Walking on Sunshine

Book 8: Cricket Creek

by LuAnn McLane

Genres: Romance; Contemporary Romance; Romantic Comedy

Synopsis

Cricket Creek, Kentucky, is a sweet small town. But that doesn’t stop a tomboy breakfast cook and a tabloid-magnet musician from getting into a little trouble together....
 
Mattie Mayfield is more interested in fishing, four-wheeling, and mudding than being a girlie girl. But acting like one of the boys means she often gets ignored when it comes to romance—especially by Colby, her brother’s best friend. Maybe if she changes the game, she’ll finally start getting some attention.
 
Bad boy musician Garret Ruleman doesn’t fit in with the crowd in Cricket Creek, but there’s something about sweet, unassuming Mattie that catches his eye. Garret intends to ask her out, but all Mattie wants is for Garret to give her a makeover that will force Colby to see her as a real woman.
 
Garret agrees to help in return for lessons on how to become a Southern stud. And as the local girls start falling for the newly countrified Garret, Mattie wonders if in the end, they’d actually be perfect together.…

Release date: May 5, 2015

Publisher: Berkley

Print pages: 304

Sample

PRAISE FOR LUANN MCLANE’S CRICKET CREEK NOVELS

ALSO BY LUANN MCLANE

SIGNET ECLIPSE

Acknowledgments

1

“RUSTY, GET BACK HERE RIGHT THIS MINUTE!” MATTIE shouted at her brother’s Irish setter, but he bolted from the kitchen with the slab of country ham dangling from his chops. “I mean it!” Mattie rushed after Rusty, knowing full well that he wasn’t about to stop. Although the meat could no longer be served to her customers, Mattie felt the need to scold the naughty dog and deprive him of his prize. She also felt the need to scold her brother Mason for leaving Rusty with her again while he went fishing. Apparently Rusty, who used to be quite the docile dog while riding in Mason’s bass boat, now felt the sudden urge to jump in the water without warning.

“I swear I’m never saving you a bone ever again!” Fuming, Mattie dodged tables and chairs while chasing Rusty around the dining room, glad that the restaurant wasn’t open for breakfast just yet. For an old dog, Rusty still managed some impressive speed and agility, but this was the second ham heist this week, so Mattie was determined to catch him. Country ham and biscuits was a popular item on the breakfast menu! When Rusty headed for the big booth in the back of the dining room, Mattie threw caution to the wind and did a half dive, half slide across the hardwood floor, hoping to snag him around his haunches and bring him to the justice he so richly deserved . . .

And came up with nothing but air.

With a groan, Mattie pounded her fists on the floor. She pictured Rusty doing a wheezy doggy laugh while munching on the salty slab of ham. “I’m gonna tell on you!” Mattie threatened with a bit more fist pounding. After another moment she started pushing up to her feet, but she looked ahead and spotted shoes. Yeah, shoes, not boots. Kinda fancy shoes at that. . . .

“Excuse me. Are you . . . are you . . . quite all right?” asked an unusual male voice that made her pause, putting her in a Pilates plank position.

Two things immediately went through Mattie’s head. Number one was that the question held a measure of concern at her plight rather than the amusement that was usually dealt her way; and number two was that his accent was a distinctively clipped British one rather than a slow, Southern drawl. Mattie quickly scooted to her knees apparently just as he squatted, because suddenly they were eye to oh . . . very blue eyes. She swallowed, staring. The man was simply gorgeous.

“Um . . .” He tilted his shaggy blond head to the side. “Is something amiss?”

“No, I . . . uh . . .” What did he just ask? Her brain suddenly left the building. “Oh, a . . . ham,” she managed, and then realized it sounded as if she were clearing her throat. “H-ham. I was running after the ham.”

“You were chasing after a ham?” He shoved his fingers through his blond hair, making it stand on end.

Mattie had the urge to reach over and smooth it back into its beautiful style. There was something vaguely familiar about him that she couldn’t quite place.

“So the ham ran away, did it?”

“Yes . . . well, no. It was a dog.”

“A dog named Ham? Now it makes sense.”

“What? No . . .” Mattie shook her head hard, making her ponytail swing back and forth.

