Page 76 of Feel It in the Air

I nod, the nerves lightening, helping to ease some of the tension. But only some. Knowing that certainly helps me feel better about not ruining the afternoon, but it doesn’t undo my crappy morning.

Gus can read it all over my face. Scanning me, as if I were an open textbook lying on a table for public consumption, he knows I’m flustered about way more than running behind.

“What happened?” he asked. For a second I consider blowing off his question. Telling him nothing. I don’t want to burden him with this any more than I have to. Today is not about that. Today is about being with boyfriend Gus and his family. Not boss Gus. But he beats me to it. “And don’t tell me ‘nothing.’ I can read you, Margeaux. And I know when something is upsetting you. What’d she do?”

The fact that I don’t even have to say her name should say something. Everything actually.

“She cornered me about the drugstore building,” I admit. “We were the only two left in the office after about eleven-thirty, and I went to go print something, and she caught me in the copy room, blocking the door, refusing to move until I told her what I know. I insisted that I don’t know anything, but she doesn’t believe me.”

“Probably because I asked, again, why I don’t have that report that was due last week, and what’s taking so long. Told her that if I didn’t have it on my desk by Monday, there would be action taken. Percy will be back, so we can start getting back to normal. Which might also have her a little on edge, since he won’t be happy with what I have to report back.”

“Yeah, well, she seems to think I have some magic answer. Threw this whole hissy fit, stomping her feet, flailing her arms, telling me that if I don’t tell her what I know, then she’s going to ‘make my life miserable.’”

Gus reels backward. “Make your life miserable? Were those her exact words?” I nod. Because yes, crazy lady has really lost the plot now. “Do you feel threatened?”

I sputter out a laugh. Reaching for him, I wrap my fingers in his shirt again, pulling him back in for a kiss. It’s slower, sweeter than before, but just as powerful. My knees are still jelly, because the power this man has over me is undeniable.

“No. I just wish she would turn her focus on someone else. Let me do my job.”

Soft, gentle lips press against my forehead, as strong arms wrap around me. I follow his lead, circling his waist, squeezing, and holding on as tight as I can, relishing the feel of being in his arms. The safety. The security. The love.

Yeah, love.

My pulse skitters and my breath catches, the realization that I’m falling—hard—for this man catching up with me. As is the growing desire to put a voice to those feelings.

Gravel crunches behind us, and I stiffen in Gus’s embrace, all the tensions he kissed out of me returning with the harsh noise. Gus chuffs, the sound reminding me of the family dog back home expressing his displeasure with being disturbed. Neither of us lets go however, our hold on each other remaining as steady as our heartbeats, holding on to the moment as long as we can. The beautifully serene and intimate moment.

“What are you doin’ here?” Anton asks, his voice full of accusation and irritation rather than curiosity or welcome.

So much for our serene and intimate moment.

“Am I not allowed to come say hello?” Willa replies, her voice as saccharine sweet as homemade simple syrup, her Georgia accent just as thick. All of it put on for show too. I don’t even have to turn around to know she’s up to something.

“I do believe you have your own Friendsgiving,” Anton shoots back, clearly ready to push some buttons.

From what Gus has told me, this shouldn’t come as a surprise—he is the family instigator. A statement that I am still in awe of, since each one of these boys has a mischievous side. Each one of them knows exactly what to do to get the others riled up, so for one to stand out as the “instigator,” Anton must have some serious tricks up his sleeve.

Then again, so does Willa.

“Fine. Then I’ll just leave. And I’ll take the peach pound cake with me.”

The way she emphasizes the words peach pound cake—long, drawn out, and like they are worth their weight in gold—catches my attention. More than that, the way Gus’s head pops up, like a gopher popping up out of its hole.

“Peach pound cake?” he repeats, once again making the words sound like she just told everyone she had the winning lottery ticket.

“As in, the peach pound cake?” Milo asks.

I peer around Gus, suddenly realizing that it’s not just Anton who has joined us, but all of the Hayes boys. Milo, Anton, Hux, and Jace, all lined up in age order like they were getting in formation for Captain Von Trapp, stand at attention behind Gus, waiting on confirmation from their sister.

All because of peach pound cake.

Forget a milkshake, those three words brought all the boys to the yard.

“As in the peach pound cake!” Willa very proudly declares, holding a saran-wrapped plate above her head and sashaying toward her brothers.

Her poise and grace shine through, her beauty queen days still deeply engrained in her, even while gloating. Although, I have to admit, I’m more than a little lost as to why she’s gloating. Clearly there is something very special about this pound cake.

“Mama K gave you the recipe early?” Milo asks, excitement laced in his words.