Walking on Sunshine (6 page)

“Oh my God, wait. Did you . . . did you jump from the
deck
?” She made it sound as if he'd taken a flying leap off a jagged cliff.

Garret nodded. He looked up and realized it was higher than he'd thought. “Yeah, so what?”

“Are you crazy?”

“I think we've established that fact already.” He started walking, trying to hide the needles of pain shooting from his ankle up his leg. And he thought he might have a splinter in his foot too.
Bloody hell
.

Mattie followed him, shivering and sputtering. “What if you'd broken a leg . . . or your fool neck?”

Garret paused and gave her a look. “And what if you'd drowned in the damn river?”

“I wasn't going to drown, for Pete's sake! I grew up on this river!”

“What about snakes?”

“They swim away more afraid of us than we are of them.”

“Yeah, that's what people say, but I never did buy in to that rubbish and I wasn't going to take that damn chance!” He really wanted to add a bit of a stomp to his gait but couldn't. “Why on earth are you following me?”

“I want to make sure you put ice on that ankle and that it's not broken.”

“It's not broken. I've had enough broken bones to know. Go back to your party, Mattie. I'll be fine.”

“You're as stubborn as a mule.”

“I've been called way worse.” He continued to hobble over to the steps leading to the back deck. Damn, it really was pretty far up there and he had to grin. “I bet Dominick the swashbuckling pirate would have jumped to your rescue.” Garret meant it as a joke, but he heard her soft intake of breath, wondering what that meant. He would just bet if that clod Colby had come to her rescue Mattie would have been swooning and falling into his arms.

And then a thought hit him that he should probably discard, but when had that ever stopped him? “All right, then, follow me inside.”

“Finally you're talking with some sense.”

“I know—amazing, right? Almost never happens. Mark this day in history. I think I need to Tweet this.”

“You don't have to be a jackass, you know.”

Garret gave her a sideways glance. “And here I thought I was a mule.”

They'd reached the bottom of the steps. “Aren't they about the same thing?”

“No.” Garret paused with his hand on the railing. “Actually a jack is a male donkey or ass, thus the term jackass. When a jackass is bred to a female horse, the result is a mule. So there you have it.” When she just blinked at him he chuckled. “I told you I read a lot. I am chock-full of useless knowledge unless you're playing trivia and then you'll want me on your team.”

“They play trivia at Sully's Tavern on Thursdays. I'll keep that in mind.”

Garret stepped aside for Mattie to climb the stairs first. He was being a gentleman, but the wet denim clung to her cute little bum and he couldn't stop himself from a bit of admiration. When they reached the deck he walked or rather limped over and slid the door open. “After you.”

“This is nice,” Mattie said with a look around, but when the air-conditioning hit her she immediately hugged her arms across her chest. He was a bit cold too. “I peeked in the windows when it was for sale, but I've never been inside.”

“I know. I fell in love with the rustic beauty when my dad's wife, Maggie, showed it to me,” Garret said. “Of course I'll eventually furnish it the way I want to, but this works for now.” When he saw her shiver he said, “I'll round up some sweatpants and a shirt. You'll swim in them but at least be warm.”

“No! I want you to get off that ankle.”

“You won't stop me, you know, me being the jackass-slash-mule and all that. You know I think you need to shorten that term of endearment.” He tapped his cheek. “Ah, how about Jamule?”

Mattie laughed. “All right, Jamule, I'll toss some ice in a plastic bag while you round up some dry clothing.”

“You'll find the bags in the drawer closest to the dishwasher.” With a nod Garret headed into the master bedroom and located a pair of gray sweatpants along with a T-shirt with the red London flag embossed on the front. He peeled off his wet clothes and found another pair of sweatpants and went into the bathroom to dry off. He looked at the shower with a bit of longing, wanting to wash off the river, but he didn't want Mattie to catch cold, so he tugged on the pants and pulled the drawstring. He looked at his reflection in the mirror and had to grin. Jumping off the back deck to the rescue?

He wasn't quite sure how Mattie was going to react to the proposition he'd just thought up, but these days he was all about giving what he wanted his best shot rather than not putting forth much effort. When he walked back into the living room, Mattie handed him a bag of crushed ice wrapped in a dish towel and pointed to the large leather sectional.

“Please get off that foot.”

