The Cowboy Says I Do

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The Cowboy Says I Do Page 12

by Dylann Crush


  Dammit, was she crying?

  “Hey.” He let go of her hand and wrapped an arm around her shoulder instead. Pulling her close, he nestled her against his chest in an awkward, side-by-side hug. “It’s okay. Shotgun’s going to be fine.”

  It was over almost as soon as it started. She sat up, sniffled, wiped the back of her hand across her cheek, and cleared her throat. “We never got another pet because . . .”

  He waited for her to finish the thought. The way she was with Shotgun, hell, the way she was with people, he couldn’t understand how she’d never owned a cat or dog. Lacey was a fixer. She took care of people. He’d seen her go out of her way to help anyone in need. It didn’t make sense that she’d never turned that toward a pet. “Because why?”

  “Because pets die.” She looked up at him again. “They leave you and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

  Bodie thought about his own childhood pets: the coonhound who had a horrible sense of smell, the barn cat who was afraid of flies, and the various other small critters he’d kept. “You’re right. They don’t always live as long as we’d like. But when they’re around, it’s worth it, isn’t it?”

  She stood. “I don’t know. Sometimes I think it’s better not to even put forth the effort if I’m only going to have my heart broken in the end.”

  The harsh fluorescent overhead light cast half her face in shadow. “Lacey . . .”

  “I’m going to wait outside.”

  He made a move to stand, wanting nothing more than to hug her tight until all of her fear seeped out of her. That wasn’t a way to live—constantly fearing the loss of someone you loved.

  “Can I just have a few minutes by myself?”

  “Sure.” He sat back down, watching her disappear through the sliding glass doors, wishing he could do something to ease her heartache, and wondering how he’d manage his own if he suddenly found himself to blame for causing Lacey any pain.

  twenty

  Lacey grabbed the hanger and pulled another dress out of her closet. She’d been trying to pack for the last hour but couldn’t find a single thing that screamed reluctant wedding dress shopper. It was pointless. Adeline wouldn’t care what she had on as long as it wasn’t flashier, prettier, or sexier than what the bride-to-be would be wearing. She’d said as much in the text she’d sent.

  Even though nothing would make her happier than to call the whole thing off, Lacey had to see the weekend through. After the fiasco with Shotgun the other night, she’d been tempted to cancel. But then Bodie called and said the dog would be fine. Thank goodness. She’d all but forgotten what it was like to put her heart on the line. Almost having it crushed was a good reminder. She’d keep hers right where it belonged—safe and sound tucked behind her uncompromising set of rules. Rule number one: don’t risk your heart.

  She envied Bodie sometimes. He’d never lost anyone or anything close to him. Lucky for him he’d never had to go through the gut-wrenching heartbreak that followed. Although, if his suspicions were right and his dad and grandfather were involved in some unsavory business practices, he might have to be the one to bring them down. That would put a serious damper on family get-togethers. What would that do to him?

  Shrugging the dress on over her head, she thought about the way Bodie had pulled her into him. The way she burrowed into his chest. The way she’d felt protected, safe, secure in his arms. He’d always made her feel that way. When her mom died it wasn’t her dad who comforted her. It wasn’t her brother, either. It was Bodie. She shivered as she remembered. With both her and Bodie being back in town, memories were bound to surface. She’d just have to find a way to hold them at bay. Wouldn’t do any good to get attached.

  She turned to face herself in the mirror. Adeline had said to bring her favorite LBD. Lacey had to Google the term to see what it meant. At least she had one, even if it probably didn’t bend to the convention of current fashion styles. It was a little low across the bust and hugged her ass a tad too tightly. But there was no way she’d head to Dallas without the required LBD, so it would have to do.

  By the time she’d changed back into her jeans, stuffed her makeup in a case, and zipped up her bag, someone knocked on the front door.

  “I’ll get it, Dad.” She didn’t want Adeline getting an eyeful of her dad serving his house arrest. Rumors were already bad enough without adding Adeline’s brand of fuel onto the fire.

