At the knock on his front door, Joe jumped up and rushed over to it, thinking maybe it was Verna. But then he remembered that she’d left home not ten minutes earlier, so the chances were slim. Not that she’d come over here anyway. Oh, she kept up the pretense, waving and smiling, responding politely to his inquiries when pressed, but there may as well have been an alligator-filled moat between them. She’d even taken to parking inside her garage.

Joe couldn’t think of anything else he’d so thoroughly fucked up, especially not something so important. And she was important; he knew that now. Verna meant more to him than anyone else ever had. He loved her.

With that utterly depressing thought, he opened the door, surprised to see a woman he recognized from her visits to Verna—and from that night—on his doorstep. And even more surprised when she walked in without an invitation. He’d learned how different small towns were, but this was out of the ordinary, even for Thornehill Springs.

“Ma’am…?”

The woman whirled around to face him, and he was a bit taken aback by the ferocity on her face.

“I don’t have a lot of time. I want to get out of here before Verna gets back.”

“What is this about?” he asked, raising himself to his full height, not that the smaller woman paid him any mind.

“Blakely Bishop.” She extended a hand, which he shook, though she looked less than pleased to formally make his acquaintance. “This is about how you’re going to fix the mess you created.”

She stared him down, her gaze practically daring him to object.

“Look, I don’t—”

“Save it,” she said, and then she shook her head. “I probably shouldn’t be meddling, and quite frankly”—she eyed him suspiciously—“I haven’t decided whether you’re worth the effort, but she’s over the moon about you, and since you so clearly don’t have the smarts or will to do anything about it, I had to intervene.”

Joe sagged against the door. “To tell the truth, I’m probably not worth the effort and I certainly don’t deserve a break,” he said after a moment.

“But you care about her?”

He lifted his gaze to the woman. “I do. Very much.”

“Well, then, tell her!”

“I’ve tried. She won’t listen.”

“Try harder,” she said, her words echoing Poole’s.

“I don’t know what else to do,” he admitted.

“Get creative. Skulking around on your lawn long enough to say hi and bye isn’t going to cut it.”

“Any ideas?” he tossed out.

She gave him a long-suffering sigh and then smiled tightly.

“Oh, I don’t know: think big. Do something crazy like apologize, grovel if need be, and then maybe ask her out on a date,” she said sarcastically.

He wanted to be offended, but to his embarrassment he realized, as simple as it seemed now that she’d said it, he hadn’t considered the idea.

“So it’s as easy as that, huh?”

“I didn’t say it would be easy. She’d be well within her rights to turn you down cold, and probably should, at least as far as I’m concerned. But you won’t know until you try, will you?”

She looked at her watch and then strode toward the door, shooing him out of her path. “Now get to work, and be quick about it,” she called over her shoulder as she left.

---

“We’re looking forward to partnering with you, Ms. Love,” the loan officer said, reaching across her desk to shake Verna’s hand as she stood.

Verna stood and shook the offered hand, but she was light-headed, almost dizzy with the emotion that coursed through her. Or her Spanx might have been squeezing the air out of her; she couldn’t tell which. But whatever the cause, she was elated.

“Thank you,” Verna said, managing to keep her tone professional.

“We’ll be in touch with paperwork and have everything finalized in the next week or so,” the loan officer said.

“Great.” Verna nodded. “It’s been a pleasure to meet you,” she said.

And then she left the bank and walked toward her car. Floated was probably a more apt description. Verna could envision herself, decked out in the expertly sewn black suit, one she’d made for herself and specifically for this occasion, not a hair out of place. She imagined she projected the image of a smart, savvy businesswoman, something that now that she’d secured the necessary loans, she might be on her way to becoming.

It was surreal, a feeling that stayed with her as she walked down Maple toward her parked car. She’d opted not to park in the bank’s lot, wanting to steal a few extra minutes to go over her proposal and figuring the walk over would help her conquer any residual nerves. Verna had agonized over writing a bulletproof business plan and had been skeptical that she’d secure the funding. But it had worked, and once the papers were signed, she’d officially be the new owner of La Femme.

A little thrill went through her at the thought. It had started small, a little kernel of hope that, as she’d worked with Blakely and considered taking on more clients, had grown and grown until she couldn’t resist trying. She knew how hard it would be to run a small business, but she wasn’t afraid of the hard work. She could do this, was, in fact, well on her way. Her joy was like helium, light enough to make her float away. Only one thing held her to the ground.

She didn’t have anyone to share her news with.

That wasn’t technically true. She didn’t have Joe to share her news with. Blakely and Ariel would be ecstatic and so would Quinn. In truth, Joe probably would be too. But in that detached, neighborly way. Not in the way of the person who cared about her as more than a friend, the way of one who’d seemed, at least at times, like he thought her capable of anything.

