I know yours, Sarah. Mine’s Travis. Travis McDonald.” He held out his hand. Schooled with good manners, she took it, but released it almost immediately.
“McDonald?” she repeated, recognition obviously dawning as the name registered. “Any relation to Tom, our town manager?”
“He’s my cousin,” he admitted, then smiled. “Now, see, we’re practically old friends. You can tell me anything.”
“I thought men hated listening to women pour out their problems,” she said, studying him curiously.
“Really? I’ve found it’s the best way to get to know a woman. If you don’t listen to what’s going on in her life, how are you supposed to know how to make her happy?”
“And making women happy is what you do?”
He laughed at the innuendo in her tone. “Not in that way, sugar, though we could probably work something out.”
She stared at him for a beat, clearly uncertain whether he was joking or not. Finally, she chuckled. “You’re outrageous.”
“Just one of the words I’ve heard used,” he admitted. “Sit, and I’ll tell you some of the others.”
“But I thought you wanted to talk about me,” she said, feigning disappointment.
Travis laughed. “That’ll work, too.”
“Sorry. I really do have to get back to work. As soon as I get this place back in order, I need to get home to my kids. They’re always upset when their daddy goes back to Alabama.”
“You’re divorced,” he concluded.
“Yes, and a single mom of a girl who’s not quite two and a boy who just turned four.”
“No wonder you look a little shell-shocked. That’s a heavy load to be carrying.”
Her gaze narrowed. “You don’t like kids?”
“I love kids, as a matter of fact. I’m just saying I know how demanding it is to raise a couple of them on your own.”
“Now how would you know a thing like that?” she asked with blatant skepticism.
“Because my mama did it with me and my two sisters. My daddy, bless his heart, was worthless when it came to parenting. He was good for three things, as near as I could tell, writing checks, chasing women and telling the rest of us how badly we were screwing up.”
“He sounds like a wonderful role model,” she said wryly. “Are you thinking of following in his footsteps? You certainly have the sweet talk down pat.”
The suggestion that he might be anything like his daddy offended Travis deeply, but she had no way of knowing that. “I certainly do hold him up as an example,” he said slowly, holding her gaze. “Of what not to be.”
She blinked at the heat behind his words. “Okay, then. Good for you.” She stood up hurriedly. “Nice talking to you, Travis McDonald.”
“You, too, Sarah,” he said with more sincerity than she’d managed.
He watched her walk away, wondering at the fact that he was still fascinated despite all the complications screaming at him to stay far, far away.
Mary Vaughn Lewis couldn’t recall a time in her life when she’d been happier. When she’d married Sonny Lewis the first time, she’d been after respectability and security. He was the son of the town mayor and owner of a successful car dealership. Married to Sonny, she’d believed no one would ever look down on her again or bring up her less-than-respectable family.
They’d divorced because he’d tired of her taking him for granted. Or maybe because he’d tired of being second best to Ronnie Sullivan, who’d never even given her a second glance despite her very best efforts to catch his attention. It was hard to say just why Sonny had lost patience, but the divorce had been a shock just the same. She’d never envisioned Sonny leaving her. The one constant in her life had been his adoration from the time they’d been teenagers.
Only after they’d been apart for a while had Mary Vaughn realized what a treasure Sonny was. She’d found herself drawn to him in a whole new way. The passion that had been methodical the first time around had been rekindled into something that stunned her with its intensity. In their forties, they were like two kids who couldn’t get enough of each other.
As much as this new side of their relationship thrilled her, it was seriously cutting into her career as a real estate agent. She’d realized she was well and truly hooked on her new husband when she chose running home for a mid-afternoon quickie over showing houses or closing a deal. Her schedule, once packed with appointments she refused to change, was now subject to her husband’s timetable and the sudden impulses that might strike either one of them.
Which is why she was at home and breathless when she had a call from Travis McDonald inquiring about real estate downtown. Though she had no intention of stopping what she was doing, she couldn’t keep herself from listening to his message. Since moving a property on Main Street or anywhere in the vicinity was rare, she yanked the sheet up to her chin, pushed away Sonny’s roving hand and took notice, grabbing the phone out of its cradle before he could hang up.
“I have a few properties that might suit your needs,” she immediately told the man on the other end of the line. “When would you like to look?”
“How’s this afternoon?” he said, sounding eager. “I could meet you in a half hour.”
“A half hour will be perfect,” she said at once, ignoring Sonny’s resigned expression. She settled the details, hung up the phone and turned to her husband. “Five minutes to dress, another five to get there. That leaves us twenty minutes. You up to the challenge?”
Sonny grinned. “You ever know me not to be?” he said, already reaching for her.
A half hour later, Mary Vaughn’s hair was a bit more tousled than usual, her cheeks a little pinker, as she pulled her Mercedes to the curb. Even so, a glance at her watch told her she was right on time. Just one more incidence in her life when Sonny hadn’t let her down.
At the end of May there was a frenzy of speculation in Wharton’s when a SOLD sign appeared on the window of an empty space on Azalea Drive, just across the street from Town Hall and on the other side of the square from Wharton’s.
Once occupied by a small newsstand that had sold magazines, cigarettes and Coca-Cola in bottles out of an old-fashioned red cooler, it had been empty for several years. The dingy front window had been covered over with curling brown paper, the once-green door was now faded and the rolled up awning was so dry-rotted it would probably crumble if anyone dared to open it.
For once, no one seemed to be able to pry even a tidbit of information from Mary Vaughn, who was usually only too eager to tell the world about the local real estate sales, especially those she’d made herself.
“Sorry, I’ve been sworn to secrecy,” she told Sarah and Grace when they ganged up on her one morning when she stopped in to pick up a cup of coffee to go.
“Since when has that ever stopped you?” Grace grumbled with a huff.
Mary Vaughn didn’t take offense. “The buyer paid full price to keep my mouth shut. What can I say? Money talks.”
“Well, you’d think whoever it is would want to set off some free word-of-mouth,” Grace said. “Must not have much business sense.”
Mary Vaughn grinned at Sarah. “Maybe we should talk about something else. I’m hoping Rory Sue’s going to move back home. Maybe she could get together with you, Annie and Raylene sometime. I think once she sees there are some young people still around, she’ll feel more positive about settling in Serenity, instead of heading over to Charleston. Sonny and I are just sick, thinking about her so far away. And you should hear her granddaddy going on and on about it. Howard’s beside himself.”
As