this truck,” he said as he approached them. “It’s blocking traffic.”
Nancy Drew’s friend finally realized what was going on and came running from across the street. “Wait, please, we’ll be so quick unloading it you won’t even know we were here.”
“I’m sorry, you have to get it out of here,” the cop said.
The pretty, sad-looking woman at the center of all of this blinked, looking back and forth between them. Then she wrapped her arms around herself, as if needing strength. Needing support.
Needing.
Nick mentally kicked himself. But even as his internal voice told him he was an idiot, he opened his mouth and surprised them all. “Officer,” he said, looking at the younger man, “between the two of us, we could empty this thing and have these ladies on their way within ten minutes. Don’t you think?”
The kid flinched, not expecting the response. With a slight shake of his head, Nick stopped any questions and got his point across. They were going to do this. If Miller looked out his window, he’d see a cop and a guy helping a lady move in. Not anything unusual in a Southern town known for its hospitality.
Dex might not agree, but Nick’s decision was made. He couldn’t explain it, couldn’t understand it himself, really. But something inside him wouldn’t let this haunted-looking woman load her mattress back on that truck and drive away.
She needed help. And he was going to give it to her.
VANDALIZING A BILLBOARD to announce to the world that your husband was a cheating scumbag might not be the best way to save a marriage, but it was one hell of a way to end one.
Melody Tanner-Todd—now just Tanner again, thankfully—had discovered that when she’d sought retaliation against her bastard of an ex, who’d slept his way across Atlanta during their marriage. It had been hugely public, hugely satisfying and it had hugely entertained the city’s commuting population. It had also cost her nearly everything she owned.
“You mean he gets practically all your money just because you painted some graffiti on a billboard?” said Paige Winston—now Suffolk—sounding shocked and dismayed.
Rosemary and Tanya wore similar looks of disbelief, which probably matched the one that had been on Mel’s own face for the past two months—since the day a judge had given her ex most of what she had earned during nineteen years as a model and actress.
“This is unbelievable! The house? The boat? That cheating sack of shit gets it all? Gawd, I’m never getting married. Vibrators are just as good and they don’t come with six-foot-tall walking dicks attached.” Six years might have turned Tanya into a softer-looking, mature woman, but they hadn’t done anything to smooth out that ballsy attitude.
Melody had a flash of déjà vu. It’d been almost exactly six years ago that the four of them had been sitting in this same restaurant, with the same watchful owner, at this same table, drinking margaritas out of possibly these same glasses, on the night before her wedding. Her blissful, lovely, elegant wedding that was supposed to be the start of her perfect life.
The perfection had lasted about ten months. Until Melody had started hearing rumors that her devoted husband was devoted to anything with two parted legs. It had taken another three years for her to grasp the scope of Bill’s betrayals. But eventually she’d realized that her dentist husband was willing to drill absolutely any woman who opened wide.
“The judge agreed with his lawyer that I’d damaged his professional reputation,” Melody murmured, knowing the others were waiting to hear the rest of the story.
They’d heard bits and pieces, of course. Though they lived several hours away, her friends had been a great source of support—even with only their telephone calls—during the ugly, rancorous split-up. They’d wanted to come to see her, but Melody had put them off, not wanting them to know how bad it was.
Only Tanya, who was a flight attendant and visited Atlanta a lot anyway—and who would never take no for an answer—had ignored her request. She’d shown up at Mel’s door one day last May with a bottle of tequila and a big cheesecake. So she knew something about Melody’s disgrace. Just like Rosemary knew the most about her unhappiness. And Paige knew the most about her dreams for the future. But none of them knew the whole story.
“I know you’ve all been wanting to hear everything, but I needed a couple of weeks to pull myself together,” Melody said. “I only want to tell the story once. This is the first time all four of us have been together since I got back, so I guess tonight it’s time to let it all come out.”
Paige reached across the table and took her hand. Rosemary listened quietly, and Tanya gave her a nod of encouragement.
“So to start, yes, he got almost everything.” She squeezed Paige’s fingers. “You know, letting me borrow that furniture to camp out while Rosemary’s father had renovations done on the building was a godsend. I finally got the stuff the judge said I could take from the house, but up until a week ago, I wasn’t sure Bill would let me have even that without another battle.”
“I asked you to stay with me,” Rosemary said.
Rosemary’s frown emphasized some unusual dark smudges beneath her eyes, and Melody realized just how tired and pale her friend looked. She had to wonder what was up with Rosemary, who was usually very precise about her appearance.
“Or me,” Tanya added.
Yes, they’d all offered. But starting a new life on her own had meant just that. On her own. “I know, and thank you. But it was fine. Paige’s stuff was all I needed. Thanks again.”
Paige grinned. “You’re welcome. It was worth it—that cop looked cute carrying stuff up the stairs in his tight pants.”
Frankly, Melody had been too shaken by the scruffy, bearded stranger in the dingy jeans to pay much attention to the boyish policeman who’d helped them move furniture a couple of weeks ago. She still wondered about the man, who, she had to admit, had come to her aid at a time when she’d nearly been at the end of her rope. Odd, since she’d started out being afraid of him—wondering if Bill had hired someone to stalk her when she saw his car parked around the corner two days in a row.
When she’d actually spoken to him—after she’d so stupidly fallen on the mattress—she’d been taken aback by his smooth, sexy voice. There’d also been something nice about his lean jaw, even though it had been almost hidden by his scraggly beard.
Then there’d been his eyes. During one moment when he was helping carry a table up the stairs, his glasses had slid down briefly, allowing her a glimpse of his brown eyes. Nice. Very nice. She liked brown-eyed men. Maybe because Bill’s were green.
Melody had wondered once or twice what had happened to the dangerous-looking stranger who’d been so helpful. He must have accomplished whatever he’d been doing on her street, because she hadn’t seen him since that day.
Mel shrugged off her curiosity. “Anyway, like I said, Bill got almost everything.”
Sipping her sweet tea, Rosemary murmured, “I can’t believe this, sugar. These things don’t happen here in Georgia. All of my friends have lived like queens off their divorce settlements.”
“Atlanta’s not Savannah,” Melody replied. “Here, it’d be perfectly understandable
