The Plan: A Sweet and Sexy Rock Star Romantic Comedy (The Creek Water Series Book 3)

by Whitney Dineen

  “Okay, Mama. I’ll call Lexi today and we’ll get cooking on it. But it’s our deal, so you and Aunt Gracie keep your noses out of it, okay?”

  “You’re not going to get any trouble from us.” Probably only because they’re too busy trying to pull off an actual wedding and reception with hardly any notice, but I’m not going to complain. Then she asks, “Are you free for dinner on Friday night? We thought we’d have everyone over to the house.”

  “Family dinner twice in one week?” I ask, feeling no desire to see them all again so soon. Once a week is our tradition.

  “There’s just so much going on with the upcoming wedding. It’s easier to get everyone together at the same time than make a million calls trying to keep each other updated.” Little does she realize not everyone cares to hear every little detail. I’m sure Davis is even less excited than I am.

  “I’m not sure if I can make it,” I tell her. “I’ll let you know by Friday morning.”

  “You got a date?” Mama pries. She just can’t help herself.

  “I might.” I have no such thing but I’m not sure I can stand another evening full of wedding talk. All I want to do is throw a shower and show up to the main event. I don’t feel the need to be a part of choosing the napkins or hand towels. This whole ordeal is like waving a red cape in front of a bull, and that bull is my mama.

  Chapter 15

  Emmie calls after lunch and demands, “What happened after you and Huck left the club last night?”

  “I drove him back to Lexi’s,” I say.

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah, but what did you talk about? Did he put the moves on you? Did you put the moves on him?”

  I nearly tell her that I was so excited I almost threw my panties at him—because OMG, Huck Wiley held my hand!—but I manage to keep that little tidbit to myself. In an effort to retain my dignity, I say, “We didn’t talk about much of anything. I told him a little bit about Creek Water and Lexi’s house, but nothing else.” I feel like I’d be betraying Huck by sharing more.

  As an afterthought, I add, “The man is a rock star, for Pete’s sake. You can’t really think he’d be interested in a small-town girl like me.”

  “Maybe not long term, but what about a nice fling?” she suggests.

  “You’re no more of a fling gal than I am, Emmaline Frothingham.”

  “I know, I know, but girl, if you ever were going to fling, I vote for doing it with the likes of Huck Wiley. That man positively oozes sex appeal, even when he’s dressed like he’s going to a PTA meeting. What was up with that anyway?”

  “I’m guessing he was trying not to advertise the fact that he’s in town.”

  “It’s going to get out,” my cousin warns.

  “I know it, but as long as we don’t tell anyone, we might buy him some extra anonymity.”

  “You had to have talked about something interesting,” she prods.

  I blurt out, “His real name is Huckleberry.”

  “Oh, my word, that’s horrible. What were his parents thinking?”

  “They were probably Mark Twain fans,” I say, resolving not to give away anything else.

  “When are you going to see him again?” she wants to know.

  “I guess when he brings his daughter into the store for beading lessons.”

  “When’s that going to be?”

  “I don’t know.” Then I hurry and say, “I’ve got to go, a customer just came in.” I’m lying, but all this talk about the rock star is unnerving. Yesterday I was all set to flirt with the man and have some fun—which didn’t happen because we got sidetracked talking about my anxiety—but today I don’t feel that way. Huck’s life is just as complicated as mine. More so because he has a little girl. There’s no way I want to be responsible for making her life any harder than it already is. No sir, from this point on, I plan to be nothing more than friendly to Huck while he’s in town. I’m not going to search him out and try to put myself in his path. I’m not going to try to get him alone. What we shared last night was something special, but it was something we cannot repeat. Because if we did, I’m not sure I’d have the fortitude not to throw myself at him.

  I pick up the phone and call Lexi. When she answers, I announce, “We need to set the date for Emmie’s bridal shower. Mama says we should do it after Valentine’s Day.”

  “Why don’t we have it on Saturday, the fifteenth? Does that work for you?”

