in the studio is the only way I get to keep it.”
Arms crossed while he leaned against a porch post, he said, “No.”
“You’ve changed,” she said, scavenging through a bedraggled black leather purse, then drawing out keys. “I used to carry a soft spot for you, asking for your safekeeping every night in my prayers, but no more. After turning down my request without even considering it, for all I care, the devil can have you.”
While she stormed across the driveway, this time apparently not caring if gravel gnawed her shoes, Garret laughed. Ironic how he’d just been lamenting that he never had any fun, when the best entertainment he’d had in years had just magically appeared.
Tottering inside for that beer, taking a moment in the living room to let his eyes adjust from bright sun to gloom, Garret had to wonder himself what’d led him to flat-out turn her down.
Truth? Lovely though Constance still was, he couldn’t stand the sight of her. In his whole life, no one had ever done him so wrong. He’d loved her. Believed with everything in him she’d loved him, too. He shouldn’t have even been listening to her stupid show, but with his mom blaring it every afternoon, Constance’s raspy bedroom voice was hard to ignore.
Dammit, he thought, hobbling into the kitchen, yanking open the fridge. Cool air washed over him, cleansing the heat just looking at her had brought on. From the moment Constance had stepped those long, long legs up onto his mama’s porch, he’d been back to exorcising demons. Rehashing what might’ve been.
Popping the top on a longneck Coors, relishing that first endless swig, Garret sadly came to grips with the fact that no matter how hard he’d tried, no woman had ever done it for him like her.
There. He’d admitted it.
And fire hadn’t fallen from the sky.
The world wasn’t about to end.
Only the very notion was nuts. In his line of work, gorgeous women came on to him every time he came up for air. But while a surprising number of his friends had snagged those women, then married them and the whole nine yards, Garret wanted no part of it. If he didn’t know better, he’d say whatever happened between him and Constance had been like slow-acting relationship poison. Oh, make no mistake, he loved women in all shapes and sizes, but as far as surrendering his heart and soul to one?
After another swig of beer, he chuckled. He’d already tried that and it hadn’t worked out.
“LONG TIME NO SEE.”
From her place in the feed store’s lengthy Saturday-afternoon line, Constance jumped, turning to see what oddly familiar-sounding man had crooned the words in her right ear. “You,” she said, eyeing Garret.
“Not happy to meet again?” he asked. Even favoring one leg, he’d managed to sling a fifty-pound feed bag over his shoulder. He wore khaki cargo pants and another camo-green T-shirt that clung to his chest the way she used to.
She flashed him a half smile, wishing that two years earlier when Lindsay had asked for a live bunny for Easter, she’d said no. If she had, she wouldn’t now be stuck in line waiting to pay for bunny chow.
“Missed me that much, have you?” His words were spoken low enough that only she could hear over the bustling crowd of at least fifteen talkative old geezers and two crying babies. A blaring Conway Twitty song and a baying hound out in the bed of Tom Neilson’s truck added to the chaos.
Shoulders straight, she said, “I have nothing to say to you.”
“Funny, seeing how there’s plenty I’d like to say to you.” He followed her when it came time to move up in line. “Town gossip says your boss is out of town and you need me to agree to your request before he gets back. A million years ago, I’d’ve done damn near anything for you. Now…” He looked her up and down, his gaze so hot it left her chilled. “I’m not as charitable.”
She made the mistake of glancing over her shoulder to gape, only to catch him wink. From there on out, she kept her mouth shut and carefully stared straight ahead.
Who’d told Garret Felix had left?
Oh, who was she kidding? In a town the size of Mule Shoe, Felix and his wife attending a Vegas broadcasting convention was big news.
They moved up in line again, only instead of Garret vanishing from her world and prospering elsewhere, as per Connie’s wishes, he doggedly kept behind her. Did he have to smell so good? Like earth and wind and sweat and sea—which was stupid, really, seeing how smack-dab in the center of Oklahoma, there wasn’t a whole lot of sea in sight!
“Hey, Miss Manners,” Harvey, the store owner and checkout clerk, called when mercifully, it was Constance’s turn at the register. “How’s Lindsay’s bunny brigade doing? She ever unload all those babies?”
“She, um, sure did—all but one she couldn’t bear to part with.”
“Yep,” he said with a friendly chuckle. “Reminds me of my own girls. Just be grateful your little one doesn’t have an affinity for horses. Now there’s some real money.”
“Don’t I know it,” Constance said, pulling out her wallet, thankful not only that her daughter preferred small livestock, but that she was almost free of Garret.
Harvey finished ringing up Lindsay’s Vitakraft Rabbit Menu and Funny Bunny Fruit Bites, then said, “That’ll be $14.68.”
She opened her wallet, only to find herself short the $4.68. “Um…” Something would have to go back. She’d thought she still had fifteen left from buying groceries that morning, but she’d forgotten she’d had to buy toothpaste and floss, which had forced her to make a last-minute stop at the drugstore. Eyeing the bunny treats, she picked up the brightly colored bag. “Without these, how much?”
“Here,” Garret said, slapping a five on the counter.
“Thank you, but no,” Constance said, as if his money were contaminated, plucking it up with her thumb and forefinger, then turning to hold it out to him.
“Oh, come on,” he said. “My money’s just as good as anyone else’s. And anyway, I’m not buying that rabbit candy for you, but your kid.”
“She doesn’t need your charity.”
“Look,” Garret said under his breath, leaning forward to talk in her ear. “Just because you and I have issues, don’t punish her. I like kids. Take the money.”
Harvey stood staring, then put his fingers to his lips and nodded. “I know you. You’re Ben Underwood’s boy. Aren’t you a Navy SEAL?”
“Yessir.”
“I’ll be damned. Shoot, your money’s no good here, son. Constance, you just run on along, and take those treats with you. I know times are tough, so you tell that little angel of yours to stop by after school Monday and she can sweep the back room to pay for this.”
“Th-thank you,” she said, hustling to remove not just her purchases but herself. “I’ll be sure Lindsay’s here.”
“Sounds real good,” Harvey said with a wave before turning back to Garret. “Son, it’s
