Walking on Sunshine (9 page)

Tessa nodded. “It's a nice cross between Irish pale ale and English pale ale brewed with limestone water from Lexington, Kentucky. Would you like a sample?”

“I'm already sold.”

Tessa smiled. “We're going to expand the bar area and offer a large selection of craft beers. Goes well with pizza, don't you think?”

“Absolutely,” Shane agreed. He thought about the comment that Mattie had just made about her brother and smiled. He'd been researching some ways to invest his money, and brewing beer sounded like something he'd really enjoy.

Tessa put the pilsner glass down in front of him. “Here you go,” she said, and waited for him to take a sip.

“Wow, this is good stuff,” Shane said with a nod. “Excellent.”

“Glad you like it,” Tessa said. “My brother Tony is all about craft beer lately.”

“Really? I think Cricket Creek needs one.”

“I know that we could sell a locally brewed beer here for sure. We're thinking of adding a beer garden.”

“Great idea.” Shane could feel her excitement and he smiled. “With the addition of Sully's South you'll have bigger crowds up here and we're not far from the baseball stadium. I think it's something to give some thought to anyway. Hey, maybe we could do some outdoor concerts with some of the talent we discover at Sully's South.”

“My husband owns some property up here too. We should put our heads together and see what we come up with.”

Shane reached in his wallet and handed her a card. “My contact number is on here. Let's set something up sometime soon.”

“Will do!” She gave him a bright smile. “This is so exciting! I'll go place your pizza order. Should take about twenty minutes.”

“Then I might have to have two of these,” Shane said with a lift of his glass. He had the strong urge to look over his shoulder at Mattie and Laura Lee but slipped his phone from his pocket and pretended interest in his messages while his mind remained on the auburn-haired woman who had somehow captivated him in a short period of time.

Although he wanted to flirt with her during the day
and especially when they ate dinner together, he refrained. Giving her the wrong impression was the very last thing he wanted to do, so until the time felt right he would be her employer and hopefully become her friend. He certainly wouldn't want for her to think that he expected anything of a romantic nature from her as part of her job description or having him throw his celebrity weight around. He wanted Laura Lee to feel comfortable and know that he was sincere.
Slow and steady gets the prize,
he told himself. But slow and steady was going to be oh so hard when every time she was within reaching distance he wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her.

Patience,
Shane told himself, and took a drink of his beer. He was worried, though, that while he was biding his time someone else might beat him to the punch. The thought of Laura Lee in the arms of another man made his heart plummet. Two weeks, he thought to himself. In two weeks he'd go for a kiss. With that in mind he opened his calendar on his phone and marked the day.

Everybody Plays the Fool

A
FTER HIS MEETING WITH
S
HANE AND
M
ARIA AT
S
ULLY
'
S
South, Garret wanted to go for a run, but his ankle, although feeling better than expected because of his cute little nurse, was still a tad tender. He still couldn't believe he'd been crazy enough to jump over the railing of the deck. Of course when he heard Colby trying to get Mattie to jump in the river he'd seen red and hadn't been thinking straight. In truth, although he'd gotten into his fair share of scuffles, he was usually the one causing the issue, not coming to the rescue.

Garret had to grin. Sprained ankle or not, he damn well knew if someone was giving Mattie a hard time he'd do the same damn thing again, because who knew that being the hero was so much more fun than being the villain? And felt so much better, he thought, and his smile dimmed a bit. Living with so much anger and resentment at his father for so long had squeezed out any chance for happiness. What Garret was trying to prove by being a jackass for all those years, he sure as hell didn't know, but it certainly did feel liberating to be on a different path.

Not ready to head back to his cabin just yet, Garret
put the top down of his convertible and drove around Cricket Creek taking in the sights. Having grown up in such big cities like London, L.A., and Chicago, Garret thought he'd feel incredibly bored in a small town. When he heard his father had moved here, he had given him six months until he sold the recording studio and came to his senses. But now, driving around in his Audi convertible, he felt a sense of wonder at the slow pace, the lack of horns honking and sirens going off ever so often. At first he'd thought it odd that people waved at just about everyone passing by, including him, but now he just grinned and waved back. He found it amusing that the wave was often accompanied by a “How y'all doin'?” And Garret now knew that the correct response was “Doin' all right.”

When Garret stopped for a red light he watched people strolling leisurely down the sidewalk rather than bumping shoulders in a mad dash to get wherever they needed to go. Instead of heads bent looking at cell phones or chatting with phones glued to their ear, people here in Cricket Creek actually walked in groups and talked to one another. And they were smiling. Imagine that.

