Bravo Unwrapped by Christine Rimmer Page A

was already crystal clear—and Glory was looking at her strangely. “What?”
    â€œAre you in love with Buck?”
    Ouch. Direct hit. “No.”
    Glory leaned closer. “You hesitated. I saw you.”
    B.J. hardly knew what to say. She sputtered out, “Uh. Buck and I have…history. And issues.”
    â€œThat sounds bad.”
    â€œI can’t believe I’m talking to you about this.”
    Glory giggled. “You’re not. Not much, anyway. I’m the one doing all the talking. I think the world of Buck.”
    â€œOh, really?”
    â€œYeah. Buck’s pretty special. He’s kind of the exception that proves the rule, if you think about it. I mean, he was crazy-wild as a kid. Do you know that the night of his high-school graduation, he got drunk and went skinny-dipping under the Logan Bridge? That’s the bridge behind the Pizza Parlor. He got hungry after his swim, so he went on up to the Pizza Parlor—without bothering to put his clothes back on first.”
    Now, there was an image. Buck in the Pizza Parlor, naked and soaking wet, ordering himself a slice and a jumbo soft drink to go with it. “No, he never mentioned that.”
    â€œThere’s lots of wild things he did, before he headed off to Texas, supposedly to work in the oil fields. No one believed he was actually going to work—in the oil fields or anywhere else—when he left town. Because while he was here, he never could hold a job. He couldn’t even get one by the time he left. No one would hire him after he almost burned down the grocery store taking a smoke break in the back.”
    â€œYou’re kidding.”
    â€œI’m not. He never told you?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œHe was so hopeless. But so cute, you know, like all the Bravo boys? So…sexy, in that dangerous, what-will-he-do-next kind of way. Half the girls in town had a crush on him. And then, when he left, no one ever expected he’d amount to anything. But look at him now. He’s pretty famous, isn’t he?”
    â€œYes, he is.”
    â€œAnd he lives in New York City and writes stuff for good money. He’s written a whole book, even. It’s not a regular job—but it is a job. Sometimes, when I thinkof Buck, it gives me hope that Bowie might change, after all. You know?”
    B.J. said softly, “Yeah. I can see that.”
    Glory hung her head again and heaved a gusty sigh. “Well, I should probably get back to work, I guess….”
    â€œYou sure you’re all right?”
    â€œYeah. As all right as I can be, considering I’m a pregnant unmarried Catholic with a hopeless unemployed wild man for a boyfriend and I live in a small town where everyone spends all their free time gossiping about everyone else.” Glory stood and turned to look down at B.J. “Thanks for listening….”
    â€œAnytime.” Had she actually said that?
    â€œIt’s good…to have someone to talk to, sometimes. Someone not involved in your problem in any way. You know?”
    B.J. imagined it would be good. Maybe. She nodded.
    Glory beamed, all dimples and shining amber-brown eyes. “Well. Okay. Back to work.” And she turned and left B.J. sitting alone on the bed, marveling.
    No doubt about it now. B.J. had just done the bondy thing with another woman. It hadn’t been half bad, either—and she’d learned a thing or two about Buck.
    Not that it really mattered, what she learned about Buck. Uh-uh. What she’d learned about Buck didn’t matter.
    Not in the least…

Eight
    T hat afternoon, out on the enclosed back porch, Buck, Chastity, Glory and B.J. carved pumpkins. Twenty of them. Enough to line either side of the slate walk out front, from the white picket fence up the steps to the front door.
    Bowie showed up not long after the carving began and pitched in, too. Lupe made herself scarce for the event. Lucky Lupe. She was there