The Big Girl's Guide to Buying Lingerie: A Cowboy Love Story (Bluebonnet, Texas Book 4)

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The Big Girl's Guide to Buying Lingerie: A Cowboy Love Story (Bluebonnet, Texas Book 4) Page 12

by Amie Stuart


  Even in something as casual as jeans and a T-shirt, she was beautiful; as in drop-dead gorgeous, and intimidating as hell. Toni was not a soft woman, and one had nothing to do with the other.

  “Bite me,” the leggy teenager called out.

  Toni dismissed her with a wave of her hand. “How are you doing, Jade?” she asked, giving me a warm smile that softened her angular features considerably.

  I nodded and returned her smiled, but before I could answer, Rene spoke up.

  “What’d you bring her for, if you’re not gonna marry her?” she asked, her arms wound around Robbie’s neck.

  “Rene.” Toni scowled pointedly in her direction. “Don’t mind her. She’s got territorial issues.”

  “Thanks.”

  Tim joined us, and there was more backslapping before he sent Rene off to get some stuff she needed to carry over to her grandmother’s. “How you doin’, good lookin’?”

  I snorted with laughter as he arched one jet black eyebrow at me and waited for a reply. “Well?”

  “Just fine, thanks, and yourself.” A flush heated up my face.

  “Don’t mind him, either, Jade. He likes to flirt. A lot.” Toni’s eyebrows rose, even as she crossed her arms and shrugged. “But he's harmless.”

  Some of my earlier tension seeped out of my shoulders, as Robbie slipped an arm around me. “I guess now I know where Robbie gets it from.”

  “And you’re losin’ your touch, brother, ‘cause she didn’t buy your half-baked attempt to flirt at all.” Robbie chuckled and gave me a little squeeze. “You can call me Rowdy, you know.”

  “I know.” But I sort of liked being the only one who called him Robbie.

  Once Rene had rejoined us, we all walked across the road, cutting between the converted garage and the Boudreaux's beige and green two-story. The party, complete with a smoking BBQ pit and two picnic tables covered with checkered plastic clothes, was apparently in full swing. No one questioned me or Robbie about the lie that we’d perpetrated the other night. On the contrary, they treated me like one of the family, as if I really were a future member, Robbie’s real fiancé. A part of me wished I was. A part of me kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. Surely, at some point, someone would expect an explanation…or something!

  Rowdy disappeared into the nearby barn with Travis, Mr. Boudreauxe's grandson, to look at a new foal, leaving me with Susie and Delaney, the youngest Boudreaux child, and Ty and Betti, who spent most of their time silently cooing at each other and rubbing her swollen belly. I remembered Ty from a previous visit at the dancehall, when Hope had an ear infection—he was the tall, quiet blond who played drums—but there were more Boudreauxes than I could ever hope to keep straight.

  “So, Jade—” Mr. Boudreaux smiled at me from his seat at the end of one picnic table, “—how in the world did a pretty little thing like you end up selling liquor?”

  I smiled back, completely charmed. He was much more rugged than Daddy with his deeply tanned skin, laugh lines around his eyes, Wranglers and pearl snap short sleeve shirt, but something in his dark blue eyes reminded me of my father. “I thought it might be more fun than sitting around making up creative ways to wrangle donations out of bored rich people for the museum I used to work at.”

  His wife, Maggie, chuckled from her spot beside him. “Don’t let him get to you, honey. He likes to pick and tease.”

  “But Dad’s harmless,” Delaney added with a giggle.

  “If Jerrod didn’t tease,” Susie drawled, “you’d think there was something wrong with him. How long did you work for the museum?”

  “Five years.”

  “You must have started young,” Susie said.

  “Right out of college.”

  “What college?” Delaney asked from her other side.

  “Hook’em horns,” I quipped with a grin in her direction. ‘Hook’em horns’ was the University of Texas motto.

  “Oh Lord, I can see things gettin’ real ugly around here on a Texas/A & M football weekend,” Betti quipped while Delaney cheered. “My sister’s an Aggie.” That was all she had to say. The Aggie/Longhorn rivalry was legendary. The only thing worse was the Texas/Oklahoma rivalry.

