The Cowboy Says I Do

by Dylann Crush

  “Absolutely.” She touched a finger to her lips.

  Bodie picked up the ceramic beaver. “Yeah, there are some real finds here. Make sure you lock up if you’re here by yourself.”

  “Aw, isn’t that sweet? You looking out for her like that?” Zina landed a playful swat on Bodie’s arm. “Seems like old times.”

  “Right.” But the look he gave Lacey didn’t seem like old times at all. There was something new simmering in the depths of his eyes. She wasn’t sure what to call it, but it made her feel exposed. It made her feel vulnerable. It made her feel like tucking tail and running as far and as fast as she could.

  “Well, that was fun,” Zina commented once Bodie left. “What do you think he really wanted?”

  “What do you mean? He said he saw my truck and wanted to make sure all was okay.” Lacey shrugged, not wanting to talk about the almost-kiss until she’d had a chance to mull it over on her own. “What’s so weird about that?”

  Zina lifted a small box from a lower shelf and began to cut the tape holding it closed. “Personal safety checks from the deputy sheriff? Is that typical?”

  Lacey cleared her throat. “I don’t know why not. Based on the way the employees feel about the warehouse closing, I suppose someone could come by and start some trouble.”

  “Mmm-hmm.” Zina turned to face her, a ring of fake flowers resting on top of her thick, black hair. “Am I ready for the Renaissance festival?”

  Grateful for the change of subject, Lacey grinned. “You know what would be fun?”

  “What?” Zina picked up a lacy fan and fluttered it against her chest.

  “What if we use some of this stuff for theme weddings?” She fingered the edge of Zina’s flowery headband. “So far we’ve got typical wedding decor, cherubs, Renaissance stuff . . . we could come up with some fun themed decor from stuff we already have right here.”

  “You know what? I think you’re onto something.” Zina smiled.

  “Really?”

  “Sure. What bride wouldn’t want her guest tables decorated with unicorn poop?” She opened the top of the box in front of her and lifted a bundle of rainbow-colored streamers.

  “I’m serious.” Lacey swatted at the ribbons.

  “Oh, I’ve no doubt you are.” Zina took off the flowery headband. “Just let me know how I can help.”

  “Really?” Lacey turned toward her friend.

  “I know I’m going to get roped into this one way or another. I guess I’d rather go willingly.”

  “That’s the spirit.” Lacey glanced around at all of the boxes they hadn’t checked yet. “I wonder what kind of wedding Adeline wants.”

  “Knowing her, nothing but the best. Are you really going to let her be your first client?”

  “Someone’s got to be first. May as well be her. You know she’ll get the word out.”

  Zina shook her head. “She’s never had a problem with being the center of attention.”

  “You know . . .” Lacey tapped a finger to her lip. “You’re right about that.”

  “Uh-oh. I know that look. What are you thinking?” Zina asked.

  “What if we use Adeline’s wedding as a publicity move? I could see if I can get a magazine or newspaper or something interested in doing a piece about it.”

  “That might actually work.”

  “Really?” Zina usually shot down Lacey’s ideas before they fully formed, so the fact she supported this one made it seem almost too good to be true.

  “Sure, why not? Adeline would be thrilled, you’d get some free publicity”—she shrugged her shoulders—“What have you got to lose?”

  “All right. Let’s do it.” Lacey nodded. “I’ll start looking into places to contact tomorrow.”

  “Who’s going to coordinate with the bride-to-be?” Zina’s brow arched.

  Lacey’s stomach pitched at the thought of spending time with the woman who’d made her high school years such a living hell. “You said you’d help, right?”

  “Oh hell to the no on that. I can’t stand to be within five miles of that woman.”

  “Then I think it’s going to have to be me. Until we have a chance to get things set and have enough funds to hire someone to manage things, this will probably be a volunteer effort.”

  “On top of working at the Burger Bonanza and being mayor?” Zina continued to stare at Lacey, her brow lifted into a perfect arch.

