A Little Less Talk and a Lot More Action

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A Little Less Talk and a Lot More Action Page 3

by LuAnn McLane


  “The offer’s still open to stay here, you know.”

  I nod after taking a sip. “I appreciate that.”

  “Then just plan on it and don’t worry.”

  Jamie Lee, who is eating but I know darned well is listening to every word, nudges me with her knee. I turn and give her a he’s-just-being-polite look but she shakes her head.

  Lucky for me Griff distracts her. “Jamie Lee,” he says, “your mama has been gesturing toward you.”

  “I know. I’ve been ignoring her.”

  “I think she’s getting pissed,” Griff warns in a she’s now my mother-in-law way. “What’s that all about?”

  “She wants me to get up and mingle.”

  “That include me?”

  Jamie Lee leans in and kisses him. “No. You finish your meal. I’ll handle Mama. But don’t wander off, because in a little while we’ll have the cutting of the cake, which you will not shove in my face and up my nose,” she says firmly. When Griff gives her an innocent nod, I snicker. “And then comes the throwing of the bouquet,” Jamie Lee adds, and gives me a pointed I’ll-be-tossing-it-directly-at-you look. “By then Wet Willie’s band will have arrived and we can finally let our hair down and get this party started.” After eating a few more bites she gives Griff a peck on the cheek and says, “Okay, off to do my mingling duties.”

  After Jamie Lee leaves, Griff shoots me a grin. “How you holdin’ up, maid of honor?”

  “Fine,” I tell him, but of course my eyes start to leak because I think he is such a great guy and Jamie Lee is going to be so happy. “You’re a lucky guy, Griff. Jamie Lee is one of a kind,” I say, and my voice cracks. Oh crap, now my nose is starting to run. I’m going to have to break down and blow here in a second.

  Luke tips his chair onto its back legs, bracing his hand on my chair so he can lean and say, “Yeah, she’s one of a kind, all right. They broke the mold after Jamie Lee. I tried to warn ya,” he jokes. I would have laughed but I’m too zoned in on the fact that Luke’s arm is brushing against my bare shoulders. “Don’t come cryin’ to me after the honeymoon is over.”

  Griff laughs. “Jamie Lee is gonna be pissed when she finds out that you wrote Help me on the bottom of my shoes.”

  “Did you know it when you put them on?”

  “Yeah,” Griff admits, but puts his fingers to his lips when I give him a wide-eyed, openmouthed stare. I was about to give the groom a piece of my mind about the seriousness of the occasion but Luke leans in closer and his chest touches my shoulder, and my brain goes into Luke overload.

  “Yeah, Griff, it’s all honey-do from here on in.”

  “Yeah, right,” Griff scoffs, but when Jamie Lee crooks her finger from over at the cake he immediately jumps to his feet and heads her way.

  “That boy is whipped.” Luke lowers his chair back down to the ground but his arm remains on the back of mine. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that,” he amends with a grin.

  “Glad you added that part.” My tone is deceptively breezy since my heart is thudding wildly. Does he realize that his arm is practically around my shoulders? Does he want it there? Or is it just casual . . . friendly in an I’ve-known-you-forever-this-means-nothing kind of way? I look in Jamie Lee’s direction to see if she’s observing the arm-around-me gesture but she’s busy posing like she’s cutting the cake with Griff.

  “Any bets on whether Griff shoves the cake in her face?” Luke asks.

  Trying to ignore the way the hair on his arm is causing a tingling sensation to slide down my spine I say, “Griff will be gentle but Jamie Lee will have no problem shoving a bite in his face.”

  “Naw, he’ll get her good.”

  “No way.”

  “Wanna bet?”

  “Sure, cause I know I’m right.”

  “Okay then, what’s the wager?”

  “If you win I’ll give you a free haircut,” I offer.

  “Fair enough,” he says with a grin.

  “Okay then, if you’re right, what’ll you give me?” I automatically ask. My heart pounds when he doesn’t immediately answer and I swear his gaze drops to my mouth. If he says a kiss, I’m going to slide right out of my chair.

  “How about lunch?”

  “What?”

  “If you win I’ll buy you lunch anywhere that doesn’t have a dollar menu.”

  “Oh,” I say with a nervous chuckle. A kiss . . . Who am I kidding? “Sure, okay.”

