Tied With a Bow and No Place to Go (Tizzy/Ridge Trilogy Book 3) (14 page)

The target climbed out of the tank, raked hair from her face
and wrung out her skirt before reclaiming her position. Synola eyed her,
shifted her weight from side to side, then hurled her second pitch. The bell
rang. The girl splashed. The spectators shouted. “This is fun,” Synola said.

“I’ll get more balls,” Tizzy said. “Rayann, do you want to
try it?”

She shook her head and followed. When the man gave her the
balls, Tizzy noticed his fingers and said, “Those are interesting tattoos.”

He glanced at his hands, back at Tizzy, and then focused on
the logo stitched across Rayann’s tank top. His eyes went wide with panic. He
turned, opened the door behind him, ran from the ticket booth, and disappeared
into the crowd.

Tizzy couldn’t believe her stroke of luck. What were the
chances that the guy at the festival was our mystery man? Pretty dang good, she
thought as they hurried back to her car. She unlocked the door and they piled
in. Everything matched his description. Height, weight, eye and hair color,
down to the tattoos on his hands. He had to be the one. No doubt in her mind.
Her phone sounded and brought her back to reality. She handed it to Rayann.
“Read the message, please.”

Rayann scanned the text, her expression now relaxed and calm
and Tizzy felt better about the trip. “Ridge says he’ll meet us at the tavern in
thirty minutes. Should I text Dwayne and ask him to come too?” Rayann asked.

Synola leaned forward from the backseat. “Doest thee plan to
chide him?”

“Oh, shut up. Thee doest not know what thee plans,” Rayann
said.

“You gotta make a decision, Rayann.” Tizzy sighed. “We
couldn’t get you to confront the woman, and now you’re being wishy-washy about
talking to Bubba. This isn’t going away. You need to tackle the problem before
it goes any farther.”

“You’re right. But if I bring it up, it’ll sound as if I’m
accusing him. I don’t want to be one of those jealous wives who ruins their
marriages because of trust issues.”

A choking noise came from deep in Synola’s throat. “You
already are that wife. You had Bubba tailed, and then you followed the woman.”

Rayann dropped her chin to her chest. “I’m a horrible
person. Dwayne’s going to be so mad at me.” She wiped at her eyes.

“Oh, God. Don’t cry again. Maybe we can get Bubba to
confess—if a confession is in order. I still say it could be an innocent
relationship,” Tizzy said.

Rayann brightened. “How can we do that?”

“Thanks to Synola’s pitching, we won those renaissance
tee-shirts. Let’s put them on. When Bubba realizes we’ve been there, that could
open a line of communication.”

“Tizzy’s right,” Synola said. “Perchance she be nay his
sweeting.”

Rayann sucked in a deep breath. “Hand me a shirt. It’s worth
a shot.”

Tizzy parked the car and Synola passed her a tee.

Tizzy removed her shirt and pulled the red tee over her tank
top. “What size is this?” She shifted her shoulders.

“They’re size small. I asked for mediums, but this is what I
got,” Synola said.

Running her hand underneath the top, Tizzy tugged the fabric
away from her breasts. This may not work for me.” She stared at her boobs
constricted beneath the words I drenched a wench.

“Don’t worry,” Synola said. “It just makes them look that
much bigger.”

Rayann bowed her head. “I wish it made mine bigger.”

Tizzy twitched, trying to get her girls situated. “Rayann,
stop feeling inferior about your ta-tas. As little as you are, you’d look funny
with big ones.” Tizzy grabbed the front of her shirt and stretched it. “This
isn’t comfortable, but for the sake of friendship, I’ll suffer.”

Five minutes later, Tizzy opened the tavern door, with
Rayann and Synola trailing behind. Too early for happy hour, the only patrons
were two old guys sitting at the bar. Bubba sat close by, not drinking. Jinx
glanced up and gave a head nod.

“Where’s Ridge?” Tizzy asked Bubba.

“He’ll be here soon.” Bubba focused on Tizzy’s chest.

She zeroed on his face for the reaction to the shirts.

He lost his color and stumbled over the words. “I
thought…didn’t ….wasn’t… today supposed to be a shopping trip?” His gaze darted
to Rayann, then back to Tizzy.

“We did shop,” Tizzy said. “At the Renaissance Festival.”

“Well, Tizzy shopped, but I drenched a wench,” Synola
announced. “I drenched her so many times we got these shirts.” She elbowed
Rayann. “Show him yours.”

Rayann staggered forward but didn’t speak.

Bubba raked fingers through his hair. “I…I…. see that.”