“Are you quite certain you’re all right?”

“Yes, why do you keep asking that?”

“Well, mainly because you were facedown while pounding your fists on the floor when I walked in. Cause for some concern, I’d say.”

Mattie looked down at her fists. “Oh, right, I guess I was.”

“Early in the day to be so unsettled, don’t you think?” he asked gently. “Is there anything I can do? Search for the runaway ham perhaps?”

“I . . .” It was hard to think when he looked so cute, sounded so, well, so damn sexy. Mattie suddenly felt silly having been caught in her fit of frustration on the floor like some kind of crazy person. Should she admit that she was trying to tackle a dog? Would that be better or worse than chasing a ham? “I . . . I was having a . . . moment.”

“Ah.” He gave her a crooked grin that made a fluttery thing happen in her stomach. Must be hunger pains. “Haven’t had your coffee yet? I can sympathize. You’d best serve me up a cup or I’ll be joining you in your fist-pounding moment.” He stood up and then reached down to help her to her feet.

Mattie took his offered hand, finding his warm, firm grasp to be so pleasant that she felt reluctant to let go. Realizing that she was clinging to his hand, she masked her lingering hold with an introduction. “I’m Mattie Mayfield, by the way. Welcome to Breakfast, Books, and Bait . . . or BBB for short.” She then gave his hand a firm squeeze as her daddy had taught her.

“Well, thank you for the rather odd but warm welcome, Mattie Mayfield. I am duly charmed and also rather fascinated by the wide range of seemingly unrelated items you have to offer here at BBB.” He looked over to the bags of fishing bait shelved on the far wall. “Are the worms all dead, then?”

Mattie nodded. “Well, no, I mean not dead. Artificial, you know, plastic, mostly used for bass fishing.”

“Ah, and the fish fall for that, do they?” he asked with another boyishly cute grin.

“Oddly, yes.”

He chuckled. “It must be quite the letdown to be lured in by a silly piece of plastic instead of a tasty worm. I’d spit it out straightaway.”

Mattie had to laugh. “Yes, but there’s that tiny complication called the hook.”

“Oh . . . true enough.” He winced. “Ouch. Adding insult to injury and then end up in a frying pan.”

“No, no . . . no.” Mattie scrunched up her nose. “You really don’t want to consume anything caught in the Ohio River.” She waved a hand in the direction of the bait. “This is all mostly for catch and release, for sport and tournaments my brothers host.”

“We?”

Mattie jabbed her thumb toward the window that overlooked the dock. “My family owns Mayfield Marina,” she answered with a measure of pride. For some reason she felt it important that he think she was more accomplished than simply slinging hash and baking biscuits, not that there was anything wrong with an honest day’s work. “So, what can I get for you?” she asked a bit crisply.

He looked past the bait to the rear of the shop where Mattie kept her selection of books. “I think I’ll pass on the bait, but breakfast sounds lovely. And perhaps a book later.”

“Have a seat and I’ll bring you a menu.”

“All right, then.”

Mattie thought he’d opt for a booth, but he followed her to the counter lined with old-fashioned round swivel stools in deep red. Mattie had been serving up breakfast for several years, and her melt-in-your-mouth biscuits were raved about, but she suddenly found herself feeling a bit nervous. “Coffee?”

“Please.”

“So, are you just passing through Cricket Creek and happened to stop down here by the marina?” Mattie asked while pouring strong coffee into a sturdy china mug. When hit with a fit of nerves, Mattie, who was usually a bit on the quiet side, tended to chatter.

He reached for a little plastic tub of cream from the dish she put in front of him. “No, actually I just bought the A-frame cabin right next door.”

“You did?” From his blue polo shirt to his fancy shoes, he didn’t seem the type to settle down in Cricket Creek, but then again the little town had had quite a few unexpected people moving here over the past few years. “Wow.” Wait. There really was something familiar about him. Where had she seen him before?

“I’m sorry. I neglected to introduce myself. I’m Garret Ruleman.”

“Oh!” Mattie nearly dropped the menu she’d been about to hand to him. She had seen him all right, on the cover of tabloids at the checkout lane at the grocery story. “You are?”