Think of the good, V, she said to herself, and really, all was good, better than she’d ever thought she’d have for herself, but still that melancholy hung like a specter in the background, haunting her happiness.

And that was how she walked, wavering between pure joy and a bit of whimsical regret, pretty much ignoring the outside world.

Awareness had the hair on the back of her neck standing at attention, and she turned sharply to the right, startled by Joe and his truck creeping beside her.

“Motherfucker, Joe. How many times do I have to tell you to stop sneaking up on me!”

He just smiled, a slow, lazy smile that made her think of that same expression on his face as he entered her, taking her with unhurried passion while she writhed beneath him, desperate for more. The sting in her chest at that thought made her eyes tear, but Joe didn’t seem to notice, or more likely chose to overlook them.

“You out for a stroll?” he asked.

“Something like that,” she responded, turning and beginning to walk away.

“You look beautiful.”

She looked back at him for a moment and then turned away.

“Sun’s melted what was left of your brain, I see. Don’t know that it’s safe to be driving in that condition, Joey.”

The words held an affection that she hadn’t wanted to reveal and that, more disturbingly, had come far too easy.

“You’re right.”

He parallel parked like a pro and got out.

“Joe, you can’t park on Maple Street. Someone might hit your precious truck,” she said snidely.

“The truck can be replaced; some other things can’t,” he said, coming to stand directly in front of her.

She hadn’t been this close to him in what felt like forever, and the urge to throw her arms around him and hold him close was so strong, she had to ball her fingers into fists to try and tamp down the impulse. Once she had control, she stepped around him, and proceeded. To her surprise, he followed.

“Where are we headed?”

“I’m going to lunch. Alone.”

She’d decided it was time to end the cold war with her parents and with Love’s and today seemed like a good day to start, so she continued down the street toward Love’s, Joe trailing behind her.

---

“It’s different on this side of the table,” she said as they sat at one of the few unoccupied spots.

“How so?”

“It’s just weird. Very weird. To be honest,” she said, looking directly at him for the first time since they’d sat, “I’d secretly imagined that the place would fall apart. Maybe even wished it. But they seem to be managing without me,” she said as her gaze skipped around the near-capacity dining room.

“You okay with that?”

She shrugged. “What other choice do I have? I guess I’ll just console myself with the fiction that my tireless efforts instilled such a strong structure that I made myself obsolete. Yeah, right.”

She rolled her eyes.

“That’s probably true, you know? I saw how hard you worked here, how you set the tone. You picked good people and taught them the right way to do things and they’re keeping it up.”

“Sure. Or maybe it’s just habit. People came here before me, and they obviously don’t have a problem doing so now that I’m gone.

“Verna…”

“Stop. I’m fine with it, Joe. Really. I had some low moments, but I’ve never wanted my family’s business to suffer. I’m happy that they’ve continued without missing a beat.”

Joe was skeptical; she sounded like she was being honest, but with Verna, he could never quite tell. He started to protest but she stopped him.

“Let’s drop it. I’m in no mood for a lecture, Joe.”

“But—”

“No, stop. I don’t want to hear it.”

“Hear what?” he asked.

Her eyes flashed at him, the anger in them potent.

“It doesn’t matter. I’m going now.”

She went to stand and he lay his hand atop hers.

“Please stay,” he said.

“No,” she shook her head. “I don’t think I will.”

When she stood, Joe noticed the not remotely sly glances of onlookers, but Verna didn’t seem to care, and after she smoothed her skirt, which really did look amazing on her curved frame, and he’d have to tell her so, she exited. Joe didn’t let her get two steps before he was beside her, heartened by the annoyed look she threw his way, one of the few hints of the Verna he’d fallen for.

“Look,” she said, “save the speeches, okay? I’m in no mood.”

“What speeches?”

“All that rah-rah, Verna-you-could-be-the-shit-if-you-wanted-to crap that you spout.”

“You don’t want me to tell the truth?”

That stopped her in her tracks, and she turned to him.

“What? Like you did that night,” she said.

Her words, the poison in them and the hurt in her eyes that went with it were all his fault, and that knowledge stung.

“Don’t say you’re sorry,” she said when he would have begun speaking.

“Why not?”

“I fucking hate those words. Why are you sorry? You just followed your instincts, did what you should have even if you didn’t have the words to say as much.” Her voice was hard, but he could see the hurt in her eyes.

“Stuff it, Verna.”

Hurt turned to surprise as she squinted at him.

“Did you just tell me to stuff it?”

“I did, and you need to. Now, listen to me.” He reached up and held her face in his hands tenderly. “I’m sorry. That doesn’t really convey what I feel but from the very bottom of my heart, I sincerely apologize for what I did and I hope you can forgive me.”