  “Delaney goes to UT San Antonio,” Susie added. We exchanged high fives behind the older woman’s back.

  “What’s your major?”

  “Well,” she hedged a bit, “officially it’s business, but I can’t quite decide. I like everything.”

  “Daddy always said no education is wasted.” I smiled over at her, understanding completely how she felt. I’d had the same problem at eighteen.

  “I’d thought business, but my sister-in-law works for the FBI in crime scene analysis. It means getting a master’s degree, and then there's all those science courses, but...” She held out her hands and shrugged.

  Her words brought home just how little I knew about Robbie’s extended family, but I was practically salivating at the words Master's Degree. “Wow, that must be the coolest job ever,” I sighed.

  Delaney nodded and Susie stood up. “I’ll get out of your way so you two can compare notes.”

  She settled on Betti’s other side with a smile of understanding.

  “My major was archeology, but I love so many aspects of anthropology.”

  We chatted about the different disciplines of anthropology, including forensics, for a few minutes, until Betti broke in with a laugh. “Y'all are making my brain numb.” She stood up and nuzzled her husband’s neck before heading across the yard toward the house. The skirt of her knee-length psychedelic pink dress swirled around her very pregnant body, and the sun bounced off her blond curls.

  Ty gave me a sheepish grin and shrugged, but stayed silent.

  Before Delaney and I could resume our conversation, a ruckus from the barn caught everyone’s attention. Robbie came bursting out, neighing like a horse with Travis on his shoulders.

  In the midst of everyone’s laughter, Maggie excused herself, announcing we’d eat in ten minutes, before heading inside with Susie on her heels to help.

  During dinner Susie continued with the mystifying third degree, focusing on my family this time. It’s a wonder Delaney’s sister-in-law was the only FBI agent in the family. “Tell me about your father, Jade.”

  “Suz,” Robbie growled a little warning from his spot beside me.

  “It’s alright.” I gave him a little smile and answered her question. “He’s a Geology professor at UT—Austin.”

  “Brothers and sisters?”

  “Emerald’s a lawyer—” I rolled my eyes and she laughed, “—and engaged to another lawyer from her firm. Nicky’s the baby; he graduates in December with a BS in Marine Biology.”

  “And your mother’s a judge.”

  “That’s enough.” Robbie stood and picked up both our empty plates.

  “It’s alright.” As he stepped over the bench, I gently patted his thigh to let him know I was fine, but he, apparently, wasn’t ready to let it go.

  “Lay off, Suz.”

  I watched him stalk across the yard to the trashcan, then turned back to Susie with a shrug. I was more puzzled at her probing than offended. Our engagement was a sham, after all. So what did it matter?

  With Robbie out of the way, Hope eyed me from her perch on Delaney’s shoulder, furiously waving one chubby arm in my direction.

  “Wanna hold her?” Delaney asked. A green bow that matched her green gingham one-piece outfit held a tuft of Hope’s bright red hair upright.

  “Sure.” I nodded and reached for her, caught off guard when she lunged for me with a squeal.

  Jessa chuckled from the seat across from me. She’d taken Betti’s spot. “Ever held a baby before?”

  Hope stared at me, her tiny jaw working up and down, her face a myriad of emotions, as I settled her in my arms.

  “No,” I replied with a soft nervous laugh.

  She scrunched up her face and blew little puffy breaths out her nose.

  “Support her h
ead,” Robbie gently instructed as he rejoined us. I cupped the back of her head and swallowed the lump in my throat, as she stared up at me with the palest blue eyes I’d ever seen. Drool covered her chin and wet the bib that proclaimed her “Daddy’s Angel”.

  If I didn’t pay attention to her, she’d grunt and yank on my shirt. If I did, we’d play the smile game. I’d smile. She’d smile. I’d pretend to look away and her smile would disappear, and she’d kick her legs until we’d start all over again.

  “Hope likes you,” Robbie murmured. His words made me feel as if holding her had been some sort of test.

  Did I pass?

  “She’s sweet.” About that time, she tangled her hand in my bangs and jerked hard enough to bring tears to my eyes and caused me to grunt in pain.

