The Plan: A Sweet and Sexy Rock Star Romantic Comedy (The Creek Water Series Book 3)

by Whitney Dineen

  Today is Maggie’s beading class and tutoring session with Mrs. P. While I don’t really expect her to show up for them, I’m really sad when she doesn’t.

  Mrs. P leaves after lunch. I stay moderately busy during the afternoon, but even so, I feel a weight the likes of which makes walking short distances feel like I’m slogging through miles of mud. On my way to boil water for my four o’clock cup of tea, I hear the bell ring over the door.

  I briefly think it might be Emmie. I told her everything that’s going on and she said she’d check on me today. But it’s not my cousin. It’s Huck and Maggie.

  Before I ask any questions, and I have several, I approach the Huck with great humility and more than a bit of contrition. “I’m so sorry,” I tell him quietly. “Something really big happened in my life after I saw you on Sunday and I wanted to share it with you. I went kind of crazy when I found out you’d left town again.”

  He looks at me like I’m a Chinese phone book and he’s trying to find a number. “Amelia, I think we need to talk about this privately, okay?”

  I nod my head in agreement. He continues, “But right now isn’t the time. We’re here to share some news of our own.”

  Before he can tell me more, Maggie runs over and gives me a giant hug. She hands over a yellow plastic bag with a big red apple on it. “I missed you. I brought you a souvenir.”

  “Should I open it now?” I ask.

  “Later. Dad’s news is more exciting than some stupid old gift I bought in Central Park.”

  Huck says, “Maggie and I came to Creek Water for a specific reason.”

  Curiosity prickles my skin like I fell into a bramble bush. “You said something about having business in the area.” I don’t believe that for a minute though because of what I overheard them say at the diner the morning I met Maggie for the first time.

  “You know how on the way to St. Louis Maggie told you that my birth mom had my adoption records sealed so I could never find her?” He continues, “Turns out money greases a lot of wheels.”

  “Your birth mom lives in Creek Water?” I ask disbelieving.

  “She does.”

  “Have you met her yet?” I want to know.

  “Twice,” he answers. “But she doesn’t know who I am.”

  Before he can say anything else, the bell rings over the front door. Shelby Wilcox, of all people, walks in. “Shelby, what are you doing here?” I ask. “I thought you were in New York with Lexi’s mom.”

  She gives me a brief hug before saying, “I was, but then my brother and niece came to visit me. I came back to Creek Water with them.”

  Brother? Shelby is an only child; she doesn’t have a brother. A wave of comprehension hits me and nearly knocks me off my feet. I look at Huck and Maggie and then back to Shelby. “Huck is my brother,” she says.

  The air immediately gets sucked out of me like Thor’s hammer has just returned to the atmosphere after being flung from a distant galaxy. It lands right on my chest. I look at Huck and demand, “Cootie Wilcox is your mama?”

  “Yes,” Huck affirms. “Maggie and I came here to confront her. But after meeting her at the club with you and your family, it seemed that doing so directly might not be the best idea. Lexi had already mentioned Shelby was staying in New York with her mother, so I decided to contact her.”

  Shelby takes over, “After we talked on the phone, it took me several days to agree to meet with Huck.” She smiles at him fondly. “It was a lot to take in.”

  “I bet.” I’m so shell-shocked by the news I have to lean against the counter to hold myself up. I tell Huck, “My mama is going to cry real tears when she hears this.”

  Shelby laughs out loud. “I know, right?”

  “What do you think yours is going to make of Huck being here?” I ask her.

  She shrugs. “I have no clue. I never knew she’d had another child, and according to the math, she must have had Huck the summer after she graduated from high school.”

  “So, your daddy isn’t his daddy,” I say.

  She shakes her head. The air is so thick with this news you could cut it with a spoon. To break some of the tension, I force myself to smile brightly at Maggie and say, “You have another auntie!”

  Maggie claps her hands together excitedly before rushing over to hug Shelby. “I know it! Isn’t it wonderful?” She looks so happy it makes my heart melt.

