Chapter 1

Allison Davies Collins zipped the last of her suitcases, swallowing over a brief wave of nausea.

She was now surrounded by packed luggage and a few taped boxes, all she had to show for eight years of her life.

She was taking her clothes, shoes, and handbags—as well as her jewelry-making materials. She was leaving her precious jewelry, her car, and all of the furniture. Arthur could sell those. They were worth a lot of money, and they were his.

He’d bought her wardrobe too, but there was nothing much he could do with that now—so she was taking it with her when she walked out on him. What she’d heard at the cocktail party last night had been the last straw, making it brutally clear that she couldn’t stay his wife any longer.

He’d be home in about an hour, so she needed to get her belongings out of here right now.

After she’d called her best friend in tears this morning, Vicki had hired a couple of guys to help her move the boxes and luggage. Allison walked into the beautifully decorated living room and told the movers, “You can go ahead and bring this stuff down now.”

She stood out of the way as they carried her cases and boxes to the private elevator. She and Arthur had lived in the penthouse unit of an exclusive high-rise in downtown Charlotte for six years, but after today it wouldn’t be her home anymore.

In thirty minutes the guys had loaded up all her stuff and were driving it over to Vicki’s.

Allison was alone now. As tempting as it was to just call Arthur instead of talking face-to-face, that seemed cheap and cowardly to her. He’d never abused her. She wasn’t in danger from him. She’d been married to the man for eight years.

She could tell him she was leaving in person.

She felt sicker and sicker as she waited for his arrival. Arthur wouldn’t be expecting this. He thought she was under his thumb, willing to go along with whatever he wanted. After all, he’d rescued her when she was eighteen years old and her parents had declared bankruptcy after losing their entire fortune in some very bad investments. Her choices had been to try to work her way through an inexpensive college or to maintain the privileged lifestyle she’d been raised in, keep her friends and her social circle, and marry forty-five-year-old Arthur Collins.

She’d married Arthur. He was an investment banker and had been a friend of her father’s. He’d just started showing interest in her when her parents lost their money. He was attractive enough—smooth and sophisticated and successful—and she’d been very young and terrified of her life changing so much.

She’d wanted to date him, and he could be charming when he wanted to be. They’d been married three months later. She’d been an eighteen-year-old trophy wife to a rich older man. She’d thought she could live with it.

The marriage had been fine in the beginning, but it had slowly declined until she couldn’t live with it anymore. Pretty soon, if she stayed, she would start to anesthetize her deep unhappiness with alcohol or prescription drugs.

Today was the day. Today she was leaving—even knowing the consequences.

In an attempt to distract herself from her anxiety, she walked into the small room she’d turned into a workshop for making jewelry. Arthur had complained for weeks about the transformation, but he’d consoled himself with the fact that at least he wouldn’t be stepping on tiny stones or snips of wire all the time. The room was empty now, except for a chair, a worktable, and one shelf of the unit against the wall, on which were the stones, metals, and tools that were too expensive for her to take with her.

She’d gone to a jewelry-making seminar when she was twenty, and she’d kept on learning as much as she could. She was good now, and she had an eye for design, but Arthur had hated the time she’d spent on it. Eventually she’d told all her friends to give her materials and tools as gifts for Christmases and birthdays so Arthur wouldn’t have to pay for them.

One day she was going to open a little jewelry shop in Charlotte. She had the neighborhood picked out and the design of the interior. The dream of that shop was the only thing that had sustained her for the last year, keeping her going when she’d wanted to give up completely.

When she heard Arthur coming in the front door, her throat closed up, so she momentarily couldn’t breathe. She willed her body to relax and her lungs to take in air, and eventually she could turn around and walk down the hall.

Arthur was pouring himself a glass of scotch at the bar in the living room when she walked in, as he always did when he came home. He was still attractive—distinguished, with silvering hair, broad shoulders, and an air of authority. He arched his eyebrows when he saw her. “We’re going to dinner tonight. Did you forget? You can’t wear that.”

She wore a light cashmere sweater, leggings, and soft leather boots. Her face was carefully made up, as it always was, and her dark brown hair was pulled back in a loose braid. But he still looked at her like she was dressed in denim overalls. “I’m not going out. I’m leaving.”

