Crazy Little Thing Called Love by Jess Bryant Page A

and not to let it happen again. The only
serious talks she could remember in her life were the “Suck it up
cowgirl, don’t cry” ones she got each and every time she’d been
emotional enough to let loose a round of tears in front of him.
    “Just some ranch stuff, nothing
important.”
    Obviously it was important. He’d never asked
to talk business with her. She had no idea how the ranch operated.
He’d always handled everything himself and he’d never involved her.
Sitting down to talk about it, bringing it up wasn’t just
important, it was monumental.
    “We could talk now.” She offered.
    She watched him pick up his tea with a shaky
hand and tried to breathe. What if something was really wrong? He
didn’t look well. He wasn’t acting like his normal self. She needed
to know what was going on.
    “No.”
    She hadn’t realized she was holding her
breathe until he spoke and she felt like she’d combusted like a
popped balloon, “But…”
    “No. It’ll hold until Sunday.” He shook his
head and changed the subject in typical avoidance behavior,
“Where’s this dinner at tonight?”
    “Sullivan’s.”
    “Nice restaurant. They serve a good
T-bone.”
    “Yeah, I don’t think I’ve been there since
high school.”
    “I heard Molly met her man over at the
university.”
    “Yeah. At Tech.”
    “Good for her. Be sure to give her my
congratulations.”
    “I will.”
    “She was always a nice girl.”
    “Yeah, she was.”
    Small talk. They were back to the grind of
small talk. He brought up something important then shut her out
just like he always did. There was no point worrying about it. If
he said it would hold until Sunday odds were it would hold. If
there was one thing Lyle Carter was good at it was running his
ranch. She’d just have to stop worrying, get through dinner, the
wedding and then she’d figure it out on Sunday.

Chapter Four
     
     
    Blue sipped her beer and avoided looking
directly at anyone. Her head hurt, not a migraine but a dull,
pounding behind her eyes that had started up the second she set
foot in Sullivan’s for the rehearsal dinner and was only getting
worse now that they’d gone next door to Sully’s for the joint
bachelor/bachelorette party she hadn’t known anything about. She
wished she could just slip out the back door and go home but Molly
had insisted on drinks so she was playing along for now.
    Now being the operative word because she
wasn’t sure how much more she could take. Dinner had been bad
enough. Just as she’d feared nearly everyone else in the bridal
party was happily part of a couple and they’d all brought their
significant others with them and a few had even brought their
children.
    The icing on the cake though was the surprise
that the groomsman that would be escorting her down the aisle the
next day was none other than Woody Hopkins, her eleventh grade
boyfriend. He’d changed little since they parted ways except that
his formerly muscular football player frame was softer and rounder
and his hairline had begun to recede as though it was scared of his
forehead. He asked that they not harbor hard feelings for the time
she keyed his car in high school and she’d agreed even though he’d
totally deserved it for lying that he’d gone all the way with her
in the backseat.
    Still, it hadn’t been all bad. Molly’s
parents had beamed and gushed over her fiancé. For a second she’d
figured it probably had something to do with the fact the guy was
from a very old, very wealthy oil family from down near Odessa but
she’d dismissed that as her own jealousy rearing its ugly head.
Molly seemed absolutely blissful and Blue was old and alone and
evading questions about why she didn’t have a man of her own.
    Yes, those questions had come time and again.
It wasn’t so bad from Molly or even Molly’s mother. They genuinely
seemed to care if she ever found a husband and if she was happy.
When the questions started coming from Molly’s cousins who’d