wanted to fit into the landscape of Tranquil Waters, she’d have to scale back on the big-city wardrobe, etc.
“Superhot doesn’t cover it,” she said honestly. “Scorching might come close. He puts that gorgeous action-adventure star Tom Diamond to shame.”
“Wait. Hotter than Tom Diamond? The man who will be my husband someday, even if I have to shoot him with a tranq gun and stuff him in my trunk? I think it might be time for me to visit Texas.”
“You are welcome anytime. I certainly have the room. And yes he’s that handsome, and he’s sweet to dogs and loves his mother. You know how tough that is for me. He’s like a triple threat. But I have to keep this professional. The last thing I need in this gossip-hungry town is to date its hero.”
“So you want to date him. Hmm.”
“Stop analyzing me and putting words in my mouth,” Macy complained. Cherie never stopped being a psychiatrist, but it was her only vice so Macy put up with her.
“You said the words. I’m just placing them in the proper order for you.”
“Privacy is impossible at any of the restaurants in town. I’m sure that’s why I came up with making the dinner. I wanted him to feel comfortable, to share as much as possible.”
“He’s a war hero, you know there’s not much he can say,” her friend warned.
“This isn’t my first time.” She’d been to almost every war zone in the world the past five years. It had only been the past twelve months that she’d decided to take a permanent position out of the line of fire. Little did she know it was just as dangerous at home.
She’d been shot at, kidnapped twice by insurgents and lost in the middle of the desert. None of that had been as bad as her ex’s betrayal.
“Stop thinking about that jerk. He’s not worth it.”
“How did you know?” Macy laughed at her friend’s incredible insight.
“He called here looking for you again. For a hotshot newspaper publisher, he’s not very good at finding people.”
Macy snorted. He was one of the best reporters ever, and if he truly wanted to find her, he would. But she’d told him if he did, she’d only turn him away again. It was the truth.
“Of course, I told him to stuff it up his—”
Lights flashed across her bedroom window. “Oh, man, he’s here early. Darn those marines and their punctuality.”
Macy stared down at the melee of clothing on her bed and picked up the frilly black blouse on top.
“Put down the black, and choose the red. Men love red.”
“That was scary. Fine. Red it is. I love you and I wish you’d come see me. It’s a nice town but—I still feel very outsiderish.”
“Oh, girl, don’t you worry. They’ll love you as much as I do. Just give them some time and the chance to get to know you. Charm the pants off that marine. That will be a great start.”
The doorbell rang and Harley barked twice.
The big dog had settled in just fine. Macy had even bought the dog her own couch for the family room. The fence had been finished that afternoon, and they’d reinforced the gate with two different kinds of locks.
She turned off the phone.
Harley sat patiently at the door waiting for their guest.
Shoving her curls out of her face, Macy took a deep breath and turned the knob.
Oh, shoot, the man is beautiful.
Dressed in dark jeans, cowboy boots and a dark blue button-down under a leather jacket, he was way beyond scorching.
Her normally agile mind couldn’t think of the word, but she knew there was one.
This is work. This is work. This is work.
He cocked his head and stared down at Harley.
“Did she run away again?”
“What?” Macy forced her hand to stay still even though she wanted to wave it in front of her own face, which was suddenly too warm even though the temperature outside was in the low fifties.
“Harley? You know the dog?”
He smiled at her as if he were humoring her.
“Uh, sorry. I’d been on the phone and I’m a little—uh—” Hot for you. No, that wasn’t right. “Out of sorts. Please come in. And Harley lives with me now. She would have been in here days ago, but the rain kept the ground too wet for them to finish putting the fence in.”
He handed her a colorful bouquet of chrysanthemums in a vase. “These are a present for your new home.” In his other hand he held a large paper bag. “I didn’t know what you were cooking so I brought a couple bottles of wine, some dark beer and, er...green tea.”
She took the flowers and led him to the kitchen. “Thank you, these are beautiful, but you didn’t have to bring anything.”
He shrugged and sat the bag down on her quartz countertop. “It’s the south, if you don’t bring a housewarming gift on the first occasion you visit, or to any party you’re invited to, they’ll talk about you for years.”
“I’ll have to remember that,” she said. Not that she’d been invited to anything, but maybe some day.
“I probably should have mentioned my kitchen skills are somewhat limited. But I make a mean beef stew. I put it on earlier today, so it should be ready in a few minutes. And I have bread and salad.”
“Sounds good to me. In general, I like food, so it doesn’t matter too much what it is. After C-Rats, I can, and have, digested everything from guinea pig in Machu Picchu to some weird toad in Africa. I’m not sure that last one didn’t lead to a night of hallucinations.”
She laughed. “I’m pretty adventurous when it comes to food, but I’ve never eaten either of those.”
“You get to a point where just about everything really does taste like chicken.” He smiled and her heart did a double thump.
Oh, heck, I’m in trouble.
She forced a smile.
“Now I feel like maybe I should have tried for something more exotic.” She examined the wine bottles he’d brought. He’d surprised her with his choices. She didn’t know much about wine, but neither bottle was cheap. “Do you have a preference?”
“Whatever you want is fine with me. I’ll be drinking the tea.”
At her quizzical look, he explained. “The docs are weaning me off the painkillers for my leg. It’s best if I don’t drink as it can create an allergic reaction. Although, me and my buddies at the hospital suspected they only told us that so we don’t find out how the painkillers are with alcohol. They deal with a lot of addicted vets
