Kissing Rigby at a public event was bad enough. Realizing Vernon was there watching was a thousand times worse. And the most disconcerting part was that the kiss had felt personal … intimate, the spark between them burning as strong as ever, maybe even more so now. Scarlett could only hope Vernon hadn’t noticed how affected she was by the kiss. As it turned out, Cindy Stubblefield had her baby in record time. Vernon rushed to the fair because he could hear the disappointment in Scarlett’s voice when he told her he couldn’t come. She was sure fate was getting a big chuckle out of this one. If Scarlett had known there was kissing involved, she never would’ve participated in the competition. She suspected the kiss was added because Mayor Tate and the Ladies Club wanted to spice up the fair. Rigby was a celebrity and they’d once been a couple. The whole thing reeked of a setup.

“And to think, I was worried you were spending the evening alone,” Vernon said, condemnation dripping from his voice.

Scarlett felt like a slime ball, but rushed to defend herself all the same. “It’s not my fault the Mayor wanted me to kiss him.” Her face felt so hot, she thought she might spontaneously combust.

Vernon scowled. “You didn’t have to kiss him on the lips.”

She let out a long breath. That had been a huge mistake on her part. Pressure from the crowd mixed with Rigby’s goading caused her to lose her head for a second. She could trace ninety percent of all the reckless things she’d done in her life back to him. “It was a spur of the moment thing.” She gave Vernon a searching look, and hated herself for it, but couldn’t help comparing him to Rigby. He was medium height, on the thin side like a golfer, whereas Rigby had the lithe, muscular build of an athlete. Vernon was cute with his milk chocolate eyes, thick hair, and white teeth—certainly the type of man to turn a woman’s head. But he didn’t possess Rigby’s movie-star looks or commanding presence. When Rigby walked into a room, heads turned and everyone knew he was there. He wasn’t an attention hog, it was simply part of his persona. He exuded that larger-than-life, confident vibe that made him such a force to be reckoned with on the field. Vernon was temperate, understated, while Rigby was a hothead. Scarlett’s mind scrambled to list all of Vernon’s qualities so she could tip the scale in his favor. Vernon was thorough with his patients and highly intelligent. He’d graduated at the top of his medical class. And the best part about Vernon—he had a stable practice in Clementine with no plans to go elsewhere, not to mention that she didn’t have to share him with the world. She touched Vernon’s arm. “Hey, I’m sorry. It was a silly competition that meant nothing.”

He looked thoughtful. “How exactly did you end up being the one to throw the pie in Rigby’s face?”

Oops. How in the heck was she supposed to answer that? She was relieved when Harper stepped over to where they were sitting. “Hey, y’all. Mind if I join you?”

“Not at all,” Scarlett said quickly, scooting closer to Vernon so Harper would have room to sit. Scarlett glanced over at Rigby surrounded by a group of admiring women. Why was she not surprised? It was ridiculous how women were always throwing themselves at him. They always had, even in high school and college. But now that he was a superstar, it was infinitely worse. She’d seen enough about Rigby on the Internet to know the adoration didn’t just happen in Clementine.

After the kiss, she’d made a bee-line to Vernon so she could smooth things over. She wondered what Rigby thought of the experience. Okay, not that it mattered. Rigby meant nothing to her. He was a part of her past, but that was the extent of it. She balled her fist. She’d do well to keep reminding herself of that.

She touched Vernon’s arm. “I’m really glad you came.”

He relaxed a fraction and reached for her hand. “Me too.”

“So … are you still gonna bid on my pie?”

“Of course. I’ve been looking forward to eating a piece of your sweet potato pie all day … and sharing the company of the most beautiful woman here. I’m prepared to outbid anyone.”

“Well, you’d better get out your checkbook, Doc, because I saw Walter Minford eyeing Scarlett’s pie, and he paid a small fortune for it last year,” Harper piped in.

Vernon’s lips thinned as they drew together. “Walter will just have to get used to disappointment because this year Scarlett’s pie will be mine, regardless of cost.” He put an arm around her, pulling her close.

“Thank you,” Scarlett chimed, resting her head on his shoulder, appreciating how safe and secure she felt with him.

* * *

The baked goods auction was underway. Mayor Tate was acting as auctioneer. Short with receding, strawberry-blonde hair, spectacles, and a round belly, he was the quintessential politician who loved being in the limelight with a captive audience. Even though it had been years since Rigby attended one of these auctions, he knew the drill. The bakers of the goods were supposed to remain anonymous until the bids were secured, so there wouldn’t be any bias. But everyone generally knew who made what. When Rigby heard Harper mention Scarlett’s sweet potato pie, he made a mental note. Then he did what any person with half a brain would do … he asked his grandmother which one was Scarlett’s. Coralee did her normal, “You know I can’t tell you which pie belongs to Scarlett. That would be breaking the rules.” And then she stepped over and tapped Scarlett’s pie. It was fun seeing Coralee in her element, ruling the roost.