Very slowly he set his glass on a polished antique side table. “You’re not pouting again, are you? I thought you’d gotten past that.”

Pouting. That was what he had always called any attempt of hers to address their relationship or express her unhappiness.

“I’m leaving,” she said again. “For good.”

This time he understood what she was saying, but instead of getting angry or outraged, he actually smiled. “No, you’re not. If you leave now, you’ll get nothing from me. There’s no getting around our prenup. You’re not that stupid.”

“I don’t care about the prenup. I am leaving. I’ve packed my clothes and jewelry materials, but that’s all I’m taking with me. I know you paid for those too, though, so if you want me to leave them, I can bring them back.”

“I don’t want your damned clothes, and I don’t appreciate childish stunts like this. Is this about college again? I let you take classes.”

Very reluctantly he’d agreed she could start taking college classes last year—only online and only one at a time so it wouldn’t get in the way of what he considered her real responsibilities. He didn’t want his wife to be walking around a college campus with books and a notebook like an ordinary girl. Despite his deep snobbery, it didn’t bother him that she didn’t have a higher education. In fact, she was pretty sure he preferred it, since it kept her more dependent on him.

When she didn’t answer, he continued, “Or is this about your jewelry nonsense? I’ve let you fill our home with all that clutter. Surely you don’t expect me to throw away money by funding that fanciful business plan of—”

“It’s not about any one thing,” she interrupted, even though she knew he hated when she did that. She’d cried so much over the years about his absolute dismissal of any interest or passion of hers that she was numb now to all of it. “I just can’t do this anymore. I’ve tried. And tried. And tried. But nothing changes. I’m just so tired of being nothing but young and gorgeous and vulnerable and completely dependent.”

Those were the words Arthur had used to a business associate of his at the party last night. He’d thought she was still in the bathroom when she’d overheard him say it in that pompous, teasing tone he used when he was trying to be affable. I highly recommend a wife. Just make sure she’s young, gorgeous, vulnerable, and completely dependent. It’s the best thing I’ve ever done.

Allison had been about to turn a corner to rejoin him and had heard him. She’d stood frozen for a long time, the world shuddering around her as she realized that Arthur’s words were perfectly true. That was what she was. It was all she was. And none of her attempts over the past few years to change it had done any good at all.

So she was changing it now.

“Don’t be foolish,” Arthur said, after his expression changed as he realized what she’d overheard. “I was just making a connection with him. You have no idea what it’s like in business. You say things you don’t mean, simply because the other person wants to hear them.”

“Oh, I know exactly what it’s like to say what someone else wants to hear.” Her voice was getting rough, but she didn’t clear her throat. She didn’t want to show Arthur any weakness. “I’ve done it for years, and I refuse to do it anymore.”

“Yes, I can imagine how exhausting it is to spend your days doing nothing and have a husband buy you everything you want.” His voice snapped with sarcasm, although he didn’t raise his voice. He never raised his voice. He never openly displayed anger at all except through this kind of biting sarcasm.

“Things you can buy are not what I want. I’ve been trying to tell you this for more than two years now. I need to…to feel like a real human being and not like a pretty possession of yours.” Despite her exhaustion and numbness, she heard her voice break with a tremor of emotion. “I’m tired of always tiptoeing around your moods but never getting to express feelings of my own. I’m tired of this constant anxiety about gaining even a pound because you don’t want a wife who’s too fat. I’m tired of not being free to decide to go to college or to get a job or do anything I might want to do on my own, since that doesn’t fit your image of a wife. I’m tired of forcing myself to have sex, even when I really don’t want to, because you get to decide when we do it. I’m tired of it, and it’s never going to change.”

“So in this fiction you’ve concocted, I’m the monster who dehumanizes you, and you’re the innocent victim who had no idea what she was signing up for in this marriage.”

“No. I’m not blaming you. I knew what I was getting into when I married you. I thought it was what I wanted, but it isn’t. It’s not your fault. You haven’t changed. But I have. This isn’t what I want anymore, and it’s obvious that it’s never going to be. That’s why I’m leaving.”

