Truth or Beard(79)

And, truthfully, part of the problem was I just liked him so much.

I wasn’t going to play games, games were dishonest, but I made a solemn promise to be more circumspect and careful about flinging my heart and panties at him in the future. He’d caught me unawares with his backstage trickery, then his vulnerable honesty at the lake. I decided I was going to slow down, adopt a more mindful attitude. If he wanted to take things slow then I could take things slow, too.

When the service was over just thirty-five minutes after it had begun, I was surprised my father didn’t rush out of church; he even placed a staying hand on my arm when I moved to leave the pew.

“Just a sec, Jess.”

I glanced at him, allowing my confusion to show on my face.

My daddy gave me a small smile and lifted his chin toward the aisle where people were filtering out. “Your young man is here. Wouldn’t be right, leaving without a word to Duane.”

I squinted at my father, immediately suspicious of his intentions. At best my father was indifferent to all my previous boyfriends—the ones he’d met anyway—and at worst he’d been dismissive and rude.

“Daddy, is this your way of telling me you like Duane Winston?” I whispered.

“No. This is my way of telling you I like Duane Winston,” he cleared his throat and returned my squinty expression, “Jess, I like Duane Winston.”

I couldn’t help the surprised laugh that bubbled forth or the smile of wonder that claimed my features as I studied my daddy. “But you don’t like anybody.”

“That’s because ain’t nobody good enough for you.”

“And Duane is?”

“No. But his momma, rest her soul, was the best sort. Now, if I had my pick I’d have rathered Cletus or Billy, but you know how Jackson and I are worthless with cars. It would be nice to have a mechanic in the family.”

I’m sure my eyes bulged. “Daddy. We just started dating!”

“Yeah, but it’s clear that man has his mind set on the long term, and if Duane Winston turns out to be a reason for you to stay in Green Valley instead of following through with your absurd plans, then I’ll happily put up with him courting my daughter.”

I gave my daddy a sad smile and my heart fell just a tad. He didn’t bring up my plans to leave often, but when he did, he always used words like absurd, reckless, preposterous, misguided, and foolish—stopping just short of calling me stupid. I didn’t like disappointing my parents, so I never brought them up.

“Hello, sir.”

I twisted back toward the aisle, finding Duane standing just inside our pew with his hand outstretched to my father. The other three Winstons were loitering in the pew to my right. I realized they were all waiting to pay their respects.

After greeting my father, Duane turned his attention to me. He didn’t offer his hand. Instead he stuffed both into his pockets, nodding once in my direction and saying, “Jessica,” in that way he did, with a slight whisper, and giving me the entirety of his intense focus.

“Hi, Duane.” I tried to be circumspect and mindful—after all we were still in church—but it didn’t work. My simple greeting sounded beyond delighted even to my ears, verging on enthusiastic. Music only I could hear switched on; this time is it was Just the Way You Are, by Bruno Mars—except the shes were replaced with hes.

Goodness, I was pathetic.

Because of the distracting music in my head and the intensity of Duane’s attention, I missed most of the other conversation, and the friendly chit-chat between my daddy and the rest of the Winston boys. I was only able to recover when Duane shifted his attention back to my father.

“I imagine you and Jess have plans for the day?” I heard my daddy ask.

We didn’t. We hadn’t made any plans.

Therefore, I was surprised when Duane nodded. “Yes, sir. We do.”

“What are you kids up to?” he asked, using his Sheriff’s voice.

“We’re heading to the shop and I’m planning to teach Jessica how to change a tire.”

I’m sure my face betrayed my astonishment. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Beau try to hide his smirk, and I was glad my back was mostly to my father so he couldn’t see my expression.

“Good idea, son. While you’re at it, teach her how to check the fluids, change the oil and such. Then she can teach me and Jackson.”

“Be happy to, sir.” Duane gave my daddy a short, respectful nod then returned his eyes to mine; once again I was struck by how he was looking at me.

He was looking at me like he had plans.

***

“Brown sugar? Why would he put brown sugar in the radiator?”