  “It should. I can always close early if I have to.” But then I remember Mrs. P and jot down a note to ask her if she can work that day. I’d ask her now, but she’s already left for her afternoon nap.

  Lexi asks, “Should we have a couple’s shower or one for women only?”

  “What do you think?”

  “I went to a couple’s shower once where everyone came as famous couples, like Anthony and Cleopatra, and Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie—when they were still together … It was a lot of fun.”

  “Who did you go as?” I want to know.

  “I wasn’t part of a couple at the time, so I went as Gwyneth Paltrow after her conscious uncoupling from Chris Martin. I was her Glee persona, Holly Holliday.”

  “Huh. I guess if we do the ‘couple thing’ I could steal your Holly Holliday idea. Let’s ask Emmie and Zach what they think.”

  Lexi asks, “You want to come over tonight and toss around some ideas?”

  I know I just said that I wasn’t going to go out of my way to see Huck again, and I’m not. But, Lexi and I really do have to get together to plan this shower, and being that she just invited me over, I really should go. It’s the polite thing to do. That’s what I’m telling myself, anyway.

  “You want me to grab some takeout?” I ask.

  “Would you mind picking up some fish from Shuckie’s?”

  “Sounds good. You want the hush puppies and banana pudding, too?”

  “Of course,” she says. “Get enough for Huck, too. I’m not planning on making all of his meals, but this is only his second night in town, so it would be a nice gesture.”

  I agree to get dinner for four in case Beau comes by, and I’m pretty sure he will. He lives right next door to Lexi and they practically eat all their dinners together. At least that’s what Mama says. And being that she probably peeks through their windows, she should know.

  “I’ll see you around six thirty then,” Lexi says before hanging up.

  I immediately start planning what to wear as if I’m going on a date. I put the closed sign in the window and run upstairs to take a shower because I didn’t have time this morning. First I make myself fresh as a daisy, then I search my closet for the perfect outfit, one that says, I’m a gorgeous woman, but I’m not trying too hard.

  When I look in the mirror and take in the final effect, I scold my reflection, “You’re a big fat liar, Amelia Frothingham. You look like you’re out to catch yourself a man.” And while I try to pretend I’m not, and reason that this outfit is no fancier than any of the other things I wear, I still stop in the bathroom to apply a little extra makeup.

  Chapter 16

  I arrive out front of Lexi’s at six thirty on the nose with two big bags of fish. I turn off the stereo that’s been blasting “Untethered,” adjust my coat, and rush up to Lexi’s front door. Holy gust up my skirt, Batman, it’s cold. In weather like this, I wish I wore pants, but I just don’t like them. I feel freer and more emotionally flexible in skirts. Don’t even try to make sense out of that.

  Lexi meets me at the door and ushers me in. “I’ve got a fire going in the parlor.” She’s bundled up in a thick sweater and even has a fuzzy wrap across her shoulders.

  “What’s up with the shawl, granny?” I tease.

  “The ladies from Good Shepherd Lutheran Church brought me a prayer shawl along with my ‘Welcome to Town’ basket. Apparently, they knit them by the truckload for people who are in mourning, but in my case, they suggested I keep it on hand for cold nights. It’s gotten a lot of use, let me tell you.”

  “That�
��s the thing with old houses, they’re drafty.”

  “I put some space heaters upstairs in the bedrooms until I can afford to address the situation on a more permanent basis, but honestly I think it adds to the charm of staying at a Victorian B&B, don’t you?” she asks optimistically.

  “Sure, let’s go with that,” I respond. Then I take off my coat and immediately realize I might be better off keeping it on.

  Lexi takes in my floaty top and skirt and hands me an afghan. “Go warm up by the fire and I’ll get some plates.”

  My insides churn in excitement at the thought of seeing Huck again. Last week if you’d have told me that either Huck Wiley was going to come to town or I was going to have tea with a full-blown yeti, my money would have been on the Sasquatch.

