The Cowboy Says I Do

by Dylann Crush

  “Who?” Bodie asked.

  “I was thinking of asking Zina.” Lacey picked at a ragged cuticle. “Are you planning on having anyone stand up next to you?”

  “I hadn’t really thought about it.”

  “Well, now’s the time. You’ll need a best man, won’t you?”

  “Just a best man or will you have groomsmen, too?” Suzy nibbled on the end of her pen. “And ushers? I suppose I didn’t ask about all of the details. Where’s the ceremony going to be?”

  “Inside the house,” Bodie said.

  At the same time Lacey blurted, “Outside on the lawn.”

  “Oh, an outdoor wedding?” Suzy looked back and forth between them. “May can be a fairly unpredictable month for weather.”

  “I don’t think everyone will fit inside for the ceremony.” Lacey fluttered her lashes at Bodie. “Don’t you think we should have the reception inside and keep the ceremony outdoors?”

  “How many people will you be inviting?” Suzy’s pen poised over the paper.

  “Yes, just how many guests do you think we’ll have?” Bodie leaned toward her. “How many people need to witness this production?”

  Lacey cleared her throat. “It’s going to be on the small side. But we will have coverage from the Texas Times. That’s a magazine and they’re doing a big spread about the wedding and the preparations.”

  “Oh, I do love being featured in magazines. I’ll make sure I put some extra Suzy magic into your flowers.” She leaned over and patted Bodie’s knee. “You know I was a centerfold once.”

  Bodie glanced to Lacey with a where in the hell did you dig this woman up? look on his face.

  “Really?” Lacey asked. “That must have been quite a moment.”

  “It was. My dad was so proud when I showed him. He took that issue to work and passed it around the lunchroom for a week. I still get a chuckle when I think about that.”

  Bodie coughed, covering his mouth up with his fist.

  “I think I have a copy of it with me.” Suzy rummaged through her pile. “Oh, here it is.”

  Lacey closed her eyes. This was too much. She’d put all of her hope into the people of Ido and they just couldn’t hack it. Maybe they weren’t ready for the event center. She’d forced it on them when all they wanted was to go about their business, stuff woodchucks, and pose for whatever magazine centerfolds that moved them.

  “Suzy, I—”

  “This is really something,” Bodie said.

  A pang of something akin to jealousy—if she’d been the jealous type—sliced through her chest. Lacey opened her eyes to find Bodie holding a copy of Taxidermist Today.

  “Check it out.” He flipped the magazine so she could see the centerfold—a picture of Suzy surrounded by stuffed woodland creatures.

  “Wow.” A gurgle rose in her throat. Hopefully Suzy would keep her animal friends away from the wedding setup.

  “So did you decide on ushers? Are we sticking with a maid of honor and no best man?” Suzy drummed her fingertips on the barrel of the pen.

  “Can we get back to you on that?” Lacey asked. She and Bodie had to hash out the details if they wanted to present a united front to the other vendors.

  “Absolutely. Just let me know when you’ve made up your mind. I usually have Tuesday and Thursday mornings off. Sometimes a Friday, too.” She gathered her papers. “Y’all can go ahead and keep the wreath if you want.”

  Bodie put his hand to his forehead and leaned onto his elbow like he was trying not to laugh.

  “That’s very generous of you, but are you sure you don’t need it for a . . .” For a what? A client? How would one refer to a dead person in this particular situation?

  “Nope, this one was a loaner. It’s been around enough that people are starting to recognize it. I need to make up a new one.”

  “What do you mean ‘it’s been around’?” Bodie asked.

  She stood, closing her notebook and hiking her purse strap onto her shoulder. “I mean I loan it out for wakes and funerals. Half the town has seen this one though. Time for something fresh and new.”

  “Thank you.” Lacey stood. The sooner she could get Suzy out of here, the less likely it would be that Bodie would insult the only florist available. “We’ll be in touch.”

  “Congratulations on your engagement. I sure can’t wait to tell my sister. She’ll get a kick out of—”

  “Remember, it’s a secret.” Lacey put her pointer finger to her lip. “Shh, okay?”

