Page 52 of A Baby for the Texas Cowboy
“What’s the first…never mind,” Tinsley said quickly when both Cruz and Catalina turned to face her, hands on hips and nearly identical expressions of “no duh,” like they were humming a popular Billie Eilish song.
“I have dinner, sparkly so that we can pretend that we are drinking. I’m assuming you got wineglasses over here already.”
“Of course,” Catalina said. “Soooooo—” she drew out the word “—no wine for you?”
“I thought I would join you in your temporary sobriety as an act of sisterly solidarity.”
“You’re trying, aren’t you?” Catalina jumped up and down. “I knew it. It’s the Wolf competition thing. Waiting a few years my ass.”
“I plead the fifth.”
“You don’t have to. You’re glowing. This is the best news ever.”
“I haven’t announced any news,” Cruz said coolly.
Catalina stared hard at her sister-in-law. “Okay,” she said, reluctantly. “I’ll play your game.”
“I have plates and silverware upstairs, even linen napkins,” Tinsley said, and then winced. Linen napkins. Things like that belonged in her old life. “I’ll get them,” she tagged on, feeling like Cruz and Cat could do with some time alone.
“You move in fast,” Cruz commented beginning to unpack the food.
“More like Anders moves in fast. I think he depleted the nearest Amazon warehouse with his online finger prowess.”
“As long as that’s not the only prowess he and his fingers demonstrate,” Catalina called out as Tinsley headed up to her apartment to grab some dishes and cutlery.
She found herself grinning as she ran back downstairs. She hadn’t expected to be enjoying her new job and fast-track roots so much, nor had she anticipated making friends. Sure, she’d enjoyed working in the sponsor tent and training new staff and selling the Cowboy Wolf Whiskey as she traveled with the tour, and she’d had plenty of acquaintances that she’d been friendly with, but friends, not so much.
And even growing up, a lot of the girls she was “friends” with were also cut-throat rivals—in the barn and at the competitions, and academically everyone wanted to be on top. Tinsley had thrived, but it hadn’t been until she’d left that she’d realized how empty she’d felt.
“Not empty now,” she remarked, and was surprised that thinking about the baby didn’t feel so scary today.
That was good, she thought as she walked back downstairs more sedately. She was done with fear.
“I have the tasting room wine set up and the wine cellar is organized. It’s really too bad none of us are drinking.” She brandished a corkscrew along with some serving spoons. “I’d love to practice my pouring skills.”
“Not going to pour out tastes using your oh-so-marvelous cleavage to rest the glass on for our new Verflucht wine-tasting guests?” Catalina teased.
“August told you.”
“He didn’t have to. You’re a bartending legend. The online videos and comments prove it,” Catalina sang out and stole a hush puppy from one of the food boxes where Cruz was gracefully organizing the takeout meal on three plates.
“Pull one up. I want to see,” Cruz said, much to Tinsley’s dismay. “That sounds adventurous—like a scene in a movie. Not even in my dreams with the best push-up bra in the world could I hold anything up, including a shot glass,” Cruz said, looking down ruefully at her chest.
Tinsley popped the cork on the sparkling water and poured it into three champagne glasses.
“Titty pours?” Catalina dared, popping another hush puppy into her mouth.
“Not really the vibe I was going for in the tasting room.”
“That can be a private show for Anders,” Cruz suggested with a smile, taking a fork and picking a little at the food on her plate.
“He’s the one who got the show in the first place, the lucky, lovestruck dog,” Catalina said.
“There was no love involved.” Tinsley tried to control the conversation. “Lust only.”
“Did you really let him drink a shot off your breasts?” Cruz’s eyes rounded. She pulled out her phone and deftly Googled.
“August is having a still blown up and hung in the whiskey bar he’s opening in Portland.”