From the old historical brick buildings to the flowerpots overflowing with vibrant colors, Main Street oozed small-town charm. Grammar's Bakery drew his attention, and the many antique shops reminded him of Portobello Road in London. For a minute Garret thought about pulling over to park so he could take pictures with his phone, but then with a little chuckle he reminded himself that he wasn't a tourist but actually lived here in this quaint place. Just a year ago he would have laughed his head off at the notion of residing in a town called Cricket Creek, but he inhaled the fresh air filled with the sweet scent of flowers and smoky charcoal grills coming from the park to his left. He could see the baseball field and hear the cheers after the ping of an aluminum bat connected with a baseball.

Garret had the urge to park his car and watch,
wondering what it would have felt like to be a kid playing while parents cheered wildly at each little achievement. The closest he came was piano recitals when his mother insisted that he should take piano lessons. At first he'd balked at practicing, but soon discovered that like with his absentee father, music was in his blood. He picked up the guitar soon after, wanting to show off his talent to a father who was almost never there. Garret practiced, wanting to become a better musician than his father, and he often dreamed of surpassing Rick Ruleman's fame. Garret pictured himself basking in the glory of millions of fans, but he soon found out that being the son of an icon meant that critics were harsh. Garret crumpled beneath the scrutiny and played into the hands of those who wanted him to fail.

Garret drove past a place called the Dairy Bar and smiled at the long line of kids and families waiting for a cold treat on a warm summer evening. He could hear their chatter and laughter, drawing joy from the simple things in life. Young couples pushed strollers down the sidewalk, stopping here and there to chat with friends.

His own childhood had been chaotic and complicated and after his parents split up he lived in London only to be uprooted when his mother had remarried. Garret had been thrown for yet another childhood loop, feeling as if his mum loved her two children with boring banker Marcus Gordon much more than she could ever love him. There he was, all knees and elbows with a mouthful of braces, while little Sophia and Grace, a mere year and a half apart, were the picture of perfection.

Of course there were times when Garret felt like the odd man out, but he soon learned that his mother had more than enough love in her heart for all three of her children. Marcus, however, didn't deal well with Garret when he went from being a nerdy bookworm eager to please to a rebellious teenager hell-bent on causing a ruckus. Garret shook his head, thinking back to how he used to make it his job to get mild-mannered Marcus all riled up.

Garret turned onto Maple Street past the high school and drove down the tree-lined street. Residents were outside sitting on porches, mowing lawns, and strolling. After leaving London he'd been raised in huge homes, rarely interacting with neighbors. This sense of community, easy smiles, and continuous interaction must feel like having an extended family.

Garret spotted a couple of girls who reminded him of Sophia and Grace and smiled. He adored his half sisters, wishing that he could see them more often. The marriage to Marcus had lasted nearly twenty years, many of which his mother and stepfather had lived apart. While they rarely argued and were politely friendly, they grew further and further apart, staying together out of convenience and for the sake of the family. Garret found it all very sad and he was glad when his mum finally decided to end the marriage.

Becca finally moved back to London full-time after Sophia and Grace went off to college, while Marcus lived in the States. When his mum had confessed that she'd done the classic thing by marrying someone the total opposite of his father, Garret finally understood. While she and Marcus remained friendly, they were ill-suited from the start and unhappy for a very long time. Now that his father was happily married to Maggie, Garret wished that his mum could also find someone special in her life.

Garret pushed his silver aviator sunglasses up the bridge of his nose and had to wonder if his fascination with this small town had anything to do with his odd, rather disjointed childhood. He'd just bet that if he stopped the group of teenagers playing touch football over in the grass and asked if they would rather live here or have a rock star for a father, they would answer
rock star
in a split second. They would be wrong. Family life, friends who really cared couldn't be bought with money. Garret knew because he'd tried.

Garret hadn't been joking when he told Mattie that Addison had dodged the bullet by ending their
engagement. But being with Addison had given Garret a glimpse of how it felt to be with someone who actually cared about him without an agenda, and he wanted that in his life. If rock legend Rick Ruleman could settle down, then there was hope for anyone, including him. That was why Garret hoped that Mattie could give him lessons on living a small-town lifestyle. He truly wanted to become part of the community. Of course he could try to subdue his accent as he did while living in L.A., but Garret was tired of pretending to be someone he wasn't. While he wanted to blend in better, he also wanted to have the freedom to finally be himself . . 
.
whatever that was, he thought with a wry grin.

Of course after his little run-in with Colby, Garret was pretty sure he had an uphill climb ahead of him when it came to making friends. Not that he bloody well wouldn't do it again!

Garret noticed the glances his silver sports car was getting and wondered if he needed to trade his Audi in for a pickup truck. He chuckled when he pictured himself behind the wheel of a big-ass four-wheel-drive monster but then decided it might be fun.

Garret turned back onto Main Street, and the aroma of smoldering charcoal from the nearby picnics stirred up hunger pangs, so he pulled into the parking lot of Wine and Diner. He'd heard that the food was amazing and he decided to order some takeout before heading back to his cabin. Cooking wasn't something he'd mastered just yet, but improving his culinary skills was on his long list of things to do to become more rounded. Garret grinned, thinking that he was much more likely to become thinner than more rounded. Even using the microwave resulted in minor explosions and overcooked rubber food.

