It Was Always You

by Johnston, Andrea

  “Sounds good.”

  I grab the keys to the SUV from where they hang on the wall and as I tap the fob, my phone vibrates from my back pocket. Pulling it out, I let out a long breath when I see an email notification.

  Re: Kind of?

  From: LightningBugCatcher

  To: DC1331

  D,

  First, I am so sorry it took me so long to get back to you. Did I tell you I had to go out of town? It was last minute and I was scrambling. I’m only just getting myself organized.

  Anyway YES this is weird. But it would be more weird—weirder? I don’t really know. It would be more if it wasn’t weird. Does that make sense? Do you think I’m weird now? How many times can I use the word ‘weird’ before it’s . . . weird.

  Before you ask, yes, I’ve had a lot of caffeine today. Sorry.

  I can’t imagine how much tension you were holding. Getting into a familiar place probably gave your body permission to be tired. You should sleep as much as you need. Work is never a bad thing, so yay for that!

  I hear ya on small towns. It’s like stepping into a time warp sometimes.

  I owe you answers. First, why wouldn’t Thor be on the island? That seems ridiculous to me. But, I guess if he’s not there and I’m saving only one Avenger it would be Captain America. Gotta save the Chris’s when you can!

  My email address? Don’t tell me you’ve never been lightning bug hunting! What kind of small-town kid are you? Oh and you’ll make a good date for a potential non-meat-eating lady.

  My question for you: This is very important. Favorite Romantic Comedy? (Note: This may be a friendship deal breaker)

  Talk soon!

  Xo

  Ally

  I don’t even bother trying to stifle the laugh I release at her rambling e-mail. I think in my response I’ll not so subtly suggest decaf. Not wanting to seem like I’ve been stalking my message for her response, I slip the phone back in my pocket and get back to work. Besides, I need to hit the internet to choose the perfect movie. Why couldn’t she ask me about my favorite horror movie? That I could answer without hesitation. Chick flick? Not my strong suit.

  Chapter 10

  Ally

  If I’m ever lost, I have no doubt my granny will know how to find me. Or if I need to bury a body, she’s the first person I’m calling. Between her and Didi, I’m sure to get away with any crime, including murder. My best friend is quick on her feet and can flirt her way out of a paper bag so I’m confident in her ability to sweet talk our way out of anything. Granny has spent the days since she was released from the hospital binging every crime show on television. I’m not talking my preferred true crime documentaries or docuseries. Nope, she’s dropped right off the cliff to season after season of all the CSIs and NCISs. Oh and don’t forget SVU. If the show involves a crime and has initials in its title, she’s all over it.

  Of course, I’d never actually kill anyone. I mean, I’ll bait a hook even though I do it with one eye closed. When Andy moved away and I had to start baiting my own hooks, I almost gave up fishing all together. It’s been years since I’ve dropped a pole in the water, and now that I’m home, I’m itching to do it.

  Didi would die if she knew about my afternoon plans of getting the car its scheduled maintenance and then settling in for a few hours of peace and quiet. A pedicure and happy hour would be much more up her alley than trekking down to the creek and reading a book while my pole sits in the water. I doubt I’ll catch anything, but just the idea of sitting among nature and not having a cell phone or computer in my lap sounds heavenly. I’m not even taking my e-reader; I brought an actual paperback with me. I’m so giddy I can hardly stand it.

  “Bye, Granny! I’m taking the car now and will be back in a bit.” Sliding my feet into my flip-flops, I listen for her to respond. When she doesn’t, I turn toward the living room.

  Barking out a laugh at the scene before me, I startle both Granny and Myson who is perched on her lap. The two appear to be in some sort of standoff.

  “What’s going on here?” I ask.

  “This hairy monster won’t move out of the way, and I can’t see that hunky Elliott’s luscious rump,” she says, never taking her eyes off her new nemesis.

  I turn my gaze to the television where she has it paused so only the backside of the actor fills the screen. Good grief.

  “Myson, down,” I order as I snap my fingers and point to the other side of the room.

