Every Yesterday (Boot Creek) Page 5

Her smile waned a bit. “Right. Y’all have a good day.”

  Jackson honked the horn as he stepped outside.

  “You’re going to wake up the neighborhood,” Noah called out, to which Jackson responded with another blast of the horn.

  Noah climbed into the front seat.

  Jackson tapped the steering wheel. “Up for something fun today?”

  “And that would be?”

  “Fishing. I’ve got the best little honey of a hole over off the creek.”

  “Works for me.” He hadn’t been fishing in years, and that was one thing he’d always enjoyed.

  Jackson pulled out of the driveway and out onto the road. “Angie made us lunch.”

  “Got beer?” Noah asked.

  Jackson turned toward him and stared. “Seriously? Can’t fish without beer. Everyone knows that.”

  “Atta boy. Hope you’re still talking like that in a few months. Or a year,” Noah said.

  “Nothing’s going to change just because I’m getting married,” Jackson said.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Not unless I want it to. Angie’s great. I still can’t believe she agreed to marry me.”

  “Can I get you to repeat that so I can record it?” Noah thrust his phone at him. “I’m going to need proof.”

  “You gonna die on that bachelor sword? None of us is getting any younger.” Jackson leveled a gaze at Noah.

  “What? Something wrong with that? You don’t see Ford running down the aisle either.”

  “Well, that’s because he lives in freaking Alaska! I have a feeling there’s not much up there to choose from. So that might not be entirely by choice.”

  Jackson gunned the accelerator of his truck. “For the record, my commitment-phobic friend, a guy doesn’t need an assortment. Just one right one.”

  “She play that on a recorder under your pillow?” Because the problem with the assortment analogy was that, in his experience, nuts had always been hiding under creamy, sweet caramel. And those weren’t always easy to avoid until it was too late. No, he’d just stick to the friend zone.

  “Funny.” Jackson managed a choked laugh.

  “Speaking of types. Ford might like Flynn. She seems like his kind of girl—blonde and leggy. If he’s ready to settle down, that girl is too. She’s got that vibe going as loud as a tuba in a marching band.”

  Jackson grinned. “Why do you think I have him escorting her down the aisle?”

  “And you found yours in Boot Creek. Hook Ford up with Flynn and you’ll have another buddy to hang around with. Guess there’s worse places to live.”

  “Sure is, but Angie’s the perfect partner for me no matter where I live.”

  “You think she’d ever leave this little town? I always thought you’d end up back in Tennessee.”

  Jackson paused. “Well, I didn’t really ask, but I’m sure she would. She loves me. We’re a good team. We’d figure it out together.”

  “Famous last words,” Noah muttered, but he was glad Jackson hadn’t heard him over the loud roar of the tires on his truck. Because it even sounded snarky in his own head.

  About thirty minutes later, Jackson turned onto a gravel road and, after kicking up dust for about a mile, they finally pulled up in front of a small boat ramp and dock that had three small boats tied up along it.

  “One of these boats yours?”

  “Yep,” Jackson said.

  “Hope it’s not that little metal johnboat. I’m not up for bailing water,” Noah teased.

  Jackson hopped out of the truck and grabbed a bait bucket and tackle box from the back of the truck.

  “I’ve got the cooler,” Noah said.

  Jackson led the way. The dock looked a lot ricketier as they got closer to the first boat.

  Noah pressed his lips together as Jackson stepped into the little, seen-better-days aluminum johnboat.

  Noah wondered if the boat would even hold the weight of the cooler and the two of them. He’d never been one to really like the water.

  Jackson got up and stepped back on the dock. “I’m joking. Come on.”

  “Good. I swear I was getting a little seasick just then,” Noah said, following Jackson toward the blue sparkly boat at the end of the dock. “This is way more like it. Nice paint.”

  “Thanks.” Jackson opened the live well and then put the cooler between the two back seats. He took out a plastic container from the top of it and put it in a separate storage hopper on the back of the boat. “This is our lunch. Angie is the best cook I’ve ever met. Girl can cook anything. She made all of my favorites for us. Fried chicken that’ll smack your lips for you, and her famous fried mac-n-cheese bites. Let me just remind you. She’s mine.”

