The Cowboy Says I Do

by Dylann Crush

  Lacey kept up her side of the conversation during dinner, chatting about the decisions they still had to make for the wedding. He had no idea there were so many details to consider. What color bow tie did he want? He didn’t care. Did he have a preference on which song they’d have their first dance to? Whatever she wanted. It’s not like this would count.

  He was happy to leave all of the planning up to her. All he wanted to do was show up and get it over with. Then maybe he could go back to thinking of Lacey as nothing more than a coworker. He’d already passed the point of not being able to think of her as a little sister. That ended the first time they kissed. There was no going back to the way things used to be. Not since he’d felt how magical it was to be inside her.

  The waiter came to clear their plates. Bodie sat up straighter, his heart picking up the tempo. This was the part of the evening he was most concerned about. When the waiter asked if they’d like to see the dessert tray, he furrowed his brow. He’d made arrangements earlier for the special dessert—flan with a side of a yellow cubic zirconia engagement ring. Even though the whole engagement was fake, he wanted her to be surprised enough to get a few realistic photos.

  Lacey looked to him for guidance. “What do you say? We could split a piece of that giant chocolate cake I saw on display when we came in.”

  “What?” Bodie had been craning his neck, trying to find the maître d’ he’d spoken with earlier.

  “Chocolate cake.” Lacey reached across the table and put her hand on his. “You okay? You seem a little distracted.”

  He shook his head, trying to dislodge the feeling that something had gone wrong. “Yeah, chocolate cake sounds great.”

  The waiter nodded then disappeared with their plates.

  “Can you excuse me for a minute?” Bodie asked.

  “Sure.” Lacey let her hand fall away. “This has been a really nice night. Thanks.”

  “Mmm-hmm.” He pushed back from the table, intent on finding out what had happened to his engagement flan and, more important, where his fake engagement ring had gone.

  thirty-eight

  Lacey stared down at the flan the waiter set in front of her. “Oh, we ordered cake.”

  “It’s flan, ma’am.” He slid it to the middle of the table and produced two spoons.

  “I see that it’s flan. But we ordered chocolate cake.” She tilted her head, wondering how an order of chocolate cake could turn to flan in the space of a few minutes.

  “I’ll check on that.” He nodded his head as he turned to go.

  “Wait.” Lacey took the plate holding the flan with one hand. “Why don’t you take this with you?”

  “I’d prefer to leave it on the table if you don’t mind.” He gave her a forced smile.

  “I do mind. We ordered chocolate cake.” She put both hands on the plate and thrust it toward him.

  “As you wish.” He took the plate and turned toward the kitchen, disappearing through the door as Bodie approached from the other direction.

  “Sorry about that.” Bodie slid back into the seat across from her. “Had to sort something out.”

  “Is everything okay?” she asked.

  “Yeah, it’s fine. More wine?” He didn’t wait for her to reply before he topped off her glass.

  “You sure you’re okay?” She took a small sip.

  “Oh, absolutely.” But the way he ran a finger around the inside of his collar told her otherwise. Something had him rattled, she could tell by the way he tapped his fingertips on the white tablecloth. Bodie had never been a tapper. But if he wanted to pretend all was cool, she wouldn’t push the issue.

  A giant slice of chocolate cake materialized in front of her. The waiter slid it onto the table along with two forks. “Your chocolate cake.”

  “But . . .” Bodie looked around like he expected the waiter to pull another slice out of thin air. “Where’s the flan?”

  “We ordered chocolate cake,” Lacey said. “I sent the flan back.”

  “You what?” He stood from the table, towering over the waiter, who seemed to shrink under Bodie’s heated glare.

  “The lady refused the flan, sir. I returned it to the kitchen.”

  Bodie took a fork and dug it into the middle of the cake. Chocolate crumbs flew everywhere.

  “What are you doing? Have you lost your mind?” Lacey pushed back from the table as Bodie massacred the cake. Chocolate frosting splattered over their wineglasses and covered his fingers.

