Sidecar Crush (Bootleg Springs Book 2)

by Claire Kingsley

  She smiled and winked, then tugged on her ear twice. Our signal. She’d done that for me back when we were kids, anytime the teacher made me get up in front of the class. I’d focused all my attention on her, forgetting anyone else was looking at me.

  I grinned back at her, doing the same thing now.

  “Hi,” I said, and the speaker cracked. I turned to the side and cleared my throat. “I’m Jameson Bodine of Bootleg Springs, West Virginia. I have to admit, speaking in public is not my biggest strength. I tend to prefer to stay behind the scenes and let my work speak for me.”

  I paused and glanced over at my sculpture. I hadn’t planned to say much, but I looked back at Leah Mae, and the words poured out.

  “I’d planned to make something different. But after seeing something on TV, this image came into my head. It was a woman. Someone I used to know. And she’d always been happy and smiling with a light in her eyes like summer sun glinting off the still waters of a mountain lake. But this time, when I saw her, the light was gone. And I couldn’t stop thinking about how she looked like an angel to me. But not an angel who was free to fly. Like a caged animal in an old-fashioned circus, being made to do tricks.

  “So, I took a chance and followed my vision. I’d never created anything quite like her before, and truth be told, I wasn’t sure I was capable. But I guess when a man is as inspired as I was, there’s not much that can keep him from seeing it through. In any case, I’m glad y’all like it. It means the world to me.”

  Stepping back, I nodded, and the crowd erupted with applause. But I hardly noticed they were there. All I could see was Leah Mae. Her wide smile. Her eyes shining with tears.

  Mr. Davis shook my hand again and stepped up to the microphone. I wasn’t too sure what else was said. A few more words, a few more people to thank. Then we stood for photos, and after what seemed like an eternity in the fires of hell, I was finally free.

  Leah Mae waited near the sculpture, her head upturned. She looked toward me as I approached her. I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do. Run up and scoop her into my arms? Kiss her? Walk slowly so I didn’t scare her off?

  “Hi,” she said.

  “I didn’t think you’d be here.”

  She tucked her hair behind her ear and nibbled on her bottom lip. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted me.”

  “Oh darlin’.” I stepped closer. “I want you more than anything in this world.”

  I stopped thinking about what I was supposed to do—how to do this right—and grabbed her, pulling her against me. She melted in my arms, her body soft. I kissed her hair and breathed her in—held her tight.

  “Baby, I’m sorry,” I said, my voice quiet in her ear. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Me too.” She pulled back so she could look me in the eyes. “I’m sorry for how I acted in L.A. And I need you to know, nothing happened with me and Brock. I promise.”

  “I know.” I caressed her cheek. “I’m sorry I doubted you.”

  “It’s okay,” she said. “It wasn’t fair of me to assume you’d know the truth when I didn’t tell you.”

  “I still shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

  She let her nose rub gently against mine. “I guess… sometimes we let go with the person we love the most because we know they’re safe. We know they’re going to love us anyway.”

  “I reckon you’re right about that,” I said. “I don’t want to live that way, though.”

  “We won’t,” she said, her lips drawing closer to mine. “All we can do is our best. And when things are hard, we work it out.”

  “You make it sound awfully easy.”

  “Simple, but not easy,” she said. “But you’re a good man, Jameson Bodine. One of the best I’ve ever known.”

  “I love you like crazy, Leah Mae Larkin.”

  “Just tell me I’m still your girl.”

  I cupped her cheek and looked into her bright green eyes. “You’re still my girl.”

  Our lips came together and I nearly shuddered with relief. Without a care for who was watching, I kissed my girl. Kissed her until we were both breathless and had to come up for air. Then I kissed her some more.

  She giggled as I kissed her sweet lips a few more times. Finally, I stepped back, just enough so we weren’t quite so obscene.

  Leah Mae looked up at my sculpture. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Of course.”

  “I feel silly even asking, but… is that me?”

