Page 60 of When There Was You
What doesthatmean? I absolutely cannot fixate on any of this now. Turning to Gus, I plaster a smile on my face, trying to exude the energy ofcrack reporter. “Please continue.”
Gus navigates through the remainder of the tour, pointing out projects in progress and acknowledging the handful of workers he employs. When we land back in his office, I pull out my tape recorder and notepad and begin firing off questions.
The phone on his desk buzzes, and I pause the interview while he answers.
“We’ll head over, my love,” he says. Hanging up, he flashes a grin. “Lunch is ready. Let’s grab Butch and you can meet my better half.”
His obvious affection for his wife is just as endearing in person.
I brace myself for coming face to face with Mr. Lumberjack again—and the entire luncheon stretching before us. My nerves wrestle like a bucket of snakes.
“Butch, lunchtime,” Gus barks.
Judging by the size of Butch’s beaming smile, he’s only too happy to join us.
“My son will fill you in on other projects this afternoon. He manages the day-to-day operations now. I mostly just get in his way.”
“Whenisthe last time you held a wrench, old man?” Butch teases, knocking his shoulder into his fathers’.
Gus gives him a sidelong glance. “Watch it. I can still tan your hide with one hand tied behind my back,” he threatens good-naturedly.
Butch leans closer to my ear, speaking loud enough for his father to hear. “We’ll let him believe all the lies he needs.”
Gus guffaws. “You might be younger and stronger, Junior, but I’m smarter—and not afraid to fight dirty.”
“Don’t I know it.” Butch grins down at me, all six foot four of him or whatever he is, as we reach the walkway to the farmhouse.
“Junior?” I inquire, directly to Mr. Hamilton. Butch groans.
“I’m Augustus James Hamilton Sr., and this chip off the ol’ block is Jr. I’m more handsome, of course.”
I can’t stifle my delighted grin. Butch isAugustus. But now I’m confused. “So, why Butch?”
“It’s a nickname,” Mr. Tall, Dark, and Emerald-Eyed interjects. “Common ’round these parts when you share the same name.” He leans closer to my ear, whispering, “And preferable when you don’t want to be called Augustus.”
“I doubt I can resist.”
“Sure you can, Gold Rush.”
I like the sound of that leaving his lips—in fact, all his nicknames for me—and for a second his lips are all I fantasize about as we stare at each other like two hungry wolves. My gaze darts forward, attempting to douse the rising inferno this man creates with one heated look.
The splendor of the family’s well-tended gardenconsumes my full attention, then the grand porch as we ascend its wide, painted stairway. Matching color bathes the floor while a light shade of blue dusts the beadboard ceiling. A swing for two hangs from one end, with ample inviting furniture arranged stylishly elsewhere. Potted plants add to the ambiance, and I surmise it’s all the work of the woman I’m about to meet.
I’m meeting the parents of my one-night stand.Can this day get any more surreal?
Butch opens the door, holding it for me to walk through. I scarcely have time to take in the foyer when a woman bursts forth, wiping her fingers on a skirt apron, a welcoming smile on her face.
“I’m Jerri Hamilton,” she says, extending her hand. It’s clear where Butch inherited those beautiful green eyes. She’s striking, and between her and Gus, their son got the best of both parents.
“Jacqui Hall. Thank you for inviting me to lunch.”
She waves a hand. “It’s my pleasure. You’ve come all this way to write about my two favorite men. And lord knows they will bore you to tears talking about cars. I’m sure you’re ready for a reprieve.”
I laugh. “Actually…”
She tilts her head. “You’re a car gal?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I admit a tad sheepishly. I sense Butch’s eyes boring into me. “But I’d love to hear about your garden and this gorgeous home.”