When the leggy blonde next to him “accidentally” brushed his leg for the umpteenth time, he angled away from her. Her name was Hollie, and she was chatting him up as if they were bosom friends, but she’d moved to Clementine a couple of years prior and Rigby hadn’t seen her before tonight. Pepper McClain sat on the other side of him. They’d graduated from the same class in high school. Pepper was divorced with a couple of kids, and from her not-so-subtle signals, Rigby could only assume she was on the lookout for her next boyfriend or husband. He about jumped out of his skin when Pepper touched his leg and leaned in close enough for him to get a tickle in his throat from her musky perfume. A phrase Coralee frequently said stuck in his mind. The girl was wearing enough perfume to knock over an ox.

“You wouldn’t believe how complicated it is to make a cherry cheesecake from scratch,” she drawled in a husky tone. “I slaved away for half the day,” she finished, batting her fake eyelashes.

Rigby looked at the cheesecake in question as Mayor Tate held it up for display. “This cheesecake looks fantastic, folks. Who wants to start the bid?”

A man raised his hand. “Fifteen dollars.”

“Fifteen dollars, from the gentleman in the back.” The Mayor examined the item. “This wasn’t made from a box, folks. It’s the real deal … a New York-style cheesecake.”

“Twenty dollars,” another man said.

Rigby could feel the tension radiating off Pepper who clearly expected him to bid on her cheesecake. But he had no intention of getting involved with Pepper McClain or Hollie … whatever her last name was. The only woman he was interested in was sitting across the way cuddled up with Vernie Stanley. He scowled.

The cheesecake went for fifty dollars to the first man who’d bid. Mayor Tate smiled. “This cheesecake belongs to the lovely Pepper McClain. Pepper, stand up so we can see you.” She stood as all eyes went to her. The Mayor motioned at the man who’d won. “The two of you can meet up afterwards to share the cheesecake.”

As the auction continued Rigby kept his eyes fixed straight ahead, so he wouldn’t have to look at either of the women beside him. His pulse bumped up a notch when the Mayor held up Scarlett’s pie. “This one’s a Southern favorite, folks—sweet potato pie. Who’ll start the bid for this one?”

“Ten dollars,” a teenage boy called out from the front.

“Twenty dollars,” Vernie said loudly.

Is that all she’s worth to you? was the first thought that ran through Rigby’s mind. He got a good look at Vernie. He’d come a long way since high school—a decent-looking guy, but too tightly wound with his severe haircut and business attire clothing. Rigby tensed as the bidding continued. Walter Minford, the middle-aged man Harper mentioned, kept bidding until the two were in an all-out war. It kept going back and forth until the bid got to five hundred dollars.

Excitement buzzed through the crowd. “I believe this is a record,” the Mayor said. He looked at Walter. “Do you want to go higher?”

Walter shook his head in disappointment.

Rigby looked at the proud expression on Vernie’s face and then at Scarlett. She deserved a good man who could make her happy. Maybe he should just keep his mouth shut and let the past stay where it belonged. Then for some strange reason, Scarlett looked at him and he felt that same spark he’d felt earlier, wicking through his veins with enough juice to jumpstart a tractor. And deep in his bones he knew … it was Hail Mary time. “One thousand dollars,” Rigby said.

Murmurs rippled through the crowd as Mayor Tate rocked back. “One thousand dollars from Rocket Breeland.”

Vernon’s face turned a shade darker as he glared at Rigby. “Twelve hundred.”

No matter how much Vernie bid, Rigby was determined to go higher. “Two thousand,” he said evenly.

“Twenty-five hundred,” Vernon countered.

Scarlett’s face was beet red, and she didn’t look happy with him, but Rigby had come this far and couldn’t back down now. “Five thousand.”

“Fifty-five hundred,” Vernon said, but Rigby could feel his fear as surely as if the man had been standing next to him.

At this point, the kind thing to do was to just end this before it got out of hand. He didn’t know how much money Vernie made, but he imagined it wasn’t a whole lot in Clementine. He felt guilty for putting the poor man in this situation. He probably should’ve thought through this whole scenario before he opened his mouth. But now there was only one thing he could do. He straightened his shoulders. “Ten thousand dollars.”

A stunned silence descended over the crowd. Vernon was furious, Scarlett pale. Even the Mayor was at a loss for words.

Finally, Mayor Tate spoke. “Ten thousand dollars.” He looked at Vernon. “Do you wanna counter that?”

Vernon shook his head and looked away.

“The bid stands at ten thousand dollars,” the Mayor proclaimed. “This pie belongs to none other than the lovely Scarlett Foster. Scarlett will you please stand?”