  A man in a dark suit stood at the door. “Lacey Cherish?”

  “Yes.” She peered past him to see the stretch limo parked at the curb.

  Adeline popped up through the sunroof, a tiara on her head, waving a bottle of champagne. “The girls surprised me with a bachelorette weekend. We’ll shop for dresses by day and party at night! Isn’t that perfect?”

  Perfect? A perfect disaster. Lacey had been dreading the shopping enough. But now she’d be expected to paste on a smile while Adeline waded through miles of tulle and lace and also hold it together for two nights of hard-core partying? Her temple pulsed with the promise of an oncoming headache.

  “Can I take your bag, ma’am?” The driver reached for her suitcase.

  Ma’am? Did he just call her ma’am? “Sure, go ahead.”

  He reached behind her and grabbed her overnight bag.

  “I’ll be back on Sunday,” she called into the house. No telling where her dad was, but she was grateful he wasn’t there to witness her departure.

  As she walked toward the limo, music began to pour through the open windows. The bass thumped so loud she could feel it in her chest. The driver opened the door and Lacey climbed in. She squat-walked to the front since every other seat had been claimed.

  Adeline ducked back through the window and grabbed Lacey in an awkward hug. “I’m so glad you could come. We’re going to have a blast.”

  Lacey nodded, smiling at the other women as she untangled herself from Adeline’s grasp. She hadn’t quite gotten used to the idea of them trying to be actual friends.

  “Everyone, this is Lacey. And Lacey, this is everyone.” Adeline swept her arm wide, knocking over the bottle of champagne she’d set down on the floor. “Ooops.”

  Great, just great. If the rocky start was any indication of how the weekend might go, Lacey was screwed. She didn’t have time or patience to babysit a bunch of bachelorettes in the big city. While Adeline’s gal pals cleaned up the spill, the driver pulled away from the curb. One of the other women handed Lacey a glass of bubbly, and she accepted. Why not join in the festivities? It was already—she checked her watch—nine thirty in the morning. Had to be after five o’clock somewhere. Wherever it was, Lacey wished with all her might she’d be magically transported there. Far away from bridezilla and her minions.

  * * *

  * * *

  No such luck. The drive to Dallas passed by in a hazy blend of loud music, popping champagne corks, and drinking games. By the time they stopped in front of the first bridal shop on the itinerary, Lacey was so ready to stretch her legs she bounded past the other women to be the first one out of the limo.

  Stumbling to the sidewalk, she inhaled a breath of fresh air. Her headache had worsened but she’d managed to hold a full-blown migraine at bay with a front line of ibuprofen. As she stood and faced the entrance to Bride World, she worried she’d need to bring in backup pain-med resources if she wanted to win the battle. Tall double doors stood in front of her, the only barrier between her and an afternoon of hell.

  “Let’s go, girls.” Adeline had pulled herself together and projected the perfect blend of calm, cool, and collected.

  Lacey filed into line behind two of the bridesmaids. These must be Adeline’s friends from college or her sorority sisters. She didn’t recognize a single one. They all seemed to be clones of their leader.

  A saleswoman met them at the door, although she insisted on calling herself a bridal style concierge. She ushered
Adeline’s posse into a large private dressing room where a tray of champagne glasses sat on a low coffee table. Lacey perched on the edge of a chair. She’d prefer to slump against the cushions on one of the love seats but if she had, she might not ever get up. The combination of headache threat and defeat had her ready to throw in the towel.

  “So how do you know the bride?” One of the other women took the chair next to Lacey and reached for a glass.

  “Um, she’s having her wedding at the Phillips House.” Lacey summoned a smile, hoping it looked better than it felt.

  “You’re the wedding planner. She’s told us all about you.” The woman thrust her hand toward Lacey. “I’m Celeste, one of her bridesmaids. She’s so excited about having her wedding at your new place.”

  “We’re so excited she’s chosen to be the first.” Lacey reached for a glass of champagne. She might need it.

  The bridal style concierge clapped her hands together, drawing everyone’s attention. “Ladies, let me present, dress one. It’s a delectable confection of layered netting. This is truly the princess look.”