  “Come on then, let’s get closer.”

  “Closer?”

  “To the cake. I need to egg Griff on.”

  “Oh, right.” Close to the cake . . . not closer to me. God, I’m officially losing my mind. It’s all Jamie Lee’s fault by telling me to make my doggone move. Here I am reading something into nothing. But then Luke puts his hand on the small of my back, gently leading me through the crowd. I know that it’s a gentlemanly gesture but right now it somehow feels intimate and possessive. Inhaling a deep breath I try to clear my brain and remind myself that this is not a date, but a doggone wedding.

  The guests part the way not because we’re the best man and maid of honor, but more likely because it’s hometown hero Luke. When we reach the front of the crowd, Luke eases me in front of him since even in my killing-my-feet heels, he towers over me. Again, this is the mannerly thing to do but that doesn’t change the fact that I can feel the heat of his body standing so close. And then he lightly rests his hands on my shoulders and it’s all I can do not to lean back against him.

  Jamie Lee and Griff slowly cut the first piece together, allowing for pictures to be snapped. He says something in her ear and she laughs. I think again just how perfect they are for each other and sigh.

  “You ready to lose?” Luke teases in my ear when Griff lifts the small slice of cake to Jamie Lee’s lips, pausing for photos. The crowd is cheering him on, of course hoping for him to get her good. Griff grins and waggles his eyebrows . . .

  3

  Holes in the Floor of Heaven

  When Jamie Lee narrows her eyes in warning, Griff’s grin gets wider and the guests get louder. I remember reading somewhere that tradition dictated that the bride feed the groom first, but I bet Jamie Lee wanted to see if he would smash the cake in her face before getting her turn to retaliate. Griff feeds her a delicate bite while the crowd boos. I give Luke a joyous little jab with my elbow.

  Then Jamie Lee takes a slice of cake and puts it to Luke’s mouth. She pauses for a picture, smiles sweetly at him, and proceeds to feed him a tiny bite . . . but then shoves the heel of her hand upward, squishing icing over his chin and cheeks. The crowd roars, but just when Jamie Lee thinks she’s had the upper hand, Griff grabs her and kisses her, smearing icing all over her face as well. At first, Jamie Lee pushes at his shoulders but then wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him right back. Griff picks her up and spins her around while cameras flash like strobe lights.

  With a triumphant smile I turn to Luke and jab my thumb at my chest. “I win.”

  “Did not,” he responds.

  With my hands on my hips I shoot a frown at him. “How do you figure that? It went down just like I said it would.”

  “Griff got her back and then some.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “He knew what she would do and planned the whole thing.”

  “Nuh-uh.”

  Luke angles his head. “Be honest, Macy.”

  If only I could, I think to myself but then say, “Okay . . . you’re probably right. I guess it’s sort of a tie although I was more right than you.” I jab my thumb at my chest but then feel as if I’m pointing at my boobs and quickly lower my hand.

  “How about if you give me a haircut and I take you to lunch afterward? Deal?”

  “Deal,” I agree, and extend my hand to shake on it but he gives me the high five, side slap, knuckle bump.

  “Hey, how’d you know the secret handshake?”

  Luke scratches his chin. “Well, hmmm let me see . . . I’ve only see
n you and my sister do it a few thousand times.”

  “Right. I guess it’s not so secret. You probably know a lot more about me than you want to know,” I say with a laugh.

  Luke looks at me rather thoughtfully but his reply is lost in the noise of the crowd when it’s announced that it’s time to toss the bouquet and then the garter. Jamie Lee goes over to the back-porch steps but before she turns her back to the single women gathered in a group, she gives me a discreet little elbow point to the right. Everyone else probably thought she was flexing her tossing arm but I know she wants me to stand there so I can catch the doggone thing. I nod and rub my hands together but these shoes weren’t made for running so I have my doubts.

  “Okay! On the count of three!” Jamie Lee raises her bouquet in the air and shouts, “One, two . . . three!” and she lets ’er rip. Unfortunately, her throw goes cockeyed and way, way up in the air, flipping a few times before beginning to descend as if in slow mo. I try, I really do, but I’m no match for single women on a mission for marriage. Pushing, shoving, and squealing ensue. Rose Jenkins slips in the grass and lands on her butt in an unladylike spread eagle. Miss Irma knocks me sideways, almost bowls over a six-year-old whose mama should not have let her into the fray. I blink in wonder when Miss Irma elbows Lorna Mae Sweetwater out of the way and then jumps higher than I think is humanly possible for a woman her age, especially with her skinny legs. She makes a single-handed sideways catch that should be replayed on Sports Center tomorrow morning.