  “It’s not like I have much of a social life. It’ll be good to stay busy. Besides, the town needs this.”

  “The town needs this, or you need this?” Zina’s gaze bored into hers. “I know you feel like you’ve got to polish off the Cherish name after your dad—”

  “It’s not about that.” Lacey nodded, trying to convince herself that Zina hadn’t hit the nail square on the head. “If I’m going to be mayor, I’ve got to look out for the whole town. That means the economy, the people—”

  “And if you do enough good maybe people will forget about how your dad’s term ended?” Zina pressed.

  Lacey let out a gruff breath. “Fine. If that’s a side benefit, I’m not going to complain.”

  “So when is this big sale happening?”

  “How long do you think it’s going to take us to go through the rest of these boxes?”

  Zina’s gaze drifted around the room. “You buying pizza tonight?”

  “Sure.”

  “Then let’s get a move on.”

  Lacey grinned. It was good to be back in a place where she had friends who would go the extra mile for her, where people had her back, where she felt like she might be able to make a difference. Even if it did mean fighting off the feelings for Bodie she’d hauled around with her for as long as she could remember.

  He might believe in putting family first, but she believed in putting the town first. Forging attachments would only slow her down and hurt her in the long run.

  thirteen

  Bodie stopped his truck on the side of the road. It had been almost two weeks since he’d been out at the warehouse checking on Lacey. Now the parking lot overflowed and people had left their vehicles in a hodgepodge dotting the drive to the Phillips House and warehouse. When Lacey called earlier in the week to let him know about the sale, she told him she expected a large turnout over the weekend. But the number of people drifting toward the warehouse doors made it look like attendance might even exceed her expectations. He passed a giant sign advertising the sale as he let the crowd sweep him inside.

  “Welcome.” Zina thrust a piece of paper into his hands. “Here’s a map of the warehouse. We’ve got items separated by theme and everything’s marked.”

  “So Lacey pressed you into service?” he asked.

  “Me and everyone else who’s ever owed her a favor.” Zina continued to hand sheets out to the people coming in behind him.

  “Looks like a success so far. Have you sold much?”

  “We just opened a half hour ago but there are a ton of people in there.” She nodded toward the door leading into the warehouse. “Lacey’s back by the checkout table if you want to find her.”

  “Thanks. I think I’ll go track her down.” He hadn’t seen her since that awkward almost-kiss. Even thinking about his lack of control made his cheeks burn with embarrassment. But they were both adults. They could put it behind them and keep things professional.

  He was about to bypass the line of people snaking into the warehouse when a scuffle outside the front door diverted his attention. His dad and pops pushed ahead of everyone else to enter the office area.

  “What’s all this?” Dad asked.

  Bodie stepped out of the line to stop his dad before he passed into the warehouse. “It’s the sale I told you about.”

  “You said if we showed up today we could get some of our stuff back.”

  “No. I told you La
cey organized a fund-raiser.”

  His dad snagged the sheet of paper from Bodie’s hands. “What the hell has she gone and done?”

  “Looks like she’s organized a pretty successful sale,” Bodie commented. “I was about to go find her and see how business has been.”

  His pops scanned the sheet of paper. “Where are the tchotchkes?”

  “The what?” Bodie squinted at the map.

  “The damn decoration stuff. The breakables.” Pops ran a finger over the paper, scanning the print.

  “I’m not sure. You want to come with me to find Lacey?”

  His dad growled as someone bumped into him from behind. “Watch yourself.”

  “Come on.” Bodie led the way, entering the warehouse. Lacey must have rearranged things. Industrial shelving lined the perimeter of the area. Boxes stacked high into the air. They passed a section of toys, crafts, kitchenware, and gardening supplies before he noticed the checkout tables set up against the far wall.

  “This isn’t right,” Pops muttered. “We should have had a chance to get in here before she turned it into a damn circus.”

