All Shook Up

by Annalisa Daughety

  All Shook Up

  Annalisa Daughety

  ©2017 by Annalisa Daughety Alliston

  All rights reserved. No portion of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, scanning, or other—except for brief quotations in critical reviews or articles, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  Published in the United States of America by Annalisa Daughety Alliston

  www.annalisadaughety.com

  This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are used fictionally or are products of the author’s imagination. All characters are fictional and any similarity to people living or dead is purely coincidental.

  Contents

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Bonus Preview of Can’t Help Falling in Love

  About the Author

  A Note from the Author

  Books by Annalisa Daughety

  Dedication

  I’m blessed beyond measure by a wonderfully supportive group of family and friends who are always quick to offer prayers and encouragement as I’m faced with deadlines or am stumped by a book plot. I’m especially grateful to my mom, Vicky Daughety, who is always my first reader. Thanks, Mom, for all the things you do for me and my family (and my animals). I so appreciate all the ways you still take care of me even though I’m all grown up. I love you.

  Chapter One

  Suzanne Simpson bolted toward her gate at Atlanta’s Hartsfield-Jackson International Airport, sidestepping a group of texting teens and a woman wearing three-inch heels.

  She slowed down as she reached her gate in Concourse C and struggled to catch her breath. It never failed. Whenever she flew through Atlanta, her connecting flight inevitably boarded in a different concourse than her arriving flight. Which meant a mad dash through one of the largest airports in the country. At least she had the wisdom to wear flats when she traveled.

  “Final boarding for Delta flight sixteen fifty-eight,” a voice over the loudspeaker declared. The flight was the last one out of Atlanta tonight. If she didn’t make it, she’d be stuck until morning. And with the work week that loomed ahead, she knew she couldn’t afford to sleep in the airport tonight.

  Suzanne cast a woeful glance at the restroom and fished her boarding pass out of her bag. She held it out as she rushed to the gate.

  The attendant quickly scanned her pass and ushered her through the door.

  Lord, be with me and get me home safely. Guide the pilot’s actions and be with all those involved in the operation of the airplane. Every flight, no matter what, Suzanne prayed as she walked down the jet bridge to board the aircraft. It calmed her down. Even though she flew frequently, a fear of flying still lingered.

  The flight attendant waiting at the doorway frowned as Suzanne approached. “You’re the last passenger,” the woman said. “Please take your seat quickly.” So much for the friendly skies.

  “Sorry. My last flight was late. I got here as soon as I could.” Suzanne’s words seemed to placate the crewmember. Suzanne hoisted her bag over her shoulder and hurried down the aisle to her seat. She grinned at a group of men in first class who were dressed like Elvis. She didn’t have to wonder where they were headed.

  She stopped at her seat and glanced up at the numbers overhead to make sure she had the right one. Yep. And someone already occupied it. “Excuse me, sir?” she asked. A quick glance back told her the flight attendant was glowering at her from the front of the plane.

  The man in her seat never looked up. He had his eyes closed and ear buds in his ears.

  Suzanne sighed. She hated the aisle seat. If a window seat wasn’t available when she booked a trip, she chose another flight. This is not my day. She crumpled into the empty aisle seat and tucked her bag underneath the seat in front of her. She hadn’t had time to charge her phone at the gate as she’d planned, so she couldn’t even listen to music on the flight. She tilted her head back against the seat and closed her eyes.

  And felt someone staring at her.

  She opened her eyes and the guy next to her quickly looked down.

  “You know you’re in my seat,” she said loudly.

  No response.

  “You’re in my seat,” she said in a louder voice. Would it be in bad taste if she nudged him in the arm? She knew her behavior could be classified as bratty, but she didn’t care. She’d had a bad weekend. Breaking up with someone was never easy, especially when it was with a guy as nice as Jeremy. And now, all she wanted was to be able to lean her head against the window and sleep for the next hour.

