Page 46 of Bourbon Bliss
That wasn’t what was tickling the back of my mind every time I thought about Callie. Something was; I’d just been too distracted by George to put much thought into it.
“Something about her story seemed off,” I said.
“You think?” Scarlett asked. “What part?”
“I haven’t figured it out yet. I’ve had my mind on other things.”
“Like your big sexy boyfriend,” Scarlett said.
My cheeks warmed and I kept my eyes firmly on the pages of my magazine.
“Lordy, June Bug, seeing you blush over a guy is both bizarre and adorable,” Scarlett said. “You really like him, don’t you?”
“Of course I do. I wouldn’t be dating him otherwise.” I flipped the page, trying to keep my voice passive. But a flare of excitement bubbled up inside me. “He’s having his pet rabbit brought to Bootleg in a few days.”
“He’s introducing you to his bunny?” Scarlett asked. “Things really are getting serious.”
“Was that sarcasm?” I asked. I didn’t usually understand sarcasm.
“No, I’m being serious,” Scarlett said.
“I think it’s cute,” Cassidy said. “Daddy likes him, too. And not just because he’s a football player.”
“Was,” I corrected. “He’s no longer playing professional football.”
“How’s he doing with that?” Leah Mae asked. “Is he having a hard time adjusting?”
“He’s doing well. George is…” I paused, thinking about my answer. “He’s a relaxed sort of person. It’s one of the things I admire about him. He thinks things through and doesn’t get worked up if it isn’t necessary. He knew his career was coming to an end, and he accepted the change in his employment with a great deal of aplomb.”
“Good for him,” Leah Mae said.
“Hmm,” Scarlett said. “Sounds kinda boring. No offense intended, Juney.”
“Oh, he’s not the least bit boring,” I said. “He’s extremely interesting and intelligent.”
“Guess there’s more to him than football,” Cassidy said.
I wasn’t good at reading people, but I could see the warmth in Cassidy’s eyes when she smiled at me. She was being genuine.
“Yes, that’s correct. There is a lot more to him.”
The conversation moved on to other topics as we got our facials and massages. I listened idly, adding a comment or two when I felt I had something to say.
Strangely, I wanted to keep talking. About George, specifically, but I didn’t find room in the conversation to interject. And it wasn’t his stats that sat on the tip of my tongue. He was so much more than his numbers. I could have talked about the conversations we’d had. The way his huge hands felt when they enveloped mine. I could have told them any number of things that had nothing to do with football, or statistics.
When we finished, we all got dressed and headed outside. Cassidy had a text from Bowie.
“He says they’re down at the lake.” She frowned at her phone. “What are they doing down there? I thought they’d be at the Lookout or something.”
“Didn’t they go to Build-A-Shine?” Leah Mae asked.
“Cass, why is Tom Hammond’s trebuchet down there?” Scarlett asked, pointing toward the beach.
From here, we had a clear view straight down to the beach. And sitting there at the water’s edge was the trebuchet Tom Hammond had built. I’d seen it in action plenty of times. All of Bootleg had turned out for its inaugural toss and since then, he’d launched all sorts of things across his field.
“Oh my god, they can’t be,” Cassidy said.
Scarlett’s mouth hung open. “I think they are.”
