Gavin checked his phone for the billionth time while he rode in the back of Scarlett’s fuel-efficient, ultra-safe, mid-sized sedan. The PI hadn’t called, texted, or emailed. Damn it. Every minute the man didn’t call was another minute he was away from his son.

If it was his son. Shit, what a mess.

“Are you okay back there, Gavin?” Honey asked.

“I’m fine. As long as Scarlett gets us there before I die of old age.” They were going so slow they were practically going backwards.

Honestly, Honey probably drove faster than his wife.

He inspected a bag marked Emergency Supplies on the seat next to him. There was enough stuff in there to survive the apocalypse. “You believe in zombies, Scarlett?”

“Huh?”

“Nothing.”

The overly prepared grandma trapped in a delicious twenty-five-year-old’s body gave him a dismissive eye roll in the rearview mirror.

“I can’t thank you enough for doin’ this for me, Gavin.” Honey looked into the visor mirror and ran a pink-tipped finger around the outside of her red lips. “The girls are gonna die when they see you.” She gave Scarlett a worried look. “I hope Martha Barker can handle it. You know the last time we saw Mickey Gilly in Louisiana she started havin’ heart palpitations, and he looks like a shriveled-up ol’ raisin. One look at Gavin, here, and she’ll probably keel right over.”

“Um…thanks, I guess?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know you’re hotter than fire, boy,” the geriatric said.

“Okay,” he chuckled. Slow molasses filled his chest when the older woman gave him the most adoring smile. The kind of smile a doting grandmother gives to a favorite grandson.

Careful, Bain, that kind of thinking is very dangerous.

Scarlett glanced at him in the mirror again. She sucked in her cheeks, in an obvious effort to stifle a laugh. Not interested in sharing a moment with her, he looked away. The conversation he’d overheard before they left the house still rang in his ears. She’d wasted no time in making sure the money was in her bank account.

Bitterness bit at his insides. It was totally irrational, but he felt he’d been used. Angry resentment of all the times he’d been taken advantage of and exploited by women simmered beneath the surface.

The last year bleeding out on a therapist’s couch, to control the eruption of that boiling sewage, had helped, but two days in Scarlett Kelly Bain’s company threatened to erode all the ground he’d won.

He was pissed, but why? He’d long ago accepted that people sucked, which meant low expectations for the entire human race. So why was he holding her to a higher standard than he did everyone else?

Because she seemed the most genuine person he’d ever met, devoted to her family and honest to a fault. Then there was the fucking money, which made her…what?

He was so damn confused.

It didn’t seem to matter that he was using her too. Or that he’d paid her to get what he wanted. He shouldn’t want more from her. This was a business deal like thousands of others in his career. The stupid grudge was because she wasn’t who he wanted her to be.

His thoughts and, if he was honest, his feelings about her were like a hamster on a wheel, no matter how fast they moved, they went absolutely nowhere. Until he knew the real Scarlett, he needed to leave her the hell alone.

All this whining made him sick.

The car slowed even more as they entered the city limits of Zachsville. He chuckled when he saw the city limits sign: Zachsville Texas, population 3500 good people and 3 or 4 grumpy old farts. He’d missed that yesterday when he and Jack blew through town. Was that just yesterday? It felt like a month ago.

“I can’t wait to see Sally Pruitt’s face. She thinks she knows everything.”

“So is this Sally person your arch enemy or something?” He pulled at the seatbelt that had tightened when Scarlett slammed on the brakes for no apparent reason.

“Oh no, Sally has been Honey’s best friend since they were in grade school. But you wouldn’t know it by the way they bicker with each other.” She cut her aunt a pointed look.

Honey smirked at Gavin. “It’s complicated.”

Scarlett burst out laughing. “Complicated, huh? You know you’d die for Sally. You’re just mad she knew something before you.”

“Yes, and whose fault is that?” She turned sideways in her seat and pinned them both with a look. “I have something I want to say to you two. We will have a wedding here in Zachsville.” The car swerved violently. “Scarlett, honey, try to keep the car on the road.”

“You’re the closest thing I have to a daughter, and I love you. I’ve been planning your wedding since you were a tiny girl. I’m not lettin’ a quickie marriage in Lass Vegas rob me of giving you the day you deserve.” She sat back in her seat. “There, I said my peace.”

