Every Yesterday (Boot Creek) (22 page)

Megan’s ears pricked. What did he mean?

“She isn’t going to sell you that car.”

Megan sucked in a breath. Her fingers pulled into tight fists.

“It’s not over yet.” Noah sounded confident. And yet they’d just had this conversation earlier. Could he have been playing her this whole time? She brushed her fingers across her brow. Suddenly she felt hot. Hotter than if she’d been standing on Main Street in a parka on Fourth of July.

Ford’s voice carried down the hall
.
“I was talking to Derek. He said she’d never sell that car.”

“You told him about the bet? Man, we don’t even know him. Why’d you go and do that?”

She peeked around the corner. She didn’t know them well enough to know who was who talking, but this conversation was bringing a whole new clarity to Noah’s generous offer this afternoon.

“
Hell
, no, I didn’t tell Derek about the bet. We were talking about the car. He started telling me about how much it means to her. I think all the charm in the world isn’t going to work for you this time, Noah. But on the bright side, Jackson will be treating Angie to an extra thousand dollars’ worth of fun on their honeymoon. Good for Jackson. And at least you won’t break a heart on this trip.”

She stepped farther into the room and leaned against the wall. He’d been playing her the whole time? What a fool she’d been. She’d confided in him.

Hot tears of anger burned her eyes. She tiptoed back into the washroom and ran a bright white washcloth under the sink. She dabbed a cloth over her eyes. Cooling them, and hoping to keep her eyes from reddening. Oh no, he wouldn’t get any tears from her. He wasn’t worth it. She’d known better. Why had she let herself be seduced to believe he was anything else but bad news?

She heard Ford and Noah talking as they passed by the suite. She stood in the bathroom. Not likely they’d come in. They hadn’t seen her.

Her breathing was heavy and she needed air. She needed to get the heck out of there. And fast. Rather than have to explain her exit, she walked down the hall in the opposite direction from where everyone was congregating and took the side door out. The DeSoto was parked right there, but she couldn’t take it. Not only did she not want to drive it, but also Jackson and Angie would need it after the cake cutting . . . luring folks to shut down the party. They had it all planned out.

She stood there, shifting back and forth feeling trapped, until she spotted mom’s car parked across the way. She lifted her dress and ran across the lot. Ducking beside the car, it didn’t look like anyone had seen her. The car wouldn’t be locked, but she needed the key to start the thing. She shoved her hand under the wheel well. Like daddy had always taught them, a Hide-A-Key. Momma might not speak all that highly of Daddy anymore, but she still heeded all the advice he’d ever given them.

Megan opened the door and slid into the driver’s seat. Her hand shook as she inserted the key into the ignition. Mom could easily catch a ride home with someone else.

She put the car in reverse and backed out, using all the restraint she possessed not to floor the little Toyota to get the heck out of there without spiting gravel and drawing attention to herself.

Puttering out of the parking lot, she waited until she got clear past the inn before pressing the accelerator. Then dust flew up behind her like a rooster tail. She was glad not to have to see anything in her rearview.

Before she knew it, she was parked behind her car in front of her house. She didn’t even remember steering through the hairpin curve on Blackwater Draw Road, going over the bridge and up the hill or down Main Street.

She laid her arms over the steering wheel and put her head down. The air-conditioning blew against her face. What was she even supposed to say to Noah now?

How could she have been so stupid?

She’d seen the way he’d drooled over Daddy’s car. She knew he was in the car business, and he’d been straight that he’d been looking for a car just like that for a long time. She should have known.

Sitting in the car right in front of her house, she noticed a bright orange slip of paper in the handle of the storm door.

Any reason to not go back and have to face Noah was a good one, although she knew she had to go back. She would never let Angie down. She was important. Noah? He was not.

She got out of the car and walked over to the door. She grabbed the note and started walking back to the car, unrolling it as she did.

A corporate logo filled the top third of the card-stock mailer.

“Reliable Carriers”

Below that someone had written:

Arrived early. I’m parked at the USPS.

Can pick up today if convenient.

Pick up?
The delivery guy had probably gotten the cross streets wrong. For a town as small as Boot Creek, it wasn’t unusual for that to happen. They even got each other’s mail. Funny how that worked.

She ran across the street to spare her feet from the hot asphalt. She would have had to do the same thing with those fancy high heels they’d been wearing; they were almost like going barefoot anyway.

A fancy burgundy and bright orange big rig with fancy black-and-white striping on the cab took up a good portion of the parking lot adjacent to the small post office. The enclosed trailer was as bright as a jack-o’-lantern, but it wasn’t until she had knocked on the truck door that she noticed the smaller words painted there beneath the logo.

V
EHICLES
T
AKEN
S
ERIOUSLY
^®

Her blood pressure rose. Her jaw set. She banged on the door with every ounce of her.

“Whoa. Hang on there. I’
m coming.
” A handsome gray-haired man with a ponytail flung open the door, looking ready to give her a piece of his mind, but calmed into a smile when he saw her standing there. “Good afternoon, young lady. What can I do for you?” He climbed down out of the truck. “Sorry. I was sleeping. Something wrong?”

She flashed the note. She was so darned mad she could barely get her mouth moving. “Got this,” she managed to spit out. Standing there, she shook that paper repeatedly in his direction.

