by Piper Rayne
“Sorry, I don’t think there’s anything in there.” I racked my brain, trying to remember the events of the past two days. I still had on the same clothes I’d worn on the flight here yesterday. But gum, yes, I’d had gum. “I think I have a gum wrapper in my pocket.”
She nodded. “Go ahead, please check.”
The guard on her left shifted his stance, like he’d be ready to tackle me if I pulled out anything but a crumpled wrapper.
Slowly, I slipped my fingers into the pocket at my hip and pulled out a balled-up piece of foil. “It’s just a gum wrapper.”
The woman nodded toward the trash can next to me. “Please dispose of it and we’ll try this again.”
The wand passed by with no further beeping, so she removed the corded barrier and allowed me to pass through.
My pulse whooshed through my ears at the close call. Now I just needed to find the dress and my purse.
“I think this belongs to you.” The good-looking guy who’d been behind me in line nodded toward the bin holding my purse. “They took the dress over there.”
I followed the direction of his gaze to see two men carrying the garment bag toward us.
“Thank you.” I snagged my purse and tugged it on over my shoulder. “I’m sorry you had to wait behind me.”
“Not a problem. Have a good flight.”
“You too.” A good flight? After what I’d just been through, a good flight might be too big of a wish. I just hoped nothing else would derail me before I got home and handed the precious dress over to my sister.
Chapter Two
Deacon
I stood at the counter, waiting for the gate agent to see if she could find me an upgrade to first class. Usually it went through automatically, but I’d booked this flight at the last minute. I didn’t have time to travel right now, but there was no way I could let down my cousins. The oldest two were closer than brothers and if I could ease the path they had ahead of them, I’d do it, even if it meant putting my life on hold for the next week or two to help sort shit out in Tennessee.
“I’m sorry, sir, we called your name, but you didn’t come forward, so we moved on to the next passenger. It looks like first class is checking in full. If something changes, I’ll be sure to let you know.” The gate agent offered an apologetic grin as she slid my boarding pass back across the counter.
Damn. No free drinks for me. They probably called my name while I was stuck in security behind the blushing bride. “Thanks for checking.”
“Next, please.” The gate agent motioned the person behind me in line to step forward.
Something brushed against my back. It was the giant white garment bag and the woman from the security line.
“I’m sorry.” Her cheeks flushed. Not quite as red as they did when she announced her choice of birth control to the entire security area, but still a deep shade of pink.
“Let me get out of your way.” I grabbed my bag and stepped to the side.
The woman’s arm shook as she held the garment bag over her head. What kind of dress did she have packed into that thing? Short sleeves showed off her well-toned arms so whatever was in there had to be pretty heavy. She was probably on her way to some destination wedding. But if she was on my flight, that meant she was headed to Nashville. Not my idea of the perfect place to say I do, but then again, I wasn’t really the type to utter those words anywhere.
With nothing to do until it was my turn to board, I let my gaze drift over her. Long, dark hair the color of rich mahogany framed her face. Tight jeans clung to her hips, accentuating her curves. She transferred the bag to her other hand, then that arm started to shake as well.
“Do you need some help with that?” I stepped to the counter again and slipped the bag from her hand.
She turned to me, her mouth tipping up at the corners, the smile reaching all the way to her light brown eyes. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” I held the bag by a finger, letting it hang over my shoulder. Damn thing had to weigh at least thirty pounds.
“I’m sorry, miss, that’s the best I can do. You’ll have to see if they can find a spot for your dress in the overhead compartment once you board.” The gate agent’s nails clicked on the keyboard in front of her. “There’s not an open seat on the plane.”
“But I have a ticket for the dress. A ticket should guarantee a seat.” The petite brunette couldn’t seem to catch a break today. I knew that feeling way too well.
“I’d be happy to remove you from the standby list if you’d like to wait for your original flight. Though, it looks like there’s a mechanical issue with the aircraft.”
“What kind of issue?” The woman put her palms on the counter and leaned toward the agent. A sliver of sun-kissed skin appeared between the waistband of her jeans and her sunshiny-yellow top.
“It’s supposed to depart at eleven twenty-five, but it’s been cancelled.”
“Cancelled?” Her fingers went to her temples. “But I need to get back in time for a wedding.”
Every cell in my body begged me not to intervene. But the look on her face, like someone had just stomped on her heart, made me clear my throat.
“Can I be of any assistance?” I asked.
She looked up at me, a mix of gratitude and something else I couldn’t quite identify in her eyes. “Unless you can find this dress a seat on the plane, I don’t think so.”
“Ms. Windsor, would you like the one seat available or should I give it to someone else?” the gate agent pressed.
“I guess I’ll have to take the seat and hold the dress in my lap the whole time. It can’t go in the overhead. It won’t fit.”
“If you want to share a row, I can slide my carry-on underneath the seat in front of me so you can have the whole overhead compartment,” I offered. Always a sucker for a damsel in distress, I’d just sentenced myself to spending the next four hours with absolutely zero leg room.
“Will that work?” The woman looked back at the agent. “Can you make sure we’re seated near each other, so there’s a chance of an empty space?”