“Yes, ma'am.” He handed her the clothes. “You can change in the bathroom off the master bedroom.”

“Okay, thanks.” Did she just give his chest a once-over?

“Oh, and the laundry room is next to the kitchen if you want to toss your wet clothes in the dryer.”

“That's a good idea.” Mattie nodded. “Now put the ice on your ankle to stop the swelling. Elevate it with a pillow and you need to take an ibuprofen to stop the inflammation. Do you have some?”

“In the medicine cabinet.”

“Good. Hopefully you've just sprained or twisted it, but if the pain persists we need to get to the emergency room for X-rays.”

“Why do you sound like a nurse?”

“Because my mom is a nurse. She wanted me to follow in her footsteps.”

“Why didn't you?”

“Because . . .” She pushed a lock of wet hair from her face.

“Go on.”

“Because I can't stomach the sight of . . .
blood
.” She shivered and this time Garret knew it wasn't just from being cold. “And I detest
getting
a shot, so how could I ever
give one
to somebody? Having a nurse faint all the time might be a job hazard, don't you think?” She chuckled, but there was something in her eyes that looked so sad. “I really have admiration for what they do.”

“And this disappointed your mum?”

She fiddled with the fringe on her shorts. “Yeah, because I had the grades and got into nursing school, but it just wasn't for me. I know she thinks that cooking breakfast and cleaning cabins isn't
living up to my potential
,” Mattie said in a mock tone that must be an imitation of her mother's. She sighed. “Look, I know that she meant well. But I enjoy cooking, so what's wrong with that?” she asked in an emotional tone, but before Garret could answer she pivoted and headed into his bedroom to change. He sensed that she didn't want him to see her so vulnerable and had to shake his head. Mattie Mayfield wasn't as tough as she made herself out to be. Not by a long shot.

Damn, she was cute.

Garret eased down onto the cool leather couch and then used one of the decorative pillows to prop up his throbbing injury. Bending forward, he placed the bag of ice over his swollen ankle, wincing when the cold heaviness added to the discomfort. Looking toward his bedroom, he thought that wanting to please parents was another thing he and Mattie had in common. The difference in their circumstances was that Mattie's mother wanted her daughter to follow in her footsteps when Garret's father balked at Garret wanting to break into the music industry. At the time Garret had thought his father didn't want him to steal any of his rock legend
thunder because in truth Garret was every bit as good a musician as the famous Rick Ruleman and he sure as hell wanted to prove it. It wasn't until recently that he learned that his father didn't want Garret to go down the wrong path and live a lonely life on the road. His father had also owned up to his mistakes, and his admission and apology went a long way toward mending their relationship, but it was still a work in progress. Of course Garret's own selfish antics hadn't helped, but that was all in the past and he was hell-bent on living for the future.

Garret leaned his head back against the cushion and blew out a sigh. When his relationship with his father had improved, they'd made the effort to start fresh. When Addison Monroe pointed out that Garret needed to make a name, a life for himself on his own merit rather than on the coattails of his dad, he'd scoffed at the notion. Why not cash in on his father's fame? He'd suffered enough because of it and had thought it his right to take advantage. But now he understood. And he felt so much better for it.

A moment later Mattie walked into the living room with her wet hair pulled up into a damp ponytail. She looked super feminine wearing Garret's way-too-big pants and shirt. She'd rolled up the waist, but the legs bunched up around her ankles. When she walked closer he noted that her toenails were painted a light shade of pink. When she saw him eyeing her feet she looked down as well.

“What are you looking at?”

“Your feet. They're cute.”

“You're silly,” she said, and it made Garret a bit sad that she didn't know how to take a compliment. He remembered her surprise when he'd admired her lovely eyes.

“Well, I guess that's a step up from a Jamule, although the term is kind of growing on me. I think it belongs in the Urban Dictionary.”

“With your picture by it?” She laughed. “Yeah, I
know. I kinda like it too.” She handed him the ibuprofen along with a bottle of water.

“Thanks.” He took the pill, hoping it would ease the pain. “Hey, would you like something to drink? Beer? Wine?”

“Bourbon?”

“Sorry. Don't have any bourbon, I'm afraid.”

“You're living in Kentucky now. You have to stock up on bourbon.”

