Every Yesterday (Boot Creek) (6 page)

“Hello, Derek. How have you been doing? Flynn tells me you are doing very well.” Her eyes twinkled. “You deserve happiness again.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Crane. I’ll have to introduce you to Katy. I’d love for you to meet her.”

“Then we will,” the woman said.

“Rich.” Derek shook the old man’s hand.

“It
is
a small world,” Noah said, reaching across the table to shake Rich’s hand too.

“You know them?” Megan asked.

“He is the sweetest boy.”

Somehow Megan doubted that. And the guy sitting across from her was far from a boy.

Rich Crane bobbed his head. “Nice young man. Johnny-on-the-spot to help us out at the airport. He didn’t have to do that either. Just walked right up and offered. Appreciate that, son.”

“It was my pleasure,” Noah said. “I’m sure you’d have done the same.”

Flynn wrapped her hands around her grandparents. She was inches taller than both of them. “What are the odds y’all would have been on the same plane, much less had a conversation, and then be sleeping under the same roof? It was like fate that we were all supposed to meet.”

Megan tried not to roll her eyes, but she had a terrible poker face. She knew full well what was going through Flynn’s head. First it was Ford. Now Noah. They were going to have to hide Flynn just to protect all the other single men from her relentless flirting. Bless her heart.

Suzy Crane beamed in Noah’s direction, like she might be hoping pretty boy Noah was the right boy for Flynn too. “Flynn told us that you’re the best man in Angie’s wedding.”

“Yes, ma’am. Jackson and I have been friends for years. Since high school days. Angie seems like a sweet girl. I’m honored to be a part of their big day.”

Puh-lease.
Megan wasn’t buying that for a minute. She heard the subtext in his little toast earlier. He wasn’t happy that his friend was getting married. He’d probably be the first one to give him a ride out of town.

“And sweet Megan. How’s your momma doing? Is she here tonight?”

“She’s doing great. You know how she is. Working nonstop. She and her flowers are inseparable. I’m sure if you walk down to the shop she’s there whipping up corsages for the big football game Friday night. She had a ton of orders.”

“Such a sweet woman. You look just like her.”

“Thank you.” When she glanced up Noah was staring at her. She pressed her hands down on the table and smiled, focusing her attention back on the Crane
s.

“Angie tried to get Derek here to be the maid of honor. But he refused.”

Noah almost choked on his beer.

Derek took a sip of his. “My reaction exactly.” They tapped their beer bottles together across the table. “Some things are best left the way they were meant to be. And I personally think Megan makes a much prettier maid of honor than I would have.”

“I’m sure of that,” Noah said, giving her a little nod. Darn if his mouth didn’t look good with the beer dampening his lips. He licked the droplet away.

With that, Megan excused herself from the table. “It was so good to see you,” she said to the Cranes. “I’m sure we’ll get to spend some more time together this week.” She couldn’t get away from that table and Noah’s constant staring quick enough. She put her plate on one of the trays near the kitchen and then headed for the bathroom. She just needed a minute. She wasn’t even sure why she was so bothered by that guy. He hadn’t done or said a thing wrong. Maybe it was the heat in this joint. She’d never been one much for crowds anyway. She ran her hands under some cool water and took a breath. It was the heat, she told herself as she tried to relax, the heat hung mercilessly, there was no way the air-conditioning could keep up with everyone coming in and out of the place.

I’m fine.

I’m overreacting.

Definitely just the heat. And the wine. And the press of all of those people. She felt better already. She checked her makeup and reapplied her lipstick, a soft pink that made her skin look more tan.

Angie was standing outside of the door, probably trying to take a potty break, but no one would give her a moment’s peace.

“Hey,
gal,
” Megan said, giving Angie’s shoulder a casual squeeze. “You doing okay?”

“Great.”

The couple that had been talking to Angie excused themselves and she gave them a wiggly finger wave. “Drink this,” Angie said. “I can’t have another drink. I don’t know how many I’ve even had.”

“Well, it is a party. And you’re the guest of honor.”

“Who’d like to be able to walk out of here at the end of the night.”

