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

by Amie Stuart

  “You had a mother you couldn’t live down, and I had one I couldn’t live up to.”

  Grinning, she quirked an eyebrow and pointed one long pink fingernail at me as if to say ‘You got it!’. “Tell me.”

  With a sigh, I shook my head while trying to imagine what it must have been like for her growing up. While I’d been forced to learn flower arranging. “It’s not important.”

  “It is to you, though. Get it out of your system—once and for all.”

  I nodded in understanding, while trying to figure out where to start. “That dress you had on Saturday would have given my mother a stroke.”

  She winked and grinned. “My sister bought it for me. I can see if she can find one like it—but not maternity.”

  “I used to be a size ten!” I shook my head, still trying to figure out where to start. “Even that wasn’t small enough. Gawd, if I had a quarter for every time she said ‘You are a reflection on me!’ I could retire to a private island.” My size attracted enough attention—don’t attract the wrong kind. What the fuck ever, Mom. “If I had a quarter for every time I heard, ‘You have such a pretty face’, I could hire a dozen cabana boys to wait on me hand and foot for life.”

  “Maybe having a drunk for a mother wasn’t so bad after all,” Betti said, giggling.

  Now it was my turn to snort. I continued with a laugh, trying to put into words what I’d never even told Rowdy—or anyone else. Amazing how painless it was. “You know, I couldn’t be some newly discovered form of nutcase, just a plain old by-the-book people-pleaser.”

  Just then the door opened, letting in the momentary whine of a blow dryer as Cassi joined us.

  “Is it gossip-time?” She grinned, tossing her long, eggplant-colored hair from side to side before plopping down on the coffee table and holding out a basket of nail polish. “Choose. You can talk while I do your toes.”

  I reached in and, without hesitating, picked out Candy Apple Red and handed it to her.

  “Nice,” Betti murmured.

  “Continue.” Cassi waved a hand, then pulled two sets of toe wedges from the basket and worked them between my toes she’d prepped earlier.

  “Go on,” Betti coaxed.

  I watched Cassi polish, her dark head bent over my toes, and suddenly I couldn’t shut up. “About five years ago—I can’t believe it’s been that long—I applied for grad school in New Mexico,” I sighed. “I didn’t tell anyone until I’d been accepted. Two weeks later, she introduced me to Allan.”

  “Who’s Allan?” Cassi asked, never missing a beat.

  “My ex-fiancée. He’s a lawyer.” She looked up at me and we curled our lips at each other, then giggled.

  “It was like something out of a gangster movie. I knew I’d been set up. I guess I’m just dumb about men. But my mom gushed all over him. Mom brought him home to meet my sister, or at least, that's what she said, anyway. In hindsight, I'm not so sure.” I made a bad medicine face at Betti.

  “And?” Cassi coaxed.

  “He waved a three-karat diamond in my face, and I said yes.” Despite the fact that I’d been reduced to faking orgasms, my inner child caved. “Mom’s approval trumped good sex.”

  “Nothing trumps good sex!” Betti announced. “Next rule: Good Sex Is Important! I think that’s even in the Constitution.”

  I quirked an eyebrow at her while trying not to laugh. Heaven help me if I messed Cassi up.

  “It should be illegal to have bad sex,” Cassi added, snickering. “So then what happened?”

  “I figured so what if he’s a little boring...and kind of...very arrogant. He used to give the worst compliments: “I’ll love her even after she has kids and needs liposuction.”

  “Deni, she works in room two down the hall.” Betti quirked an eyebrow at me. “She knows people. And by people, I mean the kind of people who can make people disappear.”

  I snorted, and then got so tickled at Betti, who got so tickled Cassi had to stop. I knew exactly what kind of people Betti was referring to. The kind who would break Allan’s kneecaps for cheap.

  “The best one was when Emerald and I beat him at tennis: ‘Sweetheart, you have great legs, but maybe tennis skirts just aren’t your thing.’ Asshole. He was mean, and I just let him get away with it. I’m not sure what makes me madder; how he could be so casual about it, or that I let him.” I got the giggles again at what I knew was coming. “I mean, I had plenty of opportunities to take jabs at his failings in bed—but I didn’t.”

