by LuAnn McLane
“I know! My face was starting to hurt from smiling.”
“You always seem to have a smile on your face, Macy. It’s one of the things I like about you.”
“Thanks,” I tell him, glad that the driver shuts the door, putting us in muted darkness so he can’t see the blush that’s surely heating my cheeks. “I’m trying hard these days to look on the sunny side.” I sneak a peek at him through my eyelashes. Maybe Jamie Lee’s right and Luke has stronger feelings for me than I thought . . .
But then he reaches over, pats my knee, and says, “That’s a good attitude, Macy. Never change.”
Well, hellfire. He might as well have patted me on the head like a puppy. Luke will forever think of me in a protective, brotherly way. Of course the devil on my shoulder whispers in my ear that this is the way it once was with Jamie Lee and Griff but I shake it off. I don’t care what anyone says; I’m just not Luke’s type. “Okay, I’ll try.” My goal is a light, breezy reply but to my dismay it comes out gurgled with emotion.
“Hey,” Luke says in a voice that’s low with concern, “I know that Jamie Lee’s marriage is going to be a little tough on you sometimes.” He gives my knee a reassuring squeeze and I have to smile. Luke really is a good guy and a squeeze is a bit better than a pat. I make the mistake, though, of looking down at his tanned hand, which is a stark contrast to his white cuff and looks so masculine next to the silky material of my dress.
“Thank you, Luke. I’ll admit that today is bittersweet. It’s one of the happiest moments . . . ,” I begin, but falter and have to dab at my eyes with Luke’s handkerchief.
“But it’s a loss of sorts for you too. It won’t be quite the same for Griff and me, so believe me, I get it. I’m about the only one left in my circle of buddies who isn’t married. You’ll find someone though. You’re too much of a sweetheart not to get snapped up by some lucky guy.” He gives my knee one final squeeze and then smiles down at me.
With a small nod I smile back but I’m gripping my bouquet so hard that I’m surprised the flowers aren’t wilting. Luke just gave me a nice compliment but my brain isn’t really processing it that way. For a moment I stare out of the tinted glass at the passing landscape without really seeing it. Luke’s lack of romantic interest is no surprise, so it shouldn’t bother me; yet his comment also makes me feel like a loser who is just hoping and praying for my prince to show up and whisk me away. Well . . .
My feisty nature is bubbling to the surface. Gripping the bouquet even tighter I swallow and try to tamp it down. If Jamie Lee were here she’d sense the signs and give me a warning look. Once I shift into feisty gear it’s sometimes hard to rein myself back in, so I take a deep breath and in a firm and almost calm voice mutter, “I don’t really feel the need to have a man in my life to make me happy or fulfilled.”
“I—”
“There might be pressure for women to still feel this way even in this day and age but I’m not about to get out there and troll for a man just to get married.”
“I—”
“Oh no, I’m not about to settle.” I try to keep my head from bopping but fail. “If and when I ever do decide to get married it will be all or nothin’.”
“You—”
“Like the Sugarland song says, ‘I ain’t settlin’ for anything less than everything.’ I mean, why should I? And if it never comes my way, then I’ll be just fine and dandy.” I shift in the seat and give my bouquet a little shake, dislodging some daisy petals, which swirl in the blast of cool air coming from the overhead vent. There’s a moment of silence that I’m not sure how to fill. Lowering the flowers to my lap I quietly say, “I guess I went a little overboard. When I get on a roll, sometimes there’s no stopping me no matter how much I just want to shut my mouth.”
“It’s okay. Emotions are runnin’ high today.” Luke gives me a slow smile filled with amusement but in my mind it is so doggone sexy that I just want to grab him by the lapels and kiss him silly. I refrain, thank the Lord.
“It—it might be low blood sugar,” I hasten to explain. “I haven’t eaten since breakfast.” Of course I want to clamp my hand over my big mouth. Sure Macy, bring attention to the fact that you have to stuff your face on a regular basis or you turn into a crazy person.
