Chapter 20
Destiny
“My get up and go got up and went.”
~ Grandma Dixie
A yawn claimed me as I headed up the dirt drive that led to Gram’s house. I’d woken up from a nap—one I had not planned—ten minutes ago, when Gram had texted to see if I was still coming. Since I was running late, I hadn’t bothered to change out of the cut-off gray sweat shorts and the orange Longhorn T-shirt I’d thrown on after taking a quick shower to wash off the grit and grime from my lunch shift at the diner. The last thing I remembered before waking up to the chime of my text alert was lying on my bed to rest my eyes for a minute.
When I regained consciousness, it took my sleepy brain some effort to figure out what day and time it was. After several beats, I was able to decipher the words on the screen. When Gram’s text had registered, a jolt of adrenaline had raced through me, so I’d hurriedly gathered up my out-of-control, air-dried hair in a messy bun, brushed my teeth, grabbed my keys, and was out the door.
Now, as the tires rolled over the dirt, I took a deep breath as I drank in the sky, which was lit up with golden shades of orange, red, and yellow as the sun was setting behind the white farmhouse, the only home I’d ever known. Warmth spread through me. It didn’t matter that I’d probably seen this exact setting thousands of times—its magic never diminished. Not even my exhaustion and bleary eyes could dilute it.
My lips turned up in a smile as I parked in the same spot I’d been parking in since I’d driven home from the DMV on my sixteenth birthday. Even though I loved the apartment I lived in now, this was home. I couldn’t imagine any other place inspiring this feeling in me.
After turning the ignition off, I opened the door and glanced down at the just-rolled-out-of-bed ensemble I was rocking. I’m not saying I made it a practice to get dolled up to go over there for our weekly dinner, but this was a new low even for me. I hoped Gram wouldn’t read too much into it. Despite the fact I was still groggy, I did my best to come up with answers for my attire and my tardiness as I slowly made my way up the back steps.
I couldn’t tell her the truth. That my middle-of-the-night call from JJ had resulted in a sleepless night. Our conversation had been playing like a broken record since JJ had disconnected the call. Some bits definitely more than others. The current holder of the “Most Repeated” title was, “I was calling because…I just… I needed to hear your voice.” Close contenders included, “Goodnight, beautiful.” And “I’ll be dreaming of your delicious buns.”
When I reached the top step at the glass paned back door, my reflection revealed that my cheeks were flushed. Or, more accurately, still flushed. It had been their constant state since the call. All day at work, people had been touching my forehead with the backs of their hands to check for a fever, asking if I was coming down with something—two things I had been more than happy to address. The ones that had irritated and downright embarrassed me were the not-so-subtle innuendos that I was glowing or that I looked like a girl whose boyfriend had just moved back to town.
The truth was, I would rather people think that my crimson cheeks were the result of an illness, a sunburn, or, heck, even a rash. I didn’t want them to know that the real reason I was rocking a perma-blush was the six feet four inches of male perfection I’d been in love with eighteen out of my twenty-two years. Everyone but Gram, that is. The last thing I would ever want her to be was worried. Not only that, but she would know instantly if I tried to ‘pretend’ that I wasn’t feeling well. At least, she always had when I had been trying to get out of going to school as a kid.
Taking a deep breath, I turned the knob. My best shot at getting through dinner was to tell the truth. Well, part of it, at least. Gram could sniff out a lie faster than a hot knife cuts through butter.
Stepping into the kitchen, I paused when I didn’t see Gram where I expected to, at the stove. But, then I heard voices in the front room and realized she must’ve turned the “tube” on since I was running late.
“Hey, Gram,” I called out as I made my way down the hall. “Sorry I’m late. I had a bad night’s sleep and then work was exhausting, not to mention frustrating. All anyone wanted to talk about was—”
When I rounded the corner, I froze. The voices I’d heard were not coming from a television show.
I sharply inhaled a startled breath at what I saw. Meanwhile, my legs decided to go into Jell-O-mode, my stomach turned into a disco for butterflies, and my mouth gushed with water like a dam had burst.
JJ Briggs was in the middle of Gram’s front room. Standing on a small ladder. Replacing a light bulb.
The setting sun illuminated him, the light framing his impressive silhouette like he was some kind of angelic creature. An extremely tall, extremely built, extremely sexy angel. His snug T-shirt clung to the muscles across his chest and his biceps in a way that made my entire body shake with fierce desire.
“Oh, don’t worry about being late, sweet pea. I had company.” Gram gestured with her head in the direction of her ‘company’.
“I can see that,” I managed to say without sounding like a breathy rendition of “Happy Birthday, Mr. President,” for which I was exceedingly grateful.
