ONCE IN A BLUE MOON (BLUEBONNET, TEXAS Book 2)

by Stuart, Amie

  "So. You got a ring?"

  "It’s old." Delaney grinned.

  "It’s an antique—" Ty kicked her, catching her shin with his boot. Tim laughed, nearly choking on his dinner while Delaney jumped, frowning at them both.

  "—And different like Betti."

  "Would you like to join your niece across the road?" Jerrod’s eyebrows rose, wrinkling his forehead.

  "Sorry, Ty. Daddy."

  Ty smothered a chuckle and dug into his dinner before his mother started in again. Maybe if he kept his mouth full, she’d leave him in peace.

  "Where is it?"

  Then again, maybe not.

  "I left it at home." Only a few more bites left. He didn’t know how much more he could stand.

  "Maggie, he’s done this before," Jerrod admonished.

  "I know, but this is different—with her condition." She looked like she’d choked on the words.

  "I know, Momma." Ty didn’t want anyone seeing Bettina’s ring until she did. Maybe he should have gotten her a new ring. If she didn’t like it, he figured they had time to exchange it before Monday. "I need to straighten up the house before she gets here."

  "You’ll bring her over." Momma eyed him as he stood and slid past her.

  As if he’d try to get out of it. Putting his plate in the sink, he said, "Yes, ma’am. We’ll see you about seven-thirty."

  He loved his mother but she could be a first class nag. He felt a little queasy at the thought of Bettina and Momma coming face to face and wished he hadn’t eaten so much. He just hoped she hadn’t been saving her temper for Bettina.

  He snagged his jacket off the coat rack and walked the short distance home, shivering in the thin denim. The temperature had dropped when the sun went down. He’d have to dig out his heavy Carhartt soon. God, he was tired.

  Living alone meant straightening up took no time at all, and it helped him burn off some of his nervous energy. Ty breezed through the house, started a load of laundry, then tackled the dishes. He was elbow-deep in suds when the front door slammed.

  Tim breezed through the swinging door, helped himself to a beer and sat, watching him. "Are you sure about this?"

  "Don’t fucking start with me, Tim!" He was on the defensive but enough was enough. Grabbing a dishtowel, he wiped his hands and turned to face his brother. Speaking of brothers he needed to let Zack and Zander know about the wedding.

  Not that Zander would bother to make the drive down from Dallas. A wedding wouldn’t even register on the radar with him.

  They’d never been close. Not like he was with Tim. They’d been five when Tim, who was Mom and Dad’s godson, came to stay the night one night and never left. His parents had died in a house fire the same summer Momma was been pregnant with Zack.

  "If you don’t wanna do this, I’ll talk to her." Tim straddled a kitchen chair and sipped his beer. He was the only reason Ty kept beer around. He’d ask questions if he didn’t at least find a six pack in the fridge when he came over. The medication didn’t allow Ty to drink and no one but his father even knew he took it. Some things you couldn’t tell even your best friend.

  "I don’t need you to handle things for me! She’s having my kid. The one thing Rhea would never give me and Bettina wants it! As strange as this sounds, Tim, I do wanna do this. And I’m not turning my back on her. Not after what Dad did to Delaney!" He leaned against the counter, arms crossed. He expected his dad to try and handle things—Dad always did—but lately Zack and Tim had gotten in on the act, too.

  As if he couldn’t deal or something.

  "Fine." Tim held his hands up as a sign of peace and stood to leave. "I offered. I don’t want to argue. If there’s anything I can do, let me know."

  "I’m sorry I snapped."

  "It’s alright." Tim grinned, slapping him on the back. "Ty’s gonna be a daddy."

  He grinned back, giving into another twinge of excitement at the thought of becoming a father. "Yeah."

  "I’m outta here. Enough teasin’ you. I need to head home and deal with that daughter of mine," Tim groaned.

  "Don’t be too hard on her," Ty pleaded.

  "She just can’t go around acting the bitch all the time. God, maybe she’s got PMS again." He shuddered and Ty chuckled.

  "She needs a mom." Ty gave his brother a pointed look, complete with eyebrows raised. "Heard from Toni?"