  Suzy smiled, nodded, and winked before she disappeared through the front doors.

  “How long until she spills the beans?” Bodie asked.

  At that moment both of their cell phones rang. “Not long.”

  thirty-five

  Bodie took a long draw on his beer. He’d called in sick to work today to hide out in the relative privacy of his own living room. After Suzy left the funeral home yesterday, his phone had continued to ring until he’d finally silenced it by turning the damn thing off. How was he to know that agreeing to the wedding charade with Lacey would mean instant notoriety?

  A knock sounded at his door. Suspect of everyone and everything, he tiptoed to the door to peer through the peephole. Lacey stood on the stoop, the giant orange wreath in hand.

  “I’m not home.”

  “Hurry up, someone’s pulling up to the curb and I don’t recognize them.” Lacey tried the knob.

  Bodie peeked again. Sure enough, a white van had stopped at the curb. The driver got out and opened the side door. “It’s probably someone delivering a package to a neighbor. I need an evening off of wedding planning.”

  “He’s coming this way,” she hissed at the door.

  “Fine.” He fumbled with the lock, opening the door to Lacey and the giant orange wreath as the man reached the stoop.

  “Bodie Phillips?” the driver asked.

  “Who wants to know?” He tipped his beer up and downed another sip.

  The guy launched into song. “Congratulations to you! Congratulations to you! Congratulations, Bodie and Lacey! Congratulations to you!”

  “That’s it?” Bodie cocked a hip. What kind of stunt was that?

  “And a cookie couplet for the happy couple.” The guy produced a cookie in the shape of a heart. Red frosting across the center read Congrats on your engagement! Mayor Little.

  Dammit. Buck was mocking him.

  “Why would Mayor Little send us a singing telegram?” Lacey asked.

  “I’m sorry, it’s not a telegram, it’s a sing-a-gram,” the man corrected. He didn’t move from the stoop.

  Bodie grabbed the cookie and shut the door.

  “Didn’t you tip him?” Lacey asked.

  “For what?” Bodie shook his head. “I’ve owned dogs who could sing better than that.” To prove his point, Shotgun sat down, her tail wagging like a broom, and let out a half howl. “See?”

  “Why aren’t you answering my calls?” Lacey barreled into the room, toting the ugly orange wreath with her.

  “Do you have to bring that here?” He eyed the monstrosity. It was like a giant jack-o’-lantern but seven months too early.

  “Why didn’t you answer my question?” She set the easel in the corner of his living room, blocking his view of the classic football game he’d been watching.

  “What was the question again?” He smirked. At least he still enjoyed giving her shit, even though he couldn’t leave his house without being assaulted by well-wishers.

  Lacey snagged the beer bottle out of his grip. Didn’t matter, it was almost empty anyway. “What’s going on with you? You said you were all in on this and you’re practically ghosting me.”

  He padded to the kitchen on bare feet to grab another beer from the fridge. Based on how the conversation was going, he might need two. He pulled out another and popped th
e top.

  “Bodie?” She’d followed him into the kitchen and stood next to the counter, her hip cocked, arms crossed over her chest.

  He handed her the beer he’d just opened and popped the top off the other. “I didn’t realize what a splash news of our engagement would make.” He made air quotes around the word engagement.

  “I told my dad.” Lacey took a deep swallow from the bottle.

  Bodie’s heart stalled. “You told him the truth?”

  She shook her head. “No. You know what a big mouth he has when he drinks, even if he is housebound. I figured it would be best to string him along like everyone else until the wedding. If word got out that this wasn’t for real we’d probably lose the publicity, don’t you think?”

  No, he didn’t think. He hadn’t thought this through at all. Playing along with Lacey’s idea to secure publicity seemed like a no-brainer at the time. But now that he was living through the repercussions, he’d begun to regret being so flippant about it in the first place.

  “Everyone seems really excited for us.” Her lips curved up in a smile.

