7. Margeaux
7
MARGEAUX
Cute, sweet Marisela Hernandez chatters on at an Olympic pace, one hand firmly wrapped around her water glass, the other gently draped across the barely noticeable baby bump she’s proudly showing off. If it weren’t for her drawing attention to it, I don’t think I would have noticed. Which is probably why she’s perched herself in such a position on the barstool, facing mostly outward toward the crowd.
She is clearly ready to be the center of attention.
I’m more than happy to let her be. In fact, it’s nice to have a break in the conversation—if you can call the one-sided babbling conversation—with every person who comes to comment on the bump. Especially since my mind is a lot more preoccupied with a much more important topic.
Tacos.
And how they are not the gateway drug to a fun-filled not-a-date kind of evening. Nope, not even close.
Because my plan backfired.
Yes, apparently friends can ask friends for dinner recommendations. Friends can also have long, fun, even borderline flirty text conversations about tacos, their ingredients, and what may or may not be appropriate to eat in polite company. One friend asking the other to join them for tacos is apparently a bridge too far, however.
Who knew.
“So, what did you end up doing last night?" Alex, Marisela’s husband, asks, redirecting the conversation back to where we started twenty minutes ago.
“Oh, umm…tacos,” I answer. See, very single-track mind here.
“Tacos? In Hickory Hills?” Marisela asks.
“No, I drove over to a little place in Merritt?” I think that was the name of the town. Truth be told, I think it was smaller than Hickory Hills, which is saying something. Honest to God, blink and you would have missed this place. But damn, the food was good.
“Jiminez, we know the place. They help with the peaches some summers,” Alex says. “How’d you find them?”
“Oh, they were recommended by?—”
“Gus Hayes,” Alex cuts me off.
“Yeah, how’d you?—”
“Alex.”
The deep timbre of Gus’s Georgia drawl vibrates through me, sending goose bumps up my skin. I have to stop myself from visibly shivering, not wanting to give away that he has such an effect on me.
Friends, we’re just friends…
“You guys had a pretty slick design this year. Have to admit, didn’t think it was going to work,” Alex says with a wink, tipping his beer in Gus’s direction.
“That’s the beauty of a well-engineered device.”
I look between the two of them, trying to pick up some clue as to what’s going on, but neither one gives me anything. Neither of them breaks from their serious demeanor either. Meaning I’m missing something. Something big .
“Oh, lay off it!” Marisela says, swatting at her husband. Leaning into me, she rolls her eyes. “It’s the pinewood derby.”
The what?!
Both men crack, throwing their heads back laughing. Clinking their glasses together, they salute each other, their broad smiles giving off a welcoming feeling. The pinewood derby. Who would have guessed.
“Really,” Gus continues. “And I’ll never admit this in front of my team, but I think we got a little lucky. When they told me they wanted to make it look like a gorilla, all I could think was ‘well, maybe we’ll win most original this year.’ Keepin’ that thing under five ounces was a challenge.”
“I bet,” Alex comments.
“The big event was last night,” Marisela explains. “The entire fifth grade at Hickory Hills Primary participates. They split the kids into teams of three and then a volunteer from the community acts as their advisor. And despite how these two are talking, neither of them won it.”
“Hey now, my team came in top ten!” Gus defends. “And we were a finalist for most original. Lost to whoever Bluey is.”
“A very beloved cartoon character,” I tell him.
He quirks an eyebrow up at me, surprised by my knowledge.
“Three-year-old nephew. The Finnegans are big Bluey fans.”
He nods, taking a long sip of his beer, eyes meeting mine. He holds my gaze, as if he’s committing the information to memory, sending a tingle through me.
I let the feeling settle in me, along with the knowledge that his brushing me off with the excuse of already having a commitment last night was the truth. That it wasn’t a line to put distance between us. I smile, and for a split second consider telling him that he should have let me know what his plans were, that I would have picked up tacos for the both of us and brought them to the derby to support him and his team. But I stop myself. Because maybe that’s more than what he wants.
More than what friends would do. At least at this stage of friendship.
But then he winks at me, and fuck if I don’t forget my own name.
“Oh, there’s the Farlows. We should go say hi.” Marisela pops off her stool, then stops. “Oh, wait…”
“Go,” Gus tells her, stepping into me, putting his arm around the back of my barstool. The heat from his body wraps around me in an instant, my insides responding like a homing beacon. “I’ll keep her company.”
I don’t bother to hide my smile as they leave, knowing they won’t see it. Hell, even if they do, I don’t care. I’m too excited that Gus is standing so close. And for alone time with him.
Not wasting a second, he swings around and slides into the empty stool, dragging his hand down my side, leaving a trail of heat from his touch. I suck in a deep breath, treasuring the feel of it and committing it to memory, knowing that it’s probably all I’m going to get for a very long time. If not ever.
“Seems like we’ve been here before.”
“Does feel a little familiar.”
“Maybe I should have asked if this seat was taken.”
“Depends.”
“On?”
I smirk, my heart soaring. Everything about this feels good. Natural. Same as it did that day in JFK.
