by Jiffy Kate
“And what a tragedy that would’ve been,” Deacon pipes up from the other side of the fire pit.
“Right?” Cami says, chiming in. “I mean, how on earth would you have survived, Dani?” She laughs as Deacon pulls her over onto his lap.
“Well, I love you all, but I’m pooped. How about a big breakfast in the morning?” my mama asks, standing up from her chair.
She’s answered with unanimous approval. Tucker even says he’ll be back out, but I’m guessing it’s for more than just breakfast.
“I’m hittin’ the hay, too,” my dad says. “Y’all be good. Make sure the fire is out before you turn in.”
“Ten-four,” I tell him, knowing I’ll probably be the last one here.
“I think I’m going to have to call it a night, too,” Cami says. “Carter is with my parents and it’s way past his bedtime.”
“Well, I rode with Cam, so I guess I’m out, too,” Tucker says, standing and stretching his arms above his head. I catch a glimpse of Piper checking him out. Maybe the feeling is mutual. “But,” he says, clapping his hands together, “I’ll be back bright and early for breakfast!”
“I’m gonna walk them around to the front and then head to the house,” Deacon adds. “I’ll see y’all in the mornin’.”
“I think I’m gonna go to bed,” Piper says. “It’s been a long day.” She stands up and hugs Dani, and just like that, Dani and I are alone.
“I had fun today. Thank you.” She’s leaning back against the chair and I reach up to brush a stray hair from her face.
“I’m glad you had a fun day. You needed it.”
“I could use a whole bunch of days like this.”
I smile, liking the sound of that. “Wanna take a walk?”
“Sure.”
I pour a bucket of water over the dying embers and take Dani’s hand into mine. This isn’t the first time I’ve held her hand, but it’s the first time I’ve done it and felt like there’s a real chance for more. I thread my fingers through hers, loving how they fit perfectly between mine, and we walk the short distance to the pond.
When we get there, we both sit on the edge of the dock and Dani slips her hand back into mine. “I like holding your hand,” she says quietly when she notices me looking at her.
“Is that permission to hold your hand anytime I want to?”
“Yeah, I guess so.” She twists her mouth into an adorable smile. I can’t help but think back to the first time we took a walk out here and how badly I just wanted to touch her, but I’m eternally grateful I didn’t. I’m sure I would’ve royally fucked up and we might not be sitting here now.
That whole patience talk from my mama is playing on a loop in the back of my mind.
“What about kissing you? Can I do that?” I ask, not wanting to take this a step further than she’s willing to go, but wanting it so bad, I had to ask. My stomach is in knots at the thought of her lips pressed against mine. I haven’t thought this much about a kiss since Cindy Maloney kissed me in the seventh grade. She was a ninth grader, and she kissed like a senior. I didn’t know what to expect, and after it was over, I definitely didn’t know what hit me. Pretty sure I barely remembered my name
Dani looks over at me, her smile falling. I’m afraid she’s going to tell me no, but she swallows hard and leans a little closer. When her tongue darts out and wets her lips, I lean even closer. “Is that a yes?” I ask, feeling nervous yet hopeful.
She doesn’t speak. She just nods her head, leaning until our lips are almost touching. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since the first day I met you, so you better make it good,” she whispers. I can’t help but smile before softly brushing my lips against hers. The movement is slow and gentle, but intense and heated—unlike any kiss I’ve ever experienced.
Reaching up, I place my hand on her jaw and pull her closer, deepening the kiss. She opens her mouth, inviting me in. She tastes so good and feels so right, I have to repeat my new mantra over and over in my head: slow.
Kissing a girl has never felt this good. I just found my new favorite pastime—kissing Sheridan Reed.
Sheridan
I’M AWAKE BEFORE THE SUN, lying in bed, letting my mind drift. My fingers go straight to my lips, brushing over them, remembering the kiss from last night. It was everything I dreamed it would be and more. There was a feeling that started in my head and went all the way down to my toes. It left me breathless, yet full of life—content, yet begging for more. I dreamed about it—his lips, his hand on my cheek, his breath on my skin—and more. So much more.