His gaze searched hers, and he prayed she felt the truth of his words. “You’re an amazing woman, Verna, the best I’ve ever known. I love you.”

“Did you just…?”

“Yep.”

He smiled and dropped his hands, but she just stood in seemingly shocked silence.

“Okay. I’m dreaming.” She turned a complete circle before facing him again. “I just got a loan to buy La Femme. I’m going to run my very own clothing boutique, and Joe fuckin’ MacDermid just said he loves me right in the middle of Maple Street.”

“You’re gonna buy La Femme? That’s wonderful!” he said, genuinely proud and happy for her.

“Fuck the store for a minute. If you’re fucking with me…” she whispered, tears again in her eyes.

“I’ve never declared love before, but tears were not what I expected,” he said, trying to make light of the moment.

“I don’t believe you,” she said faintly.

His breath caught in his throat, but he pushed on.

“Well, I don’t believe that you don’t believe me,” he said. “But I’m willing to try and convince you for as long as it takes. Starting right now.”

He pulled her close and lowered his head to hers, capturing her lips in a kiss, one that he poured himself into. A kiss could never prove how much he loved her, he knew, but he tried, held her as close as he could while staying decent and kissed her with all his heart. When he lifted his head, he looked down at Verna, her eyes cloudy, but this time with happiness, and her lips puffy from his kiss.

“You’re kind of an asshole, Joe, but I love you too,” she said, that bright, shiny smile lighting her entire face.

It took a few moments for him to hear the cheers and clapping, and when he looked around, he saw that they’d gathered a crowd, one that included Poole and Blakely, who nodded what he took as approval at him. Verna looked around and saw it too, and he tried to imagine how this felt for her, someone who’d spent her entire life with these people.

“Is this okay?” he asked.

She smiled and then let out a boisterous laugh.

“Are you serious? Best fuckin’ day ever!”

---

Verna had been serious when she’d proclaimed very unexpectedly, very publicly, that this was the best day ever. She’d only been proven more right as Joe had driven her home in his truck, his eyes bright with lust and, though she could still barely believe it, love. Save for the memory of the look in Joe’s eyes, the ride had been a blur, as had the desperate way that they’d undressed each other and fallen into his bed, passion and true affection a potent combination that only enhanced their lovemaking.

As Joe lay atop her, moving inside her with urgency but also whispering sweet words of love and caressing her softly, almost worshipfully, Verna couldn’t ignore the fleeting wonder that had her asking what had driven his change of heart. But then, as her climax hit her, she wondered no more, sucked into the passionate wave created by this man that she loved so dearly.

Later, when their breathing had evened and their bodies cooled, Joe lay looking at her naked form and at her eyes, his own revealed to her. His scrutiny made her feel bare, exposed, and on instinct, she reached for the sheet but in an instant changed her mind. There’d be no hiding anymore, physically or emotionally.

“Joe, why are you looking at me like that?” she finally asked.

“I’m just so happy to have you here; I wanna take all of you in.”

“Are you afraid you’re going to forget or something?”

The words were half serious, half joking. Declaration notwithstanding, Joe hadn’t said what he wanted from her, nor she him, and they both needed to be clear.

“I’ll never forget, Verna. Ever.”

The soft earnestness of the statement, the fact that Verna knew Joe was a man of his word, had Verna’s heart soaring and seizing at the same time. He really meant what he’d said. All of it. She hoped he could accept more, because, no matter how much she loved, and she did, truly, deeply, irrevocably love him, she’d cut out her heart and live life without him if the alternative was continuing as they had been. She wanted him, all of him, and she wanted him to want all of her. As painful as leaving him would be, she’d accept no less.

“So that kiss on Maple, that was a pretty prominent display; no doubt everyone from here to Charlotte has heard about it by now.”

“Good,” he said.

“Being publicly linked with me is something you’re okay with?”

“Verna, I feel like you need to get something off your chest, so please do.”

The words were direct, firm, as Joe so often was, but only that lust and affection burned in his eyes.

“Why, Joe?”

His eyes hooded, some of the spark fading. “Because I’m an asshole. I shouldn’t have done that, Verna, and I’d give anything to take it back. I was scared and stupid and I’ll do whatever it takes to make you trust me again.”

She saw the sincerity in his eyes and heard it in his voice but it wasn’t enough. “I want everything, Joe. You’re going to hold my fuckin’ hand as we walk down the aisle at the grocery store, and you’re going to tell everyone that we’re together and you’re going to be super nice to me all the time.”

“Deal.”

Verna smiled, relief lightening her and a streak of mischief rising in the wake of the sadness that had left her.

“And you’re going to stop correcting me when I say you’re in the Army or call you Jojo.”

“Not a chance.”

They both laughed and then caught each other in a fierce embrace.