Grit and Grace (Sagebrush Cowboys #7)

Chapter 1

Xavier

“Lucas Greene, you fucking slut, how are you?!” I said as I answered my phone. “You better have a damn good excuse for not calling me more often.”

“Sorry, Xavier,” Lucas sighed, but I could hear the smile in his voice. “Also, look who’s talking? As I recall, I’m not the person who spent an hour with two strangers in the nightclub bathroom on New Year’s Eve.”

“That was like three years ago,” I scoffed. “Besides, I told you. We were just kissing.”

“With your cocks?”

“I’m a thorough kisser.”

Lucas burst out laughing on the other end of the line, and I couldn’t help laughing right along.

This was why we were still friends, even after nearly two years of being apart.

When Lucas moved to Texas, I was devastated.

Things had never been the same without him.

But monthly calls and almost daily texts had kept us close.

It wasn’t the same, but I loved having him in my life too much to give it up.

“So,” I said at last. “You getting tired of reliving the Dust Bowl down there or what? When are you coming to visit?”

“Actually, there’s no dust,” Lucas replied. “A few tumbleweeds now and then, but it’s all grass and mesquite trees here.”

“You still love it there, then?”

“Yep,” he beamed. “Besides, I’ve got this cowboy here that needs looking after.”

“How’s Beau doing?” I’d never met the man, but from what Lucas told me, I was envisioning someone who was a healthy mix of Burt Reynolds and Walker Texas Ranger. “The ranch holding up?”

“The ranch is doing great! We just finished building another suite of cabins for the guests and putting in a pool this coming summer.” I could hear the excitement in his voice. This ranch adventure wasn’t just his business, it had become his passion. “And Beau is fine. He proposed to me, actually.”

My jaw nearly hit the floor. “He what?!”

“I know!” Lucas laughed. “Can you believe it? We’re getting married, Xavier.”

I squealed so loud that the woman walking past my apartment building actually jumped and shot me a dirty look through the window. I didn’t care. My best friend was getting married!

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” I chanted, pacing across my living room. “Tell me everything. How did he do it? Was it romantic? Did he get down on one knee in the middle of a field with horses watching or something equally Texas and ridiculous?”

“Actually, it was on our trip to Lake Michigan over the summer,” Lucas said, his voice going soft in that way it did when he talked about Beau.

“We didn’t announce it to anyone until today, but it was really sweet.

We hiked up the dunes, went down to the beach, fucked in the sand, and then he proposed to me.

He said he’d been carrying around the ring for weeks, just looking for the right moment. ”

My heart squeezed in my chest. I hated how sweet and hot that was at the same time. “That’s disgustingly adorable and I’m jealous and I love you both.”

“Thanks,” Lucas chuckled. “So, here’s the thing. I’m calling because I have a favor to ask.”

“Anything,” I said immediately.

“Would you plan our wedding?”

I froze mid-step. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious. You’re the best wedding planner I know, Xavier. And you’re my best friend. I can’t think of anyone else I’d want to do this.”

My mind was already racing with possibilities—color schemes, floral arrangements, venue options. This was what I lived for. “Of course I will! When were you thinking?”

“Late spring if you have an opening? And, uh...” Lucas paused. “It would be here. In Sagebrush.”

The fantasy of tulle and champagne toasts screeched to a halt. “In Texas?”

“Yeah, on the ranch actually.”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Texas. Rural, middle-of-nowhere Texas. No decent coffee shops, no nightlife, probably no cell service, and definitely not hot boys to go home with. Just cows and grass and that godforsaken heat.

But this was Lucas. My Lucas.

“I’ll do it,” I heard myself say. “I’ll make sure I have an opening.”

“Oh, thank God,” Lucas breathed out, relief flooding his voice. “I know you’re busy and it’s a lot to ask, Xavier. I really do. But it would mean the world to both of us.”

“How long would I need to be there?” I asked, already dreading the answer.

“Well... ideally, you’d come down a few weeks before to finalize everything on site. Maybe stay at the ranch? We have plenty of room now with the new cabins.”

A few weeks. In Texas. On a ranch.

I walked to the kitchen as Lucas spoke, grabbing a bottle from the fridge. Then I poured myself a glass of wine—a very full glass—and collapsed onto my velvet sofa. “Okay. Okay, I can do this. Send me dates and I’ll clear my schedule.”

“You’re the best, X. Seriously.”

“I know I am,” I said, taking a long sip. “Now tell me—do you at least have a vision? Colors? Themes? Please tell me you have something to work with.”

Lucas laughed. “I was thinking rustic elegance? Like, embrace the ranch setting but make it sophisticated. Beau wants it outdoors if possible.”

“Of course he does,” I muttered, but I was already sketching ideas in my head. String lights, maybe draped fabric to soften the barn aesthetic, wildflowers mixed with something more refined like roses or peonies. “I can work with that. What about the guest list?”

“Around a hundred and fifty people. Mix of family and friends, mostly from around here but some flying in from the city.”

I grabbed my laptop and started a new file. This was happening. I was planning my best friend’s wedding in the middle of nowhere. “Alright, cowboy. Let’s make this the wedding of the century, even if it is in a pasture.”

“It’s not a pasture,” Lucas protested, though he was still laughing. “We have a gorgeous clearing near the creek with cottonwood trees. It’s actually really beautiful.”

“Uh-huh. I’m sure the cows think so too.”

“Xavier.”

“Lucas.” I sighed and set down my wine glass. “I’m kidding. Mostly. I promise I’ll make it amazing. When do you want me to come down for the initial site visit?”