“I don't know much about it. Will you teach me?” he asked, thinking this was a pretty good way to slide into the direction he wanted this conversation to go.

“Sure. I know my way around good bourbon.”

“And fishing?”

“You want to learn to fish too?” Mattie reached down and lifted the bag of ice from his ankle and gave it a look before gently putting it back in place.

“I do. Along with anything else that will help me fit in around here. Well, with the exception of noodling, I think.”

“Really?” Mattie tilted her head while nibbling on the inside of her lip. “I had you pegged for someone who wants to stand out.”

“A lot of people have me pegged as being something I'm not. And of course most of that is my own damn doing. But for once in my life I'd like to blend in. Or I guess just be accepted, really. I want to learn all about how to live in Cricket Creek. You know, tubing and all that.”

“Wait a minute.” Mattie grinned. “Let me get this straight. You want lessons in being a . . . well, a redneck?”

“Yes, I suppose I do. Are you willing?”

Mattie nibbled on the inside of her cheek and then held up her index finger. “On one condition.”

“Only one?”

She nodded.

“Name it.”

Here Comes the Sun

“T
HAT YOU TE
ACH ME HOW TO BE A . . . Y
OU KNOW . . .
lady,”
Mattie said, and felt a little surge of excitement at the prospect.

Garret frowned at her. “I don't think that you're
not
a lady, Mattie. Why don't you go grab us something to drink and we'll talk about it? I'd go myself, but—”

“Don't you dare move,” Mattie ordered, and headed into the kitchen that was off to the side of the great room. She snagged two beers from the fridge and walked over and handed one to him before sitting down at the other end of the L-shaped sofa. She'd seen bare chests for as long as she could remember. But for some reason seeing
his
bare chest made her want to go over there and run her fingers over his skin. He had a golden tan with just a sprinkling of tawny chest hair. While his build wasn't as thick as Colby's, she found his wide shoulders and toned torso appealing.

“Mattie?”

“Um . . .” Oh, crap, she'd been staring. “Sorry. I was thinkin' of some questions,” she lied.

“So I guess you're a bit of a tomboy. Am I right?”

“Okay, so sure, I was brought up right with manners and all that good stuff, but with having two brothers and working at the marina ever since I can remember, I've always been one of the boys. I never had much time to do things like hang out at the mall with girlfriends. I feel like I could be more refined, you know? My mama tried to get me to be more girlie, but in truth other than cooking, I preferred being outdoors. And to be honest she's kinda outdoorsy too.”

“Nothing really wrong with that, I'd say.”

“Yeah, I liked playing ball more than playing with dolls.” She took a drink of her beer and then shrugged. “So there you have it.”

“Well, I'm a guy, so I'm not sure how I can help you all that much.”

“Well, I mean, your mama is a famous fashion model, so I think you know your way around how a girl should dress, right? London is full of fashion and you spent a lot of time there, right?”

“True.”

She ran her fingertip over the edge of the can and waited for him to answer. “I mean, I know I don't have long legs and—”

“Your legs are just fine. Shapely, in fact.”

Mattie looked down at her legs, not quite believing him.

“Somehow I think there's more to this than learning how to dress. Am I right?” he asked quietly.

“Yeah. . . .” Mattie swallowed hard and nodded. “I'm so over being treated like one of the guys. I mean, just like you said, it's my fault too but I want that to change.” She patted her chest and felt hot moisture well up in her throat. “Don't get me wrong. I love fishing and softball and camping, but . . .” She closed her eyes and inhaled a shaky breath.

“But let me guess, you want flowers and candlelit dinners and dancing in the moonlight.”

“Yeah.” Mattie gave him a quick little nod. “I'm no
different than anybody else. I—I want a boyfriend. Someone to be there for me.”
To fall madly in love with me,
she thought, but couldn't bring herself to say it.

“And you want to capture the attention of that big clod Colby?”

“He's not a big clod.”

Garret gave her a long look of disagreement.

“Okay . . . I get where you're coming from.” She tipped her head to the side. “He's not usually like he was earlier. Colby is a good guy, truly. He just had too much shine tonight.”

If Garret had a different opinion he politely kept it to himself. “And you've had a crush on him forever.”

“Um . . . yeah.” She felt heat creep into her cheeks. “But he's always had some leggy, prissy thing on his arm.”