Lowering his arms, JJ shot his gaze to me. “Hey, Pip.”
“Hi.” My grin was tight. As much as I didn’t appreciate the use of that name, it did help to tone my hormones down, which were multiplying like wet Gremlins.
Slow as an elephant going uphill, he stepped down from the ladder. Amusement glimmered in his brown eyes, which were laser-locked on me. “What was that you were saying? Who was it that everyone wanted to talk about?”
“Nothing. No one.” I refused to give his already-overinflated ego another boost.
“No one, huh?” he repeated with a smirk on his face that had my fingers curling into fists at my sides. Then with the wide-eyed innocence of a new born baby he continued, “You said you had a bad night’s sleep—what happened?”
I had to actively stop my eyes from narrowing and my nostrils from flaring with irritation. Instead, I consciously relaxed my hands and face. He wanted to play? Normally, I wasn’t big on game playing, JJ just had a way of bringing out the competitor in me.
Mirroring his pure-as-the-driven-snow tone I explained innocently, “After you called and woke me up at one a.m., I couldn’t get back to sleep.”
JJ’s expression was priceless. Both of his eyebrows lifted and his perfect lips parted in surprise. He had not expected me to call him out in front of Gram. Truth be told, I’d actually surprised myself.
Gram’s eyes were bouncing between us like she was watching a tennis match.
In true form, he recovered quickly, “Yeah, I’m sorry about that.” The half grin that spread on his face didn’t back his apology up.
“What was so important it couldn’t wait until the morning, JJ?” Gram’s voice was filled with delight.
Yeah, she was definitely enjoying this show.
A full smile lifted on his too-handsome face, and even before he spoke, I knew I was not going to like what he had to say.
“I just wanted to tell Destiny how much I enjoyed her cinnamon buns.”
That was his way of saying, your move.
The now-familiar heat I’d been afflicted with all day rose up my cheeks, and I knew I was so red that I probably could’a been mistaken for a tomato.
“Well, I can’t argue with that. They are delicious. But then everything that Destiny makes is delicious.” Pride shone in Gram’s face as she endorsed my baking.
In contrast to the warmth that Gram was exuding, JJ was putting off so much heat in his gaze that I wouldn’t have batted an eye if I’d combusted on the spot. When he rumbled his agreement, “Yes, delicious,” I was sure I was about to go up in flames.
“Why are you here, JJ?” I blurted out. It hadn’t been my intention to sound so harsh, but it had been all I could do to not start panting like a dog in heat.
“I asked him to come over,” Gram answered with a clipped tone.
“Why?” Again, it wasn’t that I was trying to be ungracious. It was just the only alternative to turning into a puddle of mushy lust. I probably should have apologized, but I couldn’t bring myself to.
Gram gave me her trademarked you-better-watch-it-missy glare, which I deserved. I was being rude to a guest in Gram’s house, and in the scope of sins one could commit in Dixie Rose Porter’s home, that was right up there with murder. In fact, it might have ranked above taking another life. Southern women did not take their hospitality lightly.
Nevertheless, I remained silent.
If I had spoken, I was in danger of morphing into a teenage groupie and throwing myself at JJ like he was Elvis. Not 1970s Elvis—I’m talking about 1950s “Blue Suede Shoes” hips-swaying, oozing-sex-appeal Elvis.
“Grandma Dixie needed some help around the house. I was happy to stop by,” JJ interjected lightly in what I could only assume was an attempt to smooth things over.
I knew he could sense the tension in the room. Not only between the two of us, but now, between me and Gram.
“The truth is”—Gram tilted her head to the side as she spoke, her voice infused with a reprimanding tone—“I had some things that I needed to discuss with JJ and asked him to stop by. Then, after our lovely, enlightening conversation, being the good boy he is, he asked if I needed anything before he left.”
Good boy… Ha! That was a good one. Who knew Gram was a comedian.
“All right, then, Grandma Dixie. If there’s nothing else you need, I’ll let you and your beautiful granddaughter get on with your evening,” JJ drawled.
If I wasn’t mistaken, he’d notched his drawl up to add to his charm. For the second time in the last five minutes, I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes.
Gram placed her hand on JJ’s forearm. “Well now, no need to rush off. Why don’t you join us for dinner, JJ?”
Perfect. Just perfect. As irritated as I wanted to be at the possibility of our unwanted dinner companion, I had no one to blame but myself.
Cause and effect. Every action had a reaction. That was a law of physics and it was being demonstrated right now. Certain as the sky was blue and my middle name was Rose, Gram had extended this particular invitation because of my less-than-welcoming behavior.