  “No offense, Pops, but if you’d handled things the right way, you wouldn’t be trying to buy back your old property in the first place.” He didn’t like the way his dad and pops seemed to feel entitled to what wasn’t legally theirs anymore. They still hadn’t given him any more information on what might really be going down. But his suspicions hadn’t been cleared up so he was still keeping an eye out for signs.

  “Don’t talk to your grandfather like that,” his dad ground out. “If you’d been able to get our property out of here we wouldn’t be trying to buy back something we already own.”

  Bodie clenched his jaw. It wasn’t worth it to argue with either one of them. He’d learned that long ago.

  The sight of Lacey bending over a long table brightened his mood. She’d piled her hair up on top of her head. A pencil stuck through it, holding it in place. She had on a fitted long-sleeve shirt under a thermal vest. She looked good in pink. Maybe he’d get up the nerve to tell her that one day. Keep it professional, he reminded himself.

  “Mayor Cherish.” His dad reached the table first and thrust his hand toward Lacey.

  She looked up, her gaze bouncing from his dad to his pops to him. “Hi there. Glad you could make it. Line starts over there.” She nudged her chin toward a long line of people waiting to check out.

  “We’re not in line.” Pops put his palms on the table and leaned toward her. “We’re looking for something in particular and I’m wondering if you can tell us where it is.”

  “Oh?” Lacey regarded his granddad with indifference, most likely not an attitude Pops was used to feeling. She picked up a sheet of paper from the table and handed it across the table. “We made up a map.”

  Pops crumpled the page into a ball as Lacey’s eyes widened. “I don’t need a map. I need to know where you put the figurines.”

  Her forehead creased. “Mr. Phillips, half of the inventory could be considered figurines. Can you be more specific?”

  Pops looked like he wanted to leap over the table. He’d never been the patient type.

  “I’ll handle this, Dad.” Bodie’s dad stepped forward, drawing Lacey’s attention. “We’re looking for something specific. I believe we ordered a pallet full of the high school mascot.” A grin spread across his face. “Beavers, actually.”

  “Oh, the beavers, right.” Lacey grinned. “The beavers aren’t for sale.”

  “Not for sale?” Pops shifted his weight forward, knocking into the table.

  Lacey either didn’t notice or decided to ignore it. “That’s right, Mr. Phillips. With the beavers being the high school mascot we figured we’d have plenty of opportunity to use them as centerpieces, or—”

  “They’re not meant for centerpieces,” Pops grunted.

  Dad shot Pops a look. Bodie couldn’t see his dad’s face from where he stood slightly behind him, but it was enough to get Pops to clamp his mouth shut and spin away from the table.

  “That’s right. The beaver’s a popular critter around here, that’s for sure.” Dad let out a bark of laughter. “That’s why we ordered them. Folks around here can’t get enough. It’s been one of our top sellers.”

  “Well, you’ll have to order more. Like I said, the beavers aren’t for sale.” Lacey gave them another long look. Someone called her from a few tables away. “If you gentlemen will excuse me, I’ve got work to do.”

  Bodie watched her walk away. The way her jeans hugged her ass made something twinge deep in his chest. Dammit. It was Lacey, the gal he used to tease by launching spit wads into her hair. Although, there’d been nothing girlish about the way she’d responded to him a couple of weeks ago, a fact he still hadn’t taken the time to acknowledge.

  “Well, there you have it. No beavers.” Bodie gestured toward the door. “If that’s all y’all were after—”

  “Not so fast,” Dad said. “We’ve got to get those beavers back one way or another. Did you think about Buck’s little proposition?”

  Bodie leaned close. “I’m not jeopardizing my career to get your case of ceramic doodads back. Just order more and be done with it if they’re so important.”

  “Supplier’s out. Can’t get more.” Pops ground his molars together. “See if you can sweet-talk your girlfriend.” Then he turned on his heel and headed toward the door.

  “Do what your granddad says.” His dad made a fist and gave Bodie a playful punch on the arm. “Sheriff Phillips . . . can’t you hear it now?”

