by LuAnn McLane
“You gonna get down on one knee?” Snake wanted to know.
“Should I?” Jeff felt another surge of panic and looked at his band members for help. Again, they all nodded their agreement.
“Okay.” Jeff shook his head and reached into his pocket again.
“Do you really think that ring is gonna jump out of your jeans?” Colin asked with a laugh.
“Just chill, man,” Sam told him. He slid his guitar to the side and gave Jeff a quick guy kind of hug.
“This is gonna be epic,” Jax agreed. “Hey, Jeff, I’m sorry for all the shit I put you through. Cat is a super cool chick. I really regret being such an asshat.”
“Yeah, you were kind of an asshat.” Jeff gave Jax a shove. “But looking back, I think everything had to happen the way it did for Cat to figure out what she really wanted. We’re gonna record some sweet-ass songs together, but she will have the time to do what’s important to her.” He shook his head up to the sky. “And damn, I love her.”
“Where is she?” Sam asked. “It’s almost time to go on.”
“Last-minute wardrobe change. She spilled sweet tea on her white jeans,” Jeff said with a chuckle.
“Does she have any idea of your surprises?” Colin asked.
“Neither one,” Jeff replied and felt his heart thump.
“Can I see the ring?” Sam asked.
“No!” Jeff said.
“Just a quick peek before Cat gets back?” Sam insisted.
“A quick peek at what?” Cat asked.
“Nothing!” they said in unison, but Jeff made the mistake of putting his hand over his pocket. His eyes met hers and she smiled.
“So …” Cat tilted her head to the side. “What’s in your pocket?”
Jeff cleared his throat. “Cat … I don’t—”
“No,” she interrupted softly. “Perfect timing, actually,” she added and Jeff understood. These guys were going to be like brothers to her and it suddenly felt right to include them in this special moment. Cat stepped closer and, knowing what was going to happen, the band formed a protective circle around her and Jeff, hiding them from any onlookers.
Jeff reached in his pocket, pulled out the ring box, and knelt down on one knee. Flipping the lid open, he said, “Cat Carson, I love you with all my heart. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
Cat put her hand to her chest and nodded. “Yes!” She held out her hand for him to slip the ring on her finger. “Oh!” She gazed down at the delicate solitaire.
He’d chosen a ring that was perfect and unpretentious, just like her. Jeff got up to his feet. “You like it?”
“I love it. I love you!” Cat threw her arms around his neck and hugged him hard.
Jeff kissed her and then grinned when she stepped back and spun in a slow circle showing off the ring.
“Snake, are you crying?” Cat asked.
“Hell no!” Snake shook his head but then laughed and swiped at the corner of his eyes. “Aw, damn,” he said and then pulled Cat in for a bear hug. Each of the guys hugged her in turn and Jeff watched, having trouble keeping his own emotion under control.
“Can I announce our engagement onstage?” Jeff asked.
“Yes, absolutely,” Cat said and then threw herself into his arms again, nearly knocking him over.
• • •
Colin peeked his head around the wall and ducked back. “They couldn’t have fit one more person on that lawn. This is crazy.”
“I’m still floored that Shane wanted to open the tour here in Cricket Creek,” Sam said.
“Maria wrote six of his number ones,” Cat reminded them. “And she’s got one more amazing song for Shane up her sleeve that she enticed him with.” Cat leaned in closer. “You didn’t hear it from me, but Rick is trying to get Shane to retire here in Cricket Creek,” she said, just loud enough to be heard above the crowd. “Apparently Shane is an avid fisherman and Maggie has a huge log cabin for sale with a private dock overlooking the river.”
“That would be amazing if Shane McCray retired to Cricket Creek,” Snake said and shook his shaggy head. “I mean, wow—I can’t even wrap my brain around that.”
“You can’t wrap that brain around anything,” Colin said and was rewarded with a shove.
“Oh gosh, Pete is announcing us!” Cat did a little happy bounce that Jeff thought was so damned cute. She looked down at her ring and hugged him again, drawing a collective laugh from the band.