“Macy, there’s no need to apologize for speaking your mind. Especially to me.” Expecting a response, he looks at me with those blue eyes of his but I’m distracted by a curve in the country road that has me sliding so close that my shoulder and thigh press up against him. “And you’re entirely right.”
“I am?” Wow, his thigh is as hard as a rock.
“Yeah, you are.” His eyelids lower and a tender expression crosses his face. I’m still pressed against him but I pretend not to notice even though my heart is pounding like a jackhammer.
I’ve, of course, totally forgotten the point I was making, so I merely nod.
“There’s no reason whatsoever that you should ever have to settle, Macy.”
“Right.”
He flexes his fingers, and for a breathless moment I think he might take my hand in his but he doesn’t. “So don’t, okay?” When I nod again he opens his mouth to say something else but we both suddenly realize that we’ve arrived at the family farm. The serious moment passes and he smiles. “Ready to have some fun?”
“You betcha.”
2
Wedding Bell Blues
Without waiting for the driver, Luke scoots out of the limo and then offers his hand to assist me. Hooking his finger in the back of his jacket, he flips it over his shoulder and curves his other hand lightly around my elbow, making me feel almost as if we’re a couple. I’ve felt like that a lot lately, since with all of the wedding plans over the past few weeks we’ve frequently been thrown together socially. Another sad thought hits me—after today our relationship will go back to normal, which translates to me hoping for attention and Luke oblivious to my needs.
“Hey, why the frown?” Luke asks as we circle the big white farmhouse to the backyard, where the reception will take place. “The hard part’s over. Now we get to cut loose.”
“You’re right.” I flash him a smile that I hope doesn’t appear forced, since it is.
“That’s better.”
My smile widens when I give my sorry-ass self a mental shake. This is a once-in-a-lifetime occasion and I’m not going to ruin it by having an emotional meltdown. Jamie Lee and I have dreamed of this day since we were kids . . . Of course, in our imaginations it was a double wedding to whatever celebrity crush we’d had at the time and Vince Gill would be singing at the reception. “Oh, my . . .” I come to a halt and put a hand to my chest. “This is beautiful!” I dab at the corners of my eyes with Luke’s handkerchief which is wadded up in my hand.
Luke nods. “Yeah, we might have insisted that Mama hire everything out but she’s still managed to work nonstop. She was still flittin’ around fussin’ with the flower arrangements on the tables this mornin’.” He glances my way. “You should be proud too, Macy. You had a hand in the planning and more importantly kept Mama and Jamie Lee from stranglin’ each other.”
“Oh, it wasn’t that bad.”
Luke arches an eyebrow.
I have to laugh because he’s right. Jamie Lee and her mama don’t always see eye to eye. There’s been many a time when I’ve been the buffer between those two. “Well, the endless hours of planning were worth it,” I admit as I gaze at the round tables covered in white linen and topped with fresh flowers scenting the air with sweetness. Fluffy paper wedding bells strung overhead are bobbing in the breeze as if trying to chime. “Oh goodness! The cake is lovely!” I exclaim as it’s wheeled past us to a place of honor beneath a huge tent erected for the occasion. Handmade, white gum-paste roses and white petals adorn a rolled butter-cream cake decorated with whimsical hearts and a pearl border. It was one of the few details Jamie Lee and her mama actually agreed upon. Later, after dusk there will be thousands of twinkling lights and flickering candles ca
sting a soft glow over the festivities. For simple country folks, I do believe we’ve outdone ourselves.
“Why, this could be featured in Southern Living magazine,” I gush.
“Oh no, here comes trouble,” Luke says fondly as his mother rushes out the back door. “Every detail has been taken care of, but you just watch, she’ll find something to fiddle with.”
Luke’s right. Daisy Carter surveys the backyard with a critical eye. She doesn’t see us since we’re off to the side of the yard and not directly in her line of vision.
“Thirsty?” Luke asks as he reaches into a decorative tub filled with ice, beer, water, and pop.
“Parched,” I admit, and I’m about to ask for a bottle of water when he unscrews a longneck and hands it to me. When I hesitate he says, “Go on—you’ve earned it.”
“You twisted my arm.”