My alarm goes off way too early for my liking. I set it for six so I’ll have plenty of time to pack my things back up and spend some time on the internet working out my itinerary for the next week. I’m planning on taking a laid-back approach. I mean, when in Rome, right?
The deadline for the article is two weeks from today. If I can get all of the photographs taken in the next week, I figure it would give me another week to compile my notes and write the copy portion of the article. All I really need to do is decide how many miles I want to travel in one day and find places to stay along the way. I’ll probably just end up in roadside motels, so there aren’t any reservations to be made.
I roll over and look out the window as the sun begins to make its debut. It has me itching to grab my camera and join it. There’s nothing like watching a sunrise. It’s the fresh start to a brand new day—a chance to start over or try something new.
I slip my feet into my flip flops and grab my camera. Quietly, I tiptoe down the hall, stopping for a second in front of the room Piper slept in last night. Inching the door open, I see she’s still sleeping like a baby. Piper is a lot of things, but a morning person is not one of them. I close the door and continue my way downstairs.
Everything is so quiet. I’ve never been here when there aren’t delicious smells coming from the kitchen or boisterous laughs and conversation filling the house. I love that, but I also love this—the quiet stillness.
Twisting the lock on the back door, I open it and the soft sounds of birds chirping fill the air. A rooster crows in the distance, and the dew of the morning wets my feet as I walk. When I step into the clearing at the back of the house, closer to the pond, I’m greeted with a beautiful orange sky fading up into a soft pink. The sun hasn’t quite made it to the horizon, so I sit and watch . . . waiting patiently for the perfect moment.
I don’t even realize I have company until a soft, “Beautiful, huh?” comes from beside me. Annie’s hand brushes my hair back off my shoulder in such a tender, loving way. Something about the beauty of the moment makes tears come to my eyes. It’s such a motherly gesture, and I’ve missed having that in my life so much. I want to melt into her touch.
She leaves briefly, coming back out a few moments later with two cups of coffee. “This is where I start every morning,” she says, sitting next to me.
“I would too if I lived here.”
“Best show of the day, and that’s saying a lot around here.” She winks and smiles.
I breathe deeply into my cup of coffee, instantly feeling more alert. The sun peeks over the horizon, so I set the cup down and begin shooting, searching for the perfect angle and lighting.
“Sometimes you’ve just got to be patient and wait for it to come into focus,” I whisper, turning the lens. Holding my breath, I press the shutter button once . . . and then again. I adjust the light balance and press it again. “Someone once said life is like a camera. Just focus on what’s important and capture the good times, develop from the negatives, and if things don’t work out, take another shot.”
“Sounds like wise advice,” Annie says, wrapping both hands around her cup with a sly smile on her lips. I quickly turn the camera toward her before she swats her hand in the air toward me. “Not before I have my face on.” She laughs. Micah’s smile lights her face, and I suddenly miss him, even though I just saw him the night before. “Come on, sweet girl. Let’s go get breakfast started before everyone wake
s up.”
I like cooking with Micah and Deacon, but it’s nice having the kitchen to ourselves. Annie and I work side by side in perfect unison—beating eggs, frying bacon, kneading dough for my granny’s cathead biscuits. I also share my recipe for sausage gravy, which is similar to Annie’s. We tweak it, combining the two to make something new.
“Ahhh,” Piper says, yawning and stretching on her way into the kitchen. “Something smells good. Am I getting Granny’s gravy?” Her eyes light up, and I have to laugh. She looks like a kid in a candy store. “You have no idea how bad I’ve missed Granny’s gravy. Gah, there were mornings I would sit and daydream about it. I tried this gravy at this restaurant that serves breakfast down by my work, but it just wasn’t the same.”
“Well, I think it’s time someone learns the recipe. What do you think, Dani?” Annie asks, measuring out a cup of flour.
“Listen,” I say, holding up my hands. “I’ve tried to teach her. Your patience is better than mine, though, so feel free to give it a shot.”
