Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

DUSTY

Nova faced me slowly, a tight smile on her mouth. She was the classical type of beautiful, one that didn’t need makeup and neat clothes to stand out. She was rumpled, in skinny jeans and a crew neck and not an ounce of makeup, but still wildly distracting, making me second-guess my objective in approaching her.

Why had I come to the counter again? I knew it had to do with the diner, and not the fact that I wanted to speak to Nova.

Especially with Gracie Mae watching. I wasn’t that much of a jerk.

“Where is Gigi?” I finally asked, remembering my goal.

“Do you need something? I can get it for you.”

“Just her.”

Nova narrowed her brown eyes slightly. “Food? More coffee? The check?”

“I want to discuss a fundraiser with her.”

“Oh.” She looked over her shoulder.

The door pushed open and Lacey came through, blowing a bubble with her gum and popping it in her mouth. The girl was barely out of high school, but somehow not intimidated enough by Gigi to refrain from unprofessional gum smacking. Young people were a different breed. Or maybe I was becoming an old curmudgeon and would soon be telling my little footballers how things were done back in my day.

“Where’s Gigi?” Nova asked.

“On the phone.” Lacey walked past both of us and started fiddling with the register. I glanced at the photo on the side of the register and recognized a younger Nova with her arm around Gigi beside a Christmas tree. The picture next to it was of her two kids on a merry-go-round, Nova standing between their plastic horses.

Nova’s eyes slid back to me. “If you want to leave her a message, I’ll be sure she gets it.”

That was one possibility. The other was hanging around until Gigi returned. My head was spinning with all the wedding talk. Colors and food and where to find enough chairs and who would host the bridal shower and so many things that had nothing to do with me. As the best man, it was my job to throw a memorable bachelor party and make a speech, but the rest of it was up to the ladies. Of course, I’d lend my muscle to help in whatever capacity they needed, but that wasn’t the same as choosing themes and deciding between peonies and lilies. I still didn’t fully understand why I had to be here.

“Just pretend to talk to me for a second.”

Nova’s eyes narrowed further. “Is this a backward attempt at flirting? I’m not interested in reenacting a 90s romcom scene where the guy pretends to use the girl as a cover instead of just saying what he actually wants to say.”

There went the final tendril of any belief I might stand a chance with this woman. Not that I wanted to ask her out; she’d just moved here and she had kids, two major things I didn’t mess with. The first because she’d recently upended her entire life, the second because it wasn’t cool to mess with a mom. She didn’t only have herself to worry about. I wasn’t in the market to break three hearts when it inevitably didn’t work out.

Swallowing my frustration, I met her gaze with equal zeal. “I’m not looking for a woman, Nova, so you don’t need to keep throwing your guard up. Can’t a fella just talk to a lady without everyone assuming he wants to get with her?”

Her cheeks went pink, but she didn’t back down. “Pretty sure your signals haven’t been entirely innocent.”

“My signals?” I asked her, planting my hands on the counter that ran between us. “I’ve been nothing but friendly. Welcoming. Good. Neighborly.”

She held my eyes for a beat, hers unblinking. “That’s fair.”

It took great effort not to reveal my surprise. I half-expected her to dig her heels in and insist that when I checked her out in the market, it was anything but friendly. She wouldn’t have been wrong.

In my defense, I was a teaser by nature. Teasing didn’t have to mean flirting.

“My focus in life is two-fold at present: disregarding women and acquiring currency.” Which was true, in a sense. I didn’t want a girlfriend just to have a girlfriend. I’d rather save my money, invest, and prepare for the future so I’ll be ready when the right woman walks into my life.

“It’s been a while since I was single,” she said quietly, likely hoping not to be overheard by the hovering Lacey. “Sorry for jumping to the wrong conclusions. I can send Gigi to chat with you when she’s off the phone.”

“And force me to return to the table? I can’t listen to the debate about butter yellow versus goldenrod for another minute or I’ll throw up.”

“That bad, huh?” She shook her head. “Gigi mentioned you guys are planning a wedding.”

“Best man, at your service,” I said, dipping my head in a little bow. “My best friend is marrying his high school sweetheart.”

The swinging door to the kitchen shoved open and Gigi came through, looking a little frazzled. Her white hair was a perfectly sprayed curly cotton ball, but her mouth was pinched in a frown. Maybe not the best time to ask for a donation. “Dal is ready for you,” she said to Nova.