Her words must have gotten through to him because his impatient expression transformed to something very cold. “You can leave if you want. I won’t stop you. But don’t delude yourself into thinking you can get around the prenup. You came into this marriage with nothing, and that’s what you’re going to leave with. It’s your decision to go, and it hasn’t been ten years yet.”

“I know that. I’m not expecting any sort of money from you.”

“How do you expect to make it, then? You have no money, no skills, no education, no ability to support yourself. You’ll just end up dependent on another man.”

“No, I won’t.”

“You think this is some great statement of independence for you, but you’re never going to make it. You’re soft, Allison. You’re not going to be able to do this on your own.”

“Maybe not,” she admitted, close to tears—but not tears of grief. “But I’m going to try anyway.”

He shook his head in clear disbelief, giving a soft, sardonic chuckle that was as demeaning a response as she could imagine.

It didn’t matter. She’d faced him. She’d told him the truth. She’d at least had enough courage to do that.

And now she could finally walk away.

Allison stared down at the signed and returned copy of her divorce papers. “I can’t believe it’s really over.”

Vicki was pouring merlot into two glasses. “You’re happy, aren’t you? I mean, everything went pretty smoothly. It’s only been six months since you walked out on him. That’s incredibly quick.”

“Yeah.” Allison sighed and accepted the wineglass. She and Vicki were sitting on stools at the marble bar in Vicki’s sleek, stylish kitchen, where they’d sat to talk a lot over the last several months. “It’s just that now I really have to get started with my life, and I’m not any clearer about how to do that than I was in the beginning.”

“You can always stay here, you know. As long as you want.” Vicki was thirty—four years older than Allison—and she was married to a rich older man too. Her marriage, however, actually seemed to be a happy one.

“I know. I really appreciate it, but I’m sure Russ is getting tired of always having me around.”

“No, he’s really—”

“Seriously, Vicki, you have no idea how grateful I am for you being here for me these last six months and letting me stay here while I…I recover from my marriage. But the renters are out of my grandmother’s house now, so I can go ahead and move in. And I feel like I’m ready to stand on my own feet. I’ve got to get started on building a life for myself, or I’ll always be dependent on someone else.”

The other day she’d walked into Vicki and Russ’s huge, luxurious apartment, and it had felt like home. Except it wasn’t her home, and she’d suddenly realized she needed to get out before her dream of independence blew away like so much smoke.

Being a helpless friend might be better than being a trophy wife, but Allison wanted to be more than that. She’d been hanging around doing nothing for too long, and she was getting comfortable with it.

She didn’t want to be comfortable. She wanted to live a life that was really hers.

“I understand.” Vicki had lovely auburn hair and the tall, slim figure of a model. Allison knew that Arthur had always wished she were built more like Vicki. “I just wish your parents’ house wasn’t so far away from Charlotte.”

“It’s just an hour or so away. We’ll be able to get together plenty.”

After her parents had lost their money, they’d moved into the house Allison’s grandmother owned in a small town in the mountains. Her parents had had Allison late in their lives—a surprise baby when her mother was in her late forties—and the stress of the bankruptcy had destroyed their health. Her father had died of a heart attack, and her mother had just sort of dwindled away afterward, dying about a year ago. All they’d left her was the house, the furnishings, and an old car. When her mother had died, Allison had started to rent out the house, hoping for a little money that she could use at her own discretion, but the year’s lease was finally up, and now she needed to actually move into the house.

At least she had a place to live, rent free. There was no way she could get a job that paid enough to afford rent in Charlotte, at least not in the neighborhoods she was used to. Better to start from scratch in a completely different town. She had a house and a car fully paid for and about twenty thousand dollars that Arthur had given her as a gesture in the divorce so he wouldn’t feel like a complete monster. Surely she could find a job that would cover her living expenses.

“I’ll miss you, though,” Vicki said, slumping against the counter. She’d just had her hair done, and it was even redder and shinier than ever.

Allison hadn’t had her hair done since she’d walked out on Arthur, although she and Vicki had regularly gotten manicures, since Vicki insisted they were a basic life necessity.

“I’ll miss you too. Hopefully I’ll be too busy finding a job and trying to work for the first time in my life to get too depressed, though.”