  So much for sweet.

  Robbie untangled her fingers and returned her to her mother for a late afternoon snack. Jessa wasn’t at all shy about breastfeeding in front of the family. I, however, excused myself and went for a walk, unable to stop myself from staring. Funny, I’d never thought of boobs having an actual purpose beyond some guy’s play toy, and I’d never in my life seen a woman nurse a baby. I wasn’t sure that was a twinge of pain or longing I felt in my chest as I stood up with some silly excuse about using the restroom.

  Then I ran smack dab into Ty and Betti locked in a heated embrace on the side porch.

  Betti came up for air at the sound of my footsteps. “Don’t mind us, honey. We’re still newlyweds,” she quipped.

  My cheeks burned as I tried again to not stare. She was having a boy and had to be about six months pregnant. Betti was no small thing, on the contrary, she was at least three inches taller than me, but about my size. Her dress barely covered her knees, and she wore matching pink wedge flip flops with rhinestones. Her toes matched her shoes. How in the world did she get them polished?

  She was probably one of those women who’d get noticed whether they were skinny or fat. But being overweight and pregnant made her that much more noticeable. The swing of her hips when she walked was almost exaggerated, and she looked like she had a permanent pout on her face, though she tended to laugh quite a bit. Betti probably would have bought a pair of thong panties for every day of the week, pregnant or not.

  HH had always decked me out in muted and somber solids as long as I’d allowed her to dress me—which admittedly, was far too long—and Betti was the antithesis of everything my mother had pounded into my head, and I couldn’t seem to work up much to say to her. She was even more intimidating than Toni, but for completely different reasons. Amazing how she seemed to get along so well with Jessa and Toni, despite the drastic difference between all three women.

  The couple moved around to the front porch and with a sigh, I stepped down into the yard and took a seat on the covered swing, letting my mind drift. What would Betti say if a bookstore clerk approached her to recommend the latest best-selling diet book? From what I could tell, Betti probably would have laughed and told them to fuck off.

  “What’cha doin’?” Rowdy crossed the yard and sat beside me on the swing, draping an arm across my shoulder.

  “Trying not to watch them make out,” I muttered, distracted by his nearness.

  He leaned against me for a better view and chuckled in my ear. “Taking notes, are ya?”

  I frowned and wrinkled my nose in his direction. “No!”

  “Now, who the hell is gonna see them out here, besides family?”

  “But still.” I waved a hand in their direction. They stood forehead to forehead, his hands on her belly, hers at his waist. “I don’t know, she just...”

  “Just what?”

  “She’s...so—” I waved my hand again, struggling for the right word. “Noticeable.”

  “Noticeable?” he asked quietly, a touch of surprise in his voice.

  “Blatant,” I clarified with a frown, suddenly wishing I’d kept my mouth shut.

  “Blatantly what? She’s in love with her husband.”

  “Big women shouldn’t dress and act like that. And she’s pregnant to boot. My God, they should get a room,” I added as their intimate pose became something hotter.

  The heat of the day had left me cranky, but it was more than heat bothering me. I refused to look too closely at the green-eyed monster planted on my shoulder, as all my mother’s strict teachings about propriety and my own insecurities came home to roost.

  “So, what do you think of Jessa?”

  I’d just danced all over Rowdy’s extremely protective toes straight to the edge of some very hot water. “She’s fine.” I shrugged, praying he’d let it go, but it was too late. I’d screwed up big-time. “She’s alright.”

  He stood and yanked me to my feet, a scowl on his face. “You are a snob, Jade Skye Ballard!”

  “I...I...I—”

  “You see that woman over there, standing on that porch, making out with her husband?”

  I gave a little nod, my stomach suddenly knotted with dread. “Uh-huh.”

  “She’s loved him since the sixth grade, and I can't even begin to tell you how much he deserves her,” he hissed. “Or how happy she’s made him. Last year she miscarried their firstborn.”

  I bit my lip and winced at the word miscarriage.

  Robbie roughly turned me so I could see the rest of the family sitting at the extra-long picnic tables eating homemade ice cream and chatting. “Jessa, that you think is alright, she’s just happy to be alive after she got her ass dragged around a rodeo arena. Her left knee is fake and she’s got a steel rod in her leg,” he hissed angrily.

