And Then You Dare (Crested Butte Cowboys Series Book 5)

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And Then You Dare (Crested Butte Cowboys Series Book 5) Page 18

by Heather A Buchman


  “And just so you know, I ain’t ever gonna say I’m sorry for kissin’ you. Even in the middle of a crowded restaurant.”

  Tristan looked around her. She hadn’t noticed the empty tables were all full, and there was a lunch crowd lined up waiting.

  “If you didn’t have a meeting, I’d sit here with you all afternoon, maybe stay for dinner too.”

  “We close at three,” said the waitress as she dropped their check on the table.

  “I’m so embarrassed.” Tristan covered her face with her hands.

  “If that’s all it takes to embarrass you darlin’, you’re in for quite an awakening.”

  Tristan didn’t doubt the truth of his words for a minute.

  ***

  “How’d the writing session go?” Bullet asked his dad.

  “So good that we’re getting together again tomorrow, and probably the day after too.”

  “That’s terrific, Dad.”

  “Mark Cochran is so damn funny. Ben and I spend as much time laughing as we do making music.”

  “I don’t really know him.” Bullet had only seen Mark and his wife, Paige, a couple times, and even then, he hadn’t been introduced to them.

  “That’ll change later tonight. I invited everyone to dinner.”

  Bullet looked around his kitchen, and wondered what his dad meant by “everyone.” More than six or seven people would overflow this room, and the dining room wasn’t much bigger. Did his dad give any thought to the size of the house Bullet was living in? It was about one-tenth of the size of his parents’ house in Los Angeles.

  “Not here dumbass.” His dad gave him a playful punch and smiled. “I reserved a restaurant in town.”

  “The whole restaurant?”

  “Well…yeah.”

  Bullet shook his head. He’d forgotten how his dad was. If he wanted it, he got it. Yep, Bullet hadn’t fallen far from the tree after all.

  “I want you to invite the girl Lyric has been telling us so much about.”

  “Tristan?”

  “Yeah, that’s the one. Lyric says she might become the newest member of our family.”

  Bullet almost choked on the drink of beer he’d just taken. Jesus. He knew better than to trust Lyric not to blurt that out in front of Tristan. Nope, he wouldn’t be inviting her tonight. If he did, it might be the last time she agreed to go anywhere with him.

  ***

  “You don’t have any choice. Most of your investors will be at dinner tonight, and we want you there.”

  Lyric made Tristan laugh. She was as bad as Liv, who told her Billy and Jace would be mad at her if she didn’t come to the partner dinner the last time she was in Crested Butte.

  “You don’t have to twist my arm, I’m happy to join you. I appreciate the invitation.”

  Tristan couldn’t be in a better mood. She and Bullet “made up” over breakfast, where they also “made out”.

  Not to mention, each of the women associated with Flying R Rough Stock invested more money in McCullough Cowgirl than she’d expected collectively. With their backing, the new line would be ready for a fall launch, which also meant a lot of press at the PBR finals in October, and NFR in December.

  Lyric volunteered to handle the media through press releases and scheduled interviews. Tristan had a lot of experience with media herself, but her attention would be better focused on the clothing. Bree’s sister, Blythe, worked for Lyric at RodeoChat, and volunteered to start promoting the line in international markets. Her first push would be in Australia, where she predicted it would explode.

  Liv had been right about Paige Cochran. Mark’s wife, and Bree and Blythe’s mother, was the real businessperson in the bunch. They had a meeting scheduled the next day to hammer out the new brand’s business plan.

  Wait until her daddy heard all this. She knew he’d be proud, and as long as she continued to design for Lost Cowboy, he’d be happy too.

  ***

  When Tristan walked into the restaurant with Liv Rice, Bullet was surprised, happy, and anxious. He was happy she was here, but Lyric had gone too far in suggesting to their parents that she’d soon be their newest family member.

  He walked over and pulled his sister aside. “Keep your comments about Tristan to a minimum tonight. You hear?”

