SAY IT AGAIN TO MY FACE, BITCH
PAIGE
We walked into Taylor’s house and I halted in my tracks as I took in the scene in front of me.
Pink and silver balloons filled every archway of the house.
There were disco balls and mini cowgirl hats on every surface and the kitchen island was covered in pink confetti next to bottles of champagne and pink wine.
It looked like a bachelorette Pinterest board had thrown up all over the floor.
“Surprise!” Taylor said as she ran up to me with a champagne glass.
“Oh my god! This is amazing!” I said as she tackled me in a hug.
“Glad you like it because I’m about to break out in hives,” Micah said as she poured more drinks in the kitchen.
Micah had definitely never been around this much pink at once. We burst into laughter as we stepped farther into the room. I slid onto a barstool as Lottie wrapped her arms around my shoulders from behind.
“Do you love it?” she asked, squeezing me harder.
“Of course I love it, but you guys didn’t have to do anything.”
Taylor waved a dismissive hand at me. “Oh, shut it. Yes, we did. We love you and want to celebrate.”
I took a long sip of my champagne to keep myself from spilling the truth—or worse, crying.
I didn’t deserve the love I received from these girls.
They deserved to know the truth. They deserved to know that Cash and I were going to get divorced by the end of the summer and all of this beautiful effort was all a waste.
I was nervous it wouldn’t feel like this when I was actually getting married to a man who wanted to marry me back.
I opened my mouth to object, but was quickly cut off by Micah.
“This is only phase one,” she said with a smile.
I perked up, more than a little curious. “What’s phase two?”
“Finish your drink and follow me upstairs,” she said over her shoulder.
I downed the rest of my glass in two mouthfuls and reveled in the feeling of the bubbles running down my throat. I hopped off the stool and skipped after her. She opened the door to Taylor’s room and turned to me.
“Phase two, Little P, is a good old-fashioned fashion show. Whatever outfits we end up in, we get to wear to the bar.”
Taylor’s room was filled with three clothing racks stacked with outfits of various shades of pink, white, and silver. There was glitter and satin in every corner of the room. Her bathroom counter was completely covered with makeup, and hair-styling tools sat plugged in ready to transform us.
“This is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” I said, jumping on my toes like the giddy girl I was.
Taylor and Lottie came bouncing in with drinks in hand as Micah queued up a playlist of early 2000s hits.
For the next hour, we browsed the racks for outfits, did each other’s hair and makeup, and sang at the top of our lungs as we drank. I felt like I was in high school again, sleeping over at Taylor’s house and gossiping about boys.
We gushed about Cash as I told them about the time he drove to my dorm to profess his love to me in secret. We swooned over Lottie and Owen’s adventures in LA, and Taylor was glowing as she talked about her boyfriend Johnny back in Seattle.
Every time Taylor talked about him, you’d think the man cured world hunger, but we’d only met him a handful of times since he rarely came to Ashton Creek with her.
A few years ago we took a girls’ trip to Seattle to visit, but Johnny had been so consumed by his phone that he barely said ten words the entire weekend.
Taylor deserved to be happy, and she claimed Johnny supported her so we all kept our mouths closed about it.
I couldn’t shake the feeling that something about him didn’t sit right.
They met their freshman year at the University of Washington.
He lived on the same dorm floor as her and Micah, and they’d been together ever since.
Taylor insisted they were going to get married and have a large family, but it had been almost ten years and she still didn’t have a ring.
I wondered if he was hesitant because she ultimately wanted to buy land in Ashton Creek.
He made it clear his work would keep him in the city.
Regardless, it was her life and she wanted to stay with him, so who were we to object?
The entire time we talked about our men, Micah stayed notably quiet.
Every time I glanced over at her, I could see a sadness in her eyes I couldn’t quite identify.
She’d been with her boyfriend Shane for four years.
When we met him, he was charming—and hot as fuck in that tattooed military kind of way—but Micah acted more reserved around him.
As if she was afraid to be too bold and confident in his presence.
Lottie never mentioned it to me, so I wasn’t sure she’d noticed, but it was like Micah acted one way in Ashton Creek, and completely differently at home.
He was also mildly terrifying. The man’s thighs looked like they could crush a watermelon with minimal effort. He never did anything to make us uncomfortable, but there was an unexplainable feeling in my gut that made me not trust him.
I reached over to touch Micah’s hand as Lottie and Taylor swooned around blush and glitter in the bathroom. Micah jolted a little at my touch but her face quickly morphed into a warm smile.
She was always like that.
Always a little on edge when eyes weren’t on her.
Micah curled my hair and Taylor did my makeup as I sat in a velvet office chair in the middle of Taylor’s en suite bathroom. I felt like a disco cowgirl princess as they pampered me.
“Take a look, babe,” Micah said, pointing at the mirror.
I stared at myself in the full-length mirror that I’d stood in front of hundreds of times, and did a little twirl—I looked good.
I settled on a white fringe miniskirt paired with a silver tank and bedazzled knee-high cowgirl boots. The girls gave me a sash that said “Pip’s Last Rodeo” and a beautiful white flat brim hat with a queen playing card sewn into the ribbon and the initials PL branded next to it in the felt.
Paige Leonard.
I hadn’t let the thought enter my mind until now, and damn, if I didn’t love the way that sounded. Cash and I were legally married but I never once considered that I could change my name. It wasn’t a conversation we had because this was all for show.
It was too much paperwork to change it back once the divorce was final.
“Okay, one more surprise,” Lottie said, holding something behind her back. She lifted her arms and held out a cropped white jean jacket with fringe along the arm seams. On the back it said Leonard, embroidered in silver thread.
“Oh my god,” I gushed as I took the jacket in my hands. “Guys, this is way too much.” I felt the traitorous tears building behind my eyes.
