“Without prompting?”
She nodded. She probably blushed to the roots of her hair when she recalled how thoroughly he had apologized. Twice.
Maybelle smirked. “I always liked the making-up part too. I’m glad to see you’re not the type who holds a grudge or keeps score. That can sour everything in a marriage right quick. You don’t want to start your marriage out that way. Always take the high road when given the chance.”
That observation jarred Celia because she hadn’t taken the high road. She’d actually sunk a little low. Lying to Kyle about her plans tonight. Wearing an outfit that made her feel exposed enough she’d left her coat on. Did she really need to prove to Kyle that other men found her attractive?
No. Hell no.
The only man she cared about being sexy for…was Kyle. Her husband.
Being here, dressed like this, was a petty, childish thing to do. Kyle deserved a wife who respected him—in public and in private—as much as he respected her.
That was when she knew she loved him. Not Kyle the boy. Not Kyle the bull rider. Kyle her husband. The man who got her. The man who needed her. The man she needed more than she’d ever imagined.
And more than anything, she just wanted to go home to him, hit replay, and do this over. She couldn’t do that, but she could keep from making it worse.
“Miz Maybelle, will you excuse me? I need to make a phone call.”
Celia scooted outside and huddled against the building as she waited for him to pick up. “Kyle? Can you come and get me and take me home?”
“Aren’t you comin’ back here after the movie?”
“Umm…Yeah, about that. We didn’t go to a movie. We’re at Buckeye Joe’s.”
Silence. Then, “I’m on my way.”
“Lemme get this straight. Harper, Tierney, and Celia are drinkin’ at Buckeye Joe’s?” Bran said with an edge to his voice.
“I’ve seen how Tierney and Celia are when they’re drinkin’ together.” Renner stood. “I’ll get my coat.”
“I’ll get mine too,” Bran said, “because I’ve seen Harper and Celia drinkin’ together over the years and it usually ends in a bar fight.”
“Looks like your wife is the common denominator of evil,” Eli said slyly.
“Fuck off. And back off, you two.” Kyle pointed at Bran and Renner. “Celia didn’t say nothin’ about your wives. She wants me to take her home. Maybe she’s sick or something.”
“The question is why didn’t any of you know your wives were goin’ to Buckeye Joe’s in the first place?” Fletch asked with a snicker.
Kyle noticed that Tobin, Renner’s hired hand, who always talked nonstop, hadn’t uttered a peep. In fact, he was mighty interested in his dead hand of cards. “I wanna know how Tobin knows what they’re up to.”
All eyes zoomed to Tobin.
“What? I’m innocent.”
Renner snorted. “That’ll be the day, college boy. Start talkin’.”
Tobin threw his cards on the table and sighed. “I only know because Garnet contacted me this afternoon. She asked if she got snockered if she could call me to give her a ride home. So I asked what she was doin’ tonight and she told me about them meeting at the Buckeye. Sounded like y’all’s wives planned on inviting you after they’d cut loose with the Mud Lilies for a few hours. Garnet was pretty pumped that it was cheap-drink night.”
Bran groaned. “Those ladies are always in the thick of things, stirring things up.”
“That’s why I love them old gals. They are far more interesting and fun than any of the women my age I’ve dated in the last couple years.” A grinning Fletch glanced from Hugh Pritchett, Renner’s foreman, to Eli. “You guys up for a drink or ten at the Buckeye?”
“Now hold on just a second. What if they planned some kind of surprise?” Kyle asked.
Everyone looked at Tobin.
“Don’t look at me like that. How the hell should I know what they’ve got planned? They’re your wives.”
“Which is why I’m heading there alone,” Kyle said. “I’ll call from the bar and tell you what’s goin’ on.”
“If we don’t hear from you ASAP, we’re showing up anyway,” Renner shouted as Kyle reached the door.
Kyle drove on autopilot, trying not to come up with worst-case scenarios about why Celia sounded so mortified.
The parking lot was jam-packed.
Just as he started to get out of his truck, his cell phone buzzed with a text from Renner telling him the guys were on their way.
He found Celia in the far back corner of the bar. Wearing her coat and a worried look. Christ. Maybe she was sick.
“Darlin’, what’s wrong?”
She threw herself at him. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For almost embarrassing the crap outta both of us.”
How much had she been drinking? Because she wasn’t making a lick of sense. “Come again?”
“Yesterday after you made that nasty crack about me, I went to Harper’s store and bought new clothes, intending to prove to you that I am a sexy, hot woman and not some dorky, shapeless little girl.”
“Cele. I thought we’d moved on from that.”
“We have. I mean, yes, you apologized to me. But I’d already made plans to come here tonight and make myself feel better by wearing something snappy. Then we planned to call you guys to come have a drink with us. You’d walk in and see me lookin’ so smokin’ hot that you’d immediately regret your mean remark.”