I dumped my contribution to dinner—one of those large bagged salad kits— into a mixing bowl on the island. I could smell the sizzle of steaks on the grill out on the deck, hear the murmur of conversation. We’d invited the Bodines over for a cookout. Even Gibson had reluctantly come. Scarlett wasn’t here yet. She’d been called in to help a plumber friend handle a drainage emergency at a rental property.

Gibson and Scarlett had yet to patch things up, and I hoped that a cookout on neutral ground would pave the way.

I heard a car in the driveway and felt my heart lift. Just the anticipation of seeing Scarlett made me happy. Ever since our trip to Annapolis, I’d been thinking seriously about the future, and I knew one thing. I wanted Scarlett in mine.

I heard the knock at the front door and frowned. Scarlett wasn’t a knocker. None of the Bodines were. They either pushed right through your unlocked doors or made themselves at home in your yard and on your deck. It was the Bootleg way.

Maybe it was Millie Waggle with another delectable baked good. The woman could perform miracles with flour and cocoa. I think she had a secret crush on Jonah, and I was happy to encourage it if it meant I got to enjoy homemade pies and sticky buns and cookies.

I wiped my hands on the dishtowel, shoved the salad into the fridge, and headed toward the front of the house.

It was not Millie Waggle standing on my doorstep. It was Johanna.

I blinked, not believing my eyes. It had been long enough since I’d seen her last. I’d already forgotten little details about her. The beauty mark at the side of her mouth. The pearly pink lipstick she was never without, even though I’d preferred to kiss her without it.

She was tall and slim, bordering on too thin, I realized. She exercised ruthlessly and managed her diet with the focus of a general at war. Her blonde hair was swept back into a low roll at the base of her neck. She wore a sleeveless sheath dress in dove gray and a string of pearls around her neck that matched the studs in her ears. It was her “casual” wardrobe.

“What are you doing here?” I demanded, not quite trusting my voice. The woman before me had once shared my life, my bed, my goals. Now, she was a stranger.

“Devlin,” she said with a soft smile. “So good to see you. I’d like to come in.”

“I have company,” I told her. My brain was still shocked at seeing her on my doorstep and didn’t form the “get the hell out” that I felt she deserved.

She cocked her head to the side, still smiling wanly. “It’s important,” she insisted.

I should have slammed the damn door in her damn face and joined the party on the deck, but decades of etiquette training and social graces wouldn’t let me. I held the door open, and she walked inside.

“Such a quaint home,” she said brightly. I followed her back the hallway to the living room. The deck doors were open, and music and laughter spilled inside.

Johanna turned away from the view and the fun outside and faced me, lacing her fingers together in front of her. “You’ve been avoiding me,” she stated.

“I have.” I didn’t see a reason to lie or make her feel more comfortable with the situation. “Most men do that when it comes to their ex-wives.”

“The divorce isn’t final yet,” Johanna pointed out. “And that’s what I’d like to talk to you about.”

“Believe me, if there were anything I could do to speed the process along, I would have,” I snapped.

“I want to call it off. I want you to give us another try.”

Baffled, I stared at her. “What about Ralston?” I demanded.

“He was a... poor choice. A mistake which I deeply regret.”

“And so you thought you’d just come back, and we could pick back up where we left off.”

Her cheeks flushed slightly, but it was the only show of emotion. “Quite frankly, yes. I’ve known for some time that I hadn’t made the right choice. I hurt you deeply, embarrassed you. And, for that, I’m sorry.”

She was speaking Klingon or Portuguese because I wasn’t comprehending a word she was saying. Nothing made sense.

“I don’t think I’m understanding. Why would I ever take you back?”

“We make sense, Devlin. Together, we make a very good team. If we get back together, this whole scandal goes away. I understand it will take some time before you can trust me, but I promise to be a good partner. The right partner.”

It was becoming clear through the fog in my brain. “You’re here because of Scarlett.”

“I wanted to give you some time to clear your head and possibly even forgive me. But I didn’t expect you to move on so quickly or with someone so… unsuited.”

“You sound like my mother.”

“Your mother is justifiably concerned. If you get re-elected, you have a very real shot at Congress in a handful of years, and from there, who knows where we could go. It’s your dream, and I can help you make that happen,” she insisted calmly.

“All I have to do is take you back?” I asked bitterly.

She nodded, looking hopeful. “We can find a new house together. It might even be fun.”

“Why is Ralston suddenly a mistake? Did he move on to someone else already?”

I saw the shadow in her eyes and knew my accusation had hit its mark.

“I see,” I said quietly.

“I made a mistake,” she pleaded.

I shook my head. “No. You didn’t.”

“And just what the hell is this?” a sweet voice drawled with Southern charm. Scarlett stood with her hands on her hips just above her tool belt. She wore jeans and a Bootleg Cockspurs tank top.

“This is Scarlett?” Johanna asked, aghast.

“Oh, you must be the lying, cheating, piece of garbage ex-wife. Bless your heart,” Scarlett said, batting her lashes.

Oh, shit.

The music stopped on the deck, and the door darkened with frames of four men all watching in rapt attention.

“Who’s that?” Gibson hissed.

“How the hell should I know?” Bowie whispered back. “I know all the same people you know.”

“Guessing she’s the ex,” Jonah added.

