The next day dawned bright and clear, not a cloud in the sky. Rigby got up early as usual and went through his training regiment. Although in a few short hours none of it would matter. His career would most likely be over, and Scarlett believed he was a lying cheater. Coralee tried to talk him into going with her to the press conference to defend himself, but he didn’t see the point. Everyone was determined to believe the worst. And if he saw Miles Devlin right now he’d probably punch him again for good measure, which wouldn’t help matters. So, he took solace in the one place that had never failed him—his high school football field. Things had been simpler then. All he had to worry about was performing during the game—getting the ball across the end zone. If his career got stripped away, he’d have to find something else to occupy his time. He dearly loved Coralee, but there was no way he could live here in the same town with Scarlett and not be with her. A pit settled in his stomach. Losing her was the hardest part of all.

He was sitting on the fifty-yard line. He brought his legs to his chest wrapping his arms around his knees, staring at the goal post in the distance.

“Hello.”

He looked around, surprised to see Scarlett. She sat down beside him.

“What’re you doing here?” he mumbled, wondering how she’d found him. Then again, Scarlett knew him better than anybody, which is why it hurt so badly that she believed he’d been unfaithful.

She gave him a sidelong glance. “The question is … what’re you doing here?”

He shook his head, not answering.

Scarlett touched his arm. “Look at me.”

He turned to her face her.

She offered a tender smile. “I’m sorry about yesterday. You’re right, I shouldn’t have been so quick to jump to conclusions.”

“So you believe me now?” he shot back, but his spirits lifted a little. The fact that she was here, apologizing, was a good sign.

She lifted an eyebrow. “Would I be here if I didn’t?” she retorted.

He shifted. “I guess not.”

She took his hand. “I know you’re telling the truth. After you left yesterday, I went back to the florist and got to the bottom of the situation. Vernon was behind the whole thing.”

“I’m not surprised,” he muttered darkly.

“But not just the blog rumor and flowers, he’s the one who talked Grandpa into suing you and holding the press conference with Miles Devlin. Vernon’s the primary reason Grandpa hates you so much. He’s been feeding him lies about you for the past two years.”

Now that was a shock. He’d never pegged Vernie to be so conniving. “Why?”

Moisture gathered in her eyes. “Because Vernon knew how much I loved you. He was using Grandpa to drive a wedge between us.”

He softened. “Wow,” he breathed, taking it all in. Having Scarlett here with him now was more comforting than words could express. He looked across the field, his tone musing. “Lots of memories on this field.”

“Yes,” she agreed. “Lots of good memories.”

“You know, people always talk about how I spend my life trying to perfect the perfect throw, but that’s not exactly true.”

She tipped her head. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not trying to deliver the perfect throw, but the perfect catch.” He gave her a slight smile, desperation spilling over him. “I’ve been trying to throw you the perfect catch my whole life. I just don’t understand what it’ll take to make you receive it.”

A single tear rolled down her cheek.

“Scarlett, if you can’t learn to trust me …”

“I can,” she asserted. “I do trust you. I just had a moment’s doubt, leftover residue from the Sadonna thing.” She looked at him, fire flickering in her dark eyes. “I can catch anything you throw at me, Rigby Breeland. I want to be with you always. That’s more important to me than anything … even the restaurant.”

The words sank deep in his heart, bringing tears to his eyes. “I would never ask you to give up your restaurant for me. You’ve worked too hard to …”

She put a finger to his lips. “I know.” She smiled. “We’ll find another solution.” Her expression grew resolute. “I promise you, I’ll never let anything come between us again.”

His gaze took in her expressive eyes and delicate jaw line. A shot of adrenaline went through him as he traced the outline of her beautiful lips. Suddenly, his future didn’t look so bleak. Regardless of what happened to his career, the most important part had been restored. Not only was he regaining the love of his life but also his best friend. A smile tugged at his lips. “I love you, Scarlett Foster.” Tears glistened in his eyes. “I’ve loved you for so long I can’t remember not loving you.”

“I love you too,” she uttered before he leaned in and gave her a long, breathless kiss.

When the kiss ended, she pulled back, a saucy grin curving her lips. “So, Rocket,” she drawled, caressing his cheek. “I never pegged you for a quitter. Are you gonna hide out all day licking your wounds, or are we gonna fight this press conference thing?”