“I still think you could have fought for more in the divorce proceedings. Arthur owes you more than that pittance after eight years of marriage, especially since he wouldn’t let you go to college or build a career.”

“No. Arthur wanted me to fight, so he could fight back and win. That prenup was airtight, and I just don’t want to beg Arthur for money anyway. I’m going to do this on my own.”

“And you’re sure you need to go right now? Don’t you think it would be better to wait a few weeks until you actually find a job?”

“I’m sure I can find something. I told you I called that dentist’s office in Fielding. They want me to come by first thing on Monday morning about the receptionist job. I think that’s a job I could do.”

“I’m sure you could, but what if you don’t get it?” Vicki’s expression was torn in a way that made clear she was worried but trying to be encouraging. “You said that was the only job advertised in the area.”

“Yes, but when I called the town about my water bill, the woman said that most of the local jobs are advertised in the newspaper, not online.” Allison smiled, nervous but hopeful at the same time. “People find jobs all the time. I’m sure I can find something.”

“Okay. If this is what you want to do, then I’ll totally support you. But if you can’t find a job, you have to promise me you’ll move back here.”

“I will.” Allison said that, but she had absolutely no intention of moving back. That would be a defeat, and she wasn’t going to let it happen.

“Well, it’s going to be an adventure for you. That’s for sure. Maybe you’ll find a sexy small-town guy to keep you company.”

“Right,” Allison replied, rolling her eyes.

“I’m serious. You’re absolutely gorgeous. Guys will be knocking each other out trying to get to you.”

“I somehow doubt this town is going to be crawling with good-looking, eligible men. The few times I’ve been there, all the men I saw were grizzled or had potbellies or were reeking with cigarette smoke.”

“I’m sure there’s a few good-looking specimens to be found. What about a sexy sheriff or a hot ex-SEAL who has come back home to take over his father’s contracting business?”

“You’ve been reading too many romances,” Allison said, still laughing but feeling a lot more encouraged. “I’m just going to spend a transition period there—only a year or two, hopefully—so any relationship I had would have to be temporary anyway. I’m not looking for the love of my life. All I want to do is support myself for a while so I can figure out what I really want to do and be. I’m not sure I even want a man later on, when I’m able to move back to the city. Not anytime soon, anyway.”

“Are you sure? Because Russ has a friend. He’s a criminal defense attorney in town, and he’s—”

“No, please. I don’t want another man to support me. I don’t want to be another trophy, dependent and not valued for who I really am. I want to…find out who I am, on my own. Once that happens, then maybe one day I can even open my jewelry shop.”

Vicki’s smile faded slightly. “I really hope so. It’s great to have a dream. But you can do other things with your jewelry right now, you know. Why don’t you start selling it online? The shop is going to take a lot of money, so—”

“I know,” Allison interrupted, with that quick flash of fear and grief she always experienced when she let herself see how unrealistic her dream really was. “I know it’s not likely to ever happen, but I’m allowed to dream, aren’t I?”

“Of course you are.” Vicki reached over to pat Allison’s hand. “Of course you are. I know that dream kept you going for a long time. You don’t have to give it up.”

Allison sighed and rubbed her face. “I know I’ll have to figure out what to do with my jewelry eventually, but it’s too much for me to think about right now. It’s hard enough to do even normal things on my own. It sounds stupid, I know, but I was so stressed out yesterday, just making all those calls about my utilities. I’ve never done anything like that before. The first thing I need to do is learn how to live on my own. Then I’ll have time to figure out everything else.”

“That sounds like a good plan.”

“I know you think I need a more detailed plan for my life, but the only thing I need right now is to feel like I can be independent, that I can really stand on my own.”

Vicki nodded. “All right. If it takes moving to this hick town for you to do it, then I’ll support you. I’d never be brave enough to do it myself. Are you excited?”

Allison finished her wine and let out a long breath. “The truth is I’m absolutely terrified, but I’m going to do it anyway.”

Her grandmother’s house was a three-bedroom brick ranch on an acre of property in Fielding, North Carolina, population five thousand.

Vicki had hired a car service to drive Allison and her possessions to the house the following day, something Allison greatly appreciated, since she didn’t want to start eating into her meager savings already.