Scarlett’s voice quivered a little, “Um, Honey…I don’t—”

“Whatever you want, Honey,” Gavin cut in. That insanity came out of my mouth. He jerked his gaze to Scarlett’s panicked expression.

Honey crossed her arms and nodded. “You’re darn-tootin’. I’d like to have the wedding at the farm. I’ll talk to Brother Randy tomorrow. Do you think he’ll have a problem with that, Scarlett?”

“No.” Her voice was barely audible.

“Who’s Brother Randy?” he asked Honey, but kept a wary eye on his wife, who seemed to be blinking away tears.

“Oh, he’s our pastor. You haven’t met him yet, Gavin.” Honey dug in her purse and pulled out a pen and notepad.

Now he understood. The freaked-out woman behind the wheel might confuse him in many of ways, but God and family meant everything to her. Getting married in front of a Whitney Houston impersonator in Vegas was one thing, but saying vows in front of her pastor and relatives was another thing all together.

Damn, he really screwed this up. He should cut his losses and change the subject. “Honey, how long have you lived in Zachsville?”

“Oh, Lordy, I’ve been here my whole life.” She put her list away. “And I’m not gonna tell ya how long that is,” she said, and chuckled.

He laughed as Honey told him a few details about when she was a young girl. Scarlett gave him a small smile in the mirror and mouthed, thank you.

“Oooh, we’re already causin’ a stink.” Honey waved at a couple in front of the laundromat. “After we go to the beauty shop we can walk over to the pharmacy and see who’s there.”

“No. Honey, we’ll go to the Dip-n-Do, so you can say hello, and then we’re going home. I’m here to keep you from manipulating Gavin into parading all over town.”

“You’re right dear,” Honey said with absolute sincerity.

Gavin didn’t believe her for a minute.

Scarlett drove down the main street, which opened onto a town square. Maybe if he got out and pushed the car, they could pick up enough speed to get them there today. Finally, she pulled the car into a parking spot in front of a pink building with a giant wooden pair of scissors above the door.

Gavin exited the vehicle and opened Honey’s door. Her hand was soft in his, and the scent of baby powder and gardenias filled his head when she stood next to him. She wore cowboy boots, loose fitting jeans and a purple t-shirt with a pink sequined rearing horse on the front. Below the horse was written This ain’t my first rodeo.

They walked arm-in-arm up three tall steps. Gavin looked toward the building. “Are they watching?”

Honey smiled up at him, red lipstick on her two front teeth. “Yes, they are.” She used her free hand to remove her huge white sunglasses and hooked them in the neck of her shirt.

Scarlett stood with one arm resting on top of the car, and the other draped over the driver’s side door. “I’ll be back shortly. Gavin, if you need anything text me. You did put my number in your phone, right?”

“Yeah, I’ve got it. Don’t worry, we’ll be fine.” Did she think he was an idiot? Compared to the rest of his life this trip to town was a piece of cake.

“You two behave yourselves,” she called after them.

They ignored her.

A bell tinkled when the salon door opened and two women walked out of the shop. The younger of the two said, “See you next week, Ruby. Remember, don’t wash those lovely locks for forty-eight hours or you’ll ruin your perm.”

“Thank you, Maureen. See you next week,” the other woman said, and walked away down the street. Her hair was curled so tight to her head that it looked like a gray helmet.

“Honey Jenkins. I didn’t expect to see you here today.” Maureen’s tone indicated that’s exactly what she expected.

“I came for some of that good smellin’ shampoo you have,” Honey said.

Maureen pulled a cigarette from her smock pocket and lit it. “Who’s your friend?”

Honey’s mouth parted and she touched her hand to her throat, feigning ignorance to the rock star beside her. She didn’t fool anyone. “Oh. This is Scarlett’s new husband, Gavin Bain. Gavin, this is Maureen, she owns the Dip-n-Do.”

Gavin knew this was his cue. He threw an arm around Honey and smiled his best People Magazine smile. “Maureen, it’s nice to meet you.”

The shop owner plucked a piece of nicotine from her tongue and flicked it away. “I saw it on the news. Sounds like Scarlett went stark ravin’ crazy when she was out in Vegas.” She exhaled and cigarette smoke engulfed her like a noxious halo. “He’s good-lookin’ and all, but I don’t think he’s worth losin’ your good name over.”