  “Let go of me.” Lyric pulled her arm out of his grasp. “Don’t worry. How dumb do you think I am? It’s a prediction that I know won’t come true if Miss McCullough thinks she’s being rushed. She’s not like the other women you’ve been involved with Bullet. I hope you realize that.”

  Bullet wanted to make a joke about Lyric not already knowing what he thought, but now wasn’t the time for joking.

  “Of course I do. She’s a whole different caliber of woman.”

  “You’re good enough for her. I hope you realize that too.”

  Bullet wasn’t so sure, but he’d never completely win her over if he wasn’t confident in himself. He sensed that the only type of man Tristan would ever fall for would be self-assured.

  He walked over to the table where she and Liv were being seated.

  “What a pleasant surprise, it’s nice to see you here Tristan.”

  Her cheeks turned pink. “I hope I’m not intruding. Lyric invited me.”

  He took her hand. “Don’t be silly, of course you aren’t.” He turned to Liv. “You’ve met my parents, right?”

  Liv laughed. “Yes Bullet. Your father and my husband are quickly becoming good friends. I expect I’ll be seeing a lot of your parents.”

  “And me,” Paige pulled out the chair on the other side of Liv, and sat down. “Don’t forget about me.”

  “As if anyone could ever forget you,” smiled Liv.

  When she introduced Tristan to Paige, Liv explained that the two had been best friends since Renie and Blythe were in kindergarten together. Paige had been instrumental in getting Liv and Ben together. Although when Liv told the story, she’d said Paige had more to do with them actually staying together. Tristan couldn’t imagine a couple more suited to one another than Liv and Ben. She found it astonishing that there had been a time Liv questioned their relationship.

  “If you ladies don’t mind, I’m gonna whisk Tristan away to meet my family.”

  Liv and Paige were lost in conversation and didn’t appear to hear Bullet. Tristan put her jacket on the back of the chair in front of her, and was about to leave her bag on the seat.

  “Bring it,” Bullet pointed to the jacket.

  “Why?”

  “’Cause you’re sittin’ with me,” he grinned.

  “Whether I want to or not?” she teased.

  “Yep. I told you I get what I want.”

  “No, you didn’t. You told me you take what you want.”

  “Same difference.”

  Bullet introduced Tristan to his parents, who thankfully didn’t mention Lyric’s prediction about her joining their family. He saw his gram with Lyric, putting Grey in his high chair, and Pearl in a booster seat. He hoped Tristan wouldn’t mind sitting with his kids. As busy as he knew he’d be, he didn’t want to miss a night with them, or with her.

  “This is my Pearl,” Bullet said, walking over to his little girl whose face lit up when she saw her daddy. She held out her arms, and Bullet unfastened the clip keeping her in her seat. He picked her up and brought her closer to Tristan. When Grey saw what was going on, he raised his hands too. Lyric went to distract him, but Tristan, much to Bullet’s surprise, walked over to his little boy and took him out of the high chair.

  “How’s your noggin’?” Tristan rubbed her fingers over Grey’s head.

  Grey pouted a little, but then smiled at her. “Hurt,” he said clearly, followed by a sentence even Bullet couldn’t follow.

  “He said it’s okay,” said Pearl.

  Tristan smiled at his little girl. “He did? I’m so glad.”

  “Yeah, it’s okay,” Pearl said again.

  Tristan motioned to two empty seats at the table. “Can we si
t here?” she asked Bullet.

  He nodded and smiled, his heart too full to speak.

  ***

  1968

  There was something important Bill wanted to take care of before he and Dottie were married. He talked to his mama about it, but he hadn’t talked to Clancy yet, or Dottie.

  His mother assured him that Clancy would be honored by his request, after she also assured him his daddy would understand. “He’s been watchin’ from heaven, and he would approve,” she told him.

  Dottie’s eyes filled with tears when he told her his idea. “Oh Bill, you are just the finest man alive,” she’d said.

  He had a meeting the next day with a lawyer, and then tomorrow night, he’d asked Clancy to have dinner with him. Bill hoped he was doing the right thing, and Clancy would go along with his proposition.

  “Fancy,” Clancy said when Bill pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant.