“Have you ever been to that festival?” Synola asked.

“No.”

“Well, you should go. Take Rayann with you. I bet you’d have
a good time.”

Tizzy pulled out a chair and sat across from Bubba. Synola
sat next to her. Rayann stood, frozen in place. No one spoke for a long time.

Finally, Synola said, “What the hell, Bubba? We know about
Houseboat Hoochie. Fishing my ass! What’s going on?”

“Synola!” Rayann screamed. “What happened to opening the
lines of communication?”

“I opened them! Now, I’m waiting for him to communicate!”

Bubba lowered his head, ran a hand across his face and spoke
to Rayann. “I can explain. I didn’t want you to find out this way.”

Rayann wrapped her arms around her stomach, face already
gone white. Tizzy pushed her into a chair. “Put your head between your legs.”

Bubba jumped from his seat and knelt beside his wife. “It’s
not what you think.”

“Then what is it?” Synola snapped. “Spit it out. Who is the
woman?”

“She’s my sister,” Bubba said.

Tizzy’s mouth hung open. “Huh?” She gawked at her two friends.
Their expressions matched hers. “You have a sister?”

Rayann stared at him.

He ran his hand along her cheek. “I love you, Rayann, and I
never want anyone to hurt you.”

Rayann looked at him and Tizzy saw pain in her eyes, but the
worry lines creasing her forehead were gone.

Bubba continued. “A few months back, Olivia, that’s her
name, contacted me. Said she was my sister. I had to admit it was feasible.
Since my biological mom gave me away, it stood to reason she might have other
kids and did the same thing.” He stood and reached for a chair, dragged it next
to Rayann’s and sat in it, then held both her hands. “Then six weeks ago, she
showed up. The birth certificate she produced had my mother’s name on it. I was
still suspicious, so I ran a background check on her and everything she’d told
me proved to be true. But still . . .” He shrugged. “I wanted to find out what
kind of person she was before I brought her into our life.”

Rayann threw her arms around him and burst into tears.

“Aw, Baby. Don’t cry,” Bubba said.

She sobbed into his neck. “I can’t help it. I’m so relieved.
I thought you were leaving me.”

“Leaving you? Baby, you’re the love of my life. I’ll never
leave you.”

“Now I’m sorry I put her in the water so many times,” Synola
said.

Jinx appeared at the table with three shots of tequila. “You
girls need these?”

“Dang straight we do,” Synola said and knocked it back. Jinx
pinched her cheek. She swatted at him.

Tizzy thought after a few more drinks, Synola wouldn’t be
shooing him away. Rayann’s voice got her attention.

“When can I meet her?” Rayann asked.

“Well, I’m not quite ready for that,” Bubba said. “I’ve sent
off DNA samples to be sure. They should be back in a few days.”

Tizzy tilted her head to one side. “You’re still not
convinced she’s your sister?”

“I don’t want any doubt. You can forge birth certificates
but not DNA.”

The door opened and Ridge joined the group. He kissed Tizzy,
claimed a seat, and then eyed her. “That shirt’s a bit snug, isn’t it?”

“It’s the only size they had. After today, I’ll let Gracie
sleep in it.” Tizzy craned her neck to see past Ridge. “Speaking of Gracie,
where is she?”

“Your parents’ house. Dan’s kids are there, too. They’re
swimming. So what did you have to tell me?”

“As you can see, we went to the Renaissance Festival, and
believe it or not, we found your mystery man.”

“Seriously?”

“Yep. He works there. When I asked about his tattoos and he
noticed Rayann’s Sweet Thangs shirt, he ran off. I’m sorry. But at least you
have a starting point to find out who he is.”

The door opened again. Tizzy watched Doyle Patton and a
woman, not his wife, claim stools at the bar. When the slick attorney glared at
her husband, Tizzy gave Ridge a rib-poke.

Ridge swiveled around, tipped his hat toward the pair, then
leaned over to Tizzy. “Who’s that woman with the mayor’s husband?”

“Ginger Beth Newman, Doyle’s secretary—and another one of
Jay Roy’s classmates.”

“Interesting.”

Tizzy’s gaze went back to the door as another woman entered.
She lowered her head, but kept attention on the woman. “Is that . . . ?”

Ridge followed Tizzy’s gaze, then gasped, “Holy shit.
Vienna.”

Tizzy didn’t wait for her to reach their table. She rose
from her chair, plopped into Ridge’s lap and kissed him hard.

He jerked his head back, then brought her face close and
whispered. “Marking your territory?”

“You betcha.”

He grinned. “Okay, then.” He pulled her face back to his and
covered her lips in an open-mouth kiss and added tongue.

