The Trouble With Tomboys (22 page)

Their second child almost made it to full term.

Six weeks before her due date, Amy went into labor.

And Grady, like any excited, expectant father, rushed her to the hospital.

Since the baby was breech, they performed an 174

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emergency cesarean. Grady was allowed into the delivery room where he watched the entire

procedure. But problems developed, complications he didn’t understand from the medical jargon the doctor and nurses used. More help rushed into the room to assist, and Grady was asked to leave. But he didn’t budge. And everyone was too busy to scoot him along.

He watched Dr. Carl pull the limp, bloody form from his wife, and he continued to watch as they tried to revive the boy through chest compressions.

When one nurse shook her head, Amy opened her eyes and asked to see her son. The doctor told her to relax.

“Just take it easy, Amy,” he soothed.

Amy’s weak voice repeated, “Baby.”

Grady took her hand, but she didn’t seem to feel the pressure of his fingers gripping hers because she was too occupied looking the other way and taking in the sight of their lifeless infant.

“No,” she gasped in a hoarse voice and reached for Bennett. “No.”

“Amy,” Grady whispered, lifting her hand to his mouth and gently kissing her knuckles.

His only answer was the long steady beep of her heart monitor as she died. She didn’t fight; she merely looked at her dead child and gave up. Not once did she look at him or ask for him. It was like she didn’t consider him worthy enough to live for.

It took a while for him to forgive her for that.

Blowing out a shaky breath, he stared down at the picture book opened on his lap. He blinked when he saw a snapshot of Amy in her wedding dress, grinning up at him.

Frowning, he tried to recall when he’d left the kitchen and come into the living room to look through his wedding album. But here he was.

Without thinking, he turned the page. He looked 175

Linda Kage

so damn young in those frozen images, and Amy was incredibly alive, glowing like a typical bride. Photo after photo, he flipped through the entire book. She’d wanted a big, all-out wedding. She’d planned every single detail down to those stupid sacks of birdseed to throw. She’s decorated each bag with tiny flowers and colored ribbon.

Grady shook his head over the memory and

winced, leaning forward to study the last picture of their hands, bearing their wedding rings. He’d spent so much time picking out her ring.

Lifting his face, he realized he hadn’t undergone such consideration for B.J. He’d walked into the jewelry store and bought the first diamond he saw, thinking it’d do fine.

Experiencing a pang of doubt, Grady wondered what the hell he was doing. His courting

mannerisms for B.J. were pathetic compared to the lavish ritual he’d expended on Amy.

It didn’t seem fair for some reason.

But then he frowned and assured himself he had nothing to feel bad about. B.J. didn’t deserve the same treatment he’d given Amy. He’d loved Amy with his whole heart. With B.J., it was just...what?

She was pregnant. They were getting married.

End of story.

Okay, he couldn’t honestly say there were
no
feelings for his soon-to-be second wife, because desire was a pretty strong emotion. And in truth, he liked being around B.J. It was actually refreshing to be in the company of someone who didn’t pity him.

For a few minutes there, when he’d thought

she’d only slept with him in Houston because she’d felt sorry for him, he’d been devastated. But she’d since assured him none of it had been sympathy sex.

He believed her too, because she didn’t act

particularly sensitive toward him. Actually, she was the most unsympathetic-acting person he knew. Not 176

The Trouble with Tomboys

that she was cruel and uncaring. But she stayed refreshingly normal, treating him like she treated everyone.

That was probably why she was the only person with whom he could talk about Amy. She’d didn’t turn all soft, giving him a pitying look and making him want to snarl and snap at her. And though the effect she had on his libido was so intense it was frankly unsettling, he was still able to relax around her more than he had anyone else in the past two and a half years, since neither of them was worried about bringing up his dead wife. In fact, they talked about Amy openly as if she’d actually existed and not just as someone who’d died tragically.

Realizing how nice that fact was, Grady calmed.

He blew out another breath and set the picture album aside.

“I can do this,” he told himself.

He could marry B.J. He could start a new life with her. And he could survive past this era of constant grieving.