  “It is,” I tell her. Then I tell Shelby, “You have yourself the sweetest niece on the whole planet. You’re just gonna love her.”

  “I already do,” Shelby confirms, holding Maggie close.

  “Cootie Wilcox is a grandmama,” I say her name much like I’d say Adolph Hitler or Saddam Hussein. I ask no one in particular, “How can that be? You can’t spit on the sidewalk without everyone in town finding out about it. How could Cootie have given birth without it being the gossip of the decade?”

  “I was born in a hospital in Tennessee,” Huck says. “That’s were Maggie and I went the first time we left town.” Relief floods my system to know that he didn’t run off to meet a woman.

  Shelby says, “You could walk to Tennessee from here.”

  “I need to set up a meeting with Cootie,” Huck tells me.

  “I’m sure Shelby can arrange that.”

  “I don’t think that’s gonna be the best way to break the news to Mama,” Shelby says. “She’s already so mad at me for leaving, she’s threatened to disown me. I think it’s best if maybe you schedule an appointment to meet with her and have Huck and Maggie with you.”

  “What excuse could I possible give for scheduling an appointment with Cootie?”

  “Maybe you can say that you need her advice on Emmie’s wedding shower or something,” she tentatively suggests.

  “I’d just ask Mama or Aunt Gracie if that were the case. Your mama’s never going to believe that I want her advice on anything.”

  “Tell her your family is too busy planning the wedding and that you need the guidance of a professional. Trust me, my mama will eat it up that you’re coming to her. She lives to get one over on the Frothinghams.”

  That’s actually true. “I can try.”

  Shelby smiles before announcing, “I could use a giant ice cream cone. Anyone here want to join me?”

  Maggie jumps up and down excitedly. “I do!”

  Shelby takes her niece’s hand. “Good. We’ll be off then. Where should I deliver this little lady after we eat our body weight in Frantic Fudge?”

  “Would you mind taking her back to Lexi’s?” Huck asks. “I’ll meet you there.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Shelby says. “We’ll see you when we see you, then.” I watch as they walk out the door. I’m guessing the ice cream was just a ruse to leave me alone with Huck.

  He looks as serious as a heart attack when he says, “Amelia, we need to talk.”

  Chapter 43

  “Huck, I’m so sorry for how crazy I acted on the phone.”

  “And?” he prompts like I’m forgetting something.

  “I’m just really, really, sorry,” I say again as sincerely as possible as a feeling of nausea grips me.

  “You don’t have anything else to tell me?”

  “I have tons to tell you!” I announce.

  “I’m sure you do. But there’s something I think needs to be said before you tell me why you acted like you did.”

  Oh, boy. I thought I knew what dread felt like, but my previous encounters with the emotion pale in comparison to what I’m experiencing now.

  My stomach is suddenly so weighted down, I feel like I’ve just swallowed a cannonball. “What do we need to say?” I ask, not at all wanting to hear his answer.

  He reaches out and places his hands on either side of my arms before staring at me like he’s trying to perform a Vulcan-style mind meld on me. Chills of fear or lust or both cover my skin. “I need to say that I’ve missed you very much and I’m happy to see you again.”

  Wait, what? The smile that overtakes
his face gives credence to the fact that he really means it. “That’s what you wanted to say?” I demand.

  “Yup.” I throw myself at him so quickly he nearly falls over.

  “I missed you so much, too. I mean, I really, really, missed you and I have so much to tell you I don’t even know where to begin.” The words pour out of my mouth like the little Dutch boy just pulled his finger out of the dike.

  He leans down and suggests, “What do say we don’t talk for a while?” Then he kisses me like there’s nothing on this earth he’d rather do. Which is good because there’s nothing I’d rather do. His breath mingles with my own; his mouth devours mine like it’s his sole purpose for living. Huck Wiley shares himself with me with such intensity you’d think he was bestowing the gift of life. What’s happening goes beyond physical lust—it’s a spiritual connection.

