Crazy Little Thing Called Love

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Crazy Little Thing Called Love Page 7

by Jess Bryant


  She meant every word. Molly was practically glowing. It would have been obvious to a blind man that she was happy and in love. Blue wished her all the best in the world. Everyone deserved that kind of happiness.

  “I just know we’ll be hosting your wedding next.”

  She barely managed to keep her smile in place, “Uh huh.”

  Molly wasn’t trying to be mean but it still felt a little like a knife in her back. Her wedding next? Yeah and Mr. Right was just going to magically appear and sweep her off her feet. She’d have to look out for the flying pigs and magic pumpkins too.

  “I’m so happy you’re here.”

  “Me too.” She nodded, “You better get back to your new husband. I’m going to go find my seat.”

  “Oh! Husband!” Molly squealed and engulfed her in another hug before skipping away.

  Blue watched her go and prayed for strength. She headed to where the bar was set up and ordered a glass of wine. It came in a clear Dixie cup and she wasn’t altogether sure it hadn’t come from a box originally but she tipped it to her lips and savored it like it was Bordeaux.

  “Good lord you look just like your mama.”

  She turned and came face to face with an older woman with white bouffant hair and bright blue eye shadow. Mrs. Roberta Higgins had been her high school English teacher and she’d always looked like a poster child for bad makeup and seventies garb. Today she was dressed in a multi-colored ball-gown with enough bracelets on her arm that the jingle sounded like a herd of buffalo.

  “It’s the hair.” She kept her smile up and returned the hug the woman insisted on giving her, “It’s nice to see you Mrs. Higgins.”

  “The whole weddin’ I couldn’t stop staring. I would’ve sworn Liza Beth had come back to grace us with her presence.”

  Well at least the woman hadn’t been staring because she was falling out of her top. Still, the constant reminders that she looked like her mother made her chest clench for a whole other reason. She barely remembered the woman but everywhere she turned in this town somebody had a story to tell or a comment to make. She wasn’t Liza Beth Montgomery Carter and she never would be. She didn’t need any more reminders than that.

  “It’s just me ma’am.” She tried to change the subject, “Where’s Mr. Higgins?”

  “He’s around here somewhere, probably hitting on the hot young things.”

  Blue swallowed a giggle. Hearing an eighty year old women say hot young things was funny enough, the idea of old man Higgins actually trying to flirt with one of them was hilarious.

  “He got himself a Viagra prescription and I swear I can barely keep up.”

  And funny turned to disturbing just like that. She desperately searched for a way out of this suddenly frightening conversation. Old people with Viagra prescriptions was not a respectable topic of conversation, even Blue knew that much.

  “How’s Gary? I don’t think I’ve heard anything about him since we graduated high school. He went to Oklahoma didn’t he?” She asked about the woman’s grandson at the same time she signaled the bartender for another cup of wine.

  “Oh Gary is just wonderful dear, thanks for asking. He’s working in Tulsa these days. He married one of those Okie girls, such a sweetheart, and they’ve got three babies now.”

  Three? Jesus! Gary had always been a horn-dog but three seemed like a lot of kids for a twenty-eight year old. Then again, who was she to judge? She was just the loner loser with no date and no prospects on the horizon. The bartender refilled her cup and she took a long gulp.

  “How’s your daddy doing?”

  “Fine.”

  It wasn’t a lie if she didn’t know it wasn’t true was it? He seemed fine. He seemed like his same old hard headed, strong silent type self. A little bit thinner but he hadn’t slowed down. Right now he was probably out in the barn working himself to death. Death. A shudder ran down her spine and she pushed it away.

  “Are you married?”

  And there it was. Fate’s favorite topic of conversation. She shook her head, “No ma’am.”

  “Well bless your heart. You got a boyfriend?”

  “No.” She tipped the wine glass to her lips again. She’d managed to make it through nearly a full hour without anyone asking her that question or saying bless her heart when she answered in the negative. The wedding ceremony had taken over half an hour though so really it was more like twenty minutes. “I travel a lot for work so I haven’t really had the time for a man recently.”