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B.J. worried she was going to yak through the entire ceremony. Arriving at the courthouse half an hour early, she had to admit, she was a little unnerved when she discovered the ever-prompt Grady hadn’t shown up yet. Not that she’d blame him if he cried off. But damn, even tomboys didn’t want to get jilted at the altar.

Her stomach had already been weak up to that point. And she was cranky because she hadn’t been able to have her morning coffee for going on three weeks now. But the absence of Grady’s truck in the parking lot tipped the scales. She hurried into the building, found the nearest bathroom, and threw up until there was nothing left.

When she stumbled out five minutes later, weak and tired, she immediately started to unbutton her blouse. The white T-shirt she had on underneath seemed to be free of chunks, but she had to admit, a plain white T and blue jeans was not the best outfit for a bride.

She hadn’t thought the new dark pants looked that bad with the blouse she’d originally put on. But with a plain white undershirt, the jeans suddenly looked less crisp and more...average. Glancing at her watch, she cursed when she saw how late it was. She probably didn’t have time to go home and find a new top. Suddenly, she laughed, realizing what she was doing. Waiting until she was twenty-seven was a little too late to finally start worrying about her appearance. But then she glanced up and saw Grady 178

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approaching. Her smile fell flat. He wore slacks, a starched shirt, and a tie.

Damn it.

She couldn’t stand next to him and get married when she looked like this and he was decked out in that. “I need to change,” she said without preamble.

Lifting the wadded blouse in her hand, she added, “I just got sick all over my shirt.”

His blue eyes took in the shirt and then rose to her face. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she nearly snapped, trying to hold back her impatience. She needed to get a move on it, though, or she’d be late for her own wedding. “I just need to go home real quick and—”

“You look fine,” Grady interrupted.

She snorted. “Says the man whose damn-near

wearing a tux. Just look at us, Slim. Talk about mismatched.”

He merely quirked his lips at her distress. “I can’t imagine you owning a dress.”

“Because I don’t,” she said, appalled by the very idea. “But I do have some black slacks. I could—”

“B.J.,” he said, grasping her elbow. “It doesn’t matter what you wear. We’re still going to be married either way.”

B.J. blew out a breath. “Well, if you don’t care, then I certainly don’t give a rat’s ass.”

He grinned, and his smile immediately shot a spear of white-hot pleasure down her spine and through her arms and legs. God, she loved his full smile. It’d been in remission far too long. But what she liked even more was the fact she’d been the one to make his eyes crinkle and the corners of his lips tilt up.

“Amy always said you’d turn out beautiful,” he murmured, skimming a purely male, appreciative gaze down her body.

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B.J.’s heart stopped beating. For a full second, she could only gape. He’d just called her

beautiful...or at least implied it. Be still her heart, the man had complimented her. What a day this was turning out to be. First a smile, then a comment on her looks. She was starting to feel like an honest-to-God bride.

Afraid tears would follow, she bit down hard on the inside of her lip.

She was beyond grateful when a voice called,

“Grady!” from behind them, interrupting the

moment.

Both B.J. and Grady turned to find his younger brother approaching. Caine Rawlings was one year younger than her, but they’d shared a few classes in high school. He was a famous photographer who lived in some big city, she couldn’t remember which—maybe Dallas. But she hadn’t known he was going to show today.

Obviously, neither had Grady. He stared at his brother in shock. “What’re
you
doing here?”

Caine ignored the question until he’d folded Grady in a hard hug. Then he said, “I’m here to see you tie the knot. What do you think I’m doing here?”

Grady frowned in confusion. “I thought you

couldn’t make it.”

Caine snorted. “Like I was going to miss my big brother’s wedding.” Then he turned and grinned at B.J. “Especially to this wild thing.”

The two brothers were strikingly similar in

looks, but Caine was shorter—probably the same height as B.J.’s five ten—and he was stouter than Grady. Plus his playful blue gaze had nothing on the intensely hot look Grady could give.

Grinning at her, he murmured, “Banner,” and

pulled her into a hug, much the way he had Grady.