  “That’s fantastic.” He wanted to kick himself in the nuts for the way the bitterness in his tone caused her mouth to turn down until that smile had morphed into an unsure frown.

  “I talked to Helmut today. He said he’ll do the catering.” She set her bottle down on the edge of the table.

  “Banzai Shakes for everyone,” he joked.

  “You know, he hasn’t been slinging burgers his whole life. He used to be a real chef up in Seattle once upon a time.”

  Bodie knew he was being an asshole. And he really didn’t intend to be. It was just, all this hubbub with Lacey on top of the threats from Buck, it had been rolling around like a tumbleweed in west Texas, gathering momentum, picking up dirt and dust and getting bigger and bigger. “I’m sure the food will be terrific. Thanks for handling everything.” He tipped his beer in her direction then headed back to the living room.

  “Bodie . . .” She trailed behind him, reminding him of yesteryear, of times he’d walk away from her just like that and she’d follow behind. Even then she hadn’t given up on him.

  “What do you want?” He whirled around, almost knocking her off her feet.

  Her hands wrapped around his biceps to steady herself. Taking in a long, slow breath, he raised his gaze to meet hers.

  She worried her lower lip with her teeth, her fingers tightening around his arms. “I know you didn’t want to pretend. I’m sorry for asking you to lie about it.” Her words came out soft, almost a whisper.

  Dammit. How could he tell her how right she was? He didn’t want to pretend. But it didn’t piss him off, it scared the shit out of him. He didn’t want to pretend anymore because the feelings he’d been faking had become all too real. What was he going to do when the fake minister pronounced them husband and wife and he had to lean down and kiss her?

  “Don’t you dare apologize. I went into this with my eyes wide open. I just wasn’t expecting so many people to be so interested in us.”

  The radio switched from a commercial to a slow song, one of his favorite classic country tunes. Lacey took the beer bottle from his hand and set it down on the coffee table. “May as well start practicing our first dance. Will you dance with me?”

  His throat seemed to close, making it difficult to take in a full breath. “I’m not a very good dancer.”

  “It’s okay, neither am I.” She nestled herself against his chest, putting one hand on his shoulder. “Just take my hand and I’ll follow your lead.”

  Against his better judgment, he slid his hand into hers and pulled her into his arms. She stepped forward, burrowing even closer into him. The scent of butterscotch surrounded him, even though he hadn’t seen her eat a butterscotch candy in years. She had to be able to feel his heart—it seemed like it was going to beat its way right out of his chest. If Lacey noticed his strange behavior, she didn’t say anything about it. After an awkward start, he caught on to the rhythm of the song and guided her around his small living room in a halfway decent dance.

  “You’re not so bad,” she said as he twirled her away from him. “Lots of practice?”

  He shook his head. “Nah. Just a natural, I guess.”

  “What’s that like?” She batted long, dark eyelashes at him, her eyes twinkling.

  “What?”

  “To be a natural at something? Seems I have to fight tooth and nail to figure things out. Just once I wish something would come natural to me.”

  He drew her tight against his chest, wrapping both arms around her. “Hell, Lacey, I’d say you’ve got a lot of natural talent.”

  “Yeah, I’m a walking natural disaster.” She ducked her head, a self-deprecating smile on her lips.

  “Stop.” His tone came out sharper than he intended, making her look up. “You’ve got more natural talent in your pinky finger than I do in my entire body.”

  Her gaze raked over him. His blood heated, sending warmth coursing through his veins. “Is that so? Why do people always bring up the pinky finger?”

  “Fine. How about I say you’ve got more natural talent in your big toe?”

  “My big toe?” Her forehead creased. “I didn’t think you were a foot man.”

  He wasn’t. Or at least he never had been before. But with Lacey he was an everything man—from her toes to the tips of her hair, and everything in between.

  “Feet are underrated,” he joked. Especially Lacey’s feet. He loved how she kept her toenails painted, usually a bright shade of pink. He’d never been particularly drawn to feet before, but he could imagine himself doing all kinds of things to Lacey’s toes.

