A Winter Wedding

“I won’t say a word.”

“What are your plans tonight? You could join us.”

He’d clued in to the primary reason Kyle had called. They used to go out on weekends all the time—before Phoenix came back into Riley’s life. “That’s okay. I just wanted to let you know I’ve got my ministerial duties under control. You can check that off your list.”

“I appreciate it. With her family being so dysfunctional, we’ve got our hands full.”

“I’m sure.”

“Thanks for being part of everything.”

“Happy to do it.”

Kyle sighed as he hung up. He supposed he could go over to his parents’ house—or Ted and Sophia’s, Cheyenne and Dylan’s or any of his other friends. But his parents wouldn’t be up to much, and most of his friends had children or were pregnant. Callie had had a liver transplant before she married Levi, so her pregnancy was high-risk. She had to be careful to take her meds and get plenty of rest.

Bottom line, he didn’t want to spend his Friday night watching TV for a few hours and then go to bed early. That wouldn’t do much to distract him from the beautiful woman staying at his house.

His cell phone rang. He hoped it wasn’t Noelle, calling to thank him for the water heater. That would be like her. She used any excuse to contact him, even though he didn’t need her thanks. He needed some space. From her.

It wasn’t Noelle, thank God. But it was Brandon. Kyle wasn’t sure that was any better. Since Lourdes had arrived, the whole issue of Olivia had been pushed into the forefront of his brain—and suddenly he wasn’t dealing with it as effectively as he had for the past several years.

It felt so damn fresh...

But it wasn’t, he reminded himself. And this was his stepbrother, someone he loved. So he answered. “’Lo?”

“Hey, glad I caught you.”

“What’s going on?”

“I was wondering if you might have a few minutes this afternoon. I’d like to talk to you. I could swing by your office.”

Kyle sat up straighter. Talk to him about what? They’d seen each other at Black Gold this morning. Brandon could’ve mentioned anything he had to say then. Unless it was private. But what did he need to convey that he couldn’t bring up in front of their friends?

Was he finally going to confront Kyle about Olivia?

Closing his eyes, Kyle rested his head on the back of his chair. If that was Brandon’s intent, he supposed he had it coming. But what could he do? He wasn’t holding on to those old feelings on purpose. “Sure. I’ll be here all afternoon. Feel free to swing by whenever it’s convenient.”

“Will do,” he said. Then Kyle began watching the clock, wondering how, exactly, Brandon would approach The Olivia Issue—and what he’d suggest they do about it.

* * *

Someone was in the house; Kyle must be home.

Lourdes hadn’t intended to sleep all day, but when she heard the noise in the kitchen, she opened her eyes to discover that it was dark outside. Apparently, she’d been out for a number of hours—so why did she still feel so utterly drained?

“Buck up,” she muttered to motivate herself. But the brief flutter of strength those two words gave her was crushed beneath the thought of Derrick.

Had he tried to call?

She reached for her phone to check.

There were no texts from him. No calls, either.

Her heart sank. He’d given her up that easily? He’d chosen Crystal?

Wincing at the pain that slammed into her, she curled into a ball. Rejection happened. Heartbreak happened. Setbacks happened. She wasn’t alone, and she had the same choices as anyone else. She had to overcome her challenges, despite how daunting they seemed.

She could start by getting out of bed.

In a minute, she told herself and burrowed back under the covers—until the smell drifting into her room encouraged her to sit up. Kyle must’ve brought dinner. It was turning out to be a really good thing that she’d had to stay with him. If she’d been in the rental, she’d be going without, because she sure as heck didn’t feel like driving into town. If she couldn’t even make herself comb her hair or put on makeup, she wasn’t likely to do much else.

With the promise of food as motivation, she dragged herself out of bed. She had to stand still for a few seconds to regain her equilibrium, then shoved a hand through her hair to straighten out some of the tangles. “Smells delicious out here. What’d you bring?” she asked with a yawn as she shuffled down the hall.

She reached the kitchen a second later only to discover that it wasn’t Kyle at all. Some woman, who seemed to be about her age, was in front of the stove. She’d been putting various dishes in the oven, but now she just stood there, gaping at Lourdes. “Who are you?”

Lourdes didn’t have to answer that question very often. These days, most people recognized her. But she knew that at the moment, she didn’t look much like her pictures. “I’m...I’m Kyle’s tenant,” she said, hoping to avoid full disclosure and all the exclamations that would go with it. “Who are you?”

“I’m his ex-wife.”

Kyle had led Lourdes to believe things were over between him and his ex. So what was she doing bringing him dinner? Especially a dinner for which she’d obviously gone to a lot of work?

The woman’s eyes narrowed as if she wasn’t too keen on finding a possible “rival” in Kyle’s house. “Did you just roll out of bed?”

“I did.”

“But...if you’re renting the farmhouse, what are you doing here?”

“The furnace is broken over there.”

Seemingly mollified, she put another dish in the oven and closed the door. “Oh. So...where’s your husband? You must be married to the guy who came from Nashville, right?”

Lourdes didn’t intend to explain what’d happened to that guy. “No, I’m the only one who came.”

She scowled. “Kyle didn’t tell me he rented to a woman. I wonder why—” Her words fell off the instant recognition dawned. The mention of Nashville had obviously sparked a—albeit delayed—connection.

“Oh, my God! You’re Lourdes Bennett, the country star! I hear your songs all the time where I work. At Sexy Sadie’s.” She added the name as though Lourdes should recognize the place.

“I take it that’s a honky-tonk of some sort?”

“Yes, the only bar in town.”

That explained what she was wearing. With a low-cut top and a short skirt, it was a server’s uniform of the more risqué variety. “You must be on your way there now.”

“I am. And I can’t be late, or I’ll be fired. My manager is such a douche.”

For expecting her to show up on time? Lourdes didn’t bother to comment. “So you don’t have a date with Kyle...”

“No, not tonight,” she said. “I’ve got to work, or...or we’d probably do something.”