Her fierce spirit was infectious, igniting that part of him as he hopped to his feet and pulled her up. “We’re gonna fight,” he yelled. “Straight to the end zone for the touchdown.”

* * *

Scarlett’s throat tightened when she saw all the parked cars. It seemed the entire town had come out for the press conference. There were even several news media vans. She glanced at Rigby and saw his jaw tense. “It’ll be okay,” she assured him. “I promise not to leave your side.” She winked. “And you might just win the day, after all.”

He cocked his head. “What do you mean?”

She only smiled. “You’ll see. Come on, let’s go get ‘em.”

A throng of reporters swarmed them when they parked. Rigby got out and fought his way through them to open her door, then they huddled together as they walked up the steps to the town hall, reporters shoving microphones in their faces and bombarding them with questions.

Unfortunately, inside wasn’t much better. It was a packed house, standing room only. All eyes turned to them as they made their way through the crowd and stood near the front, along the wall. Vernon was sitting on the front row, and Scarlett caught the startled look on his face when he saw her with Rigby. She felt the muscles in Rigby’s arm flex, and followed his trail of vision to the reporter sitting in a club chair. The stage had been arranged in a living room style with two chairs facing each other and a coffee table in the center. Scarlett recognized the reporter as Miles Devlin. When he saw Rigby, he tipped his head in a surly nod. Scarlett tightened her hold on Rigby’s arm as she glared at the hateful reporter. No wonder Rigby detested the man. He reeked of animosity.

Scarlett caught sight of Coralee sitting two rows from the front. When she saw Scarlett, she gave her a nod of approval that spoke volumes. Emotion clogged Scarlett’s throat as a look passed between them. Coralee was proud Scarlett was standing by Rigby’s side. Unexpected warmth flowed through Scarlett, and she got the feeling things were coming full circle.

A hush went through the crowd when Mayor Tate came through the back, her grandpa at his side. The Mayor helped Grandpa get seated in the chair across from the reporter. The Mayor’s assistant handed him a microphone. Mayor Tate cleared his throat and began, “Ladies and Gentlemen, thanks for coming out today. We’re honored to have Miles Devlin here, and Douglas Foster who will hopefully shed light on the events which transpired the day of the fire.”

A tech guy rushed forward and placed tiny microphones on Miles and Douglas, then gave the nod to continue.

“I’ll now turn the floor over to the two of you,” the Mayor said, giving Rigby a solemn look.

This whole charade made Scarlett sick to her stomach. How quickly the townsfolk had turned on Rigby, all for the sake of publicity. That was the nature of fame … very fleeting. She glanced at Rigby who was standing beside her, erect and stone-faced.

A friendly smile spread over Miles’s lips as he crossed his legs. “Douglas … may I call you that?”

Douglas nodded in the affirmative.

“I appreciate you taking the time to do this interview with me,” Miles said, looking into the nearby camera.

He reminded Scarlett of a preening peacock.

He motioned at Douglas’s leg. “How are you doing?” He let out a deprecating chuckle as he glanced in Rigby’s direction.

“Well, I’m getting by, I suppose,” Douglas said.

“Would you care to tell us what happened on the day of the fire? … in your own words.” Miles clasped his hands together, making a steeple with his fingers bringing them to his chin, a thoughtful pose on his pretty face. “Take all the time you need.”

“I was frying potatoes. I went to the restroom, and when I came back the kitchen was on fire.”

A visible shudder went through Miles. “That sounds scary.”

“It was. I went to my bedroom to call 911, but smoke was pouring through the house. I lost consciousness. The next thing I knew, I was outside. The firemen and paramedics were there. They placed an oxygen mask over my face, put me on a stretcher, and took me to the hospital.”

Miles shook his head, his expression one of solemnity, but Scarlett could tell he was milking this for all it was worth, setting the stage to go in for the kill. “A horrible experience. And your house was mostly destroyed, is that correct?”

Douglas swallowed. “Yes.”

Her grandfather was the picture of dignity with his silver hair and olive-toned skin. Scarlett took in a deep breath, waiting for the rest.

Miles paused, tilting his head thoughtfully. “I understand you filed a personal injury lawsuit against Rocket Breeland.”