“Well now, I don’t want to intrude.” JJ’s grin widened.
Gram waved him off. “Oh, don’t be silly. I made enough lasagna to feed a small army. And then we’ll have those delicious cinnamon buns Destiny dropped off last night while we watch our program.”
“JJ does not want to watch Fixer Upper, Gram.” It was bad enough that JJ was staying for dinner. If he was here any longer I didn’t think I would survive—or, at the very least, hold on to the anger I’d worked up over the almost month since he’d disappeared.
“Are you kidding me? I love that show.” JJ shot me a look like I was crazier than Jim Carrey on LSD, and on top of that, he had the nerve to sound slightly offended.
“You’ve seen Fixer Upper?” That was about as likely as him subscribing to Playboy for the articles.
JJ loved two things: sports and women. A married couple that renovated houses was not exactly in his wheelhouse.
“Yes, I have. It happens to be one of my favorite shows,” he insisted.
“Really? Favorite, huh?” I challenged. “What’s it about?”
JJ Briggs could win a gold medal in BSing, so I waited to see if he was going to go with the obvious—it’s about fixing things up—to which I was already coming up with an appropriate retort. If he was going to be more creative, I was going to have to stay on my toes.
Imagine my surprise when, without, blinking he replied, “It’s a home renovation show hosted by Chip and Joanna Gaines, who are married and have four of the cutest kids you’ve ever seen. They show couples three fixer-uppers to choose from, and once the couple picks, they go to work. Chip’s favorite day is Demo Day. JoJo’s favorite thing to do is tear down walls, rivaled only by her love of shiplap.”
In that moment, you could’a knocked me over with a feather. I was stunned. Floored. Speechless. JJ really did watch the show. There was no way he could have known all of that without actually being a viewer.
He placed his hand on his chest. “My favorite part of the show is watching Chip tease JoJo. When she’s anywhere near him, it’s like she’s the prettiest girl in school and he does everything he can to get her attention and impress her.”
“Hmmm. Who does that remind me of?” Gram snorted at her own joke as her gaze bounced between us.
I opened my mouth to say something—anything. But I couldn’t. I stared at JJ as my mind tried to catch up with his words. Between his behavior over the Fourth, sending me flowers, and, now, this, I was beginning to think there had been some kind of alien-invasion, body-snatchers thing going on.
“Well, I just watch it for Clint the Cutie Carpenter.” Gram stated, snapping me out of my momentary shock. “He reminds me of my Walter.”
It was true. Every time we watched the show, Gram commented on Clint’s dimples and how much he looked like Grandpa Walter “in his heyday.” Then she would make some comment about how it was always a good idea to be with a man who knew how to use his hands.
“Well, sweet pea. You’re up.” Gram nodded her head towards me expectantly.
“Huh?” I asked. I had no idea what she had prompted me to do.
“What is your favorite part of Fixer Upper?” she asked slowly, since I was apparently having a difficult time following along.
Thankfully, my answer took absolutely no brain power whatsoever. “I love watching Chip and Joanna together. They are my hashtag relationship goals.”
“Hmmm. Interesting. Very interesting,” Gram commented just as the stove timer rang out. She turned and headed to the kitchen.
I wasn’t sure what was so interesting about the fact that Chip and JoJo were my relationship goals. Anyone who watched the show for two seconds could see how in love the two of them are.
“You two wash up before supper,” Gram instructed over her shoulder before disappearing into the kitchen.
It wouldn’t matter how old I was—Gram would always remind me to wash my hands before I ate. Not even having a career in food service made a difference.
Before I made it even two steps, JJ’s fingers encircled my wrist. The contact sent a shock of lightning straight to my core. I closed my eyes as it surged through me. When I opened my eyes, JJ was staring down at me.
“Is this okay?” he asked quietly.
I’d heard his words, but I had no idea what he was talking about. Was what okay? Was it okay that just one innocent touch could cause such a knee-buckling, soul-rocking reaction? No. It was absolutely not okay.
A smile, which had surely gotten him out of trouble more times than he could count, appeared on his face as he dipped his head and spoke right against my ear, “I really didn’t mean to invite myself to dinner, but how could I say no to your delicious buns?”
The heat of his breath against my neck combined with the vibration of his baritone voice caused a full-body tremor to quake through me. As I was busy composing myself from the onslaught of desire rioting within, Gram called down the hallway.
“You two get lost on the way to the kitchen?”
JJ’s lips brushed against my outer ear as he moved past me. “No, ma’am. We’re coming,” he answered as he walked down the hall, which gave me an excellent view of his behind.
Oh boy. This was going to be a long night…