She’d never known her grandmother very well—only seeing her maybe once every two years, since there had been some sort of big blowup between her father and grandmother before she was born—but Allison still felt a wave of nostalgia as she walked into the house. The house smelled like her grandmother and like her parents in their last few years. She missed them.

She didn’t have any family left alive. She wondered what it would feel like to have someone other than a friend to rely on now.

She brushed the thought away as she looked around the house. It opened into a dining room with a connected kitchen. The living room was to the left, and the hall with the bedrooms was to the right. The renters had cleaned it before they’d left, to get back their deposit, so it was in pretty decent shape, although the hardwood floors were worn, the kitchen was twenty years old, and the toilet in the bathroom would only occasionally stop running, which was very annoying.

The furniture her parents had left was still stored in the basement, so Allison would have to try to bring it up. Vicki would have helped by hiring some movers, but Allison needed to start taking care of things on her own.

She tried to feel hopeful as she thanked the driver for helping her bring in the luggage and signed the ticket, but what she really felt was helpless. She didn’t even have hangers to put all her clothes on, and they would never all fit into the small closets in the bedrooms.

After moving the luggage into the bedrooms and looking in the basement to see what was there, she decided she needed to go to the store and buy some basics like clothes hangers and garbage bags. There was a small grocery store in town, but the one Walmart in the county was in a town fifteen minutes away. That was probably the first thing she should do.

She had the money from Arthur as well as what she’d saved from the year’s worth of rent on this house, but it was going to disappear fast.

She had the appointment with the dentist’s office tomorrow morning at nine. She didn’t know if it was an interview or just to pick up an application, but either way she was planning to be there right on time.

Maybe that would work out. If it didn’t, she would have to find a different job. Her savings wasn’t going to last for long.

Two hours later she pulled her father’s old tank of an Oldsmobile back into her driveway. She’d tried to be careful at the store, but her trunk was filled and she’d spent way too much money.

Plus, Walmart had been packed on a Sunday.

It was four in the afternoon, and she was exhausted. It was just early May, but the air was hot and humid today, and she was sweating, even in her sleeveless top.

She was leaning over into the trunk to gather up as many bags as she could carry when she was startled by a voice behind her. “You need some help?”

She straightened up with a jerk, turning to see a man beside her wearing faded jeans and a white T-shirt. He looked to be in his thirties. He needed to shave and his brown hair was too long, and he had the rough look of a man who worked with his hands. He’d surprised her so much she just stared at him. “What?”

“Do you need some help?” he asked again, gesturing toward her trunk. “Carrying all that in?”

She frowned. Who the hell was this guy? And did she really look so helpless that she couldn’t unload her own trunk by herself? “Oh. No. I’ll be okay. Thank you.” Several bags were already hooked over her arms, so she gave him an absent smile and turned to walk up the steps to the front door.

She had some trouble getting her key into the door with the bags on her wrist, but she’d almost gotten the door unlocked when she suddenly felt someone behind her, swinging open the storm door that had been propped against her back.

She gave a little squeal of surprise as she turned to see the man she thought she’d dismissed. He had twice as many bags hooked over his arms as she was able to carry.

“I’m Rob West,” he said with a slight mountain drawl in his deep voice. “I’m your neighbor across the street.”

She felt flustered now and annoyed that a strange man was walking into her house as if she’d invited him. “Okay, but I said I could get the bags by myself.”

“I was already over here. Why shouldn’t I help?”

Because she’d said she didn’t need his help. Any basically civil person would have respected her wishes. She really hoped everyone wasn’t as rude and pushy as this man was.

“Where’s all your furniture?” Rob asked, looking around the empty house after he’d dumped his load of bags on her kitchen counter.

“It’s in the basement. I just got here today.”

He focused his gaze on her, looking her up and down. His eyes were actually quite nice—a really deep, melting brown. “Are you Chris and Sharon’s girl?”

She was startled by the question but then realized that if he lived across the street, he’d probably known her parents. “Yes.”

“I thought you lived in the city.” He glanced down at her left hand, and she realized he was looking for a wedding ring.