  Finally, he turned his gaze on her. “The flan. Our engagement story? I was going to get pictures tonight.”

  She put her hand to her forehead. That’s what this was all about? He was trying to surprise her with a fake proposal? “I’m sorry, I don’t even like flan.”

  “What?” He stopped rummaging through the cake. “Then why the hell did you tell the reporter I proposed to you with a ring on top of some flan?”

  Her cheeks flamed. “I don’t know. I was trying to come up with a good story.”

  “I’ve got to get that ring.” He wrapped a chocolate-covered hand around the waiter’s arm, leaving brown streaks all over the long, white sleeve. “What did you do with that flan?”

  “It’s in-n-n-n-n the k-k-itchen,” the poor waiter stuttered.

  Bodie reached for Lacey’s hand. “Let’s go.”

  She followed him through a set of swinging doors into the commercial kitchen. Someone holding a giant knife stopped chopping carrots and stepped in front of Bodie. “Sir, you can’t come in here.”

  “I’m looking for my ring. You were supposed to deliver it to our table so I could propose.” Bodie gestured to where Lacey stood half-hidden behind him. Confronting men with large knives wasn’t her style.

  “Where did the flan go?” The chef waved his knife in the air. “The one that was sent back.”

  “Took it to table seven.” One of the servers raced by, his arms full of dishes.

  “Which way is table seven?” Bodie asked.

  “Follow me,” the server said.

  Bodie whipped around, still holding on to Lacey’s hand, and pulled her out of the kitchen. As they entered the main dining room everyone erupted into a round of applause. A couple stood in the middle of the room, the woman holding her left hand out and admiring a huge yellow diamond sitting squarely on her ring finger.

  “Dammit.” Bodie let go of Lacey’s hand and picked his way through the tables to the center of the room. Lacey waited where he left her, not wanting to put herself in the center of attention. Her goal of keeping a low profile had been blown to bits . . . again.

  Bodie exchanged words with the man and woman. The woman clamped her hands to her hips while the man shoved his hands in his pockets and looked to his feet. A few moments later the woman slipped the ring off her finger and tossed it across the room. Lacey’s heart skipped a few beats as the ring bounced across the floor and came to land under a table a few feet away.

  She knelt down, trying to catch a glimpse. There it was. She crawled toward it, past a man’s legs, finally grabbing the ring in her hands. As she stood, Bodie reached for her hand to help her up. He took the ring from her hand and knelt in front of her.

  “Lacey Cherish, I know this isn’t the way you pictured things, but I need to ask you a question.”

  Her stomach knotted, her throat closed. She couldn’t make a sound if she wanted to so she nodded. Even knowing this was fake, that it didn’t mean a thing, that he was doing this only for the pictures, her heart still surged in her chest.

  “Will you marry me?” His eyes shone. He was putting everything he had into this performance. Without even thinking, she knelt down in front of him.

  “Yes,” she whispered. The word came out like a cross between a croak and a whisper.

  He slid the ring onto her finger and her heart nearly burst. Feeling like she was floating
on a fluffy cloud and looking down on the entire scene, she wrapped her arms around him and pulled his head down. He resisted for a flash of an instant then his mouth was on hers. Applause erupted all around them, drawing Lacey back from her dreamy cloud, back to where she knelt on the floor of a restaurant, back to where reality slammed into her like a two-by-four to the gut.

  Bodie stood, helping her to her feet. “Think they got some good pictures?” he muttered under his breath.

  Pictures. That’s right. This was a stunt, staged solely for the purpose of getting the pictures he promised to the reporter. Of course. Confusion and hurt meshed together, shielding her heart, cutting off any ridiculous hope she might have had that a teeny, tiny part of Bodie’s performance tonight had been something beyond that . . . a performance.

  “Yeah.” She swallowed the ache of disappointment rising in her throat. What did she expect? That after a night of mind-blowing sex he’d want to throw caution to the wind and make their fake engagement into something real? She didn’t have anyone else to blame but herself. This had all been her idea, part of her master plan. All he’d done was gone along with it, even when he didn’t want to.