  Except that this guy wouldn’t move. Or acknowledge her. This guy with a faded Braves hat that he wore so low she wasn’t totally sure he even had eyes. He reminded her of all the frat boys from college she’d worked hard to ignore.

  The flight attendant gave out last-minute safety instructions at the front of the aircraft. Even though Suzanne had heard them a million times, she watched the demonstration. Secure your own oxygen first, use your seat cushion as a flotation device, and the closest exit might be behind you…. None of those tips ever reassured her. Flying might be faster, but Suzanne was pretty sure she aged ten years with each trip she took. And now that she was approaching thirty, she’d just as soon slow the aging process. Next time, I’m driving.

  Suzanne took a deep breath as the plane taxied down the runway. Please keep us safe, Lord. One more prayer wouldn’t hurt. The plane lifted into the air, and Suzanne gripped the armrest.

  Ten minutes later, they’d reached their cruising altitude. Suzanne finally relaxed her grip and looked around. She smiled at a toddler two seats up. See, it’s fine. Everything is fine.

  The overhead speakers crackled to life. “Welcome aboard. This is your captain speaking. On behalf of our crew, thanks for choosing to fly with us to Memphis tonight. There are thunderstorms ahead, so please remain seated with your seatbelts fastened. We might experience a bit of turbulence as we pass over the unstable air mass, but it’s nothing to be concerned about. Sit back and enjoy your flight.”

  Suzanne bit her lip. Thunderstorms were the worst. And this plane wasn’t exactly huge. One lightning strike and they’d probably wind up somewhere in the wilderness that was Mississippi. She focused on her breathing to calm herself down.

  “Nervous flyer, huh?”

  She glanced up and met the brown eyes of the guy who’d stolen her seat. So you do have eyes under that hat. His grin told her he felt no remorse for his travel faux pas. “I guess you could say that.”

  He rifled through his backpack and pulled out a pack of gum and a Dean Koontz novel. It wasn’t every day she came across a guy who liked to read. And even if he’d broken the airplane etiquette rules, she had to admit he had nice eyes. And a great smile.

  “How about you? Flying doesn’t make you nervous?” she asked, watching as he popped a piece of gum in his mouth then held out the package to her. She plucked a stick of gum from the package.

  He shook his head. “Nope. I figure if it’s my time to go, it’s my time to go.” He grinned. “No sense worrying about something
I can’t control, right?”

  Suzanne flashed him a tiny smile. He sounded an awful lot like her grandpa. “Good philosophy, I guess.”

  “‘Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own,’” he quoted with a grin. “Matthew 6:34.”

  A book-reading, Bible-quoting cutie. Maybe she could overlook his penchant for stealing window seats. She offered him an encouraging grin.

  “So is Memphis your final destination?” he asked.

  She nodded. “Yes. How about you?”

  “Me, too.” He grinned and held out a hand. “Sorry, I forgot my manners. I’m Nick Taggart.”

  She shook his outstretched hand. “Suzanne Simpson.” She appreciated his firm grip. Grandpa used to say that you could tell a lot about a man by the way he shook hands. If that were true, she’d have to surmise that Nick Taggart brimmed with confidence.

  “Well, Suzanne, are you Memphis-bound for business or pleasure?”

  Making airplane small talk was definitely not on Suzanne’s list of favorites, but Nick’s good looks could turn her into a fan. “Actually neither.” She smiled. “I live there.”

  A shadow crossed his face. “I see.”

  The plane lurched, and Suzanne gripped the armrest. She peered ahead and glimpsed the flight attendant swaying as she tried to make her way to a seat. The plane dropped suddenly, along with Suzanne’s stomach. It might be a fun feeling on a roller coaster, but thousands of feet in the air, it induced panic.

  Suzanne closed her eyes and held on tightly.