“How y’all doin’, Cricket Creek, Kentucky?” Pete shouted, and then had to wait for the applause to die down before he could be heard. “As y’all know, we have the honor of having the iconic Shane McCray start his final tour right here in our town! It doesn’t get any better than that… .” he said and then had to wait again. “Wait. It does get better than that. We have our very own Jeff Greenfield and South Street Riot in the house!” The crowd went nuts.
Jeff leaned close to Cat’s ear so she could hear him. “Pete is eating this up.”
Cat nodded. “This is so awesome. I love it!”
“And as a very special guest, we have the one and only Cat Carson! Wait—she’s our own now too!” He waited and waited for the applause to die down and then shouted into the microphone, “Ladies and gentlemen, let’s give it up for Jeff Greenfield, Cat Carson, and South Street Riot!”
Jeff grabbed Cat’s hand and they all headed onto the stage. He looked out over the crowd and spotted his family. With a grin Jeff grabbed the microphone. “Hey, Cricket Creek, is this exciting or what?” he shouted and raised his hands when the crowd erupted with wild enthusiasm. “Before we begin, I have a little something I want to announce. No … I take that back. Make that a big something I want to announce,” he corrected, and the audience became silent in anticipation. “I just proposed to the beautiful, one and only Cat Carson.”
Jeff turned to Cat. She raised her left hand in the air. “And I said yes!”
The crowd erupted with wild applause. “Kiss!” someone shouted, and so he did—not that he needed any encouragement.
“Look over to the left by my family,” Jeff said into her ear.
Cat spotted her mother and father and then put her hand over her mouth. She looked back at Jeff and smiled.
“Surprise.”
“Oh, Jeff!” Tears immediately slipped out of the corner of her eyes and she waved to her parents, who were clinging to each other. Turning back to Jeff, she said to him, “Just when I think I can’t love you any more than I already do …” She grabbed him and hugged him while the crowd cheered on and on.
Jeff said to her, “Well, I have one more surprise.” Stepping back, he nodded to Snake and then strummed the first four notes to the Beatles song “And I Love Her.”
A hush fell over the crowd and Cat put her hands to her cheeks. Looking into her eyes, Jeff sang the lyrics straight from his heart. Simply but eloquently, the words said it all.
Don’t miss the next novel in
LuAnn McLane’s charming Cricket Creek series,
WALKING ON SUNSHINE
Available in May 2015 from Signet Eclipse.
“RUSTY, GET BACK HERE RIGHT THIS MINUTE!” MATTIE shouted at her brother’s Irish setter, but he bolted from the kitchen with the slab of country ham dangling from his chops. “I mean it!”
Mattie rushed after Rusty, knowing full well that the dog wasn’t about to stop. Although the ham could no longer be served to her customers, Mattie felt the need to scold the naughty dog and deprive him of his prize. She also felt the need to scold her brother Mason for leaving Rusty with her again while he went fishing. Apparently, Rusty, who used to be quite the docile dog while riding in Mason’s bass boat, now had the odd urge to jump into the water without warning.
“I swear I’m never saving you a bone ever again!” Fuming, Mattie dodged tables and chairs while chasing Rusty around the dining room, glad that the restaurant wasn’t open for breakfast just yet. For an old dog, Rusty still managed some impressive speed and agility,
but this was the second ham heist this week, making Mattie determined to catch him. Country ham and biscuits was a popular item on the breakfast menu! When Rusty headed toward the big booth in the back of the dining room, Mattie threw caution to the wind and did a half dive, half slide across the hardwood floor, hoping to snag him around his haunches and bring him to the justice he so richly deserved… .
And she came up with nothing but air.
With a groan, Mattie pounded her fists on the floor. She pictured Rusty doing a wheezy doggy laugh while munching on the salty slab of ham. “I’m gonna tell on you!” Mattie threatened with a bit more fist pounding. After another moment, she started pushing up to her feet, then looked ahead and spotted shoes. Yeah, shoes, not boots. Kinda fancy shoes at that …
“Excuse me. Are you … are you … quite all right?” asked an unusual male voice that made her pause, leaving her in a Pilates plank position.