  Poor Betti ended up needing an emergency bathroom break. On her way back, she stopped at the refrigerator by the door and pulled out three bottles of water, tossing me one. “Alright, alright, what happened next?”

  “I became Cinderella, and she became the Fairy Godmother From Hell. She planned my wedding...right down to the cut of my panties.”

  “You should have given her wine not water,” Cassi teased.

  “I was nearly as big as the Cinderella in the Macy’s Parade in that dress—I swear to Gawd! It was the biggest, ugliest, dress I ever saw.” White satin with yards of tulle, a six foot train. “So help me, if I ever got the chance to do it again, I’d do it right—and elope!”

  Cassi and I high-fived each other.

  “Of course, when he stood me up at the altar—”

  “Uh-uhhhhhh!” Cassi looked up at me wide-eyed and mouth hanging open, her hand poised above my foot.

  I nodded, looking down in time to see a big red splotch of polish land on my toe and run. “Toe!” I pointed, nodding vigorously as Betti made to stand up. Uh-huh!

  “Where you going?” I asked as Cassi cleaned up her mess.

  “To get Deni!”

  “Oh, sit down. He got his!”

  “I hope he got the clap.” She sank back down and propped her feet on the table next to mine.

  “Y'all keep it up and I’ll never get her toes finished.”

  “He ran off with a stripper from his bachelor party.” I giggled, recalling how Harv, Allan’s best man and a complete nitwit, had held up his cell phone and shouted across the church that my groom was on his way to St. Kitts. “That stupid dress saved me from a nasty fall.” I nodded eyes wide.

  “You passed out?” Betti asked.

  “Cold!”

  “Did he get the clap?” Cassi asked, blowing on my toes.

  “Divorced! And she took half of everything.”

  “There is a God.” She grinned and winked at me.

  “And I gained weight.”

  “Well honey, pack it up.” Betti lightly punched my arm. “You’re done. You survived and lived to tell the tale.”

  “And you can laugh at his sorry loser ass,” Cassi added.

  “You’re right, I did and I can.” I smiled over at Betti and she smiled back. “After all, I can lose weight, he can’t get back half his assets. Serves him right for thinking with his dick,” I snickered.

  Betti patted my shoulder. “Now, if only you can survive the last of Cassi Girl’s pedicure.”

  “Watch it, woman.”

  “Alright, alright! Since I never finished my rules, I’m gonna skip to the most important one, just in case no one’s ever clued you in,” she said, suddenly all business. “Love Doesn’t Equal Happiness. And let me add, marriage is hard work. Ty and I work real hard at it. We’re a lot alike on the inside, but really different in how we deal with the world.”

  I swallowed hard and nodded, Robbie’s words about Betti and Ty losing their first child replaying themselves in my head.

  She sighed, her serious expression clearing. “Okay, this last one’s nearly as important. Ready?”

  I nodded.

  “Never—Ever—Say The “L” Word During Sex.”

  Cassi giggled, but never looked up as she finished putting polish on my last toe.

  The lecture continued. We covered everything from lipstick to lingerie to high heels.

  Every woman needed a black bra, no matter how big her boobs. By the time I left, my hair was fluffy a
nd swingy and had an actual style for the first time in three years. She’d trimmed the back, given me some height in the crown, but the front was still chin length and swung in chunky layers every time I turned my head, which I did frequently to admire the eggplant-colored highlights she’d applied.

  I had strict orders to spend Thursday morning at the mall shopping for said black bra and matching panties and a sexy top. She’d given me the name of a store that carried larger sizes—Leather and Lace. And orders to practice my walking and appear at the dancehall Thursday night in my new gear, high heels and the woo-woo red lipstick I’d bought before my birthday date with Rowdy.

  I was on a mission.

  BIG GIRLS DO

  ROWDY HATED THE mall—would rather have been covered in honey and laid out over an ant pile—but he promised Susie he’d go pick up her birthday present for Rene, and gotten up early to beat the crowds.