  My heart hammers in my chest as he feeds our kiss like it’s the most important thing in the world to him. We’re so wrapped up in each other, we’re one being. My heart beats so loudly I can feel the blood pumping through me, nourishing my desire for more.

  I finally pull away and rush to the front door to lock it. Then I turn the Open sign over to Closed before grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the back steps that lead to my apartment.

  Once we’re upstairs, I throw open the front door. Huck says, “Are you ready to talk about why you were so upset with me?”

  “I guess.”

  Once we’re settled on the couch, I let loose. I tell him everything from the source of my anxiety to my recent breakthrough. I tell him that I’m tired of living my life in fear and that I want to get strong enough to take chances. I tell him that I’ve spent hours thinking about what he said to me the day he told me he wanted to date me. It’s not what you have to lose, Amelia. It’s what you have to gain.

  He holds me tight and says, “I’m so sorry that ever happened to you.” Then he leans his head against mine. “Thank God you weren’t harmed. Thank. God.” I swear I feel his shoulders shake like he’s physically feeling the impact of what occurred all those years ago.

  “I want to live my life, Huck. I want to experience things that I never thought I could.” Then I warn, “But I’m not going to be able to do everything right away.”

  “Amelia,” I love the way my name sounds when he says it—like a plea, a prayer. “Just knowing you want more is what’s going to give you the strength to have everything your heart desires. I’ll help you in any way that I can. I’ll try not to expect too much, too soon, but I am going to push you. Gently.”

  “I know,” I tell him. “I need you to do that, but I also need you to understand that I don’t have the same reservoir of experiences that you do.”

  He pulls me so close I’m nearly sitting on his lap. “We can do this together, you, me, and Maggie. Together we’ll work to help both of my girls. What do you say to that?”

  Both of his girls. Raw emotion consumes me and my voice cracks as I answer, “I would like that more than you could ever know.”

  Huck kisses me again, but this time makes his earlier efforts seem chaste. The second his lips touch mine the heat consumes me like been I’ve doused in gasoline before walking by a bonfire.

  I know Huck’s not playing me just to get in me into bed, but that’s definitely where things are headed if I don’t find the superhuman effort to pull back.

  “Huck,” I groan. “I don’t want to rush things between us physically. I need to know this is real and that you’re really invested here.” The hurt look on his face has me adding, “You’ve been with a lot of women and I need more time before I become one of them.”

  “You’ll never be just another woman, Amelia. You mean too much to me. I need you,” he confesses with real emotion.

  “I need you too, Huck. But I also need more time.”

  I worry that no one has ever said no to him before and that he’s not going to respond well, but he surprises me. “You take whatever time you need. I’ll be right here waiting.”

  Relief floods my senses. Huck and I are something new in each other’s lives and we need to treat our relationship with the care and attention it deserves.

  Instead of making out on my couch like a couple of teenagers, we sit and hold each other, letting our spirits fuse with the knowledge that we’re on the same page. I inhale the intoxicating scent of Huck Wiley, and his bubble bath, and feel more content than I’ve ever felt in my life.

  Chapter 44

  Huck and I head over to Lexi’s at five thirty. My brother’s girlfriend has gone next door to have dinner with him, leaving Shelby and Maggie alone. They’re playing a card game in the parlor.

  I suggest, “Y’all want to head over to Shuckie’s for supper?”

  Shelby lets out a loud yawn. “I’m whooped. Would you mind bringing dinner back for me?”

  “Are you staying here?” I ask, surprised. I thought she might be staying with her folks.

  “I didn’t leave home on very good terms, so I can’t imagine being welcomed back. Plus, I want to give Huck his space with Mama before she feels like we’re ganging up on her.”

  “We’re happy to bring supper back for you,” Huck tells her. “You still have room after eating ice cream?” he asks his daughter.

  “You bet I do.” She grabs her shoes to put them on.

  “See you when we get back. We shouldn’t be too long,” I tell Shelby.

  “Wake me up if I’m sleeping. I’ve missed Shuckie’s food something fierce.”

  Once we get to the restaurant, we’re greeted by a new waitress. “Hey there, I’m Ashley. Go ahead and sit wherever you want. I’ll be over in a minute to get your drink order.”