“No, this”—Micah gestured to her pink tight mini dress—“is too much. That is just enough.”
I pulled them all into a group hug and squeezed as tight as I could.
“I love you guys so much,” I said, willing myself not to cry.
“We love you more,” Lottie said with a sniff.
“Nope.” Taylor breathed deeply. “No tears.”
“You’re all killing me. Let’s go get drunk and dance our asses off.” Micah laughed as he took my hand and dragged me down the stairs.
We sauntered into the Iron Saddle Saloon and cheered as we made our way to a table near the dance floor that was marked as Reserved.
I burst into laughter because this was not the type of establishment that reserved tables, but I was positive Lottie or Taylor charmed their way into convincing the bartender to mark the table with the little plastic sign.
A country band was playing on the small stage in the corner as Lottie grabbed my hand and dragged me onto the dance floor. We twirled and sang along with the band until Micah showed up next to us with tequila shots.
“Drink up!” she shouted as we grabbed the small glasses off her tray.
We threw them back and raised our arms in the air with a shout.
We were a complete country bachelorette cliché, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Lottie and Owen did the whole Vegas thing, but that would never be something I’d want.
This—a small night surrounded by my best friends—was all I’d ever dreamed of.
The pattern of shots and dancing continued until my feet were burning and I had to sit down. I plopped next to Lottie at our table and swung an arm around her shoulders.
“I’m so happy you love me again,” I said, swaying a little in my seat.
“I always loved you, babe.” She laughed and poked at my cheek.
“This was the bestest surprise ever.” I giggled. “And I only partially mean the bachelorette party. The best surprise of the night is seeing Micah dressed like that.” I pointed to where Micah stood at the bar as a cackle rose from my chest.
Micah Shaw was gorgeous with ebony black hair and high cheekbones.
Everything about her—from her nose piercings to her arm sleeve tattoos—screamed don’t fuck with me.
What I was not prepared to see was my dark queen of a best friend dolled up in all pink with a bouncy, curly ponytail and pink glossy lipstick.
She looked both friendlier and more intimidating than normal. It was like a superpower.
“I’ve taken so many photos of her tonight. She’s going to hate it,” Taylor said from across the table.
I glanced back over at Micah and saw her face drop as a guy approached her. Micah could hold her own and was in a long-term relationship, but I still felt like I should step in to help her—or maybe stop her from breaking the poor guy’s nose. I rose from my seat and slowly moved to the bar.
“Everything okay over here?” I asked as I approached my friend.
“Yeah, I was just telling Kyle here that if he tries to touch me he’ll lose a few fingers.” Micah smiled sweetly. Her tone was dripping in venom in the type of way a poisonous plant would draw you in with their beauty before they killed you.
I winced. “I’d believe her, dude, her boyfriend is special forces and he’s taught her a thing or two.”
The guy’s eyes went wide as he started backing away.
“Yeah, I’m very good with a knife. You don’t need your balls to live, right?” Micah flipped her hair over her shoulder and winked at him.
He shuffled away like he was on fire. She turned back to me and nudged my shoulder.
“Thanks, babe.”
“Anytime.” I giggled.
Micah leaned over the bar and ordered another round before we made our way back over to the table.
We placed our drinks down when a group of girls on the dance floor caught my attention.
They were all staring at me and whispering to each other.
By the third time they pointed, I let the irritation take over.
I casually shifted to face them and placed my hands on my hips.
“Do you have a problem?” I shouted at them.
“Nope,” one of the girls said with confidence, as the others continued murmuring.
I rolled my eyes and tried to ignore them.
“We just were curious…” I heard behind my back. “How does it feel pinning down the slut of the town?”
“Now that you’re married, does that mean we don’t get to play with him anymore?”
I took a deep breath—I refused to let these petty girls bully me into a response.
One of the girls burst into laughter. “I can’t believe she is the one Cash finally broke his no-relationship rule for. He’ll be done with her soon enough.”
“Honestly, we dodged a bullet. He’s a loser with no real future anyway. He deserved what his parents did to him.”
That was the last straw. I whirled around and marched up to the dumb bitch who kept running her mouth. I slapped the drink right out of her hand, letting it splash on her face before the glass shattered on the floor.
“Say it again to my face, bitch,” I spat.
“How fucking dare you!” she shouted as she looked down at her stained top.
“How dare you!” I shouted back. “That’s my fucking husband you’re talking about. You want to insult me? Whatever. But you will not let his name escape your lips again.”
“What are you going to do about it?” She shoved my shoulder.
“Bitch—” I lunged forward just as a strong, familiar, arm wrapped around my waist.
“Let her go, Pip,” Cash whispered into my ear.
Goose bumps erupted down my neck at the sound of his voice.
“No,” I snapped, lunging for her again.
Cash’s deep laugh filled my ears as he bent down and hoisted me over his shoulder. I let out a shriek as he walked me past the bar and through the doors to the gravel parking lot.
“Put me down!” I shouted, pounding on his back.
“Not until you take a deep breath,” he said, landing a slap to my ass.
I raised my hands in the air and stopped screaming.
“I’m calm, okay?”
Cash stopped in front of Walker’s truck and placed me so I was sitting on the open tailgate.
When I looked up at him, I expected to see disappointment or anger at my outburst, but he looked back at me with nothing but desire.
Cash stepped between my legs and cupped my jaw, forcing me to look up at him.
He looked edible tonight. Usually I died for the man in a cowboy hat, but tonight he was wearing a backward baseball, and I loved it.
Between the hat, the rough scruff on his jaw, and the white shirt that was too tight on his arms, I was swooning.
“Are you mad at me?” I asked, trying to back away from his grip as he tightened it around the back of my neck.
“Mad?” Cash laughed. “Baby, that was the single hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life.”