Megan snagged the glass of wine from Angie’s hand. “My duty as maid of honor.” She took a generous sip of the cool liquid.

“Thanks so much for that sweet toast earlier. You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know. But it seemed appropriate. And I knew ol’ man Johnson would love the round of applause.”

“Oh, he ate that up. Big ol’ teddy bear. He’ll never admit it, but I could tell.”

“I thought you’d appreciate that.”

“So much. One of my regular customers just walked in. I guess I’d better go say hello.”

Megan raised the glass of wine in a silent toast as Angie hurried off. Most of the people in the room were coupled. She didn’t want a husband, or even a boyfriend, but at times like these, being single in a sea of duos made her feel like the odd man out.

No one would notice if she disappeared for a little while. She slipped out the backdoor and hung close to the building, in the shadows. She could catch some night air and quiet before going back in.

The smell of the burgers on that big cooker reminded her of Daddy grilling when she was a kid. He was a master of the barbecue. It was a nice night, and the crowd of people that had been out here eating earlier had dissipated. Seemed most were enjoying the bar and desserts inside now.

“Hey. Too much going on in there for you?”

She stumbled over her own foot as she noticed Noah. “Hi. No. I was just getting some fresh air. You found my secret hiding spot.”

“Not that good of a secret if the new guy in town can find it.”

“
True.
”

“Don’t let me stop you. There’s plenty of room.”

Walking away would be rude, so she took a seat.

“I like your outfit. That color blue is really pretty on you.”

Charmer.
“Thank you,” she answered politely, not really taking much from the compliment. He probably handed them out like handing out speeding tickets at the Indy 500. Pointless.

“I know what you mean about the fresh air. All that lovey-dovey stuff going on in there can get a little suffocating.” He tugged at his shirt collar.

Okay. She liked him better. A little anyway. “True that.”

“You ever been married?”

“Kind of personal for a first question, don’t you think?”

“You don’t want to answer it?” He folded his arms.

“Nope. You?”

“Nope. Never been married? Or nope, you don’t want to answer, which means you have been . . . probably several times.”

Touché.
“I’ve never been married. A status I rather embrace.” His quick wit tickled her.

“Looking?”

“You asking?” she challenged.

“
Hell
, no,” he said, without even a nanosecond’s hesitation.

“Thank God.”

“I’m not your type?”

He almost sounded disappointed, and she wasn’t quite sure why she found that a bit appealing. “I don’t have a type,” she said. “I like doing what I want, when I want. It works for me.”

“I know what you mean. Me too.” He leaned forward on the concrete table—the striation of his biceps noticeable even under the dim glow from the moon. He tapped her ring finger. “So why the ring?”

He noticed.
She wiggled her fingers. “This? My dad gave it to me when I turned sixteen. It fits on this finger best. And it’s not a bad way to keep guys at arm’s length if they are the type on the prowl for a single gal to turn into their happy homemaking bride.” She caught his gaze. “Or the kind that will be gone the next day anyway.”

He leaned back. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You seem like the latter.”

“Well, I’m definitely not the first one. Not looking for a bride. But I’ll be here through at least next weekend, so I’m not the latter either.” He held her gaze for a long moment. “So . . . the ring. Good idea. And way more subtle than the ‘Stay Ten Feet Back’ sign I usually hang around my neck. Maybe I need one of those.”

She scrunched her nose. “I’m not so sure diamonds and sapphires would be a real good look on you. In fact, might send the wrong message altogether.”

“Don’t think I could carry off the gems, huh? Well, maybe just a band then.” He gave her a wink, and she liked that he thought he could match her wits for wits. But she had her doubts that he could. “You always a smarty-pants?” he asked.

“I may have been accused of that a time or two . . . or twenty before.”

“Cute as you are I guess you can get away with it.”

Was he flirting? Or just a kindred spirit?
“You think I’m cute?”

“I said it, didn’t I?” He turned and watched his friends. Shaking his head. “I used to think I knew these guys as well as I know myself, but things are changing now that Jackson is getting married.”

“Maybe you’re next.”

“No, ma’am.” He took her hand in his and stroked the ring on her finger. “I like the idea of a woman independent enough not to want to be tied down.”