“That’s my girl,” he says with a wink, and then reaches into the tub for another one. “The guests will be arriving shortly, and then, heaven help us, more picture taking before I can shed this jacket for good.”
His girl . . . I smile but hide my sigh behind a swig of cold beer. If only. We drink in companionable silence while watching his mama give orders like a drill sergeant. It’s weird since she’s so soft-spoken but she somehow has the ability to make people listen. “You think there’s somethin’ we should be doin’?”
“I’m not goin’ anywhere near my mama. Oh no, here comes Dad.” Tipping back his bottle, Luke takes a long pull of his beer. “He shoulda stayed inside where it’s safe.”
“Daisy, you need any help?”
Luke slowly shakes his head. “Wrong question, Pop.”
“Do I look like I need help?” Daisy puts her hands on her slim hips and stares him down. Despite the heat she looks cool as a cucumber in a lovely, shimmering gold tea-length dress that showcases her deep red hair and ivory skin. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her break a sweat.
Instead of being intimidated like the servers seem to be, he slowly walks her way, looking quite handsome in his tux. The thought occurs to me that Luke will age just as gracefully. Even at this distance I can see that his deep tan from hours spent working outdoors makes his eyes appear bluer.
“You look delicious.” He leans in for a kiss that has Daisy pushing at his shoulders but then giving in and kissing him back. He sticks the pink rosebud back in the arrangement and takes Daisy’s hand. “Enough, woman. The guests are arriving, including our beautiful daughter and new son-in-law.”
“They’re arriving?” Daisy gasps. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“That’s precisely what I came out here to do . . . well, that and to sneak a smooch.”
Luke grins. “I sure wish I were as smooth as my pop. I think he’s the only man alive who knows just how to handle Mama.” But then Luke raises both hands in the air. “I meant that fondly, just so you know.”
I feel heat creep into my cheeks. “I’m sorry, Luke. I overreacted before.”
“Yeah, you’re a little firecracker just like my mother.” He pauses for a second and angles his head at me. “I wonder if there’s a man out here who can handle you?” Luke teases, but then he taps his beer bottle to his head. “There I go again, heading into dangerous territory.”
His half grin makes me suddenly wonder if . . . ohmigod if he’s flirting. I wish I had the nerve to say, What about you, Luke? Think you could handle me? But of course I don’t, even with the beer buzz that went straight to my head. I’m saved from answering since everyone seems to be arriving at once. What am I thinking anyway? Luke was teasing, not flirting. Right?
Griff’s brother, Brandon, is directing cars into the grass field to the left of the house and guests are swarming into the yard like honeybees on a mission. Here in the country, past the city limit signs, people work hard and play hard. Luke gives me a crooked smile that I can’t quite read and says, “Okay, maid of honor, you ready to party?”
“Yeah, I am, best man.”
And party we do. After Reverend Jacobs has us bow our heads in prayer, Jamie Lee and Griff lead us to the buffet line. The table is laden with mounds of food. Roast beef, country ham, and fried chicken are the main attractions but there’s also every side dish known to Southern man. Even though Daisy had the whole thing catered, that didn’t stop neighbors from bringing covered dishes, but it’s a good thing because although half the town was invited, it looks to me like the other half are wedding crashers.
Since this is a special occasion I pile my plate high with my favorite foods, refusing to worry about carbs or calories. I’m seated at the head table next to Jamie Lee with Luke to the other side of me. Ever the gentleman, he pulls out my chair and is so attentive that I have to remind myself that this is a Cinderella evening and that he’s not really my date, however much it feels that way. After tonight my maid-of-honor duties will be over. I’ll go back to styling hair at Jamie Lee’s Cut & Curl with her mama who will be filling in while the newlyweds are on their honeymoon . . . two weeks in Hawaii! I won’t lie, I’m more than a little jealous.
“Can I get you anything?” Luke asks. “I’m going for a beer.”
“Yes, thanks.” It will be my third but I tell myself that it’s a wedding reception for goodness’s sake. Jamie Lee’s been telling me to loosen up and tonight I plan on letting my hair down a little. It’s been a long time since I’ve whooped it up and maybe it will pull me out of my blue mood.