Fire shot straight to lady town. His kiss did that to her
every time. She trained her eyes on Vienna’s approach. A cross between Sparkle
Barbie and Maybelline spokeswoman, she smacked gum in time with her steps. She
didn’t speak when she reached the group, but stood and waited for the lip-lock
to end.

Tizzy pulled away from Ridge and eyed the woman.

He turned to face Vienna. “What are you doing here?”

“You won’t return my calls, and I need to talk to you. In
private.”

Tizzy didn’t give him a chance to respond. “I don’t think
so.” She tried to stand, but Ridge held her in place.

“Uh-oh,” Synola said.

Ridge cut his eyes to Synola, then back at the woman.
“Vienna, this is my wife, Tizzy, and our friends Dwayne, Rayann, and Synola.”
He pointed to the bar.” And that’s Jinx. Everyone, Vienna Daniels. She’s the
dispatcher at Gun Barrel City PD.”

Vienna popped her gum, flashed a weak smile, then focused on
Ridge again. “I need to speak to you.”

“What about?” Tizzy asked, more of a command than request.

“Uh-oh,” Synola echoed.

“It’s personal,” Vienna said.

This time, Tizzy’s attempt to stand succeeded and she faced
the woman. Ridge stood, too. Tizzy fisted her hands and advanced a step closer.

“Uh-oh,” Synola and Rayann said in unison.

Ridge stepped to block Tizzy and spoke to Vienna. “Whatever
you have to say can be said here.”

Tizzy leaned her head against his back and whispered.
“Happily married.”

“I’m happily married,” he said.

“No more calls,” Tizzy whispered again.

“You’ve got to stop calling me,” Ridge said.

The next whisper. “Restraining order.”

He spoke over his shoulder. “Darlin’, I’ve got this. Take a
seat.”

Miffed, Tizzy sat and crossed her arms under her boobs, now
heaving over the top of the tight tank top.

Vienna glared at her. “Do you buy all your clothes too
small?”

“Uh-oh,” Synola, Rayann, and Bubba cried out in three-part harmony.

Tizzy jumped to her feet and pointed a finger at Vienna.
“You listen to me.” Tizzy’s lips stretched into a thin line against gritted
teeth. “Ridge is a married man.” She grabbed his left hand and shoved it toward
the woman. “See this wedding ring? That means he’s taken. You should direct
your advances to someone who’s available, because there is nothing for you
here.”

“Uh-oh,” Synola, Rayann, Bubba, Jinx, Doyle, Ginger, and the
two guys at the bar sang out like the Mormon Tabernacle Choir.

Ridge clasped Tizzy by the arm and ushered her back toward
the chair. “Babe, settle down.”

Tizzy’s face burned. She couldn’t decide if Vienna wanted to
provoke her or if she was just stupid. Either way, one more insult, and he
could forget holding her back.

“Spit it out, Vienna. Why do you need to talk to me?” Ridge
asked.

She reached into her purse and produced a piece of paper.
“First,” she said and glared at Tizzy, “I didn’t pursue him. He started it with
this.” She handed the note to Tizzy, then looked at Ridge. “My momma always
said, ‘wrong no man and write no woman.’ Did you think I wouldn’t keep the
letter?”

“I don’t have a clue what you mean. I never wrote you,”
Ridge said.

When Tizzy finished reading, she cocked her head. “This is
not his handwriting, and I’m pretty sure he’s smart enough to know this word,”
she said, pointing to the script, “has two S’s in it.” Tizzy passed the letter
to Ridge.

He unfolded the page and color flared in his cheeks. “Good
God! I’d never write that kind of dirty talk to anyone.” Then he nodded toward
his wife. “Except her.”

Vienna swallowed hard. “Well, if you didn’t write it, who
did?”

“Beats me, but I’m not your secret admirer. It could be
anyone. It’s not signed. Why me?”

“Because I got it two days after you started the case. When
you ignored my advances, I thought you were following instructions in the
note.”

“Give it to me,” Synola said. Rayann leaned over to read it
with her. “Well, it does say he’ll play hard to get and be turned on by her
advances,” Synola said.

“That’s why I kept after you. I thought that’s what you
wanted.” Vienna's eyes misted. “I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have gone after you if
I’d known.”

“Hold on a minute,” Tizzy said. “It shouldn’t have mattered
what you thought he wanted. He’s married.” Tizzy’s voice elevated an octave.
“Have you ever heard of rule number seven, a little thing called adultery? It’s
mentioned in that book, what’s the title—oh yeah, The Bible. Ever heard of it?”