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“You don’t have any choice. Most of your investors will be at dinner tonight, and we want you there.”
Lyric made Tristan laugh. She was as bad as Liv, who’d told her, the last time she was in Crested Butte, that Billy and Jace would be mad at her if she didn’t come to the partner dinner.
“You don’t have to twist my arm; I’m happy to join you. I appreciate the invitation.”
Tristan couldn’t be in a better mood. She and Bullet “made up” over breakfast, where they also “made out.”
Not to mention, each of the women associated with Flying R Rough Stock invested more money in McCullough Cowgirl than she’d expected collectively. With their backing, the new line would be ready for a fall launch, which also meant a lot of press at the PBR finals, in October, and NFR in December.
Lyric volunteered to handle the media through press releases and scheduled interviews. Tristan had a lot of experience with media herself, but her attention would be better focused on the clothing. Bree’s sister, Blythe, worked for Lyric at RodeoChat, and volunteered to start promoting the line in international markets. Her first push would be in Australia, where she predicted it would explode.
Liv had been right about Paige Cochran. Mark’s wife, and Bree and Blythe’s mother, was the real businessperson in the bunch. They had a meeting scheduled the next day to hammer out the new brand’s business plan.
Wait until her father heard all this. She knew he’d be proud, and as long as she continued to design for Lost Cowboy, he’d be happy too.
When Tristan walked into the restaurant with Liv Rice, Bullet was surprised, happy, and anxious. He was happy she was here, but Lyric had gone too far in suggesting to their parents that she’d soon be their newest family member.
He walked over and pulled his sister aside. “Keep your comments about Tristan to a minimum tonight. You hear?”
“Let go of me.” Lyric pulled her arm out of his grasp. “Don’t worry. How dumb do you think I am? It’s a prediction that I know won’t come true if Miss McCullough thinks she’s being rushed. She’s not like the other women you’ve been involved with, Bullet. I hope you realize that.”
Bullet wanted to make a joke about Lyric not already knowing what he thought, but now wasn’t the time for joking.
“Of course I do. She’s a whole different caliber of woman.”
“You’re good enough for her. I hope you realize that too.”
Bullet wasn’t so sure, but he’d never completely win her over if he wasn’t confident in himself. He sensed that the only type of man Tristan would ever fall for would be self-assured.
He walked over to the table where she and Liv were being seated.
“Well, damn. I didn’t expect to see you tonight, Tristan. I sure am glad you’re here.”
Her cheeks turned their usual shade of pink. “I hope I’m not intruding. Lyric invited me.”
He held out his hand to her. “Intruding? Heck, no. Come on, there’s some folks I want you to meet.”
Tristan put her jacket on the back of the chair in front of her and was about to leave her bag on the seat.
“Bring it.” Bullet pointed to the jacket.
“Why?”
“’Cause you’re sittin’ with me,” he grinned.
“Whether I want to or not?” she teased.
“Yep. I told you I get what I want.”
“No, you didn’t. You told me you take what you want.”
“Same difference.”
Bullet introduced Tristan to his parents, who, thankfully, didn’t mention Lyric’s prediction about her joining their family. He saw Gram with Lyric, putting Grey in his high chair and Pearl in a booster seat. He hoped Tristan wouldn’t mind sitting with his kids. As busy as he knew he’d be, he didn’t want to miss a night with them, or with her.
“This is my Pearl,” Bullet said, walking over to his little girl whose face lit up when she saw her daddy. She held out her arms, and Bullet unfastened the clip keeping her in her seat. He picked her up and brought her closer to Tristan. When Grey saw what was going on, he raised his hands too. Lyric went to distract him, but Tristan, much to Bullet’s surprise, walked over to his little boy and took him out of the high chair.
“How’s your noggin’?” Trista
