ONCE IN A BLUE MOON (BLUEBONNET, TEXAS Book 2) (17 page)

Definite alien abduction.
Honestly, I wasn’t used to being babied, not since, well, since I had the flu before my dad left. I was eight.

It was a little weird.

But no matter how his mom, sister-in-law or his ex-wife felt, he was mine, by damn, and I had the marriage license to prove it. Maybe my little plan to smother him with affection was working too good. I grinned.
Impossible.

No way was I missing another day of work, even if I didn’t have to be in for a couple of hours. I was dressed and out the door before anymore of my in-laws decided to come calling again.

* * *

General Cassi showed up in the middle of breakfast and bill paying, wanting to know where I’d been yesterday.

"Did Ty do something?" she demanded. She stood at the door, arms crossed, a frown on her face.

"Ty’s fine. He didn’t
do
anything." Actually, he did a lot, but I wasn’t in the mood to share.

"You’re not just defending him, are you?" Cassi flopped on the couch, rifling through my bag of breakfast burritos from Taco Cabana.

I shook my head. "He was great. Really."
Except for his little disappearing act.
I spun around in my chair and propped my feet on the little coffee table. "I had a visitor yesterday morning?"

Her eyebrows slowly rose as she sank into the couch cushions, my extra burrito in her hot little hands. Payback for stealing all those eggrolls.

"Jessa."

"That short brunette with the Cher-hair?" she asked, frowning.

I laughed. "It’s not that bad."

"Sister needs some bangs or something."

"Stop it!" Once my giggles had subsided, I continued. "She said she’d kick my ass if I hurt Ty and some shit about running with the herd. Then Ty came in after she left and caught me crying."

"Crying? I can’t believe that tiny little thing threatened you? Sounds like girlfriend’s spent too much time with the horses," Cassi snickered.

I joined in, unable to help myself. She did have a way of always putting things in perspective. "I don’t know. I just feel like I’m missing something." I paused to turn it all over in my mind again. "It didn’t come off as just an average welcome-to-the-family warning, but a full-fledged threat!"

"Did you tell Ty?"

"No, hell, no. We’ve been married two days and I’m fighting with my in-laws. Maybe after Thanksgiving," I added with a grin. "No sense ruining our first holiday together."

* * *

My last appointment canceled, so Cassi and I took off for Home Depot to pick out paint. We’d decided to at least paint the nursery on Sunday since the furniture was due for delivery Monday. The rest of the house could wait.

After forty minutes of arguing and driving every sales clerk in a fifty-yard radius batty, we ended up agreeing on "Sugar," a pale warm pink, for the house and also one wall of the nursery. We left with a quart each of Sugar, Airy, Morning Sunlight, and Sea Cap, also known as blue, yellow and green, and an assortment of brushes, rollers and plastic tarps and headed back to the salon so I could drop her off.

"Will you be alright?"

"With Jessa? Absolutely." I grinned. That was Ty’s ‘word.’ "I mean, hell, she’s more pregnant than I am."

Cassi chuckled as she opened the door and made to get out. "Then I won’t offer to kick her ass for you. Sure Ty won't mind about us coming over to paint on Sunday?"

"Thanks, girl. And no I don’t think he’ll mind." I wasn’t used to something as simple as checking my schedule—or ideas—with someone else. Guess I better ask.

"You’re welcome. Get some rest, and watch your back around Ms. Prego. She might belly bump ya or something."

I waved goodbye one more time and giggled all the way home.
Belly-bump.
I didn’t have a belly yet but it was definitely in the works.

When I got home, the house was dark, and Ty’s truck was gone. I’d completely forgotten today was Thursday and I hadn’t seen him all day. Not since last night.

* * *

The clock on Ty’s nightstand flashed 3:00 in big red digits. I blinked and stretched, my eyes on the ceiling. What woke me up?  A door? "Ty?"

No answer. I slipped out of bed, stopping in the hallway to turn up the heat, and peeked into the living room. Everything looked fine, but in the kitchen the microwave dinged.

"Ty?" Louder this time. He came through the kitchen door, a plate in his hand, and I breathed a sigh of relief. "You coming to bed?"

"Lemme eat and get a shower." He looked as tired as I felt.

