Bad Bride Good Cowboys (14 page)

Mickey felt jealous about Brady’s confidence, but down deep he knew the other man had brought up valid points. “She isn’t one to settle.”

“That’s my point. There’s no way, now she knows she can have us both and be happy—nothing else will do.”

Mickey shook his head. “She may be stubborn like me, but damn that girl has expensive tastes like you. Nothing but the best.”

Brady cracked a grin. “That’s what I have with the both of you and so help me, there’s no way Felicia is going to ever be forced to marry Paul.”

The undercurrent in his tone raised the hairs on Mickey’s neck. “You sound sure about that.”

“I am. Even if it means kidnapping the bride.”

Mickey chuckled. Brady’s words proved great minds did think alike. “The thought crossed my mind.”

His friend’s expression became serious. “Mark my words, it won’t come to that. She’ll be back.”

He nodded and hoped for all their hearts that Brady was right.                                                                                                                                           

This is death.

Felicia finally glanced up from the battle size book of wedding invitations. She darted a glance at her mother and brother who sat at the table with Paul and the wedding planner. Her mother lied about today. She told Felicia she and Collin were going to take her for lunch. Instead, they were sitting with Paul in a wedding boutique. Her car was at Jen’s place since she’d been staying with her since she’d walked out of the ranch house.

Mickey and Brady had been silent, no doubt out of respect for the two people posing as her caring family. She still resent
ed Collin and her mom both—not that either noticed. All her mother cared about was that the perfect wedding was back on—at least in her mind—because Felicia still had no intention of marrying the asshole. As for Collin, their mother was happy so what else mattered?

“These invitations are part of our exclusive line.” The wedding planner slapped the flamboyant invitations down. She met Felicia’s gaze and cast a snide smirk. “They’re very expensive.”

Holy hell and tacky as all get up.

She blinked and took
in the details of the top one. .

Is that white fun fur? Jesus, save me from this.

Her last thought was caught somewhere between a plea and a prayer. She heaved a sigh and glanced out the large window of the bridal shop she had no desire to be sitting in. Felicia wanted to be elsewhere…like back at the ranch with Mickey and Brady. Only now, she doubted them. The cowboys had failed her when she’d needed them the most and whatever love they had for her came second to their friendship with her brother.

Her heart constricted and again it hurt to breathe. She struggled to focus on the voices convers
ing around her.

“These are so classy,” her mother’s voice cut deep into her pity party and she turned to the woman who had brought her into the world. Clutched in her hands was a white invitation with pink ribbon bows.

“For a baby shower.” The words fell off her tongue before her brain could catch up.

“Don’t be cynical!” Paul scolded then rolled his eyes. “They’re expensive and therefore perfect.”

Felicia blinked at him in disbelief. He was kidding…right? But the expression on his face told her the bastard was sincere. “The ribbon is pink.”

He cast a leveled gaze in her direction; the contempt in his eyes wasn’t hard to miss. “It’s a God damn invitation. My mother will love them. Pink is her favorite color.”

I knew there was a reason I disliked the bitch.
“I hate it.” She struggled to breathe as the weight on her chest became heavier. “I hate pink.”

Paul furrowed his brows. “Since when?”

A bump to the table and a fidget from her brother had her cast a sideway glance. His brows furrowed as he studied Paul. “Since never.”

Points for Collin, the dude woke up.

“Please tell me this isn’t open for debate.” Her mother’s whine…yeah at best it could be described as a whine, broke the terse moment. “I agree with Paul, they’re perfect.”

Another knee jerk from Collin sent her purse off the table to the floor. A brand new copper penny rolled out
, then spun and stopped. Inhaling and exhaling became impossible. She hadn’t used the purse since the day in the bridal shop when trying on dresses. The penny had been from Brady, like countless others. Hundreds of others.

Felicia blinked and fought back the sting of threatening tears and bent to pick up the purse. She
rose and walked toward the penny. As she bent to pick it up she caught a glimpse of Paul’s hand half way up the wedding planner’s skirt.

Nausea kicked her stomach. She wanted to throw up. A leopard couldn’t change its spots and Paul would forever be a cheater.  Ignoring the rollercoaster of emotion
, her fingers wrapped around the copper coin. As she came to an upright position reality hit.

No more pennies. Ever.

As everything disappeared around her all she could see was her life flash before her eyes.

A penny for your thoughts.

Images, life experiences darted through her mind, all in living color as each time she was sad or heartbroken over the years, Brady found her, no matter where she hid and always had a shiny new penny in tote.

A penny for your thoughts.

Her stomach clenched then rolled as if she’d just taken a sucker punch to the gut. In one hand, she held her purse in the other between her forefinger and thumb she grasped the copper coin as if it were life support.

A penny for your thoughts.

“Felicia, your ghost white.” Her brother’s voice lifted her gaze and she struggled to focus on him as her lungs ceased to function.

“I’m dying inside,” she whispered, positive that Paul, her mother and the current situation was going to be her undoing. “There will never be another penny.”

Collin frowned and suddenly looked troubled.

“Good, God, who cares about a penny?” her mother’s voice carried nothing but contempt.

Felicia blinked at the woman she no longer knew. “I do.”

“Stop being dramatic and sit back down,” Paul’s demand, barked like a drill sergeant, was the final straw to break to her resolve.

“Listen to Paul,” her mom retorted as if disgusted.

She was done, broken and would never recover. Felicia shifted her gaze and glared at the man who she was supposed to marry. “Screw you! I’ll start being less dramatic when you stop trying to finger fuck the wedding planner. God! I was so stupid to even stick around this hell hole just to make my mother happy. Rot in hell.” She turned to the wedding planner. “Don’t worry sweetheart, he’ll screw you senseless—not that it will take much—then leave you for his next conquest. The dumbass doesn’t have a faithful bone in his body.”

