time with the wedding coming up. Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
“Not really.”
“Is that a no?”
He grinned, a slow, lazy smile that made my pulse tick faster. “It’s complicated. I don’t have any official siblings, but I’m close to my cousins in Tennessee.”
“You’re lucky. I bet your cousins don’t try setting you up just so they have an even number of guests at their head table.”
He chuckled, and the sound traveled up and down my spine, making each vertebrae tingle. “Yeah, I couldn’t help but overhear in the gate area. My cousins don’t care, but I guarantee you I’m going to catch grief from my aunt about not settling down yet.”
“It sucks. Why does everyone think I need a man to be happy?” I huffed out a breath. “Why can’t I be happy working on my career? Everyone thinks if you’re not married with kids by the time you’re thirty that your life is a waste.”
“My aunt must be related to your relatives,” Deacon joked. “I get the same thing every time I talk to her.”
I shook my head in sympathy. “Are you just heading east for a visit then?”
“A visit and some family business. How about you, is the wedding in Nashville?”
“No. I’m from a tiny town about ninety miles outside of Nashville. I’m sure you’ve never heard of it.”
“Try me.” The lift of his brows issued a challenge.
“Beaver Bluff, Tennessee. It’s where I was born and raised.”
His brows shot even higher. “No shit?”
“Um, no, no shit.” I’d had people call bullshit on me before when I told them where I was from, but never with such gusto. “You’ve never heard of it, have you?”
“Actually,”—he let out a soft laugh—“that’s where my cousins live.”
“You’re kidding.” Beaver Bluff’s population topped out at five thousand, and that was if we counted the tourists who flocked in to visit one of the biggest whiskey distilleries in the state.
“No joke. Looks like you and I are headed to the same place.”
The same place? My gaze immediately cut to his left hand. No ring. Though lack of a ring didn’t always mean a man was unattached, I eyed Deacon with fresh interest. Maybe, just maybe, I’d be able to avoid Bailey’s set up.
“So, Deacon, what kind of plans do you have while you’re in town?”
Chapter Four
Deacon
“Plans?” I eyed Tori with trepidation. “You’re not trying to sucker me into being your plus one for your sister’s wedding, are you?”
“Um… maybe?” She blinked at me through ridiculously long lashes. “Say a desperate stranger was trying to entice you to do her a favor”—she cocked her head to the side—“what would it take? I’m a middle school counselor so I can’t promise wads of cash, but I make an excellent chocolate pecan whiskey pie.”
My mouth watered at the mention of the local specialty. “Do they still serve it fresh out of the oven at Miss Sally’s?”
Tori batted her eyelashes. “They do. But I guarantee you my version beats Miss Sally’s, hands down.”
“You sound pretty sure of yourself.” I liked a woman with confidence, especially one who could bake.
“When it comes to pie, yes. When it comes to getting my family off my back, not so much.”
I hadn’t been to Beaver Bluff in over fifteen years. Chatting with Tori could give me a chance to get caught up on the happenings of the small town where I’d spent my youth and maybe give me some insight into what I might be walking into.
“Is the Slim Pickens general store still on the main drag?” I asked. My cousins and I used to ride bikes into town on errands for my aunt. Though they didn’t live too far out of town, we could waste a whole day making the round trip, especially when the draw of the local swimming hole was always too much to take on a hot summer’s day.
“Sure is. Slim himself still sits outside. He’s given over the day-to-day operation to his son and grandson, but he still shows up every day.” Tori smiled, the kind that lit up her entire face.
I’d forgotten how damn real the folks back home could be. Yeah, I considered Beaver Bluff home to some degree. Even though I only spent five years there, they were the happiest times I could remember.
“How about the swimming hole?”
“I haven’t been there in years. They closed it down a few years back since some kids were getting into trouble.”
“That’s a shame. Some of my best memories are from Beaver Bluff.” I hadn’t thought about