  I curl up in a hand-carved gentleman’s chair that was original to this house, and stare around the ornate room. I swear I can see the ghosts of Lexi’s and my combined family members bustling around like they did back in the day. I wonder what life would have been like for me if I’d been around at that time. I probably would have been married off at fifteen to some old potbellied gentleman farmer or some such. A shudder of imagination-fed revulsion overtakes me. Of course, if the gentleman farmer looked like Huck, I would have set a world record running to the church.

  Lexi pulls me out of my reverie when she comes in with a tray of dishes, silverware, and napkins. She puts them on the coffee table in front of me. “I think your parents should hire Shuckie to cater Emmie and Zach’s wedding. The man is magic.”

  “That’ll be my wedding, if I ever have one,” I tell her.

  “You don’t want a big deal down at the club?”

  “No, ma’am,” I tell her. “I want to party on the docks with lots of loud music and twinkle lights that run for miles. I want to eat fried fish and hush puppies, drink beer, and dance until my feet fall off.”

  “I want to be invited to that wedding. It sounds like the event of the century,” a deep voice says. I turn to follow the sound; I hadn’t heard Huck walk in. I stare right at him and discover he’s his stunning bad-boy self. If he were a painting I’d title it “Rock Star in Repose.” He’s wearing a pair of his signature worn jeans and a tight t-shirt. This time it’s advertising an old Pearl Jam tour. He doesn’t look the least bit cold.

  “The night I get hitched, you’ll probably be selling out Yankee Stadium and dodging a bushel load of panties being thrown your way by adoring fans,” I reply, totally dismissing his request to come to my wedding.

  Huck laughs as though I’ve caught him totally off guard by my somewhat saucy comment. “If I played Yankee Stadium that might just happen, but Madison Square Garden isn’t quite that wild. Although a thong or two does make it my way,” he assures me.

  “Lucky you.” The thought of throwing my unmentionables at him, and him picking them up, cause my insides to liquify into a pool of raw desire.

  “Have you ever been to one of my concerts, Amelia?” he wants to know.

  I don’t answer right away. Instead, I take time to clear my throat and fill my plate with an assortment of yummy food. I wait so long to address his question that I figure he’s forgotten he even asked it. I suggest, “You’d best hurry up and get some of this or you’re gonna be out of luck. I don’t bother eating like a lady when Shuckie’s the chef.”

  Huck grabs a plate before repeating, “Have you ever been to one of my concerts, Amelia?”

  “I have not,” I tell him.

  “I’m offended,” he teases gruffly. “Why not?”

  “Because I have every album you’ve ever released and I don’t see the need to get all gussied up just to drive three hours to a venue only to be subjected to hordes of people screaming your name so loud that I can’t actually hear what you’re singing.” Then, instead of leaving well enough alone, I add, “I’d rather curl up on my couch, put on your album, and have you all to myself.” Good lord, why did I say that?

  “Sounds nice,” he says. “Let me know the next time you do that, and I’ll come over and join you.”

  A groan of sheer longing escapes my throat before I can stop it. Lexi stands up abruptly and walks out of the room mumbling, “I forgot the lemon wedges.”

  I know she’s giving us a moment to tie up whatever this thing is currently going on between us.

  “Would you mind passing the tartar sauce?” I ask, hoping to fill the air with something other than sexual tension. Tartar sauce being a very unsexy topic. Unless of course I spread it all over his mouth before licking it off … damn, that man can even make tartar sauce sexy.

  Huck doesn’t slide it down the coffee table like I expect him to. Instead, he stands up and brings it over to me, a maneuver that leaves me flustered. “Thank you,” I say primly as I take it from his large warm hands while leaning in to inhale his spicy aftershave.

  But instead of going back to his seat on the settee across from me, he bends down and whispers in my ear, “You are most welcome, Amelia. Let me know if there’s anything else I can give you.”

  I chastise myself—Do not think about what else that might be!—all the while ripples of longing surge through my veins. My skin suddenly feels like it could jump right off of me, leaving me vulnerable to attack. That’s when it hits me, Huck Wiley makes me feel exposed. I’ve got no game around this man, no protection and that scares the very life out of me.

