CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Ben
Shiner was known for its annual crawfish festival. Texans flocked from all over the state to hear their favorite bands, compete in the cook-off contest, and fill up on cotton candy and funnel cakes. My mother always donated cookies for the church’s baked goods stand, and my older sister usually ended up selling them. When Chelsea told me Brees Island’s Sea Breeze festival was this week, it was hard not to think of home.
It was getting harder and harder not to be homesick for Texas. For the ranch.
Davis General Store was the biggest sponsor of the event, and all week the staff had been putting in extra hours to help the village gear up for the all-day festival.
It didn’t matter to me that Friday was supposed to be my day off. I gripped the corner of a banner and took the steps of the ladder until I was eye level with the fire station’s garage door.
“Don’t fall,” Chelsea warned from the ground.
“Darlin’, I’ve got balance. Don’t you worry.” I fastened the ties to the hooks above the door. I guessed a few banners had been hung in this spot before. “How’s this?”
“Perfect.”
I tied the final knot and descended until I was next to her. Inside the fire station, the women from church were setting up tables and securing plastic tablecloths with tape.
“What goes on in there?” I pointed to the busy women.
Chelsea smiled, pulling her hair off her neck. I wanted to kiss her, but we were surrounded by a conservative audience. “Oh, that’s where they set up the crafts. Blankets, pot holders, Christmas ornaments—you know that kind of thing. I think there’s a raffle for one of those new titanium rods my dad just got in. He donated it. All the money goes to the school.”
I watched the women work. It was familiar. It reminded me I needed to call home and check in on my mom.
“I’ve been eyeing those rods all summer. I think I’ll have to buy a few tickets.”
She released the makeshift ponytail, and her hair layered around her shoulders. Hell, I didn’t care if half of the state watched. I grabbed her around the waist and pulled her into my arms.
“Hey, you two,” Bertie scolded only a few feet away.
Chelsea giggled and looked into my eyes. “Maybe later?”
Begrudgingly, I let my hands fall from her hip and growled. The ladies arranging doilies started to whisper, and I knew it was a battle I had lost.
“Jake, why don’t you help me move some of these boxes?” Bertie struggled with the tailgate.
“Hold on, hold on.” I rushed over to help the older woman. She couldn’t weigh more than ninety pounds.
“I have to get back to the store for the afternoon, but I’ll come by to check on you.” Chelsea laughed as she pulled her bike from the fire station rack. “I think Bertie will keep you busy for a while.”
I loaded my arms with boxes, the contents a mystery, and walked into the station. “See you later, killer.”
***
Hayden Davis strolled next to me and patted me on the back. “Thanks for all of your help yesterday getting the festival set up.” Chelsea’s father spoke over the band playing.
“Sure thing. I didn’t mind.”
I liked the man. I just didn’t like his decisions and how they affected Chelsea. He lived a double life. Part of me realized there were things about us that might not be that different.
Most everyone had gone home mid-afternoon to clean up for the party. There was a popular beach music band, and the street was roped off for dancing. The local crowd was reappearing one by one, freshly showered and wearing their favorite dancing shoes. I felt right at home in my khaki shorts and flip-flops.
“There you are.” Cindy joined us. “I couldn’t get out of the fire station until now. Hi, Jake.” She smiled.
“Hi, ma’am.” I watched as she reached up on her toes to kiss her husband’s cheek.
“Where’s Chelsea?” She peeked around me.
I had been wondering the same thing. “She said she would meet me here.” I glanced at my watch. It was seven thirty. Fifteen minutes past when she agreed to be at the dance. “Maybe I should call her. I’ll be right back.” I left the Davises and walked toward my Jeep.
I had parked in the store’s employee lot so I wouldn’t have to deal with traffic. Although, I had to laugh at myself. Traffic problems on the island consisted of five cars at one stop sign. It was nothing like L.A. or Atlanta traffic.
I pulled on the handle of the passenger side and flipped the latch on the glove box. I liked life without a cell phone in my pocket. Before I could pick up the device, I felt hands slide around my waist. I jumped.
“What the—?” I spun on my heels to find Chelsea wearing a smile and a sundress that showed off her tanned shoulders.
“Scare you?” She giggled.
“What? Me? No way.” I closed the door behind me and the space that separated us. “Come here.”
She lunged into my arms, and I picked her up by the waist, crushing my lips into hers. She tasted like strawberries and smelled like the sweetness of the sun.
She looped her hands around my waist and pressed her forehead to mine. “Sorry I’m so late. I couldn’t decide on what to wear.” I felt her chest rising and falling against me. I loved it when we were close like this.
