“And when I get there, I’m going in alone.”
“Sunny, Sunny,” he said in a wheedling way, “no more petting tonight?”
“No.”
“That’s not fair. I hadn’t even gotten my hand up your skirt yet. I’ll bet half the guys at the drive-in had at least gotten that far.”
He was pouting so adorably that she laughed, her anger of a moment ago being dissolved by his charm. “You’re incorrigible.”
The bell over the entry to the café jangled when the door was opened. Sunny glanced in that direction. At that instant, her smile collapsed and her peachy complexion paled to the color of cold ashes.
The man who came in looked around. His gaze fell on her. He appeared to be as shocked at seeing her as she was at seeing him.
Ty, instantly aware of the change in Sunny, turned around. Don Jenkins was walking toward them.
“Hello, Sunny.”
“Hello, Don.”
Sunny thought that her heart was going to claw its way out of her chest. She knew, in the most literal sense, what heartache felt like. But she had to put on a brave and blasé front. The smile she painted on was too bright and too wide to be genuine, but she hoped he wouldn’t notice.
“You look great,” Don said.
“Thanks. So do you.”
Actually he didn’t. He looked haggard. Thin and stoop-shouldered. Fran’s words about a marriage on the rocks came back to her, and Sunny took a perverse pleasure in the evident signs of his stress and unhappiness.
But his face was so poignantly familiar that it was difficult for her to pinpoint what was different about him and easy to savor all that was familiar, from the way he parted his hair to the habitual way he slipped his hands into his trouser pockets.
“Evening, Ty,” Don said, remembering his manners. He glanced down at the sheriff, who smiled at him blandly.
“Don.”
Don addressed Sunny again. “I guess you’re in town for Fran’s wedding.”
The obvious reply was heard by all, but spoken by none. It was a wedding that had caused her to leave and a wedding that had brought her back.
“I’m so happy for her. Steve seems like a wonderful person,” she said enthusiastically.
“Yeah, he’s a great guy.” Don shifted his weight from one foot to another. “How are things going for you in New Orleans?”
Sunny didn’t have to ask how he knew where she was living. Gossip had surely leaked back to him. “Oh, I absolutely love it. I have an apartment off St. Charles near Tulane.”
Impressed, he raised his eyebrows. “Nice neighborhood.”
“I adore it. It’s so exciting in the city. There’s always something going on.”
“Around Mardi Gras time, I saw your picture in the paper with one of the float costumes you had designed.”
She tilted her head back. “Were you suitably impressed?”
“Yes, I was,” he answered seriously.
Sunny didn’t want to ask the next question, but it was pressing against the back of her throat, demanding to be voiced. “How’s Gretchen?”
He rolled his shoulders once, quickly, in the facsimile of a shrug. “She’s, uh, she’s okay.”
Their eyes met and held for several beats before Sunny said, “Well, we were just on our way out. Ready, Ty? It was so good to see you again, Don. Tell Gretchen hello for me.”