Walking on Sunshine (24 page)

Sweet Surrender

M
ATTIE STOOD ON THE EXPANDED DEC
K OF HER RESTAU
rant and smiled at Garret. “I ordered the bistro tables. I thought that I wanted blue umbrellas, but then I decided I wanted a variety of colors to represent the vibrant storefronts that inspired me on Portobello Road. What do you think?”

Garret wrapped his arms around her waist from behind and hugged her close. “I adore the idea. I'm amazed at how much you've accomplished in the month that we've been back in Cricket Creek.”

“I've talked to Mabel at Grammar's Bakery about providing croissants and pastries. I showed her the pictures of Hummingbird Bakery in London and how they display their cupcakes. We're thinking about adding gourmet cupcakes in the future. Maybe only one day a week to keep it special.” She pointed to the grassy area to the side of the restaurant. “I want to have a farmers' market in the fall during harvest, and Gabby at Flower Power said she'd love to sell flowers in the spring. Laura Lee is going to plant an herb garden,” she said. “And she agreed to manage the restaurant while we're in London
for three months while you film the next season of
Sing for Me
.”

Garret kissed her on top of the head. “I hoped she would. I think she really enjoys it too.”

“And I think it's hilarious that Shane is insisting that he'll come back as the short-order cook. Not only that, but Shane has been talking to Mason about the possibility of establishing a craft brewery. Is that cool or what?”

“It is, darling. Having this deck built while we were away was brilliant on your part.”

“I knew if we were going to make this work I had to learn to do things from London. And of course I was inspired by something new every day. Who knew I was so creative?”

Garret spun her around and gave her a lingering kiss. “I had a pretty good idea. You amaze me, Mattie.”

“It's all coming together, isn't it?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Well, I have one more surprise.”

Garret reached down and took her hand. “What, love?”

“I'm changing the name from Breakfast, Books, and Bait to Walking on Sunshine.”

Garret brought her hand to his mouth and kissed it. “Perfect.”

Mattie smiled but then said, “You seem a bit distracted. Is everything okay?”

“I do have something on my mind. Can we have a chat over a cup of coffee?”

“Sure. I just made a pot of the new morning blend I've wanted to try. Let's go inside before the painters get here.”

“Good idea.”

“I'm hoping to reopen in a month.” She worried her bottom lip and looked at him.

“Oh, I think you'll make your goal.”

Once they were inside, Mattie poured a cup of coffee for him and then turned to get another mug. When he reached for the sugar canister he stopped and said, “Odd, but there's something on my spoon. Care to have a look?”

Mattie put the carafe down and looked at the silver spoon. She saw something glitter and catch the light. Her breath caught and her gaze flew back to his face. “Oh my . . .”

Garret got down on one knee. “Mattie, will you marry me?”

Mattie felt tears spring into her eyes and she could only nod. “Yes,” she managed, and he slipped the diamond solitaire ring onto her finger. She held her hand up and looked at it. “Garret, it's stunning. I . . . I love it.” She threw her arms around his neck. “I love you!”

“And I love you, Mattie.” He spun her around and then kissed her. “You make me so very happy.”

She looked down at the ring and smiled. “Let's go tell the whole world!”

Garret laughed. “I thought you'd say that. Let's go!”

They walked outside just in time to see Rusty heading for the dock. The little runabout was heading out for the day and he watched with a forlorn expression while the boat chugged through the cove.

“At least he doesn't jump in anymore,” Garret said.

Mattie nodded. “I don't think he'll ever give up hope, though.” But just as Rusty started to turn around, Abigail gave a sharp bark, drawing his attention . . .

And then she took a flying leap off the back of the boat and landed with a delicate little splash. Rusty pranced around on the dock and then jumped in the water, meeting Abigail halfway. They swam for shore, shook the water off, and then frolicked around in the grass, looking blissfully happy.

“I guess the lesson is to never give up on love,” Garret said.

“It's a running theme in this town. From baseball stadiums to recording studios, there's evidence of it everywhere.”

Garret grinned and then pulled her close. “And now there's us. Brilliant.”