Piper laughs. “I’m a horrible cook.”
“Oh, nonsense. Everyone can cook. It just takes a little patience, like anything good in life.” She winks at us. I continue with breakfast while Annie gives Piper a lesson in Gravy 101.
When the majority of breakfast is cooked and we’re finished setting the table, we pour fresh cups of coffee and sit at the bar. “Now, Piper,” Annie says, putting some cream and sugar into her coffee cup, “I’m gonna need a report when you get back home. You’ll have to let me know how the gravy makin’ goes. And next time you’re down, we’ll tackle biscuits.”
“Okay, I’m gonna do it,” Piper says with determination.
I love how Annie casually slips in “next time you’re down” like it’s a given. Once Annie Landry takes someone into her home—into her heart—you’re there forever. She’s everything a mother should be: accepting, loving, forgiving, caring. She knows just what to say to turn a bad day around. And she gives the best damn hugs. Well . . . second best.
“So, Dani, do you know where you’re going on your road trip?” Piper asks.
“Yeah. I need to look up a few more things, but I pretty much know where I’m headed. And if I get lost, I’ll just stop and ask for directions. I’m not in a big hurry.”
“Where are you starting?” Annie asks.
“Here. Well, at Pockets,” I tell her with a smile.
Annie nods. “Well, that’ll make a couple men happy.”
“Yeah. I mean, that’s pretty much where the idea came from, so of course I have to start there.”
“Man, those boys are gonna have some serious sucking up to do. You should start makin’ out your Christmas list now.”
We all laugh because Micah and Deacon are over the moon about their restaurant being featured in Southern Style.
“I have four stops in between and honestly, I could do more than one stop a day, but since I’m not really under a time constraint, I’m going to take my time. I’m even planning a side trip to Laurel. I want to go to my storage building and look for a few of my granny’s old recipe boxes. I thought they’d be good inspiration for the cookbook I’m working on.”
“Oh, Dani. That’s great,” Annie gushes, reaching over to grab my hand in hers. “I’m so happy you’re taking a little time for yourself. Stopping in your hometown is just what you need. I bet Granny will have some hidden gems in there just for you.” She smiles, and I nod, hoping she’s right. I really miss my granny, but more than anything, I just want to feel close to her again.
Sometimes going back to the beginning is what you have to do when you’ve lost your direction.
“I wish you could come with me,” I tell Piper. “One day isn’t enough time for us to catch up.”
“Gosh, I wish I could, too,” Piper whines. “It sucks having to work sometimes.” We all laugh, and Annie jumps up when the timer for the biscuits goes off.
“Time to ring the dinner bell,” she says, and for a second, I think she’s joking. “Go ring it, Dani. It’ll get them boys here faster than anything.”
“You mean that bell out back?”
“Of course. You didn’t think that was just there for decoration, did ya?”
I laugh. “Actually, yes, I did.”
“Well, maybe for some folks, but it comes in handy around here. Be careful. Jose and Johnny will be the first to show up. You better grab some leftovers from last night and put them on the back porch for them.”
I shake my head and do as she says. Grabbing two bowls out of the refrigerator, I walk out back, set the bowls down, reach up to the rope, and ring the bell. Sure enough, the two big Labs run up the gravel path as fast as their four legs can carry them. They come to a screeching halt at my feet, immediately digging into the bowls in front of them.
After ringing the “dinner” bell, I run upstairs to shower. Once I’m dressed for the day, I toss the few things I haven’t packed into my bag and look around the room for any lingering items. I’m planning on leaving right after breakfast. Piper has to leave to catch her flight and I need to get an early start. Even though I have my route mapped out, I don’t know exactly where I’m going, so I want to allow plenty of time for pit stops and scenic routes. I’m not looking forward to saying goodbye to Piper; telling her goodbye always sucks. But, at least this time I have plans to see her again in a couple of weeks. Without a job to go back to and no boyfriend waiting for me, I feel free to roam . . . free to figure things out and stretch my wings a little. I haven’t even bought a ticket for my return flight yet.