  "No." Tim’s lips thinned and he focused his attention on his beer. He’d been awful quiet and withdrawn—in other words un-Tim-like—since his girlfriend had up and left town without a word a few weeks ago. "You need me, call." He hugged his brother and disappeared through the swinging door.

  "Betti’s here!" Tim shouted, slamming the door behind him.

  She was early.

  Chapter Nine

  CRAZY

  "How was the rest of your day?" I blew a curl from my face and smiled up at Ty from the walkway in front of his house, my false bravado sapping the last of my energy.

  You couldn't live in Bluebonnet and not drive by the Rockin B Ranch at least once. Some of the best make-out spots in the county were located out the roads that ran around their property. But I’d never been on their land—cows, horses, large houses with wrap-around porches and lots and lots of fence. After scrambling my whole life to get the hell out of Bluebonnet, I now found myself in a position to never leave.

  It was my worst nightmare come true. Talk about being careful what you wish for. And I couldn’t even admit to myself how nervous I was.

  "Good. Um, I went shopping with Delaney. You look tired."

  "Yeah. I am. And starving. That Chinese food was hours ago." Wondering who Delaney was, I climbed the three short steps and followed him inside.

  The first thing I noticed was how white everything was. White couch, winter white Berber carpet, white sheers at the windows, white walls, whitewashed entertainment center, silver television, blonde swinging door. Not a drop of color anywhere. Yuck!

  "Who’s Delaney?" I asked softly, still stunned by my surroundings while Ty’s next words caught my attention.

  "About dinner..."

  "Please God tell me you’re gonna feed me something, honey!" I was whining and I knew it, but lunch had been ages ago and I’d been on my feet way too many hours.

  "Delaney’s my baby sister. Macaroni and cheese. That’s all I know how to cook." Ty nodded and offered an apologetic shrug. "But Momma wants you to come over."

  "Your mom?" I swallowed and forced a smile, stifling another attack of nerves.

  "Yeah, she saved you a plate. We had meatloaf." He looked as anxious as a child waiting to be scolded.

  "Alright," I sighed, wondering why I didn’t know he had a sister and hoping like hell his mother wouldn’t fuss too much. I was too tired to deal with Maggie Boudreauxe’s temper.

  "Sit, please. I have tea? Do you want..." He stood over me, rambling.

  I stepped down into the living room and gingerly perched on the pristine, alabaster colored couch ramble. "No caffeine, but I’m fine, thanks. I didn’t know you had a sister." The material felt like suede. How the hell did Ty keep it clean?

  "Delaney. She’s Dad’s—it’s a long story." He shrugged. "The short version is, her mom died a few months ago from leukemia, and now she lives with Mom and Dad."

  "That’s awful about her mother." A part of me couldn’t believe his mom had even allowed it.

  "Delaney’s great." He grinned, brushing his bangs back from his forehead. "I’ll be right back."

  He was close to his sister—duly noted.

  The dimpled, boyish grin had caught me off guard and showed another side to his personality. The easy-going man he must have been at one time. What had happened to change him? Ty still seemed nervous—off balance—and I’d worried all day if he’d back out. Not that I’d blame him if he did, but...I’d worried. I’d be fine if he did. My heart would heal and all that B. S. I’d have our baby; something of his. Oh now this was just gettin’ pitable.

  Then again, maybe
I should be the one to back out.

  "I got you something," he said, returning from the bedroom.

  Peeking over his shoulder, I saw the white carpet continued in there. Inwardly I shuddered. The place definitely needed brightening up. "Are you feeling better?"

  And a part of me still couldn’t believe I was sitting in his living room. Had agreed to marry him. That he’d actually be mine in just a few days. My inner cynic refused to celebrate until after we said "I do." Then, it would be real. Tangible.

  Then I’d believe.

  "Still tire but yeah, a little. I am, sorta." He stopped about three feet from where I sat and said, "I’m gonna be a dad." He chuckled, pushing his hair off his forehead again. A nervous habit?

  I returned his smile, softening at the excitement in his voice. A mirror of the same excitement I’d felt the first time I heard the baby’s heartbeat.

  He took a deep breath, then sat beside me on the couch. His words snapped me from the daydream I’d been drifting in and out of all day. "I suppose we should make this official."

  "Official?"