  “Good.” He brushed his thumb over her knuckles. “What do you think about the ring?”

  She hadn’t gotten a good look at it yet. As he led them back to their table, she held her left hand out in front of her. A giant yellow stone sparkled and glittered. Square-cut and set in a platinum bezel surrounded by small white diamonds, it exceeded anything she might have hoped for. “It’s beautiful.”

  His hand brushed her hair back from her face. “So are you.”

  “Look over here, now.” Their waiter held Bodie’s phone up, ready to capture the photo they needed.

  Lacey pasted on a smile, the kind she figured a woman who found herself newly engaged might project. Fortunately for her, it didn’t require much effort. Despite his reluctance to admit his dad and pops were in over their heads, he’d really come through for her. And here she was, engaged to the man of her dreams. Fake engaged, she reminded herself.

  She swallowed back the irony, trying to keep it from gobbling her up. “Did we get what we needed?”

  “Yeah, I think so.” Bodie let go of her hand to finish wiping the chocolate frosting onto a napkin.

  “How about one with a kiss?” the waiter prompted.

  “Um, sure.” Bodie set the napkin down and held out his arms. “How about it, Sweets?”

  For the camera. For the publicity. For the town. She reminded herself of all the reasons she should want his kiss. And tried to ignore the reality that she wanted his kiss because he was Bodie. And she’d been falling for him for years.

  thirty-nine

  Bodie grabbed Shotgun’s leash as he came to a stop outside the Phillips House. Lacey had been working nonstop for the past three weeks. So had everyone else, making it impossible for him to sneak over and dig around the yard for his granddad’s stash. The outside sported a fresh coat of light gray paint. The windows sparkled and shined. The weathered wood had been replaced and a new white railing surrounded the large wraparound porch.

  Between following up on leads for the cigar ring and trying to hunt down the pit bull fights, he hadn’t been out to check on things for a week or so. Any sign of the holes from the supposed armadillo infestation was gone, although Bodie wondered if his dad or Buck had been more to blame for trying to find his granddad’s stash of cash. Either way, the whole yard had been replaced by a fresh layer of sod. That was going to make it incredibly difficult to do what he needed to do. But he was running out of time. If he didn’t get out here in the next day or so, not only would his family be going down, but so would Lacey and her dreams of salvaging Ido.

  Lacey stood on the edge of the lawn, a hose in her hand, watering the new grass. Her hair piled on top of her head in a messy updo and the shades sitting on her nose hid those gorgeous eyes. He hadn’t seen her for over a week and the sight of her filled him with an unfamiliar feeling, one he didn’t feel comfortable exploring. Not now, maybe not ever.

  “Hey, Deputy.” Jonah stepped onto the porch as Bodie and Shotgun exited the truck.

  “Jonah, what are you doing here?” The last time Bodie had seen Jonah Wylder he’d been wrapped in chains and protesting the close of the warehouse. It was nice to see him doing something helpful for a change. Lacey had that effect on people. She was really turning the town around, getting everyone to work toward a common goal.

  “Needed a little tuck pointing around the chimney.” Jonah shrugged. “Guess I should have followed in my old man’s footsteps a while ago. Turns out I’m a damn good mason.”

  “Good for you.” Bodie shifted Shotgun’s leash to the other hand so he could shake Jonah’s.

  “Sorry about all that ruckus about the warehouse.” He tucked his hand into his pocket and cast his gaze to the ground.

  “Not a problem. I’m glad to see you’ve found a new profession.” And he was, too. It didn’t do anyone any good to have a wild card like Jonah on the loose with no direction and a chip on his shoulder.

  “Mayor Cherish is going to have me frost your wedding cake, too.”

  “What’s that?” Bodie shook his head. He must have heard Jonah wrong.