“Last time I looked at my license,” he said while pouring cream into his coffee.

Feeling a bit silly by her question, Mattie decided to add a little sass. “Maybe you should check just to be sure.”

“All right, then, I’ll have a look.” He reached around for his wallet, then flipped it open. “Yes, I’m still Garret Ruleman. Damn the luck,” he added with an arch of an eyebrow and a slight grin.

“So you moved to Cricket Creek to live near your father?” Rick Ruleman, famous rock star, owned My Way Records, which was located just a few miles away from the marina. It was well known that Garret and his father shared a rocky relationship, and Mattie suddenly wished she’d kept her doggone mouth shut.

“No, actually I’m back in town to rekindle my relationship with Addison Monroe.” He calmly took a sip of his coffee and peered at her over the rim of the mug.

Mattie couldn’t hold back her gasp. Garret and Addison’s broken engagement had been splashed all over the tabloids and was the reason Addison ended up opening up a bridal shop, of all things, in Cricket Creek. Garret looked familiar because she’d seen his face in print so many times and not usually in a flattering situation. “Addison is, um, married to Reid Greenfield, now,” Mattie informed him in a hesitant stage whisper.

“You don’t say . . . well, bollocks, that throws a monkey wrench into my plans.” When his mouth twitched Mattie knew he’d been messing with her. He took another sip of coffee and then added more cream. “This stuff is going to make my hair stand on end.”

“It’s already standing on end, but maybe that will offset the fact that your nose is going to grow from fibbing,” Mattie grumbled.

He reached up and touched his nose. “Wouldn’t want that to happen. Actually Addison and I have mended our fences and I’ve met Reid. He’s a great chap and Addison should thank her lucky stars that she dodged the bullet and dumped the likes of me.”

His grin suggested that he was joking, but there was something in Garret’s eyes that made Mattie want to give his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

“So I had you going, did I?”

“That little deception wasn’t one bit funny.”

“I didn’t really think you’d fall for it. I was just goofing on you.”

“Goofing?”

“English slang for teasing.”

“Well, you’d think that I’d wise up, but I manage to fall for nearly everything.” I could fall for you zinged through her brain, but she chalked it up to a lack of coffee in her system. “I think I have tease me tattooed on my forehead.”

Narrowing his eyes, Garret peered at her forehead as if trying to see the tattoo. “Hmm, you do. Get that thing removed straightaway.”

“Good advice,” Mattie said, and then topped off his coffee.

“Actually I’m a studio musician and a talent scout for My Way Records.” Garret took a sip of the steaming brew. “But yes, it’s good to live near my father,” he added, but Mattie thought his smile appeared forced and he started studying the menu as if there would be a pop quiz afterward.

“Do you have any questions about the menu?”

“I do, in fact.” Garret looked up at her. “What in the world is redeye gravy?”

“Gravy made with coffee and the drippings from fried country ham.” She sighed. “But unfortunately I can’t offer redeye gravy or country ham on biscuits.”

“Ah . . . right, since the ham ran away with the dish and the spoon?”

Mattie nodded. “Something like that.”

“Pity, I was curious.”

“Well, I do make sausage gravy that will have you sigh with delight.”

“As it so happens, I adore sighing with delight,” Garret informed her with a slow grin that caused the butterflies in Mattie’s stomach to take flight once again. “I’m sold.” It looked as if he was about to say more when his phone started playing “Hard Day’s Night.” Standing up, he pulled his cell from his pocket and frowned at the screen. “Excuse me,” he said, and then answered the call. “Hello, love,” he said, making Mattie wonder if he was speaking to his girlfriend. “Ah yes, darling, I can be there by noon.”

Mattie felt an expected pang of disappointment that took her by surprise. Feeling silly, she quickly turned away and started fussing with rolling silverware in napkins. The breakfast crowd would be arriving soon and she’d best be thinking about getting ready rather than mooning over her sexy new neighbor. Besides, let’s get real, Mattie thought to herself. Now that she knew who he was, she remembered that Garret Ruleman’s bad boy reputation preceded him like his shadow. Along with Addison Monroe, daughter of famous finance guru Melinda Monroe, Garret had been linked to various famous actresses and models. If she remembered correctly, his mother was also some kind of celebrity. Garret might have been goofing on her, as he said, but Mattie was quite certain that she was as far from being his type as a girl could possibly get. With a sigh Mattie sternly reminded herself that she was already an expert in the not-his-type field, having been ass over teacups in love with Colby Campbell since, well, ever since she could remember.