“Dusty needs to speak with you about a fundraiser,” Nova said, then slid her gaze to me. “Goldenrod, all the way. Maybe with ivory flowers.”

I nodded once before she looked away and left. It took maximum willpower not to watch her walk from the room.

Gigi’s gaze was hard. “You leave her alone, Dusty Hayes. That girl doesn’t need you badgering her.”

I threw my hands up. “No badgering, Gigi. I swear.”

“You better mean it. I asked if you’d leave my niece alone when I found out she was coming, and you agreed. Don’t forget that.”

Wait, what? “When was this?” I asked, hazy on the particulars. I wasn’t really a drinker—I’d seen what it could do to people when I still lived with my parents—so I knew I had to have been fully aware during the conversation.

She wasn’t backing down. “When you and Tucker came here after the rodeo.”

Ah. It was ringing a bell. That was months ago, and I’d thought she was kidding. “Well, uh…I just want to chat with you about the fundraiser we’re putting on to send our boys to football camp this summer.”

Her face softened slightly. Bingo. “What do you need?”

“It’s a silent auction. Most of the boys on the JV and varsity teams can’t go to camp without assistance, and anything extra will help cover some of their uniform fees for the next school year. If you’d like to donate for the auction, we’d be grateful.”

“You’re thinking free meals?” she asked .

“We have no expectations, Gigi, we’re just grateful for anything you can donate. I can give you time to think about it. The auction won’t be until the end of the month.”

She nodded slowly before her gaze came back to me. “You promise to leave my girl alone?”

It was a little hurtful that she disliked the idea of me dating her niece so heartily, but I couldn’t really blame her. My reputation around this town hadn’t been that good until recent years. My grandfather’s influence had gone a long way in keeping me from following my parents’ terrible examples, but it had been a rocky road from high school to the man I was today.

I’d been an upstanding citizen for some time. Some people just had long memories, and Gigi was apparently one of them.

“I’m not looking for a relationship,” I told her, though it was really none of her business. “Nova has nothing to worry about from me. Trust me.”

“Okay.” She looked skeptical. “Put me down for a meal pass. Whoever wins the auction can eat here once a day for a month without paying.”

I hesitated. “That’s a lot of food. Want to make it a week?”

“I want it to be so enticing that someone pays a lot of money, Dusty. We can stand it. Don’t you worry about us.”

“Thank you, Gigi. I’ll verify with you before printing the auction sheets, so don’t feel like you can’t change your mind.”

“I won’t change my mind, young man. Now you better return to your table. Gracie Mae is going to break her neck watching for you.”

My eyes fell closed for a moment. When I opened them again, Gigi was looking at me with suspicion.

“What’s wrong with the Gable girl?” she asked.

“Nothing,” I said honestly. “I told you. I don’t want a relationship. I’m not looking for a woman.”

Gigi’s eyes shifted to my table of friends before falling on me again, and I had the impression I’d just made it possible for her to believe me. If I could reject someone as beautiful, smart, and kind as Gracie Mae, maybe I truly didn’t want to be with anyone right now.

Thank heavens for that. I didn’t need Gigi chasing me around with a broom, too. One old woman with a penchant for treating me like a punk kid was enough in this town, and Mrs. Jefferson at the market had that covered. Whether Gigi wanted to admit it or not, she didn’t force me into the box I’d created in my youth, not when she was willing to take me at my word. Or the box was translucent and a size bigger, because she was willing to believe I’d grown at least a little.

I dipped my head to her and returned to my table, but my brain snagged on the conversation.

“That took a while,” Gracie Mae prodded, her expression stiff.

“Gigi is donating a month’s worth of free meals for one lucky bidder.”

“That’s fantastic, man,” Tucker said, finishing off his drink. He looked at his watch. “We better run. We’re meeting Lauren at the inn next.”

Lauren was Tucker’s new sister-in-law, having married his brother Jack last month.

June slipped her hand around his arm. “I think she’s going to love my indecision. Maybe she’ll choose the color so I can stop going back and forth.”

“Goldenrod,” I said, repeating Nova’s idea. “With ivory.”

June looked up at me, her freckled nose wrinkling. “You don’t care about color, Dusty.”

“Nope, but I mentioned it to Gigi’s niece and that’s what she said she’d use.”