She’d taken off her rings six months ago. “I’m moving here now.”

He nodded slowly, as if trying to piece together her situation, something he had no business knowing. “Well, welcome to town. I’ll get the rest of your stuff.”

“I don’t need any—” she began.

He just ignored her, striding back outside as if she hadn’t spoken. Arthur had done that all the time—completely disregarded what she was trying to say. She hated it.

Rob might be a small-town, blue-collar guy, but he obviously wasn’t all that different from Arthur at heart.

He came back into the house a minute later with another huge load of bags. She couldn’t help but notice he had really good shoulders, and his biceps were very impressive, clearly visible beneath his shirtsleeves as he held the bags. He set them on the opposite counter and then turned to look at her. “That’s it from the car. Do you want me to haul some stuff up from the basement for you? You at least need a chair or two and a bed.”

“I’m fine,” she said, managing to smile although she really wanted to scowl at him. “Thank you.”

He frowned. “You can’t get it all up yourself. Do you have some guys who are coming to help?”

Now she frowned too. “I said I was fine. Thank you.”

“What are you all snippy about?” he asked, looking at her curiously.

She gave a sharp gasp of indignation at his clueless rudeness. “I’m snippy,” she bit out, “because I’ve said several times that I’m fine, and yet you refuse to listen to me.”

His expression relaxed into almost a smile, as if he’d finally figured out her mood. “Oh, I get it. I’m not some creepy asshole, so no need to worry about that. I live across the street. I knew your folks. I just figured you could use some help, especially since you’re all dressed up and everything.”

She looked down at herself in surprise. “I’m not dressed up!” She wore a sleeveless pale blue top, black capris, and sandals. The sandals had heels on them, but almost all of her shoes had heels. In terms of her wardrobe, these clothes were very casual.

He chuckled—a surprisingly pleasant sound. “Okay. If you say so.”

Allison heard a familiar sound just then—that damned toilet was running again, after she’d spent five minutes jiggling the handle before she left.

Rob must have heard the sound and seen her expression. “Sounds like it just needs a new flapper. I can look at it for you.” He actually turned around and took a step toward the bathroom.

“That’s okay,” Allison said quickly, relieved when he stopped at her words. “I’m sure I can take care of it.”

He turned to face her again, not looking like he believed her, but fortunately he didn’t argue. “There’s a hardware store in town—just a block down from Dora’s. You can get a new flapper, and they can talk you through replacing the old one.”

There was he was, assuming she’d need help again, based on nothing but her appearance. He could have no idea whether she was capable of fixing a toilet, and he shouldn’t make assumptions.

She didn’t like this guy at all. She really wanted him to leave.

She took a deep breath, making sure her voice was polite as she said, “I appreciate your help, and it was nice to meet you.”

“You really don’t mean that, do you?” he drawled, an irresistible half smile on his face.

She narrowed her eyes. “I’d like to unpack my bags now.”

“Got it,” he said, still smiling as if privately amused. “I’ll see you around.”

Finally he turned to leave. Allison was very glad to see him go, and it wasn’t because her eyes drifted down to his very nice ass as he walked away.

A couple of hours later Allison was so exhausted she could barely move.

She’d unpacked her summer clothes, leaving her winter clothes in boxes since she didn’t have room for them anyway. She’d put away all the stuff she’d bought from the store, and she’d hauled up a chair, a couple of side tables, a bed frame, and a mattress from the basement.

The bed had been the hardest. It was just a full size, not even a queen, but she’d almost killed herself getting it up the steep basement stairs by herself. But after Rob had been so patronizing about it, she had to prove to herself that she could do it on her own.

She took a long shower and put on a simple light green sundress, since she still needed to go out to get something to eat.

She’d bought a few staples from Walmart, but she didn’t have anything easy to eat because the meat and produce hadn’t looked very good there. She didn’t have the energy to make something anyway.

There was a restaurant in the small downtown section of Fielding. It was just a mile away. She’d get a sandwich there tonight and then go grocery shopping tomorrow.

She’d learned how to drive as a teenager, and Arthur had bought her a car, but she’d never driven very much, since she’d always used Arthur’s car service. She was out of practice. Plus, her father’s car was a tank, and she was very uncomfortable maneuvering it on the road.

