri’s eyes bulged as Cole unbuttoned his plaid shirt and threw it across a bush covered with blue Hydrangeas. “Is that what you’re doing?”

She couldn’t take her eyes off his chiseled abs and toned arms. “Um, I can’t exactly fling my shirt across a bush.”

“We’re all friends here,” he teased.

“Not gonna happen.”

Slowly unzipping his tight, faded jeans, Cole stepped out of them and let them fall onto the grass.

Cheri pretended to shade her eyes but peeked between her fingers. He sported red, white, and blue patriotic swim trunks. Playfully punching him, she said, “You’re a nut.”

Cole grabbed her hand. “Last one in is a—”

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