  Ty held out his hand, motioning for mine. His calluses were rough against my palm. "Your nails are purple."

  "Cassi’s idea." I laughed softly, my insides melting. I knew what was coming and was touched. At his excitement over being a father and his desire to do the right thing, despite his obvious nervousness.

  "I hope you like this. I saw it today, and well, it just kinda looked like you." He slipped the ring hidden in his right hand on my finger. The elaborate white-gold band was a perfect fit in more ways than one.

  "Oh, Ty!" I blinked back my sudden tears, admiring the most beautiful ring I’d ever seen. A beautiful solitaire with diamond accents and a hand engraved band. I lived for different, unusual or quirky, and he’d noticed that, then taken the time to make sure I had a ring he thought I’d like—elaborate, girly and one of a kind.

  The ring was a work of art.

  "Do you really like it?" he asked, his voice low. "If you want a brand new—"

  "No! This is perfect, Ty. How could I not?" I gushed. "Beautiful. The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen!"

  I threw my arms around him, pulling his head down to mine. The lava pit low in my belly begin to roil as we kissed. I moaned, teasing him with my tongue and liquid heat seeped through my veins, eating away at the shell around my heart. I allowed myself to believe for just a little while. To feel protected as he drew me closer and kissed me back, his lips smooth and warm against mine.

  His hand slid up my side to cup one breast through my blouse, his fingers brushing across an oversensitive nipple. I arched my back even as he moaned low in his throat and we fell back against the cushions. His lips grew more insistent, more forceful, until I couldn’t think.

  Before we could finish our little celebration the phone on the sofa table behind us rang, jerking us back to reality. Ty jumped as if he’d been scalded and grabbed it.

  "Hello. Yeah, Momma...I was giving Bettina her ring. We’ll be right there. Yes ma’am, right now."

  He hung up, stood and held out his hand to me. I grasped his fingers, giving them a small squeeze of reassurance, then pulled myself up. But the possible upcoming showdown left me weak in the knees.

  "She wants us."

  I smoothed my blouse and rubbed my lips together, only to discover Ty’s eyes on my mouth. In my best show of bravado, I quipped, "I sure hope she feeds me before she executes me."

  Ty chuckled and led me out of the house.

  "Ty." I glanced up at him as we walked in the dusky evening light. "Why did you cut my grass?"

  "I-I’m not sure," he said softly, tightening his grip on my waist as I stumbled on the gravel road.

  I didn’t understand it but I didn’t push. That warm easy feeling was back in the pit of my stomach. The one that lulled me with promises of security and strong shoulders to lean on.

  But first I had a redheaded, green-eyed dragon to slay. I was thankful for Ty’s grip on me.

  I didn’t even get a chance to stop and gawk the wall of family pictures just inside the front door. The living room furniture looked barely used, the walls freshly painted and the carpet new. An old, highly-polished cherry wood dinette set sat along the far wall. And through an arched doorway was the kitchen.

  Jerrod and Maggie Boudreaux sat at an long wooden table that had obviously seen better days, judging from the scars on its legs. With his rugged face and faded blond hair, Jerrod could have been anyone’s father—anyone’s but mine. But jeans and a flannel shirt sure didn’t make his wife any less intimidating.

  I raised my chin a notch and smiled when I caught her checking me out also. Nervous maybe, but I’d be damned if I’d let her know that. The mysterious Delaney was nowhere in sight.

  "Sit." Maggie gave me a frosty smile, then bustled around heating up my dinner and putting on a pot of coffee.

  I settled in the chair Ty indicated, grateful when he sat beside me.

  "What’s for dessert?" Ty draped an arm around my shoulder. A gesture Maggie’s perceptive gaze didn’t miss. I had no right to the Boudreauxe’s eldest son. I was an impostor. Any second now I expected her to give me the tongue-lashing of my life.

  "I didn’t make dessert. Jessa did, and you know she makes two of everything." Looking at Jerrod, she winked. "It’s tiramisu."

  "I’ll have mine and Delaney’s," he replied with a grin.

  "Shame on you!" Maggie ignored her husband’s frown and handed the first plate to Ty.

  "I heard that, Daddy." The mysterious Delaney practically danced through the doorway, tugging at her father’s ear as she passed by.