“Maybe he's not the right guy for you if that's what he's after,” Garret said slowly. “We just met, but I can tell you that there's more substance to you than just a pretty face. And I would find prissy quite annoying.”

“Thank you,” Mattie said, and gave him a smile. She had the sneaking suspicion that there were many more layers to Garret than most people realized as well. “I think we both might be a little misunderstood.”

“Ah, part of our mystique.”

Mattie laughed. “If you say so.”

“Hey, I don't jump off of a sky-high deck for just anyone,” he said with a laugh.

“Well, don't ever do that again.” Mattie searched for the words to make Garret understand that Colby was everything she wanted in a guy . . . in a boyfriend. She watched the play of muscle when he lifted his arm to take a swig of his beer.
Until now,
went through her head, but she dismissed it. She was falling under his charming and rather rakish spell.

“I have to say that I'm surprised that one of these guys hasn't already gone after you, Mattie.”

“Laura Lee was saying the same thing earlier.” She
took a swig of her drink and tried to explain. “My brothers, Mason and Danny, were always so overprotective of me, so that never helped my situation. I became the kid sister to all the eligible boys near my age.” She shrugged. “I fell into that unwanted role and now I need your help to break out.”

“So I'm going to teach you how to stand out and you're going to teach me how to fit in. Interesting.”

“That's a good plan, right?” Mattie laughed. “I'll show you the finer points of being a redneck.”

“Think I can pull it off?”

“With that accent? And that Keith Urban hair? I'm not sure. It even sounds polite when you curse.”

Garret laughed. “I have to ask. Is redneck a term you embrace?”

“Not always.” Mattie shrugged. “The term redneck originated when farmers would get their necks burnt from toiling in the sun. It can be used as a derogatory term by some, but we let it roll off our backs. To us it means hardworking, down-home folk with good values. Television pokes fun with stupid reality shows and comedy, but I'm proud of where I come from.” She leaned forward and patted her chest. “Who I am.”

Garret took a sip of his beer. “Go on, then.”

“What makes you think I had more to say?”

“I could see it in those expressive eyes of yours.” Garret adjusted the bag of ice when it slid sideways. “Let's establish right now that we're friends. What you tell me goes nowhere. And no matter what you might think or have read about me, my word is good.”

“I believe you.” And in truth Mattie really had no concrete reason to trust Garret Ruleman, but she looked at the sincerity on his face and somehow just
did
. “Okay . . .” She licked her bottom lip and then after another deep breath mustered up the courage to say, “For once in my life I want to walk into a room and turn heads.”

“Darling, you could stop traffic. You just don't know it.”

“Oh, come on, do you think I could actually do that?”

“Are you kidding me?” Garret looked up at the ceiling and then back at her.

Mattie put one hand over her eyes. “Pretend I never asked you that. Please. God, I am such a dork.”

“A dork? Who even says that?”

“Me?” she asked with a wince. “Proving my own point.”

“Seriously do I need to limp over there and pry your hand from your pretty face again?” Garret lowered his head a notch and gave her a stern stare.

“Maybe,” she said between her fingers, but when he started to push up from the cushions, she shook her head. “No! Don't you dare put weight on your ankle!” She lowered her hand to point over at him.

“Don't point that thing at me unless it's loaded.”

She arched an eyebrow. “It is.”

“All right, then I'd better behave.”

“That's more like it, Jamule.”

“I rather like that endearment.” When Garret eased back against the cushions, Mattie breathed a sigh of relief. “Maybe I should get it tattooed across my chest. What do you think?”

“No!” Mattie hated the thought of him marring that gorgeous body. “I mean, I don't think that would be the image you're going for around here,” she said in a softer tone.

“I was joking.”

“Oh. Well, I was just giving you sound advice.” She looked over at him and said firmly, “You know what?”

He raised his eyebrows. “What?”

“Try this on for size.” Mattie lifted her chin and then lost her nerve.

“I'm waiting.”

“I like you. What do you think about that?”

“Well . . .” Garret looked at her for a moment as if no one had ever said that to him.

“Cat got your tongue?”

“I never did understand that phrase. Do cats really get one's tongue?”

Mattie laughed. “I hope not, but if they did it would prevent speaking.”

“True enough.”