  “You won’t see me fighting for her, even if she’s the next Paula Deen.” Noah pulled one of the fishing poles out and started fixing the line. “Been a while since I’ve done this.”

  Jackson grabbed one of the others. “Thought as busy as you are, this would be a good thing to do.”

  “We eating what we catch or releasing?” Noah asked as he twisted a knot on the tackle.

  “We’ve got the barbecue tonight, but we can filet them and fry them up tomorrow night.”

  “Works for me.” Noah pulled the tackle box closer with his foot, and popped open the top. He pulled out a knife and some weights. “Any wagers on biggest fish?”

  Jackson snickered. “Some things never change.”

  “By that I guess you mean that I always win.” Noah grinned.

  “That remains to be seen, but you have always wanted to bet on everything.”

  Noah slapped Jackson on the back. “All in fun, my man. No money, whoever catches the biggest fish doesn’t have to do any of the filleting.”

  “I’m in. Don’t be whining that I’ve got an advantage because it’s my boat. Fair’s fair.”

  “You’re on.”

  Jackson fired up the boat and sped through the murky water of the wide creek. Looked more like a river to Noah, but he didn’t know much about boats or water so he kept his mouth shut. Only reason he ever went fishing at all back in Tennessee was because it was a great way to sleep off a hangover.

  “We have to dress up for this thing tonight?” Noah asked. Leave it to women to plan a party—they always go all crazy on the unnecessary details. Just give him a cold beer and some good conversation and he’d call it a success.

  Jackson slowed the boat to a stop near the shore where a fallen tree laid sprawled half in the water. “Nope. It’s casual. Should be a good time.”

  Noah cast his line and dropped his hook right into what looked like a sweet spot near the deep end of the tree.

  Jackson dropped his line on the other side of the tree, and darned if he didn’t get a nibble almost as soon as his bait hit the water. He played the fish for a few seconds, letting out the line and then reeling it in a little at a time until it got tugged beneath the surface. He whipped the line quickly to set the hook and reeled the fish in. “Grab the net, man.”

  Noah moved to the edge of the boat with the net and scooped up the fish.

  “Got the first one,” Jackson beamed.

  Noah shrugged. “The bet’s for the biggest. Not the first.” He recast and tried again.

  After four hours the sun was beginning to get too darn hot, and on full stomachs they’d had just about enough. “You ready to call it a day?” Jackson tugged on the bill of his hat.

  Noah said. “How about we do fifteen more minutes. I’ll give you one last chance to beat me.”

  “I have another spot on the way back. We’ll stop there for fifteen.” Jackson started the engine and puttered down the waterway.

  Even after they’d stopped, and Noah hit a lucky run of four fish in a row, none of them were larger than the largemouth bass Jackson had landed.

  Jackson slowed the motor as they got closer to the dock, and pulled it right up alongside. “Can you grab that line?”

  Noah took the rope that they’d coiled off the front o
f the boat and tossed the top over the pylon. “Got it.” The high-pitched squeal of a wood duck made Noah nearly jump off the boat. “What the—”

  “Ducks.” Jackson laughed. “They nest over there. I think they’re celebrating my victory.”

  Noah stepped off the boat, reaching for the gear as Noah passed it over. “You nervous at all, Jackson?”

  “I’m really not. I know I love her.” He put the fishing rods back down in the center storage unit. “The whole standing up in front of people and saying stuff kind of makes me anxious, but it’s important to her. I know you don’t really get it, Noah, but I swear I hope you find someone like Angie someday. It’s a different kind of happy. I can’t explain it.”

  Noah hated to rain on Jackson’s parade, but that was the last thing he wanted anyone wishing for him.

  “I see your face,” Jackson said. “I’m telling you. For real. Man to man. Friend to friend. I never knew what I was missing.”

  “I’m happy for you. Glad you’re happy, even.”

  “You are not,” Jackson said with a laugh.

  “No. I am. Doesn’t mean I’m joining the ranks of the married. But I’m glad for y’all, even if weddings aren’t my thing.”

  “Well, when you see what we’re riding off in, you might feel differently.”

