and whispered, "Do you work tomorrow?"
"No ..." Then, realizing her mistake,
Rachel amended, "Yes."
"Want to go water ski--was The ping of the ancient cash register bell cut off the rest of his question and the drawer sprang out at the same moment Tommy Lee reached across the counter and grabbed Rachel's wrist.
"Rachel, come out to the house, please." His mouth looked intense and sincere.
How dare he come here and do this to her! Verify the fact that there were other women in his life while inviting her to become one of them!
"No!" Her eyes veered toward the back room. "Please, Tommy Lee ..."
From the rear of the building came the scrape and thump of Verda putting away the machine. Rachel's wrist strained against his hold.
"Sunday?" he asked quickly, his fingers tightening.
Her startled eyes held both anger and an undeniably tempted look, so he hurried on. "Beth will be there, so we wouldn't be alone. I want you to meet her."
Verda's footsteps were coming back and he was forced to drop Rachel's wrist. When the clerk emerged from the doorway Tommy Lee was putting
his credit card away and Rachel was 133 dropping the gift into a tiny floral paper sack.
"Thank you for stopping in," she said cheerfully, handing him his purchase. "And have a nice weekend."
Tommy Lee carefully wiped his feelings from his face and brought forth a lazy smile. "Y'all do the same, Mrs. Hollis, and you, too, Verda."
He nodded to the clerk, who called out the customary "Y'all come back." Then he strolled from the store without a backward glance.
The moment the door closed behind him, Verda propped a hand on her hip, raised one eyebrow, and said, "Mrs. Hollis?" Her shrewd eyes homed in on Rachel. "What's going on?"
"Going on?" Rachel busied herself arranging the scarves on top of the showcase. "Nothing's going on, Verda. Whatever in the world do you mean?"
"I suddenly put a name with the voice on the phone. It's his. Tommy Lee Gentry." She peered closely at Rachel. "He been pestering you?"
"Oh, for heaven's sake, Verda, don't be silly. What would Tommy Lee Gentry be doing pestering me?"
"What does Tommy Lee Gentry do pestering half the women of this town?" She glanced toward the door. "Which one of his doxies do you reckon those earrings were for?"
The question shot a flash of cold through Rachel. She wanted to cringe and defend him simultaneously. Why should she care about his indiscretions or what the town thought of him because of them? Yet the fact remained that she did. She always had.
"Do you want to stand there wondering about it all weekend, or would you rather lock up and go home?" Rachel forced an amused smile to her lips, as if she, too, were curious about the woman whose ears would be decorated with the red beads.
"You sure it wasn't him?" Verda couldn't resist asking one more time, scrunching up her eyes and studying Rachel closely.
"Tommy Lee Gentry?" Rachel turned away casually, heading for the light switch by the armoire. "I swear, Verda, if I have to put up with any more ridiculous questions from you I'll begin
to wonder if I've given you enough time off 135 lately." Rachel's low laugh followed, and Verda gave up.
"Oh, all right, but I could've sworn it was him when he walked in here and started talking."
Duplicity was not Rachel's long suit. When she'd locked up and was on her way home, safely away from Verda's inquisitive eyes, she pulled over to the curb along a tree-shaded street, crossed her wrists on the steering wheel, and dropped her forehead on them.
Rachel Hollis, get the man out of your mind. See what people think of him? And just what do you think they'd be saying about you if you were seen with Tommy Lee Gentry when Owen is scarcely cold in his grave?
But it hurt, having to lie about Tommy Lee. She felt she was injuring him more, yet what else could she have done with Verda all ears and eyes? But she remembered his wind-whipped hair, his fingers on her
"No ..." Then, realizing her mistake,
Rachel amended, "Yes."
"Want to go water ski--was The ping of the ancient cash register bell cut off the rest of his question and the drawer sprang out at the same moment Tommy Lee reached across the counter and grabbed Rachel's wrist.
"Rachel, come out to the house, please." His mouth looked intense and sincere.
How dare he come here and do this to her! Verify the fact that there were other women in his life while inviting her to become one of them!
"No!" Her eyes veered toward the back room. "Please, Tommy Lee ..."
From the rear of the building came the scrape and thump of Verda putting away the machine. Rachel's wrist strained against his hold.
"Sunday?" he asked quickly, his fingers tightening.
Her startled eyes held both anger and an undeniably tempted look, so he hurried on. "Beth will be there, so we wouldn't be alone. I want you to meet her."
Verda's footsteps were coming back and he was forced to drop Rachel's wrist. When the clerk emerged from the doorway Tommy Lee was putting
his credit card away and Rachel was 133 dropping the gift into a tiny floral paper sack.
"Thank you for stopping in," she said cheerfully, handing him his purchase. "And have a nice weekend."
Tommy Lee carefully wiped his feelings from his face and brought forth a lazy smile. "Y'all do the same, Mrs. Hollis, and you, too, Verda."
He nodded to the clerk, who called out the customary "Y'all come back." Then he strolled from the store without a backward glance.
The moment the door closed behind him, Verda propped a hand on her hip, raised one eyebrow, and said, "Mrs. Hollis?" Her shrewd eyes homed in on Rachel. "What's going on?"
"Going on?" Rachel busied herself arranging the scarves on top of the showcase. "Nothing's going on, Verda. Whatever in the world do you mean?"
"I suddenly put a name with the voice on the phone. It's his. Tommy Lee Gentry." She peered closely at Rachel. "He been pestering you?"
"Oh, for heaven's sake, Verda, don't be silly. What would Tommy Lee Gentry be doing pestering me?"
"What does Tommy Lee Gentry do pestering half the women of this town?" She glanced toward the door. "Which one of his doxies do you reckon those earrings were for?"
The question shot a flash of cold through Rachel. She wanted to cringe and defend him simultaneously. Why should she care about his indiscretions or what the town thought of him because of them? Yet the fact remained that she did. She always had.
"Do you want to stand there wondering about it all weekend, or would you rather lock up and go home?" Rachel forced an amused smile to her lips, as if she, too, were curious about the woman whose ears would be decorated with the red beads.
"You sure it wasn't him?" Verda couldn't resist asking one more time, scrunching up her eyes and studying Rachel closely.
"Tommy Lee Gentry?" Rachel turned away casually, heading for the light switch by the armoire. "I swear, Verda, if I have to put up with any more ridiculous questions from you I'll begin
to wonder if I've given you enough time off 135 lately." Rachel's low laugh followed, and Verda gave up.
"Oh, all right, but I could've sworn it was him when he walked in here and started talking."
Duplicity was not Rachel's long suit. When she'd locked up and was on her way home, safely away from Verda's inquisitive eyes, she pulled over to the curb along a tree-shaded street, crossed her wrists on the steering wheel, and dropped her forehead on them.
Rachel Hollis, get the man out of your mind. See what people think of him? And just what do you think they'd be saying about you if you were seen with Tommy Lee Gentry when Owen is scarcely cold in his grave?
But it hurt, having to lie about Tommy Lee. She felt she was injuring him more, yet what else could she have done with Verda all ears and eyes? But she remembered his wind-whipped hair, his fingers on her
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