  ***

  Nick Taggart studied the woman beside him out of the corner of his eye. She kept such a tight grip on the armrest, it probably had a dent from her fingers. Her closed eyes gave him license to admire her profile. Long lashes, a slightly upturned nose, and full lips. She was definitely cute. No. She was more than cute. She was beautiful, but in an unassuming way. Like she didn’t try too hard. She had shoulder-length blond hair that was slightly wavy. He liked the waves. Made her seem kind of unpredictable.

  As the plane jerked, Suzanne opened her eyes and caught him staring. “Do you mind?” she asked.

  He fought back a grin. “Sorry. I was checking to see if you’re okay. I’d just as soon not get thrown up on or anything.”

  She glared at him with eyes the color of the Mediterranean. “I’m not sick. A little on edge maybe, but not sick.”

  Nick chuckled. “I thought we established that there was no point in worrying.”

  “I’m not worrying, just nervous.” She scowled. “You’re in my seat, you know. If the plane goes down, they probably won’t be able to identify me because some man is in 16A.”

  He groaned. “I’m sorry. I always get the window seat. I must not have paid attention.” He gazed into her narrowed eyes. “Honestly. My bad.”

  Her face relaxed. “That’s fine. I was a little late boarding. Besides, your hogging the window seat means I don’t feel bad about hogging the armrest.” She inhaled sharply as the plane dropped again.

  Nick leaned closer to her. So close he could smell her perfume. Or shampoo. Whatever it was, it smelled like honeysuckle. “How about we play a little game? Take your mind off the storm.”

  She eyed him suspiciously. “I don’t make it a practice to play games with strangers, but considering we could soon be plummeting to the ground, I’ll make an exception.”

  He shook his head. “Okay. Twenty questions. Me first.” He adjusted his baseball cap. “Are you a cat person or a dog person?”

  “Dog. Cats hate me for some reason. I have a dog named Charlie though, and I can’t wait to see him if we ever get off of this plane.” She regarded him for a long minute. “My turn. Is your favorite holiday Christmas or Thanksgiving?”

  “Neither. My favorite holiday is the Fourth of July.” He didn’t want to go into details, but he wasn’t exactly a brimming-with-holiday-spirit kind of guy. In fact, a few years ago he’d started taking tropical vacations during the holiday season. An indulgent vacation made him feel less alone and gave him something to look forward to as everyone else was all caught up in happy memories of family get-togethers and caroling in the snow.

  Suzanne looked at him with wide eyes. “Really? Wow. I just figured. . . Well I thought most people would choose one or the other.”

  Nick shrugged. “I’m not most people.”

  “Clearly.” She grinned.

  “Ladies and Gentlemen, we’re making our initial descent into Memphis. Attendants, please prepare the cabin for landing.”

  Nick smiled at Suzanne. “How about that? We’re almost there and no plummeting.”

  “Yet.” She quirked her mouth into a grin. “Landing is the most dangerous part.”

  He chuckled. “Why am I not surprised to hear you say that?”

  “Just keeping it real.”

  Ten minutes later they were on the ground. Suzanne stood and peered down at Nick. “The upside to the aisle seat—I get to deplane first.” She shot him a sassy grin and started down the aisle.

  He laughed. He liked the way she didn’t cut him any slack. He grabbed his backpack and followed her toward the terminal. He headed toward baggage claim just steps behind Suzanne. She’d joined up with a group of Elvis impersonators, and they were clearly trying to impress her. The smell of barbecue hung thick in the air. Even at the airport, the city’s delicacy was all around him.

  Hello again, Memphis. It’s been awhile. But I’m sure you’re still the same.

  Chapter Two

  Suzanne stood at baggage claim, waiting impatiently for her bag to appear on the conveyor belt. She scanned the crowd to see if Nick Taggart lingered around. She hadn’t asked him why he’d come to Memphis, but she guessed business. Maybe sales. He struck her as one of those party-boy business types who saw work travel as the chance to sample the best restaurants on the company dime and flirt with girls on planes. And probably wherever else he went. She hadn’t noticed a wedding ring, but experience told her that meant nothing.