  Noah raised his hand. “If it’s a horse-drawn carriage, I’m not scooping poop. Just saying that right up front.”

  “No. Angie’s maid of honor, Megan, you’ll meet her tonight, her dad has a pristine show piece of a ride. Well, Megan has it now. Her dad recently passed away, but he’d offered to let us use it for the wedding before he died.”

  Finally. Something Noah was interested in talking about. “Really. What is it?”

  “A 1958 DeSoto Adventurer.”

  Noah spun around. Did he just hear that right? The words played back in his head almost as if he were translating a foreign language. “Did you say a ’58 DeSoto Adventurer? Why the heck didn’t you tell me about this?”

  “I told you we were driving a classic car.”

  “There’s classic and there’s collectible. And didn’t you remember that that was the kind of car my granddad had?”

  “I guess I didn’t realize it was the same car. Just old. That thing is sweet, though. I think it’s got, like, a total of twenty-eight thousand original miles or something crazy like that. Convertible too. Incredible.”

  He was sure a broad dorky-ass grin was spreading across his face. “Incredible is right. More than incredible. I’ve been on the hunt for one of those for the last ten years.” Could this seriously be happening?

  “That DeSoto is a tank of a car. I thought you liked those sporty-looking hot rods. All ZZ Top–ish.” Jackson did the comical hand gesture from the old videos, which had been Noah’s favorite song for the chicks and the cars.

  “That was a ’33 Ford Coupe and I do, but my granddad taught me all about cars with his Adventurer.”

  “Can’t you have any kind of car you want now that you’re in that business?”

  “I wish it was that simple. There were only a few of those Adventurers built in 1958. Even fewer that were convertibles.”

  “So it’s extra special.”

  “Exactly. Limited edition, and the ones you do find have been neglected or ruined by someone trying to turn it into something it was never meant to be.” Excitement built inside of him. It was the chase. Just like with women. The hunt was as much of the satisfaction, and if he’d actually finally stumbled upon the car of his dreams in this little town, Boot Creek may become a special little map dot to him too.

  Chapter Five

  So many cars lined Main Street in front of the Blue Skies Café, it almost felt like Blackberry Festival time. Megan strolled down the walkway, not surprised by the turnout. Angie was well liked by the people who knew her, and her customers loved her too. Angie was one of those people that had no barriers. Even though she’d been through plenty of situations in her life that had given her cause to shut down . . . she’d risen above them all. She was the first one to volunteer or show up to offer a hand when someone needed it. Megan wished she were more like that sometimes. It just wasn’t her way. She was more of a dove, while Angie was like a cockatiel. Social, friendly, and whatever she said sounded like pretty music.

  Even before Megan opened the door to Blue Skies Café, the aroma of good food surrounded her. She walked inside.

  Standing room only.

  When ol’ man Johnson had said he wanted to host a pre-wedding/going-away party for Angie, his number one waitress, Megan had no idea that he’d meant that he was going to invite darn near the whole town. Folks in these parts loved his food, so no one was about to miss this spread. But on top of that, anyone who had ever met Angie loved her. All of her best customers seemed to have turned out.

  Megan spotted Angie leaning against one of the booths. If she didn’t know better, she’d have thought Angie was ready to take the person’s order. But tonight was in honor of the hardworking girl, and ol’ man Johnson had brought in a group of young folks from the 4H to wait the tables.

  The bright green shirts of the 4Hers moved through the crowd like Olympic speed skaters.

  Inching her way through the crowd, Megan finally made it over to Angie. “What a turnout.”

  Angie spun around and hugged Megan. “Is this nuts?”

  “A lot of these people won’t be at the wedding, right?”

  “Exactly. Customers mostly.” Angie’s eyes were misty, her smile genuine. “I mean who wouldn’t show up for free food? But it was really sweet that they’d come. And did you see Johnson put up a tip box for me? He dropped in a one-hundred-dollar bill to get things started. It was so thoughtful. I’m going to miss working here.”

  “No you won’t. You worked your butt off here.”

  Angie looked around. “True, but it’s been a good living. Billy and I’ve done fine with my income from this job, and ol’ man Johnson has been so patient with me through the divorce, the harassment from Rodney, my car problems, and Billy getting sick when he started school. I swear I couldn’t have asked for much more.”

