ONCE IN A BLUE MOON (BLUEBONNET, TEXAS Book 2) (8 page)

He reached for her again, then pulled away at the stern expression on her face. "Marry me!"

Chapter Seven

WOMEN IN LOVE DO STUPID THINGS

My heart stopped, then decided I was running the Kentucky Derby. My anger evaporated and shock took its place. Unsure of what to say, I clamped my lips shut and chose not to speak.

"I...I want you to marry me. That’s my baby too, Bettina." Ty’s quaking voice was in direct contrast to the firmness of his words. I’d swear he was scared I’d put up a fuss, and I easily could.

I must be insane to even consider..."there’s flights to Vegas every hour," the little devil on my shoulder whispered.
Oh, God.
That sounded like the voice of reason. Nice of it to check in. "Ty, marriage is a big step—"

"Believe me, I know that!" The way he said it, I felt like shouting "Amen!" Tim had mentioned their divorce had been ugly. I wondered just how ugly and briefly wished I
did
pay attention to town gossip. Ty stood and began to pace. "Look, I can’t...turn my back on my child. I won’t! It’s not fair and it’s not right. Do you understand? I wasn’t raised like that, and I refuse to do it to a child of mine!" By the time he was through, Ty stood in front of me, yelling and obviously frustration.

I stepped around the coffee table and intercepted him mid-stride. "And besides, your mom would kill you."

Whatever place he’d been in his mind, he returned at the mention of his mother. He scrubbed at his face and ran a hand through his shaggy hair. "I just want to be a daddy to our baby."

Talk about a sucker punch. The way he’d said ‘Daddy’ definitely qualified. I gently rubbed his biceps though his Wrangler workshirt and took a good look at him. Besides the utter exhaustion I saw in his face, he looked awful handsome in a starched green shirt and sharply creased jeans. I even smelled aftershave—something manly I couldn’t place. How much trouble had he gone through to see me in the middle of the day when he probably had all sorts of important ranch stuff to do? And, since Jessa had recognized me, did his family already know about the baby?

"Ty, its not that I don’t want to marry you. I just...well I agree with you. Children
do
need two parents—" 

"So, you’ll marry me?"

I looked up at him with a sigh, worried at his pale appearance and the dark circles under his eyes. I wanted to push him down on the couch, curl up in his lap and tease a smile out of him.

On the other hand, I’d always sworn to be extra careful about who I chose to spend the rest of my life with after my own parent’s marriage. Ty had made me plumb crazy. I loved him, I always had, and probably always would. I’m sure it sounded silly and juvenile but he’d always been special to me. That one hidden corner of my heart that had belonged to him since the sixth grade wouldn’t let me refuse.

And besides he’d sold me. Ty Boudreaux would never abandon his child. "I’ll marry you," I said softly, smiling up at him.

"You will?" He blinked a couple of times, then stared at me wide-eyed. Obviously in shock at how easily I’d given in.

"Yes, Ty. Isn’t that what you wanted?"
God what if he’d expected me to say no? Impossible, or he wouldn’t have pleaded his case so hard.

His nod of agreement was nervous and jerky. "When?"

"Today’s Wednesday," I stammered. I struggled to kickstart my brain, distracted at his nearness and the thought of marrying my big, sexy, solid as a rock, prince who came complete with a voice as smooth as silk sheets...and worry lines.

"What about the weekend? The sooner the better, right?"

"Are you sure that’s not too soon?" I pulled him back down on the couch beside me and gave into the urge to sit as close as I dared. As close as he’d held me earlier.

"Well, yeah."

 "I’ve missed a lot of work lately with morning sickness and I just
can’t
be gone on Saturdays. It’d take an act of God to reschedule my appointments. Sundays are fine. And the shop’s closed on Mondays. We could get married Monday, or a week from Monday." 

"What about when you have the baby? How are you gonna work?"

"I have plenty of time to book around when the baby comes, and I’d thought of putting a nursery in here after I have her—"

"Her?"

"Him, her. I don’t know, just guessing." I smiled and squeezed his fingers.

"Oh. Monday would be fine, I guess. Is five days enough time?" His voice grew stronger, as if he were adjusting to the idea of marrying me.

"I suppose, but where? Can you take care of that? Find us a judge and a place for the wedding?"

"Sure—"

"We need a license." I couldn’t seem to stop rambling which wasn’t like me at all. I took a deep breath and gave myself a mini-scolding. "We could go tomorrow about this time?"

