“I’m sorry. I know how much you were looking forward to living in New York.”
She shrugs her shoulders. “I can always move another time. I want to be here to help her get better and I want to be here to support her through the divorce with Daddy. I expect she’s going to need a shoulder to lean on.”
“Huck’s planning on staying for a while, too. That’ll be nice for y’all to get to know each other better.”
“It’ll be nice for you, too,” she says. “Looks like my brother has found his better half.” She smiles kindly.
“I think I’m the one who lucked out here,” I tell her. And I mean that with my whole heart. Huck and Maggie Wiley came into my life when they were the last thing I thought I needed. They’ve been responsible for me facing my demons and deciding to quit hiding from life. I’m sure I have a long road ahead of me, but I’m confident there’s nothing like love to give a person strength.
I trust Huck loving me is going to give me the ability to forget his past and move forward in a shared future. There’s nothing I can’t do with their support. Just like I know with Shelby’s love, Cootie is going to come back stronger than ever. Let’s just hope her new and improved personality is a keeper.
Epilogue
Maggie comes running over to us, jumping up and down for all she’s worth. “I did it! I got the fastest time!” And she did, too. She caught Hambone in two minutes flat, fourteen seconds faster than anyone else.
I laugh out loud. “Girl, we’re gonna have to get your daddy to buy you a trophy case to display your ribbon.”
She smiles so big it splits her face right in half. Cootie calls out, “Get over here, honey, and show your grandmama that ribbon.”
In the five months since Cootie’s accident, her personality has never shifted back to her mean self. In fact, she, Mama, and Aunt Gracie have become fast friends. You can tell the Frothingham gals are still a little mistrustful of the whole thing, but they really do want to believe the change is permanent.
Since Huck and Maggie officially moved to Creek Water two months ago, they’ve been welcomed into small-town life. They went back to California long enough to put their house on the market and put their worldly possessions in storage. Right now, they’re staying in the apartment across the hall from mine until the house they’re having built is done. Mama and Aunt Gracie have been doing their best to horn in on the designing, but I’ve held them at bay, telling them it’s my job to advise Huck.
Maggie has made her peace with Mrs. P and has decided it’s going to be easier to embrace math than to fight with my old teacher and current employee. Yes, I’ve finally put her on the payroll, so I can spend more time with Huck and Maggie.
Right now, I feel pretty dang content. Last week, five months after we officially met, Huck Wiley asked me to be his wife. It’s crazy fast, I know, but I said yes as quickly as the word would come out. I feel like I’ve known Huck for ten years. And through his music, I guess I have.
He claims that meeting me felt like coming home, like he’d been waiting for me his whole life. He’s definitely finding that life in Creek Water is a little more challenging than he thought it would be, though. For instance, he can’t believe we don’t have decent Chinese food within sixty miles, and he’d like to go to a movie theater with more than two choices of films.
While the Wileys have been adapting to Missouri, I’ve been working hard with my therapist and I haven’t had to count in almost a month.
I’m so optimistic that I am heading in the right direction that I told Huck and Maggie I’d go to France with them this summer. When my mama heard that Shelby and Cootie were going, she informed me that she would not be left behind. So, she and Daddy are coming, as well.
Huck took the opportunity to invite my whole family. Emmie, Zach, and Faye are coming, as are Lexi and Beau. Aunt Gracie and Uncle Jesse say they wouldn’t miss it for the world. I’m not sure about Davis yet, he’ll let us know when he makes up his mind.
I wonder if Huck has any idea of what life in France is gonna be like when a bunch of Frothinghams and extended Frothinghams let loose. I cringe when I think of my family ending up on the cover of a tabloid.
Huck comes running over to our picnic tables and announces, “Maggie’s surprise is here. Close your eyes, baby.”
As soon as she does, Huck signals across the park. My breath catches in my throat as Gizzy Jacobs jogs across the park in long easy strides. Even though he’s not wearing leather, he still looks like a rock star in his blue jeans and white t-shirt.
