Page 66
Story: Breaking the Cowboy's Rules
“Sure thing. I can do it now.” She took the two charms and the bracelet to the counter. “Do you want the charms spread out or grouped together?”
That was a more weighted question than it should be.
Nico had never liked jewelry—just the delicate diamond stud earrings she’d received for her law school graduation that one of her brothers’ wives had gifted to her. But she liked the heavy weight of the charm bracelet and the symbolism. A story of her new adventures of the life she wanted to build. She wondered what else she would want to memorialize.
“Grouped together,” she finally decided. It would make more sense to have her time in Montana condensed.
The assistant deftly attached them. “You want me to wrap this with all the rodeo charms?”
“No,” she said quickly. “I want to wear it.”
The assistant showed her how the double clasp worked, and Nico held it up to the sunlight streaming through the door. She hadn’t meant to linger so long. She’d had the idea about the party favors—tying the rodeo-themed keychains to a scented candle, and Bodhi’s mom and aunts loved the idea. She thought she could get Langston to help her tie them on Sunday morning, since the wedding Langston had been supervising as part of her duties as the Graff event planner wrapped up yesterday.
Again, Nico checked the time on her phone. She could still make it.
She had no idea what to expect. But when she was with Bodhi, she didn’t worry about much—the past, future faded and there was only a delicious, warm, happy now.
She left the store, placed her purchases in a hidden compartment in her car, and walked across the bridge to the fairgrounds, pulling out the all-access pass that Bodhi had given her and draping it around her neck.
The stadium seating was packed.
“It’s not the bull riding yet is it?” she demanded of a teen boy selling bags of kettle corn.
“Nah, that’s at the end,” he said politely, but his expression briefly flashed shocked scorn. “It’s the queens that come out first.”
Queens? She looked back toward the dirty and sawdust-filled arena. It seemed like the last place to await royalty.
“Lot of the kids’ favorite part,” he said. “Men too. Kettle corn?”
She was about to say no, but considering that most people in the stands seemed to be munching on everything from popcorn to giant pretzels, hot dogs, corn dogs and nachos with gooey cheese that probably had no milk products and less protein and vitamins, kettle corn was probably one of the smaller sins.
“Thank you.” Nico paid for a small bag and followed a sign to the backstage area, glad that she’d stored the scented candles and rodeo keychain charms and ribbon from the fabric store in her car already.
She saw Bodhi stalking away from Beck past a line of very stylized women in blinged-out western wear and hair that was artfully blown out, curled, gelled and sprayed in what should look casually tumbled.
“Hey.” She caught up to him, looking for a trash can to dump the kettle corn. She shouldn’t have bought it. It wasn’t as if Bodhi could eat it. Following up a sugar and carb fest with getting tossed and stirred by a bronc or bull and food didn’t seem like a smart combination.
She had a breathless moment thinking that maybe he wouldn’t welcome her, but Bodhi turned and reeled her in.
“You made it,” he said. “Got all your errands done?”
“And a personal one.” She jangled her bracelet at him. “A souvenir of our week together.” She kept her voice light, even though her heart pinched at the thought.
Something skittered across his eyes, but he cupped her cheeks and laid his forehead against hers. “Not writing me off so early, are you?” he breathed.
“No.” Her heart did that tumbling jig like it always did when he was near.
His fingers were gentle on her wrist. “Pretty,” he said.
“I thought I could start collecting charms to go with my new adventures.” She’d aimed for breezy and felt she failed epically. His expression froze, then he drew a deep breath and smiled, but it didn’t come close to his eyes.
“I wish I’d thought to buy you this gift,” he said, his blue eyes somber.
“Bodhi Ballantyne, I bet you don’t even know where the jewelry store is in Marietta, and if you do, I am sure you have convinced everyone you are allergic to gold,” she teased.
“What makes you say that?” He entwined his fingers with hers and kissed her hands.
“I have deduced it from all the warnings I’ve been getting about your love ’em and leave ’em reputation this week.”
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