Chapter Ten #3
If the strawberry taste in her mouth and the weird thumping of her heart were any indication, whatever it was he was doing, he was definitely doing it right.
And based on the way Kaci was grinning, she knew it.
But it wasn’t until after the pie was in the oven that she realized Jackson hadn’t told her where he’d gone when he left her alone in his kitchen. But then, she hadn’t told him about her biscuits either.
They’d been too busy talking about her peaches.
Jackson didn’t know he was a pie man until that long spell between the best pies he’d ever tasted. Those funny notes she kept sending him had him intrigued, but if he were the kind of man to fall in love, it would’ve been the peach pie that did him in.
Her ex-husband was a lug-head to walk away from Anna Grace’s pies.
Thoughts like that made him glad he’d gotten out of the kitchen when he had. But then he’d gone and snagged the seat next to Anna when the ribs came off the grill, and with her eating that peach pie right next to him, he was getting ideas he shouldn’t be having. Not with hunting season coming on.
“—And I swear on my daddy’s grave,” Kaci was saying, “that pumpkin landed plum smack in the middle of a pig farm. Went half a mile if it went an inch. My momma’s face ’bout near turned purple when that old pig farmer showed up with half a hog carcass and a bill for the rest of it.”
“Now, did you aim the trebuchet, or did your friend?” Anna asked.
Kaci tossed a napkin at her.
“Decent question,” Jackson said.
“What about you, Bubba?” Lance said. “Seem to recall you had a few good tales.”
Anna’s eyes narrowed at him. He had a feeling she was onto him. And he wasn’t entirely disappointed.
He did like his competition smart.
He took another bite of pie and tried to stay on the earthly plane. Damn good pie.
She was ruining him for biscuits. She really was.
“Yeah,” he finally said, “I got a couple good ones.”
“Which one’s your favorite?” Anna asked. She had a sparkle in her eyes, like she expected him to refuse to tell it.
He wasn’t one to disappoint a lady. “Dunno about that, Anna Grace. Stories like that, you gotta earn ’em.”
She fiddled with the pie server, stroked a finger down the handle. He felt a familiar tightening down south.
He’d gotten a good number of biscuit offers back in Auburn this summer, but not one of them had grabbed his attention like she did.
Her voice went low and husky. “Pretty sure I’ve earned this one.”
Kaci snickered.
“She’s got a point, Bubba,” Lance said.
“That’s how it’s gonna be, is it?” Jackson leaned back in the chair, crossed his ankle over his knee, and reached back to a few memories he held close.
“Reckon I was about fifteen or so,” he said.
“Had a friend who liked to have some fun. Get creative. Give our mommas heart attacks. So one day we were hanging out, and we started talking about what we were gonna be when we grew up.”
“What were you going to be?” Anna asked.
Jackson scratched his head. “Hadn’t rightly decided yet, but Craig, he said he was gonna fly rocket ships to the moon. So I got to thinking, and I told him we could build a rocket right in our own backyard.”
Kaci leaned forward. “Did you?”
“Tried real hard,” Jackson said. “Tell you what, if that old Hoover of Momma’s had as much suction power as those commercials said, we would’ve done it on the first round. Instead, we had to amp that sucker up and give her more power.”
Kaci was near salivating. Lance shot him a dirty look, probably because Jackson’s rocket story was bigger. Anna Grace, though, was sucking her lips in like she was afraid she’d laugh before the punch line.
“How far did it go?” Kaci breathed. “Did it blow up?”
“Made it high as my granddaddy’s oak tree if it made it an inch. Would’ve gone further, but Craig’s astronaut steered like a girl.”
“Your momma,” Kaci said. “You break any arms or legs?”
“Nah, but little Eunice wasn’t ever the same.”
“You put your dog in the rocket?” Lance said.
“Shucks, no. It was some old Cabbage Patch Kid. ‘Course, Momma was madder’n a wet hen over that too. Ruined her Hoover and broke a good doll.”
A whimpery laugh slipped out between Anna’s lips.
Figured she’d like that, since she managed to make vague references to his momma every few notes.