Two things immediately went through Mattie’s head. Number one was that the question held a measure of concern at her plight rather than the amusement that was usually dealt her way; and number two was that his accent was a distinctively clipped British one rather than a slow, Southern drawl. Mattie quickly scooted to her knees, apparently just as he squatted, because suddenly they were eye to—oh … very blue eyes. She swallowed, staring. The man was simply gorgeous.
“Um …” He tilted his shaggy blond head to the side. “Is something amiss?”
“No, I … uh …” What did he just ask? Her brain suddenly left the building. “Oh, a … ham,” she managed, and then realized it sounded is if she were clearing her throat. “H-Ham. I was running after the ham.”
“You were chasing after a ham?” He shoved his fingers through his hair, making it stand on end. Mattie had the urge to reach over and smooth it back into its beautiful style. There was something vaguely familiar about him that she couldn’t quite place. “So the ham ran away, did it?”
“Yes … Well, no. It was a dog.”
“A dog named Ham? Now it makes sense.”
“What? No …” Mattie shook her head hard, making her ponytail swing back and forth.
“Are you quite certain you’re all right?”
“Yes. Why do you keep asking that?”
“Well, mainly because you were facedown while pounding your fists on the floor when I walked in. Cause for some concern, I’d say.”
Mattie looked down at her fists. “Oh, right. I guess I was.”
“Early in the day to be so unsettled, don’t you think?” he asked gently. “Is there anything I can do? Search for the runaway ham perhaps?”
“I …” it was hard to think when he looked so cute and sounded so, well, so damned sexy. Mattie suddenly felt silly for having been caught in her fit of frustration on the floor like some kind of crazy person. Should she admit that she was trying to tackle a dog? Would that be better or worse than chasing a ham? “I … I was having a … moment.”
“Ah.” He gave her a crooked grin, which made a fluttery thing happen in her stomach. Must be hunger pangs. “Haven’t had your coffee yet? I can sympathize. You’d best serve me up a cup, or I’ll be joining you in your fist-pounding moment.” He stood up and then reached down to help her to her feet.
Mattie took his offered hand, finding his warm, firm grasp to be so pleasant that she felt reluctant to let go. Realizing that she was clinging to his hand, she made a shaking motion that masked her lingering hold with an introduction. “I’m Mattie Mayfield, by the way. Welcome to Breakfast, Books, and Bait … or BBB for short.” She gave his hand a firm squeeze like her daddy had taught her.
“Well, thank you for the rather odd but warm welcome, Mattie Mayfield. I am duly charmed and also rather fascinated by the wide range of seemingly unrelated items you have to offer here at BBB.” He looked over at the bags of fishing bait shelved on the far wall. “Are the worms all dead, then?”
Mattie nodded. “Well, no, I mean, not dead. Artificial—you know—plastic, mostly used for bass fishing.”
“Ah, and the fish fall for that, do they?” he asked with another boyishly cute grin.
“Oddly, yes.”
He chuckled. “It must be quite the letdown to be lured in by a silly piece of plastic instead of a tasty worm. I’d spit it out straightaway.”
Mattie had to laugh. “Yes, but there’s that tiny complication called the hook.”
“Oh … true enough.” He winced. “Ouch. Adding insult to injury and then ending up in a frying pan.”
“No, no … no.” Mattie scrunched up her nose. “You really don’t want to consume anything caught in the Ohio River.” She waved a hand in the direction of the bait. “This is all mostly for catch and release, for sport and tournaments we host.”
“We?”
Mattie jabbed her thumb toward the window that overlooked the dock. “My family owns Mayfield Marina,” she answered with a measure of pride. For some reason, she felt it important that he think she was more accomplished than someone who simply slung hash and baked biscuits was, not that there was anything wrong with an honest day’s work. “So, what can I get for you?” she asked a bit crisply.
He looked past the bait toward the rear of the shop, where Mattie kept her selection of books. “I think I’ll pass on the bait, but breakfast sounds lovely. And perhaps a book later.”
“Have a seat, and I’ll bring you a menu.”
“All right, then.”