  The party was Saturday, Susie had orders being delivered and couldn’t leave the bar. He’d tried to get her to swap with him, saying he’d take care of her orders, but she’d been adamant, he needed to pick up Rene’s charm bracelet from the jeweler. They’d called, it was ready and she didn’t want to wait until the last minute. She’d been pretty wound up, rambling on and on about all the stuff she had to get done by Saturday.

  He’d finally given in just to calm her down.

  Parking at the wrong end of the mall only added to his frustrations. He scowled at the huge, nearly unreadable map just inside the mall’s doors and kept walking toward a coffee shop. Damn maps weren’t meant for normal humans to read.

  Cup of coffee in hand, he trudged to the other end of the mall and up the escalator, only to end up lost again. Susie owed him big-time for this. He found the right hallway, and his pace slowed as he passed a chain lingerie store. Leather and Lace’s intriguing display of latex and leather undergarments brought the first smile of the day to his face.

  Then a woman shopping caught his eye. She held up two very pretty black bras. Something about her tickled his memory, and he paused to watch as she held up first one bra then the other. The first was all lace; the second smooth black satin. Both would contrast nicely with her pale skin. Hung on a rack in front of her was a sheer black blouse.

  To his disappointment, she set the lacy bra down. Only to brush her hair out of her face and retrieve it, but the damage was done. He’d gotten a good look at the short, curvy brunette with her creamy pale skin.

  Jade. Her hair was different. And she was shopping for lingerie. Obviously, she’d moved forward, but so had he.

  Hadn’t he?

  Monday night’s fiasco with Pauline and Tiffany had only firmed up his decision to swear off women for a while. A long while. At least until he figured out what the hell he was doing. Now, he could literally feel himself wavering.

  Rowdy couldn’t resist. He stepped in the store, thankful they didn’t have a chime to announce his arrival, and moved toward a sale rack in the front corner. A mannequin decked out in black lace sat on top of the next rack, providing cover as he skimmed through bustiers—with and without cups—in everything from rhinestone studded velour to pink satin, and a wide selection of thongs. A white lace one made him look twice, but his ultimate goal was watching Jade shop, and his height gave him a big advantage. She approached the counter with both bras, as well as the black shirt, and talked to the clerk; a short, very buxom blond with dimples.

  The clerk, complete with studded, red dog collar and leather vest, pointed to a shelf behind her. Shoes. A pair of strappy black heels. Jade disappeared from view, then reappeared, sauntering between the counter and the middle aisle. He stood, white lace panties in hand, and stared as she walked back and forth, obviously enjoying the shoes from the occasional giggle and the smile on her face. She disappeared from view again, then popped back up, setting the high-heeled sandals on the counter.

  He didn’t care.

  Scowling, Rowdy hung up the tiny white thong and slipped out of the store before she spotted him. He didn’t care why she was buying black lace or who she was buying it for. He stalked across the wide hall to the jewelry store a few doors down from the lingerie store and finished his errand, tapping his foot impatiently as the elderly female clerk gift wrapped it for him.

  BY THE TIME ROWDY reached the dancehall at six that evening, his day had gone from bad to worse. Nothing specific, and nothing he could put his finger on, but he refused to give Jade credit for ruining his day. Another letter from Reverend Sister Charlene pushed him from irritated to downright irate by the time he pulled open the heavy metal door. Then, in the middle of warming up, Jessa decided to coddle him.

  “You alright, hon?” She flashed big blue eyes full of concern at him.

  He stopped playing long enough to count to ten before answering. “Fine,” he growled.

  Lucky for him the dancehall was nearly empty but for a few hardcore regulars who always liked to get an early start on their drinking, the waitresses, and a group of women from Betti’s hair salon.

  A quarter of the way into the first set, he heard a ruckus from the direction of Betti’s table and stared in shock as Betti, Cassi and Tara stood and hugged Jade like she was their long lost sister.

  Jade in her sheer black blouse. Well, it was black; he assumed she was wearing the same one she’d been looking at earlier today. He was so distracted, wondering what bra she’d chosen, he forgot he was supposed to be singing backup. Thank God this wasn’t one of the rare occasions he played lead guitar.

  As the song ended and they prepared to play the next tune, Jessa snapped her fingers to catch his attention. He frowned over at her, then at Zack, and finally Ty, who shrugged from behind his drums, a questioning look on his face. “What?” Rowdy demanded.