She drove very slowly, relieved when she saw a parking space next to the restaurant that wasn’t too difficult to fit the car into.

The restaurant was called Dora’s Café, but it was really more like a diner, with several stools in front of a bar counter and two rows of booths that looked very uncomfortable. There were about ten customers in the restaurant when Allison walked in, and all of them turned to stare at her as she entered.

Maybe it was only a natural observation of who had just entered. Maybe it wasn’t as blatant as it felt. But she was very self-conscious as she walked up to the counter. They were watching her like she was some kind of freak or alien.

“What can I get you, honey?” a tired waitress with fake red hair asked her, pulling out a pad of paper.

No one had offered her any sort of menu. She imagined most people who ate here already knew what was available. “Do you have a club sandwich?” she asked, trying to think of something most restaurants served.

“Sure thing. White or wheat?”

“Wheat. Thank you. And I’ll take it to go, please.” Allison had been thinking about eating in the restaurant, just to get out of the house, but with so many people looking at her, she decided she’d enjoy her meal more by herself.

She perched on a stool at the counter and tried to avoid the eyes of the large man beside her in the dirty T-shirt and camouflage ball cap.

“You lost, sweetheart?” he asked after a minute of staring at her.

She cleared her throat and gave him a small smile without meeting his eyes. “No. I’m not. Thank you.”

“You just passing through, then?”

He obviously didn’t think she looked like she belonged in this town. He was right. At the moment, she had a comfortable dress on, with her hair pulled back in a low ponytail and no jewelry on and very little makeup. Arthur would have thought her barely appropriate to be seen in public like this, but she felt way overdressed compared to everyone else in the diner. “No,” she said quietly, looking down at the counter. “I’m not.”

“She’s Chris and Sharon’s girl,” a familiar voice said from farther down the counter. “Helen Davies’s granddaughter.”

Allison sucked in a breath and leaned over far enough to see Rob sitting four stools down, finishing off what looked like a hamburger.

Great. Just her luck. She couldn’t get away from him.

“Oh yeah?” the greasy guy next to her said. “You selling their house?”

“No. I’m moving in.” She didn’t like to share her business with strangers—and the entire restaurant appeared to be listening—but she was going to live in this town and she didn’t want to alienate everyone immediately. They were probably already predisposed to assume she was some kind of city snob.

Maybe she was.

“No kidding!” The guy leaned over to look at Rob. “So you got a pretty new neighbor, West? How come you get all the luck?”

When Rob didn’t answer, Allison couldn’t help but look over at him, although she’d been trying to ignore him.

He’d stood up and was swallowing the last of his water. After he’d put the glass down, he pulled out a billfold and laid a twenty on the counter without waiting for change.

He gave the man next to him a soft punch on the shoulder and then gave Allison a polite nod, with just a hint of a smile still on his lips, as if he were still a little amused by her unwillingness to let him help earlier. “See y’all later,” he said.

Allison wasn’t exactly sure who he was talking to. Maybe it was everyone, since nearly everyone in the room either mumbled or called out a farewell.

Either everyone knew everyone else in this town, or else everyone knew Rob.

He eased out the door with a relaxed swagger that showed he was comfortable in this place and in his own skin.

Allison was not comfortable. She hoped her sandwich would be done soon so she could get back to the privacy of her home.

She didn’t regret divorcing Arthur. In fact, it was the best thing she’d ever done. But she couldn’t help but wonder if she’d made a mistake by moving to this rural town.

She wasn’t likely to ever fit in here.

Fifteen minutes later Rob West was leaning against his pickup truck, talking to his friend Keith, whom he’d run into on leaving Dora’s.

He and Keith had gone through school together, and they’d married in the same month, when they’d both been eighteen. But while Keith’s marriage had worked out and produced four kids, Rob’s had fallen apart within four years. Then his second marriage had imploded two years ago. Fortunately he’d not had any kids of his own to deal with the fallout, although his former stepdaughter was more than enough.

Keith obviously knew something about marriage that Rob didn’t.

“Are you even listening to me?” Keith asked, blowing out a long puff of smoke from his cigarette.

