Page 61 of When There Was You
“How long you staying? I can talk aboutthatfor hours.” She smiles, her southern lilt adding a layer of warmth.
Mrs. Hamilton steers us to the informal dining area off the kitchen, and Butch holds a chair for me, the same as his father does for his mother. Yep, surreal.
A sizable lunch spread fills the table on both sides of a lazy Susan holding condiments and an open jar of sweet pickles speared with a miniature serving fork.
“Butch and Jacqui already know each other,” Gus says as he swipes two pieces of fried chicken from the oval platter.
“Really? How and when did y’all meet?” Jerri asks, offering me corn bread.
“Um…I was in town for a job interview, and he happened to be in Richmond at the same time.” I take a warm square and pass the basket to Butch, who smiles like he has a million secrets.
“Jacqui,” he emphasizes, throwing back that he knows my real name, “and I met at a bar and wound up talking for hours. Once she stopped that incessant foot-tapping, if I recall.”
I kick him under the table, attempting to wipe thatincessantsmirk off his face.
“Green beans?” A serving bowl balances on his huge hand, and I accept it with a saccharine smile.
“Isn’t that something?” Jerri muses. “Small world.”
“This is delicious,” I say, steering us off the topic. “If it’s not too personal a question, how did you and Gus meet? He said his family has lived here for generations.”
“I love a how-you-met story,” Butch interjects, resting his chin on his hand. “It’s the kind of thing you can’t wait to tell your kids someday.”
While his parents stare adoringly at each other, I shoot him a death glare. He fights a laugh, toying with me and thoroughly enjoying it.
“It’s actually a funny story,” Gus says, only too happy to regale us with it. “Jerri worked at the local diner, and the first time I saw her, I became a smitten fool. When I asked her on a date, she turned me down flat.”
Jerri’s grin serves as corroboration.
“I went in there every day for a month. You know how much pie I ate? Gained five pounds trying to woo my future wife.” He chuckles to himself. “I asked her out each time, andeach time, I struck out. Can you believe that? A charmer like me?”
“Why did you say no?” I ask Jerri.
She wrinkles her nose. “He was a mechanic. I had lofty goals and assumed he wouldn’t be a good provider.”
“But then I found her stranded on the side of a country road, blown radiator still steaming, and suddenly, I looked like a knight in shining armor.” Gus gets a devilish glint in his eye. “I told her I wouldn’t help her unless she agreed to a date.”
“Blackmail,” Jerri confirms.
“Leverage,” Gus corrects.
Jerri chuckles, eyes bright as she listens. In my periphery, Butch’s fondness for both parents is obvious in his expression…and my chest twinges.
“The rest, as they say, is history,” Gus concludes. “I’m more in love with this woman every minute, and I thank my lucky stars she agreed to be my wife.”
After lunch,Butch guides me back to the garage, chatting up the business along the way. The door snicks closed behind us, and I’m acutely aware we’re alone. The air couldn’t be more charged, and Mr. Lumberjack steals what’s left of mine.
“Not to be unprofessional,” he says, backing me against the wall, “but do you want to merge our lips together as much as I do?”
Yes. No. I shouldn’t.
“No,” I manage, unconvincingly.
“Really?” he purrs in my ear, and I gasp, my stomach somersaulting. “I’m getting mixed signals.”
My heart rate ratchets up forty notches, my chest heaving at his deep, toe-curling timbre.
The scruff of his beard grazes my neck. How I remember that welcome burn. “You sure?”