  “Thanks,” I tell her. I don’t remember seeing her before, so Shuckie must be gearing up for his busy season by bringing on extra staff.

  Maggie picks a table that overlooks the pier before excitedly saying, “It smells yummy in here.”

  “Why don’t we grab a couple of samplers so y’all can try everything Shuckie has?” I suggest.

  “Isn’t this the food you brought to Lexi’s house?” Huck asks.

  “Yes, sir. Did you ever try the banana pudding?” I wink at him.

  He grins mischievously. “I did, after you abandoned me.”

  “Is that how you remember it?” Heat rushes straight to my face, which I imagine is resulting in a raging blush. That was the night Huck propositioned me to not live like a nun while he wasn’t living like a monk.

  Over dinner, he tells me a little bit about his childhood. He talks of surfing with his friends at a place called Point Dume in Malibu and hanging out on the Santa Monica Pier during the summer.

  “Sounds like an idyllic childhood,” I tell him. “But still nowhere as good as mine.” You know, if you don’t factor in what happened in Atlanta.

  “Oh yeah?” He takes the bait. “What was so great about growing up in Creek Water, Missouri?”

  “Aside from the frogging,” Maggie grimaces as I say this, “there was pig wrestling at the Founders’ Day picnic.”

  “You’re joking,” Huck deadpans.

  “Why on earth would I pull your leg about something as serious as wrestling a greased pig?”

  “It was greased?” Maggie shouts. “With what?”

  “Vegetable shortening,” I tell her. “Anyone can wrestle a clean pig, but a greased one is another matter entirely. It’s an art form.” Then I brag, “I should know, I won the fastest time the summer I turned eleven. I still have the blue ribbon if y’all want to see it sometime.”

  Huck lets out a loud laugh. “I don’t need to see the ribbon. I need to see the event in person. When’s the next picnic?”

  “I’m not going to wrestle a pig now,” I tell him primly. “That’s a contest for kids.”

  Maggie interrupts, “Don’t look at me, Dad. I’m no pig wrestler.”

  “You chicken?” I tease her.

  “Definitely,” she answers.

  “I guess I’ll just have
to show your daddy the picture of me and Hamlet so he believes me.”

  “Hamlet the pig?” Huck laughs.

  “We’re a very cultured little town,” I tell him.

  “I don’t think they were thinking about Shakespeare when they named him,” he says. I’d never considered the alternative, but he might just be right. Poor piggie.

  Once our dinner arrives and Maggie tries the hushpuppies, she asks, “Can we order more of these?”

  “You betcha,” I tell her. I call our waitress over and order another batch, knowing full well there won’t be any left.

  Maggie asks, “When’s the Founders’ Day picnic, anyway?”

  “It’s usually right after Memorial Day, why?”

  Looking at her daddy, she asks, “Can we go before we leave for France?”

  “You would rather go to a picnic in Creek Water, Missouri than spend extra time in France?” he asks disbelievingly.

  “Creek Water isn’t on the other side of the ocean,” she tells him. “Plus, Amelia is here.”

  “That she is.” He smiles at me in such a way that causes intense fluttering in my extremities. Huck suggests, “Why don’t we ask Amelia to join us in France?”

  Maggie shouts, “Please come, Amelia! I would be way more excited if you were with us.”

  I wait for the expected pressure to start to build in my chest and it doesn’t disappoint. “I’m not sure I can do that, honey. I haven’t been on an airplane yet.” Then I look at Huck and plead with my eyes for him to intervene.

  “I think we need to start Amelia out a little slower and grow her sense of adventure.”

  “How?” his daughter demands.

  “Your uncle Gizzy left me a message that he’s performing in Chicago next week and he wants us to go see him. In fact,” he adds, “he wants me to play with him. What do you say about that, ladies? Should we go to Chicago together?”

  “Gizzy Jacobs from Swampback?” I demand.

  “He’s dad’s best friend,” Maggie says proudly. “He’s also my godfather.”