  “Don’t worry, they serve beer,” Bill laughed. He knew Clancy really didn’t care whether they did or not.

  Bill gave his name to the hostess, and thought about the irony of it.

  “I have something I want to ask you,” Bill said after they’d ordered their dinner. “There are two things actually.”

  “Well, get on with it son,” Clancy smiled at him.

  “About that. You call me son a lot, and I want you to know how much it means to me when you do.” At first Clancy’s grin faded, but his smile returned as Bill finished his sentence.

  “Here’s the thing. My mama told me a story the other day. She confessed that she sent you out lookin’ for me that night that I was walkin’ on the side of the road.”

  “Yes, she did.”

  “She also told me that you didn’t have to partner up with your brother, or take me in, but you did it because you cared about our family.”

  Clancy was quiet, and his eyes clouded over. Bill knew the man well enough to ascertain he was doing his best to tap down his emotions.

  “Before Dottie and I get married, I want to ask your permission to change my name.”

  Clancy looked up, startled. Bill held up his hand.

  “Let me explain. About the same time Dottie and I get married, you’ll be marryin’ my mama. After you’re married, her legal name will be Jane Patterson.” Bill’s eyes filled with tears and it took him a minute to continue. “When Dottie and I marry, I’d like to be Mister and Missus William Flynn Patterson. And I hope you understand why.”

  Clancy put his hand over his eyes, but Bill caught a glimpse of the tears that filled them before he did.

  “You told me once that the thing you regretted most about never marryin’ was that you didn’t have any young-uns. Well, you raised a son Clancy. The man you see before you today had two men raise him. My daddy took care of the first half of my upbringing, and you’ve been responsible for the second half.”

  It took Clancy a minute to answer, but Bill understood why. He was feeling just as emotional.

  “I’d be honored,” he said solemnly. “I can’t tell you how much this means to me son.”

  “I have somethin’ else to ask you.”

  Clancy nodded and smiled. “You need to borrow some money?”

  Bill laughed too. “Nah, you’ve made sure I start my new life as a married man with a significant bank account.”

  “You earned every penny.” Bill could see the pride on Clancy’s face. “Now what’s the second thing? I’m stumped.”

  “I want you to be my best man.”

  “Only if you’ll be mine,” Clancy clamped Bill’s shoulder.

  “Of course, I’d be honored.”

  “We’re gonna have one hell of a bachelor party,” chuckled Clancy.

  “Not if Dottie and my mama get wind of it.”

  Chapter 17

  “Who’s that?” Lyric asked Bullet.

  “That there fella is Slade Weston,” he answered. “New hire, and soon to be my travelin’ companion.”

  “What’s he do?”

  “He’s a hand. Like me.”

  Tristan smiled. Bullet often referred to himself that way, but he hardly a “hand.” He was an integral part of the rough stock business. The partners were also convinced he was on the road to a bull riding championship. If not this year, next year for certain.

  “What else does he do? A man doesn’t get a body like his from ranchin’ alone.”

  Tristan looked over at the man they were discussing. He was a big guy. Taller than Bullet, who had to be at least six foot four. Slade had broad shoulders and a build that could be described as husky.

  “Bulldoggin’,” Bullet finally answered. “I hear he’s also a country singer of sorts.”

  “I knew it!” exclaimed Lyric. “You can’t have power like his and not do somethin’ with it. Damn that man is hot as a branding iron. I bet he can ride a woman even better than he can a horse.”

  Tristan laughed out loud and Bullet looked embarrassed. “She’s done this my whole life,” he explained. “Doesn’t care what she says or who hears it.”

  “Get over it,” Lyric looked between her and Bullet. “As if the two of you aren’t doin’ the nasty every chance you get.”

  It was Tristan’s turn to be embarrassed. And she hadn’t needed Bullet to explain Lyric’s lack of filter.

  “Jesus Lyric, people are always sayin’ how I’m so irresponsible. Your mouth is irresponsible. You can’t keep sayin’ everything you think whenever the hell you think it. Ever hear of keepin’ some of your thoughts to yourself?”