Garret parked at a spot near the entrance so he didn't have to put too much stress on his ankle. Once inside, he was immediately glad he'd stopped. The interior was as the name of the restaurant indicated, a blend of an old-school diner and a modern flair. The thought went through
his head that he'd like to eat here with Mattie and then he shoved it aside. Mattie Mayfield was hell-bent on getting the attention of Colby, and he'd best remember that their little arrangement was for mutual benefit and friendship, nothing more. Of course his memory took an extended holiday every time he laid eyes upon her.

“The hostess is off duty, so you can seat yourself,” called a lady from behind the counter at the far end of the restaurant. The stools were the old-fashioned kind that spun around, making Garret wonder if he might just eat here and enjoy the atmosphere. But dining by one's self rather sucked, so he walked over to her and sat down, barely refraining from taking a little spin. But just as he got to the counter, a little boy ran past Garret, nearly knocking into him.

“Ben! Get back here this minute or I'll tell your mama,” said the same lady who'd greeted Garret. “Hey there, would you do me a favor and catch him?” she shouted to Garret. “I'm supposed to be watching him for his mama and he's quicker than lightning and squirms away like a greased piglet.”

Garret was hesitant to apprehend the little chap, but he also didn't want to have him scoot out the door and into traffic, so he hurried over and scooped him up.

“Put me down,” Ben demanded, and indeed had the squirming thing down pat.

“You little booger,” the lady said, and held her hands out for Ben to come to her. “Come here to Auntie Myra.”

“No,” Ben said, and wrapped his chubby arms around Garret's neck. “I don't want to take a nap, Auntie Myra!”

“Mama's rules, Benny.”

His answer was to cling to Garret tighter.

“I say, little chap, I think you must mind Auntie Myra. And naps are actually quite nice.”

“You talk funny,” Ben said, and pulled back to give Garret a curious look.

“Ben, be polite.”

“Well,
you
smell like strawberries,” Garret said.

“I know.” Ben grinned and showed Garret a fistful of slightly squished strawberries. “Want one?”

“No, thanks,” Garret said, but Ben wasn't having no for an answer and smashed one into Garret's closed mouth.

“Benjamin McKenna!” Aunt Myra exclaimed, and tried to tug Ben away from Garret, but he clung like a little monkey to a tree. “I'm gonna tell your daddy,” she threatened, and that seemed to give Ben pause, but after a second he went back to force-feeding Garret. “Ben, stop smashing strawberries in his face.”

McKenna . . . it suddenly dawned on Garret that the little rascal was the son of former baseball great Ty McKenna, who was part owner of the Cricket Creek Cougars, the local pro baseball team in town. Maggie had told him about the baseball stadium built by baseball great and resident hero Noah Falcon a few years ago when financial woes hit Cricket Creek hard. He remembered now that Addison's uncle, Mitch Monroe, was a silent partner in the baseball complex along with several other developments in and around Cricket Creek. The small town certainly had drawn quite a few heavy hitters along with Garret's father.

“I think you might be getting yourself into a spot of trouble, Ben,” Garret added, but Ben didn't seem to care. Garret could relate and had to chuckle. He couldn't remember when he'd held a guy so small, and he found the little chap quite amusing.

“Don't want a naaaaap!” Ben wailed, putting extra emphasis on the
p
.

“Well, it's way past your naptime anyway,” Aunt Myra grumbled. “So just come with me so we can get a bath and wash up for supper.”

“Don't want peas or cawits, just sta-waw-baa-wees.”

“I'll let your mama deal with that battle,” Myra said, and was finally able to pry Ben from around Garret's neck.

“So sorry,” Myra said, and then laughed. “Oh goodness, you have strawberries all over your face.”

Ben looked at Garret and giggled. “You look silly.”

“I get that a lot,” Garret said, and reached down onto the counter for a napkin from a silver container. He tugged a few napkins loose and started wiping his face.

“What's your name?” Ben wanted to know.

“Garret.”

“Ga-wit, you wanna play?” Ben asked, and Garret felt an odd pang of longing that he couldn't explain. Other than his sisters he had never been particularly fond of being around children, but he thought Ben was completely cute in a rascally little way.

“Ben, Garret came into the diner to get a bite to eat, not to play.”

“I wanna eat wiff him.” Ben pointed at Garret.

Garret thought it might be fun to eat with little Ben, but Aunt Myra didn't look too pleased about his request. Besides, they might just end up skipping peas and going straight for dessert. Addison had once told him that he suffered from the Peter Pan syndrome, and although he was trying hard to grow up, he often found it difficult. “I would love to eat with you, Ben, but I'm getting takeaway.”