Chute Yeah (The Valentine Boys 3)

I shot Candy a warm look.

“What kind of stipulation is that?” I asked curiously.

He shot Candy an apologetic look.

“Originally there was a clause in there that you couldn’t be intimately attached, either,” Bryce said. “But I made them take that out when I heard that you were with her. This morning before we came, actually.”

I raised a brow at him.

“What does that matter?” I pushed.

“A big selling point,” Dean pushed into the conversation, “is that you’re a bachelor. The ladies love you. You being single gives them false hope that one day you’ll be there to make their dreams come true.”

“But that would never happen,” I interjected.

“No,” Bryce agreed. “But that’s also why that’s a clause that’s in ours, too. You being single—or at least not married—makes you a thousand times more appealing in the eyes of single women. And, sadly, there aren’t enough women interested in the sport or bull riding. That’s our target audience.”

“Y’all sell dip and chaps,” Candy said, sounding disgusted. “Women won’t buy either of those.”

“No,” Bryce agreed. “But studies have shown that women will for their men. Men are going to buy what they’re going to buy. No amount of advertising on our part will change that. But women, on the other hand, are very visual creatures. They see a bachelor like Banks in a pair of our chaps, using Dean’s chewing tobacco, and you can bet your ass that they’re going to buy it for that alone.”

Candy frowned.

“What did you buy today while you were window shopping?” Bryce asked. “Y’all were talking about it when you walked in.”

I grinned at Candy, who flushed.

“I bought a pair of boots,” she answered.

“How did you see the boots?” he pushed.

Candy sighed. “A model was wearing them on a rodeo flyer that was hanging by the concession stand.”

Bryce grinned.

“Exactly,” Dean said. “So, let’s just say, if Banks remains ‘less tied down,’ or at least appears that way, then that works better for us. We’re not saying that you can’t date. We’re not saying that you can’t be serious…we’re just asking that you wait until our contract expires in a year to get married.”

Candy sighed.

“Our wedding isn’t planned until next Christmas anyway,” she joked. “So, I guess that your clause is a moot point.”

I gripped her thigh underneath the table, causing her to squirm.

She tossed a look at me over her shoulder and grinned.

“You’re not wearing a ring,” Dean said. “Good.”

Candy rolled her eyes.

“Is your name really Candy Ray Sunshine?” Dean asked.

Candy tilted her head slightly and said, “Yeah. Why?”

Dean shrugged. “It just sounds like a…”

“If you say stripper name, I’m going to come over this table and punch you in the throat with my new boot heels,” Candy threatened.

Bryce coughed.

I outright laughed.

Dean grinned.

“I was going to say it sounds like you’re the product of a flower child like me,” he said. “My name is Dean Sunray.”

That was news to me.

The prim and proper Dean didn’t look like he’d have a middle name of ‘Sunray.’

“Yeah,” Candy sighed. “They were definitely high on the good stuff when I was born. I’m not sure what they were thinking, and I’m not sure why I was cursed with my name, but I totally work it now. Even though it’ll be easy as hell to change it at this point.”

“Well, you’re about to be a Valentine. Candy Valentine,” Dean said. “What does that say about you?”

Candy turned to face me. “Our wedding is off,” she teased. “I didn’t think my name could get worse, but it definitely could.”

I pulled her into my chest and dropped a kiss onto her head.

She was stiff at first but turned pliable and sweet in my arms when she realized I wasn’t going to let her go.

“Well,” I said as I made eye contact with the both of them. “I guess if that’s the worst clause you got…”

“I want to read over the contracts,” Candy interjected. “We’ll get back to you Monday morning once the rodeo’s over and I’ve had time to work through them.”

“Fair enough.” Both men stood and offered their hands to the both of us.

After they left, I still didn’t let Candy go.

“What would we name our children?” I mused. “Something so awful that they’re even worse than ours.”

“Your name isn’t bad,” she said. “My name on the other hand?”

“Come on,” I nudged her. “Play along.”

I could practically see the eye roll through her skull.

“I guess you could go with ‘Happy,’” she said. “That. Or Heart.”

“Flower Valentine,” I teased. “To go with your father’s weird motif.”

She snickered.

“I can’t believe they ever thought that my name would be okay.” She shook her head. “Do you know how much shit I got in high school for it?”

I signaled the waitress to come over with a flick of my chin.

“I got shit, too,” I said. “Do you know what it was like playing football against other teams? To have a Valentine on your team automatically makes you gay in the eyes of every middle schooler.”