“I’ll do better than that.” The agent click-clacked on her keyboard. “Here you go. I’ve got the two of you next to each other in the same row. Best of luck with your wedding.”
“Thank you.” She took the boarding pass the gate agent handed her and turned to me. “Thank you for the offer. I’m Tori, by the way. Want me to take that off your hands?”
“Deacon,” I said as I passed the dress back to her. “When’s your wedding?”
“Saturday. But it’s not my wedding.” Her chest rose and fell as she took in a deep breath.
I squinted at the garment bag she held above her head. “But that’s your dress?”
“Actually, it’s my sister’s.” A loud ring floated out of the bag at her hip. “Speak of the devil… if you’ll excuse me for a minute?”
“Of course.” I leaned against the wall, a little surprised at how pleased I was to find out she wasn’t the one getting married. It shouldn’t make a difference since we were complete strangers and would probably never see each other again. Suddenly the prospect of spending four hours in coach didn’t seem so bad, not if I’d be sharing a row with the curvy brunette.
Chapter Three
Tori
“Please take care of my dress. If someone spills on it, or God forbid, it gets ripped, I—”
“Nothing’s going to happen to your dress. I’ll guard it with my life.” The promise might seem extreme, but I needed Bailey to take it down a few dozen notches.
“Thanks, Tori. I can’t wait for it to get here. One more item to check off my list.”
“I’m happy to help.” I wasn’t just saying that, I meant it. Even if my arm felt like it might fall off since I’d been holding the dress over my head. Not only was it promising to be a full flight, but there wasn’t even an empty seat in the gate area. Nowhere to set down my heavy, hand-sewn, beaded burden.
“There’s just one more thing
I need you to do for me.” Bailey’s voice switched to the syrupy, sugary tone she always used when she was trying to sweet talk someone.
“What?” Dread gathered in my gut, swirling around with the bad cup of coffee I’d grabbed this morning.
“Your date.” Bailey let out a huff. “I told you we have to have an even number of people at the head table.”
I closed my eyes for a long beat. Hope that my sister would be too distracted by her upcoming nuptials to follow through on my lack of a plus one dissipated. “I’ll let you know who I’m bringing tomorrow.”
“Why don’t you let me fix you up with Sherman’s cousin? He seems like your type.”
I’d met Sherman’s cousin once, and the few minutes of conversation we’d shared had proven he definitely wasn’t my type. Not unless my lack of recent dates had catapulted me into some alternate universe where I ought to go gaga over a thirty-five-year-old guy who lived in his grandma’s basement and was still working on his undergrad degree.
“I’m not going to your wedding with Sherman’s cousin. I already asked someone and I’m just waiting for him to check his schedule.” The lie rolled off my tongue, smoother than a sip of Tennessee whiskey. It would buy me some time. And I did have someone in mind. The UPS driver had a friendly smile, and though we’d never exchanged more than pleasantries, I’d rather ask him than spend an evening listening to Sherman’s cousin talk about his hundred-gallon turtle tank.
“Fine, but I need a name by tomorrow or I’m putting you with Sherman’s cousin. The calligrapher has to finish the last few place cards.”
“Tomorrow,” I agreed. “I’ve got to go, we’re getting ready to board.”
We said goodbye, though I was sure it wouldn’t be for long. At least she wouldn’t be able to call me while the plane was in the air.
When I got to the row I’d be sharing with the tall, good-looking stranger, the overhead compartment was full. Why did people always take the bins at the front of the plane instead of waiting to get to their seats?
“Miss, you’ll need to stow that in an overhead bin.” One of the flight attendants pointed at the garment bag.
“I know. My seat is right here though, and I need it to stay close. Do you see any room?”
“Why don’t you hold on to it until everyone’s boarded? Then I’ll see if we have room in the closet in first class.”
“Thank you.” I gathered the dress onto my lap as I took my seat by the window. The things I did for my sisters. I needed to grow a backbone and learn how to say no once in a while.
“We meet again.” Deacon tucked his carry-on into the space at his feet before folding himself into his seat.
I hadn’t had the chance to take a good look at him before since I was so wrapped up in fighting for a seat and being wanded. Oh God, the wanding. Not only did everyone in security know that I’d been fitted with an IUD, I’d also admitted it to the man candy sitting next to me.
Offering an embarrassed smile, I tried to corral the garment bag into the space between my armrests.
“I guess they didn’t find you a spot in the overhead?” Deacon asked.
“Not yet, but I’m holding out hope I won’t be saddled with it all the way to Nashville.”
His fingers fumbled against my hip, searching for his lap belt.
“Sorry, I think I’m sitting on your seat belt.” I shifted, trying to push the bag aside so I could pull the metal piece from under my ass.
His hand brushed my thigh, sending heat straight to my cheeks before it drifted lower. “I got it.”
“Okay, then.” With my face on fire, I tried to swallow past the giant lump that had just materialized in my throat. How sad was it that having a hot stranger accidentally nudge my thigh was the most action I’d seen in months?
Hot seemed like an inadequate word to describe the man sitting next to me. What would be hotter than hot? I zoned out for a moment, trying to come up with the right word to describe him to my sisters later.
“Is that okay?” he asked.