Don't miss the next charming novel

in LuAnn McLane's Cricket Creek series,

 

WRITTEN IN THE STARS

 

Available in October 2015 from Signet Eclipse.

The Eye of the Storm

“S
IRI
, I
HAVE
NOT
AR
RIVED
!” G
RACE
G
ORDON
T
UCKED
A
lock of her windblown blond hair behind her ear and sighed. “This is getting super annoying.” She held the phone close to her mouth and spoke slowly and clearly. “Walking on Sunshine Bistro at Mayfield Marina, Cricket Creek, Kentucky.”

“The destination is on your left. You have arrived.”

“No! A big red building is on my left! There isn't a bistro or marina in sight.” With her free hand, Grace gripped the steering wheel of her rented convertible and teetered on tears of frustration. “You suck,” she said to Siri, but then winced. “Sorry,” she said quickly, and then remembered that she was talking to a computer-generated voice.

“No need to be sorry,” Siri said.

“Okay, that was a little creepy,” Grace mumbled, and tossed the phone over onto the passenger seat. Pressing her lips together, she gripped the steering wheel with both hands while wondering what to do next.

When her phone pinged, Grace reached for it, hoping it was her sister answering the million texts she'd sent
her over the past hour. “I should have known,” Grace said as she read a message from her mother asking if she'd arrived safely. “No! I'm completely lost,” she said while she typed with her thumbs.

Of course, her mother immediately called. Becca Gordon always stepped in when her children needed her. She could usually calm down Grace's mild-mannered sister, Sophia, but Grace was more like her half brother, Garret . . . a handful and then some. She missed Garret too!

“Gracie, love, you should have been there by now. Am I right?”

“Mum, what don't you understand about
I'm lost
?” Grace drew out the word
lost
for a few seconds. “As in, I don't know where in the world I'm at except it's somewhere in Kentucky.”

Her mother chucked softly. “Oh, Gracie . . .”

“It isn't funny!” Grace tipped her face up to the sky just as a bird flew by and pooped on her jeans leg. She let out a squeal of anger.

“Oh come on, darling, it's not that bad.”

“Really? A bird just . . . just had the nerve to
crap
on me!” She looked around for a napkin from her unhealthy fast-food lunch. Right, the napkin and wrapper had fluttered out of the convertible like butterfly wings, making her feel all kinds of guilt.

Her mother laughed harder.

“Mum! Seriously? What's so funny about my misery?”

“Well, for starters, you revert to an English accent when you get angry or upset. I'm sorry. I just find it rather amusing.”

“Seriously? Have you forgotten that you're English and I've lived with you in London for the past two years? That I've traveled back and forth to England all of my life?”

“No, darling, I might be in my fifties, but I'm not forgetful yet. And I've not forgotten that you can get turned around in your own backyard.”

“It makes going on a holiday an adventure, and I've
discovered some really cool places, taking the road less traveled,” Grace said a bit defensively but had to grin. “And you were often with me.”

“Fair enough. You get your lack of sense of direction from me. Sorry.”

Grace looked down at her soiled thigh and then cast a wary glance skyward.

“Aren't you using your GPS?”

“Siri is being rather difficult, I'm afraid. This was only supposed to be a two-hour drive from the Nashville airport to Cricket Creek. I'm well beyond that now.”

“So I gather that you rented a convertible like you said you would?”

“Yes, and it was nearly instant regret. I thought it would be fun rolling through the countryside with the top down. But driving on the interstate was scary as hell! Everything was super loud. Trucks were terrifying, kicking up rocks and so on. And I littered by accident.” She wasn't about to tell her mother it was a cheeseburger wrapper. Even though her mother's modeling days were over, Becca Gordon still only consumed healthy food. “Now I get the whole
Thelma and Louise
ending.”

“Put the top up, silly girl.”

Grace winced. “Um, I might have zoned out when that whole part was explained to me. Something about a switch and clamps.” She looked around, nibbling on her lip. “I was distracted by the cute guy who rented me the car.”

“Well, good.”

“That I don't remember how to put the top up?”

“No, that you were distracted by a cute guy. You've been all work and no play for far too long, Gracie.”

