Page 69 of Any Cowboy of Mine
“It’s not too late to make it right for yourself, too. You aren’t chained to him just because you walked down the aisle,” Sophie said, nodding to Chris. Julia followed her gaze and sighed.
“I’m pregnant,” Julia said, her voice shaking and weak. Sophie closed her eyes against the news. Her heart really did go out to this woman, who so clearly had gone a little too far down the wrong path and was just trying to find a way off. It would have been tragic if it weren’t so damned pathetic.
“That doesn’t matter. You’ve got family who will help, who are better equipped to support you than other women I know who go it alone all the time. Julia, take your life back. It’s yours for the taking, you just have to want it bad enough.”
“Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden?”
“Because I think you’re going to make the right choice. If you don’t,” Sophie said, smiling a bit bigger than the circumstances called for, “then nice will be but a happy memory. I’ll make sure I wipe that smile clean off your face.” She cleared her throat, started walking away, her piece having been said, loud and clear, no room for misinterpretation.
“What if my parents won’t help?” Julia asked as Sophie made her way to the door.
“Then look me up at work. I’ll get a lawyer who specializes in divorce and custody cases to represent you and get you back on track. Is that fair?”
Julia nodded.
“Take care, Julia. I hope to see you around.”Hopefully not in a courtroomwas implied as she showed herself out. She walked back to her car with her head held high. She might not know farm equipment or livestock, but she could lawyer the shit out of a situation if she needed to. Or, if the love of her life needed her to. Who, speaking of, she couldn’t wait to slide under the covers with. There were so many things to tell him, and when that was taken care of, she had big plans for his lips that had nothing to do with talking.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The Second Wedding
The doorbell tothe farmhouse rang twice in quick succession. Brad poked his head out of the kitchen. He couldn’t see Sophie, and everyone else in the packed living room continued talking animatedly in small groups, either not having heard the bell or not caring since it wasn’t their home. He sighed and put down the metal shaker he was using to make Sophie a cosmo. He got stopped three times in the hundred feet from the kitchen to the door, each guest telling him what a wonderful job he and Sophie had done with the place. Each time, he thanked them—they had done some good work in the few weeks they’d been there—but told the guests that it was actually his mom and Paige who had decorated for the wedding, that they deserved the praise.
The bell rang again.
“I’m coming. Jesus,” Brad muttered. His mom had crafted a sign in beautiful, but perfectly legible, gold and black calligraphy for the front door, telling the guests to come on in. The ceremony had just ended, so whoever was at his door—and couldn’t read—was also very late.
He got to the door and swung it open, expecting to see a guilty-looking guest, but instead was met with a mountain of boxes, a UPS delivery man to the side of them brandishing a clipboard in outstretched arms.
“What’s this?” Brad asked.
“Not sure,” the UPS guy told him. “I just do the deliveries.”
Brad gave him a “really?” look, his eyes narrowed and brows pulled in. He was met with raised arms and a cocked head from the delivery man.
He shut the door behind him, not wanting to let the cold in. He rubbed his arms, trying to warm them. A February storm had rolled through the week before, dumping two feet of snow on the farm and town. Brad had worried about what that meant for the wedding, including driving the narrow dirt road to the property, but Steve and Jackie were thrilled that it meant their pictures would look like a winter wonderland. As Brad tried to rack his brain about what the boxes might be, he marveled at how much of the snow had stuck around the past week. He had to admit, Steve and Jackie were right. It made for a stunning backdrop to their day, cold as it was.
Brad signed the sheet, and the man wasted no time sprinting back to his truck, roaring through the packed snow to the still-hidden dirt road. Brad looked at the return labels, saw that the packing slips were underneath, and fished them out with trembling hands. One look was all it took to warm him right up. They were from his publisher and contained the advanced author copies of book four in his series.
Holy shit, that was a quick turnaround.
Did that mean Julia’s injunction was officially called off? All he knew was that Sophie had gone to talk to her the night after her first visit to the farm for dinner with his parents. Well, he knew that after all but torturing the information out of her.
At first, she’d come home and simply told him, “Write.” A quizzical look from him prompted only, “Write the draft. Send it in. Your publishers are waiting.” It was the most cryptic conversation he’d ever had with her, but he’d done as she commanded, knowing instinctively that he could and would always trust her.
He finished the last draft of the book only two days past due and sent it in. The publishers had “optimistically” sent it to some reviewers with strict instructions not to publish the reviews until they heard from Brad’s manager. After that, it’d been a waiting game, an effort in patience he almost lost until he was working on his bills one night, Sophie curled up naked beside him, and saw an amount in his checking account he thought must have been a mistake. There were far too many zeros following the number five for him to do more than put his head between his legs and breathe. Another glance told him it was from the production agency, the first of three payments for the movie rights toJewel Thiefand the next two books.
Holy shit.She’d done it.They’ddone it. Whatever legal mess stopped production of the movies was at least behind him, and after that it’d been business as usual. He began tentatively at first, then compulsively worked on book five. Sophie gave him his life, and his muse, back. It looked like she’d kept one more secret from him, though. He had no idea they’d gone ahead with normal publication of book four, but why wouldn’t they have if there was no legal reason not to? When he got ahold of Sophie, he’d make sure to thank her in a way he knew she’d appreciate.
That woman had done nothing short of the impossible since he’d met her, and he couldn’t be more grateful. First, she’d turned the wedding of his nightmares into a pleasant dream he didn’t want to wake from, then she’d stood by him while he figured out his relatively convoluted relationship with his mom. She’d single-handedly fixed the situation with Julia and now had helped them move into his parents’ farmhouse. All that and to boot, in four short weeks, she’d helped plan and execute the wedding of Steve and Jackie’s dreams. In addition to thanking her, he owed her a vacation, that was for damn sure—especially now that they had the funds to cover one that would blow her socks, and the rest of her clothes, off. He’d have to talk to Paige and get her advice on a romantic destination that would really wow Sophie. She sure as hell deserved it.
Examining the slew of packages, Brad found a note addressed to him in messy scrawl taped to the outside of one of the closest boxes and giddily tore it open. This was the Christmas he was supposed to have, albeit a couple months late.
Brad—Sorry for sending these without warning. Your lady and I wanted to surprise you. Surprise! Can’t wait to see the draft of book five. We’ve already sold out of the preorder print run of these, so get crackin’!–Keith and Team
Brad smiled, looking over his shoulders to see if there was anyone else to share in his joy, but through the windows he could see everyone was laughing, engaged with other guests, drinking, which was how it should be at a wedding.
He didn’t want to steal Steve and Jackie’s day from them. Using the pocketknife he carried everywhere since he moved full-time to the farm to crack open one of the boxes, Brad took one of the books out to admire it. Per usual, the team had done an amazing job conjuring up the gist of the story and putting it simply, artistically, into visual form for the front cover, which showed a noose hanging from the center beam in the storefront of a nameless jewelry store. It was perfect. Brad wished Sophie would come out to find him so he could show her without drawing attention away from the wedding party. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to seeing his name on the cover of a novel, on shelves at bookstores, or being reviewed in some of his favorite magazines. This one he owed to her, he knew that much.