  I smiled. She had known. That first time she’d visited my shop, I’d dismissed the look she’d had in her eyes—figured it hadn’t meant anything. But I’d seen it, and deep down, I’d known. We’d both known this was her.

  “She is.”

  She touched her fingers to her lips and her eyes glistened. “You added more since I last saw her.”

  I nodded. “Pulled an all-nighter to finish.”

  “But… whose hands are they?”

  I’d crafted two hands reaching up, as if from below—hands intent on rescuing her. One gripped a bar, like he was hoisting himself up. The other held a key.

  “I reckon they’re mine.”

  A tear trailed down her cheek and I swiped it away with my thumb.

  “You did set me free,” she said. “You, and Bootleg Springs.”

  “Bootleg has a way of doing that,” I said. “I guess it has the right sort of magic.”

  “It most certainly does. And so do you.”

  35

  Leah Mae

  The smells coming out of the kitchen in the Brunch Club made my tummy rumble. We were here for brunch and booze, as one does when they go to the Brunch Club, and I was starving.

  Jameson sat next to me, his hand on my thigh. The way he kept sneaking his fingers beneath the hem of my skirt was making me tingle—in all the best ways. He leaned in and kissed my cheek—sweet, and appropriate for public display. What he kept trying to do beneath the table was anything but.

  I loved it.

  As soon as we’d returned from Charlotte, requests for Jameson’s work had poured in. He was booked up solid for the next year, and had actually had to turn down several commissions, simply because he didn’t have time. Being able to pick and choose what he wanted to work on was a dream come true for him. He was living his dream, and I was so proud.

  Scarlett and Devlin sat across from us, engaged in their usual PDA. It didn’t seem to bother Jameson, even though I knew he still felt protective of his sister. I figured he was too busy teasing me under the table, enjoying how it made me squirm.

  Bowie, on the other hand, kept rolling his eyes and telling Scarlett and Dev to knock it off, already. That only made Scarlett giggle. Bowie even threatened them with detention, which made us all laugh.

  The waitress brought our first pitcher of sangria and I helped pour. Gibson walked in and nodded, but didn’t say much. Just pulled up a chair, turned it around, and straddled it backwards. Jameson tipped his chin to him and Gibson tipped his back. I was so relieved that the two of them were getting along again—even if getting along simply meant Gibson wasn’t glaring at Jameson all the time.

  I’d seen Gibson at the unveiling in Charlotte, but I kept up the pretense that I didn’t know he’d been there. I had a feeling there was a softer side under that hard exterior, but he wasn’t about to let anyone see it. As long as there were no more taco food fights, I figured things were probably all right.

  “Mornin’, y’all,” Cassidy said as she walked in. She was dressed in street clothes, rather than her deputy uniform, and her dirty blond hair was down. As always, her sister June was with her. June’s darker blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail. They both took off their coats and hung them on the backs of two chairs.

  “Mornin’, Cass,” Scarlett said. “And how are two of my favorite girls on this fine Saturday?”

  “Can’t complain,” Cassidy said.

  Scarlett’s lips curled in a mischievous grin. “Any plans tonight? Hot date, maybe?”

  I gla
nced at Bowie, but he kept his eyes on his sangria.

  “Nope,” Cassidy said. “Not unless you count a night at home in my pajamas watchin’ old movies a hot date.”

  “If it was with someone, I would,” Scarlett said.

  Cassidy just smiled and shook her head. “Men are impossible. No offense to those of the male persuasion at this table.”

  “None taken,” Devlin said.

  Gibson shrugged. “Nah, you’re right, we are.”

  “Least you’re honest,” Cassidy said.

  I caught June’s eye. “How’s your fantasy football team doing this year?”

  “I’m winning,” June said, her voice flat.

  “Good for you,” I said.

  “It shouldn’t come as a surprise to my competitors,” June said. “I win every year.”

  “That is a fact,” Jameson said. “And the reason none of us play in Juney’s league anymore.”