Rob hadn’t been listening. He’d been thinking about a beautiful pair of brown eyes and a very fine, shapely body. “Not really.”

“Dee causing more problems?” Keith asked, his eyes focused on the cars that occasionally drove down Main Street.

“Nah. Not thinking about her. Thank God.” Dee was Rob’s second ex-wife. She still lived in town and was always calling him up with one sob story or another.

“One day you’re going to have to stop running to help her.”

Rob exhaled deeply. He knew it was true, but it was harder than it sounded. Dee always threw a fit if she didn’t get what she wanted, and it was easier to just help her than to put up with that kind of scene.

Besides, Rob liked to help people. He liked to be needed.

“One day,” Keith continued, as if he’d just read Rob’s mind, “you’re going to have to think through why you’re so set on helping everyone.”

There was a strangely significant timbre to the words for such a casual conversation. Rob narrowed his eyes at his friend. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Keith blew out a puff of smoke. “I don’t know.”

“It sounded like you meant something by it.”

“Don’t get huffy. I don’t even know what I meant. It was just somethin’ to say. I was—” Keith broke off as he got distracted by someone leaving Dora’s. He gave a soft whistle of appreciation.

Rob knew who he’d seen. Her name was Allison. He knew that because her folks had told him, not because she’d bothered to introduce herself. He tried not to stare as she carried her Styrofoam container down the sidewalk toward the parking lot, but he couldn’t drag his eyes away from her.

From the moment he’d seen her across the street, getting out of that Oldsmobile, he’d been mesmerized. She wasn’t just beautiful. She seemed so elegant—so different from all the girls he knew. And underneath her polished appearance was something delicate, vulnerable.

And she must have gotten divorced, since she wasn’t wearing a wedding ring anymore.

His eyes met hers as she drew nearer, and she gave him a nod without a smile. Just acknowledging his existence. Obviously not inviting any sort of acquaintance. She didn’t like him.

Rob wasn’t used to people not liking him. It was strange and frustrating.

She raised a hand to her face as she passed by then and turned her head slightly. When she was out of hearing distance, Keith muttered, “Who the hell is that?”

“She moved in across the street from me.”

“Lucky bastard.” Keith always talked like that, although everyone knew he was very happily married. “She doesn’t look too friendly, though.”

“I think the cigarette bothered her,” Rob said, wondering why he was offering an excuse for her. She probably wasn’t very friendly. She probably thought she was too good for him, for any of them, for this town. Her parents had always bragged about her, talking about the rich, important man she’d married.

There was no way in hell she would be interested in him.

Despite this self-evident conclusion, Rob found himself watching as she got into the car and drove away.

“You might as well get that look out of your eye,” Keith said, laughing.

“What look?”

“You know what look. I know all the girls in town think you’re God’s gift to shit, but you don’t have a shot in hell with that one. She’s way out of your league.”

Rob narrowed his eyes, immediately defensive, maybe because Keith had just verbalized the conclusion he’d come to himself. “You don’t know that.”

“Oh, yes, I do. She’d never go out with you.”

Rob was usually pretty easygoing, but he scowled at his friend. “I bet she would.”

He had no real reason to believe his words. He just wanted them to be true.

“Seriously? You want to bet on it?”

“No, I don’t want to bet.”

“See? Told you you couldn’t get her to go out with you.”

Rob let out a frustrated groan. “You really want to bet? On something so stupid?”

“Absolutely. A hundred bucks.” Keith was grinning now. “You’re always trying to help everyone else, so it’s time for you to start helping yourself. Or you can just admit that girl is way out of your league.”

Rob knew his friend was baiting him. He knew he shouldn’t fall for it. But he kept thinking there might be a chance that Allison could warm up to him. She might just need some time to get used to Fielding and the transition in her life. He’d never had trouble getting women to go out with him. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had told him no.

“Fine,” he said at last. “It’s a bet. What’s the time line?”

“Three months. You’ve got to get her to go out with you in three months.”

“Easy.”

Rob didn’t actually believe it would be easy, but three months was a long time. She’d be living across the street from him, after all, and she’d probably need a lot of help. Help he could provide.

He felt excited for the first time in a really long time.