  “Don’t tell me you’ve developed a foot fetish.” She rested her cheek against his chest as one song led into another.

  “No.” He didn’t have a foot fetish. He had a Lacey Cherish fetish and that was ten million times worse. What was he going to do when it was all over? When she didn’t have a reason to come knocking on his door on a Tuesday night? When she moved on to dance with some stranger in another living room? His gut clenched at the idea of Lacey wrapped up in someone else’s arms.

  He was being ridiculous, he knew that. And why couldn’t they have a shot at a real future? There was nothing holding them back. They were both adults, both consenting, contributing members of society.

  He’d almost convinced himself it would be no big deal to dip his head down and claim her mouth with his. They’d acted on desire before and in his own humble opinion, neither were the worse because of it.

  “Hey, Lacey?”

  “Mmm?” She lifted her head from his chest. The imprint of his button pressed into her cheek, reminding him of the time he and Luke had dared her she couldn’t stay up and watch the entire Star Wars saga with them. She’d fallen asleep with her cheek on the zipper of her sleeping bag. Luke teased her about it for days.

  “Nothing.” Reality check. Luke. Luke was the reason he couldn’t jump into a fling with Lacey. That and he didn’t want to put her in any danger. Once his dad and pops were out from under the threat they’d been fighting, once he had a chance to run this by Luke, once he knew for sure he wouldn’t lose his heart in the process—then he’d give in and see where this might go.

  Until then, he needed to keep his head in the game and his heart completely out of it.

  thirty-six

  “You want how much?” Lacey squinted at Helmut from across the counter.

  He flipped another burger patty with one hand while he juggled the fries in the deep fryer with another. “Two thousand bucks. It’s a family recipe.”

  “That’s ridiculous. Our entire wedding budget is only five thousand dollars. I can’t afford to spend forty percent of that on the cake.”

  “It’s good cake.” Helmut plated a Banzai Burger Special while she performed math acrobatics in her head.r />
  “I don’t care how good the cake is, I don’t have an extra two grand. Now, will you make the cake or do I need to work with someone else?”

  Helmut wiped his hands on his apron before settling his meaty paws on his hips. “Who else will you find to make you a cake?”

  Lacey matched his stance. She’d had just about enough of the local vendors trying to rake her over the coals and price-gouge her. Didn’t they know she was doing this for their own good? “I’ll check with my good friend, Betty Crocker.”

  He smirked as he waved her off. “Good luck.”

  “I’ll make you a cake.” Jojo stopped at the counter to clip an order ticket on the spinning rack. “What’s the occasion?”

  Lacey inhaled a deep breath through her nose. The smell of fried onions assaulted her. “It’s a wedding.”

  “Oh, I love weddings.” Jojo clapped her hands together. “Anyone I know?”

  Enthusiasm. Lacey could work with enthusiasm. “It’s actually, well, it’s me.”

  “What?” Jojo grabbed Lacey’s hands in hers and squeezed. Then she flipped Lacey’s left hand over. “Where’s the ring? Who’s the groom? When’s the date?”

  “You ask too many questions.” Helmut set two burger plates in the serving window and chimed the bell. “Order up.”

  “I’ll fill you in later,” Lacey promised. “But really, you can make a cake?”

  “I did one for my cousin’s best friend’s grandma’s birthday a few years ago. Ain’t nothin’ but a little baking. And you know how much I love baking.”

  “Yeah, we all know.” Helmut waved them off. “Food’s getting cold.”

  “Later,” Lacey said. Then she grabbed the two Burger Banzai platters and delivered them to the couple she didn’t recognize sitting at table four.

  Jojo hunted her down after the lunch rush. “So about this cake. How many people does it need to feed?”

  Lacey had just sat down in a back booth to work her way through her club salad. It was a lot more lettuce and a lot less of “club” anything but she’d always been grateful for the free meals Helmut offered, especially when she was a starving college student home on break. Of course, now she was a starving mayor who had the future of an entire town resting on her shoulders. It might take more than a club salad to fuel her efforts.