“Luke sure seems to be stuck at your side, Macy,” Jamie Lees says, and wags her eyebrows.
“Oh stop! It’s part of the best man’s duties for Pete’s sake,” I say with a wave of my hand, but give her a look that says, Do you think so?
“I think he’s going over and above the call of duty.”
I roll my eyes at her. “Yeah, well, I think the champagne is goin’ to your head. Luke’s just bein’ polite, just like always,” I protest, fully expecting Jamie Lee to argue her point right back like we always do, but she frowns thoughtfully instead and stays quiet. I know she’s waiting for me to prompt her, so I stubbornly don’t. Well, for a few seconds anyway. “Okay, what?”
Jamie Lee leans in closer to me, which is a sure sign that I’m not going to like what she has to say. “You should make your move.” She pauses for drama, and then whispers, “Tonight.”
“What?” I squeak, but I already know what she’s alluding to.
“You should make your move on Luke,” she repeats in a stage whisper.
“That’s it. I’m cutting you off.” I reach for her flute of champagne but she puts her hand over mine.
“I’m serious!” she insists. “Stop pussyfootin’ around, Macy, or it’ll be too late. You and Mama pushed me with Griff and look what happened.”
“That was different. It was plain as day that you two were in love. Luke isn’t into me that way.”
“And you know this, how?” She shakes a dinner roll at me.
“Because . . . because I’m . . . me.”
Jamie Lee’s eyes narrow. “Don’t you dare go puttin’ yourself down!”
“I’m just statin’ the facts. You can put your boots in the oven but that doesn’t make them biscuits.” I pick up my dinner roll as a prop. It’s not a biscuit but close enough.
“Now what in the world is that supposed to mean?” Jamie Lee asks in a bit of a heated tone. She shakes her head at me but her hair stays in place thanks to my liberal dousing of shimmering hair spray.
“No matter what you say, the fact remains that I am what I am and nothing can change the fact that your brother is way out of my league, especially since he took the Payton Panthers to the NCAA championship, raising his hero status to a new level!”
Jamie Lee opens her mouth to protest but the photographer pauses to snap our picture, so we smile momentarily and then go back to our argument. Griff, who is used to our heated discussions, concentrates on his meal. I dearly wish that Luke would get his butt back here so we could end this pointless conversation but I spot him chatting
with Brandon.
I chew up a bite of my dinner roll and then say, “They just named a doggone street after your brother, Jamie Lee, and the Welcome to Hootertown sign now says, Home of Luke Carter!” I’m trying to keep my voice down to a whisper but two beers on an empty stomach are making it difficult for me to do so. I shove another bite of roll into my mouth, thinking that food will help the situation.
“Macy, this is Hootertown, Kentucky, for goodness’ sake, not . . .” She leans closer to my ear and whispers, “Hollywood.” She gives me a pointed look. “It’s not where you’re from or what you do for a living that matters. It’s what’s in here.” She taps her heart and her eyes mist over. “Just promise me that you’ll follow your dreams and listen to your heart.”
“I promise,” I tell her gruffly, and have to dab at my eyes once more. Pretty soon my waterproof mascara is going to give up the fight.
“And this ring on my finger doesn’t mean I won’t be here for you.”
“I know.” We do our secret handshake that we’ve been doing since we were kids. I know she means what she says but things have changed. Griff is her first priority now, as he should be. Soon she’ll be having babies and driving a minivan. I start to tear up again for both sad and happy reasons but when I spot Luke heading back to the table I rein in my emotions. He’s removed his jacket and has his cuffs turned back to reveal tanned forearms. The black fitted vest shows off the fact that he’s as fit and trim as his football days but without the overly bulky muscle. With his neatly trimmed dark hair and a five o’clock shadow he could easily grace the cover of GQ. Luke might be a country boy at heart but there’s a polished way about him that I find insanely attractive but intimidating at the same time.
“Here’s your drink,” Luke says as he slides into the seat beside me. “Sorry I got sidetracked.”
I accept the cold bottle with a smile. “No problem. I needed to slow down anyway.”