  “So we’ll see you at some point this week, right?” an older man asked, lumbering up alongside her. His white Elvis jumpsuit was missing a few rhinestones, and his plump belly was more reminiscent of Elvis’s later years than the prime of his youth. He grinned. “I’m George. We met as we exited the plane.”

  She nodded. “I’ll be there all week. I hope you and your friends enjoy the city.”

  “Oh, we will. We’re headed to Heartbreak Hotel now, and tomorrow we’re going to Neely’s to eat barbecue with all the fixin’s.” He grinned. “Memphis does it a little different than we’re used to in Texas, you know.”

  Suzanne smiled. “Yes, sir. But I know better than to debate you about who does it better.” Living in a barbecue-centric town meant an ongoing debate about what style was best. As far as Suzanne was concerned, Memphis-style beat Texas or the Carolinas any day of the week.

  George chuckled. “I wouldn’t dream of it. We’ll call it a draw.” He shot her a wink and grabbed a bag from the conveyer.

  Suzanne eyed his suitcase, wondering if it was full of Elvis-themed attire or if George and his buddies had dressed up just for the enjoyment of their fellow air travelers. “Take care,” she called as he joined his friends and strolled out the sliding doors to the parking lot.

  “Do you attract crazies everywhere you go?” Nick Taggart asked from behind her.

  She whirled to face him. “Obviously. I mean, you’re next to me again, aren’t you?”

  Nick chuckled. “Touché.” He raised his hands up in surrender. “I meant those old Elvis wanna-bes. What’s the deal with them?”

  Suzanne spotted her bag coming around the belt. She leaned forward to snatch it but Nick’s strong hands scooped it up and gently put it on the ground before she could reach it. “You must not have read your Memphis guidebook before you picked this week to travel,” she teased.

  He furrowed his brow. “What’s this week?”

  Suzanne smirk
ed as her eyes twinkled. “Welcome to Elvis Week. All Elvis, all week long.”

  He groaned. “Between that and the barbecue smell wafting around, it’s like I’m stuck inside of a Memphis cliché.” He shook his head. “So I guess Elvis fans will be out in full force, huh?”

  “Yep. From every country around the world. You should hang out at Graceland if you want the full effect.” She grinned.

  “Ugh. What kind of person would want to spend time at such a kitschy place?” He laughed.

  Suzanne frowned. “I work there.” She locked eyes with him, daring him to continue poking fun.

  He swallowed. “Oh. Wow. Sorry.” He tugged at his baseball hat. “What do you do there?”

  “Event planning. Specifically weddings. There’s a chapel on the grounds.” Suzanne could admit to herself that it might not be her dream position, but she’d never tell Nick. Especially given the obvious disdain on his face.

  Nick grabbed a large suitcase from the conveyer. “Sounds like fun.” The tone of his voice told her that he thought otherwise.

  “It is.” She gave him a tiny smile and pulled up the suitcase handle. “I’d better go. It’s late. Nice to meet you, Nick. Enjoy Memphis.” Before he had time to respond, she stepped out the double doors and to the crosswalk. The August humidity spread over her like a warm blanket. Almost eleven and it was still miserably hot. She paused at the crosswalk and tried to remember which lot she’d parked in. She should’ve written it down but had been in such a hurry on Friday afternoon that she hadn’t given it much attention.

  “Suzanne,” Nick called. “Wait.” He jogged over to her. “Um. Listen. Do you have a card or something? Because now that I know what you do, I might be able to use your services.”

  She eyed him warily. He wanted to plan a wedding? At Graceland? Stop judging. Maybe he had an Elvis-loving fiancée back home. Wherever that was. “Sure.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a business card. “Here you go.”

  Nick took the card and shoved it in his pocket. “Thanks.” He shifted from one foot to the other, clearly uncomfortable. “Well it was nice to meet you, Suzanne. I’ll be in touch soon.”