Page 19 of Peacocks

“That’s not the point,” I said at the same time Dunn pointed out Jessica’s camellia was located by her garage… which happened to be her brother’s grow house.

“The lights in there would be enough to keep my farm in bloom all winter in addition to his marijuana plants,” he muttered.

“Exactly,” I said, laughing. “So. Jessica and Brickle. Now,there’sa romance, huh? Talk about star-crossed lovers. I really hope those crazy kids manage to make it work?—”

“You want him,” Tucker said softly. “You want Doc Lane.”

“Youwanthim!” Dunn said much more loudly. Several people turned their heads to stare. I scooted down in my seat and studied the blank napkin list again in hopes of finding one instance where normal meant normal.

No luck.

Tucker reached out and patted my hand like a little old lady. “How can we help?”

I shrugged and admitted, “You can’t, Tucker. I meant what I said. Lane Desmond is above my pay grade. He’s got fancy diplomas and knows shit I’ll never know. Hell, the man readsbooks on self-help stuff. I work at a car wash. I graduated from Thicket High by the skin of my teeth.”

Dunn’s eyebrows jammed together. “Only because you were busy caring for your mom. And there’s nothing wrong with working at a car wash, Jay.” He lowered his voice and met my eyes. “Especially when youownsaid car wash.”

I gaped at him. The Suds Barn ownership was a carefully guarded secret. I’d gone to great lengths over the years to imply that I ran it on behalf of an absentee out-of-towner. “Own it?” I asked, feigning ignorance.

Dunn rolled his eyes. “Fine. You want to play it that way, we can play it that way. But know this: I’m a farmer. My partner is a doctor. Am I below his pay grade? No, I’m not. Know why? Because I’m smart in other ways. I know all kinds of shit he doesn’t know. And even if I didn’t, do you think Tucker Johnson would love me less?”

I glanced at Tucker, who was looking at his husband with giant saucer eyes full of affection. “Er, no?”

“Correct. He loves me because of who I am right here,” he said, banging his fist in the center of his torso.

“That’s your pancreas, baby,” Tucker murmured. Dunn moved his fist up and banged again. “Lungs. It’s fine. Jay gets it.”

“My point is, you have a huge heart, Jaybird. And you’re one of the most generous people in this town. Your family isn’t just Proud because that’s your name. They’re proud for real because you make them that way every single day.”

Tucker nodded. “Last week, your cousin Ginny-Rae was bragging about how you looked after her two older kids so she could bring Baby Rae for her checkup.”

Dunn poked a blunt fingertip on the wooden table. “And let’s not forget the time back in high school when you helped Gracie out after she got into her first car accident. My parents still talkabout you like you were God’s gift to stranded teenagers, even though you’d barely gotten your license yourself.”

Dunn’s sister had been sobbing and gasping from fear even though she’d only sideswiped one of those orange barrels out on the Nuthatch Road. “That wasn’t a big deal, but thank you for saying it.”

I did feel a little better after their kind words, and now that Dunn had pointed it out, I realized he was a dairy farmer hooked up with a fancy doctor. It was obvious Tucker thought the world of Dunn and had no problem with Dunn’s work or his country manners.

“Ask Lane out,” Tucker advised softly. “Really. Because I can tell you from personal experience that just because he has a bunch of fancy degrees, that doesn’t make him less of a fool when it comes to his heart.”

My stomach twisted with nerves at the idea of trying to ask Lane for something formal—likedatinginstead of fucking. He was too nice to laugh in my face, but I would die if I saw him scramble to come up with a polite excuse as to why that wasn’t a good idea.

When Cassandra at the counter called my name, I jumped. “Okay, well,” I said, pushing to stand. “I appreciate the pep talk. I’ll be thinking about it.”

Probably all night long.

And more than likely, I wouldn’t get up the nerve to act on it for a while.

I patted Tucker on the shoulder as I walked past to go to the cashier for my order. Ten minutes later, I was home with a giant brown paper bag full of delicious-smelling food. I scribbled a quick note inviting Lane to dinner at my house and stuck it on his door before heading out back to check on the guys.

Disco Dave spread his tail feathers as soon as he saw me and squawked to get my attention. I went through the necessarychores to care for them before bidding them a good night and retreating to the workroom in the garage where my Entwinin’ work had taken over most of the space.

I’d gone back and forth for weeks about the idea of making Lane an Entwinin’ wreath, but every time, I’d managed to talk myself out of it. I’d never made a wreath for someone I was interested in before, and if I did it for Lane, it would be a big deal. Everyone in town would know how I felt about him… and if Lane didn’t realize the significance for himself, someone in town would probably point it out.

But maybe that was a good thing. Maybe by April, I’d be ready to put my feelings on the line.

Despite all my misgivings, Ihadput aside a quantity of thin, whippy wisteria vines—the hardest to get since they were the best kind for twinin’—from my stock at the beginning of the season, like deep down, I’d known the wreath, like my growing feelings for Lane, was inevitable.

So I sat down at my table in the cold garage and got to work on the idea I had for a Georgia Bulldog. The University of Georgia was an important part of Lane’s life. Georgia fans were rabid anyway, but he’d spent a huge part of his life there. I sketched out a base and added a few more components, as well—the things I liked best about Lane, the things that made me think of him. There were a surprising number for the short time I’d known the man.

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