“Ha! I could say the same thing about you. When was the last time you went out on a date?”

Her mother sighed. “Like they say, all the good ones are either taken or gay.”

Gracie couldn't really argue with that one.

“Sophia will know how to put the top up.”

“Right, I know. She's the smart sister. I'm the creative one. La-de-la-de-da.”

“Oh, that's rubbish. All three of you are smart and creative and gorgeous. Sophia had a convertible, remember?”

“Yes, well, at this rate, by the time I find the bistro, it will be dark, and she might have already gone home.”

“Have you called Sophia or Garret?”

“Are you kidding? I've blown up their phones. Sophia's goes straight to voice mail, so her phone must be dead. Garret isn't answering, so I'm guessing he might be in the recording studio or taking care of sweet, pregnant Mattie. I can't wait to see her baby bump.”

“Yes, poor little thing was put on bed rest. Garret has been so sick with worry. I will be so happy when the baby girl is finally here.”

“Me too! I am going to be the best aunt ever. Hey, but speaking of dead phones, my phone is getting there too. I'm going to give Siri another go before my phone peters out.”

“Don't you have a car charger?”

“I forgot it.”

“Is there someplace you can stop and ask for directions?”

“No, it's all country roads . . . trees . . . cows.” Grace angled her head. “There is a building in front of me and I think there might be lights on. Maybe I should check it out.”

“Gracie . . .” Becca said in her worried-mother voice. “I don't recommend going into a random building,” she said, which really meant
Don't you dare go in there
.

“Don't worry, Mum. I have to be close to the bistro at this point. There's water to the right of this building, so I have to be near the marina too. I'll be fine,” she said, but the woods suddenly looked a bit sinister. She squinted, looking for beady little eyes. Sometimes having a vivid imagination wasn't fun.

“Okay, well, text or call me as soon as you can, promise?”

“I will. I promise. I love you.”

“I love you too. Give everyone a big hug for me. I'll be there as soon as Garret and Mattie's baby girl is born. I've already cleared my schedule for an entire month.”

“Sure thing. Bye, Mum.”

“Do be careful. Bye, Gracie.”

After ending the call, Grace got a bit teary-eyed. Her mother was the only one who still called her Gracie. Funny, but she often thought that her name didn't fit her personality and that she and quiet little Sophia should switch names.

Grace closed her eyes and inhaled sharply. Oh, she wanted to see her sister! And Garret too. She'd gotten to know Mattie while Garret was in London filming the popular talent show
Sing for Me
. Grace was so happy that her former wild-child brother had settled down with such a wonderful girl. And Garret was going to be a daddy soon. Unbelievable! Sniffing, Grace dabbed at the corner of her eyes. She wasn't much of a crier, but the sheer frustration of being close and yet so far was getting to her. A glance into the rearview mirror made her cringe. “Oh, wow, that can't possibly be accurate.” Her gold clip had given up on keeping her long blond hair under control hours ago. She ran her tongue over her teeth and felt something. Wide-eyed, she looked at her teeth in the mirror and saw a black speck. “Dear God, is that a bug on my tooth?” Grace rubbed at it with her finger and then checked it out. Okay, just a tiny gnat but still . . . ew.

Grace desperately wanted water. She groaned and then remembered that she had a couple of bottles in her carry-on bag in the trunk. The water would be warm, but at this point, she didn't care. Besides, stretching her legs would feel amazing. And she needed to find a leaf or something to wipe the bird doo off of her jeans.

Just as Grace opened the car door, she heard a rumble
of thunder. “Don't even . . .” She tilted her face upward and peered at the sky, which had gone from cheerful blue to gunmetal gray. A raindrop splashed on her forehead. Just one. “Please . . . God, no.” She held her breath and waited. Nothing.

Sweet, false alarm.

“Okay, time to figure out how to put the top up,” Grace said, thinking it couldn't be that difficult. And then, without even another clap of thunder for fair warning, the heavens opened up and rain started pouring. Wind whipped her hair across her face, and she became instantly soaked to the skin. With a shriek of alarm and a glance of regret at the convertible, she ran for the empty building, hoping for an open door and no rats, spiders, or creepy things. Luckily, the door opened and she hurried inside, dripping wet and thoroughly pissed off at Mother Nature. “Is there no end to this crappy day?” she wailed.

