“I just want you guys back together before you’re too old to do stuff, you know?”
Ronnie almost choked at the comment, but recovered without giving himself away. “I don’t think that’s something you need to worry about,” he said when he could get the words out without chuckling.
“Well, what’s holding things up?” she demanded, handing him the end of a streamer while she climbed nimbly up a ladder. “You love her, right? And I know she still loves you.” Annie stretched and slapped the streamer up with some tape, then scampered right back down.
“We’re still working on the whole trust thing,” he said. “And she needs to know that I am not going anywhere ever again, at least not without the two of you.”
Annie nodded sagely. “Okay, I get it. That’s why you’re opening this place, instead of just getting another construction job.”
“Exactly.”
“I think a flower shop might have impressed her more. She loves flowers, but I don’t think she gets all that worked up over hammers and paint,” Annie said, her expression filled with doubt as she looked around the store. “I mean, this place is painted beige, for goodness’ sake. How boring is that?”
“What would you have suggested? Purple?” He grinned. “As for a flower shop, can you honestly see me making up bouquets of posies?”
Suddenly Annie was laughing, her expression more carefree than Ronnie had seen it in years. If nothing else, his coming home had been good for her.
And very soon, he thought hopefully, Dana Sue might finally see it was good for her, too.
* * *
Dana Sue was setting out hors d’oeuvres on tables that had been tucked in various corners of Ronnie’s store when the bell over the front door chimed. From where she was, she couldn’t see who had come in, but the next thing she heard was Mary Vaughn’s chipper voice.
“Ronnie, sweetie, I’m here,” she called out. “I came early to see what I could do to help.”
Dana Sue set her basket of light-as-a-feather cheese straws down with a thunk and marched around the end of the display unit. “Hello, Mary Vaughn.”
The Realtor’s eyes widened, but she was too good a saleswoman to appear rattled. “Dana Sue,” she said warmly, giving an air kiss somewhere in the vicinity of Dana Sue’s ear. “I had no idea you’d be here.”
“Sullivan’s is providing the food,” Dana Sue said without elaborating. Some devilish little imp inside her wanted to deliberately give the impression that she was nothing more than the hired help.
Mary Vaughn seemed to relax. “Oh, of course, I believe Ronnie did mention something about you catering the grand opening. I suppose I assumed you’d just drop off the food and leave. Or perhaps send Erik. This must be uncomfortable for you.”
Was the woman living in a cave? Dana Sue wondered irritably. The whole town had been speculating for weeks about the reconciliation between her and Ronnie. Mary Vaughn had apparently turned a deaf ear to it simply because it didn’t suit her. Or perhaps she was so confident in her own powers of seduction, she’d assumed Dana Sue wouldn’t stand a chance against her. Knowing Mary Vaughn’s ego, Dana Sue found it easy to imagine that she could blow off all the gossip as premature or misguided.
“Why would I be uncomfortable?” Dana Sue inquired innocently. “Ronnie and I were married for a lot of years. We have a daughter. We’ve spent a lot of time together since he came back to town.”
“Because of Annie, of course,” Mary Vaughn said, though she was starting to look just a little uncertain.
“Of course,” Dana Sue said sweetly.
Just then Ronnie emerged from the back room, took one look at the two of them squared off facing each other and turned pale. To his credit, he apparently sized up the situation in a glance, because he strolled over, bent down and kissed Dana Sue with so much heat she worried that some of the nearby hors d’oeuvres might get singed.
With his arm still firmly around her waist, as if he feared she might take off, he smiled warmly at Mary Vaughn. “Thanks for coming. Have you tried any of the food yet? Dana Sue and Erik outdid themselves.”
Mary Vaughn evidently didn’t need to be hit in the head with a baseball bat to get the picture when it was spelled out right in front of her face. She managed a weak smile and said, “I was just thinking I’d love to try one of those cheese straws. A party in the South wouldn’t be complete without them.”
“So true,” Dana Sue confirmed, refusing to take offense at the implication that they were unoriginal. “I believe you’ll find that mine are a slight variation on the traditional cheese straws.”
She bit back a grin when Mary Vaughn swallowed her first bite and nearly choked, then grabbed for a bottle of water. “Jalapeños,” she whispered, waving a hand in front of her face.
“Didn’t I mention that?” Dana Sue said. “Sorry. Most everyone in town knows Ronnie likes things a little spicy.”
Ronnie gave her a look, then gently nudged her toward the front. “Let’s give Mary Vaughn a chance to catch her breath,” he said. “You can help me greet people.”
“Whatever you need,” Dana Sue said, casting a smug look back at the other woman.
Up by the old-fashioned cash register, which Ronnie had insisted on keeping, he regarded her with amusement. “I thought men were the only ones who marked their turf,” he said.
“You’ve got to be kidding,” Dana Sue replied. “Women are just more subtle about it.”
He laughed at that. “Sugar, if that was subtle, I’d hate to think what you’d do if you wanted to make things any plainer.”
“Are you complaining that I put my brand on you back there?” she asked.
“Not a bit. I just wish you believed that it wasn’t necessary.”
“Maybe not for you,” she conceded, “but Mary Vaughn doesn’t respond to anything less than
