Tucker's Crossing (33 page)

Mrs. McKinney did a little shoving of her own and before Shelby knew what was happening, corn muffins and hot chili were flying. They splattered the entire front row, sending the Ladies of Sweet diving under the chairs, hands shielding their bonnets and pearls. Got rooted in Opal Peterson’s hair—Opal looked mighty fine for a woman who’d recently had a stroke. Even made their way onto the newly crowned Miss Sweet’s sash and all over Bea’s award-winning quilt.

Cody jumped in from behind and Logan leapt up on the stage, each grabbing a lady, arms and legs kicking as they backed them away from each other.

“That’s enough!” The tiny voice echoed through the mike and brought everyone to a standstill.

Sidney had somehow gotten herself up on the coffin display and was clutching the mike with one hand, the other sternly fisted on her hip. “That was my mama’s chili. Well, better than my mama’s ’cuz my auntie helped me make it and we put in chocolate, ’cuz we like chocolate. And you spilt it.” She pointed to the mess of chili and crumbs on the pavement. “Destruction of property is what they call it. And I’m fixing to press charges. So you had better stop being so mean and listen to Ms. Shelby or I’ll send you to my room where you can think long and hard about what you’ve done!”

“You give ’em hell, baby,” Gina hollered and the Ladies of Sweet gasped. Gina flipped them the bird and smiled.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Mrs. McKinney said in conjunction with Luella’s apology. Both women looked sheepish, sorry, yet still capable of causing a ruckus.

“I accept your apology, but sometimes sorry doesn’t make it better. Now go sit down so Ms. Shelby can read the winner and we can go back to having fun.”

Both women nodded and made their way off the stage area, leaving a trail of crumbs, shredded cheese, and diced onions, and took a seat. Sidney nodded firmly at Shelby, thinking for the world that she had just ended the feud. What she didn’t see were the four deputies with cuffs and partial riot gear making their way forward, gunning for the two women.

Sidney handed Shelby the mike and Cody gave her the judges’ envelope, but not before delivering a slow, sensual, utterly devastating kiss to her lips.

Right there.

In front of the entire town.

It wasn’t his way of marking her like the other night at the bar. This was different. This was him not being able to help himself. And if Gina hadn’t started making catcalls, and she didn’t hear Jake groan with embarrassment, Shelby might had gone back for seconds.

“If you’re not careful, everyone’s going to think we’ve got a thing going on,” she whispered.

“Is that right?” Cody looked down, a smug smile crossing his face when he took in her hand gripping the waistband of his jeans. “I reckon they’ve already figured that out, but just in case.” He took the mike and faced the townspeople. “I just wanted to thank Shelby Lynn for all of her hard work with the cook-off and for agreeing to be my wife.”

He handed her the mike, gave her a swift and promising kiss, and then took his place next to the other judges. Shelby swallowed, hard. Prayed for composure when she spoke, which was hard to do when, even in this heat, she could feel her face flush and knew—just knew—that her nipples were jutting through her tank.

Don’t make something out of nothing.

But how could she not? He’d just announced to the world that they were engaged. It wasn’t an “I love you” but it was something. She wasn’t exactly sure what, but she was certain that it was him, meeting her more than partway.

You fell in love with a guy who’s afraid of love, Shelby. Not the worst thing in the world.

She looked back and he winked, slow and sexy, giving her a once-over. She returned the favor, taking in how handsome he looked in his Western button-down and dark jeans, and winked back. No, she thought, not the worst thing in the world.

Shelby cleared her throat. “Um . . . Ladies and gentlemen. The winner of this year’s Summer Sweet Spectacular Chili Cook-off is . . .” Shelby slid open the envelope and let out a squeak. Oh, this was too good. “Sidney Miller.”

Sidney squealed and ran to clutch at Shelby’s legs, jumping up and down with her pretty blue ribbon that clashed spectacularly with the rest of her outfit. The crowd applauded. The two other finalists sat side by side, clapping and grumbling through their cardboard smiles about judge tampering and sympathy vote, forgetting it was a blind test. At least they had something to bond them together, even if just for today.

Logan threw Sidney on his shoulders and paraded her around with her ribbon. People came up to congratulate Shelby on her engagement, asking her how Cody had proposed, delighted that she was staying in Sweet Plains and happy that Cody had finally found something worth staying here for. She looked around for Cody but found herself alone.