  June didn’t seem fazed by that. But June never seemed fazed by anything.

  Jonah came in, pocketing his phone. “Sorry about that. My mom called.”

  “How’s your mama doin’?” Scarlett asked.

  “She’s fine, I suppose.” Jonah took a seat and poured himself a drink.

  “You look like you need that,” Devlin said.

  Jonah took a long sip. “She’s just… unhappy with my life choices at the moment.”

  Devlin raised his glass. “I feel your pain, brother.”

  They clinked glasses.

  “I made the mistake of telling her I need to move out of Jameson’s place,” Jonah said. “She thinks I’m homeless or something.”

  Jameson had asked me to move in with him, and of course I’d said yes. I’d practically been living there already, but I was thrilled to make it official. We’d told Jonah he was welcome to stay—and really, I wouldn’t have minded a bit—but he’d decided it was time to find a new place to live.

  “You could move in with me,” Bowie said. “I have an extra room that’s not being used.”

  “You sure?” Jonah asked.

  “Yeah, why not?” Bowie said. “I have the space. Besides, I hear you’re a good cook.”

  Jonah laughed. “I hear that, too. All right, it’s a deal, then.”

  They shook hands to make it official.

  “How are the wedding plans coming, Leah Mae?” Scarlett asked.

  “It’s going to be so nice,” I said. My dad had asked Betsy Stirling to marry him and I was helping Betsy plan the wedding for next summer. “Simple, but sweet. Y’all are invited, so I hope you’ll come.”

  “Of course we will,” Scarlett said. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

  June had randomly put her finger on her nose. She had a magazine sitting out and she quietly thumbed through the pages, the index finger of her left hand sitting on the tip of her nose.

  “What’s that for, June Bug?” Jameson asked, tapping his own nose.

  “I’m not it,” she said.

  “Not it for what?” Jameson asked. “No one said anything.”

  “The pitcher of sangria is low, so I estimate the probability of our waitress asking if we want another in the next several minutes at ninety-seven percent. That will inevitably lead to a rush to decide who’s buying the next pitcher. I’m planning ahead.”

  Jameson laughed. “All right, then.”

  The waitress walked up and smiled. “Are y’all ready to order? Or can I get you another pitcher of sangria first?”

  “Not it,” June said without looking up.

  The rest of us touched our noses, a chorus of not it sounding around the table.

  “Damn it,” Devlin said. He’d been last. “All right, another pitcher. This one’s on me. I don’t know how you’re all so fast.”

  “Years of practice,” Scarlett said, patting his cheek.

  We all had a few drinks and ate an enormous breakfast. By the time we were finished, I was so full I thought I might burst. Jameson and I decided to take a stroll around town to walk off some of the food and sangria. He held my coat for me while I slipped my arms in, and put his hand on the small of my back as he led me outside.

  The October air was crisp, the warmth of summer long gone. Clouds hung low in the sky, but it was dry. Probably not cold enough to snow, but it wouldn’t be long and Bootleg Springs would be blanketed in white. I couldn’t wait.

  We walked down Bathtub Gin Alley to the corner of Lake Street and I stopped.

  “Something wrong?” Jameson asked.

  “No. I want to show you something.”

  I took his hand and led him down Lake Street to an empty storefront. It had once been a novelty shop, but the owners had closed it down some time ago, and it had been sitting ever since. I’d passed it a hundred times and an idea had been forming in my mind. I hadn’t told anyone yet, and just the thought of saying it out loud made my tummy tingle with nerves.

  We stopped in front of the store. It had a big for rent sign in the window.

  “I’ve been thinking,” I said and tucked my hair behind my ear. “Maybe this is crazy, and if it is, I want you to tell me the truth. But I think I want to open my own boutique. I could sell some of my own pieces, but also clothes and accessories from other designers that fit the style I’m going for. It would be totally unique, a mix of country and trendy fashion. I think it could be a big hit, especially during the tourist season.”

