Great, he had a commitment phobia. "I'm sure she would have waited until you were ready."
"I was never going to be ready," he answered.
Gah, commitment-phobe to the max. All my hopeful feelings from a few seconds ago deflated like a balloon. I wasn't looking for a guy who strings a girl along for four years and then drops her like a hot potato when she wants something more. I get the whole waiting thing, but you had to give a person something. For the first time, I actually felt bad for Amanda. Maybe I had dodged the bullet since Grant was never interested in me.
"I got it. You're a perpetual playboy," I finally analyzed, looking at the falling snow in front of us.
"Playboy? You grew up in Woodfalls, right? I'm not sure there are enough women there to be considered a playboy," he chuckled. "Besides, Fran would have my head," he added.
"How is Fran?" I asked, momentarily distracted. I had fond memories of the woman who owned the small store back home. Where most towns had fast food restaurants where all the teenagers hung out, we had Fran's. She had always welcomed us in no matter how loud we were. She made sure to have our favorite snacks on hand and allowed us to claim the front porch of the store as long as we didn't disrupt the customers coming in and out. The best thing about Fran was that she was never too busy to listen to any of us. I loved my cousin Tressa and we had been close growing up, but once I hit high school, the two-year gap between our ages made it hard for me to talk to her at times. Fran was the only one in Woodfalls who knew about my feelings for Grant. She was my shoulder to cry on, dishing out tissues and advice at the same time. Eventually, I stopped focusing of Grant and told her about my desire to leave Woodfalls so I could meet Mr. Right. Fran was never crazy about the idea and made it her goal to find me the perfect guy in Woodfalls. For months after, I would arrive at her store to find a different guy from school who Fran had somehow convinced to help her with some project she had fabricated. Her plan never worked, but she deserved an A for the effort.
"She's the same. Causing havoc and flirting with all the men in town her age and some who aren't her age. Of course, she's set her sights on Tressa's friend's dad."
"What? Brittni's dad came back?" I asked, completely floored.
"No, not Brittni. Her friend Ashton."
"Ashton? Why don't I remember her in school?"
"You wouldn't. Tressa met Ashton when she was in Woodfalls a couple summers ago. She came back last summer to get married over on the James property."
"Wow, I guess I've missed a lot," I mused, turning my face back around to look at him. I was startled to see he was looking down at me intently. "What?" I asked self-consciously.
"You have something on your nose."
"Oh," I flushed, turning my face away from his. I ran my hand over my nose, completely embarrassed.
"It was just a snowflake," he said, chuckling.
"Creep," I muttered, swatting at his arm.
"So, you plan on returning to Woodfalls anytime soon? I mean, for other than the holidays?" he asked, adjusting me in his arms.
"Not with the rate I'm going," I muttered, keeping my face averted from his.
He started to answer until we both heard a vehicle approaching in the distance. Grant gently stood me up and we waved our arms to get the driver's attention.
Chapter 7
A pickup truck much like June had suggested we needed slowed to a stop on the side of the road. "You folks need some help?" the driver asked after opening his door.
"Yes, sir," Grant answered, walking toward him.
The large burly bear of a man stepped from the truck. He stood easily at six and a half feet tall. Grant was tall, and even he looked miniature next to this stranger. The nickname "Refrigerator" would have suited him well. Dressed in a flannel shirt that was rolled up to reveal massive forearms, he looked like a lumberjack, or in my mind, a serial killer.
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" I asked under my breath. "He might be some crazy mountain-man killer."
"Nah, he has to be cool. He has a Pittsburg Steelers flag in his back window."
"Even more reason not to trust him. Everyone knows the only people you can trust are Bills fans."
"You know football?" Grant asked.
"Um, hello? I was born in Woodfalls," I joked. Football and Woodfalls came as a package. With not a whole lot else to get excited about in a town the size of Woodfalls, football was practically a religion. To say you didn't like football was pretty much sacrilegious, and were considered fighting words. Fridays were spent traveling to high school games since our school didn't have a home field. Saturdays we watched college ball, and Sundays, of course were all about the Buffalo Bills. Even after almost five years away from Woodfalls, football was still in my blood.
"I'm Tim," the stranger introduced himself. "My wife, June, thought you folks might need a hand. She said you had it in your heads to drive some Barbie car in this storm," Tim said, opening the passenger door so Grant could set me down on the seat. My misgivings were put to rest. Of course June sent him out to check on us.
"Barbie car. Ha, that's not far off," Grant laughed, sliding in beside me. I sighed with pleasure at the warm air coming from the vents.