  Adeline stepped out of the dressing room, her torso sticking up from the center of a massive ring of netting. If she chose that dress Roman wouldn’t be able to get within five feet of her. The posse mobilized, surrounding her with shrieks. Lacey took the opportunity to nab a few of the chocolates sitting on a silver tray as the chatter erupted.

  Several hours and ten thousand dresses later, Adeline led the way back to the limo. She’d narrowed down some options but had yet to declare she’d found the one. Thank goodness the rest of their appointments were the next day. Lacey wasn’t sure she could stomach another bridal store.

  “Now’s where we take over,” Celeste announced. She distributed T-shirts to the women, who had no reservations about pulling their shirts off over their heads, even there in the back of the limo. “They’re scratch and lick. Everyone has a different flavor.”

  Lacey glanced at the shirt she’d been given. A grid of what looked like circular stickers covered the front of the shirt. “Lick me?” she asked, her eyebrows shooting sky-high.

  “They’re for doing virtual tequila shots. Everyone has either a salt- or tequila-flavored shirt. Adeline has the lime-flavored one so she’ll be at the tail end of everyone’s shot. Make sense?”

  No more sense than anything else they’d done so far today. “Yeah, great.” Lacey tossed her shirt over her shoulder. No way was she subjecting herself to a myriad of unknown tongues, not even in the name of ensuring the wedding went off without a hitch.

  “You’ve got to put your shirt on.” Celeste nudged her chin toward Lacey. “Tell her, Adeline. It’s no fun if we don’t all do it.”

  Twelve pairs of eyes lasered in on Lacey’s chest. “Fine. But the first guy who comes at me is going to get more than a taste of salt.”

  Adeline crossed her arms over her chest. “Come on, Lacey. You have to play. Have another glass of champagne.”

  The last thing she wanted was another glass of champagne. But to get Adeline off her back she pulled the T-shirt on over her head. “Happy?”

  “Yes. Where to next, ladies?” Adeline relaxed back into the plush seat.

  “We’ve got a big surprise, you’ll just have to wait and see.” Celeste pulled out her phone and began snapping pictures. “What’s your Insta, Lacey?”

  “Oh, no tagging me, thanks. Political figure and all. Wouldn’t be a good idea.” She unscrewed the cap from a bottle of water. Looked like someone was going to need to stay sober for the evening ahead. Might as well be her.

  Celeste shrugged as she typed into her phone.

  Fifteen minutes later the limo stopped. Lacey peered through the tinted window at an ornate set of doors. Sushi Tango. Great, now she had double the reason for making sure no one got out of hand. The combination of raw fish and too much to drink wouldn’t end well.

  “Bring on the sake.” Celeste led the way into the restaurant and Lacey had no choice but to follow. For a moment she wished she’d stayed behind. Filling in armadillo holes, as horrible as that might be, would be ten times more bearable than subjecting herself to the rest of Adeline’s party weekend. What was Bodie doing? Were he and Shotgun curled up on the couch taking it easy?

  Thinking of the poor pup made her heart clench. Thinking of Bodie made other parts of her anatomy clench. Getting close to Bodie would mean nothing but trouble. First off, his family. She’d sworn an oath to work for the citizens of Ido. That meant she couldn’t be caught colluding with folks who put themselves above the law. Second, her emotional-avoidance issues. Opening up her heart and letting someone in would result only in getting hurt. She’d learned that lesson over and over.

  As she followed the line of women snaking through the restaurant, she clamped down on that thought. She’d do what she needed to do to save the town and wipe the smudge from her family name. That’s all she’d signed up for. And that was more than anyone expected.

  twenty-one

  Bodie paced the small office he shared with the rest of the Sewell County Sheriff’s Department. His boss hadn’t been the source of info he’d hoped for when it came to moving forward on the investigation involving his family. Sheriff Suarez wanted to remove Bodie from the case altogether, citing he had a conflict of interest.