“I do like you.” Mattie thought about all the crazy stories she'd read about him and wondered how many of them were fabricated or not even remotely true. “Has anybody ever said that to you before?”

“Of course, but in truth I haven't been all that likable, I'm afraid.”

“Well, you are, so there.”

“Has anyone ever told you you're pretty?” he countered.

“No,” Mattie said because she thought she could tell this man, this so-called celebrity, anything. “I mean, my parents and granny, but they don't count.”

“First of all, they do count. But no boy has ever said that to you?”

“Nope.”

“Well, then, they are all . . .” He lifted one hand as if searching for the right word.

“Dumb asses?”

“Yes, as opposed to the very cool Jamule.”

Mattie leaned against the butter-soft leather and looked over at Garret. “So, are we gonna do this?”

“Make each other over?”

Mattie nodded. “You make me into a hot chick and I turn you into an English redneck hybrid that will drive the local girls wild?”

“Yes, a new breed of . . . something never seen before around these parts. I like it.” He gave her a nod. “All right, then. I'm in if you're in.”

Mattie pushed up from the sofa and went over to shake his hand. “Deal.” She gave him a firm handshake the way her daddy taught her.

“So, when do the joint classes begin?”

“I think the sooner the better, don't you agree?”

“Absolutely.” Garret nodded. “I think the first thing
we need to do is shop. I need boots and you need heels. It's always best to look the part.”

“Agreed.”

“You have a passport, right?”

“A . . . passport?” Mattie felt her eyes widen. “Um, yes, I went on a cruise to the Bahamas with my parents last year and I had to get a passport. Why?”

“You never know. We might want to pay my mum a visit sometime.” Garret grinned. “As you said she's a famous fashion model, so we might just want to get her input.”

“You mean . . . go to
London
, and I don't mean London, Kentucky? You're joking, right?”

“There's a London, Kentucky?”

“Yes, and a Paris too.” While her parents had taken family vacations, they'd visited places like Daytona Beach and Disney World. Other than the cruise to the Bahamas, she'd never been out of the country. She'd dreamed of visiting Europe but never thought it could really happen. In fact, she found the thought exciting but also intimidating.

“I did mean London, England. Don't look so stunned, love. It was only an offhand suggestion for a possible future excursion. We could Skype or something instead.”

“I guess that hopping on a plane and heading to London is normal for you.” She pointed to her chest. “For me? Not so much. Wait, not at all.”

“Some might say that there's nothing normal about me.” Garret chuckled but then shrugged. “I haven't made the effort to visit my mum enough lately,” he said with a bit of a sad tone. “I need to change that.”

“I know what you mean. I miss my parents too.”

“I put my poor mum through hell with worry.”

“Don't be so hard on yourself. My brothers were a bit on the wild side too. Trust me, country boys work hard but play harder.”

“It just took me a bit longer than most to grow up.”
He pointed to the sofa. “All right, then. Have a seat and let's put a schedule and game plan together. A week or so from now or whenever you're ready, we can make our debut somewhere in town.”

“You mean when you're ready.”

“That too.”

“I'm a note taker. I need a pen and paper.” Mattie rubbed her hands together. “Let's get this party started.”

“I have a desk in my bedroom with a printer. Grab some of that paper and there should be a pen there too.”

Mattie headed back into his bedroom and flipped on the light. She spotted his desk in the corner and hurried over to get the paper and pen, but before leaving his room she took a little nosy quick glance around. The bed was made but done up a little bit crooked as if dressing a bed wasn't something Garret was used to doing. For some reason the thought made her smile. Just the barest hint of his aftershave lingered in the air. The blue shirt he'd worn earlier was tossed onto the bedspread and she had the odd urge to pick up the shirt and hold it to her nose. “Okay, that would be weird,” she whispered, but almost did it anyway.

Mattie shook her head and backed away. While there was no denying that she found Garret charming and attractive . . . and, okay, downright sexy, he'd just made it abundantly clear that he wanted to be friends.

He's far too worldly for the likes of me,
Mattie thought as she walked over to turn off the light. And besides, Colby Campbell was the man she'd dreamed of and wanted for as long as she could remember. Garret Ruleman was her ticket to getting Colby, nothing more except for friendship, and she'd best remember that fact or she just might chase the man away.