Talk of the Town by Suzanne Macpherson

told him she was an incredible flight risk. She was hiding out, not settling down.
    But he did sense her strong desire to create some artificially perfect place. Paradise had that effect on lots of people. Maybe on him as well.
    Sam whacked his head against his folded arms. She’d really put a wrench in his plans. He knew it wasn’t macho, but he had a powerful longing to march down the aisle in a tuxedo, to carry his bride over the threshold, and to have a couple of kids climb all over him when he got home. He wanted to show up at a family Thanksgiving with a wife. His parents would love that.
    And how would his parents feel about Kelly at the holiday table? Hi, Mom and Dad, here’s my recently divorced, car-thief, tattooed, runaway wife.
    Maybe Kelly was just a detour on his road to the altar. A test of his resolve. Attractions were one thing. Life mates were another. He had tohang on to his visions of what he wanted in a marriage.
    Men were supposed to run screaming from that kind of commitment, and here he was aching for it. He had enjoyed his single time, but at thirty-two, his biological clock must be ticking. Shit, did men even have those?
    Before he let his heart get wrenched out by letting Kelly get under his skin, maybe he’d test her resolve. If she wanted a courtship, he’d give her one hell of a cornball Paradise-driven courtship. If she stuck around for the end of it, he’d be surprised. If she bolted, he’d have learned something.
    He’d know for sure that whatever part of him wanted to take home stray cats, fix them up, feed them, and give them a warm place to sleep was the part that needed to be locked up for good. It led him nowhere but Troubleville.
    Most likely he was going to scare this stray cat right out of town, and he’d never see her again.
    That would be real unfortunate if she ran, because he had never wanted a woman in his arms, in his bed, the way he wanted this one.
    Sam started up the Chevy and drove a few blocks before he heard a car come up behind him. In his rearview mirror he caught the familiar look of Lynnette Stivers’s black Trans Am.
    What the hell was she up to now? Hisglimpses of her had become more frequent. Either Paradise really was a very small town or she was following him. Considering it was one o’clock in the morning, chances were she was up to her old tricks.
    He hated to call Tom Blackwell again, the poor guy. It had to be totally humiliating for him, being in love with her and all.
    The Trans Am turned down a side street. Heck, she wasn’t hurting anyone. It could wait.

Chapter 7
    At nine o’clock on Sunday morning, Sam Grayson came through the door of the Hen House Beauty Parlor. Kelly was having her second cup of tea and she half dropped her cup into the saucer, causing it to clatter noisily.
    “Sam! I wasn’t expecting you so soon!”
    “Uh-oh,” Myrtle said loudly. “Did I forget to tell you Sam called to say he was coming over? It’s Eastern Star Mother-Daughter Day, and my mind is in the clouds. You know we’re only open two Sundays a year, and this is one of ’em.” Myrtle said all that without breaking her stride. She was doing Rhonda Pierson’s hair in a foil, and Rhonda looked like an alien.
    Sam was staring. Myrtle had on leopard leggings and a black turtleneck top—Kelly could see Sam was a little startled by both Rhonda and Myrtle.
    “I’ll be right out,” Kelly called from across the room. If ever a man needed an escape route, Sam was in need.
    “Great, I’ll…er…wait outside.” Sam backed out the door. The screen made its sprongy noise as he opened and shut it behind him.
    As soon as he stepped back outside, Myrtle and her crew, Opal and Rhonda, and a few of the customers ran over to the window.
    “Rayanne, come over here and check this out! Sam’s such a kid at heart.”
    “Geez, you guys, has it been that long since you saw a man around here?” Kelly grabbed her leather jacket and headed to the door. Then she stopped