  “Time? Honey, you make time when the man’s worth it.”

  Wasn’t that the truth? The thing of it was she’d never met one worth much of anything. She didn’t have ridiculously high standards or anything she just hadn’t found one that could hold her attention outside the bedroom that also happened to be good inside it. And at twenty-eight years old she’d learned over the years that sparkling conversation was one thing but if a guy couldn’t get the job done naked too it just wasn’t worth it.

  “Guess I just haven’t found Mr. Right yet.”

  “Well, you know there are plenty of eligible men in Fate Bluebell. We grow ‘em strong and right. A lot of girls these days are going off to the universities to find themselves a partner when all they really need to do is look in their backyard.”

  Oh it just got better and better. Now Mrs. Higgins was going to play matchmaker. Like a half dozen others hadn’t already offered her the same service? She’d barely avoided Molly’s mother when she tried to set her up with Dickie Tavern.

  “You know that Dickie is single again.” Mrs. Higgins offered, “He and that Willis girl broke off their engagement when he caught her with the Swan’s man, bless his heart.”

  Bless his heart indeed. She was tempted to search out poor Dickie just to have something else for the gossips to talk about. She’d heard the story of how Dickie came home from work early to find his beloved going heels to Jesus with the Swan’s man at least as many times as she’d been asked why she wasn’t married yet. Seemed she might owe a bit of thanks to the one man that had taken some of the wind out of the Bluebell Montgomery Carter’s back in town and still single sails.

  “You know, I think I’m going to see if Dickie wants to grab a drink. Thanks for the tip.” She grabbed for her wine glass and slipped away from the slightly stunned look on Mrs. Higgins face.

  She had no idea if Dickie was even in attendance but he’d provided her with an escape route so she sent him a silent thank you and tried to blend into the crowd that had gathered around the dance floor. Odds were good he was here somewhere. It seemed Molly had invited about ninety percent of the town and the other ten had shown up for good measure too.

  The newlyweds were just gathering for their first dance as husband and wife as Kenny Chesney’s “you had me from hello” boomed through the overhead speakers. They were staring into each others eyes as the lights dimmed and played over the glittering chandelier casting rays across Molly’s white dress. It was a really pretty moment to watch, to see two people deeply in love, committing themselves to one another for eternity.

  All Blue could wonder was if they realized they were dancing to a song written about a movie that had stared the singer’s future wife of all of four months. It probably made her cynical but she couldn’t help it. She was twenty-eight and alone in an awful tangerine dress in a rec center in Fate Texas.

  When the song ended, Molly stepped away from her husband to dance with her father to “Butterfly Kisses” and Blue couldn’t watch any more. She retreated to the vacant bar for a refill on her wine. Molly’s father looked at her with such love and adoration it was hard for a girl that had never seen that kind of look from her father to watch. She drowned her sorrows in her third mini-cup of wine and tried to figure out how many ounces the bartender was pouring because she wasn’t feeling a damn thing but melancholy so far.

  The music played and she turned down a dance with Woody out of respect for his wife as much as the fear of further humiliation if she were to fal
l out of her dress. She twisted the diamond ring on her middle finger that she’d bought herself for her birthday. Maybe she should have simply switched the finger and lied that she’d eloped and her movie star husband was on location and couldn’t make it. Oh that’d have sent the gossips into a spin.

  As it was, she was just waiting for the appropriate amount of time to pass so she could duck out of the reception. She wanted to go home, take off the awful tangerine nightmare and rub her feet. The four inch stiletto’s she’d donned had been the only saving grace to her outfit but they were torture for the balls of her feet.

  They were also horribly out of place even at the wedding. Most of the fine folks of Fate had predictably paired their dresses with boots or flip-flops. The occasional heel could be found but nothing bearing more than an inch and definitely not designer. She wasn’t sure why that surprised her. She’d always been out of place here.