Scarlett stood and waved, a tight smile fixed over her face.

“Scarlett, you and The Rocket can meet up afterwards to share your pie,” the Mayor said. “And hopefully, Rocket will be able to eat this one rather than having it thrown in his face.” He chuckled deeply at his own joke, sounding like huh, huh.

“Well, that was interesting,” Pepper said icily.

Knowing all eyes were on him, Rigby just sat there, a placid expression on his face. Thanks to the many press conferences he’d attended over the years, he had the poker-face thing down to a science. Once the auction resumed, he glanced at Scarlett and Vernie who appeared to be arguing. He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. That didn’t go like he’d hoped. Then again, what did he expect? That he would waltz back into town and win Scarlett back the first evening? Even as the thoughts flitted through his mind, he realized something—he wanted her back. And the ten thousand dollars he’d paid to state his intent was a pittance. He would’ve paid ten times that if he thought he stood a chance. His mind ran through the events leading up to him placing the bid. It was the way Scarlett looked at him that prompted him to do it.

For one tiny moment, he saw something in her eyes that made him believe she still loved him too.

* * *

The night had gone from bad to worse. Scarlett stood beside the table, waiting for Rigby to join her and eat a piece of congratulatory pie. The minute the auction ended, Vernon stormed off mad enough to chew nails. She was ticked at Vernon for acting so juvenile about the whole thing like a jealous maniac. It was a stupid pie. She and Rigby would eat a piece, and that would be that. Vernon had the nerve to suggest Scarlett did something to lead Rigby on, but she hadn’t … had she? She’d not meant to look his direction, hadn’t meant to hope that he would bid on her pie. And then their eyes locked, and she felt something stir inside her. She could almost see the wheels turning in Rigby’s head as he placed the bid. From that point, she had no doubt Rigby would win. He would’ve won if he had to die trying. She couldn’t help but feel a little impressed at his tenacity, but the obscene amount he paid for the pie was downright embarrassing.

Someone touched her arm. She turned as Coralee stepped up beside her. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

Coralee studied her. “That was some auction.”

“Yes.” She wasn’t sure what to say. After all, she couldn’t exactly badmouth Rigby to Coralee. Did she want to badmouth him? She wasn’t sure what she wanted where Rigby was concerned.

“Rigby never does anything small,” Coralee said, and from the intense way she was staring, Scarlett got the feeling Coralee could see right through her.

“That’s an understatement,” she grunted.

“He cares about you, Scarlett. He always has.”

The words broadsided her causing tears to spring to her eyes. She quickly blinked them away.

Coralee gave her a maternal smile. “As you know, it’s not easy growing up without parents. Rigby had to get tough or die, so to speak. He’s tough on the outside but a teddy bear inside.” She cleared her throat, her eyes going misty. “Rigby’s been through a lot, please don’t break his heart.”

Scarlett’s first impulse was to laugh, and then she wanted to argue that she and Rigby no longer had that type of relationship. She was the victim here—the one nursing the broken heart. Rigby had rebounded to Sadonna Roberts faster than Scarlett could blink. And sure, that hadn’t worked out too well for him, which is probably what Coralee was referring to. But that had been Rigby’s own stupid fault. Any words Scarlett could’ve formed died on her lips seeing the concern in Coralee’s eyes, so she simply nodded. Coralee’s lips pressed together in acknowledgement as she walked regally away. An army of traitorous butterflies unleashed in Scarlett’s stomach when Rigby stepped up.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” she responded.

He cleared his throat, then glanced around. “So, where do you wanna eat the pie?”

It struck her then that he was more jittery than a popcorn kernel in hot oil. For some reason, this helped put her at ease. “Let’s go find an empty picnic table somewhere.” She reached for the pie. “Can you grab those napkins and forks?”

“Sure.”

As they walked side-by-side to find an empty table, people passing gave them curious glances. “Well, you’ve managed to capture the interest of the town, even more than you normally do,” she said wryly. “Ten thousand dollars for a pie.” She looked down. “A pie which is unfortunately cold with no whipped cream.”

“I’m sure it’ll taste great,” he said absently.

She frowned. “Are you okay?”

He forced a smile. “Yeah.”

First, he’d bid an obscene amount for her pie, and now he was acting distant. It made no sense. She pointed. “There’s an empty table.” They went to it and sat down across from each other where Scarlett proceeded to dish out the pie. She gave him his and waited for him to take a bite. When he didn’t, she cocked her head. “What’s wrong?”

His eyes met hers. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass you tonight with the bid.”

Had Rigby acted smug about the auction, she would’ve been justified in staying on her high-horse, but now that he was apologizing … Well, she didn’t know what to think.

She shook her head, chuckling under her breath. “Ten thousand dollars for a pie?” She couldn’t wrap her mind around what it must be like to have that kind of money, which you could plop down on a whim. “What were you thinking?”

