AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Alana cleared her throat and turned to me. “Stop changing the subject. You did something, Hunter Jackson.” Her face lit up. “Hold on… hold on. You hooked up with Junior Nutter! Oh my God, you did. Look at your cheeks! They’re like my old Raggedy Ann doll with the red patches. Tell me everything!”
The image of Charlie’s red lips stretched tight around my cock flashed into my mind. “Ohhhh, oh, no. Nooo, absolutely not. Nothing to tell, really. Ab-so-lute-ly noth-ing.”
Everyone stared at me, but it was my dad who whistled low under his breath. “Who knew you were such a terrible liar? You beat me all the time at poker. How is that possible?”
I got up and busied myself with checking the leftovers to make sure they were properly stored. Improperly stored leftovers were the single biggest cause of post-Thanksgiving Day food poisoning.
At least, I assumed that was the case. It sounded good anyway.
Mom came up behind me and pulled the containers from my hands to return them to the fridge. Once she closed the refrigerator door, she turned me around and clasped my upper arms.
“Hunter Briggs Jackson,” she said. Instead of the angry tone she usually used when she full-named me, this time, it was the tender, loving tone that made me feel like a little boy who was about to get one of Lurleen’s Life Lessons.
“Lurleen Calhoun Davenport Jackson,” I parroted, but she ignored it.
“I think you’re doing the right thing to guard your heart and reject Junior. He’s not from around here.”
I frowned. That was not at all what I’d expected her to say. “He’s literally from the Thicket,” I corrected. “And his name is Charlie.”
“You know what I mean. He’s not sticking around. His people never do.” She sniffed, punctuating the vague reference to Charlie’s father, who’d done the unthinkable: slept with a country music star’s gorgeous young daughter and had the audacity to profit off it. “So it’s all for the best that you keep that boy at arm’s length. Ignore his pushy come-ons or whatever it is he’s doing, and keep your eyes on your own page. Keep your vehicle in your own lane and your eyes on the road.”
She was losing me with her metaphors.
“I’m… I’m not driving with him. Or whatever,” I said. “I know he’s going back to Chicago. I know that.”
She nodded. “Good. That’s all I wanted to be sure of. Because he’s a nice boy, but upon further reflection, I’ve realized he’s not for you. Not at all. Definitely, definitely not. In fact, I would be… I would be horrified and appalled if you ended up with him. I would… I would never speak to you again.”
“You promise?” I teased.
My mother batted my shoulder. “I’m serious, Hunter. Deadly serious.”
“Uh-huh.” I tilted my head to look at her. “Reverse psychology’s not your usual move.”
She patted her perfect hair nervously. “I… I don’t know what you could mean. I’m just looking out for you, baby.”
“And I appreciate that,” I agreed. “Please pass my thanks on to Ms. Nutter, too, when you’re texting her later.”
Her shoulders slumped. “Katie-Bird and I told Cindy Ann this would never work,” she muttered. “But Cindy Ann’s got an undeniable matchmaking track record, so I had to give it a whirl.”
“I understand.” I leaned forward to give her a hug. “Thanks for looking out for me, Mom. I appreciate it.” I pulled back and met her eyes. “And I’m glad you like Charlie. He’s a good man.”
She watched me warily. “You’re not still holding a grudge about Dolly, are you?”
“No. We, ah…” I glanced behind her at Alana, who was showing Aunt Connie some photos on her phone. “We talked, and it turns out he had a good reason for doing what he did. I’m over it, just like you and Dad said I should be.”
She pressed her lips together, clearly dying to ask for an explanation, but before she could, I pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I’m going to head home. Thanks for everything. The food was amazing, as usual.”
“You going to take some of these leftovers?”
“Nah, I’ll come by and eat them here. I know where you live,” I said with a wink.
I waved goodbye to everyone else before slipping out the door and heading back to my place.
It was already nine o’clock, but I hoped Charlie was still up for a visit. I pulled my phone out and shot him a text.
Hunter: I’m home. Stop by if you’re free.
I entered the house and spent a few minutes cleaning up. I changed the sheets, swapped out fresh towels for my damp ones, and made sure the porch light was on. By eleven, he still hadn’t responded. At midnight, I had to face the fact that he wasn’t coming. No one would show up at someone’s place after midnight without at least texting first.