  “If you’re thinking of making a run for it, I’d wait until they’re distracted by the cake.”

  The warm, gravely voice slid across her skin and her head shot up from where she’d been absentmindedly staring into the bottom of her wine cup. She got an eyeful of long legs clad in pressed dark denim, a light blue oxford stretched across a broad chest. Her gaze continued up and she swallowed hard over the new lump in her throat as she met a set of jade green eyes.

  “Wh… What are you doing here?”

  A smile tugged at one corner of his lips, “I was invited.”

  “Of course you were.”

  Of course he was! Because the entire town of Fate had been invited. How had she not considered that Zach West was probably around somewhere? How had she missed that big body sitting in the pews when she’d been standing awkwardly at the front of the church?

  “Nice dress by the way.”

  She felt his eyes travel down the length of her body and then back up, slowly. Her breasts overflowed the tangerine monstrosity and her face flushed with embarrassment. She’d thought the dress was bad before? The urge to take her clothes off didn’t come from her body’s intense reaction to the man in front of her this time so much as the itch to rid herself of the humiliating object.

  “I look like Day-Glo Barbie.”

  “If it’s any consolation that dress was made to be worn badly but you’re giving it a hell of a run for its money.” He smirked and then motioned to the bartender, “I’ll take a Shiner.”

  Another compliment? She wasn’t sure how to react to that. She should probably run just like he’d mentioned but her feet didn’t move. She looked him over. His five o’clock shadow was gone which lessened some of the bad boy edge but not nearly enough.

  “You get that tire fixed today?”

  “Yes, I dropped the Audi off with Bert this morning and picked it up on my way to the church.”

  “Bert had a tire in stock?”

  “No I think he sent BJ over to Amarillo to pick one up.”

  He raised one eyebrow as he leaned an elbow against the bar, “Talk about service, last time I needed a tire the old bastard made me wait nearly a week until it shipped in.”

  “I told him cost wasn’t a problem.”

  “Oh I’ll just bet you did.”

  His eyes narrowed for a split second and she felt the old familiar embarrassment creep up her spine. Most of the people in Fate assumed she was rich. The kids at school had often called her a trust fund baby though she didn’t really have one.

  And she hadn’t been rich, her family had money but not nearly as much as people thought. Now that she had a good job and a steady income she could splurge on things like the Audi but she shouldn’t have brought up money, not in Fate and not to one of the West sons who no doubt was thinking how his family should’ve had the money that came from the Montgomery Oaks land instead.

  “Or maybe you walked in there wearing this pretty little dress…” His easy smile returned as he reached out a finger and traced a line over her hip, “I know I’d probably drive to Amarillo to get you a tire if you asked real nice in this.”

  Or maybe he wasn’t thinking that, she knew she wasn’t thinking about it now. Oh, her body practically hummed and all thoughts of money dissipated. All thoughts in general dissipated, all of them except how his unexpected touch sent a tingling warmth through her veins. She fought to make her brain work.

  “Because you’d feel sorry for me walking around town looking like a traffic cone?”

  He chuckled, the sound deep and heady. She liked that sound. It did strange things to unexpected parts of her body.

  “Sure, let’s say that’s why.” His eyes met hers, “How about a dance Bluebell?”

  She wanted to say yes which meant she should definitely say no. He was too good-looking with his chiseled jaw and dark hair. He was just so damn big and manly, so unlike the men she’d been dating who were safe. That’s why she was so unreasonably attracted to him when she knew absolutely nothing about him. That had to be it.

  “I don’t think I can.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “I’m pretty sure if I raise my arms, the good people of Fate will get more of a show than they’re expecting.”

  He grinned and glanced down to where her breasts spilled over the top of the heart shaped neckline, “I guess you’ll just have to stand real close to me then to make sure it stays up.”

  She laughed despite herself, “Well aren’t you just the gentlemen cowboy, first you changed my tire and now you’re offering to help me keep my dress on. Keep it up and I’ll owe you a lot more than one.”