“About you.”

She jerked. “What?”

He shrugged. “You looked at me …”

“And what?” she prompted, already knowing what he was going to say.

His eyes met hers. “And I could tell.” He coughed to clear his throat.

“You could tell what?” she prompted, her jaw tightening.

“That you wanted me to bid.”

“That’s not true.” Hot needles pelted her, and she felt nauseated. Was she that obvious? No wonder Vernon had left in a huff.

“I had fun with you tonight. We had fun tonight.” An easy smile tugged at his lips. “Admit it. You had a blast.”

She couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, shoving pie in your face had its benefits.”

“And the kiss?”

Her face flamed as she tried to formulate a response.

He lifted an eyebrow. “I rest my case.”

Rigby was notorious for backing her into a corner. “Well, you’re certainly as conceited as you’ve always been. Expecting every woman to fall at your feet.”

“No, not expecting … just hoping for the admiration of one.” The words were spoken like a caress that sent Scarlett’s pulse racing. Rigby touched her hand, sending electricity buzzing through her. “What if,” he continued, “we forget everything that happened in the past and go on a few dates? See what happens.”

Forget the past? He might as well have asked her to capture the moon and put it in a jar. A hard laugh gurgled in her throat. “We’re supposed to just drop everything and date each other?”

“Sure. Why not?”

“Well, Vernon, for one,” she retorted.

His features tightened. “Are you really gonna marry Vernie?”

The incredulous way he phrased the question grated on her nerves. “It’s not Vernie, but Vernon,” she corrected.

He rolled his eyes. “Call him what you want. He’s still the same annoying kid that used to follow us around like a puppy dog.”

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “I’ll have you know that Vernon’s a highly skilled physician who saves lives, unlike some person who thinks passing a football around a field makes him a god.”

He chuckled humorlessly, his blue eyes reminding Scarlett of a frosty pond. “I’m well aware of my skills and limitations, thank you very much. And for the record, I’ve never claimed to be anything more than what I am.” He gave her a shrewd look. “You’re just attacking me to deflect the situation because you don’t want to face a certain fact.”

Her face was so hot, she felt like her head would explode. No one could get her riled faster than Rigby. “What’re you getting at?” she spat.

“Vernie’s not the right guy for you.”

She let out a harsh laugh. “Don’t think for one minute you can come charging into town and pronounce judgement on me.” She hated the tremble in her voice and the traitorous tears that sprang to her eyes as her voice went higher. “You left, and that means you don’t get a say.”

He leaned forward into her personal space, his eyes honing in with laser-like focus. “I asked—no, begged you to come with me.” His voice went hoarse. “So in reality, you’re the one who left me. And yet, I’m here … asking for another chance.”

Before Scarlett could answer, her grandfather strode up to them. She fixed on a smile. “Hey.”

“Scarlett,” Douglas said curtly, giving Rigby a scathing look before turning his attention back to her. “I’ve been looking for you all over. You didn’t answer your phone.”

“Oh, sorry. I put my phone on silent during the auction and forgot to turn the ringer back on.”

“Mr. Foster. How ya’ doing?” Rigby said.

Douglas ignored Rigby but kept his eyes trained on Scarlett. “Vernon’s meeting us back at the house for homemade ice cream.”

Her brows darted together. “Really? I thought he was going home for the evening.” Even though Scarlett was ticked at Rigby, she didn’t appreciate her grandfather treating him so rudely. Douglas had always clashed with Rigby but was tight with Vernon. No doubt he was freaking out that Rigby had bid ten thousand dollars on her pie, which now she was here, sharing with him.

“I caught him on the way out and invited him,” Douglas said.

Scarlett didn’t want to see Vernon tonight, not after the way he acted. Nor did she appreciate her grandfather trying to control her life. She arched an eyebrow. “I’ll be there as soon as Rigby and I finish our pie.”

Douglas drew himself up. “It’s unwise to keep Vernon waiting while you—”

“Eat pie with the winner of the bid?” Scarlett shot back. “That’s all this is, nothing more.” Even as she spoke her last words, she saw Rigby’s features tighten.

Rigby stood, looking at Scarlett, regret settling into his eyes. “I’ve held you up long enough. It would be a shame to keep your fiancé waiting … for pie.” He turned, looking Douglas in the eye. “Mr. Foster,” he said with a curt nod.

The faint mocking tone of Rigby’s voice pricked Scarlett. She was about to protest that he’d not taken a single bite of the pie, but realized that would make her sound wishy washy. One minute, her inclination was to draw him near, and the next, she was pushing him away. She’d always considered herself a straight shooter and didn’t like this side of herself.

She was unprepared for the feeling of loss that punched at her gut when Rigby turned on his heel and strode away.