Grandma, a bony spark plug with a white-haired pixie cut, sat on the couch with her two redheaded daughters, my mom and Aunt Ginny. Grandma banged her cane on the floor to the beat as Ginny played a tambourine and Mom rapped a cowbell with a drumstick, all of them grinning.
Leaning against an open doorway on the other side of the room, arms crossed in a way that showed off every muscle under his white T-shirt, was Landon. He smiled and nodded along to the song. He was the first to notice me, and that’s when he blasted me with the full Fireworks, enhanced by dimples and deliciously formed lips surrounded by just the faintest hint of scruff. No wonder women fell all over him.
I mean, not that I’d been paying that much attention.
He nodded at me, then nodded toward the musicians.
I shook my head. He’d witnessed my drunken banjo playing once. Now he asked me every chance he got whether I’d been to the holler lately.
I’m from the swamp, thank you very much, like everybody else who grew up in Florida.Notthe holler.
And he grew up in a big house on a golf course, in a development created by his dad. To me, that’s a step down from a holler or a swamp. At least hollers and swamps still have remnants of nature and don’t suck all the water out of the aquifer.
Sorry. I get a little worried about the water sometimes.
The song came to its pounding conclusion, and everyone clapped and laughed.
“Kayla!” Gary called. “Did you bring your banjo?”
“Nope,” I said, then shot a glower at Landon. As if he’d psychically planted the idea in Gary’s head.
“Too bad,” said Ez, whose moods had lightened since she’d taken up with Gary. She smiled up at him from the piano bench, then grabbed a handful of his curly hair and pulled him toward her for a kiss.
My heart squeezed for just a second. I’d never have that, thatthingthey had. I was stupid to even think I should try. I’d been even more stupid not to foresee how my bad judgment would crash my career before it even got started.
“I have to interrupt the music anyway,” Aunt Ginny said. “Gary’s going to grill the burgers for me.”
“Oh, that’s right! Sorry, Mom,” he said, and he dashed off to the kitchen, followed by his mother and Jay.
Ez shrugged. “I’ll play background music, then. Carry on.” Her fingers floated over the keys, coaxing out one of those melancholy ballads she was so good at writing.
Mom stood, patting Grandma’s shoulder so she wouldn’t feel obligated to get up, then came over to me and gave me a hug. “I’m glad you’re here. And it’s so nice Landon could come.”
I wanted to ask,Why do you care if Landon is here?But I just smiled at her and asked, “What did you want to tell me?”
A little wrinkle of concern appeared in her brow for a moment. “It’s nothing to worry about. I’ll tell everyone over dessert.”
“Are you sick? Is something wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong, sweetie.” She smoothed back her red hair, her tell. I knew she was anxious about something.
“Don’t make me worry all through dinner.”
“I promise it’s nothing to worry about. OK?”
“OK.” My tone was dubious at best, but she just gave me another quick hug and headed to the kitchen.
“Thanks for inviting me to dinner.”
I whirled at the voice behind me. It was Landon, of course, and now his smile was full of mischief.
I swallowed. “I — I called your office.”
“You know the office closes at four.”
“If I’d tried to call your cell, you wouldn’t have been able to hear it over the mating cries of the hoochies at whatever happy hour you usually frequent.”
He slapped a hand to his chest and made an expression of pain. “You wound me. Is that what you think of me? And do you see me at happy hour? No, I’m here, about to enjoy a delicious family dinner.”