  “That’s one way my dad said I could practice my mortar skills. Turns out frosting a cake is just like laying bricks. Consistency of the spread is key.” He waved his hand in front of him like he was spreading a layer of mortar over an imaginary brick wall.

  “Is that so?” Bodie glanced toward Lacey. She must have noticed his arrival since she’d turned off the hose and appeared to be headed his way.

  “Yes, sir. You’re going to have the best wedding cake this place has ever seen.”

  Bodie didn’t doubt it, seeing as how it would be the first wedding cake the event center had ever seen. “Sounds good. I’ll catch you later.” He had more important things to do than chat with Jonah. He hadn’t seen Lacey for over a week and his body seemed to actually be going through withdrawal.

  “Hey, Deputy.” She stopped in front of him, a grin on her face that reflected how he felt deep down inside.

  “Hey, yourself.” He couldn’t help but smile. Seeing her erased the past seven days. Why had he stayed away for so long? He lifted her shades to sit on top of her head, needing to see her eyes. The look she gave him made heat flare in his gut.

  Shotgun walked in a circle around them, wrapping them up in her leash, then tried to nose her way between their legs.

  “Feeling a little neglected?” she asked Shotgun.

  The dog whined, tail wagging. Bodie cleared his throat as he tried to untangle the leash from their legs.

  “You ready for our interview today?” Free from the leash, she stepped back. “I’ve got a binder of stuff we can go over real quick before the reporter shows up.”

  “Don’t you think we should hug or something? How would you greet your fiancé if you hadn’t seen him for a week?” He leaned close, muttering against her ear. The scent of hay and horses did little to soothe his nerves. He’d been on edge for the past two days thinking about the meeting with the reporter this afternoon.

  She wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “I suppose you’re right. Is anyone watching?”

  Holding her in his arms, he didn’t care who was watching. He dropped his chin, grazing her lips with his. A lightness bloomed in his chest, radiating through his limbs. This is what he’d missed—holding Lacey tight against him, tasting her on his lips, breathing in her scent.

  “Whoa, we don’t want to give them too much of a show.” She pulled back first. “I can’t wait for you to see the inside. Come on.”

  He followed her up the steps and into the house. The floors had been refinished and now gleamed under his boots. Daylight filtered through the windows and the stained glass transom, casting tiny rainbows across the wood floors. The smell
of lemon and ammonia surrounded him. The entire first floor had been restored to what looked like its original glory.

  “This looks amazing. How did you get this all done?” Everywhere he looked progress had been made. He ran a finger along the mantel of the fireplace in the front sitting room. There wasn’t a speck of dust anywhere.

  “I had, I mean have, so much help. Jojo’s been by several times. Even Helmut stopped in with lunch a couple of times for the crew. And Zina’s been my right-hand woman.”

  “It’s incredible.” He slowly spun around, taking it all in. “You’re incredible.”

  Her face pinked. “Honestly, all I’ve done is keep track of the to-do lists.”

  “I doubt that.” Suddenly he had a new appreciation for Lacey. Was there anything the woman couldn’t do?

  “How’s Shotgun?” She bent to scratch the pup behind the ears. “When is she due?”

  He groaned. “Another couple of weeks or so.”

  “And then what?” Lacey glanced up at him, expectant.

  Shrugging, he squatted next to her and ran his hand down Shotgun’s back. “I don’t know.”

  “I talked to Zina. She said she’d love for you to keep her.”

  “Puppies? I can barely take care of . . . oh, never mind.”

  “You weren’t going to say you can barely take care of yourself, were you?” she asked.

  “Of course not. It’s just, it wouldn’t be fair to her to have her sit around the house all day waiting for me. I’m gone so much.”

  “What if she came to work with me?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She could be an ambassador for For Pitties’ Sake. Maybe when people come to the house for an event she could greet them. If she makes a good impression then maybe we can find homes for some of the other dogs.”

  “You know, you might be onto something.” He knelt down next to the pup. “You want to go to work with Lacey every day?”