Wild Girl (Wild Men Texas #3) - Melissa Belle Page 0,40

all.” She shakes her head. “No way. That’s not about you, Mace. It can’t be.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Ginny and I straggle into Brick’s nearly an hour late.

Brick’s Country Store and Barbecue is written on the giant neon sign at the entrance to the restaurant. Stop for ice-cream, beer, brisket, chicken and sausage, take-away or eat-in service, and pay at the pump gas.

“Can’t believe Gigi agreed to hold a dinner here,” I mutter as we cross over the wooden-planked front porch and step inside. “I love this place, but Gigi?”

“I know,” Ginny says. “But she says her parents love a good barbecue.”

We take our time walking through the front of the restaurant, and then we stop and look around. As I gaze over the sea of picnic tables covered in red-and-white checkered tablecloths, I spot Mama standing with Daddy and Evan in the back left corner. All the makeup in the world can’t hide the rage billowing behind Mama’s mascara and rouge as she sees me.

I decide it’s best to get step three of my plan over with now, so I stride boldly across the sawdust-covered floor toward my mother. Ginny’s right behind me, and we both come to a sudden halt in front of my mother.

“You know what your daddy did all day?” Mama says before I can speak. “He cleaned his guns.”

My father makes sure to clean his guns on special occasions. For each of his daughter’s births, each of their first dates, and apparently when his oldest daughter reveals to the world that she’s cursed.

Daddy nods at me calmly. “Now that’s true, Mace. I did. The coon keeps getting into our garage, and it gives me good target practice. But I’m not angry with you, darlin’. Just worried.”

He does look worried—his cheeks are flushed and his forehead furrowed. I give him a second glance, but before I can say more, Evan interjects.

“I thought you came off beautifully in the paper, Macey.” Evan beams at me. “Just lovely.”

Ginny takes a tentative step toward my mother. “Mrs. Henwood, the story really isn’t all bad. Macey sounds like quite the heroine in it, actually.”

Mama glares at Ginny. “While I admire your pluck in walking away from a marriage before it ate you alive, I respectfully disagree with you on this—my daughter should never have made our secrets public!”

“Mama.” I put my hand on her arm. “I didn’t plan to tell Skip. Okay? It popped out, and then I couldn’t take it back. And he ran with it.”

“You gave away sensitive information,” she shout-whispers at me. “Privileged information between a mother and daughter.”

“Oh, for goodness sakes, Mama!” My hands go to my hips, and the gloves come off. “You practically made up the whole thing! And it’s not your decision what I do with my life, anyway. I can’t believe I let you talk me into keeping the dumb ‘curse’ a secret all these years. Your obsession with finding Mr. Darcy among the living is a ridiculous pastime! He was a made-up character. A mythical man—it’s easy to be a hero when you’re not real!”

I look past Mama at Logan surrounded by Gigi’s family. He’s dressed casually in black jeans and a plaid button-down short-sleeve shirt that highlights his tanned, fit arms. He’s antsy, though. He keeps shifting from one foot to the other and looking around.

I wonder if Skip’s story has anything to do with his mood. I charged my phone before I left, but I never checked my messages. But first things first.

I remember my plan and reach into my purse.

When I hand Mama the draft of my novel, she wants to still be mad. But she’s over it in five seconds.

“I knew you’d make something of yourself!” she says joyfully. “Who needs college when you’re a Henwood, right?”

Daddy looks over Mama’s shoulder. “What’s that, doll?”

My father was never a violent man. But suddenly, I’m scared. I’m scared to tell him I want to leave The Cowherd for real. I’m scared he actually has the legal right to stop me because I know that contract could bind me in the bar for life.

“I wrote a book,” I tell him slowly, watching his face carefully for a response.

I want to add that this is proof I need to walk away from the family business once and for all. I want to tell him I’ve even found a replacement for myself, but the sudden dryness in my mouth has rendered me incapable of speaking.

He looks at me. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

And that’s it.

“Huh.” With an odd