Jameson grunted.

If Scarlett noticed the audience, she didn’t care.

“Now what would a disgraced ex-wife be doing at her ex-husband’s lookin’ all pretty in her pearls?” she mused, tapping a finger to her chin. “Did you come to renegotiate the divorce? Are you here to lay claim to the Crock-pot and the fine china?”

Johanna had gotten both of those in the divorce.

“I’m saving my marriage,” Johanna said icily.

“Like hell you are,” Scarlett announced. She was pure fire to Johanna’s ice. She was magnificent.

“You’re obviously not feeling like yourself,” Johanna said, addressing her comment to me and dismissing Scarlett. “And I take ownership of my part in that. I was the one that sent you into a tailspin, but Devlin, you can’t accomplish all you’re meant to do with her by your side.”

“At least he doesn’t have to worry about me soliciting dick all the time,” Scarlett shot back.

I heard snickers from the deck. Johanna’s mouth dropped open. I doubted that she’d ever heard anything so crass before in her entire life.

“I beg your pardon. You’re a child and an ignorant one at that. You couldn’t possibly understand the kind of partner that Devlin needs.”

“He doesn’t need a fucking partner,” Scarlett enunciated. “He needs a best friend. Someone who will have his back, not end up on hers under someone else.”

Her brothers were howling with laughter behind me, and I inched my way toward them. I needed to put myself between Scarlett and Johanna, but I wasn’t sure if I could count on any of them for backup.

“You need to leave,” Johanna announced. “You need to leave so I can talk to my husband.”

“Oh, hell no,” Scarlett said, crossing her arms in front of her chest. Johanna had six inches in height on her, but Scarlett had a good fifteen pounds of muscle in her favor. She also had a hammer and a few screwdrivers in her tool belt. “In fact, I think it’s time you left. You have to the count of three to get your non-existent ass out of this house.”

Johanna sputtered. “I’m not leaving. This is Devlin’s house, and I am welcome in it as long as he says I am!”

“Oh, are you?” Scarlett drawled. “Devlin?”

“Devlin?” Johanna glared at me, willing me to choose her.

I wanted to calm things down. “Let’s just take a step back—”

The Bodines groaned behind me, and I knew immediately I’d made a huge mistake.

Scarlett’s eyes narrowed at me. “Not good enough, McCallister.”

“Johanna, I think you should leave,” I said calmly.

Scarlett bared her teeth, and I knew it was too little too late.

“Devlin, I feel like we should continue this discussion—”

“Get out of this house now!” Scarlett shrieked. She took a threatening step toward Johanna who hopped behind the wingback armchair. “Take your skinny, cheating ass all the way back to Annapolis and find someone else to fuck over! And if I ever see your face around Bootleg again—”

She was reaching for her hammer, trying to wrestle it free. The sliding screen door imploded behind me as four bodies shoved their way through it. Gibson dove for Scarlett while Jameson and Bowie ushered Johanna down the hall toward the front door. Jonah blocked Scarlett’s attempt to chase her down, and I stood there wondering what in the hell had just happened.

“Get her out of here!” Scarlett yelled at the top of her lungs. “If she comes near Devlin again, I am shoving her in Rocky Tobias’s septic tank!” Gibson wrestled her to the ground and sat on her. Jonah jogged down the hallway to the front door. I could hear raised voices outside before he closed it.

I couldn’t quite comprehend what had just happened. All I knew is that the squirming ball of fury on my grandmother’s living room rug cared more about me than any appearance or any plan. She wanted to protect me when no one else in my family or circle of friends had been willing to.

I loved Scarlett Bodine. She might not know it yet, but she sure as hell loved me back.

Jameson and Bowie returned to the living room where Scarlett was swearing a blue streak.

“When I let her up, she’s gonna try to kill you,” Gibson predicted.

“Me?”

“You invited your ex-wife into your house. The woman who treated you like dog shit. You don’t play nice with that,” Bowie explained.

“Unless of course you’re hoping to get back together with her,” Jameson added.

Scarlett stilled and glared at me. “Devlin McCallister, if you even think for one second of getting back together with that frosty, pearl-wearing beanpole, I will hold you down, shave your head, and... and...”

She was so mad she couldn’t even string together an insult.

“I’m not getting back together with her, Scarlett. I’m with you.” I probably should have chosen a less exasperated tone because she was now snarling into the carpet.

“Where’s your self-respect, man?” Gibson demanded.

“Fuck self-respect. Where’s his survival instinct?” Bowie wondered.

I shoved my hands into my hair. “I don’t even know what’s happening. Why is everyone mad at me?”

“Because you’re an idiot,” the Bodine men said together.

“I’m letting her up,” Gibson decided. “He needs some sense knocked into him.”

He slid off of Scarlett, and she jumped to her feet. “What the hell is wrong with you?” she demanded, shoving her finger in my face.

“I’m not really sure. Maybe you could help me figure it out?” I suggested.

She let out a groan of frustration and took the throw pillow off the couch and hurled it into the kitchen.

“On that note...” Jameson headed for the door.

“Why don’t we take the steaks and eat them anywhere but here,” Jonah suggested.

“Good luck,” Bowie said, clapping a hand on my back.

They disappeared through the trampled screen door, leaving me and the seething Scarlett alone.