Chapter 5
Destiny
“Every time I stand up, my mind sits down.”
~ Grandma Dixie
I stared up at the stringed lights hanging from the rafters in the Briggs barn and knew that it was official. I had lost my ever-lovin’ mind. I couldn’t think straight if my life depended on it. I had more voices in my head than Kim Kardashian had selfies. They all had different things to say, but seemed to be in one of two camps.
Camp Talk To JJ and Camp Ignore JJ At All Costs.
Over the last hour, I had lovingly nicknamed them Team Go For It and Team Play It Safe.
Team Play It Safe: “Leave that boy alone.”
Team Go For It: “Talking to him won’t hurt.”
Team Play It Safe: “Why did you wear this dress?”
Team Go For It: “You look hot. Take advantage of it.”
Team Play It Safe: “Stay away from him.”
Team Go For It: “One dance wouldn’t hurt.”
Team Play It Safe: “He’s doesn’t deserve you.”
Team Go For It: “Who cares? He’s hot!”
Team Play It Safe: “He hurt you once, and he’ll do it again.”
Team Go For It: “It would be worth it to feel his soft lips one more time.”
I was having inner-thought whiplash. I was about to nickname myself Sybil because I was definitely feeling schizophrenic. But I had to admit that the scales were most certainly tipping in Team Go For It’s direction.
A loud catcall whistle sounded behind me. “Damn, girl. You’re wearing that dress.”
I knew who it was before I turned around.
“Thanks,” I said, desperately trying to keep my voice neutral.
I’d known Brady Calhoun my entire life, and just because he’d decided that I was his next victim—er…um, conquest—there was still no reason to be a b-i-t-c-h. After this phase—which, sadly, had lasted much longer than I had anticipated—was over, we would likely go back to being friends, so the last thing I wanted to do was say something I’d have to apologize for later. I hated apologizing. As much as I wished that I hadn’t inherited that particular gene from Gram, at least I had come by it honestly. Grandma Dixie would rather cut off a toe than admit that she had been wrong about something.
“How about a spin on the dance floor?” Brady’s hand rested on my lower back.
Since I’d decided to wear my one and only backless dress because I might or might not have been trying to impress a certain baseball player (I totally was!), Brady’s palm was pressed directly against my skin. It was unsettling.
“No, thanks.” I shifted away from him, and thankfully, his hand fell from my back.
I scanned the packed, newly-renovated barn where the Briggs’ annual Third of July party was being held. I hoped to catch Harmony or Cara’s eye so they could save me from Brady. Could I handle it myself? Sure. But what good were best friends if they didn’t rescue you from unwanted advances?
Luckily, the crowds parted and an angel did come to my aid, but it wasn’t one of my fellow Charlie’s Angels. It was the first angel I’d ever had in my life. Gram.
“Just the girl I was looking for.” Grandma Dixie walked up and kissed me on my cheek. “Can I borrow you for a minute, sweet pea?”
“Yes!” I realized the second the answer sprang from my lips, like a snake from a gag canister, that it had been just a tad on the enthusiastic side. Oh, well. A girl could only do so much, and apparently, keeping my excitement at getting out of another awkward conversation with Brady on the down low was not on the agenda.
“Brady.” Gram nodded in greeting as she slipped her arm through mine. Then we weaved our way through the dense crowd of partygoers until we were across the large barn.
“Thanks, Gram.” Leaning down, I kissed her on her wrinkled cheek as I squeezed the hand resting on my forearm.
Making a tsking sound, she shook her head. “That poor boy doesn’t know whether to wind his butt or scratch his watch. I swear, if you put his brains in a bumblebee, it would fly backwards.”
“He just thinks he wants something he doesn’t,” I said, defending Brady. I knew that he truly believed he was interested in me just as sure as I knew that he really wasn’t.
She waved her hand dismissively—she’d made up her mind about Brady Calhoun and there was nothing I could do to change it. Gram didn’t change her mind. Ever.
“I don’t want to waste another one of the precious moments I have left on this earth talking about Brady Calhoun. I want to talk about this dress.” Lifting my hand in the air, Gram twirled me around then patted my cheek after I’d done my ballerina-like spin. “You look like a fairy princess, sweet girl.”
“Thanks.” I smiled, happy that she thought the dress fell in the whimsical and not the slutty category.
She’d said that the first prom dress I’d picked out would be “lovely on a street walker.” Needless to say, that one hadn’t made it out of the department store.
A glance at my baby-blue scoop-neck sundress left me wondering if a “fairy princess” would show this much cleavage. But hey, I wasn’t about to point that out.
Leaning close, her deep-blue eyes twinkling, she spoke softly, “The girls being on display wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain hometown baseball hero that I heard was sniffin’ around you at the Spoon today, would it?”
My smile grew larger. I might have tried to deny my true intentions for choosing this dress to Harmony, Cara—and maybe even myself—but there was no way I could deny it to Gram. She knew me better than I knew myself—not because I was her great-granddaughter, either. She knew half the town better than they knew themselves.
“It might,” I admitted.
The morning after I’d almost lost my virginity to JJ, I’d told Gram the entire sordid tale over pancakes. The first person most people told things like that to was usually a friend, but that’s because they weren’t lucky enough to have Dixie Rose Porter as a great-grandma. It’s not that Gram agreed with all of my life decisions or even held her tongue when she didn’t, but she never judged me or treated me differently for them. She just loved me. Mistakes and all.
“Good.” She winked at me then peered over my shoulder. “Hello, Jefferson. Well, don’t you look handsome? You clean up real nice.”
I froze, rooted to the spot, my stomach churning like Gram’s old fashioned ice cream maker.
JJ was behind me? How long had he been there? Had he heard Gram’s question? Had he overheard my response?
I’d been doing a darn good job at avoiding him all night. Luckily, since he hadn’t been back to town in so long, quite a few people wanted to catch up. Every time I had noticed him heading towards me, I had been able to skirt away when one person or another had stopped him to talk. It was like an episode of Tom and Jerry. We’d been playing cat and mouse all night.
“Hey, Grandma Dixie. Thanks. You are lookin’ mighty fine tonight, yourself.”
I smiled as Gram blew off the compliment, scrunching her face and shaking her head. She only did that when something affected her. She was always attractive, but she did look especially beautiful that night. Her long, gray hair was down around her shoulders in soft waves, and she was wearing a burgundy dress with a champagne-colored wrap that perfectly highlighted her peaches-and-cream skin.
A hand rested on my back for the second time that night, and this one was unsettling as well, but for an entirely different reason. The warmth of JJ’s long fingers pressing against my bare skin spread tingles through me like a wildfire. A pulse began beating like Morse code between my legs alerting me that, if any more stimulation occurred, there was a very real possibility I would spontaneously combust. Or, at the very least, have a completely inappropriate orgasm in a room full of people while standing right beside Gram.
A flush flared up my cheeks as my entire body melted. How in the world was it fair that, when any other man touched me, it was meh-okay at best and skin-crawling at worst, but when JJ touched me, my body instantly came apart? It was like he was a superhero and that was his super power.
JJ the Baseball Man, giving girls orgasms with just one pitch.
His warm breath fanned down my neck, and my heart ceased beating. I held my breath as he said in a low, raspy voice, “You look beautiful tonight, Pip.”
Pip. That word washed over me like cold water. Flush gone. Tingles evaporated. Body tensed. Mind clear.
Game on, JJ the Baseball Man.