Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Brooks looked up at me from where he was slipping on his second shoe. “Of course. At the very least, I hope you’ll save a dance for me tonight.”
Oh. Well. Melt me into a puddle of goo and pour me into a Brooks-shaped mold. “Yeah. Good. I’d like that. Mm-hm.”
Brooks got a twinkle in his eye at my feigned nonchalance. He winked at me. “And if I see you dance with Diesel, I will not be responsible for my actions.”
I found my own shoes and slipped them on before following him to the front door. “If those actions are the good kind of actions, maybe it would be worth it. I’ve always fantasized about the jock and the bad, bad boy duking it out over me at the school dance.”
Brooks barked out a laugh before turning to lock the cabin behind us. “I’ll see what I can do.”
The feeling of strange giddiness stayed with me all through the ride back to town when Brooks didn’t let go of my hand, and halfway through breakfast at the Iveys’ house where Ava seemed to be enjoying her own happy secrets. Mr. and Mrs. Ivey were discussing the Susie Dupree scandal which was apparently the most horrific story to hit the Thicket since TJ Calhoun and Bette Lander were caught loading the bingo cage with extra balls at the VFW.
“Brad, I just don’t know about Partridge Pit…” Mrs. Ivey said, wringing her hands in front of her yellow apron.
“Monette, darlin’, it’ll be fine. I ate at the Pit in Nashville, and their meat damned near fell off the bone. I didn’t want to say anything since everyone here is such a Susie devotee, but I actually—”
“Hush your mouth,” Mrs. Ivey hissed.
I coughed to hide my surprised laughter. Ava’s eyes twinkled across the table at me. “Don’t mess with a Southerner’s barbecue, Mal,” she said calmly. “It can impact your marriage.”
“Ava Marie,” Mrs. Ivey chided. “Mind your business.”
“Good thing I’m not getting married anytime soon, then,” I teased. Mrs. Ivey sucked in a breath and clutched the front of her apron.
“Well, sometimes Malachi, dear, concessions need to be made. It might not be what we’d prefer, it might not be the person we’d hoped and dreamed of, but circumstances being what they are…” Her voice trailed off.
Ava and I stared at her.
“Marriage can give a person some much-needed stability,” she continued. “And should be considered seriously in times when… a person might need that kind of… stability.”
“Mother, I think love is more important than stability,” Ava snapped.
I took a steadying breath, wondering if Ava’s mom was suggesting anyone would be better than me. “You’re right, Mrs. Ivey. It should be considered seriously. For instance, you should seriously consider more than a person’s looks, their popularity, and their family. Make sure you’re not with a person just because it makes everyone else happy instead of you,” I added pointedly.
Ava relaxed and nodded, shooting me a small smile. “Exactly. Make sure it’s someone who will do anything to make you happy. Who makes you their top priority.”
She settled back into her daydreams of Paul while I thought back to the effort Brooks had gone to the night before to make our time more special than another stolen moment under the bleachers or in the barn. I remembered the way he’d traced lazy fingers across my skin and raked his teeth down my neck. The way he’d looked at me with tenderness and told me I was special. It made me drunk with possibility.
Was there even a future possible with someone like Brooks? And what would that look like?
“You two best be on your way if you want to get a decent parking spot,” Mrs. Ivey said after we finished eating and cleared our dishes to the sink. There was still an hour to go before the parade, but since Ava was riding in it, she had to be there early.
“Come on,” she said with a sigh. “If I have to squeeze into my cheerleading uniform, you have to at least wear a Licking Thicket shirt and represent.”
I pictured a giant cartoon cow on the front with “Fighting Bovines” written over the top in obnoxious script, but when Ava set out the stack of shirts to choose from, one of them said “Licking Thicket Good” where all but the letters L-I-C-K-I and T were deliberately faded out to make it look like it said “Lick It Good.”
I grabbed it and put it on before tossing my other shirt over my shoulder to leave in Ava’s car in case I sweated my way through the Thicket one. August in Tennessee was no joke, and I didn’t want to run into Brooks later smelling like an old locker room.
Ava’s mom sent us on our way with a small soft-sided cooler filled with cold drinks and snacks which made me force myself to let go of the resentment I’d felt toward her over breakfast. I couldn’t blame the woman for wanting a different match for her daughter, I just wished she’d spent more time getting to know me before declaring me unfit to be that match.