“Felicia!” her mother’s mortified gasp, for once in her life
, held no power over her. The guilt trips, the expectations—Clarissa Morgan could shove them right in her uptight ass.

“Save it, mom.
I told you all the wedding is off, so I don’t even know why I’m inflicting this on myself.”

Again, her stomach rolled and she needed air or the contents of her stomach, which consisted of saltines and nothing else
, was going to land in a splatter spot of puke on the blue carpet. Her lungs wouldn’t inhale or exhale, her stomach hurt and her heart ached beyond what words could even start to describe.

Without a glance
at the shocked faces, she bolted to the door of the wedding shop and pushed through the glass doors to the freedom outside. She stumbled outside and forced air into her lungs in a gasp similar to a woman who had nearly suffocated.

“Felicia!” She turned to the owner of the voice and her heart s
ank to the cement pavement beneath her feet. Standing there wasn’t the sorry fiancé, or her protective and concerned mother, instead she blinked up into her brother’s dark and worried gaze. “Are you okay?”

“No. I’m not.” the simple response was all she could muster. This was death—officially. There was no way she’d recover from the last couple weeks and the gaping hole in her heart.

Collin’s brows furrowed deeper. “Breathe, what the hell happened back there?”

She closed her eyes and the traitorous tears slipped between her lids and lashes. “Everything was so wrong, and then when the penny rolled across the floor I knew…”

Her brother shook his head. Confusion etched itself in his face. “I don’t understand.”

Fresh hot tears rolled down her cheeks. “How the hell could you? You were never there.” Her temper collided with grief and she missed Brady and Mickey more than
she had thought possible.

Collin flinched and stepped closer to where she stood. “You’re right
, I wasn’t there and I should’ve been. But I’m here now.” His expression revealed his sincerity. Too late, the damage was done and beyond repair.

“There will never be another penny.”

Collin studied her with concern. “Honey, I don’t understand.” He inhaled deeply. “Cross the street, get a pack of gum. You’ll get at least one penny.” Desperation had infiltrated his voice. “I’ll even give you the dollar.” He reached for his wallet and again reality hit.

He doesn’t know
about the pennies and he doesn’t know me.

“Keep your money. Keep your opinion and do me a favor...”

“You’re my sister, name it and it’s done.” Desperation covered his words like slick rain on asphalt.

Hope
was lost. “Forget we’re related. Forget me. Go in that wedding shop, kiss mom’s ass, and tell her I’m not marrying Paul, she can. It’s over, I’m done and I refuse to endure one more minute of any of you.” She spun away and started walking, needing to put distance between her and what the world called a sibling.

“Felicia!” His call fell on deaf ears.

She shoved the penny into the safety of her purse and rooted around for her cell phone. Finally, her fingers curled around the device and she withdrew it. More tears fell. Her vision blurred but with determination, she found the number she needed and pressed call.

The line rang three times then picked up. “Hello?”

Hearing Jen’s voice induced more tears. “I can’t do this anymore.” A sob broke from her throat.

“Felicia…what the hell?”

She sniffled and struggled to find her voice that had washed away in the avalanche of heartache and grief. “I’m dying. My heart aches and you’re the only person on the planet who might care.”

“Of course I care.” Her friend sighed. “What’s going on?”

She ran her hand across her cheeks, trying to erase the watery marks of grief, but when she did; her lashes closed and replaced them with new tracks of hot tears. “I walked out of the bridal shop; I’m walking away from all of them. I hurt to the bottom of my soul—and my family is the biggest culprit.”

Another sigh echoed through the receiver. “Oh God!”

Felicia sniffled. “What?”

“You’re as miserable as them.” She sounded close to tears, which unsettled Felicia; she needed her friend strong during her darkest hour.

When her heart had stopped beating over the penny and reality had forced her body into further shut down, her brainpower seemed to have shut down as well. “Jen, who are you talking about?”

Silence stretched for several seconds, and then her friend spoke. “I’m talking about Mickey and Brady.”

Felicia’s plans to completely walk away and drive to another state came into question. She thought of the two cowboys and ventured to ask the question, which might very well shatter the remainder of her heart. “What do you mean?”

Jen’s breathing
was hesitant. “They miss you a lot.”

Tears flooded down her cheeks and she was positive they were never going to stop. “Then why haven’t they called or texted or—”

“You’re not going to like this.”

Felicia swallowed and again wiped her cheeks
, trying to get her tears under control. “What else is new? Lately it’s the story of my life.”

“Mickey said your mother called and warned him and Brady to be respectable and keep their distance and not to contact you in anyway. She also had them start packing up your stuff to send to the condo you and Paul have
in Los Angeles.”

Anger
and betrayal hit her full force, a terrible burning fire of emotions. Her mother had gone too far this time. “I’m no longer going to be at the condo. You know this; I’ve been staying with you.”

“I know. Felicia, call Mickey and Brady. You and I both know it’s always been them. Why shouldn’t you be happy?”

“Because I want to share a life and a bed with two men and I don’t care if I ever talk to my mother again.”

“Don’t do anything you’ll regret.” Jen’s concern reached through the miles. “Where are you going to go?”

“I don’t know, but I do know I can’t keep going like this.” She swallowed back her shredded nerves and the churn of bile rising in her throat. “I’ll call you later.”

Felicia ended the call and glanced around. It was time to get
the hell out of Los Angeles and think.