"Sure—"

"Great. I can take care of flowers." I took another look at Ty and my voice decided to go on vacation. "Are we really doing this or am I gonna wake up there on the couch?" I didn’t expect an answer to my run-on rhetorical question and didn’t get one. "Are you sure about this, Ty?"

"Sure?"

"We don’t have to get married to be good parents to this baby—"

"I’m sure." He leaned down and kissed me, his lips barely touching mine, then cupped my face and kissed me deeper. His mouth was soft and gentle and very thorough. So much for resistance. I felt as if that kiss had pushed us over some invisible point of no return.  

Just then, Cassi came bustling through the door, a whirlwind of brightly colored silks and black and burgundy hair.

"I’m back!" she sang. Smiling, she paused in mid-stride, looked Ty over, then set our lunch on the coffee table. My stomach growled at the heavenly aroma of steamed vegetables and Cashew Chicken.

The baby strikes again.

She’d missed the earlier altercation, so I introduced her. "Oh! You’re the sixth gr...baby’s daddy!"

I wanted to crawl in a hole at her slip-up, but Ty seemed not to notice. He smiled despite his red face. I thought he looked sixteen, not like a grown man of thirty.

Cassi plopped down in the leather executive chair at my desk and rattled on, oblivious to all that Ty and I had left unsaid between us. There was still the matter of our last altercation to settle.

* * *

At his truck, I apologized for Cassi’s verbal vomit.

"That’s okay, really, but Dad’s waiting on me. I need to get going. I have to tell Mom and Dad and—"

So they didn’t know. "Wait till I get off work and we can tell them together."

"No, that’s fine. I can handle it." He opened the truck door, then turned back lightly brushing his lips against mine, almost as an afterthought.

A sweet afterthought. "Do you want to have dinner tonight?"

"Why?" Ty’s fingers danced with the keychain in his hand.

"So we can talk. We’ve got a lot to discuss, if we’re getting married in five days."

"Oh. Like wedding plans. Sorry, this is—" The keys continued to jingle. I wanted to snatch them out of his hand and hide them behind my back.

"My house. Seven-thirty? I can grab some takeout, if you want?"

"Or you can come to my house. We’re gonna be living there anyway. Right?" Ty took a deep breath, as if adjusting to the idea of marriage to me in that one moment. His smile was barely visible, but it was there.

"That’s right. I hadn’t even thought of that," I said, shaking my head at all the changes. "I don’t even know how big your house is."

"Four bedrooms. Think that’ll work?" His smile grew a bit more as if he were warming to the idea. If I didn’t know better, I’d have sworn he was teasing me. But in the bright sunlight the dark circles under his eyes were more obvious than ever.

"I’m sure that’ll be fine. Ty, are you all right? You don’t look so good."

"I didn’t...sleep." He shrugged, his voice suddenly hoarse.

"Don’t worry about my stuff. We’ll figure something out," I said softly, moving closer to hug him. To my pleasant surprise he returned the gesture and topped it with another light kiss.

As I crossed the parking lot to the salon’s front door, I licked the taste of him off my lips. Back inside, I silently strolled past Tara who was on the phone and couldn’t hound me for details like I knew she soon would.

I settled in my office, sitting on the couch eating my steamed vegetables and stealing bits of Cassi’s chicken while she tried to stab me with her little plastic fork.

My mind was a million miles away—okay more like twenty minutes away in Bluebonnet. On Ty’s kisses and everything I’d have to get done in the next couple of days. On the infamous Maggie Boudreaux, Ty’s mother and very proud matriarch of the family. Apparently someone forgot to tell her that pride was one of the seven deadly sins.
Was anger a deadly sin?
I couldn’t remember but Maggie’s temper was as legendary as her name. I could only imagine what she’d think of her baby marrying Polly Blanchard’s girl.   

"Is it me, or did he not look good?" Cassi asked, yanking me back to my office, my lunch, my wedding plans.

"He didn’t look good. He said something about a bad night." I snatched another piece of chicken.

"Poor guy," she mumbled, stabbing at my fork. "Stop that, Bettina! You always steal my chicken. Next time I’m getting you your own."

"And every time you say that...we’re getting married on Monday." Popping it in my mouth, I savored the slightly sweet sauce while narrowly avoiding another jab of Cassi’s plastic fork. "Will you be my maid of honor?"