  Jessa motioned him near, and he met her halfway between their mikes. “Do you need a break already?”

  “I’m just having an off night. Is that okay? Aren’t I entitled? Jesus!”

  She reached up and gently patted his arm. “Of course, hon. This just isn’t like you. I was a little worried. I see your lady friend showed up,” she added with a smile. “Maybe that'll cheer you up.”

  “She’s not my friend,” he snapped, stepping away.

  “Oh!” Her dark eyebrows rose to disappear under her bangs. “Well, I guess that’s a good thing...considering that tall drink of water hittin’ on her, huh?” She patted his arm even as he whirled around to see some dime-store cowboy leaning over Jade. If it had been later in the evening and not still so light in the bar, he never would have been able to see the tall, slick looking wanna-be lean over and whisper in her ear. And rest his hand on her shoulder.

  Jessa greeted the crowd, but before she could get any further, Rowdy spoke up. “Hillbilly Shoes”. Bo Foster, you here?”

  Bo shouted from the back of the bar, while Jessa glared at him. She kept on with her banter until Bo joined them and had tuned his fiddle, then they played the raucous country song, sung by Rowdy.

  When they were done, Jessa started up again. “Y’all know what? I think I’m gonna let the guys run the show tonight. I’ll be back in a while, y’all try not to tear the place up, okay?”

  Great, he’d pissed all over Jessa’s Post Toasties.

  “What’s up next, boss?” Zack gave him a hard look as Jessa stepped off the stage. Rowdy frowned at Zack, who waved a hand as if to say “speak up.” He was in an ornery mood. “Trying to Survive”.

  After he finished singing about how to get through when the one you want doesn’t want you, Ty spoke up. “My turn. This is kinda fun.”

  They did a couple of old Travis Tritt numbers, which made Betti and her friends whoop and holler a bit. Rowdy couldn’t stop himself. He had to look. Jade's cowboy companion was gone, but worse yet, Jessa now sat beside her.

  Zack and Bo went back and forth for a while, doing everything from Tim McGraw to Asleep at the Wheel. Rowdy finally relaxed a bit and enjoyed playing just for the sake of playing. Which made taking a break that
much harder. Zack and Ty took off for their wives, Bo disappeared into the crowd and Rowdy headed for the bar.

  He was sipping a beer and watching Toni work when someone tapped on his shoulder. Jade. He stood there staring at Toni, who quirked an eyebrow at him. Should he turn around?

  “I’d like to talk to you,” Jade shouted to be heard over the music.

  Rowdy tipped his bottle at Toni and forced himself to turn around. Black satin. And her lips were really red. His eyes had immediately gone to her chest before drifting up to her face. He felt the first prickles of sweat under his arms as his eyes drifted downward again, taking in the hands on her hips, the snug red pants and black high-heeled sandals. The sheer blouse that showed off her generous chest. “So talk.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Fine. Apology accepted.”

  “What?” she shouted with a frown.

  It wasn’t that loud in the bar. “I said, fine!”

  “I can't hear you!” She pointed to her ear for emphasis, her lips twitching in a tiny smile.

  Fine, he’d play along. Rowdy took her elbow in a firm grip and started toward the beer garden doors. But no matter how much he tugged, she refused to move any faster than somewhere between a walk and a sashay, a smile curving her kiss-me red lips.

  A group of partying tourists stood cluttering up the doorway to the beer garden, including the wanna-be who’d been talking to Jade earlier.

  “Hey, Jade.” The sound of him greeting Jade was worse than nails down a chalkboard.

  “Hi, Pete.” And her greeting, dripping Texas charm, was lighter fluid on Rowdy’s temper.

  Rowdy turned in time to watch her flutter her fingers at “Pete,” and gave her elbow a little hurry-up tug. She sashayed a few more steps until she was even with Rowdy, then smiled up at him. He kissed her. Right there in front of Pete the Happy Tourist, he jerked her to him and forced her mouth open beneath his. She reciprocated, teasing his tongue and knocking his hat off as she ran her fingers through his hair.