Unfortunately there were several problems with loving Colby, starting with him being Mason’s best friend, which made Mattie off-limits because of some sort of hard-and-fast guy code rule. In addition, the four-year age difference between them had thrown Mattie into the annoying kid sister category while growing up. But at twenty-six she figured that gap should surely be closed! And face it, Mattie thought, she was no longer a kid but a grown woman, not that Colby seemed to notice. And if Mattie wanted to be honest (and she didn’t), that was also where the not-his-type part came into play. Colby always had some sort of prissy, big-haired blonde, some leggy, girlie thing hanging on his arm, and Mattie was anything but a girlie-girl. Mattie usually wore her long blond hair pulled up into a ponytail or in a braid down her back and she was neither prissy nor leggy. Still, in spite of having the deck stacked against her, every time he walked in the door, Mattie’s heart beat like a big bass drum.

Unrequited love truly sucked.

Complicating Mattie’s love life—or rather the lack thereof—was that her brother Danny, two years her junior, also adhered to the ridiculous don’t-date-my-sister rule, leaving Mattie friend-zoned by most of the eligible bachelors close to her age in town. Perhaps if her brothers would get married they would be busy raising families and back off watching her love life like a doggone hawk. In fact, their parents had become so frustrated by their lack of grandchildren that they up and moved to Florida, vowing not to return to Cricket Creek until they had at least one grandbaby.

Mattie stood up on her tiptoes and fumbled around in the cabinet for a coffee filter. Her brothers got blessed with the tall genes, while she stood barely over five foot two. She was also left-handed and the only blonde in the bunch, but she shared the same hazel eyes as her father. Her mother claimed that Mattie’s eyes were like mood rings, changing color depending upon her disposition.

Mattie measured the coffee grounds while trying to listen to Garret’s conversation. Eavesdropping was one of her favorite ways to pass the time while serving breakfast. From the old-timers’ breakfast club’s corny jokes to the really tall fish tales to the gossip from the ladies who came in to browse through the selection of romance novels, Mattie was thoroughly entertained every single morning. While Mattie wasn’t one to repeat gossip, she sure did get a kick out of listening to it.

After the coffee started hissing and dripping into the carafe, Mattie decided she needed to refill the saltshakers that were running low. She rose on tiptoe once again, but this time her fingers refused to coax the salt container to slide her way.

“Hey, love, do you need some help?” Garret asked in that sweet-ass accent of his.

Love? Wait. Did he just call her love? Before Mattie could process the whole love thing, he was standing behind her reaching up for the elusive canister of salt. She could feel the heat from his body standing so close to hers, and wow, did he smell heavenly . . . something spicy and, well, delicious! She had the urge to lean back against him and when he stepped to the side to hand her the salt, she wanted to grab him by the shirt and bury her nose next to his chest just to soak up the smell.

Instead Mattie had a saucy I didn’t need your help on the tip of her tongue, but then her fingers brushed against his and she felt a zing all the way to her doggone toes. Still, she lifted her chin, searching her befuddled brain for a retort of some sort, but he tilted his head and said, “You have the most amazing eyes. What color are they?”

“C-color?”

“Yes, I thought brown at first, but now they look green with a hint of blue. Quite lovely, actually.”

Mattie was used to teasing rather than compliments and she stood there feeling rather perplexed. She licked her bottom lip, something she did when confused, and damn if his gaze didn’t seem to drop to her mouth. Mattie swallowed and although warning bells chimed in her head about bad boy Garret Ruleman, she tipped her head up and leaned closer . . . suddenly prepared to risk it for the biscuit.

But just as her eyes started to flutter shut in anticipation of their mouths meeting, Mattie spotted none other than Colby Campbell walk through the front door. Startled, she took a quick step away from Garret and then frowned at him as if he’d done something wrong rather than offer his help. What in the hell had just gotten into her, anyway? Kissing a total stranger wasn’t like her at all! She shot Garret a frown so he got the message.