When I get downstairs, everyone is already gathered around the large table in the kitchen. The noise level is at an all-time high. Plates are being passed and people are reaching over each other to grab biscuits and bacon. It’s perfect. I wish I’d grabbed my camera.
But, there’s no Micah.
I glance through the big windows and see him walking up the gravel path. He has his boots on, an LSU t-shirt, shades down, and a large duffle bag thrown over his shoulder.
He’s perfection.
The sight of him reminds me of how he looked the day he took me around the plantation. I had to fight so hard to keep my mind in check, constantly reminding myself I was here on business and had a boyfriend.
But I’m not here on business now. And I sure as hell don’t have a boyfriend.
Those thoughts make me smile so big.
“Dani, come eat, honey. Once Micah gets in here, there won’t be anything left,” Sam says, sitting back in his chair with a newspaper and cup of coffee.
Micah walks in and sets his duffle bag down by the back door. He takes the sunglasses off and sticks them on the collar of his shirt. His eyes start at my face, slowly working their way down, causing tightness in my chest and heat to flood my body. When he makes it back up to my face, he smiles, and I have to wonder if he’s thinking about the kiss from last night. I know I sure am.
“Come fix you a plate, Micah,” Annie calls from the other end of the table.
“Were you gettin’ your beauty rest?” Tucker asks. “‘Cause damn, you need it!”
Micah shakes his head, laughing. He pushes Tucker practically out of his seat as he walks by and takes one of two empty seats at the table. I walk around and sit next to him.
“Good mornin’,” he says, leaning over and pushing a strand of hair behind my ear.
“Good morning.” My cheeks feel flush at his casual, yet intimate touch that no one else seems to notice but me.
“Coffee?” Piper asks, holding up a carafe.
“Uh, no. I think I’ll have some orange juice.” Anything to cool me down.
“What’s with the bag?” Deacon asks, pointing to the duffle by the door. “You planning on staying the week in Red Stick?”
“Red Stick?” I ask, not knowing where that is.
“Baton Rouge,” Micah says slowly. “Get it?”
“Um, no.” I shake my head, feeling like I’m missing out on something. “Should I?”
“Well, not unless you know French,” Annie says. “Baton Rouge means red stick in French.”
“Ahh, gotcha,” I say, nodding. “So, are you staying the week in Red Stick?” I ask, looking at Micah like I know what I’m talking about.
He laughs, shaking his head. “No, I thought I’d take a little road trip.”
I put my fork down and cover my mouth with my napkin, coughing into it as my eyes go wide with surprise. Did he say road trip?
“Road trip?” I ask.
“Yeah, I thought I’d tag along, give you some company.”
“Really?”
He nods. “Unless you don’t want me to.”
“No! No, I do.” I nod my head and smile behind my napkin, trying not to show him how much I want him to. It never occurred to me to ask him to go with me. I just assumed he had to work.
“Well, I think that sounds like a wonderful idea,” Annie says, clearing away a few plates from the table. “Don’t you, honey?” she asks Sam.
Sam smiles behind his newspaper before saying, “Sounds like a fantastic idea.” I watch him as he lowers the paper, making eye contact with me and then winking—just like Micah.
“I’m going to miss you,” Piper says, squeezing me tightly.
“I’m going to miss you, too,” I tell her, squeezing her back just as tight. “But at least we won’t have to wait as long to see each other this time.”
“Two weeks.”
“Yeah, two weeks. And then, hopefully, I’ll be able to visit more often.”
“Uh huh,” she says quietly, still holding on to me. “I’m thinking you’re going to have several reasons to come down here more often.”
“Stop.”
“Just sayin’,” she sings in my ear. “I love you.”
“I love you, too. Be careful.”
“Always.” She jumps in her rental car and waves out the window on her way down the drive. I look over to see Tucker standing on the front porch with a wistful look in his eyes. I’m going to have to remember to ask her about him when she calls later.