  “Woohoo!” Miss Irma shouts in her smoker’s voice, and does a victory dance as if she were in the end zone after a touchdown. Lorna Mae purses her lips and gives Miss Irma a glare, but Miss Irma juts her chin out in a you-want-a-piece-of-me challenge. Lorna Mae gives her a disgusted wave of her hand, turns on her orthopedic heel, and marches away, mumbling beneath her breath. I spot Miss Irma’s purple pillbox and scoop it up before Lorna Mae stomps all over it.

  “That was amazing, Miss Irma.” I pin the hat back on top of her stiff, hair-sprayed curls.

  “Yer, not mad at me, are ya? I know Jamie Lee wanted you to catch it but you’ve got a lot of years ahead of you to git yerself a man. My days are numbered.” She pulls me close and says in her gruff way, “’Sides, I think that Luke is sweet on you, Macy. Caught him eyeing your hiney.”

  “You did not!” I gasp, but think, Wow, was he really?

  “Did too!” she insists. “You are boo-ti-licious, girlfriend.”

  “Miss Irma, you really need to stop watching MTV.”

  “Why? Makes me feel young . . . and fr-isky. I’m tellin’ ya, Luscious Luke was ogling yer backside,” she insists, but her eyes are twinkling with humor so I’m not quite sure if I should take her seriously. I don’t have time to wonder because it’s time for Griff to take the garter off Jamie Lee and toss it to the bachelors.

  Whooping and cheering erupt when Griff lifts Jamie Lee’s dress and dips his dark head beneath the white folds.

  Griff makes a big show of sliding the garter down Jamie Lee’s leg with his teeth while Wet Willie’s Band plays a striptease tune in the background. Jamie Lee fans her face and laughs with the crowd. Finally, Griff stands up with the garter dangling from his mouth and then twirls it around his finger shouting, “You ready, boys? Who’s brave enough to risk catching this thing?”

  Jamie Lee’s jaw drops in mock horror and when Griff turns around, she gives him a quick kick in the butt with the toe of her shoe, not hard enough to make him stumble but he pretends to almost fall down. Cameras are clicking and I’m thinking that the retelling of the events will surely be embellished.

  “Wish me luck.” Luke winks and then joins the circle of single men. Griff counts to three and then fakes them out. The guys boo and then jockey for position.

  Jamie Lee brakes and comes over to stand by me. “Hoping Luke catches it?” she teases.

  I shrug. “Makes no difference to me.”

  Jamie Lee gives me a yeah-right look. “I tried to get the bouquet to you but my aim wasn’t too good.”

  “That’s okay. Miss Irma is thrilled. Can you believe she could jump that high?”

  Jamie Lee laughs but our attention is diverted when Griff flings the garter into the rowdy crowd. I watch as Luke jumps high but just when I think he has it, Griff’s brother, Brandon, snatches it from the air with a triumphant whoop! I have to grin when I hear a collective sigh from the younger girls in the crowd. With his shaggy hair, stud earring, and armband tattoo, he has bad boy written all over him and the girls in Hootertown eat it up. Griff tries to keep him on the straight and narrow but it’s a challenge.

  “Whoo-wee,” Miss Irma says with a sigh. “The boy sure would be a walk on the wild side.”

  Jamie Lee laughs. “Miss Irma, he’s supposed to put the garter on you since you caught the bouquet.” She points to the chair. “Go sit yourself down.”

  To my surprise Miss Irma shakes her head so hard that her hat slides even more cockeyed. “You want me to have a heart attack right here and now?”

  “Oh come on!” Jamie Lee coaxes. “You’re made of stronger stuff than that!”

  “Yeah, right. The moment that boy would slide his hand up my bony old leg my heart would explode. If nothin’ else I’d slide right outta that chair and break a hip.”

  Jamie Lee laughs. “Okay, we’ll skip it.” She hooks an arm in mine and the other one in Miss Irma’s. “Let’s go get us some cake before the dancin’ begins.”