“I’m sorry, what?” I turned my head slightly, realizing he’d been talking to me while I’d been preoccupied trying to figure out where he ranked on the Windsor sisters scale of hotness. Probably a twelve on a scale from one to ten for me.
“I asked if you wanted to put the bag between us so you have a little more room.” He’d scooted as close to the aisle as he could in the narrow airplane seat. “I don’t want you to suffocate over there and have to explain to your sister that her dress took you out before the wedding.”
Okay, at least a thirteen. A sense of humor had always been my weakness. “Thanks. I’m not sure she’d mind though, as long as the dress made the trip.”
“Ouch.” His forehead furrowed. “Are you and your sister not close?”
Shame at letting my frustration get the better of me made me bite my tongue. “It’s just been an exceptionally trying time with the wedding coming up. Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
“Not really.”
“Is that a no?”
He grinned, a slow, lazy smile that made my pulse tick faster. “It’s complicated. I don’t have any official siblings, but I’m close to my cousins in Tennessee.”
“You’re lucky. I bet your cousins don’t try setting you up just so they have an even number of guests at their head table.”
He chuckled, and the sound traveled up and down my spine, making each vertebrae tingle. “Yeah, I couldn’t help but overhear in the gate area. My cousins don’t care, but I guarantee you I’m going to catch grief from my aunt about not settling down yet.”
“It sucks. Why does everyone think I need a man to be happy?” I huffed out a breath. “Why can’t I be happy working on my career? Everyone thinks if you’re not married with kids by the time you’re thirty that your life is a waste.”
“My aunt must be related to your relatives,” Deacon joked. “I get the same thing every time I talk to her.”
I shook my head in sympathy. “Are you just heading east for a visit then?”
“A visit and some family business. How about you, is the wedding in Nashville?”
“No. I’m from a tiny town about ninety miles outside of Nashville. I’m sure you’ve never heard of it.”
“Try me.” The lift of his brows issued a challenge.
“Beaver Bluff, Tennessee. It’s where I was born and raised.”
His brows shot even higher. “No shit?”
“Um, no, no shit.” I’d had people call bullshit on me before when I told them where I was from, but never with such gusto. “You’ve never heard of it, have you?”
“Actually,”—he let out a soft laugh—“that’s where my cousins live.”
“You’re kidding.” Beaver Bluff’s population topped out at five thousand, and that was if we counted the tourists who flocked in to visit one of the biggest whiskey distilleries in the state.
“No joke. Looks like you and I are headed to the same place.”
The same place? My gaze immediately cut to his left hand. No ring. Though lack of a ring didn’t always mean a man was unattached, I eyed Deacon with fresh interest. Maybe, just maybe, I’d be able to avoid Bailey’s set up.
“So, Deacon, what kind of plans do you have while you’re in town?”
Chapter Four
Deacon
“Plans?” I eyed Tori with trepidation. “You’re not trying to sucker me into being your plus one for your sister’s wedding, are you?”
“Um… maybe?” She blinked at me through ridiculously long lashes. “Say a desperate stranger was trying to entice you to do her a favor”—she cocked her head to the side—“what would it take? I’m a middle school counselor so I can’t promise wads of cash, but I make an excellent chocolate pecan whiskey pie.”
My mouth watered at the mention of the local specialty. “Do they still serve it fresh out of the oven at Miss Sally’s?”
Tori batted her eyelashes. “They do. But I guarantee you my version beats Mis
s Sally’s, hands down.”
“You sound pretty sure of yourself.” I liked a woman with confidence, especially one who could bake.
“When it comes to pie, yes. When it comes to getting my family off my back, not so much.”
I hadn’t been to Beaver Bluff in over fifteen years. Chatting with Tori could give me a chance to get caught up on the happenings of the small town where I’d spent my youth and maybe give me some insight into what I might be walking into.
“Is the Slim Pickens general store still on the main drag?” I asked. My cousins and I used to ride bikes into town on errands for my aunt. Though they didn’t live too far out of town, we could waste a whole day making the round trip, especially when the draw of the local swimming hole was always too much to take on a hot summer’s day.
“Sure is. Slim himself still sits outside. He’s given over the day-to-day operation to his son and grandson, but he still shows up every day.” Tori smiled, the kind that lit up her entire face.
I’d forgotten how damn real the folks back home could be. Yeah, I considered Beaver Bluff home to some degree. Even though I only spent five years there, they were the happiest times I could remember.
“How about the swimming hole?”
“I haven’t been there in years. They closed it down a few years back since some kids were getting into trouble.”
“That’s a shame. Some of my best memories are from Beaver Bluff.” I hadn’t thought about those days in years. It had been difficult to leave the good times behind, especially once I got back to LA and realized what kind of future I was walking into… one where I ended up playing second fiddle to my mom and her new husband.
“If you don’t mind me asking, why did you leave?”
Usually I wouldn’t get involved in a deep conversation with a stranger, but I’d been struggling with my feelings about heading back to Tennessee for weeks, ever since I got the call that my cousins expected their granddad to pass anytime. Maybe because Tori reminded me so much of the family I’d left behind, for some reason I felt comfortable talking to her.