As soon as he reaches us, Huck says, “Open your eyes, Mags.”
Maggie screams, “Uncle Gizzy!” She flings herself into his arms.
He easily picks her up and throws her on his shoulders. “I’ve missed you, Squirt,” he tells her. “So much so that I’m going to stay awhile.”
Shelby returns from the ice cream truck in time to hear him. “What are you doin’ here?” she demands. She looks equal parts irritated and excited.
“I’m visiting my goddaughter. I hope that’s okay with you,” he replies somewhat sarcastically.
“It’s none of my business,” she gestures like she couldn’t care less even though she asked.
Huck leans and whispers in my ear, “I hope they try to get along, even if it’s just for Maggie’s sake.”
I turn and give my rock star a long slow kiss before answering, “I don’t think you have anything to worry about with those two.”
He squeezes my hand and pulls me off to the side under a big maple tree. “I wrote you a song today.”
“You did? How does it go?”
He hums a sweet tune before singing:
One … three … five … seven …
It’s like I died and went to heaven.
In her arms I want to stay.
Not for long, just forever and a day.
Thank you all for taking the time to read Amelia’s story! If you enjoyed it, please take a moment to leave a review. Reviews are the best way to show your support.
If you aren’t already signed up for my newsletter, please do so! This way I can keep you apprised of new releases, promotions, etc.
Preorder The Dream (Book 4 in The Creek Water Series) – Coming in May of 2020.
Ashley McGee has loved the same boy since high school. She knew Davis Frothingham was special even before he championed her at her senior prom. She also knew he was completely out of her league.
Years later, her attraction for him is still there, but Davis? He doesn’t even remember her.
When Ashley is tasked with being the nurse for Davis’ terminally ill grandmother, she’s thrown back into his world. More than anything, she wants him to remember her, but that recollection could come at a price of its own.
Can Ashley accept that she’s good enough for Davis? And can Davis learn to love a girl from the wrong side of the tracks? Find out in this delightfully fun romcom about love and life in Creek Water, Missouri!
About the Author
Whitney Dineen is an award-winning author of romantic comedies, non-fiction humor, thrillers, and middle reader fiction. She lives in the beautiful Pacific Northwest with her husband and two daughters. When not weaving stories, Whitney can be found gardening, wrangling free-range chickens, or eating french fries. Not always in that order. She loves to hear from her fans and can be reached through her website at https://whitneydineen.com/.
Ways to connect withWhitney !
Mailing List
BookBub
Facebook
Twitter
Email [email protected]
Goodreads
Whitney_Dineen Blog whitneydineen.com/blog/
Please write a review on Amazon, Goodreads, or BookBub. Reviews are the best way to support a story you love!
While you’re waiting for The Dream, check out Whitney’s multi-award-winning Relativity Series.
Four Years Ago
My best friend is a vision straight out of one of those glossy bridal
magazines that costs more than a macchiato and breakfast sandwich at Starbucks. She’s well over six feet tall in her heels, slim as a fashion model—except she’s sporting a C-cup no emaciated supermodel would be caught dead with—and her silky brown hair is currently twisted in an impossibly complicated up-do that probably required four professional hair stylists and a drag queen to execute. She’s elegant beyond words.
I gasp as she spins around, so I can behold her in all her splendor. The sleeveless, beaded-bodice trumpet gown fits her like a glove. “Jasmine Marie, you’re glorious!”
She giggles, which is a sound you wouldn’t expect to come out of such a stunningly ethereal creature. She spins again, “I’ve never felt so girly! And that’s saying something being that I’m this tall.”
“Whoever said a month’s paycheck was too much to spend on a wedding dress clearly never saw you in this one. I feel like a proud mother right now.”
Jazz heaves a sigh. “Speaking of mothers, you have to do me a favor.” My eyebrows raise in interest. She continues, “Watch out for mine and make sure she doesn’t murder my dad’s new wife during dinner.”