  We never do make it as far as the cake before it’s announced that the wedding party is supposed to come forward for the first dance. This makes my heart pound harder since of course this means a slow dance with Luke.

  When I’m sort of frozen in place Jamie Lee grabs my hand and tugs me forward. We head over toward the barn where Wet Willie’s Band had set up a small stage and a fairly large, raised wooden dance floor. By this time the sun is sinking low in the sky, sending streaks of pink through the warm orange glow. Tiki torches have been lighted to keep the bugs at bay but I’m wondering if someone has forgotten to hook up the twinkling lights. I’m surprised since Daisy is so on top of everything.

  When we reach the barn Griff is standing solo in the middle of the wooden floor. As soon as he sees Jamie Lee, he extends one beckoning hand in her direction. As soon as her fingers touch his, thousands of twinkling lights illuminate the night, making the simple country setting suddenly seem magical. Wet Willie is a great big, rough-looking guy but he has a velvet voice made for love songs. His smooth rendition of John Michael Montgomery’s “I Swear” has tears sliding down my cheeks and I’m not the only one.

  Halfway through the song Luke comes to my side. “Mama just informed me that we’re supposed to join them.” When I nod my head in agreement he gives me a tender smile and wipes away a tear with the pad of his thumb. With a shaky laugh I swipe at my cheeks and then take his offered hand. Jamie Lee’s mama and daddy join us and I’m pleased that Brandon asks his mama to dance too. He might be a hell-raiser but he’s a good kid.

  My heart thumps as fast as the wings of a humming-bird as we move in a slow circle to the beat of the music. Even though I’m in heels, the top of my head still comes only to his chin . . . not that I’d have the nerve to dance cheek to cheek anyway. His hand feels warm and possessive on my bare back and I really, really want to press my body to his. Of course I don’t have the nerve, especially in front of all these people.

  By this time Luke’s Windsor tie is missing and the first few buttons of his shirt are open, giving me a nice view of tanned skin. I’m suddenly nervous not only from dancing with Luke but I’m in front of an audience, no less. When my hand trembles in his I’m totally embarrassed.

  “Dance like no one is watching,” Luke says in my ear.

  I look up and smile, thinking, Yeah right, that would mean plastering myself against you. But I’m pleased that he sensed my mood and cares enough to try and calm my nerves. Trying to clear my head, I inhale a deep breath but the spicy scent of Luke’s col
ogne only makes me want to fling my arms around his neck . . . but of course I don’t.

  As we sway to the music, though, his hand slowly slides up from the small of my back to meet bare skin. And it’s probably my imagination but it suddenly feels as if he’s holding my hand a bit tighter, pulling me in a tad closer. When my breasts brush against Luke’s chest, a hot tingle shoots all the way to my pinched toes. His chest expands when he takes a deep breath and then he splays his fingers more firmly against my cool skin in what feels, holy cow, almost like a caress. Could he be experiencing some of the same feelings that are washing over me like warm summer rain? Do I dare move my hand from his shoulder to his neck and curl my fingers into his hair?

  I’m thinking about this so hard that at first I don’t realize that the song has ended until Luke starts leading me off the floor. “Thanks,” he says when we reach the edge of the wooden planks.

  “Anytime,” I tell him, and then want to bite off my tongue. Stupid answer, I’m thinking but he smiles and leans down to give me a kiss on the cheek.

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” he replies, and I wonder if he’s flirting or just being polite. If I weren’t such a wuss I would find out . . . make my move like Jamie Lee suggested. The problem here of course is that if I make my move so to speak and I get shot down, not only does it dash my dreams but it would make things forever awkward between Luke and me, and I’m not sure I want to risk that.

  My pathetic musings are interrupted when Wet Willie announces that the next dance is for fathers and daughters beginning with Jamie Lee and her daddy. I look around and spot my own daddy chatting with his fishing buddies but he excuses himself and heads my way. Being a trucker means he’s gone a lot, so I treasure the time I get to spend with him. He’s a gruff man of few words who didn’t always know the right thing to say to a young girl who lost her mama too young, but he tried his best and I love him to pieces.

  “May I have this dance?” he asks with a twinkle in his eye.

  I incline my head and tuck my arm in his. “You may.”

  “I haven’t gotten the chance to tell you how lovely you look, Macy. More and more like your mama every day,” he says with a warm smile edged with sadness.

 

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