“How’s November looking for you?”

I pulled up my calendar, scrolling through the entries with a growing sense of doom.

November was only a few weeks away. “I’ve got the Rothstein wedding on the tenth, and then the venue walk-through for the Chen-Martinez ceremony on the seventeenth.

I could probably swing the first week of December?

It’ll have to be a quick trip though. I’ve got three weddings in December. ”

“Perfect! We’ll make sure there’s a cabin open for you. Though I wish you could stay longer…”

“I’ll be there plenty long enough in the spring,” I nodded, already dreading country life. “Is there at least a Starbucks in town or something?”

“There’s a coffee shop,” Lucas said carefully. “It’s... also a diner.”

“Oh god, it’s one of those places that only serves drip coffee and calls espresso ‘fancy,’ isn’t it?”

“They have a cappuccino machine!”

“From what decade?” I groaned, draining the rest of my wine. “Never mind, don’t answer that. I’ll bring my own beans. Do you at least have a decent kitchen I can use?”

“The ranch house has a full kitchen, yeah. And the cabins all have kitchenettes with coffee makers.”

“Coffee makers,” I repeated flatly. “Lucas, I have a La Marzocco Linea Mini. I’m not brewing my morning salvation in a Mr. Coffee.”

He was laughing again, that warm sound that made me miss him even more. “I forgot how high-maintenance you are.”

“I prefer ‘discerning,’” I corrected, already making a mental list of what I’d need to pack for my December visit. “So, tell me about the rest of the wedding party. Who’s standing up with you?”

“Well, I was hoping you’d be my best man, actually.”

I felt my throat tighten unexpectedly. “Really?”

“Of course, really. Who else would it be?”

“I don’t know, I just thought... maybe someone Logan? Or someone local? Someone who’s been there with you through all of this?”

“Xavier, you’ve been there with me through everything that matters. The fact that you’re in New York doesn’t change that. So, what do you say?”

I blinked rapidly, refusing to let myself get emotional over this. “Obviously yes, you idiot. I’d be honored.”

“Good. Because Beau’s already planning to ask Dolly to be his best man… lady… thing, and I need you there to balance out all the country energy.”

“They’re called ‘Best Woman’. And Dolly?” I asked, giggling. “Is she like… a cow whisperer or something?”

“Xavier.”

“What? I’m just asking for... research purposes. You know, to better understand the dynamic for wedding planning.”

“Uh-huh. Well, Dolly is the owner of the diner. She actually serves Beau’s award-winning barbecue, and we provide her with beef. But I don’t think she sees the cows while they’re alive…”

“The beef whisperer,” I chuckled. “Got it.”

“She’s great, you’ll love her,” Lucas said.

I made a note in my file. If this Dolly woman was going to be in the wedding party, I’d need to coordinate with her on dress fittings and colors.

God, I hoped she wasn’t one of those women who insisted on wearing what she wanted regardless of the aesthetic.

I’d dealt with enough bridezillas’ mothers to last a lifetime, and I didn’t need a best woman with strong opinions about gingham.

“Alright, so you, me, and Dolly. Anyone else?”

“There’s going to be a few other people helping out. Logan’s going to be one of the groomsmen, obviously. And there’s a handful of friends and family that want to be involved on Beau’s side.”

“Sounds like quite the crew,” I said, settling deeper into my couch. “What about vendors? Please tell me there’s at least one decent caterer in the area.”

“Well, we were thinking Dolly could do the catering, actually. Her restaurant does events.”

I paused, my wine glass halfway to my lips. “Lucas. Honey. I love you. But a diner is not wedding catering.”

“You haven’t tried her food yet,” he said defensively. “Seriously, Xavier, it’s incredible. And it would mean a lot to us to keep things local.”

Local. Of course. Because why would we hire someone from Austin or Dallas when we could have Dolly the beef whisperer serving brisket at a black-tie event? I pinched the bridge of my nose and reminded myself that this was Lucas’s wedding, not mine.

“Okay,” I said slowly. “I’ll need to do a tasting when I come down. And we’ll need to talk about presentation, plating, service staff—”

“Already on it. Dolly’s done weddings before.”

“How many?”

“At least... three?”

“Three.” I took another sip of wine. “Lucas, I’ve done three hundred weddings. Three hundred and forty-seven, to be exact.”

“Which is why I need you there to make sure everything’s perfect,” he said smoothly. “You can work with Dolly, make sure it meets your standards.”

Our standards, I wanted to correct, but I bit my tongue. This was going to be an adventure, that was for sure. “Fine. But if the food isn’t up to par, we’re bringing someone else in.”

“Deal. Thank you, X. Really. This means everything to me.”

His sincerity made my chest ache. “I know. And I’m going to make sure it’s perfect, I promise. Even if I have to drag civilization to Texas one sequin at a time.”

Lucas laughed again, and we spent the next hour going over more details—guest accommodations, timeline, a budget that made me wince, but I’d work with it, and his vision for the ceremony itself. By the time we hung up, I had pages of notes, and my wine bottle was empty.

I stared at my laptop screen, at the new file labeled “Greene-Turner Wedding,” and felt a mix of excitement and dread settle in my stomach.

Planning a wedding in rural Texas was going to be challenging, sure.

But I’d pulled off celebrity weddings, last-minute venue changes, and once even coordinated a ceremony during a nor’easter.

I could handle some cowboys and tumbleweeds.

At least, that’s what I told myself as I poured another glass of wine.

What the hell had I gotten myself into?