I’d missed having him in bed with me and I wanted to go hug on him a while, maybe sit in his lap. Instead, I forced myself to turn around and wait in bed like a good girl. Not a clingy nitwit who couldn’t move without her husband at her side.

A little while later we were curled up together under the blankets. "How was it?"

"How was what?" he asked, spooning me, his body still warm and damp from the shower.

"The bar. Your day. Your night. I haven’t seen you all day," I mumbled.

"I’m sorry."

"Don’t be sorry, silly. Just wanted you to know I missed you." I drowsily squeezed the arms wrapped around me, inhaling the scent of Dial soap.

I
was
a clingy nitwit.

"I missed you, too. What’s all that paint and stuff on the dining room table?"

"Cassi and I are painting the nursery on Sunday—if that’s okay with you."

"Absolutely."

* * *

Saturday morning I very reluctantly left Ty sleeping and headed to work early. I had a very full day scheduled. But I hadn’t seen him until late Friday night either and missed the coziness we’d shared Tuesday and Wednesday. This wasn’t necessarily a good thing when you’re normally Ms. Ultra Independent.

On my way out, I passed Mrs. Boudreaux walking toward Zack and Jessa’s, an empty plate in her hands.
Great.

"Morning." I wondered how long I’d feel like an outsider. Maybe until we had grandkids? That thought made me blink.

"Well, good morning, Betti." The smile on her lips didn’t reach her eyes. I had to hand it to her though—but for a touch of silver in her auburn hair and smile lines around her green eyes, she looked remarkable. I hope I looked as good at her age. "Off to work?"

"Yes, ma’am." I’d just regressed to my elementary school days where every woman was Ma’am.  
Never let ‘em see ya sweat.
I gave her my best smile.

"Feeling better?

"I’m fine, thanks. Just a bad tummy." And a bad sister-in-law. "Oh, before I forget, are we doing anything for Thanksgiving? My sister. I need to let her know...something...soon."

"We eat around two. We can go over the menu at Sunday supper. I forgot you had a sister! I suppose you two are close."

She forgot? Sunday supper?
"Thank you but I have plans on Sunday. And we’re sort of close. She thinks I’m overbearing, and I think she’s a brat sometimes, but she’s my baby sister so..." I let my words trail off and shrugged.

"Don’t you fret about Sunday. I’ll take a walk over. I wondered what had happened to her after Polly passed. I thought she’d gone to live with your daddy or something."

"No, ma’am. I raised her. She’s down at A&M now." No way could she have missed the pride in my voice. And judging from the one arched eyebrow, she hadn’t.

"Must not have been easy, raising a baby when you’re a baby yourself."

I shrugged. "I suppose. Kinda hard to hate something when it’s all that you know. Have a nice day, ma’am." With a wave, I was off.

Liar.
You can’t hate something when it’s all you know, but you can hate and resent the irresponsible adults who put you there.

Speak of the devil...I had a call to make. Curled up in my office chair twenty minutes later, I dialed Angelina’s number and woke her ass up.

She finally answered on the fifth ring. "Lo."

"Angi?"

"Yeah." Her voice was rough from sleep and sounded like she had a pillow between her and the receiver. I heard a man’s voice in the background. My timing sucked.

"It’s Bettina."

"Shit," was followed by a hissed "Shhhh." Obviously, Angi had decided I’d just been born yesterday.

"What’s his name?" I loved calling her bluff. Always have.

"Who?" Angi’s a God-awful liar. She sounded grumpy, and now I didn’t feel so bad for waking her up. Even on a Saturday.

"That warm body next to you." I chuckled. "Angelina, I know a man’s voice when I hear it." And I also pay her rent.

"I’m sure you do. But what business of it is yours?" Her voice suddenly rang out loud and clear in my ear.

She’s sure I do?
"It’s not, as long you keep your grades up," I snapped. We’d had ‘the talk’ when she was ten, and I’d explained periods, sex
and
men. I’d hoped my frankness would have save her from a few of the hard lessons I’d learned.

 I didn’t expect her to be pure as the driven snow. Just smart and careful. She was private about her men and, for the most part, I respected that. Her sex life wasn’t something I pried into.
And some things I just don’t want the particulars of.

"Don’t fucking nag me, Bet! It’s Saturday for Christ’s sake."