  “Granny, please never say the words ‘luscious rump’ again. That’s gross. Do you need anything before I go?”

  “It is luscious. Look at it. If only I was thirty years younger.”

  Groaning, I close my eyes and pinch between my eyebrows. I love my granny but I had no idea she had become one of the Golden Girls.

  “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that. I’ll be back soon. Call me if you need anything, okay?”

  “You know I’m not an invalid, right? I can manage to take care of myself for a few hours.”

  I smile and turn on my heel, making a run for it. The last thing I want to hear is her commentary on what else she thinks of that Elliott character. Stepping out the front door onto the porch, the screen door slams and I take a deep breath.

  One of my favorite parts of being in Pickerton Grove is the way every one of my senses comes to life. Closing my eyes, I can smell each of the flowers in my mom’s garden and hear kids playing in the distance. The sun is bright and heats my skin as I slip my sunglasses on, step down the porch, and cut across the grass to the car parked on the side of the house.

  As I slide into the driver’s seat, I hear Granny let out a whistle and shake my head at her antics. I don’t even want to know.

  The drive through town is quick. Not much has changed in the years I’ve been gone, and there’s something to be said about that. Pulling up in front of Espresso’d, the town’s version of a chain coffee shop, I put the car in park and practically skip my way to my treat for the day.

  When I spoke to Didi on the phone yesterday, she was very concerned about my coffee habit because there wasn’t a major chain in town. I assured her Espresso’d was perfectly capable of handling my java addiction. As I wait for my drink to be made, I peruse the display of items available for purchase and decide to pick up some of their beans and a new mug before I head home.

  Thoughts of going home—back to life away from Pickerton Grove—prick at the bubble of happiness I’ve been living in the last few days. I didn’t realize how much I needed a break from my life. How resetting my mind would make a difference. Apparently, my mother was right—going home is the best medicine. Even if I didn’t know I needed it.

  “Ally!” The sound of my name shouted makes me jump and almost knock over the display of mugs.

  “Thanks,” I huff out as I offer the barista a smile and take my cup.

  “Nice to see you home, Ally. Tell your granny hi.”

  I pause with my arm extended and cup in my hand as I glance down to the nametag on the woman’s apron.

  “Janine Wells? Oh my gosh! Hi, how are you?”

  “I’m great. Getting married next February. Can you believe it? He actually put a ring on it.” My eyes widen as my former classmate wiggles her finger with a huge sparkler on that very important finger.

  “Congrats! You and Kyle, never doubted it for a minute.”

  “Oh girl, no way. Kyle was a big douche, and I kicked him to the curb about three weeks into college. I’m engaged to Stephen Jordan.”

  My mouth drops. Stephen Jordan was two years ahead of us in school and the hottest guy to ever walk the streets of Pickerton Grove. Or really anywhere.

  “Holy shit!” I shout and then cover my mouth with my hand as we break out in giggles. “Holy shit,” I whisper this time, setting us both off a second time.

  “I know, right? Who would’ve thought? He’s awesome, and I am so lucky. How about you? Any special guy in your life?”

  Sighing I shake my head. “Nope. I’m as singl
e as they come.”

  “Well, I’d love to say there are a lot of guys in town for you to spend time with but that’d be a lie. Of course, I heard there’s a new guy working for Gary Nelson down at the shop.” Leaning in, she looks from side to side before whispering, “Rumor has it he has that whole bad boy thing going for him. Tattoos and all.”

  I laugh as she waggles her eyebrows at me and then I say, “Well, I’m headed there right now so I’ll let you know.”

  “Sounds good. I’ve got to get back to work. Let’s catch up another time, okay?”

  “Absolutely. Talk to you later.” Grabbing my cup, I exit the shop and laugh at how easily I have fallen back into not only the simplicity of small-town living but the gossip. I’m almost embarrassed with myself.

  Driving the three blocks to Nelson’s Garage takes no time. I’ve only managed to take two sips from my coffee before I’m signaling to turn into the parking lot. I slow to a stop and park in front of the office. Opening the driver’s side door, I slip the keys in my pocket and take another drink from my coffee cup. Peering inside the waiting area door, I don’t see signs of anyone, but I can hear music in the distance.