  “Well, you’ve got much more now,” Megan said. “You’ve got a great husband who is going to soak up half that burden from now on. And the job with Derek and Katy at Lonesome Pines is going to be so much better for you. Besides, if Billy gets sick, you can stick him in one of those rooms at the inn, or better yet, work from home.”

  “I can’t believe my life has changed so much in the past year. I never even dreamed my life could be like this.”

  “You know what they say, when you least expect it . . . you’ll find love. And you deserve it.”

  “That sure was the case with Jackson. The only reason I even went out to Criss Cross Farm was to show Katy around that day. Then I saw Jackson.”

  “Someone say my name?” Jackson wrapped his arms around Angie’s waist from behind.

  “That was me. Hey, sweetheart.” She leaned back and turned her face toward him for a kiss. “Love you.”

  “And more,” he said. “I wanted to introduce your girls to my guys.”

  “Great.” Angie tiptoed and waved Flynn and Katy over. “I’m sure they’ve met Flynn already.”

  Megan stepped back as Katy and Flynn gathered. Suddenly it was as if they were being lined up for some kind of hoedown. Swing your partner.

  “We’ll get some time together to talk, but I wanted to get y’all introduced,” Jackson said. “The dark-haired guy with the California suntan is Noah. My best man.”

  “I think we’re going to need name tags,” Katy said with a laugh.

  Megan wondered just how much work Noah did to maintain a tan that dark. Then again, Angie had said Noah was kind of the playboy of the group. He looked the part too. Hotter than hot, with a little salt in his pepper hair and eyes as dark as chocolate ganache. His full lips were shadowed by a day or two’s growth, and although it hadn’t ever been one of her favorite looks, it looked particula
rly good on him. Even a little dark and dangerous in a sexy sort of way.

  His lips parted, as if he knew what she was thinking. A dimple forming at the lower right of his cheek. “I’m Megan,” she said, mostly to save herself from his stare. “Guess I’m your other half. The maid of honor.”

  A faint line appeared between Noah’s brows as he studied her. Other half? “That’s an interesting way to describe it.”

  Jackson tugged the tall guy with the shaggy long brown hair by the arm. “And this one who looks jet-lagged is Ford. All the way from Alaska.”

  Ford smiled and held his beer up. “By way of one long layover in Colorado, but I’m here. I promise to rest up and be proper fun the rest of the week.”

  “I can promise you good rest and hearty Southern breakfasts,” Flynn sidled up to him. “I’m Flynn. You and I haven’t met yet, but I own the inn where y’all are staying.”

  Ford’s face lit. “Oh you had me wondering for a minute there how I was getting so lucky. Nice to meet you, Flynn. And thank you. I’m about thirteen hours past needing rest at this point.”

  “You just let me know if you want to get on out of here early. I can give you a lift,” Flynn flashed him a sweet smile.

  Megan turned her back to Flynn and Ford. “Am I the only one feeling that vibe all the way over here?” she mouthed the words.

  Katy pressed her lips together and shook her head.

  Angie broke the buzz that was pulsing between Ford and Flynn. “And Katy here was the magic that put me in the path of Jackson to begin with. She’s the newest of us to Boot Creek, but she’s one of the gang already. Her better half is the one walking me down the aisle and giving me away—Derek.”

  Megan caught the hiccup in Angie’s voice. If it were Megan getting married and Dad had missed it, she’d have felt the same way. Angie’s dad had died when she was just a little girl.

  Jackson clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “Great. Now everyone knows someone. Have fun tonight. I have a feeling this week is going to fly by.”

  Megan watched Flynn cast her best flirting in Ford’s direction again. Did that Alaskan know what he was in for? If nothing else, there’d probably be some hot and heavy fun between the two. Then Flynn would be in love and Megan, Katy, and Angie would be consoling her for two weeks after Ford fled back to Fairbanks, or wherever the heck he lived in Alaska. It would take that long for Flynn to finally admit to herself that she didn’t even know the guy, much less love him. And that he really wasn’t so perfect after all.