Tanya Michaels

Trouble in Tennessee


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the hell he was doing.

      Treble’s earlier moment of vulnerability had startled him, leaving him to wonder if he’d imagined it as she effortlessly dazzled the young man working the register. By the time they left the counter with their food, Keith concluded that his companion was as unpredictable as she was gorgeous, which was saying something. The more moods he watched play across that expressive face, the more the full impact of her beauty hit him. Did she know men were watching her as she sauntered across the room?

      Of course she does. She paints her fingernails blue and carries bright red luggage. This is not a woman who hides from attention. And yet she’d seemed sincerely nervous about running into some long-ago flame. From her reaction, Keith guessed the guy must have dumped her. Had this ex been the jealous type and didn’t like others checking out Treble? Or maybe he’d been intimidated by her. Or—

      “Well, well, well. Looks like Trouble’s back in town.” A man stopped next to Treble’s chair. “Time’s been good to you, darlin’.”

      “Certainly better than you ever were,” she returned sweetly.

      Or maybe the guy who dumped her was just a jerk, Keith concluded. He didn’t know Rich Danner very well except that the landscaper had moved back to Joyous about two months ago, apparently licking his wounds from a divorce. He’d remarked to Keith that they were the most eligible bachelors in town. “Us and Jason McDeere, but he’s raising a toddler, which puts us ahead in desirability. ’Course there’s plenty of fillies to go around for all three of us.”

      Now, Rich was turning green eyes full of apology toward the “filly” he’d let get away. “Don’t be like that, Treb. I was a kid. Teenagers make bad romantic decisions.”

      She reached for her sandwich. “I couldn’t agree more.”

      Keith grinned at her implication, but the diss had obviously sailed over Rich’s head.

      “I knew you’d understand. How about I join you, and we can reminisce about what good times we had before I screwed up?”

      “Actually,” Keith interjected, his impulsive words surprising him, “I kind of wanted Treble all to myself for another few minutes before we have to leave. She was fascinating me with stories about her job as a DJ in Atlanta.”

      Treble’s eyebrows shot up, but she played along. Truthfully, they’d never once discussed what she did for a living, but Charity had mentioned it. Whereas Harrison rarely spoke of his stepdaughter, Charity was effusively proud of her older sister, her naked affection almost masking her disappointment when Treble missed yet another holiday or birthday at home.

      “Sure, buddy.” Rich held his hands in front of him and gave a quick nod of male understanding. “I get it. But, Treble, we’ll have to catch up some other time.”

      When they were alone again, Treble said, “Thank you. I don’t need a man to rescue me, but I’m not gonna look a gift horse in the mouth, either.”

      “Does everyone born in Tennessee compare people to livestock?”

      “What?” Lines of confusion furrowed her brow.

      “Never mind. And you’re welcome,” he added. “That guy can get on my nerves.”

      She nodded, taking a big bite of her sandwich and letting out a moan of pleasure. “God, I forgot how great Tennessee barbecue is. I mean, I knew I loved it, but this…This is better than sex.”

      He squeezed his own sandwich and barbecue sauce ran down his fingers.

      If she’d noticed, he would have been embarrassed, but she seemed oblivious, lost in enjoyment of her food. Some of the women in town would have fainted—blushed, at the very least—at having the word sex tossed casually into meal conversation, but Treble clearly thought nothing of it.

      She washed down her food with a swallow of soda. “Earlier, you said people ‘born in Tennessee.’ So you’re not a native?”

      “Nope. Charity first mentioned you when she heard I’d moved here from Atlanta. I went to med school and interned there. Grew up in Savannah.”

      A city steeped in rich tradition and history, Savannah seemed like a good place for ghosts. He preferred to leave his there. In the E.R. of a major Atlanta hospital, he’d found himself dealing with too many reminders, too much trauma. He’d become a doctor because he wanted to save people, but if he’d stayed where he was, he was the one who’d wind up needing saving. So he’d found salvation in the relatively peaceful town of Joyous. He had the practice, real friends. Of course, Charity tutted that he’d be even happier once he found a girlfriend.

      “It’s not as if there aren’t willing women,” she’d teased, threatening to count the number of foil-covered casseroles in his freezer.

      He’d considered deflecting her interest in setting him up by suggesting she encourage her dad to date instead—Harrison needed something in his life besides control of the dairy business and grueling workweeks. But even though it had been a long time since Charity’s mother died, Keith didn’t push the idea of a replacement romance. Losing family was hard, and Charity had mentioned how much she’d been missing her mom lately.

      “I suppose you think it’s pitiful that I called my sister and begged her to come be with me?” Charity had asked.

      “Of course not.” The only thing Keith hadn’t understood was why Bill and Harrison had been so shocked Treble agreed. If Keith’s older sister were still alive, there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for her.

      “Keith.” Treble’s voice was soft, but persistently inquisitive. “Are you okay?”

      He met her eyes, not sure what to make of the woman. Her gaze was filled with what seemed like empathy, hardly the selfish person she’d been painted as in unflattering gossip. He understood better than most the value of a fresh start. Maybe Treble had changed, maybe she’d returned not only to help her sister but to earn her stepfather’s forgiveness for whatever youthful transgressions were in her past.

      “I’m fine,” he assured her, “but a lousy lunch date, huh?”

      “Well, you won’t be winning any awards for witty conversation, but you’re easy on the eyes, so it balances out.” Leaning forward, she lowered her voice conspiratorially. “You do know there’s a blonde in the corner who’s been checking you out, don’t you?”

      His gaze darted in the direction she’d subtly indicated, and he spotted elementary school receptionist Dinah Perkins having lunch with two other women. When Dinah caught him noticing, she smiled and offered a small finger wave. Moments later, she and her girlfriends huddled into hushed conversation. Either they wanted to know who the stranger was sitting with Dr. Caldwell, or they already knew and, like Rich Danner, were intrigued by Trouble—er, Treble’s—return to Tennessee.

      “Friend of yours?” Treble asked Keith.

      “Just a friend,” he stressed.

      How long had it been since he’d had a girlfriend? Med school and his stint at the hospital had been hectic, and since moving here he’d been…cautious. There’d been a few dates and a nice weekend when a female friend had come to visit, but if his love life hadn’t completely flatlined, its prognosis wasn’t rosy, either. Eventually, he wanted to find the right woman to make his fresh start complete, but now that he was fitting in, he didn’t want to jeopardize that with social missteps. Citizens gathered round their own, and if Keith broke up with a local girl, he risked becoming an outsider again. Maybe he was overanalyzing, but he hadn’t felt at home anywhere in a long time.

      It wasn’t something he was willing to lose.

      “About done?” he asked Treble.

      She nodded. “I’ve taken up enough of your day. If you can swing me by the garage so I can give the mechanic my keys, you’ll be rid of me soon.”

      Standing, she leaned over to grab a couple of napkins and clean off the table.