Mattie thought he’d opt for a booth, but he followed her to the counter lined with old-fashioned round swivel stools in deep red. Mattie had been serving breakfast for several years, and her melt-in-your-mouth biscuits were raved about, but she suddenly found herself feeling a bit nervous. “Coffee?”
“Please.”
“So, are you just passing through Cricket Creek and happened to stop down here by the marina?” Mattie asked while pouring strong coffee into a sturdy mug. She was usually a bit on the quiet side, but when hit with a fit of nerves, Mattie tended to chatter.
He reached for a little plastic tub of cream from the dish she’d put in front of him. “No. Actually I just bought the A-frame cabin right next door.”
“You did?” From his blue polo shirt to his fancy shoes, he didn’t seem the type to settle down in Cricket Creek, but then again, the little town had had quite a few unexpected people move there over the past few years. “Wow.” Wait. There really was something familiar about him. Where had she seen him before?
“I’m sorry. I neglected to introduce myself. I’m Garret Ruleman.”
“Oh!” Mattie nearly dropped the menu she’d been about to hand to him. She had seen him, all right—on the cover of tabloids at the check-out line at the grocery story. “You are?”
“Last time I looked at my license,” he said while pouring cream into his coffee.
Feeling a bit silly because of her question, Mattie decided to add a little sass. “Maybe you should check just to be sure.”
“All right, then, I’ll have a look.” He reached around for his wallet, then flipped it open. “Yes, I’m still Garret Ruleman. Damn the luck,” he added with an arch of an eyebrow and a slight grin.
“So you moved to Cricket Creek to live near your father?” Rick Ruleman, famous rock star, owned My Way Records, which was located just a few miles away from the marina. It was well-known that Garret and his father shared a rocky relationship, and Mattie suddenly wished she’d kept her doggone mouth shut.
“No. Actually I’m back in town to rekindle my relationship with Addison Monroe.” He calmly took a sip of his coffee and peered at her over the rim of the mug.
Mattie couldn’t hold back her gasp. Garret and Addison’s broken engagement had been splashed all over the tabloids and was the reason Addison had ended up opening a bridal shop, of all things, in Cricket Creek. Garret looked familiar because she’d seen his face in print so many times—and usually not in a flattering situation. “Addison is, um, married to Reid Greenfield now,” Mattie informed him in a hesitant sta
ge whisper.
“You don’t say… . Well, bollocks, that throws a monkey wrench into my plans.” When his mouth twitched, Mattie knew he’d been messing with her. He took a sip of coffee and then added more cream. “This stuff is going to make my hair stand on end.”
“It’s already standing on end, but maybe that will offset the fact that your nose is going to grow from fibbing,” Mattie grumbled.
He reached up and touched his nose. “Oh, wouldn’t want that to happen. Actually, Addison and I have mended our fences, and I’ve met Reid. He’s a great chap, and Addison should thank her lucky stars that she dodged a bullet and dumped the likes of me.” His grin suggested that he was joking, but there was something in his eyes that made Mattie want to give his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “So, I had you going, did I?”
“That little deception wasn’t one bit funny.”
“I didn’t really think you’d fall for it. I was just goofing on you.”
“Goofing?”
“English slang for teasing.”
“Well, you’d think that I’d wise up, but I manage to fall for nearly everything.” I could fall for you zinged through her brain, but she chalked it up to the lack of coffee in her system. “I think I have tease me tattooed on my forehead.”
Narrowing his eyes, Garret peered at her forehead as if trying to see the tattoo. “Hmm, you do. Get that thing removed straightaway.”
“Good advice,” Mattie said, and then topped off his coffee.
“Actually, I’m a studio musician and a talent scout for My Way Records.” Garret took a sip of the steaming brew. “But yes, it’s good to live near my father,” he added, but Mattie thought his smile appeared forced, and he started studying the menu as if there would be a pop quiz afterward.
“Do you have any questions about the menu?”
“I do, in fact.” Garret looked up at her. “What in the world is redeye gravy?”
“Gravy made with coffee and the drippings from fried county ham.” She sighed. “But, unfortunately, I can’t offer redeye gravy or country ham on biscuits.”
“Ah … right, since the ham ran away with the dish and the spoon?”