Esther thought they should have a spring wedding, since that was when she and Woodrow married and they’d been together fifty-two years. Mable thought they should get married right away to start trying for babies. Bea gave her advice on flowers and colors, Mrs. Jayne on flattering dress styles for Shelby’s figure. She smiled and nodded and giggled, getting more excited with each suggestion.

“Excuse us, official cook-off business,” Gina said, pulling Shelby from the clutches of well-wishers and propelling her toward a quiet shaded area. Shelby still scanned the crowd for Cody. “He’s with Jake.”

“Who?” Shelby stopped.

“Cody, he promised Jake a burger and pie. He couldn’t get through the herd of wedding planners so he said to tell you he’d meet you at the auction. I actually thought he was weaseling out of facing you, but whatever.” Gina sat on the grass and tugged Shelby down next to her. “And thank you. That cook-off was the perfect disaster and Logan can’t even blame me. I mean, did you see that chili fly? All over the Ladies of Sweet. It was like tearing through the Miss Sweet pageant stark naked on a Harley, only better.”

“You make it sound like I had a choice about helping you,” Shelby grumbled. “You blackmailed me!”

“I merely exploited your weakness,” she reminded, pulling two beers out of her handbag and offering one to Shelby. “Shit, girl. You got exactly what you asked for. Cody and JT were parading around with the big old trophy. Father and son, side by side, a testosterone hoedown. JT was the envy of every boy here.”

Shelby smiled a little at the reminder. Earlier that morning, Cody and Jake had played in the fatherson game, taking home a trophy for best pass. It wasn’t the award that made her heart warm though. It was a father-and-son moment that happened toward the end of the game.

Cody had been open and yelled for JT to throw the ball. There was no way Jake could make that pass. Jake’s teammates knew it. The crowd knew it. And Jake knew it. But Cody encouraged him, telling him they were a team and to trust him, so Jake pulled back and snapped the ball.

Shelby had been afraid to breathe, watching the ball spiral through the air only to start its decent way too soon. Even with all his might, Jake’s arm couldn’t cover that much distance and she could hear his teammates’ groans of defeat all the way from the stands. Shelby closed her eyes, not able to see the look of disappointment on Jake’s face, imagining what she would say to him to make it better, maybe even figuring a way for him to go to that football camp, when the crowd jumped to their feet and started screaming.

The next thing she saw, Cody had the ball and was running to the end zone. He didn’t make it, his flag was pulled ten yards into the run, but he’d caught Jake’s pass. And to a nine-year-old boy who wanted nothing more than to feel like he belonged, that was all that mattered.

“And you”—Gina set down her beer and grabbed Shelby’s arms—“the envy of every single woman in town. You’re marrying a Tucker. One of the three most elusive and sought after men in Texas history. Well . . . maybe that’s stretching it. And don’t forget that he just told the whole town you’re getting hitched,” Gina ended her closing argument, picking up her beer and taking a long swig. “It’s what you wanted. Case closed.”

It was what she wanted. He’d kissed her because he’d wanted to. Announced their engagement in the most public way without any pressure from her. Was stepping up as an amazing father. Then why did this seem so far from case closed?

“Holy crap!” Gina snatched Shelby’s beer. “He proposed because you’re with child.”

“I am not with child. And who says
with child
anyway?” Shelby whispered. “Plus, I’m on the Pill and we always use condoms.”

“How was the—” Gina waggled her eyebrows.

“Perfect as always.”

Gina blinked. Twice. Then tapped the tip of her chin with a finger. “You wore the new getup?” Shelby nodded. “Seduced him away from the shrine?”

“In the tack room.”

Gina stopped tapping. “Really? Wow, pretty steamy. Wait, was it steamy?”

“Beyond steamy.” It was playful and unbelievably hot and for a moment she’d felt that they had made progress. On the surface it was perfect, but emotionally, there was still something missing.

Baby steps
, Shelby reminded herself.
Baby steps.

“One word: saddle rack.”

“That’s two.” Gina held up the appropriate fingers to make her point. “At least you didn’t get
accidentally
knocked up again.” Gina gave her the beer back, then eyed her, perplexed. “Then why . . .” Gina circled her hand around Shelby’s face, which she guessed, based on how she felt, looked confused and about ready to shed tears.

