My gaze meets hers, and I smirk when her eyes widen and her lips part.
“I—it’s in the car.” She turns toward Dolly, her words tumbling out. “I was wearing it and accidentally took it home the other day, after—I, it’s in the car. I’ll get it after dinner.” Her already-pink cheeks darken.
The entire table falls into an awkward silence. I almost regret making her feel so embarrassed.
We all know what it means when a woman wears a man’s cowboy hat.
I let her suffer for a few more seconds before finally laughing and facingmy sister.
“Yeah, I think it’s in fine shape. When are you having the ceremony?”
Dolly’s eyes narrow at me before she answers, “In three weeks, out in the south pasture, under those two big oak trees. I want you to play a song for the first dance.”
I clutch my chest. “I’d be honored. What song?”
“‘Worst Way’ by Riley Green.”
“Done.”
Sam and Dolly’s wedding having to move up drastically because of Pops’s diagnosis is something we’re all silently miserable over. Sadly, we’ve known he was going to die from his addiction. It’s not that we want him to leave us, but the fact of the matter is that he’s been gone for a long time.
I’m thankful Dolly will get to have him here for this big moment in her life, even under these circumstances.
Rosie speaks from the other end of the table. “Dallas offered to help with invitations and anything else you may need.”
Dolly turns to look at Dallas. “Thank you. I really appreciate it. I’m trying to keep things as simple as possible. The main thing we’re waiting on is the dress.”
“I can’t wait to see what you picked out. You’ll look stunning in anything,” Dallas says.
My sister smiles warmly. “I’ll show you a picture later, when it’s just us girls. You should come over early to get ready with us.”
“I would love to. That’s Matt’s weekend, so I won’t have the mini tornados with me.”
As if to emphasize her point, Dutton chooses that moment to launch his half-eaten tortilla at his brother’shead across the table. Dawson feels it smack him in the face and loudly protests.
“Hey!” His face scrunches up. He picks up a corn chip and hurls it at his twin.
Wait. That means they’re not together anymore.
“Did you two get divorced?” I ask her.
She gapes at me, slowly nodding.
Shit. She thought I knew.
Relief, mixed with a double shot of hope, courses through me.
Dutton throws his empty cup and narrowly misses his twin’s head.
“Boys, that’s enough,” Dallas scolds.
It’s wrong and twisted, but the sound of her mom voice turns me on. I shift in my seat.
Mommy issues much?
My mom passed away in a tragic car accident when I was nine years old. I’ve had an unhealthy attraction to moms ever since I hit puberty and was old enough to start crushing on them.
Sam’s mom was never around either, so the first mom I remember being attracted to was Rosie’s.