  As I make my way around the building, sounds of one of my favorite songs blares from the speakers and I begin mouthing the words when the sight before me stops me dead in my tracks. The music becomes white noise and the words of my granny echo in my mind—luscious rump.

  Bent over the hood of a cherry red sports car is the jean-clad behind of someone I pray isn’t Mr. Nelson. I mean, I remember Gary Nelson being handsome and my mom whispering how his wife was a fool for leaving him, but, not only was he my best friend’s dad, he’s old enough to be my dad.

  Please don’t be Mr. Nelson.

  Stepping toward the man, I clear my throat but he doesn’t move. I try again and when doesn’t seem to hear me over the music, I shout, “Hello! Excuse me!”

  That seems to work because he stops what he’s doing and taps the screen of his phone perched on the side of the car. With a rag in his hand, he stands to his full height and my eyes widen. He’s tall and well built. Even only seeing his back, I can see the way his muscles flex with each movement. The tank top he’s wearing accentuates his physique and while I know it’s already warm with the sun high in the sky, my internal temperature is rising right along with the heat of my skin.

  Slowly my eyes glide up his back as he turns his head. Either there’s a bee in my ear or I’m two seconds from passing out. My heart skips as a slow smile slides across his face. Janine wasn’t kidding when she said he was giving off the bad boy vibes. I’m pretty sure my panties just combusted.

  I take a tentative step toward him as he turns fully toward me and does the same. The closer I get to him, the more I regret only throwing on a pair of cutoff shorts and a ratty tank top this morning. I’m not wearing a stitch of makeup and my long locks are secured in two braids down the side of my head. Essentially, I look like a child who has no fashion sense.

  When we’re only a few feet apart, I dare to shift my gaze to his eyes. Twinkling with mischief I can see they’re dark brown, almost black. Something seems familiar about this man, like maybe I’ve seen him on television or in a magazine. Heck, he’s hot enough to grace the covers of just about any ad campaign in the world.

  “Hi, beautiful. Can I help you?”

  And there went the rest of my panties.

  Poof.

  Gone.

  Chapter 11

  Drew

  She takes my breath away.

  Seeing her in person is a surprise, and I’m at a loss for words. From the way her chest is heaving, I have to believe she is too. Only, I doubt it’s for the same reasons.

  In rapid flashes, our childhood runs through my mind, her giggles and squeals as we ran through the trees to our favorite fishing spot. The way she’d tease me for never touching a lightning bug to the way she would hold my hand when I’d walk up to the house and hear my mom yelling at Gary.

  Almost every childhood memory I have is wrapped up in a memory of Allyson Honeycutt. Her hair is darker and her once gangly body is no more. Instead, she stands before me a beautiful and sexy woman. I knew from her profile picture online and the minimal social media information I could find on her that she was beautiful. But, seeing her in front of me it’s more than I could’ve imagined.

  Part of that is because I know she’s still the same kind and funny, if only slightly awkward, person who has always owned a piece of my heart. As I wipe my hands on the rag, I slowly peruse her body from her feet up her long legs to her round hips and small waist. I pause only slightly at her beautiful tits and feel a shift in my pants. By the time my gaze reaches her face, I don’t bother hiding the smile that breaks out across my face.

  “Hi beautiful, Can I help you?”

  My words are slow and it takes a moment for me to clear my throat and correct the innuendo lacing each word. Ally blinks rapidly, with a small smile on her full heart-shaped lips.

  “Oh. Uh. Oh. Shit.” She spits each word out like she has no idea what to say next and then glances over her shoulder before pointing her thumb in the direction of the office. “I’m here for an appointment. Yeah, wow. Sorry, I’m not usually this much of a weirdo. My granny has an appointment for an oil change. I brought her car.”

  “Well, granddaughter, I’ll meet you in the office.”

