Home > When Lightning Strikes (Whiskey Creek #1)(76)

When Lightning Strikes (Whiskey Creek #1)(76)
Author: Brenda Novak

“It’s takes two.” Tex lifted a hand in farewell. “Tell Gail to keep fighting. Looks aren’t everything.”

Offended, Simon followed him down the walkway. “There’s nothing wrong with Gail’s looks!”

“See what I mean?” Tex said, chuckling. “She might prove me wrong, after all.”

Simon stopped at the gate while Tex continued on to his truck. “Prove you wrong about what? When have you ever talked to Gail?”

“Don’t worry about it,” his father said. “Just know that she’s the best thing to happen to you in a long time. Don’t take her for granted.”

* * *

“Hey, I didn’t expect to see you.”

Gail glanced up as her father walked into the minimart section of his gas station. She’d known he’d come. A buzzer sounded in back whenever someone stepped over the threshold.

“I just wanted to stop in and say hi.” She handed him his favorite flavor of milk shake, which she’d purchased at the soda fountain down the street. “Where’s Joe?”

“Got a call for a tow. Old Mrs. Reed is stranded with a dead battery over at the bingo parlor.”

“That’s quite an emergency.” She put the shake she’d bought for Joe in the minifreezer located in the tiny break room, which was more like a closet. It also contained the mop, bucket and other supplies they used for cleaning, as well as toilet paper and towels for the restrooms.

“Like what we’ve done to the place?” her father called after her.

He was talking about the new section of the store, where one could buy soft drinks, fruit smoothies and snow cones. She’d been admiring the new machines when she first came in. “I do. Bet it’ll be a hit come summer.”

“Hope so. Cost me enough.”

Gail breathed deep, taking in the scents of motor oil, grease and gasoline that brought back her youth. Oddly enough, the station felt as much like home as the house in which she’d been raised. She’d spent a lot of time here as a little girl, playing with the tools or watching a small TV behind the counter while her father ran his business. When she was a teenager, she’d stocked the shelves, coordinated tows and written up work orders in addition to running the register. Her father had believed in keeping his kids busy. That hadn’t prevented Joe from getting into trouble now and then. She’d never gotten into trouble, but she remembered closing on many Friday nights when her friends were partying after the football game and feeling left out. As an adult she didn’t begrudge her father those hours. She realized he’d probably needed her help—or maybe just her company. For some of that time Joe was away at college.

“Did your furniture ever come?” her father asked.

Gail checked her phone. “I don’t think so. Simon texted me an hour ago to say it hadn’t arrived, and I haven’t heard from him since. He said he’d call when it did.”

Her father glanced at the clock hanging on the wall. “It’s almost three. I’m surprised you’re not over there waiting for it.”

“I wanted to see you.”

Stirring his shake, he tilted his head to look into her face. “Something wrong, Gabby?”

She shrugged. “Nothing serious. I guess I just wondered what you think of Simon.”

“I don’t know what to think yet. He seems nice enough so far. But I don’t form an opinion on nice alone. It takes more to be a good man than a smile.”

She nodded.

“Don’t tell me you two are having trouble already....”

“No. Not at all. He treats me really well. It’s just…” She nibbled on her bottom lip while searching for the right words. “I think I’m falling in love with him.”

“That’s good, isn’t it?” he said with a laugh. “You are married to him.”

“But I’d prefer not to be head over heels.”

“Why not?”

She stopped trying to hide the misery she was feeling. “Because I’m scared. What if he never feels the same way toward me?”

“If he doesn’t love you, what’s he doing with you?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I told you I married him to help him. He needs me right now. But that won’t be the case forever.”

Her father took a big spoonful of his milk shake and spoke after he’d swallowed. “No marriage is easy, Gabby.”

“I know that. But…am I crazy to want more than I should expect?”

Her father set his cup aside and took her hands. “Look at me.”

She forced herself to meet his gaze. He had every right to say, “I told you not to get involved with Simon,” but that wasn’t what she wanted to hear.

“Love is always a risk,” he said instead.

“I was fully aware of that coming into this. I thought I could take…whatever. But I never knew I could fall so hard.”

Her father kissed her forehead. “If Simon’s as smart as I think, he’ll realize what he’s got.”

His reassurance made her feel better. She gave him a hug despite his dirty clothes and left. But as she started her car to go over to the house, a little voice inside her head repeated what Simon’s father had said:  He won’t stay with you. You’re not even that  pretty.

* * *

When Gail arrived at the house, Simon came to the front door to meet her with his T-shirt tied around his head like a headband. His bare torso was covered in dust, dirt and sweat.

“You’ve been busy,” she said as she got the ribs she’d bought them for dinner from the backseat of her car.

He flopped down on the top step of the porch. “I’m exhausted. I’ll probably be so sore tomorrow I won’t be able to move.”

Captivated by his dazzling smile, she put down the sack and sat next to him. He was tired, but he was happy. She’d never seen him this relaxed, this carefree. Whiskey Creek had been the right place to bring him. She felt certain of that and proud of the self-restraint he’d exercised so far. “I got your text. Furniture’s coming tomorrow, huh? What happened?”

“Truck got a flat. But I think it’s for the best.” His guilty expression made him look younger, almost boyish. “I’ve created a bigger mess than I expected.”

She leaned over to peek through the open door and into the house. Whatever he’d been doing hadn’t extended to the living room. She could see their mattress and bedding in front of the fireplace, apparently untouched since last night, but…the lighting was different. “Did you cover the windows?”

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