“Welcome to the family, kid.”

She couldn’t recall ever being hugged by Caine 180

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Rawlings before. But it was strangely comforting, as if she really was welcomed into his circle of loved ones.

“Banner?” Grady repeated in confusion.

When B.J. glanced at him, she found him

frowning thoughtfully. It took him a second to realize what his brother meant. Then his eyes popped open wide.

“Is
that
what the ‘B’ in your name stands for?”

He swung toward his brother. “How in the world do
you
know her name?”

Caine merely grinned and gave a mischievous

shrug. When Grady turned back, pinning her with an accusing gaze, B.J. sighed.

“I lost a bet with him in high school,” she

explained with a roll of her eyes. “And the wager was for me to tell him what B.J. stood for.”

Grady looked back to Caine, apparently not

liking the fact his own brother knew more about her than he did.

“Hey, she made me swear not to tell anyone,”

Caine defended, still grinning.

Grady swung back to B.J. “What does the ‘J’

stand for?”

She sighed again. “Didn’t you pay attention to my name on the marriage license?”

He gave her a blank look. Then he scratched his head and murmured, “I didn’t even think to look.”

“Don’t tell,” Caine advised, sending her a

devilish smile and a quick wink. “Not knowing will bug him to death.”

Grady didn’t get a chance to pry anymore,

anyway. Everyone else showed up, seemingly all at once. Grady’s parents, grandfather, and Jo Ellen appeared along with Cooper and baby Tanner. Her father strolled in next with her three brothers and sister-in-law, Phyllis. Thankfully, Buck and Phyllis had found a sitter for their little hellion.

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Jeb and Rudy trooped directly toward her, while Leroy stopped a few yards away with Buck and his wife. Rudy was the first to speak. Holding out two envelopes, he said, “Here. This one’s from the Smardos. Junkyard would’ve liked to come, but he thought it best to stay away.”

B.J. stared at the card in surprise. Well, hell, she hadn’t expected to receive gifts for marrying Grady. Getting him felt like a special present all by itself. However long he could stand to be married to her, he was going to be hers.

“Uh...thanks,” she said, feeling uncomfortable as she took the card her brother thrust into her unsuspecting hands.

“And this one’s from me,” Rudy said, pushing another card at her. “Actually, it’s from all of us, but no one else had the balls to give it to you.”

He sent a meaningful look toward Pop. But Jeb merely cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck.

“So, uh, what do I got to do at this thing?” he asked.

For the first time, she noticed he was wearing a new pair of overalls and his thin, gray hair had been slicked back as if recently brushed with a wet comb.

Feeling a sudden spark of adoration for him, she smiled.

“Don’t worry, Pop. This isn’t one of those

conventional weddings. You don’t have to walk me down the aisle or anything.”

“Oh,” he said, and for a second she could’ve sworn he looked disappointed. But then he blew out a breath and gruffly said, “Thank God.”

B.J.’s grin spread. She was about to tease and put him on the spot by saying something like, ‘unless you really want to,’ but both men tensed, glancing over her shoulder at someone’s approach. She turned 182

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and found Jo Ellen there, holding out two small wrapped presents.

As Jeb and Rudy subtly backed off, moving

automatically toward the rest of their family, Jo Ellen grinned and handed the gifts over. “Emma Leigh says she’s sorry she couldn’t make it today.

But this is from her and her husband, Bran.”

She piled the package in B.J.’s quickly filling arms. “And this is from me, Cooper, and Tanner.

Actually, it’s really for the baby. It’s a book.
What to
Expect when You’re Expecting
.”

B.J. blinked down at the second gift Jo Ellen had given her. “Really? Well, hot damn, I didn’t know I could buy instructions for the little ankle bitter.”

Jo Ellen laughed and then impulsively threw

her arms around B.J. Since her hands were already full, B.J. couldn’t hug back, so she stood there in stunned shock as Grady’s sister kissed her cheek and said into her ear, “Welcome to the family. Oh, and thank you for not sleeping with Cooper.”