“Yes,” Douglas said.

A murmur ran through the crowd.

Miles pursed his lips. “Can you tell us why?”

The cocky expression on Miles Devlin’s face evoked a fury in Scarlett she could scarcely contain. No wonder Rigby had lost his temper and socked the man. It took all the intestinal fortitude she could muster not to run up and claw his eyes out.

Douglas shifted in his seat. His eyes scoped the crowd, settling on Scarlett. “Because I was scared.”

Miles jerked, his eyes widening. “Excuse me?”

“I was scared,” Douglas repeated. “I was afraid of losing Scarlett.”

Miles pulled at his shirt collar. “I don’t understand.”

Not so cocky now, are you? Scarlett wanted to yell. She looked at her grandpa, nodding for him to continue.

He cleared his throat. “From the time she was a little girl, Scarlett has loved Rigby Breeland.”

Murmurs rustled through the crowd as all eyes shifted to Scarlett and Rigby. Scarlett smiled and waved. “What’s going on here?” Rigby asked quietly.

She winked. “Just wait. We’re going for a touchdown.”

“I felt threatened by Rigby,” Douglas continued. “I was afraid he’d take her away from me.” He coughed, clearing his throat. “I never should’ve filed that lawsuit.” He glowered at Vernon. “I put my trust in the wrong person. He was looking after his own agenda. I won’t make that mistake again.”

All eyes turned to Vernon, as his face went an ugly red.

“Is Douglas talking about Vernon Stanley?” Scarlett heard someone say.

Miles regained control of the floor. “So, you’re saying you’re not suing Rocket Breeland?”

“No, I’m not,” Douglas said loudly. “On the contrary, I came here today to thank Rigby for saving my life.”

Rigby let out an audible sigh of relief.

Douglas zeroed in on Rigby. “Son, I owe you a tremendous apology. I’m very sorry for the way I treated you. You didn’t deserve it.”

Rigby nodded. “Thanks,” he squeaked, and Scarlett could tell from the way his jaw was working he was trying to control his emotion. Tears brimmed in her eyes and bubbled over, but she didn’t try to stop them.

Miles shot Rigby a look of pure hatred. “This is totally unacceptable,” he barked, glaring at Douglas. “You promised me a story. I came all the way from Tampa.”

Douglas reached for his crutches and placed them under each arm as he pulled himself up. “You’ve got your story, sonny. Rigby Breeland’s a hero. He went into a burning house with no thought for himself and saved me.” He looked at Coralee. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a very large apology that I need to give to that beautiful lady over yonder on the second row.” His voice caught. “I’m sorry, Coralee, for everything.”

She nodded, her hand going to her chest.

Rigby turned to Scarlett. “Are those two really together?”

She laughed through her tears. “It certainly seems that way.”

He shook his head, groaning. “Heaven help us.”

A burst of joy filled Scarlett’s breast. “Indeed.”

Harper came trotting across the stage, high heels and all, a large smile on her red lips as she lifted a microphone to her mouth. “Folks, stick around. We have complimentary slices of the pie Rocket Breeland paid ten thousand dollars for, brought to you by The Magnolia restaurant. And for all you reporters who don’t know what I’m talking about, come and talk to me afterwards, and I’ll give y’all an exclusive interview.” She brought her hand to her mouth and blew Scarlett and Rigby a kiss. “This is what you call a happy ending, folks. Let’s give Scarlett and Rigby a big round of applause.”

Everyone stood as a deafening applause filled the room.

Scarlett shook her head. “Only Harper could manage to turn this thing into a promo event for the restaurant.”

Rigby turned to her, a lopsided grin tugging at his lips. “You knew before we came what your grandpa was going to say, didn’t you?”

She shrugged. “I might’ve had a hint.”

He clucked his tongue. “You’re good,” he drawled, “at dangling that carrot.”

“What can I say? I learned from the master.”

His blue eyes sparked with mischief. “So … should we give ‘em something else to talk about?” he murmured, pulling her into his arms.

Desire wicked through her as she chuckled. “Don’t you wanna eat a slice of the pie you paid an obscene fortune for?”

He scrunched his nose. “Nah, I have my dessert right here,” he said, covering her lips with his.