  Chapter 17

  My brother walks in, shifting the atmosphere that’s taken over the parlor. Thank the good Lord for that. “Hoo-weee it’s colder than the hinges of hell out there,” he declares.

  Huck jumps backwards, like he just got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Too bad it wasn’t even close to my … you know. The thought of Huck’s hands near me makes me want to drag him off to a dark corner and see what happens.

  The rock star says, “You got here just in time for dinner, Beau. It looks good, too.”

  “Shuckie’s?” Beau asks after inhaling deeply.

  “Yes, sir,” I tell him. “With all the fixins.”

  Lexi returns as Beau shares, “Lexi and I had our first date at Shuckie’s, didn’t we, honey?” Then he gives her a lingering kiss.

  “We sure did,” she says when they finally break apart. Talk about uncomfortable. Their unrestrained smooch is stirring up my own yearnings for Huck. My insides are bubbling up like a witches brew right after the eye of newt is added, like the oldest magic in the universe is at play whenever I’m around him.

  “I didn’t realize it was a date at the time,” Lexi says, dragging my attention away from my lustful urges.

  “What in the heck did you think it was?” my brother wants to know.

  “Dinner. Remember, I thought you and Shelby were still together.”

  “That’s right,” he confirms somewhat uncomfortably.

  Beau and Shelby only dated for a short time before it all went belly up. Thanks to Cootie’s interference, they broke up before Shelby discovered she was pregnant with Beau’s baby. Beau would have probably asked her to marry him otherwise, so in this one case alone, we were all grateful for her meddling ways.

  When Shelby miscarried their “whoops” baby, the event was so upsetting for her, it forced her to reevaluate her life. She decided she didn’t like the path she was on.

  I ask, “How’s Shelby doing up in New York City?” Lexi’s mama Regina, who lives in New York, invited her to stay when she made it clear she was through with small-town life. Regina offered to show Shelby around the Big Apple to see if it was to her liking.

  “She’s doing great, actually. My mom says she’s found a neighborhood that she likes and she’s looking for her own apartment.”

  “What is she doing for work?” Beau asks. He and Shelby parted as friends, which is rare when two people break up, but it’s nice. The way they figured it, they almost had a baby together, and while that didn’t work out, their shared loss seems to have cemented their bond as good friends.

  Lexi answers, “She’s been inter
viewing for jobs in the hospitality industry. I don’t know if she’s gotten one yet, though.”

  Huck has since moved back to his seat after filling his plate. He takes a bite and groans in sheer pleasure. “This is amazing. I’m going to have to take Maggie to this place when she gets here.”

  “When’s that gonna be?” Beau asks.

  “Saturday. My sister is going to fly here with her before heading right back to LA.”

  “She’s not going to stay for a few days?” Lexi asks. “There’s plenty of room here.”

  “She and her husband have an award dinner the following night and she wants to get back right away.”

  “You want a ride to the airport?” Beau asks.

  “That would be great,” Huck says. “I don’t know my way around the area, and I don’t want to hire a car. You never know who’s going to tip off the press about where I am or share something I say to my daughter.”

  “That must be rough,” Lexi offers. “It’s not a worry the rest of us ever have.”

  “It’s a pain in the ass is what it is, but it’s the life I lead.”

  “Does it bother your daughter?” Lexi wants to know.

  I wonder how much of Huck’s lifestyle plays into Maggie’s anxiety while he answers, “I do my best to keep her sheltered.” I hope he hires extra security when she’s on the road with him. I shudder just thinking of all the potential danger that must surround that situation.

  “She must love having a rock star for a dad. Great bragging rights, huh?” my brother asks.

  Huck shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t think it’s all it’s cracked up to be. I’m pretty sure Maggie would rather I was a doctor, teacher, or burger flipper at In-N-Out Burger than a musician.”

  I look at Beau and Lexi; they look as uncomfortable as I feel. Not knowing how to respond, I change the subject. “I just got a bunch of new beading looms in the mail today for my classes.”

  Beau says, ‘Huh,” while Lexi comments, “That’s nice.” Surprise, surprise, no one seems to find this overly interesting.