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“That tactic’s not going to work. I know your game,” I told him, then turned and kept walking.
Luke had always been in my corner… well… until when it mattered most. I wasn’t about to fall for his crap this time, no matter how amazing he looked, or how much his smile turned me to absolute mush. I knew I had to be strong, had to be made of steel, and most important, I couldn’t let their charms get to me, and oh man, did these three ever have the charms.
“Can we go someplace and talk? Just you and me,” he shouted from behind me.
I wanted nothing to do with him or any of them, but I still held on for the exact opposite. They’d always had my heart, and I hated to admit how much I missed them and singing.
Damn it all, but I could already feel my resolve sliding away.
I had a feeling I knew what they wanted, which no doubt included my singing with them again or something close to that. Despite how much I’d enjoyed singing at Dusty’s funeral and had once again allowed myself to skirt the edges of that unattainable dream, I simply didn’t want to go there again… a dangerous threat to the comfy life I’d made for myself here in Cricket.
Still, something deep inside me couldn’t ignore those old dreams, so I decided to give Luke a chance, just to hear what he had to say. Besides, who could say no to that loveable smile of his? Yes, he’d been a shit… they all had… but I couldn’t allow any of that to color what he wanted to say.
I prided myself on being an accepting kind of person, and this situation I found myself in was no different.
I would try to listen with an open mind… at least until he said something outrageous… which could be at any moment. I was prepared to totally shut him down.
“Fine,” I told him. “We can sit on a bench for a few minutes, but then I have to get back to work.”
“You just walked out.”
“I’m taking a break.”
I quickly sent a text to Jen asking her to please take over my tables for a few minutes. I knew she’d do it without a problem. We covered for each other all the time.
“Okay, then let’s make the most of this time. A bench it is. There’s one right behind you in front of that amazing red Caddy. My dad would kill for that car.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Love the horns. They’re so… big.”
“Five feet, two inches from tip to tip.”
“Wait… isn’t that your height?”
“Exactly.”
“This looks like one of Dusty’s cars. Is it?”
I shrugged.
My phone buzzed with a text from Jen, telling me to take my time. She had it covered. I loved working with her. We always had each other’s backs, no matter what.
He gazed over at me. “Why is it parked here? Don’t tell me this is yours. That Dusty left this beauty to you.” He couldn’t seem to get the last word out. “What the hell, Connie?”
I shrugged. “He did, but I still haven’t decided to keep it. I have two more weeks to either give Dusty’s family the keys and title or claim it as my own.”
The paperwork had made it very clear; either I embraced the car, agreed to drive it, and take good care of it, or I could return it to Dusty’s son Tylor, who was more than willing to fold it back into the estate that he intended to sell. The good thing in all of this was that Jade Whitaker, the local lawyer who handled my cousin Shea’s estate, was also Dusty’s lawyer. Apparently, she also maintained an office in Sweet Whiskey. There was another lawyer in that office, but I hadn’t met that person, so I only dealt with Jade. I knew she wanted me to take everything that Dusty had left me, even though she hadn’t come out and said as much, but I wasn’t so sure it was a good idea.
So far, I’d been leaning towards giving it back even though the rebellious side of me wanted to keep it just because I knew Dusty would want me to. His grandson Booker was a sweetheart, but Booker’s dad was a son of a bitch that I didn’t much care for. I had a feeling Dusty wanted to keep this car away from his son who didn’t care about anything except all the money Dusty’s estate would bring him.
There was also a ranch, which Dusty had also apparently left me, but I didn’t want to know about it. Way too much responsibility compounded with everything else I had to do.
Dusty had one son and one grandchild. His son, the executor of the will, was a true shit, while Booker was more like Dusty. Too bad Tylor was the executor and not Booker, but I supposed that Dusty had his reasons.
Still, I didn’t know what Dusty could have been thinking by leaving his big-horned, Eldorado to me. The car represented everything I wasn’t.
Luke walked over to it, while I took a seat on the wooden park bench.