“She blister your backside?” Kaci asked.
Jackson chuckled. “Nah. Daddy handled us instead.” Sent Craig home to Russ for a whooping, then sat Jackson down, looked over that old modified engine sitting there in the backyard, and said, Son, you owe your momma a new vacuum.
Then I don’t care what it costs, you’re going to space camp this summer.
Long as I got breath in my body, I ain’t gonna let you waste those smarts you got.
“So you fly planes now?” Anna asked.
He shook his head. “No waiver for what I’ve got.”
Her brow wrinkled.
“Damn shame,” Lance said.
Anna Grace’s wrinkle got wrinklier.
Jackson flicked a mosquito off his arm. “Don’t you worry none,” he said to Anna. “Doctors say I got at least six months.”
He was working up a little guilt for the way her eyes went wide when Kaci smacked him in the shoulder. “Don’t you be falling for that old line,” she said to Anna. “He ain’t dying, he’s color-blind.”
Jackson looked at Lance, who grinned. “Sorry, Bubba.”
“Your turn, Anna Grace,” Jackson said. “You got any fishing stories?”
She had that devil look going again.
She did it good.
“You betcha,” she said.
But she wouldn’t tell, and it was getting late. They carried their dishes in and got the kitchen mostly put to rights. Anna made like she was heading for home.
Lance tilted his head toward her, but Jackson was already on it.
“Let me get that door for you, Anna Grace.”
She did that cute thing where she tried to look like she didn’t want help and didn’t want him to see her smile about it. “Afraid your momma’s going to hear you let a lady walk to her car by herself?”
He pulled the door open. “More like wondering if you’ll let me get away with it.”
She puffed herself up a couple of inches and marched outside.
“Didn’t hurt a bit, now did it?” He tucked his hands in his pockets and moseyed beside her.
Her lips were fighting another smile. “Thank you.”
“You feel that, Anna Grace? That’s progress. I’m real proud of you.”
This time she smiled all the way. Between that smile and her pie, he needed to keep hunting season in mind. Didn’t like it when he couldn’t get away any old weekend he liked.
“Are you always this old-fashioned, or are you trying to goad me?” Anna asked.
“Shucks, ma’am, ain’t nothing old-fashioned about manners.”
“I suppose not.”
“But if you were thinking to reward me for good behavior with your phone number, well, now, I sure wouldn’t be put out.”
She laughed. “You wouldn’t, huh?”
“No, ma’am.”
She paused beside her car and leaned into him. He smelled peaches and pool water and perfection, and he had to concentrate on breathing steady. “Yes, ma’am?”
She crooked a finger. “I need to tell you a secret.”
Hell with hunting season.
“Sometimes,” she whispered, her breath tickling his ear and most of the rest of his body all at the same time, “a girl appreciates a guy for who he is, instead of who he’s pretending to be.”
She pulled away and held out her hand while he was still puzzling out if she’d just confessed to liking him. “Let me see your phone,” she said.
He handed it over and she typed away on it, tilting it so he couldn’t see what she was doing. After a minute, she handed it back to him. “If you can find it, you can use it.”
He coughed back a chuckle. “That a comment on my technical skills or my puzzlin’ skills?”
“Do you frequently have trouble using your equipment?”
“Don’t reckon you’ll know unless I find that number.”
Her cheeks flushed so dark they blended into the night. “That’s a very good point.”
“Reckon a girl with your organizational skills still has my number.”
“Oh, I kept it. In case I ever needed an exterminator again.”
Funny girl, that Anna Grace.
He stepped away from her car, because she’d found her flirting words tonight, but the way she kept hugging that door told him she wasn’t ready for following through.
That was okay with him. He’d waited thirty-three years to find out he was a pie man. He could wait a while longer to find out what else she could teach him. “You have a nice evening, Anna Grace.”
She winked at him. “You have a nice time hunting for that number.”
It took some effort, but he waited all the way until her taillights disappeared before he tried. And when he finally found it, he wouldn’t even tell Radish how long it took. But he did get a good laugh out of it.
My Favorite Yankee, she’d labeled herself.
He couldn’t argue with that.