He looked a little worried. “Yeah. Right. Think I could go ahead and load the car today? I was hoping to leave a little early. I have to pick up a car in Oklahoma on my way to California. Every hour sitting is dollars wasting.”

An enclosed car transport trailer? “Who set this up?”

“I take it by your reaction, it was not you.” He reached behind him and pulled out a silver clipboard. “Got that right here. California Dreaming Restoration arranged the haul.”

“Noah.”
Of course he did.
How could she have been such a fool?

“No. I spoke to a nice woman. Here it is. Her name was Sonya. She set it up on Monday.”

“Monday?” Megan thought she might boil over right there and evaporate into the atmosphere. Sonya. Oh yes, he’d mentioned the amazing Sonya. She was probably his girlfriend. Or his wife!

She spat out the words contemptuously. “You can leave whenever you like, because you will be leaving without my car. It is mine. Never has been for sale, and it is not leaving my garage. Ever!”

His mouth twisted up. “I’ll need you to sign my paperwork. They’ll charge them a penalty for this. I went quite a bit out of my way to get here.”

“Have them charge him double. I don’t give a damn.”

He pulled the paper close to his face and then made a couple marks and handed it to her. “Can I get you to sign my paperwork? I can’t leave without a signature. You know, so I get paid.”

“Oh, I’ll sign your paperwork.” She scrawled her name across the paper on the line. Then wrote
unauthorized pickup
across the middle of it. “I’m sorry. I realize this isn’t your fault. But someone is up to no good. I have never had any intention of selling that car.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am. I’m just doing my job.”

“Thank you. I hope they make it up to you. If not, sue his butt. I’ll be happy to press charges to help you get your money.”

She didn’t bother waiting for his response. She marched across the street, oblivious to the heat under her feet, got into the car that was still running in front of her house, and nailed it. She was more than ready to be back at that reception now.

Megan talked to herself the whole ride back to the reception. There was no way she’d let her stupidity or that lying man mess up this day for her best friend.

He wouldn’t know real friendship if it hit him in the face.

Oh, I’ve got a ride for you, Mr. Black.

California Dreaming? Oh, I’ll be your worst nightmare.

She strode in with her head held high.

She needed to check with Jackson and Angie, but it seemed as good a time as any to get the final activities rolling and get this party shut down.

She went over to the band and waited politely as they finished playing, then stepped up on stage. The lead singer stepped back from the mic and handed things over to her.

“Hey y’all,” Megan said. A shrill squeal of feedback pumped out over the speakers. She winced and held the mic out.

The singer ran over and whispered to her.

“Ahh. There’s a trick to it. This is better. How’s everybody doing?”

Everyone clapped.

“For those of you who I haven’t met, I’m Megan Howard and I’m Angie’s best friend and maid of honor. I’m excited to give you a quick heads up that we will be doing the garter and flower toss here in a few minutes. Then . . . what all my young friends have been dying for. The cake! So don’t stray too far. We’ll be doing those things right here in a few minutes.”

“Thanks guys,” she said to the singer. “Two more songs and then we should be ready.” She stepped down to join Angie and Flynn.

“You got it.” He lifted the neck of his guitar and strummed a few chords, and the band fell right in along with him with a fast-rocking version of
Sweet Home Alabama
.

“Thanks, Megan,” Angie said. “You’re the best,” she said as she was being pulled away by Jackson to dance.

Megan forced a smile and nodded.

“What is going on with you?” Flynn said.

“What?” Megan shrugged it off.

“Don’t play that with me. You look like you’re twisted as tight as one of those rubber bands on a balsa wood plane. I’m afraid you’re going to zing right across this room if I don’t calm you down. What is wrong?” Flynn put her hand on Megan’
s arm.

“Noah.” She tugged her arm away from Flynn. “Noah Black is what is wrong with me.” She leaned in. “He’s been playing me just to get his hands on Daddy’s car this whole time. He doesn’t care about me.”

“No,” Flynn shook her head emphatically. “I don’t believe that. I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

“An act. All a big act.” Her voice shook. “Give the man a doggone acting trophy.”

“What makes you think that it’s all a big act? What on earth happened?”

“I heard the guys talking. They made a bet on it. Jackson was in on it too. They must think I’m such a fool.”

“No, Megan.” Flynn blinked. “Jackson wouldn’t have a part of something like that. Something isn’t right.”

“You don’t have to tell me it isn’t right. It’s wrong fourteen ways to Sunday if you ask me.”

“No. I mean, you must be mistaken. I saw the way you and Noah acted. It was there. That little spark from the first moment. Before you even noticed it.”

Megan did not want to hear that mess. “You’re a hopeless romantic, Flynn. You see love when bumblebees fly by.” She instantly felt bad for being so snippy with Flynn. She’d only been trying to help. But this was no time for rainbows and flipping unicorns.

Katy stepped up next to them. “Megan. Calm down. I heard what you just said to Flynn. What is going on between you two? That’s not fair.”

“I’m sorry, Flynn. You know I didn’t mean it.”

“We’re fine,” Flynn said. “No offense taken, Megan.”

“Thanks.” Megan brushed her hair back from her face. Her hair was beginning to fall down in all the drama. She probably looked a mess
and
a fool. “This is Angie’s day. Just let it go. I’ll deal with Mr. California Dreaming later, because if he thinks he’s leaving Boot Creek with the title to my car . . . he
is
dreaming!”