One Lucky Cowboy Read Online Free PDF Page A

them."
       Kristy was decked out in skin-tight designer jeans that emphasized her wide hips and thick waist; a halter top made of eyelet lace that let her tanning bed skin show through the little holes right along with a back roll of cellulite begging to be released from a tight bra; high heeled shoes, and lots of chunky gold jewelry. Her dark hair was piled up on top of her hair in a style that was meant to look casual but had at least half a can of hair spray applied to keep every curl in place.
       She'd certainly wasted nothing to look good but any fool could see when she looked at Slade she saw dollar signs. Poor old Slade; bless his heart. If Jane hadn't sworn off all men she might feel sorry for him, even though he had been a pain in the ass the whole previous week.
       Slade kissed her on the cheek. "Come meet my cousin Griffin. You were saying that to be a Luckadeau you have to have blond hair—wait until you see him. He's got black hair with a natural white streak in it. His little girl has been playing with your daughters."
       "Oh, my, I figured that child had something bad wrong with her and her hair grew back all crazy," Kristy whispered.
       "Nope, born that way. Griff inherited it from his mother. His sister is as blonde as the rest of the Luckadeau clan."
       Jane looked out the window. Only two pieces of cake remained. The punch bowl was half full. People were gathered in groups from two to ten and kids ran every which way. It was the very kind of family gathering she'd always imagined she would love and here she was in the midst of it feeling as out of place as a hooker on the front row of a holiness tent revival meeting.
       "So this is how the hired help feels," she mumbled as she made her way into the den and flopped down in a recliner.
       She leaned her head back and shut her eyes. Today she was supposed to be in Cancun on her honeymoon. John had offered her a choice of anywhere in the world she would like to go. Exotic places. Mountain tops. Italy. France. Remote islands. But she'd opted for a suite in a beachside hotel in Cancun. Later they'd vacation and see the world. She had wanted beach, sun, water, wine, and romantic evenings for their two week honeymoon.
       Instead of choosing just the right sundress from her extensive trousseau for dinner, she'd gotten up that morning and had a choice between three pairs of faded jeans. Why couldn't she at least have thought to bring a few decent things when she packed?
       "Because…" she muttered as she finally allowed the memories of that horrible day to flood into her mind.

    *********

    It had been a glorious day at the ranch. The wedding planner was crazy with last-minute details. Her step father, Paul, was very supportive and attentive. John, the tall, dark and very, very handsome groom, was off making millions of dollars and setting everything in order at his business so he could be away for two weeks. There was the bridesmaids' luncheon and then the manicurists arrived to do mani-pedis on everyone. After that, there was the last fitting of the dress, a custom creation she'd had made locally from a picture on a romance book she'd kept stashed in her file cabinet since she was sixteen.
       Then boom, it was time for the rehearsal. The yard had been transformed into something from Brides magazine. Celia walked down the aisle on John's arm and pretended to be the bride. After all, Jane wasn't taking any chances with bad luck. They went through the basic ceremony three times, finishing just in time to pile into the limos to take them to the rehearsal dinner at the conference center in Greenville.
       John's sister, Ramona, was serving as best man and the jokes centered around her not looking anything like John—or a best man. She was a tall redhead with no freckles and a lithe figure that looked wonderful in the shimmery silver silk dress Jane had chosen for her. Jane had asked her to serve as one of the bridesmaids,