  Without another word, she spins and walks away, stumbling before righting herself and then mumbling something I can’t quite understand. Before heading to the office, I grab my phone and quickly wash my hands in the work sink, splashing some cool water on my face. Having Ally out of my sight has slowed my libido for now.

  Stepping through the door that connects the shop part of the building to the office, I see Ally standing with her back to me. She’s checking something on her phone and a part of me wonders if she’s looking for an e-mail from her pen pal, D. This is the moment I should tell her who I am. I should be honest and make light of the coincidence that we’ve both returned to Pickerton Grove and how funny it is that we have been chatting online. Sure, she’s likely to be pissed and maybe even scream and yell at me. There’s a slim possibility she’ll never speak to me again, but I have become a stubborn asshole since she last saw me and eventually I’ll convince her to forgive me. I can be charming when the time is right.

  I do none of those things. Instead, I feign looking at the computer like we have a calendaring system. We don’t. It’s one of the first things I’m switching around here when I give Gary my proposed business plan. Streamlining and relying on technology. Two things I’ve come to learn my step-dad is not fond of.

  “Ah, yes looks like a simple oil change and tire rotation. Sound about right?”

  Ally turns to face me, a smile on her face. Her chest isn’t rising like it was in the yard, but her skin is flush and her smile shy.

  “Yep. Betty Honeycutt.”

  And this is the moment I’ll regret not being honest. It’s as if I’ve learned nothing in my time behind bars or what lead me there.

  “Honeycutt? Ally Cat?”

  Eyes wide, the smile falls from her lips and I want it back so I say, “It’s me, Drew. Well it’s Drew now. It was Andy.”

  “Andy?! Ohmygod! What are you doing here?” Her voice rises several decibels and the small smile she had before is now replaced with a huge grin of pure happiness. That is the look I’ve remembered all these years.

  I make my way around the counter, where she meets me and flings herself at me. Catching her, I wrap my arms around her waist and squeeze her tight. Her soft curves fit perfectly against my body her feet dangling near my shins. I inhale the scent of her. She smells like strawberries. And home.

  I hold her and enjoy every moment of her in my arms. The pang of familiarity I felt seeing her picture on that damn website is back. Between her squeals, death grip on my neck, and familiar scent I instantly relax. Each feeling and scent like a balm to the stress deep in my muscles.

&n
bsp; Then she lifts her head from my shoulder and we’re face to face. Everything fades away. Her eyes dilate and my instinct is to lay my lips on hers. To grip the back of her head and hold her lips to my own. It’s an overwhelming feeling, but I push it down and focus on what this moment is instead. Two childhood best friends who haven’t seen each other in years.

  Slowly, I set her feet on the ground, my hands resting on her hips. Slowly, she untangles her hands from around my neck and rests them on my biceps. If someone were to walk in the office, they might assume we’re starting, or even ending, a slow dance. Clearing my throat, I release my hold and take a step back, putting distance between us.

  “I can’t believe you’re here. Truthfully, I can’t believe no one told me you moved back. That’s so unlike the Pickerton gossip mill.”

  “Hmm,” I begin rubbing the back of my neck and looking down at the ground. “I haven’t been back long. Besides, I doubt anyone would actually remember me.”

  “Well I remem—” she begins then furrows her brow and purses her lips. Her attempt to look angry is cute as fuck. “I almost forgot. I’m mad at you.”

  She points her finger in my face and I snatch it in my much larger hand. The stubbornness I remember from our childhood makes an appearance, and she pulls her finger back and grips the strap of her purse.

  “Ally Cat . . .”

  “Nobody calls me that anymore.”

  “Well, you’ve always been Ally Cat to me and that’s who you shall remain. It’s good to see you. You look amazing.”

  A blush creeps up her neck and settles on her cheeks. Damn she’s cute. “Thanks. You too.”

  “I’m sorry I missed your birthday. My mom . . . well, she didn’t give me a choice. I wasn’t allowed to call anyone in Pickerton Grove after we moved. I snuck collect calls to Gary in the beginning, but eventually even that stopped.”

  “When did you start calling your dad ‘Gary’?” she asks, head tilted to the side, confusion written all over her face.