Bucking the Rules(60)

“Flowers are nice,” she said absently.

“Flowers?” He debated running to the floral department, then shook his head. “Not going to work.” At least, not for a big apology.

“Hmm. Giving her clothing is too weird. Lingerie is always nice, but sends the wrong sort of message for the situation. More of a let’s have wild rutting animal sex vibe.”

“Bea,” he muttered, holding his hands over Seth’s ears. That’s just what he needed, for his son’s first sentence to be about wild animal sex. The matron who had given him and Jo a dirty look turned around and shot Bea a nasty glare.

Bea ignored it. “The whole rutting, primal animal sex thing is nice,” she added, almost wistfully. “If you can get it, I mean.”

“God. Why don’t I have two sets of hands so I can cover my own ears?” he moaned. When the scandalized woman in front of them paid for her purchases and hauled ass to the parking lot—likely cursing the Piggly Wiggly for allowing such people to shop there—he gratefully started loading the conveyor belt with their items and ignoring Bea.

“But you need something that says, I get you. I get you, and you’re important. And you can’t do that with lingerie or flowers. So think harder.”

He paused in the act of setting a bag of beans on the belt. “Is that it? That’s your big help? Think harder.”

Bea patted his arm. “You’re on your own from here.” She weaved around him and cooed at Seth, pushing the cart out of the lane. “Let’s go to the car and get you all hooked up in your car seat. Does that sound like fun? Yes, it does!”

Trace shook his head and reached into the cart for the last item before they pulled away. He came back with the soap magazine. Naturally, Bea would expect him to pay for it and not put it back. He sighed, debated, and then tossed it on the belt.

Why not? He might have a hell of a lot more free time on his hands now. Maybe he could watch reruns.





“He’s got a kid.” Jo slammed her palms down on the bar, making Amanda jump. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

Amanda looked up from the server notepad she was doodling in. “Probably because most people assumed you knew?”

“Why would I know that? I’m still ‘new’ here.” New in the Bumfuck Nowhere sense, which meant you were the new person until you’d lived there at least a decade.

“People talk.” Amanda shrugged. “But regardless, you hate gossip. You shut it out the moment you catch a whiff of it.”

“You could have made me listen,” she muttered.

“You weren’t exactly public with your relationship.”

Relationship. There was that dirty word again. “Apparently you knew.” Jo walked around the bar and sank into a chair next to Amanda. “What, did everyone know?”

“Nope,” her star server chirped. “But I was here late more than once, and I saw his truck hovering by your side of the building. Plus, you’ve been in a way better mood lately. I put two and two together and figured you two were playing Ride ’Em, Cowgirl at night.”

“Awful. That was awful.”

“Thanks. I liked it.” She ripped out the sheet of doodles and wadded it up, closing the pad and stuffing it in her server apron with the other hand. “It’s not the end of the world, right? You’re just doing the nasty nasty. He’s not exactly bringing his kid with him on adults-only dates. So what’s the big deal?”

The big deal was they’d recently made the joint decision to start something more than just the nasty nasty. And she, despite her bitching, had been looking forward to it with nervous anticipation. Now it was shot to hell.

She let her head fall to the table with a dull thud. “Why is being an adult so hard?”

“Because we had it too easy as kids? Something about our grandparents walking uphill both ways in the snow … I don’t know. I usually blank out after Gramps gets going.” Amanda rubbed her back soothingly.

“It’s going to be okay. You’re you, and you’ll get through it. You’ll get what you want out of the bargain, because that’s what you do. You wanted the bar, you got it. You wanted to be top dog, it’s coming to you. You wanted a hot man in your bed, and he was. Now you can keep him there, and pretend he’s not a daddy on the side, or you can find another strapping cowboy to fill in. There’s no shortage of them in this area, if you didn’t notice.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but closed it again. Might as well let Amanda think that. But the fact was, she didn’t want another cowboy in her bed. She wanted her cowboy. The one she already had.