“Moving along at a good pace. This house is going to be spiffed up and ready to sell in no time.”
As far as Mac was concerned, it couldn’t be too soon.
He was beginning to think he’d made a terrible mistake by coming to Honoria.
SHARON MADE SURE her hair was neat, her lipstick was fresh, her clothes were straight and her expression was unrevealing before she entered her shop. Finally confident that there were no clues to be found in her expression about how she’d spent her lunch hour, she walked in with her head high and a cheery smile on her face.
“Oh, my,” Tressie said after taking one look at her. “You must have had an interesting lunch.”
Sharon’s jaw nearly dropped. “Why did you say that?”
“You were with Mac Cordero, weren’t you?”
“How do you know?”
“I can tell by the glow in your eyes.”
Sharon scowled.
Tressie laughed again. “I’m only teasing you, Sharon. Kyle McAllister stopped by for his wife’s wallpaper borders, and he said he saw you and Mac picking up barbecue at Bud’s.”
“Dammit, can’t someone even eat a sandwich in this town without everyone talking about it?” Sharon felt like stamping her feet in frustration. It was hard enough trying to figure out for herself what was developing between her and Mac. It made it even more stressful when she knew everything they did was being watched and whispered about.
Tressie merely shrugged. “You know this town, Sharon. It’s infuriating at times, but that’s just the way things are. How do you think I found out my weasel of an ex-husband was running around with that health-club bimbo, hmm? I always suspected he had some emotional problems, but I never knew he was completely stupid. He seemed shocked that I heard about his affair—he thought he’d been so very clever. He should have remembered that secrets have a way of coming out in this town.”
For some reason, Tressie’s words made a funny prickle of apprehension course down Sharon’s spine. She didn’t know why. While she was trying to keep her relationship with Mac private for now, it wasn’t as though they were trying to conceal any great secret. They weren’t doing anything wrong. They were falling in love, and they didn’t want to do that in the public eye.
She felt the blood drain suddenly out of her face. Falling in love? Was that what they were doing? She didn’t know about Mac, but the words felt all too right to her.
Tressie was looking at her in concern now. “Sharon? You okay?”
Forcin
g a smile, Sharon pressed a hand to her stomach. “Barbecue in the middle of a workday. I’ll spend the rest of the afternoon popping antacids.”
“You’re sure you don’t want to talk about anything? I’m a pretty good listener, you know. And, believe it or not, I can keep my mouth shut when I’m asked to.”
Knowing the offer was sincere, and that Tressie really would respect her privacy, Sharon was tempted. It might make her feel better to share what she was going through with another woman—her excitement, her worries, her hopes, her fears, the roller-coaster of emotions that went along with falling in love.
While Sharon had a lot of women friends, there was no one she felt comfortable confiding her most private emotions to, especially since her closest friend from high school had married and moved away a year or so ago. Her mother and Bobbie McBride, two confidantes she’d always counted on, wouldn’t be back for a while yet. She’d been keeping so much to herself lately—her dissatisfaction with the rut she and Jerry had fallen into, her developing attraction to Mac, her growing concerns about Brad. She would certainly value any advice she could get.
Still, she heard herself saying, “Thanks, Tressie, but everything’s fine. Just busy, as usual. Did you hear anything yet about that order we placed for Mabel Watson?”
Tressie was obviously reluctant to change the subject, but a long look at Sharon’s expression must have convinced her that she really had no choice. She sighed and shook her head. “I’ll go call about it right now.”
“Thank you. I have some paperwork to do, so I’ll be at the computer if you need me.”
“And you know where to find me if you need me,” Tressie countered.
“Yes, I do. Thank you.”
Sharon spent the rest of the afternoon trying to concentrate on work and failing abysmally. The heady euphoria of lovemaking had faded, leaving only a deep, warm glow inside her. An occasional flash of memory made her catch her breath and close her eyes, instantly transported back to the bed in Mac’s apartment. But for the most part she found herself spending more time worrying than savoring.
She kept picturing that ugly scrape on the side of Mac’s truck. Whoever had inflicted it had wanted to cause damage. It had been malicious and calculated. A random act of vandalism or a personal attack against Mac? Who in town disliked him that much?
Other than Brad, of course.
She didn’t want to believe her brother capable of something like that, even though it was obvious Mac didn’t share her faith. Brad was her little brother. He went to church with her. His raggedy old teddy bear still sat on a shelf in his closet. He wouldn’t have deliberately caused hundreds of dollars’ worth of damage just because he’d taken an irrational dislike to Mac, would he? Of course not.