  Jerrod just chuckled and leaned out of her reach, evidently not afraid.

  I sat back in my chair, amazed. It was almost like watching the Cleavers.

  "Jessa said if you eat mine, she’ll skin you." Delaney poured a glass of milk and set it in front of Ty.

  Make that the Cleavers with spice.

  "Bettina, don’t mind them." Maggie set Jerrod’s dessert in front of him.

  "Sit, Maggie. I’ll get ours. That way you can talk." The smile Delaney shot my way was open and friendly. Despite having a different mother, the family resemblance was uncanny. Delaney had her father’s deep blue eyes, and even with her curly red hair I could see the similarities between her and Ty. "Did you see her ring?"

  Ty nudged me and offered me a drink.

  "Water." I smiled my thanks and watched as he got my drink and a plate from the microwave, doing my best to not outright stare. Everything still felt surreal and the Boudreaux’s were nothing like I’d imagined.

  "Let me see." Maggie sat down across from me and held out her hand. I held out my left hand while she continued to speak. "My, my Tyrell, you outdid yourself. This is just beautiful."

  "Told you he knew what he was doing." Jerrod grinned and turned his attention back to his dessert.

  Ty set my water and dinner in front of me, giving me a tiny smile. There was no way I could eat all this despite my watering mouth and empty stomach.

  My giggle died a quick death as Maggie’s faded. Here it comes.

  "Bettina, with the wedding being rushed and all—"

  "Oh—" Jerrod interrupted her, his fork halfway to his mouth, "—Zack called and said Reverend Michaelson could be here Monday but needed to know what time."

  "Here?" I gave into the urge and smell of food, taking a bite of meatloaf, then had to smother a small moan of pleasure.

  "Who called Zack?" Ty asked.

  "I did," Maggie said. "Reverend Dimitty was busy, but Zack said his minister could marry you. You two can get married in the living room or on the side porch—and we could do a pot luck afterward. Not very fancy, but better than, say, the dancehall."

  I wouldn’t have to get married in a bar or the beer garden outside. November in Texas meant we could easily go from eighty degrees to flash flood and freezing rain in twenty-four hours. "That’d be wonderful. Thank you! Ty, is that alright with y
ou?"

  "Whatever you ladies decide works for me." His quiet tone smothered some of my enthusiasm.

  "What time?" Maggie asked.

  "Around eleven? Then the potluck could be for lunch."

  "Perfect. Eat," Maggie ordered. "That’s my future granddaughter you’re carrying."

  "Margaret?!" Jerrod paused mid-bite and gave his wife a shocked look.

  "Hush, you old coot. I can dream if I want."

  I giggled then settled in once and for all to eat as Ty devoured his dessert. He’d apparently inherited his father’s sweet tooth, and I filed that away for future reference.

  While the men listened, we plotted the wedding like experienced thieves pulling off the heist of a lifetime. Finally, with a laugh, Jerrod stood and offered up one final quip about the fate of the free world being in good hands, grabbed a cigar from the cabinet over the stove and then led Ty outside. I watched him disappear with a sinking heart, sure now Maggie’d let me have it. The stern look didn’t leave her face, but to my surprise, she didn’t. Maybe just this once the gods had smiled on me. At least, where she was concerned.

  "Just for the record, I don’t approve. But I won't interfere…as long as you’re good to my son. Now, relax." Her smile warmed the tiniest bit. "He’s not going anywhere."

  * * *

  "Did you ladies get everything taken care of?" Ty asked on the way back to my car.

  "I think we did. All I need to do is double check the flowers tomorrow...and find a dress, of course." I shivered under my leather coat.

  "Good, good. That’s good."

  I turned to face him once we reached the car. "Ty, are you sure? That you want to do this? I don’t want a divorce six or nine months from now."

  "I’m positive." One minute he seemed all on board, the next things felt all squirrelly.

  Despite the almost full moon, I couldn’t tell if he was lying. Even as I melted against him in a kiss that left me weak-kneed, I worried. And shoved a boat-load of doubts to the back of my mind. I wanted him; he wanted our baby.

  If I were a woman for tears, I might have broke down crying on his chest. If I were smart, I’d go home, pack my bags and get the hell outta Dodge.