“Do you plan on selling me something, askin’ about my relationship with the Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, or mansplainin’ anything to me in any way? ”
Gus bites back a laugh, but his face quickly morphs into that same mock serious glare he gave me in the airport bar.
“No addendum about hitting on you?”
No, because that would be welcome…
“Not today.”
“Well then…” He smirks. “No ma’am, I still don’t have anything to sell, I still trust that your relationship with the Lord is what you want it to be, and I still know better than to mansplain. You’ve met my sister.”
I throw my head back, letting loose a laugh that I couldn’t control if I tried. Not that I want to. Because holy shit, does this feel good. Too good. Maybe the best I’ve ever felt.
“I have. And she’s as fascinatingly entertaining and devious as you described.”
“You don’t know the half it.”
I beam, hoping he knows just how much I want to know the half of it. The whole of it, actually. How much I want to be a part of all of this. Even if it is just in friendship form.
“Speaking of said sister, she threatened to introduce me to everyone tonight.” I press my lips together, hoping that I can silently convey just how unsure I am about what exactly that means.
“Were those her exact words? Everyone?”
I nod.
Gus mimics my nod for a second, then reaches for my pint glass. “You’re gonna need another drink.” Sniffing my glass, he makes a face like he wasn’t expecting the result, then flags down the gal at the tap. “Brenna, we need another Silver Lining Sour and a… actually, make that two Silver Linings, please.”
“You make it seem like I’m about to be put up in front of the firing squad,” I say with a laugh.
Taking the beer from the same brunette who blew through Bronwyn’s office the other day, Gus hands me one. I take a sip, letting the tart flavor roll over my tongue, and relax into the moment. I don’t know how much time Gus and I are going to get just the two of us before we’re interrupted again, and I want to savor every second of it.
“You might prefer that,” he jokes. I playfully smack his arm, and he laughs, the sound like the perfect background music. “It’ll all come down to who is in what mood, and how much they want to embarrass me. Willa should at least be on her best behavior while here. She wouldn’t do that to Milo?—”
“I dunno, isn’t this where she got into that catfight?” a female voice cuts Gus off.
My head whips around to find a curvy blonde, her hair pulled back into a ponytail, looking at Gus like he’s going to know the answer. Standing next to her is a tall, dark-haired man who looks enough like Gus to tell me he’s another Hayes, although that’s where the similarities end. His scruffy face looks more like he simply hasn’t shaven in a couple of days, rather than he chooses to keep a beard. His arms are covered in tattoos, and there are even small gauges in his ears.
“Forgot about that,” Gus mutters.
“And we’re absolutely going to embarrass you,” his brother adds. The blonde elbows him, but all that does is make the burly guy chuckle, his smile growing even wider. His very disarming smile. That must be a Hayes special.
“Hi, I’m Dolly McLain, and this oaf is Hux.”
“Huxley Hayes. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” He takes my hand, lifting it and kissing my knuckles gently, as if we were back in the 1860s and he were being presented at court.
I can all but feel Gus roll his eyes next to me, and it takes everything in me not to look over at him. Instead, I keep my focus on Hux and the adorable, bubbly blonde next to him .
“Margeaux Finnegan. But I bet y’all knew that.”
“Nope, but we have a picnic table outside. Come join us!” Dolly grabs my hand and yanks me off my stool before I can object.
I look back over my shoulder at Gus, who is already grabbing our drinks, nodding at me to follow. Okay then. I let Dolly lead the way, weaving us through the crowd and out the large garage-style door to the backyard area of Pour Decisions. A long open-air picnic shelter-like structure spans the open field between the bar and the brewhouse, a little more than a dozen wooden tables spread out underneath the covered area. From what I was told at the office, Southern Brothers finished up construction on this addition over the summer, creating the new outdoor space for the brewery.
“Look who I found!” Dolly announces.
“Margeaux!” Willa exclaims. Pushing to her feet, she rushes over and wraps her arms around me. Her gesture catches me off guard, but I embrace her back, enjoying the camaraderie.
“Willa…” a low warning voice calls from the table, but she doesn’t let go.
“Retract the claws there, Wills,” Gus adds from behind us.
I can’t help but chuckle as Willa pulls back, sneering over my shoulder. Brandishing her nails in a mocking cat swipe, she looks back at me and shakes her head.
“Probably can’t convince you to ignore him, huh?” she whispers so only I can hear.
“Not a chance,” I respond.
“Good.” She winks. “Now come meet everyone. Well, almost everyone.”
Ten minutes later, my head is spinning as I try to remember all the names and faces.
Willa and Bronwyn quickly introduce me to their partners—all but identical twins, Nash and Noel Keller. Other than telling them apart, I think they’re the only ones I might remember. The rest? Forget it.
No, that’s not true, because Willa did apologize multiple times that Kenzie and Dustin Wilder—who is also apparently country mega star Dustin Wild—aren’t in town this weekend, but assured me that I’ll meet them at some point. That fact left me a little dumbfounded.
As did the discovery that Hux and Dolly apparently are not a couple, despite my assumption based on how they were acting when they introduced themselves. That ring on her hand belongs to someone else. Ooops.