  Jameson glanced between me and the store a few times. “Leah Mae, this is genius.”

  I bit my bottom lip. “Really?”

  “Absolutely. I love this idea. You have a great sense of style. All the girls think so.”

  “I don’t know a lot about owning a business, but I could learn,” I said. “I’ve been looking into some online business classes to start.”

  Jameson smiled, making my heart squeeze. He cupped my face in his strong hands and kissed me. “I am so proud of you.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “I have to see if I have enough savings to get it started. I should be close.”

  “Well, if not, we should talk to June.”

  “June? Why?”

  “She’s something of an investor here in Bootleg,” he said. “She helped Lula open the spa, and gave Clarabell and Whit a loan to do some updates to Moonshine.”

  “That’s amazing,” I said. “You think she’d help me open my boutique?”

  “I reckon she would. We’ll need a solid business plan. Juney likes numbers. But she can even help with that. She’s great at it.”

  “Wow. How does she have money to invest in all these businesses?”

  He shrugged. “She works for a big company out of Annapolis. Smart as she is, I reckon she makes a good living. She likes to invest that money in small businesses, especially here in Bootleg. Even I worked with her a few years back.”

  “So I could really do this.” I reached out and touched the glass window. I’d been so afraid to say it out loud—afraid it would sound like a terrible idea.

  “Darlin’, not only can you do this, you will,” Jameson said. “I’ll have your back every step of the way.”

  He took me in his arms and kissed me again, deep and slow. The cool air tingled my skin but Jameson’s warmth spread through me.

  “I love you, Jameson Bodine.”

  “I love you, too. To the stars and back.”

  He put his arm around me and we stood in front of the store for a long moment. I could already see it. The sign out front. The window displays. I had a lot of work to do before I could open, but I could do it. I was building a future here, in Bootleg Springs, one step at a time. A future where I had a place. A home.

  Most importantly, a future with Jameson. And I couldn’t imagine anything better.

  Epilogue

  Jameson

  My angel was no doubt free from her cage.

  Leah Mae stood chatting with Cassidy over by the cake table. Her long lavender dress looked like a dream on her, showing all the lines of her willowy body. I’d been staring at her for
hours and trying to keep my hands in appropriate places. We were at a wedding, after all. But it wasn’t easy.

  The day had finally come for Clay Larkin and Betsy Stirling to get hitched. And they’d done so, on a warm July evening in true Bootleg Springs style. The ceremony had been here, at Gin Rickey Park, right out in the sunshine and fresh air. Afterward, they’d served moonshine and sweet tea in mason jars, along with a table full of food that could have fed an entire town—which was a good thing, because the entire town was here.

  Leah Mae drifted through the reception with a beautiful smile on her face. Her honey lemon skin glowed in the sun, her blond hair shining like spun gold. Those red lips were almost more than I could resist.

  What could I say. I loved my girl.

  She’d been working hard since the fall when we’d started putting plans for her boutique in motion. June had helped her work the numbers and had been thrilled to invest in her little venture. ‘Thrilled’ being a relative term. It was hard to tell with June Bug, but I was pretty sure she’d been excited. Leah Mae had spent her time taking business classes online and working out the details of her boutique—everything from the decor to the items she’d sell.

  Scarlett and my brothers had helped us renovate the store. Leah Mae had done the ordering, focusing on other small up-and-coming designers who fit her style. The whole place was fun and kinda funky— what Leah Mae called vogue with a country twist. She’d named it Boots & Lace. It suited her perfectly.

  Her mom and stepdad had come out to visit in the spring. I reckoned they hadn’t been too sure about Leah Mae settling down in Bootleg. But after seeing the store, and spending a few days with her, it seemed to have changed their minds.

  I’d been happy to meet them and sent them on back to Florida with a small sculpture I’d made. It was a rose made out of thin sheets of metal, meant to remind them of their daughter. Leah Mae’s mom had gotten a bit teary when I’d given it to them.