“Hmm.”

“Like a sunflower,” Tucker said.

June beamed up at him. “Why didn’t we think of that before?” Her eyes widened as the idea grew. “A whole theme with sunflowers. Goldenrod, green, ivory. Can you get sunflowers in June? You can, right?”

“That’s a question for Lauren,” Tucker said, getting out of the booth and taking June’s hand. “She knows everything about events. She’ll know this.”

“Let me know what I can do to help,” Gracie Mae said. “Dusty and I are at your disposal.”

I’d be annoyed with her, but she wasn’t wrong.

When we made it to our cars, all parked on Main Street, I waved at them and climbed in my truck before Gracie Mae could finagle anything more out of me. I had let that woman down so many times—gently and bluntly. I was shocked she kept trying. The direct way hadn’t gotten me anywhere, so lately I’d settled for whatever I could think of. Last time she asked me to go see a movie with her, I told her no because I had to go home and feed my cat. It wasn’t a lie, but it was also a thin excuse.

I hadn’t foreseen the way she would try to get me to invite her to my house instead.

This time, however, I had a valid reason to be on my way. I pulled my truck onto the road and started toward Beeler, the next town over, and the closest assisted living facilities we had. Grandpa had raised me. When his mental state had reached a point where he needed round-the-clock supervision, I’d had no choice but to put him in Pleasant Gardens Assisted Living. I tried to visit as often as my schedule permitted. One of the things I appreciated about our 48-hours on, 96-hours off schedule was having four solid days of no work so I could see him every day. Those two days I couldn’t get away from the station were tough. I tried to call in sometimes, but he didn’t understand where he was half the time, and not seeing me in person only made Grandpa more confused.

My parents had met and had me in their mid-twenties, but neither of them were fit to care for themselves, let alone a baby. We made it until my fourth birthday before Grandpa stepped in and offered to take me, which had been a blessing all around. My parents, no longer tied to a child, took off for a compound they’d heard great things about in North Carolina. We didn’t see them again for almost a decade. By then, I knew enough to understand I was better off in Grandpa’s clean house with running water than going off to live in a tent with two addicts.

That didn’t make it hurt less, especially when I was fourteen and they took off with my ceramic Darth Vader bank holding my entire savings. It had been a good chunk of money. I’d been squirreling cash away doing odd jobs around town the summer before ninth grade, and right before school started, it was gone.

I almost didn’t make the football team that year, and not because Grandpa had a hard time affording the fees. I’d been angry at being abandoned and stolen from, and I took it out on the school equipment with spray paint and a far more rebellious attitude than my grandpa allowed. It didn’t help that I’d been in and out of the principal’s office for fighting, either. It was the last straw, so the school wanted me expelled or, at the least, suspended and kicked off the team.

Henry Gable had stepped in. To this day, I had no idea what he said to change anyone’s mind. He vouched for me, and I worked that entire football season as his assistant to make up for some of the damage. I owed him a lot.

Running a hand through my hair, I pulled into the Pleasant Gardens parking lot and found a spot. Grandpa would be finishing his morning walk now, if his schedule could be relied on. I signed in and let myself out back to find him, waving at Patty, Brody’s grandma, as I passed her in the hallway.

There Grandpa was, sitting on a wooden bench and checking his watch. When he looked up and saw me, he grinned. Lines wrinkled his face, but the twinkle in his blue eyes was familiar. He was fairly lucid today. “Ready, Dusty boy? I got us a brand-new puzzle. You’re going to love it.”

I helped him stand. “You know it. What’s the picture? ”

“Can’t tell you.” He pushed his walker as we made our way inside and toward the rec room at the end of the hall. A round table was waiting for us with a black reserved sign. I’d asked for this perk and offered to pay for it, but the nurses were happy to oblige so long as the table wasn’t needed for anything else. It made it possible for us to keep our puzzles up for days at a time, until we finished and moved on to the next one. Sometimes we’d show up and a new section would be added for us, but that never bothered me.

Grandpa reached over and slid the box toward me, brandishing it with pride. It was a 1000-piece puzzle of cats lined up in western wear, complete with cowboy hats.

“This looks like a doozy,” I said, noticing the use of repeat colors. Some puzzle makers were such tricksters.

Grandpa sat down with a sigh. “We can handle it, son.”

I had to agree.