Page 31 of Lone Star Longing
“I didn't tell him, but I guess someone did.” She held back her sigh of disappointment. At least she wouldn't have to have that awkward conversation with him. But she hadn’t even told her mother, and Beck knew. “And it won’t be easy to hide in a little while.” She lifted her shirt enough so Poppy could see her unbuttoned shorts, then dropped the hem again before anyone else could see.
“You’re going to need to go shopping for clothes soon.”
“I can just go to the thrift store, get some things. It’s not like I want to spend a lot on clothes I won’t wear long.”
“You also don't want Melissa Dunfry’s hand-me-downs, do you?”
Melissa had about four kids, and well, she hadn’t regained her shape. “I’m sure they have more than her maternity clothes.”
“Or we could go into San Angelo and heck, even go to Target or something and get you something cute, for when Jesse returns.”
Just mention of his name tightened Lacey’s belly. God, that was not a good sign. Was it because he’d been gone so long? Was it his reaction to her news? She hadn’t heard from him at all. He was due to go on leave next month. She’d thought she would go meet him in San Angelo when he got back, surprise him. See what his reaction was. And go from there.
She was fully prepared to raise this baby on her own. Her dad would help her if she needed it, but she was strong enough to do it on her own.
She straightened and pulled herself back to the present. She was here to have fun with her friends, not worry about Jesse or her future.
Beck returned with a foam cup of iced tea and set it on the rough wooden table in front of her, then sat on the other side of Poppy, looking toward the washer boxes.
“You think we’re going to get a chance to play?”
“When did the tournament start?” Lacey asked.
“I don't know, before I got here.”
“So maybe they won’t be playing much longer.”
“Maybe.”
“When was the last time you played washers?” she asked.
He chuckled. “It’s been a few years.”
She reached into her purse and pulled out a Crown Royal bag filled with washers that she’d painted with nail polish back when she had free time to do dumb stuff like that. “You can be on my team, then.”
He laughed as the others pulled out their bags of washers, some in the velvet Crown Royal bags, some in homemade bags, some in old drawstring bags. “I may be out of my league here.”
“It’ll come back to you, Con said, clapping him on the shoulder before sitting on the other side of him. “Tell us about your travels.”
Beck’s face reddened as the rest of the group urged him on. He glanced at her and she glanced away, looking into her cup of lemonade, not meeting his gaze. She didn't know whether he was waiting for encouragement or not, but he started talking about how he got the job with Riley Foster, and how awestruck he’d been, meeting these celebrities he’d grown up watching on the TV and now they were coming to him for answers. She thought he might sound a little wistful. He hadn’t told her why he’d come back, why he’d left Riley in the middle of the season. Not her business, of course, and she didn't know if he’d been fired for taking so long to get back after stopping off in Broken Wheel.
He talked about seeing Monaco and driving on the Autobahn, and how he’d felt like a complete rube and how he hadn’t really known what to eat because he hadn’t grown up eating anything like the food there, and it had been so rich that he’d made himself sick. Suddenly Lacey felt sorry for poor young Beck, out of his element, wanting to have an adventure but in no way prepared for it because he’d grown up in a tiny West Texas town.
Poppy, also, seemed to feel sorry for him, because she reached over and put her hand on his arm.
This time Lacey lifted her single eyebrow, something she could do that drove Poppy crazy.
She had to calm the envy that rose in her. She had no claim on Beck. She didn’t want a claim on him. She didn't need a complication in her already complicated life, especially a complication that wouldn't be around for long. He wouldn't be happy here in Broken Wheel. He did not want to be tied down.
She didn't want to tie anyone down.
She turned her attention back to the washers, especially to the boy playing with his dad. The kid was pretty good, standing on one box, concentrating as he balanced the washer on his finger and thumb, then flicked it toward the box ten away.
His washer landed pretty close to the first hole made of a metal pipe, and he tossed again, this one landing closer to the second hole. His dad muttered something from behind him, and the kid glanced back, adjusted his stance, and tossed. This one landed in the third hole, the target worth the most points. Lacey clapped, drawing a surprised look from the kid. She wasn't sure what to do when she made eye contact, so she just offered a thumbs up.
Then the boy moved off the box so the opposing team could toss their three washers, and man, they were good. Lacey could see the dad’s frustration when he took his turn. They were seven points behind. His anxiety didn't improve his aim, though, and he snarled something at the kid when his turn was up. The kid flinched initially, but caught himself and straightened, not meeting anyone’s gaze as he watched the second player on the other team toss.
Lacey tensed when the kid took his turn, and while he had a respectable three tosses, he didn't close the gap in their scores. His dad whirled on him, and Lacey was on her feet, ready to step in if the dad raised a hand to the kid.