“That sounds like a man who has had his heart broken.”

“Don’t need a broken heart to know you don’t want one. I’m a solitary man. I like it that way.”

Megan wasn’t sure how to respond to his very serious tone. So she kept her mouth shut. Wasn’t so far from her own beliefs anyway, so who was she to judge?

The tension in his jaw eased and a slight smile teased the corners of his mouth. “So, Megan-who-wears-a-ring, I get the feeling you don’t like me so much.”

“I don’t even know you.”

“My point exactly. So, do I remind you of someone? Did I say something wrong?”

His honesty caught her off guard. And the truth was she didn’t even have an answer. Not a good one anyway. “No. I’m not even sure why, but you’re right. My guard went up. I can’t put my finger on it. You gonna tell me what it is I’m feeling?”

“Hell, no. The day I start pretending to know what’s on a woman’s mind, you may as well send me to the crazy house.” He waved a finger back in forth in the direction of her head. “No telling what the heck is going on up in there.”

She laughed. A real hearty laugh that ended in a little snort. “Sorry. I do that sometimes.”

“It’s kind of cute.”

“That’s twice you’ve called me cute. Stop that.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And all that ma’am stuff. What is that all about? We’re the same age.”

“I was brought up by a good old Tennessee gal who believed that ‘yes and no, ma’am,’ was the proper way to show respect, and I guess it just stuck.”

“I was brought up that way too. But I’m not going to call you sir.”

“Fair enough. I’m the best man. You’re the maid of honor.” He looked around at the empty lot around them. “You and I seem to be in the minority—those without dates. Think we could call some kind of truce and pal around this week—no strings, no expectations?”

“You serious?”

“Yeah. I like your sass. I damn sure don’t want to have to dodge that ticking time bomb of a baby maker—”

“Flynn?”

“Oh yeah. That would be the one.”

She couldn’t blame him. Flynn would dog him all week. “Well, we do seem to be on the same page here.”

“Yeah, and it seems the guys I thought were on my team are defecting.”

“You’re going to have to be a better quarterback then.”

“I’ll take that under advisement.” He extended his hand. “My new partner in crime?”

“For the week.” She shook his hand. A nice firm grip.

“Think we should go back in?”

She slumped forward. “In a minute?”

“You twisted my arm.”

“Oh, we are going to get along fine,” she said.

“Jackson said you make candles for a living.”

“I do. Aromatherapy candles. All natural. I make them from beeswax that I get from a local beekeeper.”

“So you hand pour them. Like one by one?”

“Just like that.”

“That has to take a long time.”

“I’ve got a pretty good system. I never intended for it to become huge. I’m very happy with the size of the business.”

“How do you come up with the smells?”

“
Aromas.
Smell is what you do to test a carton of milk when the date has passed.”

“Yeah, that’s not good.”

“Never is. Why is it we always want other people to smell stinky stuff? I think guys started that.”

“We probably did.” He stood up. “Come on. Let’s go back in. I’ll buy you a free drink to seal our deal.”

“Okay.” She followed him back into Blue Skies Café. The crowd had thinned out some. There was even a booth empty toward the front.

He went straight to the bar and got a beer. “You still drinking wine?”

She nodded.

“Wine for the lady.”

“I’ll grab that table,” she said as he waited for the bartender to pour the wine. She slid into the booth. When she looked up, he was walking toward her. She wondered where he’d sit. Next to her or across from her.

Like a proper gentleman he gave her space, sitting across from her in the booth.

He handed her the wineglass, then held his beer in front of her. “To a week of no-bs fun and helping our friends start their new life together on the right foot.”

She tipped her glass toward his bottle. A smile played on her lips, and suddenly he didn’t seem nearly as bad as she’d made him out to be in her mind earlier. He was playful and fun. No problem.

“Jackson drove us around Boot Creek. It’s not a very big town, so I guess it’s safe to say you live nearby.”

“That would be a good bet. Within walking distance.” Great, now he’d think she was inviting him over. Not her intention at all.

“Lived here all of your life?”

“Yep.”

“I grew up in a small town outside of Nashville. I spent most of my youth wishing for a bigger place to live.”