Gavin knew how true the woman’s words were, but they still stung.

“Maureen Coulter, you take that back right this minute.” Gavin jerked at Honey’s outburst. Her soft affable eyes were now hard as granite and shooting anger at Maureen. “I will take my business to Lovely Tresses faster than you can blink. You do not want me as an enemy, Maureen. I know things.”

He was glad Honey defended Scarlett. He was frustrated with his wife, but it was unfair for people to talk trash about her. Admittedly, he didn’t understand much about families, but what he did know was that they were supposed to stand up for each other.

“You don’t talk about my family.” Honey jabbed her finger in Maureen’s direction. “You know how precious Scarlett is to me, and Gavin is a Kelly now. He will be treated with courtesy and respect, or I promise you, folks will know about that good-for-nothin’ son of yours and his interest in—”

“Fine.” Maureen held her hands up in surrender. “I take it back. Goodness, Molly Jean, you get so testy.” The beautician laughed nervously. “I’m sorry I spoke ill of your family.”

“It’s not me you need to apologize to.” If possible, Honey’s glare became more menacing.

“Okaaay.” Maureen looked at Gavin. “I’m sorry I was rude, Gavin.”

“That’s better.” Honey took Gavin by the arm and started down the street. He followed obediently.

“What about the shampoo?” Maureen hollered.

“I’ve decided I don’t like the smell as much as I thought I did,” Honey snapped.

The bright Texas sun beat down on his head. He barely noticed. He expended all his energy trying to recover from the shock of Honey’s words. Never had a woman defended him. Not once. They always blamed him. For everything. Starting with his junkie mom and continuing on to the last woman he briefly dated. According to the opposite sex, he’d been responsible for his mother’s addiction, been emotionally unavailable, and everything in between. Hell, even Scarlett blamed him for this screwed-up marriage.

“I’m hungry, how about some lunch at the café?” Honey interrupted his mental ramblings.

“What?”

“I said let’s go to the café to get a bite to eat. I’ve decided to let you treat me to lunch.” She was already moving down the sidewalk.

“Scarlett said to wait here for her.”

Honey turned to him, fist on her round hips. “Do you always do what people tell you to do?” She raised her precariously drawn-on eyebrows in challenge.

It was a mistake to get attached to this family, but it appeared it was too late. According to Honey, he was now a Kelly. He grinned and ambled toward her. “Nope.”

Her hoot of laughter filled the square. “Me either.”

* * *

The faux leather squeaked when Scarlett adjusted her position on the small sofa in the waiting area of the First National Bank of Zachsville. She couldn’t sit still. Her legs crossed and uncrossed, she moved from the front of the couch to the back, and the sounds coming from the loveseat were attracting attention. The Harper twins were pointing and laughing until their mother finished her business and dragged them out the door. What was it about eight-year-old boys and potty humor?

The hundred-year-old space hadn’t changed much since she was a kid. Something pine-scented pricked her nose but didn’t quite cover the smell of mildew and years of cigarette smoke that were as much a part of the old building as the light fixtures. Floor to ceiling windows spanned one side of the room looking out onto the town square. The offices along the other side of the lobby were made entirely of glass. It reminded her of the habitats at the San Antonio Zoo.

She could only see the top of Poppy’s head through her glass enclosure because the lower part of her window was frosted. She mentally rehearsed the speech she was going to give the bank president.

Scarlett’s sweaty hand ran over the column of her neck, and her fingers found the hammering pulse. The acid in her stomach churned like white-water rapids. She lost track of the laps her heart ran around her chest. Geez, she was a mess.

Who could blame her? Poppy had gotten her thrown in jail for solicitation. Stupid, she’d been so stupid, but how could she have known that Miss Most Likely to Succeed ran an escort service?

“When you get to the door, Scarlett, tell them your name is Heaven Leigh.”

“Why, Poppy?”

“Oh, it’s just a fun thing we’re doing.”

Scarlett brought her thumbnail to her mouth then stopped. She needed to calm down. Poppy could always smell fear. Any sign of weakness and she’d go for the throat. Scarlett envisioned her peaceful place and tried to find her center. Unfortunately, there was a giant hole where her center should be.

