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“Unfortunately, until the next interesting person moves to town, it’ll be all about you.”
“Yes, but the hero has returned.” She nodded in his direction. “Can’t you be the subject of conversation for a while?”
“Nah. I’m not nearly as interesting as a Yankee woman who wears pencil skirts and sky-high heels. And according to the gray hairs, you have a scandalous past where you combed the world reporting on everything from celebrities to wars. Some man broke your heart, and you’re here hiding away.”
Her eyes opened wide. “Wow. They are good. I wish they’d be as generous with their words with me. Honestly, I know heads of state who give more in an interview than people in this town.”
She hadn’t bothered to deny any of what he’d said, so it must have been true about combing the world and the man who was in her life. He wondered if that relationship was really over. He shrugged. “Give it some time, they’ll come around.”
“Will you talk to me?”
He frowned. “I thought that was what we were doing.”
“No—I mean, yes.” She waved her hand. “In an interview. The Tranquil Waters News should do a feature on the town hero.”
That was the last thing he wanted.
“There isn’t a lot these folks don’t already know. I’ve been gone for about seven years. I’m back, a little worse for the wear but alive. There isn’t much more to tell. I was doing my job but happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
She sighed, not unlike the suffering sound the dog had made. “I should have known. You’re no different than the rest.”
The disappointment in her voice forced him to do something he promised he never would.
“All right, if you want to talk, that’s cool, but not right now. I need to get to the feed store to help my mom.” Small white lie, but he had to stall to gather his thoughts. “I was on my way there when I saw Harley.” At least that part was true.
She glanced from the dog to him as if she were trying to discern the truth. “We could do something a little less formal, if that would make you more comfortable. How about tonight? I could make you dinner at my place.”
He almost laughed at the look on her face as if she couldn’t believe she just asked him to dinner.
“If food is involved, I’m there. If you’re sure?”
She nodded. “How about seven-thirty?”
“See ya then.” He stood.
“Don’t you need the address?”
He chuckled. “The house is where the old Gladstone farm used to be, right?”
“Yes. It overlooks the lake.”
“Trust me. I know that area very well.” More than once, he and his friends had thrown a party at the old barn, which had been torn down years ago.
“Do you need help with the dog?”
“No, I’m going to go grab my laptop and work here so she can rest. I have a feeling she’ll follow those toys wherever I take them.”
“Okay, see ya later.” He patted the dog and walked out the front door.
He had a date. Well, it was technically an interview, but he was practiced at giving nonanswers. He’d done it his entire military career. All of his assignments were classified, so he couldn’t share anything.
Hope she won’t be too mad when she finds out I’m as tight-lipped as the rest of Tranquil Waters.
He started the truck engine. The last thing he wanted was the sleepy angel mad at him.
* * *
“WHAT WAS I thinking?” Macy blurted into the phone. “You don’t invite people you’re interviewing to dinner.”
“Yes, you do. It’s just the dinner’s at a restaurant most of the time,” her friend Cherie chimed in. “Chill, girl. You’re going to have a heart attack. This guy must be superhot to make you so nervous.”
Macy slipped on a pair of flats. After his comment about the heels, she realized she’d been trying too hard. Except for those over sixty, this was more of a jeans and T-shirt town. She was perfectly comfortable in that attire.
It wasn’t until her breakup with Garrison that Cherie, her nearest and dearest friend, forced her to leave Boston and took her for a makeover in Manhattan. They tossed out everything she’d owned and decided to start fresh with a sexy new wardrobe. Add a brand-new haircut that was perfect for her shoulder-length curls. And a newfound passion for accessories. Cherie had convinced her that shoes and purses were really works of art.
She didn’t have to twist Macy’s arm very hard.
But if Macy wanted to fit into the landscape of Tranquil Waters, she’d have to scale back on the big-city wardrobe, etc.
“Superhot doesn’t cover it,” she said honestly. “Scorching might come close. He puts that gorgeous action-adventure star Tom Diamond to shame.”
“Wait. Hotter than Tom Diamond? The man who will be my husband someday, even if I have to shoot him with a tranq gun and stuff him in my trunk? I think it might be time for me to visit Texas.”
“You are welcome anytime. I certainly have the room. And yes he’s that handsome, and he’s sweet to dogs and loves his mother. You know how tough that is for me. He’s like a triple threat. But I have to keep this professional. The last thing I need in this gossip-hungry town is to date its hero.”
“So you want to date him. Hmm.”
“Stop analyzing me and putting words in my mouth,” Macy complained. Cherie never stopped being a psychiatrist, but it was her only vice so Macy put up with her.
“You said the words. I’m just placing them in the proper order for you.”
“Privacy is impossible at any of the restaurants in town. I’m sure that’s why I came up with making the dinner. I wanted him to feel comfortable, to share as much as possible.”
“He’s a war hero, you know there’s not much he can say,” her friend warned.
“This isn’t my first time.” She’d been to almost every war zone in the world the past five years. It had only been the past twelve months that she’d decided to take a permanent position out of the line of fire. Little did she know it was just as dangerous at home.
She’d been shot at, kidnapped twice by insurgents and lost in the middle of the desert. None of that had been as bad as her ex’s betrayal.
“Stop thinking about that jerk. He’s not worth it.”
“How did you know?” Macy laughed at her friend’s incredible insight.
“He called here looking for you again. For a hotshot newspaper publisher, he’s not very good at finding people.”
Macy snorted. He was one of the best reporters ever, and if he truly wanted to find her, he would. But she’d told him if he did, she’d only turn him away again. It was the truth.
“Of course, I told him to stuff it up his—”
Lights flashed across her bedroom window. “Oh, man, he’s here early. Darn those marines and their punctuality.”