  “Even with me taking the lead, you still don’t have the manpower to do a thorough job on this.” Bodie stopped in front of the sheriff’s desk, his hands set on his hips. Heat raced through his veins. They couldn’t take this away from him. He couldn’t trust anyone else to do a good-enough job.

  “You’re not exactly a neutral party here. It’s time to step aside, Deputy Phillips. If I need to bring in additional resources, I will.” Sheriff Suarez signed the paper in front of him then set down his pen.

  Bodie nodded, taking in a breath through his nose. Wouldn’t do him any good to lose his cool now. Not when the future of his involvement with this case depended on it. “You think I’d put my family first?”

  Sheriff Suarez set his lips in a line and shrugged. “Happens to the best of us.”

  “You know I wouldn’t work that way.” Bodie leaned over the desk, placing his palms flat. Maybe he had in the past. If there was a way to get his family out of this without them getting into serious trouble, he’d do his best. But that line he shouldn’t cross seemed to have a little wiggle room in it.

  “You trying to intimidate me, son?” Sheriff Suarez had been in office longer than anyone before him. He was a fixture in town. Almost as ingrained as the Phillips family.

  “No, sir. Just trying to convince you that you can trust me to do my job, to uphold my oath, and to not put personal relationships before the law.” A muscle in his jaw began to tick.

  “No one’s accusing you of that. Hell, I know you’re a trusted member of my team. But when push comes to shove . . .” Bushy eyebrows furrowed, making him look twice as stern.

  “There’s not going to be any pushing.” Bodie tapped the toe of his boot on the linoleum floor.

  “You’ve got your hands full enough with making sure our new mayor stays out of trouble. Keep your focus on that and I’ll take care of the rest.”

  Bodie groaned, careful to keep his mounting frustration from blowing his top. “If you won’t let me be in charge, at least let me help with the investigation.”

  “My hands are tied.” The sheriff stood and made his way to the hook on his wall. He grabbed his hat and turned toward the door. “Now, I’ve got a meeting with some supporters, so if you’ll excuse me.”

  “Yes, sir.” Bodie followed him through the door and out into the parking lot. The sheriff might be able to keep him from officially working the case, but he couldn’t stop him from having a conversation with family. All of a sudden Mayor Little’s offer seemed somewhat appealing. For the first time in his career, the first time in his life, Bodie considered cros
sing that line instead of just nudging it farther away. If he got elected sheriff of Sewell County, he’d be able to dethrone Sheriff Suarez and take care of his family. Did the ends justify the means? In this case, he wasn’t sure.

  If only Luke were around. He knew Bodie’s heart better than anyone. He’d always been a safe sounding board in times of doubt. But his friend was off on some top secret mission and not even available by e-mail for the next couple of weeks. At least Shotgun was going to be okay. That seemed to be the only bright spot he had going for him at the moment.

  Twenty minutes later Bodie pulled his truck to a stop in front of his dad’s office. Pops sat outside, whittling something with his ancient pocketknife.

  Bodie settled into the rocking chair next to him. “Getting some fresh air?”

  Pops didn’t answer right away. He was a man of few words and even fewer emotions. “Smells like rain.”

  Nodding, Bodie took a better look at the piece of wood in his grandfather’s hands. “What are you working on?”

  Pops paused, holding the figurine up for Bodie to take a closer look. The head of a beaver had started to take shape from the hunk of wood. Long buckteeth hung out of a smiling mouth. Nice. That left no doubt in his mind that Pops and Dad were up to their armpits in the illegal import business.

  “Is Dad around?” Bodie asked.

  Pops jerked his head to the side. “Yeah. He’s hiding out. Doesn’t want anyone to see the shiner he’s sporting.”

  Just thinking about confronting his family made Bodie’s palms sweat. He rubbed them against his jeans, trying to shake off the nervousness. “I need a word with the two of you.”

  “Oh yeah?” Pops growled. “About what?”

  Bodie turned a pointed look to the beaver. “I believe I figured out why you and Dad wanted those figurines back.”

  Pops nodded, a slight movement. “We should talk.”

  “That’s what I figured.”

 

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