“Everything okay, Mattie?” Colby asked in that big brother tone that never failed to set her teeth on edge.

“Yeah, um, Garret was just helping me reach a canister of salt. Weren’t you, Garret?” she asked, but kept her focus on Colby. When Garret remained silent she gave him a little nudge with her elbow and then looked up at him.

“Well, actually . . .”

The mischief in Garret’s blue eyes made Mattie’s heart start to hammer. She looked at him and held her breath.

2

“I WAS JUST ABOUT READY TO ORDER BISCUITS AND GRAVY when I spotted Mattie in need of some assistance,” Garret explained, and could sense the tension leave Mattie’s body. Was this giant bloke dressed in boots and camo really cute little Mattie’s boyfriend?

“Because I’m so dang short,” Mattie chimed in. “Couldn’t reach the salt,” she added as if she needed to give Colby an explanation so he wouldn’t be jealous. But Garret noticed that Colby didn’t seem all that concerned.

“I was just being neighborly,” Garret said, and that seemed to get Colby’s attention.

“Neighborly?” He grinned. “You sure don’t sound like you’re from around here.”

“True enough. L.A. and London with a bit of Chicago tossed in. But I bought the cabin down by the river.”

“Oh, hey, welcome to Cricket Creek.” He stuck out his hand. “I’m Colby Campbell.”

“Garret Ruleman,” Garret said, and shook Colby’s hand. He saw recognition on Colby’s face but didn’t want to deal with it, so he said quickly, “Good to meet you. Now that I’m no longer needed, I’ll just have a seat over at a booth.” Garret’s statement went mostly unnoticed by an obviously smitten Mattie.

“Okay,” Mattie said absently, and didn’t bother to flick a glance in Garret’s direction. Since Garret was rather used to women fawning all over him, he found Mattie’s rapid dismissal refreshing in a weird way. Odd, but he could have sworn she was about to let him kiss her just moments ago. Perhaps he’d been mistaken, because she only seemed to have eyes for Colby. Pity, because he found her utterly charming. After picking up his coffee mug, Garret walked over to a booth by the wall and proceeded to watch the rather interesting scene unfold.

“I’m in dire need of coffee,” Colby announced.

“Comin’ right up.” Mattie put a mug in front of Colby, who swung one long jean-clad leg over the stool and sat down. “Just to let you know there’s no country ham this mornin’.”

“Again?” Colby grumbled. “And here I was wantin’ some of your redeye gravy.”

“Sorry ’bout your luck.” Mattie sighed and then fisted her hands on her hips. “Rusty ran off with the ham. I chased after his sorry hide but came up empty-handed.” She wiggled her fingers in the air to demonstrate. “I’m gonna give Mason a piece of my mind about the situation. I love ol’ Rusty to the moon and back, but I can’t have him stealing my breakfast supplies.”

“I don’t blame you one bit,” Colby said with a nod.

Ah, so Mattie was chasing after a dog, Garret thought, and had to grin. He would have loved to see her in action. He’d also love to have his breakfast served, but Mattie was totally focused on Colby. But then as if reading Garret’s mind she glanced in his direction.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” she said to Colby, and then walked Garret’s way with the coffeepot in her hand.

“Did you decide what you want?” Mattie asked with what appeared to be a grateful smile. She obviously regretted the brief heated moment they’d shared. Of course perhaps the heat was all on his end. If he really had been crazy enough to try to steal a kiss, he would most likely have gotten a roundhouse to the jaw. Risky business, he thought, but perhaps one worth taking.

“I’ll have the biscuits and sausage gravy that is sure to make me sigh with pleasure.”

Her eyes rounded and she glanced over at Colby, who seemed oblivious of her adoration. Couldn’t the big clod see how cute Mattie was in her cutoff jeans and scuffed cowboy boots? She tilted her head to the side, making her long ponytail slip over her shoulder. “I believe I said de-light.”

“Right . . . my mistake.”

“Eggs?”

“Over easy.”