  Bodie took in a deep breath through his nose, trying to refill his patience with air. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

  “Maybe if she was, you’d be able to do what we need you to do. The family’s counting on you, Son.” His dad fake-punched him on the arm then followed in Pops’s footsteps, disappearing out into the drizzly gray morning.

  He was tired of the family counting on him, tired of being made to feel solely responsible for cleaning up their messes. He’d looked the other way when his dad was accused of blackmailing the drugstore owner to stop carrying party supplies. There hadn’t been physical proof, although Bodie knew in his heart his dad had something to do with it. And when he got a call that Pops had gotten pissed off and shot up the jukebox down at Ortega’s, Bodie had smoothed things over, allowing Pops to avoid an arrest. He hadn’t gone into law enforcement to give his family a free pass.

  The weather fit his mood today: bleak, gloomy, and somewhat hopeless. Bodie located Lacey, who stood behind one of the long tables, bagging up someone’s purchases. He didn’t want to get in the way so he decided to take a closer look at the kind of things they had for sale. Rows and rows of miscellaneous party and paper supplies lined the warehouse floor. He’d never been directly involved in the import business, preferring to try to keep a little separation between family and his career. But he knew business hadn’t been so great over the past several years. What would cause his dad and Pops to bother with moving a failing operation all the way across the river?

  As he contemplated potential motives, he walked back through to the office area. Zina stood on one side of the room, her hand tangled in a clump of leashes. Dogs in various colors and sizes gathered around her legs.

  “What’s going on?” he asked.

  She turned around, almost knocking herself over. “Oh, hey. Lacey suggested I bring some of the dogs over. May as well see if we can find any of them a good home while we have so many people moving through.”

  “Good idea.” He bent to scratch between the ears of a gray-and-white pit bull. It licked his hand in thanks.

  “With any luck I’ll have room for you to bring Shotgun back next week.” Zina separated the dogs, leading them into a series of makeshift pens.

  Bodie’s heart squeezed. “No rush.” She’d told him it would only be for a few days
at first but kept asking if Shotgun could stay longer. He’d enjoyed having the company of the four-legged beast. They’d always had a variety of dogs around the ranch while he was growing up. Since he’d been out on his own he hadn’t had reason to care for anyone or anything else. But now with Shotgun around he found he liked sharing space, especially with a living being who didn’t try to tell him what to do all the time.

  “How’s her muzzle healing?” Zina continued to separate the dogs and steer them into the pens.

  “Great. She’s coming around, too. Not nearly as shy as she was the day we found her.”

  “Good. She’s a keeper. She’ll make a great family pet for someone.” Zina got the last dog settled then turned to face him. “Want to help me get the paperwork together?”

  Bodie glanced around. He didn’t have plans today. Nothing on his agenda except maybe hitting up the bar with a few friends later. He could spare an hour or two to pitch in. “Sure. Just show me what I need to do.”

  Zina dragged two chairs over and slid them behind a long table. “I’ll handle the questions if you handle the dogs. If people want to see a particular animal, just get it out of the pen so they can do a meet and greet. All of the info is on the notecard taped to the front of their crate.”

  Sounded easy enough. Bodie leaned down to check out the notecard taped to the first pen. Bella—great with kids, doesn’t like cats, relinquished by her owners because she had too much energy. Poor dog. He dangled his fingers in front of Bella’s nose so she could sniff him. Satisfied he wasn’t a threat or withholding some kind of treat, she licked his palm. Seemed like a sweet girl. She nudged his hand with her nose, trying to get her block-sized head under his fingers.

  “You angling for a rub?” he asked.

  A couple stopped to chat with Zina at the table. Bodie waited to see if they’d want to meet one of the dogs. His gaze swept the office area of the space. Standard cubicles lined the area in rows, except for the spot they occupied, that had been separated from the rest of the office area by a counter-height wall. What exactly did Lacey have in mind? Whatever it was, he couldn’t see it. But he’d make damn sure that no one messed with her while she tried to carry out her vision, however crazy it might be.