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Noelle glanced down at her pink sweater and tight blue jeans. “I’m dressed appropri—oh, no, I got some of Bobby Jay’s barbecue sauce on my sweater and I just bought it. I need to get some prewash on it before it stains.” She hurried out of the kitchen.
When she was gone, Liberty took over at the sink and wasted no time rinsing the pile of forks, spoons, and knives. “That girl needs to do some major growing up.”
“We all did when we were her age.” Cloe finished boxing the plates and reached for the packing tape to seal up the box.
“Not you, Clo. You’ve always been responsible. Something I’ve always admired.”
Cloe hadn’t been very responsible last night. What had she been thinking getting drunk and letting some man spoon her? Of course, she was lucky it had been Rome who found her and not some other man. Rome had always been trustworthy and honorable. It didn’t hurt that he had never found her attractive.
The memory of his hard length pressing against her popped into her head again, but she pushed it away. His erection had just been a morning hard-on. Brandon had gotten those . . . just not quite as big.
“I’m sorry about Brandon, Clo.”
Liberty’s words pulled her from her thoughts and she glanced at her sister to find Liberty had turned away from the sink and was watching Cloe with concerned eyes.
“I guess that explains why you were so upset at the wedding.” Liberty’s eyes darkened. “Are you sure you don’t want to go to College Station and key his car? Or maybe set it on fire? The asshole more than deserves it for stringing you along for six years.”
Liberty’s blunt honesty could really hurt at times. “I don’t think he meant to. I think it just took him that long to figure out I wasn’t the right woman for him.”
Liberty’s temper flared. “Not the right woman for him? That asshole wasn’t good enough for you. He was lucky you even gave him the time of day. And I hope you told him that. I hope you lit into him and told him that you were the best thing to ever happen to him and it will be a cold day in hell before he finds someone as dependable, hardworking, and organized as you.”
“Thank you, but I don’t think dependable, hardworking, and organized are top of any man’s list when looking for a wife.”
“Well, they should be. And I don’t want you thinking any less of yourself because Brandon couldn’t see your worth. I didn’t want to say this when you had your heart set on marrying him, but I never did think he was worthy of you. As far as I’m concerned, you’re better off without him.”
That was easy for Liberty to say. Liberty had always been the most popular Holiday sister. She was beautiful and outgoing and commanding. When she walked into a room, men and women alike sat up and took notice. Women wanted to be her best friend and men fell at her feet and groveled for just a simple smile.
Cloe, on the other hand, could walk into a room and no one would notice. She had always been fine with that. She had never liked a lot of attention. But a lot and none were two different things.
That was why Brandon had been her first real boyfriend. Conversing with men was just another thing she didn’t excel at. But with Brandon, they had so much in common, conversation had come easily. He had made her feel comfortable and their life together had taken on a nice routine. There was nothing Cloe loved better than routine. They drove to work together. They drove back to their apartment together. He rode his Peloton while she cooked dinner. Then they ate, graded papers or worked on lesson plans, and then went to bed. Every Saturday night they had sex.
Occasionally, it had felt like something was missing. But only occasionally. Now she realized that something had been missing. She just had been too stupid to realize it.
“I got the stain out.” Noelle walked back into the kitchen.
Liberty stared at the sweater Noelle had changed into. “White, Elle?” She shook her head and snorted. “And you were a straight-A student.”
Once everything was washed and boxed up, Cloe helped Liberty and Noelle carry the boxes out to Liberty’s SUV. They were loading them into the back when Cloe heard the sound of a car coming up the road. She figured it was either Daddy’s or Hallie’s truck. Mama, Daddy, Hallie, and Belle had gone into town to return the chairs and tables they’d borrowed from the First Baptist Church for the wedding.
The car that pulled up in behind Liberty’s SUV was a truck.
It just wasn’t Daddy’s or Hallie’s.
This truck was big and black with huge tires and plenty of shiny chrome . . . and a front license plate that had the Remington Ranch’s double R brand on it.
There was only one reason Cloe could think of for Rome being there.
He had come for his tuxedo jacket.
Not only did she not want Mimi to know she and Rome spent the night together in the hayloft, she also didn’t want her sisters knowing. She didn’t worry about them telling Mimi. They had all taken an oath long ago to keep each other’s secrets. What she worried about was setting a bad example for her sisters. And spending the night in the hayloft with a man you barely knew was setting a bad example.
So before Rome even got both brown cowboy boots on the ground, Cloe was there to greet him.
“Rome! What a surprise.”
He looked a little startled by her exuberant greeting. Probably because Cloe had never been exuberant in her life.
“Uhh . . . hey.” He swept off his hat. “I just stopped by to—”
