Page 47 of One Last Shot
“Listen, I get it. You look at your trouble and think... God is against me. But what if he’s trying to rescue you?”
“Tell that to Mike Grizz.”
“You don’t know what God is doing in Mike’s story. But he did use it to get you to stick around.” Moose checked on the steaks again, then flipped them. Smoke luffed out into the twilight. He turned the bread, then closed the lid again. “Could be he’s trying to get you back into the real story he has for your life.”
“Real story?”
“There’s the story we create and the story we’re created for. Maybe that’s what this adventure is all about.”
“All I see is me trying to fix the mess that God made.”
Moose let out a sound something like a chuckle, although Oaken had the sense that he wasn’t laughing. “What you have, Oaken, is a vision problem. You see things through thelens of your own perspective, your own goals and hopes and fears. But when you open your eyes to God’s view, you might see that the story is a lot different than you think.”
Moose grabbed the bread platter, opened the lid, and picked off the bread. Handed the platter to Oaken. “Whatever is going on, you’re here now. And from my view, I think it’s not by accident.” He plated the steaks. “I hope you like them rare.”
Oaken smiled and followed Moose inside.
Shep had arrived, with chips. Behind him, London was peeling off her shoes, her jacket.
And behind her, holding a box of Oreos stood... Boo.
Well, well. She wore her hair down, a fleece jacket, jeans, and running shoes, and the memory of the woman he’d met in the car a week ago, who had kept him calm and made him believe that everything would be okay, simply snapshotted into his head and stayed there.
Moose set down the steak and leaned over to him. “Bet you like the view now.”
He looked at him, and Moose grinned.
Whatever.Oaken turned back and watched Boo hand the Oreos to London, take off her jacket, then her boots.
And he was still looking when she turned to enter, saw him, and smiled.
Yes, interestingly enough, he did like the view.
CHAPTER 6
Boo didn’t do parties or get-togethers or even hangouts, and the moment the door had opened to the smell of steaks and garlic bread, to country music playing on the speakers, to laughter from London and Shep, she’d wanted to pivot and run.
Because probably they’d want conversation from her, and maybe even a joke or something, and eventually the conversation might turn serious and...
Yeah. Really.What had she been thinking?
And then she’d seen Oaken. Looking at her with something of a smile on his face, and oh boy, the man had a nice smile.
Too nice. And he looked good, too, wearing a pair of jeans and a blue thermal shirt that matched his eyes, and he hadn’t shaved, and for a second all she could think about was the way he’d met her gaze right before he went over the cliff in the Shed. Like she might be his lifeline.
Which of course sounded crazy, no matter how she said it in her head, and really, it was simply the conversation in the parking lot four nights ago that had her alittle woozy.
Like he might, maybe, care about her and her nightmares.
But seriously, the man had charisma oozing out of his pores. No wonder the world loved him. As they ate dinner at Moose’s beautiful table, Oaken told jokes and complimented London on her teaching him how to tie knots—which she deserved—and told stories of being on tour and some of the crazy moments with his band and the fans, and she’d said it before...The man was miles out of her league.
So, really, what had she been thinking?
“I’ll clean up,” she said as soon as the plates were empty. She got up, reaching for London’s plate.
“I’ll help,” said Oaken and also rose, gathering up the plates of Moose, Axel, and Shep.
Oh, perfect.