And Then You Dare (Crested Butte Cowboys Series Book 5) by Heather A Buchman Page B

her designs as good as Liv
said they were, or was her friend being polite?
    “Show Lyric, at least.”
    “Maybe later.”
    “No, now.” Liv walked over to Lyric before Tristan could stop
her. “Ask Tristan to show you the new women’s line, the designs are fabulous.”
Liv smiled in Tristan’s direction.
    “New designs? What? I’m so excited. Where are they?” Lyric
looked around as though she was looking for the actual pieces.
    “Right here,” Tristan answered, holding up her sketchbook,
which Lyric snatched out of her hand.
    Ten minutes later, Lyric and Liv were still flipping pages
back and forth, trying to decide their favorites. “When does production start?”
    “I asked the same thing,” Liv answered Lyric. “And then I told
her to make one of each in my size.”
    Lyric high-fived Liv. “Right on! For me too.”
    “What are you looking at?” asked Bree, walking down the
stairs.
    “New designs for Lost Cowboy.”
    “Let me see.” She took the book out of Lyric’s hand the same
way Lyric had taken it from Tristan.
    “Hey,” Lyric snipped. “You got a serious entitlement thing goin’
on. You think I won’t smack a pregnant woman? You’re wrong.”
    “Give her a turn.” Liv beamed at Tristan. “See? I told you to
share them.”
    “None of these will look any good on me,” groaned Bree. “Do
you have any designs for bigger women?”
    “You’re pregnant, not big,” insisted Lyric. “Before you know
it, you’ll pop that kid out and be back to a size two.”
    “I’ve never been a size
two.”
    Liv followed Tristan when she walked in the direction of the
patio. “You should know Lyric well enough to realize she wouldn’t hesitate to
tell you her honest opinion. If she didn’t like what she saw, she’d tell you.
As I said, your designs are fabulous. Have you thought of a name for the line?”
    Tristan had been thinking about it. She wasn’t ready to share
it yet. First she needed to present the idea to her father. She didn’t know
whether he would sign off on producing a whole new line of clothing. Telling
Liv, or anyone else, the name she’d come up with seemed premature, and she
didn’t want to jinx it.
    ***
    Bullet drove to the park in town, and let Grey loose on the
playground. He sat on the grass, close enough that he could catch him if he
climbed too high, or got into some other kind of trouble.
    Grey was just like him. His gram would say there was never a
minute in Bullet’s childhood when he didn’t have a scraped knee or elbow.
    “You must take after your father,” she’d tell him. “Your mama
could go play in a mud puddle and come out of it clean as when she walked
outdoors.”
    Bullet could see that. His mother didn’t necessarily stand out
in their group of friends, not visibly anyway. She looked and dressed the part
of a rocker’s wife. There was just something about her, her aura maybe, that
set her apart. Gram said she named his mom after Guinevere in the movie, Camelot. “Doesn’t she look just like Vanessa Redgrave?”
    Bullet had never seen the movie, and he didn’t know who
Vanessa Redgrave was. But when Gram showed Lyric and him the picture of the
king and queen in the movie, he had to admit his mom looked a lot like the
lady.
    He wasn’t sure about taking
after his father. Caleb met Guinevere when he was touring with his first band.
They were the opening act for a band that wasn’t much more suc cessful
than his was. His dad would say he’d never doubt his wife’s love, because she’d
loved him when he was a starving, struggling musician. Unlike some of his
bandmates’ girlfriends, she loved him before he made it big, she loved him
still, and would even if it all ended tomorrow.
    Bullet wasn’t sure if he would ever love a woman the way his
father loved his mom. He doubted his dad ever cheated on her either. He cheated
on Callie. While she was pregnant. If he and Lyric weren’t twins, Bullet might
think he was adopted. He didn’t seem to