Fiona strategy.”
“She’s right,” Jonas said. “And we should be taking notes to remember this unfortunate episode in our brother’s life.”
“We probably won’t,” Rafe said morosely, and sat down to finish his pie. “I heard once that men are slow learners.” And he wasn’t going to tell anyone that it was Judge Julie Jenkins, next-door ranch owner and Bode’s daughter, who had thrown that pearl of wisdom at his head.
DARLA LOOKED AT Jackie Callahan, co-owner of the Magic Wedding Dress Shop. “Pull harder,” she said. “I’m not letting out my dress. I just bought it.”
Jackie tugged at the fabric. “The satin just doesn’t want to give. And I don’t think it’s good for the baby… .”
Darla looked at herself in the triple mirror. “I’ve been eating a lot of strawberries. I crave them.”
“That shouldn’t cause so much weight gain,” Jackie said. “Not that you look like you’ve gained so very much.”
“On ice cream,” Darla said, aware that her friend was trying to be tactful. “Strawberries on top of vanilla ice cream.”
“Oh.” Jackie looked at her. “Maybe switch to frozen yogurt?”
“There’s only a week before the wedding. I think the waistline isn’t going backward on the measuring tape.” She looked at herself, turning around slowly, and then frowned. “Something’s not right.”
“I think the dress is beautiful on you.”
“Thank you,” Darla murmured. “I’m not sure what’s not quite right, but there’s definitely something.”
“Nerves?” Jackie said. “Brides get them. They want everything to be perfect. We’ve certainly seen our share of Nervous Nells in here.”
“I’m not nervous,” Darla said. What I am is not in love. And that’s what’s wrong. I’m not in love with the man I’m marrying. And he’s not in love with me.
“Do you want to try a different gown?” Jackie asked, and Darla shook her head.
“No. This one will do.” She went to change. The gown was not what was wrong. She could wear a paper bag, or a gown fit for a royal princess, and it wouldn’t matter.
“Well,” Jackie said as Darla came back out, “I think I know what the problem is.”
She looked at her, hoping her dear friend, business partner and maid of honor didn’t.
“You’re not wearing the magic wedding dress,” Jackie said. “You always said it was your dream gown.” She smiled at Darla. “It worked for me.”
Darla’s gaze slid to the magic wedding dress. It was true. Ever since Sabrina McKinley had brought the gown to her, saying that it brought true luck to the wearer, she had known it was the only gown for her. It was the most beautiful, magical dress she’d ever seen. Sparkly and iridescent, it made her catch her breath.
But she couldn’t wear it, not to marry someone she didn’t love with all her heart. She was fond of her fiancé. Dr. Sidney Tunstall was a perfect match on paper. Even he’d said that. He needed a wife for his career, and she … well, she needed not to think about the fact that somehow she’d gotten pregnant by Judah Callahan even though she knew he’d conscientiously used a condom every time they’d made love that incredible night.
He would never believe this was his baby.
“I don’t think I believe in magic,” Darla said.
Jackie looked at her. “Magic is what we sell.”
“I know,” Darla said, “but these days, I’m concentrating on the practical.” Practical, not romantic. No magic, just the bare business proposal. And one day, I’ll tell Judah the truth—after I’ve backed it up with a DNA test.
She’d had hopes that he was in love with her—but she knew better. Hijacking a guy just because he’d spent one evening giving her the pleasure of her life was no way to win his heart. And especially not when he’d been so very careful with protection. Judah was definitely a hunk who didn’t want to get caught. He’d always been the favorite of the ladies, and he never stayed with just one.
Practical. That was how it had to be.
JUDAH WAS INTO LIVING lucky. That was his new approach. He was going to swing by his tail in the jungle of life until he beat the jungle back. He was feeling mean and tough, and resolved to win. Focused.
He put his entry in for the rodeo in Los Rios, New Mexico, and smiled at the cute brunette who took his money.
“Haven’t seen you in a while, Judah,” she said. “Where have you been hiding?”
“On the ranch.” He didn’t want to think about Rancho Diablo right now. “But now I’m back, and I plan on winning. How many entries are there?”
“Nearly a hundred, all events totaled. You’re just in time. We were about to close registration.”
“Then I’m lucky,” he said.
“You could get luckier,” she said with a smile.
He took that in, maybe half tempted, then shrugged. “You’re too good for me, darlin’,” he said. He winked at her and headed off to find some drinking buddies, telling himself that he hadn’t accepted the brunette’s generous offer because he was in a dark mood—really dark. Refusing her hadn’t anything to do with Darla Cameron.
But thinking about Darla reminded him that she was marrying another man, and he definitely didn’t want to think darker thoughts than necessary, so he pushed her out of his mind. Broken hearts were a dime a dozen, so his wasn’t special. He headed to the bar, glad to see some cowboys he knew.
He was welcomed up to the bar with loud greetings.
“You’re in?” someone asked, and Judah nodded.
“I’m taking nine months on the circuit to see what I can do. If I can break even and stay healthy, maybe I’ll stay until I’m old and gray.” He took the beer that the bartender handed him, raising it to the crowd. “And one for all my friends.”
His buddies cheered. Judah grinned. This was what he needed. A buddy chorus of men who understood life as he did.
The little brunette slid into the bar, sending a smile his way. Female companionship wouldn’t kill him, either. He couldn’t slobber in his beer over Darla forever.
He’d left his condoms at home.
And that was probably lucky, too. Judah sighed and looked at his already empty bottle. He didn’t need to sleep with a female. He needed Darla, but Darla—damn her lovely just-right-for-him body—didn’t need him at all. Just when he’d finally kissed the princess of his dreams—after forgoing the temptation for years—the princess had turned into a faithless frog.
Which just showed you that fairy tales had it all wrong. It wasn’t the woman who always kissed the frog—sometimes
