Ants and all.
Or maybe he owned an exterminator company.
She sighed. Given her track record of being lovable, she was betting on the latter.
Jackson idly scratchedat the red bumps popping up on his right hand while he watched the Honda Civic pull out of the parking lot. Never would’ve guessed Kaci was doing him a favor making him and Lance watch that old crappy girly movie about that Greek wedding last night, but he wished he’d squirted his itchy hand with the Windex before he let Miss Late Yankee peel out of here.
Should’ve told her to change the label on it too:Windex, Ant Killer, and Bite Spray. He opened the Jetta’s door, chuckling about the labels on her trunk organizer and boxes. His favorite had been the one labeledJerkface’s Stuff.
Northern folk weren’t so bad. He knew that after spending a spell or two up past the Mason-Dixon line, but he hadn’t met many who would offer to write his momma a note excusinghim from being a gentleman. Between that and her sad doe eyes, he reckoned he didn’t have much choice but to leave her his number. She wouldn’t use it, hoity-toity Northerner who stared down her nose like that when his accent hit her, but she looked like she needed some reminding she was pretty.
Especially when she let loose a smile, even if it was because she thought he was some dumb redneck. He grinned bigger. Would’ve played dumb to put her at ease, gentleman that he was, but he did love playing mind games with Northerners.
The sound of his phone hollering out “Sweet Home Alabama” in the cup holder killed his amusement real quick.
Momma liked to say God made man for practice and woman for perfection, but Jackson reckoned that was before Momma and Daddy made Louisa. Didn’t mean he could ignore her call, though. He settled into the driver’s seat and picked up the phone. “Yes, ma’am?”
“Jackson Davis, where is my car?”
Maybe he’d take the long way up to Auburn. Reconsider this whole moving-back-close-to-home idea, if Uncle Sam and his new landlord would let him. He gave the Jetta’s wheel a tap. “Right here.”
He didn’t remember girls huffing at him like that back when he was in college. Thought they all gave it up by then. But not Louisa. Must’ve been a generation thing.
“You said you’d be home an hour ago,” she said.
“Car wasn’t done yet. You got somewhere to be?”
“No, you’re just slower’n an elephant chasing a tiger with a football.”
Jackson dropped his head back against the seat. “Pretty strong fighting words. Bit early, isn’t it?”
“Never too early to remind a traitor where he stands.”
And here they went. “You want your car, or you want your car running?”
“Both.”
He scratched the back of his hand again. Now what elsehad he expected from a female? Perfection indeed. Girl didn’t know how good she had it, having a stepdad with the connections for a vegetable oil engine retrofit and a brother with the time to come all the way across the country and bring it over to Georgia for the work.
Or maybe he had it good, getting that excuse to leave Auburn early last week and stay here a couple extra nights while he took care of what he told them all was military business.
“Don’t you have some studying to be doing?” he said.
Wasn’t every woman that could narrow her eyes out loud, but Louisa could. “You’re not late because you’ve been playing kissy-face with some girl, are you?”
“You wanting your car so you can play kissy-face with some boy in it?” Sweet Lord, when had she gotten old enough for that? And what was worse, thinking of his baby sister making out with some yahoo, or suddenly picturing himself showing Miss Late Yankee how a man did things in the South?
“She know she’s toast soon as hunting season rolls around?” Louisa said.
“He know I’ve added to Daddy’s old shotgun collection?”
Louisa snickered. “How dumb do you think I am to go flirting with boys who’d be scared of the likes of you?”
He opened his mouth, but since he didn’t have as much of a clue as he should’ve as to what kind of boys Louisa brought home, he reckoned he’d better not jump into that one without thinking it through first. Wasn’t sure which one of them would look dumber if he did, and he wasn’t keen on him being the one.
“Huh,” she said. “Gotcha there, don’t I?”
“You ever park on top of an ant hill?” he asked finally.