  “That’s what I’m counting on.” His eyes flashed as he reached for her hand and pulled the cup of wine she’d all but forgotten away. He set it on the bar along with his beer before his big hand took hers and he tugged her towards the dance floor, “Come on now, you do owe me after all.”

  The band was playing a slow Rascal Flatts song and she did just as they described and melted. He pulled her close and his other arm wrapped around her waist, his big hand settling against the small of her back. Without thinking she slid her hands up his broad chest and over the hard ridge of his wide shoulders, around his neck. Her dress stayed put but he pulled her tight against his chest anyway and she let him.

  “One dance and then we’re square?”

  “Not hardly baby-doll. There’s still that issue of the test drive you owe me.”

  Her one track mind did a little shimmy of anticipation. She had to stop thinking like a horny teenager. He said test drive he didn’t say hook up. She needed to think with her brain and not her libido.

  “You might have to think of another way for me to pay you back. I’m leaving first thing tomorrow morning. I have to get back to work.”

  “I’m sure I can think of something.” His breath brushed her temple when he spoke, “What do you do when you’re not playing bridesmaid Barbie Bluebell?”

  Thankful for the change in topic she sighed and relaxed a little in his arms, “I’m a freelance journalist. Right now I’m contracted with the Denver Journal-Constitution.”

  “Why freelance?”

  “I’m not very good at staying in one spot. My daddy says I don’t have roots so I just keep rolling.” She breathed him in and he smelled like a man should, musky and strong.

  “Course you have roots. You’re here aren’t ya?”

  A smile tugged at her lips as she leaned back to look into his face, “I guess I never thought about it like that.”

  Prisms of light cut through the dimness and highlighted a smooth cheekbone as he shrugged, “It’s your home.”

  “I’m not sure Fate’s felt like home since my mama died.”

  She wasn’t sure why she admitted something like that to a virtual stranger but she didn’t regret the words when she felt him tighten his hold on her waist, his thumb brushing back and forth in a reassuring gesture. It was probably just the wine. Yeah, that had to be it.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. She passed away a long time ago. I was only five
.”

  “Do you remember her?”

  “Bits and pieces here and there.” His knee brushed her bare leg.

  He was silent for a long second as they swayed to the music. Her fingers naturally played with the short hairs at the base of his skull. There was something about being in the arms of a big strong man that made her feel safe despite herself.

  “Damn, that’s sad.” He finally sighed, “I guess we were lucky to have my dad as long as we did.”

  Her stomach clenched. She’d forgotten he’d lost a parent too. Something they had in common. Not just small talk.

  “How old were you when he passed?

  “Eighteen.”

  “And you took over the ranch?”

  “Yep. I woke up and went to work, been doing it ever since.”

  “You like working the ranch?”

  “Most days.”

  “Today?”

  “Today was a good day but yesterday was better.”

  “Why was yesterday better?”

  “I got to change a pretty girl’s tire.” He chuckled.

  She bit off a smile, “It was a pretty good day.”

  His hand lazily stroked her back as the song ended and another began. Neither of them moved away. The new song was something by Tim McGraw. It was a hair’s breath faster but they didn’t speed up. They just swayed.

  Zach’s touch spread warmth through her veins and down into a curling pit low in her stomach. She settled firmly against his chest, giving in to the security he probably had no idea he was offering. She’d blame the wine if she had to but the truth was she’d felt alone all day and she was tired of being alone so for the length of the song she was going to enjoy this. He was all firm, hard muscle and it felt good to be held by a big capable man.

  “Mmm, you feel good Bluebell.” His voice was husky when it came from near her ear.

  So did he. She should probably move away from him but he was a little like a drug and she didn’t want to. She liked the way he felt against her, liked that purely masculine smell that marked him as all man. She liked the way he touched her and her body reacted. It had been a very long time since she reacted that way to a simple touch, far too long.

 

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