“That’s it,” Shelby said, really loud. “Why? Why did he decide to tell everyone now? After a week of silence? What was it about this moment and today that made him break his self-enforced rule of privacy? And why didn’t he discuss it with me first?”

Gina sighed, annoyed. “I know it seems a stretch, him being a Tucker and all, but maybe he was going for, let’s see—romantic. Stranger things have happened.”

Maybe seeing what a good dad he was turning out to be gave him the confidence. And yesterday was pretty amazing. Or maybe, Shelby’s heart fluttered ridiculously fast in her chest, he was starting to realize that he loved her.

“At any point during your save-a-horse campaign, did you talk to
him
about how you’re feeling?”

“Um, not really.”

Gina sighed. “He’s a man, Shelby. M. A. N. They barely comprehend spoken words. And you expect him to read the ones in your mind?”

“You’re right. Tonight I’m going to lay it out there, tell him what I want.”

“Great.” Gina clapped her hands once. “Now, can you stop psychoanalyzing? It’s not one of your best traits. You’re a nurse, not a psychologist. Moving on, drink up.” Gina gestured for Shelby to chug. “The auction is about to start and I’m guessing that since you are A, here. And B, still talking to me, you haven’t seen the ad for your cupcakes?”

Shelby’s flutters turned to fists slamming into her stomach, making her wish she were holding something stronger than a beer. “What ad?”

“Excellent.” Gina smiled, dragging Shelby across Laurel Street and toward the auction block, which suddenly looked more like a chopping block. “They’re about to start and your cupcakes, my dear, are the prized item of the day.”

With that, Gina took the tray of coconut-cream cupcakes from a holding table and shoved them, and Shelby, out on yet another stage. This one, a metal riser on loan from the high school drama department, was decorated in the same Texas spirit with a “Summer Sweet Spectacular Auction” banner strung beside it, and Mister as the auctioneer.

“Well, come on, girl,” Mister admonished, shooing Shelby and her tray forward. “Been waiting for you to get here so we can start.”

Cody sat in the front row and gave her a cute wink as she practically stumbled over her feet. He was surrounded by a few dozen other men, including Woodrow’s poker buddies, who also gave her a wink. The longer she looked at the crowd, the fewer women she noticed in seats and the more suspicious she became.

Why would a bunch of old—and young—cowboys show up for a bakery auction? Then Shelby turned around and her stomach wrenched.

The minute she saw the five-foot-long and three-foot-high ad, with her cupcakes prominently displayed, all of the reasons for Cody’s
why
kicked her square in the gut. With her tray of cupcakes gripped tightly in her hand, Shelby backed up, one step at a time, desperate to get off the stage.

She’d fallen for Cody. Seen his announcement as something special. Stupidly believed they had a shot. But it was nothing more than his need to make sure every single cupcake-bidding man in town know—she was his.

Her back came into contact with someone.

“What are you doing?” Gina whispered.

“I have to get out of here. I need to go.”

“You can’t.”

Then the bidding started. Five dollars went to ten and quickly to fifty. Cody never once bid. Just sat there with his arms crossed, his eyes probing her. She couldn’t breathe, felt like a fraud. A big, blackmailing, ringless fraud.

She was a fool to think she could come here, to Cody’s hometown, propose to him, make love to him and expect to walk away with her heart intact. But she had fallen in love again and somehow stupidly convinced herself that he loved her back, that their marriage would be real, and that this was more than him doing the right thing.

“One hundred dollars. I have one hundred. Do I hear, one-twenty? One-twenty,” Mister said, scanning the crowd. “One hundred, going once.”

Shelby looked at Cody. He did nothing.

“Going twice.”

Cody uncrossed his arms, opened his mouth and . . .

“Five hundred. I will give five hundred for the lady and her cupcakes.”

Stunned gasps filled the air while all one hundred heads turned to see who had made the outlandish bid. Shelby knew who it was, felt her blood run cold the moment she heard that voice. The tray of cupcakes fell to the floor. She didn’t remember letting go but heard the metal tray crash on the concrete slab as every fear she’d harbored since she’d left San Francisco returned with deadly force.

This couldn’t be happening. Not here. Not now.