  I winced, but couldn’t stop myself from asking, “What about Toni?”

  “Reunited with her sixteen-year-old daughter earlier this year. Thanks to Tim.... And Delaney?”

  The tall, slender redhead with long curly hair and dark blue eyes. We’d sat and talked about college and anthropology. I didn’t want to hear this, but nodded anyway.

  “She’s sweet, she’s smart, she treats my niece like her baby sister. And she’s not Maggie’s! But she is Jerrod's, and she lost her own mother to leukemia last year.”

  I couldn’t look at him, and didn’t know what to say. Instead, I focused on the field to my right where some young horses romped. Mr. and Mrs. Boudreaux didn’t act like an old married couple. They sure didn’t act like my parents, and I tried to imagine my mother’s reaction if Daddy came home and announced he had another child. Desert Storm would have paled in comparison. “So Delaney is only Mr. Boudreauxe's daughter?” I choked out.

  “That’s right, she’s Jerrod’s love child.”

  I winced at the sarcasm in his voice.

  “I’d better take you home now before your mother finds out the type of company you’ve been keeping.”

  “Robbie, I—”

  “My name’s Rowdy.”

  THE ANGRY AMERICAN

  ROWDY BARELY KEPT his tongue between his teeth on the twenty minute drive back to Jade's place and by the time he came to a screeching halt beside her mailbox his jaw ached.

  She climbed out and stood there for a minute or two, fiddling with the sunglasses in her hand while Rowdy sat hunched over the steering wheel, drumming his fingers on the dash and waiting for her to shut the door.

  “Robbie...Rowdy, I’m sorry,” she whispered shakily. “I didn’t—”

  “So am I.” He didn’t want to hear whatever she had to say. She was complicated, high-maintenance and a snob to boot. His initial impression of Jade had been correct and he was glad he wouldn't have to waste anymore time on her.

  Skye, the fun-loving, down-to-earth girl he’d fallen for was nowhere to be seen. Didn’t exist. Had been a figment of his imagination. Just as he’d suspected all along.

  And he didn’t need Jade's kind of trouble. His grip on the steering wheel tightened and his jaw clenched again.

  She gave a little nod, ducked her head and slammed the door. He hadn’t missed the tears in her eyes, but he gritted his teeth and watched her go. The gent
leman in him wouldn’t allow him to leave until she stepped inside and closed the door behind her. Then he gunned it, weaving his way down smooth cement streets and escaped her tidy, little cookie cutter community.

  If she couldn’t accept Betti, who was the sweetest, most loyal woman in the word, she’d never accept him.

  Not if she knew the truth.

  Rowdy spent the rest of the afternoon working in his yard, just staying busy so he didn’t think too hard about Skye or his error in judgment. Dressed in an old pair of cut-offs, he cut, pruned and bagged his way around the back yard, despite the intense heat. It was so unbearably hot, he felt as if a drop of water would sizzle on his bare back.

  The sprinkler was walking a slow path around the back yard when Tim showed up. Rowdy sat on the back porch steps sipping a beer, strumming his old six-string guitar—the one he’d learned to play on—and contemplating a long and very cold shower.

  “Was wondering where the hell you ran off to. Thought maybe you and Miss Cutie Pie found something better to do.”

  “Miss Cutie Pie?” Rowdy stopped picking out notes and scowled up at Tim.

  “Yeah, okay, whatever.” Tim disappeared inside the house and returned with a cold beer in his hands.

  “She’s a snob,” Rowdy snarled, frowning at his freshly cut grass for no reason. “If she thinks Betti’s blatant, what the hell would she say about my sister, the felon?” he reasoned out loud. “I just don’t need the headache.”

  “Blatant...huh. Is that what she said?”

  “Yup.”

  They sat in silence for awhile and, from inside the house, Montgomery Gentry sang about a cold one coming on.

  “Have you written Charlene?” Tim quietly asked from beside him.

  “Huh? What does that have to do with Jade?” Talk about taking a day from bad to shitty.

 

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