Macy stared down at the melee of clothing on her bed and picked up the frilly black blouse on top.
“Put down the black, and choose the red. Men love red.”
“That was scary. Fine. Red it is. I love you and I wish you’d come see me. It’s a nice town but—I still feel very outsiderish.”
“Oh, girl, don’t you worry. They’ll love you as much as I do. Just give them some time and the chance to get to know you. Charm the pants off that marine. That will be a great start.”
The doorbell rang and Harley barked twice.
The big dog had settled in just fine. Macy had even bought the dog her own couch for the family room. The fence had been finished that afternoon, and they’d reinforced the gate with two different kinds of locks.
She turned off the phone.
Harley sat patiently at the door waiting for their guest.
Shoving her curls out of her face, Macy took a deep breath and turned the knob.
Oh, shoot, the man is beautiful.
Dressed in dark jeans, cowboy boots and a dark blue button-down under a leather jacket, he was way beyond scorching.
Her normally agile mind couldn’t think of the word, but she knew there was one.
This is work. This is work. This is work.
He cocked his head and stared down at Harley.
“Did she run away again?”
“What?” Macy forced her hand to stay still even though she wanted to wave it in front of her own face, which was suddenly too warm even though the temperature outside was in the low fifties.
“Harley? You know the dog?”
He smiled at her as if he were humoring her.
“Uh, sorry. I’d been on the phone and I’m a little—uh—” Hot for you. No, that wasn’t right. “Out of sorts. Please come in. And Harley lives with me now. She would have been in here days ago, but the rain kept the ground too wet for them to finish putting the fence in.”
He handed her a colorful bouquet of chrysanthemums in a vase. “These are a present for your new home.” In his other hand he held a large paper bag. “I didn’t know what you were cooking so I brought a couple bottles of wine, some dark beer and, er...green tea.”
She took the flowers and led him to the kitchen. “Thank you, these are beautiful, but you didn’t have to bring anything.”
He shrugged and sat the bag down on her quartz countertop. “It’s the south, if you don’t bring a housewarming gift on the first occasion you visit, or to any party you’re invited to, they’ll talk about you for years.”
“I’ll have to remember that,” she said. Not that she’d been invited to anything, but maybe some day.
“I probably should have mentioned my kitchen skills are somewhat limited. But I make a mean beef stew. I put it on earlier today, so it should be ready in a few minutes. And I have bread and salad.”
“Sounds good to me. In general, I like food, so it doesn’t matter too much what it is. After C-Rats, I can, and have, digested everything from guinea pig in Machu Picchu to some weird toad in Africa. I’m not sure that last one didn’t lead to a night of hallucinations.”
She laughed. “I’m pretty adventurous when it comes to food, but I’ve never eaten either of those.”
“You get to a point where just about everything really does taste like chicken.” He smiled and her heart did a double thump.
Oh, heck, I’m in trouble.
She forced a smile.
“Now I feel like maybe I should have tried for something more exotic.” She examined the wine bottles he’d brought. He’d surprised her with his choices. She didn’t know much about wine, but neither bottle was cheap. “Do you have a preference?”
“Whatever you want is fine with me. I’ll be drinking the tea.”
At her quizzical look, he explained. “The docs are weaning me off the painkillers for my leg. It’s best if I don’t drink as it can create an allergic reaction. Although, me and my buddies at the hospital suspected they only told us that so we don’t find out how the painkillers are with alcohol. They deal with a lot of addicted vets there.”
“We can’t have that. Tea it is. The last thing I need is alcohol. It tends to loosen my tongue, and I’m not the one who needs to do the talking tonight.”
She caught the tightening of his lips before he turned away. “I don’t mind,” he said. “If you want a glass of wine. It won’t bother me.”
“No,” she said lightly. “I’ve grown fond of tea since moving here. Cracks me up that they drink it iced even in the dead of winter.”
“Staple of the South,” he said, pulling a large plastic pitcher with a lid out of the bag. “Usually it’s black tea. I have this friend from China who told me that green tea has healing properties. It also clears away some of the fogginess from the drugs.”
“I’ve heard that, too.” She’d forgotten about his injuries. Except for a small limp, he didn’t seem to be in much pain. But she’d met plenty of marines and she knew how tough they were. If he had to take drugs, the injuries were severe. The journalist in her wanted to know specifics, but it would wait.
“Before we eat, would you like to see the house? Actually, most of it is my uncle Todd’s taste. But I have a few touches here and there.”
“I like the stonework on the outside mixed with the pale brick. It blends into the rocky hills behind the house.”
“Yes, that was one of his ideas—for it to blend into the landscape. Though, I think it’s kind of fun that he added a Gothic touch with some of the windows and the roof alignment.
“Did you know my uncle? I mean, you’ve been gone awhile, but before?”
“I didn’t know him. I probably heard his name around town, but I wasn’t much interested in the newspaper when I was a kid. And some might say I was a little self-absorbed back then. I like to say, I was a teenager.”
They laughed.
She took him through the family area where Harley plopped down on her sofa. The television was on Animal Planet, which seemed to be the dog’s favorite along with anything on PBS.
He smiled. “She’s made herself at home there.”
“Oh, that couch is hers. I even had them put extra down in it and then had that wrapped in plastic and an outdoor fabric. Great Danes have joint and bone aches most of their lives. I wanted Harley to have a soft place to rest. Just a minute, I need to change the channel for her.”
Picking up the remote, she set it on one of the PBS Nova specials. Harley grunted her agreement.
She’d learned about the dog’s television preferences earlier in the day when she’d sat with her at her former home. If Macy tried to watch a channel Harley didn’t like, the dog would voice her displeasure.
Not that she was spoiled or anything.