I lowered her carefully until her flip-flops touched the gravel surface. My finger traced the tiny flowers around the neckline of her dress. I liked the goose bumps I was creating on her skin as I played with the fabric. “This one looks pretty on you.” It took serious restraint not to peel it off her in the back of my Jeep. “I was just getting ready to call you.”
“I sent you a few texts. Why don’t you keep your phone on you?” She placed her hand into my palm as we turned toward the street.
I sighed. “Because sometimes it’s nice to be unavailable.”
“Except when I’m trying to call you to tell you I’m late.” She poked me in the side.
“Yeah, except for that.” I laughed.
The band started another number, and from our vantage point, we could see the festivalgoers pairing off to dance.
“Are you ready to shag?” She looked at me expectantly.
“Uh, darlin’, don’t you think we should be alone for that? Although, don’t get me wrong, I like the way you’re thinking.” We walked closer to the crowd.
She swatted me on the chest. “No. Not that.” She pointed to the dancers. “That’s shagging.”
I watched as the couples shuffled their feet together, and then rocked back on one heel. Some had more pronounced moves, while others seemed content to count out the beat almost at a standstill. It was nothing like the two-step.
I scratched my head. “I don’t know what in the hell they’re doing.”
“I’ve seen you move.” She winked. “Just follow my lead.”
Before I could protest or study the steps, Chelsea tugged me into the center of the street turned dance floor, and locked a firm grip on my hand.
“Ok. It’s easy. Watch my feet. One, two, three, one, two, three, and then rock back. Like this.” She showed me the simple move and paused to let me give it a try.
This was the first time I had been on a dance floor in flip-flops, but was pleasantly surprised that they were perfect for the steps.
“Got it?” Her eyes sparkled as she started her first triple count.
I grinned. “Baby, I was born to shag.” I matched her steps and rocked on my heel as Chelsea’s laughter shot out.
“Please, no more jokes. Shagging is serious.” She zeroed in on my eyes with a mock reprimand.
I pretended to shake the humor from my face. “Like this? All serious?”
She spun under my arm and leaned into the crowd. “Yes. Exactly like that. There’s no laughing in shagging.” She let a giggle slip as I curled my hand around her waist.
The band played until midnight, and we didn’t leave the festival until the last note was launched in the air. I was fairly certain I had danced with every woman who lived on Brees Island and a few who didn’t. I also had the chance to show off my two-step, even though I knew this crowd was partial to their beach music. I didn’t know if I had ever laughed so hard or danced so much.
I draped my arm around Chelsea’s shoulder as we headed to the parking lot, my legs slightly achy from four hours of dancing.
“Did you have a good time?” She smiled at me.
“The best.” I kissed her on the forehead as I shuttled her into the Jeep.
“Wait. What about my car?” She looked over her shoulder at her parking spot.
“Oh, we don’t have time for that.”
“We don’t?” I loved the puzzled look on her face.
“No. I’ve got to get you home.” I jumped into the driver’s seat, cranked the engine, and peeled out of the lot, spewing gravel in all directions. I loved dancing with her all night, but I couldn’t wait to hold her in my arms and dance a little more where no one else could watch.
***
Had it really been five weeks since I started working at the store? I wasn’t keeping track, but Chelsea had mentioned it in passing. I knew girls didn’t drop hints like that for nothing. It was some kind of milestone. She was coming over for dinner tonight, and I knew I needed to do something special to commemorate five weeks together, but hell if I knew what that would be. Flowers? No, that seemed too cliché. Wine and candles? No, we had done that.
If we were in L.A., I would take her to a five-star restaurant that overlooked the canyons. In Atlanta, we could go somewhere and listen to a cool indie band. She would love all the music. More than anything, I wanted to take her to my ranch in Texas, but all three of those ideas weren’t options tonight. I needed to think of something creative, something romantic, something that would make her smile, and something I could come up with within the hour before she arrived.
I lifted the screen on my laptop. After one of my calls with Rick two weeks ago, I realized if I was going to send out an email, I would have to find a computer on the island. I broke down, ordered one that night on my phone, and had it express shipped. More surprising than being connected to the world again was that Carl and Flora had wireless at the campground. Flora told me they had too many visitors who complained without it. It wasn’t worth the hassle to argue with them about the benefits of going internet-free. Carl had the wireless installed last summer.
I typed in “romantic date ideas” and waited for the search results to pop up. I took a sip of beer and skimmed the first few articles on the screen. Everything was the same old standard stuff: dinner, movie, flowers, champagne, bubble bath. I placed the bottle on the table. One item on the list had merit. I checked the time. I didn’t know if I would be able to pull it off, but I would try. For a pretty girl with blue eyes, I would try.