  Lyric was still studying the cowboy standing across the room. Tristan thought he looked just as uncomfortable as she felt. He’d be even more so if he could overhear what Lyric was saying.

  “I gotta meet him.” Lyric was out of her chair and halfway across the room. Heaven help him, thought Tristan.

  “Sorry about that.”

  “Lyric? Don’t be. It didn’t take me long to get used to her. I’d be disappointed if she didn’t say something embarrassing every time I see her.”

  “Yeah, you might think it’s funny now, but wait until you’re part of our family. You’ll get sick of her right quick.”

  Tristan was sure Bullet misspoke. And she couldn’t think of a single thing to say to change the subject. By the look on Bullet’s face, he couldn’t either.

  “I don’t know why I said that,” he shook his head. “Gettin’ a little bit ahead of myself.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “Is it?”

  Tristan hated the hopeful look on Bullet’s face. He’d been right, he was getting ahead of himself, and of her. She knew he hadn’t really meant it.

  “Tristan…” he leaned in close. She thought he’d kiss her, but he stopped short of doing so. “Do you know how damn much I want you to be a part of my life?”

  “Bullet,” Tristan scooted back, and put her hand on his. “We hardly know each other.”

  That was clearly the wrong thing to say. Bullet’s eyes grew dark and his nostrils flared. He pulled her chair back closer to him. “You’re wrong about that darlin’. We know each other very well. When I close my eyes there isn’t a single part of your body I can’t picture. I memorized the look you get on your face when you climax. I know every freckle on your nose.” He ran his finger over her collar bone, and then downward. “And the ones that are sprinkled here, and here.” His finger dipped inside her v-neck to touch the lacy edge of her bra.

  “There are other things I know about you too.” He leaned forward and put his lips against her temple. “I know how damn smart you are,” he kissed across her forehead. “And how creative.” Bullet put his fingers on her chin, and tilted her head up. He looked straight into her eyes. “I also know that you haven’t figured out how to let go, and let this thing happen between us. You don’t wanna care what other people think, but you can’t help yourself.”

  She opened her mouth to speak, but Bullet put his finger on her lips. “And you know me,” he continued. “You know you can trust me
, and you know exactly how I feel about you. You’re just not ready to hear it.”

  He was right. She wasn’t ready to hear it. She wasn’t ready to accept the things he was saying either.

  “Just wait,” she warned. “Wait until you’re on the road. Night after night pretty cowgirls will invite you into their bed, and you—”

  “No Tristan, I won’t. I’m not your heartbreakin’ bull rider. I’m Bullet. Not him.”

  “As if you don’t have a trail of broken hearts in your wake. Come on Bullet. You don’t need to be honest with me as much as you need to be honest with yourself.”

  “What’ll it take Tristan?”

  “To prove me wrong?”

  “Yep.”

  “I have no idea.” She was being honest. She didn’t know. Time, she supposed. But even with time, how could she know for sure? There were times she couldn’t be on the road with him, and then she’d wonder if he was with other women. That’s how it was with Walter, and it tore her up.

  Bullet lifted her hand and rested her palm against his chest. “Feel that? It’s my heart, and it belongs to you.”

  This time it was Bullet’s turn to say the wrong thing. She’d heard those words before, almost verbatim. Walter told her the same thing, and she’d been stupid enough to believe him. She’d vowed never to make that mistake again.

  Tristan pulled her hand away from him, and stood. “I have to go.” She grabbed her bag and jacket, and walked toward the front door. She wasn’t sure where she was going, but she knew she couldn’t stay here. She glanced to her right and saw Lyric talking to the bulldogger.

  Lyric must’ve recognized there was a problem. First she looked over to where Bullet sat, and then back at Tristan. She said something to Slade, and stood, joining Tristan near the front door.

  “You okay?”

  “I’m not.”

  “You want a ride back”

  “Would you mind?”

  “Not at all. Sisters need to stick together. Give me a minute.”

  Tristan watched Lyric walk over to where Bullet still sat, and panicked momentarily. If she talked to him, Tristan would have to find another ride home. She couldn’t deal with Bullet tonight, even through Lyric.

 

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