"I’m not nagging. I haven’t heard from you since I left that message about getting married, so I called to talk."

"Well, if you called to chew my ass out for missing the happy event, you could have done it later!"

Ouch!
I sighed and rubbed my temples.

"What’s his name?" I changed gears, wondering how serious she might be about him. I didn’t pry, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t curious. Especially since she’d never brought any men home from college—or dated much in high school either.

"What business of it is yours?"

I was fighting a losing battle. Obviously someone had woken up on the wrong side of their textbooks this morning. "Thanksgiving is Thursday," I said softly.

"So?"

A slap in the face would have hurt less than that one little word. Shocked, I swallowed my tears. All this crying was getting out of hand. When Mom was alive, she was usually too drunk to
do
holidays, or she’d ruin anything we two had planned.

"You’re not coming home?" After Mom died, we’d made even the silliest holidays fun, whipping up outrageous valentines filled with horrible verses or hiding psychedelic eggs from each other. We’d tended to overcompensate.

Or maybe, it was me who overcompensated.
I might have resented my parents for their failures but I’d never resented Angi. Whether she knew it or not, Angelina had been the one constant in my life, especially after Dad left.

"Hang on." She’d put her hand over the receiver so I all I heard were muffled voices. "I’m going to Rob’s for Thanksgiving." Her voice was as cold as a January blue northern’.

"Fine." Hanging up, I brushed away the tears that broke free, struggling to hold back the sniffles riding hard on their heels. Pregnancy had turned me into a damned watering pot and I didn’t like it.

Sniffling again, I struggled to pull myself together before my first client arrived.

"Boss?" came Tara’s voice over the intercom.

"What?"

"Angi’s on line one—"

Shit.
I’d bawl all over the phone if I talked to her right now, and I’d done enough crying in the last couple of days.

"—And your eight-thirty is here."

"Tell Angi I’m busy, and tell Derlinda I’ll be right out."

I headed for the bathroom to fix my face. Time to pull it together. I had work to do and a long day in front of me.

* * *

Late in the afternoon I sat in my office unwinding and snacking on apples when Cassi strolled in. "What happened now?"

I frowned, wondering how the hell she’d known there was something wrong.

"You’re pouting, or doing some really heavy thinking. Besides, Tara told me Angi called and you didn’t want to talk to her. You
always
talk to her. Sherlock Cassi figures you’re pissed at her."

I snorted with laughter, finally feeling like it wasn’t quite so horrible. But I was still pissed. "Damned ungrateful heathen brat’s not coming home for Thanksgiving. And she was a total bitch about it." Cassi was practically family. Long explanations weren’t necessary.

Rule Number Eleven:
Your Best Girlfriend is Worth Her Weight In Ice Cream.

"Where did you go wrong with that one?" she drawled, hugging me.

Another bubble of laughter slipped out. "Hopefully I’ll do better with this next one," I said, patting my belly.

"Boss, Jeff’s here," Tara broke in over the intercom.

"I’ll be right there." I stood and eyed Cassi. "Duty calls. Wanna come keep me company?"

"Sure." She sighed, fanning herself.

Having Jeff as my last customer of the day was always a treat—for Cassi
and
I. She wouldn’t admit it but she had a huge
thing
for Jeff Callaghan, one of San Antonio’s most sought-after bachelors. I’d started doing his hair when he was in college, working construction for book and tuition money, and I was a new business owner.

"Wanna wash his hair for me?" I teased, strolling through the door ahead of her. I’d been pushing them at each other for months.

"Shut up!" she hissed, nudging me in the back.

"Just thought I’d ask." With a laugh, I headed up front while she got his beer.

"Hey, Jeff." I walked toward the couch where he sat, all six feet of him dressed in old Levi’s, complete with holes in the knees, and a worn t-shirt. His shaggy dark hair was hidden beneath a ball cap, and his five o’clock shadow looked like it’d been there a few days. Jeff could almost pass for a street bum. You’d never know to look at him that he was filthy rich.
Literally.
He specialized in urban architecture and wasn’t above getting his hands dirty on a construction site.

He unwound himself from the sofa and stood up, squeezing my fingers and kissing my cheek. "Hey there, beautiful. When are you going to give in and go on a date with me?"