What was she going to say to the woman?

What’s up, Poppy. Still turnin’ tricks?

No. The best course of action was to ignore the giant pink elephant in the room. No good could come from dredging up the past.

“Ms. Sims will see you now, Scarlett.” A petite, older woman in a lavender pantsuit led her to the office and knocked just below the Bank President plate. “Scarlett Kelly to see you, Ma’am.”

Scarlett got her first look at Poppy in five years. She was gorgeous as ever. Expertly highlighted blonde locks were swept back in a tasteful chignon, her coral suit set off lovely green eyes. Her skin practically glowed, and the diamond studs in her ears twinkled in the sunlight coming through the window.

“Oh, my Lord! Scarlett.” A high pitched squeal was the only warning Scarlett had before Poppy ran around her desk and wrapped her in a death grip. The pretty, pretty princess rocked them from side to side, continuing her incessant squealing. It was like being embraced by the bastard child of an anaconda and a sorority girl.

Scarlett’s tear ducts watered from the assault of spicy perfume. Poppy’s gravity-defying breasts enveloped Scarlett’s head, cutting off all her airways. She would have extricated herself from the death-by-boobs hold, but her old nemesis had pinned her arms to her side so she could only flop her hands.

What the heck?

This was the last thing she’d expected. And if the former Miss Zachsville started singing Kumbaya, Scarlett was out of there.

Poppy abruptly released her to walk back behind her desk, causing Scarlett to stumble several clumsy steps.

“Sit, Scarlett, sit.” The beautiful woman gestured to one of the leather guest chairs.

Scarlett wondered how many eyeballs Poppy had gouged out to get that particular shade of red on her fingernails. “Thanks.”

“Sooooo, I heard you got married.” Poppy clasped her hands together and leaned onto her desk, like the next words out of Scarlett’s mouth would forever change her world.

“Yes.” Scarlett’s smile was so mechanical she was surprised there wasn’t a wind-up key sticking out of her back.

“How deliciously unexpected. You’re all the talk this morning. But I’m sure your family’s used to that.” Poppy gave a shrug and adjusted some papers on her desk.

“I’m sorry? I don’t think I understand your meaning.” She understood perfectly, but she was going to make the witch say it to her face.

Poppy didn’t disappoint. “Well, I mean, your mother caused quite a stir in her day. My mama tells me Mary Kelly was…well…you know that talk.” Her smile was sympathetic. Her eyes, though, were malicious and calculating.

It took all the courage Scarlett could muster, but she refused to look away. “Yes, I do know the talk.”

I am not my mother, I am not my mother.

Poppy reached her hand toward Scarlett, placing it palm down on the desk. At the same time, she cocked her head, pouted her lip and gave her the you poor thing face.

“Yes, well, that’s all in the past.”

Where it should stay. Didn’t these people ever forget anything? “I actually came to talk to you about our farm.” She opened her purse, pulled out the check for fifty thousand dollars, and slid it across the desk.

Poppy’s big whiskey gaze blinked once. Twice. “What’s this?”

“It’s the money for the loan on our farm that you called due yesterday.” She wanted to do the happy dance as she watched Poppy try to formulate a response.

“Ah…where exactly did you get this money?”

None of your business, witch.

Poppy’s lovely tan skin was losing color at an alarming rate. Well, it would be alarming if Scarlett cared. And she didn’t.

“This check is from another bank. How do I know the funds are available?” Poppy bit out.

Never comfortable with the folks she went to church with or sat next to at Friday football games knowing her business, she preferred to do her banking in the next town over. “Oh, I assure you the funds are there, but feel free to call and verify.” She sat back in her chair and crossed her legs.

Poppy’s face readjusted into a professional mask. “Oh, I’m sure that’s not necessary.”

“Okay, then, I won’t take up any more of your time.” She stood and slung her purse over her shoulder. “It was good to see you again, Poppy. Have a great day.”

Six feet.

Four feet.

A few more steps. She was almost to the door.

Three feet.

One foot. She reached for the handle. The sound of paper ripping and Poppy’s icy voice stopped her dead in her tracks.

“Not so fast, Heaven Leigh.”