By the time I park myself on a bench next to Dolly and across from Alice Evans, who I met the other morning when I stopped by Oh, My Lard! for a cup of coffee, and a gal named Emily—whose last name I already forgot—I feel like I’ve been introduced to the whole damn town. All I can do is pray there won’t be a test later. Because clearly, I’m going to fail.
My nerves ease as Gus slides into the open spot next to me, resting his hand on the small of my back. I lean into it, letting the small connection between us be enough. It has to be. I can be part of this circle, a member of this tribe, but nothing more. Not as long as he’s the boss.
“Overwhelmed yet?” His breath tickles the shell of my ear, making my pulse jump. I fight the urge to lean into him, wanting nothing more than to be just like these other couples at the tables.
“It’s gonna take me a bit to learn everyone.”
“I’m sure it’d be the same if I came to New Orleans.”
Damn, is that a happy thought…
I sigh, liking that idea way too much.
“Not even close. My mother is Renee, my father is Liam, my middle brother is David, his wife is Callie, and they have my nephew, Sam. Baby brother is Louis. Then my grandfather, the one who runs the restaurant, is Remy. But we all call him Papa Duck, which is also the name of the restaurant, by the way. And that’s all you’d have to know.”
“Pretty sure I can remember that.”
I hope so…
“Wait, did you just say your grandfather is Papa Duck?”
I look over at Dolly, who is staring at me as if I told her that I was there for the birth of Jesus. I nod, confirming what she heard.
“Yeah. You’ve heard of him?”
“Are you kidding me? Magic’s in the air! Can’t you feel it?”
I laugh. “Nailed it!”
“Huh?” Gus asks.
“That’s what Papa Duck says while cooking. Like Emeril’s ‘bam!’ Not that my grandfather is Emeril or anything. But people apparently ate it up after it aired on TV—pun intended. And yes, before you ask, it’s trademarked.”
“Didn’t doubt it for a second.”
“I made this one drive me to New Orleans after the episode of Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives because I wanted to try those cheddar hush puppies!” Dolly says, pointing to Hux. “I was willing to trade my sausage rolls for them, but the guy behind the counter wasn’t having it.”
I chuckle, knowing without asking that was David. “I bet we can make a deal.”
“Seriously? You have the power?”
I nod. “I do.”
“OMG! That’d be incredible. I really want to update Dolly’s menu.” She must notice the confused look on my face, because she backs up to explain. “I own the small breakfast place here in town. I took it over from my grandmother, who named it after herself. The menu is the same as when she ran it, and really needs a refresh. But that’s a post-wedding project.”
“When’s the big day?” I ask, trying to be polite. My question seems to be the wrong one though, since out of the corner of my eye I see Hux shift uncomfortably, and Gus moves his hand to my thigh, squeezing lightly. Even Willa makes a face.
I look to him, hoping to find an answer to why all the Hayeses just went awkward, but his features betray nothing. Dolly, however, beams.
“April, finally. It’s been three years.”
“That’s not that long, is it?”
“I guess not in the grand scheme of things. But we were together for more than three years before he proposed, and now we’ve been engaged for another three so…I’m just ready to finally be married.”
I swallow hard, trying to hold back my reaction. I know I don’t do a good job, since Willa nods, confirming the judgment that is clearly written all over my face.
The trill of a phone pierces the air and Dolly jumps. “Oh, speak of the devil. Be right back!”
“He’s the devil alright,” Hux mutters, as Dolly answers her phone and walks away to talk.
“It’s okay, you can judge,” Gus tells me.
“No, I wasn’t judging?—”
“Judge away. We all do,” Willa cuts me off. “You’re part of the family now. It’s a whole thing here. Gus can catch you up. But basically, since Hux didn't get on that, we just deal with it.”
“We’re just friends,” Hux snaps.
“Sure you are…” Gus comments. Willa rolls her eyes, slapping Hux on the back, the both of them obviously not believing him. Hell, I’m not sure I believe him and I’ve only spent one evening with the two of them .
“Look, it’s sundown somewhere, and the perfect girl is just waitin’ on?—”
“Just friends,” Willa prods, cutting Hux off, unable to let it go. “You know, you could maybe be more than just friends, if you…”
Hux abruptly leaps to his feet, shaking the whole table, rattling the pint glasses on top. Willa shrieks, all of us lurching backward in reaction. Huffing out a breath, he climbs out from the bench, glaring at his little sister.
“I don’t need relationship advice from a little sister who spent ten years sneaking around.”
Oh shit…
I turn to Gus, searching for answers. “What did I miss?”
Squeezing my thigh again, he shifts, adjusting himself so he’s straddling the bench facing me. The rest of the bar, all his friends and family, fall away until there isn’t anyone but him and me left as he stares into my eyes. Those deep-green irises soften the longer he holds my gaze, right along with my resolve not to crawl into his lap.
“Lots. And I feel like I’m missing even more where you’re concerned.”
“Whatcha wanna know?”
“Everything.”
Everything…me too…
“But for right now. I think I’m done sharing you with the rest of Hickory Hills.”
“Then what do you say to walking me home?”