I snort. “Puh-leeze, your mom is every ounce a lady. She’d no more commit murder than I would.”
“Alas, Brandee—with two e’s— the latest of my dad’s spouses, has just announced she’s pregnant. My mom isn’t taking the news gracefully.”
“You’re kidding me? You’re going to have a new brother or sister at twenty-nine?” Then I ask, “How old is Brandee again?”
My friend rolls her big brown eyes. “My dearest stepmother has just turned twenty-four.”
“I don’t know, Jazz. I think your dad is the one who needs offing in this scenario. I might be persuaded to help.”
“I would appreciate if no murders were committed at my nuptials.” Then she hugs me, and says, “But I love you for offering.”
“Oh, Jazzy,” I exclaim, “this day is going to be so wonderful. You deserve every minute of happiness. Dylan is one lucky guy.”
Brushing a non-existent wrinkle out of her skirt, she declares, “Now all we need to do is find you the perfect man. Three of the groomsmen are single. You’ve met two of them, and the third is the one with sandy blond hair. He’s Dylan’s cousin, Jared, from Detroit.”
“Detroit? Hard pass.” The sarcasm rolls off my tongue. “I’m not looking for a long-distance love. But have no fear, I’ll definitely scope out the other two. I’m not opposed to meeting the future Mr. Catriona Masterton tonight.”
She beams. “People often meet their future spouses at weddings. It’s a thing.”
“So, it’s got to be my turn, right?”
Jazz playfully punches my arm. “That’s the attitude I love! I just wish you were walking down the aisle with me.”
I call out to Jennifer, our assistant, “Make sure you pack up all of Jazz’s stuff and take it over to her suite at the hotel. Oh, and before you go, tell Elaine to get the limos turned around out front to transport the wedding party to the reception once the ceremony ends.”
In addition to being best friends, Jazz and I own a much sought-after event-planning business in Manhattan. We’re the go-to duo known for stylishly executing even the trickiest parties—like weddings where the groom was once married to the bride’s sister—without a hitch.
I turn to the current bride. “I wish I were walking down the aisle with you too, but someone has to make sure this shin-dig of yours goes off perfectly. There’s a ton of potential business out there, so we have to make sure this is our best party yet. Now, hustle, the bridesmaids are already upstairs, and their procession starts in …”—I check my watch— “two minutes, which only gives you seven before it’s your turn.”
I pick up my friend’s chapel-length train to keep it from getting dirty on the stairs. “Let’s go, lady; your happily-ever-after awaits.”
We arrive upstairs in the entrance of St. John the Divine Cathedral just as Emily, the last bridesmaid, starts her goosestep down the aisle. Jazz and I stand side-by-side watching her go. As Emily takes her place in the front of the altar, the first strains of Trumpet Voluntary fill the atmosphere like a heavenly serenade. Chills race through my body as I kiss my friend’s cheek and hand her off to her father who will deliver her to her destiny, one Dylan Finch.
Once the ceremony is over and the reception is in full swing at the St. Regis Hotel, I take off my party-planner hat and put on my dancing shoes. It’s go time. I have my eye on a particular groomsman, whom I’ve met on a couple other occasions. He’s sweet and shy, but super easy on the eyes. I’m not sure we’re destined for matrimony, but a couple of dances would be fun.
I straighten the skinny navy skirt of my evening dress and prepare for the chase. I take a step forward and wind up doing an unexpected split to the ground. Ouch! The waiter rushes over to clean up the spilled drink I inadvertently stepped in, and before I can begin the process of restoring my dignity, a pair of shiny, black shoes shows up next to me.
A manly hand stretches out and a deep voice inquires, “May I be of assistance?” He introduces himself. “Ethan Crenshaw, lifelong friend of the groom.” I recognize him from the rehearsal dinner, but I didn’t get a chance to talk to him. Not only is Dylan’s friend chivalrous, but he has gorgeous green eyes that remind me of Maeve’s, my childhood cat.