"Oh Betti!" she squealed, nearly dumping her lunch in her lap. My chicken thieving was momentarily forgotten. "I’d love to. I’m so happy for you! When? Where? What are you going to wear? Did you ask him about your grass?" Cassi’s train of thought was much like mine—high speed.  

"Yes, and I don’t know," I sighed. I stood and hit the page button on the phone, hollering for Tara to join us. 

"I’m surprised she hadn’t been in here sooner."

"Tara? She was on the phone when I came back inside." I sat back down and nibbled on a piece of broccoli while eyeing Cassi’s eggroll. She wouldn’t give it up without a fight. "He fessed up to cutting my grass
both times
. But I forgot to ask him why."

"Aww, that’s kinda sweet."

"Are you okay?" Tara asked, entering the office a few minute later. Most of my staff leased, so they weren’t really mine. Tara, however was.

"I’m fine, but I need help.

"Restraining order?"

"She is
so
pre-law," Cassi teased, her dark eyes twinkling with laughter.

"That’s enough! I’m getting married. I need flowers and a cake by Monday. Hell, Cassi, what about food? Are you going to eat that eggroll?" I pointed at her Styrofoam dish with my fork.

"Stay out of my food!" She hunched over her lunch, guarding her egg roll like a starving she-wolf. "Why don’t you have the reception at a restaurant? Then you won’t have to worry about it?"

"You’re getting married?" Tara frowned. You’d think I’d just told her I was closing the salon.

"Yeah," I muttered while using my teeth to open a package of duck sauce.

"To that guy? The Wrangler Ad guy?" she asked, bouncing up and down on my chair.

Ah, to be nineteen again!
"Yes, Tara."

"Oh my God, Betti! He’s such a hunk—"

"And you wanted to call the police on him," I teased.

"What was I supposed to think when came in here acting like the Marlboro Man!"

"I’m pregnant, Tara."

"Ohhh, Betti!" I could see her wheels spinning at that revelation. "Girl, don’t you know what birth control is?"

"Yes, ma’am, I sure do!" Shaking my plastic fork at her I added, "Do you know what happens when you have a sinus infection and have sex, Tara?"

"Eww, what?" She wrinkled her nose and shrank away, waiting for my answer. Guess I grossed her out.

"Antibiotics and birth control pills don’t mix."

"Well, hell, even I knew that."

That earned me a smirk, and I resisted the urge to lean over and stab
her
with my plastic fork. I needed her too bad. "We used a condom, too!"

"Super-sperm," she teased, shooting Cassi a conspiratorial wink.

"Find me a florist," I began, determined to take charge of the conversation. "And a cake for Monday, and I’ll let you watch me and Wrangler Ad Boy get married. Deal?"

Tara spun around in the chair and dug in a desk drawer then sat up, pen and notepad in hand, legs crossed in her best secretary pose. "What kind of flowers? What kind of cake? Do you want a groom’s cake?"

I talked between bites of food, firing off orders like a general. "Cassie, are you going to eat your eggroll?"

 With a glare, Cassi finally handed over her damned eggroll. We hashed out the last of the wedding plans and in four bites the eggroll and last of the duck sauce were gone.

I had a long afternoon ahead and dinner at Ty’s house. I couldn’t help but wonder how his family was going to take the news. My God, I hope I’d made the right decision.

Chapter Eight

CROSSFIRE

Ty winced as the screen door squeaked in his hand. Despite the blustery winds, the weather was nice enough that Momma had left the front door open. Probably to help air out the new paint smell.

"Ty, that you, honey?" In the kitchen a chair scraped and he heard footsteps.

"Yeah, Momma." He hung his coat up, trying to figure out by their voices who else was in the kitchen.

"You’re late. What kept you?" She tucked a lock of red hair behind her ear and waited. As far as Momma was concerned, there was no particular age when she’d stop scolding you for anything.

He circled around the new living room carpet to where she stood and kissed her cheek. "I had to run an errand. Looks good in here. You and Delaney get finished?"

"Don’t try and distract me. I was worried about you." She frowned up at him, dragging him toward the kitchen by the arm. "Come on and eat before your dad and Tim wolf it all down."

He obediently let her drag him along, wincing at the sound of his boots on the newly waxed hardwood floors. Between that, the new carpet—light green to match the new couch—and the paint, the place looked almost brand new.