“Grits?”

“Never had them, but they sound, well, gritty.”

“My grits are smooth and creamy. Give them a try. You won’t be sorry.”

“Causing another groan of sheer pleasure?” Garret asked, and was rewarded with a scowl that had a cute blush behind it.

“Another sigh of delight.”

Garret shrugged. “Semantics . . .”

“Butter or cheese?”

“What do you suggest?”

“I prefer cheesy grits, but that’s just me.”

“Sold.”

“Hash browns?” she continued with a crisp businesslike tone that made Garret grin.

“Um . . .” Garret wondered how he was going to consume all that food, but he’d just bet that Colby over at the counter would scarf down a manly breakfast, so he nodded. “Of course.”

“Scattered, smothered, and covered?”

“Who, what, and where?”

Mattie laughed and Garret decided he liked the soft, slightly throaty sound. She slowly repeated the choices.

“Are you trying to kill me? Because it sure sounds like a grisly murder.”

“Scattered on the grill, covered with onions, and smothered with cheese.”

“Well, then, yes, you are definitely trying to kill me.”

“Then you will surely die with a big smile on your face.”

Garret had to chuckle. “All right, then, scatter, smother, and cover me.”

“Waffles, toast, or pancakes?”

“No!” Garret raised his hands skyward. “I must draw the line somewhere . . . dear God, the biscuits are more than enough carbs.”

Mattie laughed again. “Juice?”

“Just water, please, but keep the coffee coming.”

“Will do.” Mattie nodded and turned on her heel. He noticed that she kept glancing at Colby, who had his nose buried in a newspaper. When she walked over to refill his coffee mug, he ordered a huge breakfast feast, including a stack of pancakes. It kind of irked Garret that the dude didn’t seem to have an ounce of fat on his damn body. A few minutes later a whole crew of guys dressed and built like Colby entered the restaurant. There was a lot of back slapping and joke telling. Garret had to admit that he was envious of their camaraderie. But what he didn’t like was the constant teasing of Mattie. When Colby tugged her ponytail as she walked by, Garret longed to stomp over there and smack the big clod upside his head.

While waiting for his breakfast, Garret played with his cell phone but listened to their conversation that was apparently English but might just as well have been in a foreign language, since Garret failed to understand most of what they were talking about. What in the world was flipping and pitching lily pads? And apparently mudding was some sort of pastime that they were going to engage in over the weekend. Did they sling it at each other while flipping lily pads? The conversation led into some of them trying to get their girlfriends to go noodling in a nearby lake. Garret thought they must mean something like skinny-dipping. Knowing that he needed to learn the local lingo, he listened closely.

“Sherry won’t even consider going noodling,” said some big dude they called Squirrel. “What do you think, Danny?”

“Too scared, I guess,” said Danny. “Mattie would be too.”

“Nah, I just bet Mattie would do it,” Colby said, drawing Mattie’s attention away from the griddle.

“Of course I would,” Mattie boasted, and then turned to flip several pancakes. “When are y’all goin’?” she asked over her shoulder.

Garret took a sip of his coffee, not liking the idea at all, and then wondered why he considered it his business.

Danny laughed, drawing a frown from Mattie. “You’d never stick your hand in a catfish hole, Mattie. Get real.”

“I’m not afraid of a catfish,” she scoffed before handing him a huge stack of pancakes.

“You’d be too scared of a water moccasin,” Danny said.

“I would not,” Mattie argued.

Garret had the feeling they weren’t talking about a shoe.

“Right, you’re scared to death of snakes,” Danny insisted. “You even screamed at that fake one I put behind the counter last week.”

“That was a riot,” Colby said, and gave Danny and Squirrel a high five. They all laughed.

Mattie narrowed her eyes and pointed her spatula at Danny. “I thought you said that Mason put the fake snake there.”

“It was Colby.” Danny jammed his thumb in his friend’s direction.

“No way.” Colby held up his hands in protest. “Wasn’t me.”

“Well, I wasn’t scared, just startled,” Mattie insisted. “Even Rusty thought it was real and started barking his fool head off. And I will go noodling with you to prove it,” she added. “And show y’all up by winnin’ the we