I take his hand. “Thank you. That’s very kind.”
“Let me help you to a chair and then I’ll get some ice for your injury. It’ll keep the swelling down,” he announces.
Once I’m positioned at table fourteen in the main ballroom, I watch Ethan walk to the bar. He looks good in a way that suggests he’s comfortable in formal wear, like James Bond. And bam, just like that, I realize I had totally forgotten about the cute groomsman.
When my knight in shining armor—a.k.a. a black tuxedo—returns, he helps prop my foot up on a chair and states, “There’s a nine percent chance of getting injured at a wedding reception.”
As far as opening lines to, it’s not the best. Yet, his previous gallantry more than makes up for it. “That seems to be an awfully high number,” I reply. “I’ve been to almost two hundred weddings so far and this is my first injury. If my calculations are correct, that puts my risk at point five percent, nowhere near your estimate.”
“Two hundred weddings? You must be quite a popular friend.”
I inform him, “I’m a party planner. I’m Jazz’s partner.”
“Ah, well then, surely you’ve had a blister, a burnt finger, or a stiff neck?”
I laugh. “If you’re going to include all the mundane discomforts, I’d think you’d be more accurate to say there’s a hundred percent chance of getting injured at a wedding.”
He shakes his head. “No, only nine percent, unless my research is wrong.” With a pointed look he adds, “Which it never is.”
What kind of person researches injuries at weddings? So, I ask, “What exactly do you do for a living?”
“I’m an actuary. Certainly, not as glamorous a profession as party planning, but it pays the bills.”
I’ve heard the job title, but I have no idea what it entails. Kind of like an ornithologist. I know it’s something. I just don’t know what. At my confused look, he explains, “Insurance companies and brokerage firms hire actuaries to assess the financial risk of investments and people. I currently work at an insurance company and help set rates, based on the statistical probability of natural disasters hitting certain demographics. For instance, earthquake insurance in the Midwest costs you next to nothing compared to what it does in California, for a reason.”
“Huh.” I can’t seem to think of any other response.
“It sounds like a job that could bore the paint off the walls, doesn’t it?” he laughs.
I flirt, “Lucky for me, I like numbers.”
Ethan sits with me for the next three hours while I ice my ankle, ten minutes on and twenty minutes off, as per his suggestion for the best healing effects. As we get to know e
ach other, I watch Jazz flirt and dance with the man who just promised to love her forever.
Dylan is hands down the sweetest, funniest, and most devoted man I’ve ever met. He adores my friend with his whole being and treats her like delicate china, even though she’s not the kind of woman you’d want to sneak up on in a dark alley. Jazzy is one hundred percent Amazon with a touch of Xena Warrior Princess. She and Dylan are perfect for each other.
I was once in love with a man very much like Dylan and it didn’t turn out well, which is why I’m currently in the market for someone more practical. I’m less concerned with grand gestures and flowery compliments, than in a reliable partner who will be there when the chips are down.
Throughout the reception, not only do I discover that Ethan adheres to a strictly regimented life, but I also learn he’s a lovely man. He even offers, “Would you like me to see you safely home? No ulterior motives, I promise.”
“It’s kind of early to leave, don’t you think?” And while he claims no other motivation, I wouldn’t be opposed to a little romance.
He looks at his watch and explains, “I promised my neighbor, Mrs. Fein, I’d look in on her cat while she’s away. Apparently, Fifi suffers from separation anxiety and needs someone to bat her toy mouse around with her before she can go to sleep.”
As the party is winding down, and I can see the staff has everything well in hand, there’s nothing more for me to do. I allow Ethan to escort me home. True to his word, he doesn’t try any funny business. He just gives me a sweet kiss, leaving me wanting more, and asks, “When can I see you again?”
The Relativity Series is also available on Kindle Unlimited!
The Plan: A Sweet and Sexy Rock Star Romantic Comedy (The Creek Water Series Book 3) Page 26