“You've still got a few hours left,” said a deep voice laced with the South. Startled, Grace looked around and saw metal tanks, lots of them, and it smelled . . . weird. Dear God, what had she walked into? Some kind of drug-making thing? “Got caught in the storm?” a man asked, but failed to appear.

Grace spun around but still didn't see anyone.

“Just a little pop-up thunderstorm. Trust me, it'll soon pass over.”

“If you're God, you can stop with the practical jokes.”

“Practical jokes?”

“You know, the bug on my tooth, the bird doo on my leg, and now the unexpected rain.” She looked around but didn't see the man behind the voice amid the tall tanks and coils. Something hissed and sputtered. To her right was a large vat with something thick and frothy floating on top of it.

“I'm glad you found shelter. It's coming down hard out there.”

“Yes, it is.” But Grace didn't know whether to be glad
or not. Perhaps she should have listened to her mother. Because Grace had grown up in big cities, she'd been taught to be wary, but her curiosity usually trumped the need for safety. If she were a character in a haunted-house horror movie, she would be the one going into the basement with a flashlight. Her mum would be the one ushering people to safety, and Sophia wouldn't have ventured into the house in the first place. Grace looked around, thinking it was rather odd, finding this whatever-it-was factory out here in the middle of nowhere. Although she was intrigued, her flight-or-fight instinct was starting to kick in, with flight winning. Swallowing hard, she took a step backward, thinking she might need to make a quick exit.

“Well, I'm sure not God, so I have to ask: Who are you and where did you come from in the pouring rain?”

“I think that's my line.” Grace always resorted to false bravado when she was scared or intimidated. When something clanked, she edged another step toward the door.

“Well, this brewery is mine, so I think it really
is
my line, if you don't mind me sayin' so.”

“Beer?” Grace looked around and felt a measure of relief. “So this is a brewery.” She looked around again. “Wow . . . and you're the beer guy.”

“Brewmaster, thank you very much. And considered a god to some, so you weren't too far off base,” he said with a hint of humor. “By the way, I'm up here.”

Grace tilted her head back and saw the source of the voice up on a ladder doing something to a big tank that looked kind of like the world's largest teakettle. He'd poked his head around the side so she could finally see the man with the Southern Comfort voice. “So, there you are.”

“Here I am. Not heaven but close enough.” He gazed down at her and Grace simply couldn't look away. Longish dark hair framed a handsome face. But he was no pretty boy. Oh no, he had a strong jawline, a Greek nose,
and high cheekbones. His rugged good looks were heightened by a sexy five-o'clock shadow. Oh, but it was his mouth that captured her attention. Looking at those full lips made her feel warm and tingly, like she'd just taken a shot of potent whiskey.

Realizing she was staring, Grace lowered her gaze and looked around. “So this is a brewery. I could use a pint about now.”

“Welcome to my world.”

“Thank you. It appears quite interesting.” When Grace looked up again, he gave her the slightest of grins, almost as though he didn't smile too often, and then descended the ladder so quickly that she wondered how he didn't fall. As he walked her way, Grace noticed how his wide shoulders tested the cotton of a standard black T-shirt tucked into faded jeans riding low on his hips.

She just bet he had an amazing butt.

“You look lost.”

“Perhaps because I am . . .” At five foot nine, Grace was rather tall, but she had to tip her head back to look at his face. Close up, she could see that he had light blue eyes framed by dark lashes. Wow . . .

“Are what?”

“Lost. Sort of, anyway.” Grace was about to ask him the location of the bistro but a loud crack of thunder had her jumping, sending droplets of water into the air. “Oh! My top is down!”

“Your top isn't down. Trust me, I would have noticed.” There it was . . . that ghost of a grin again.

“No!” Although it made her realize that her wet pink shirt was clinging to her skin. She plucked at it. “I mean the top of my car . . . convertible. I hate to ask, but could you help me put it up?”