In a perfect world or, heck, even in a movie, music would play softly in the background. The SUV’s windows would be down, her auburn hair blowing softly in the breeze. Her hero would wait at the road’s end, arms open and welcoming.
They’d kiss…
Tansy Calhoun Forbes’s cell rang, and, startled, she glanced in the rearview mirror. Gracie, her four-year-old daughter, slept soundly, a welcome respite from today’s endless are-we-there-yets.
“Hello?” she practically whispered.
“You unpacked yet?” Jenni Beth Beaumont, her best friend forever, sounded stressed.
“Still a few miles from town, but almost there.”
“Good. Great. Listen, I know this has been a stressful day, heck, a stressful year, and you’re tired…”
Tansy smiled. She could practically see her friend squirming. “What do you need, Jenni Beth?”
“Oh, Tanz, I have two weddings and a sixteenth birthday party coming up this week. Magnolia Brides is booked solid for the next nine months—my dream come true—but I’m dying here! I need cakes. Phenomenal cakes. Your cakes!”
“I don’t have—”
“Kitty said you can use the bakery’s kitchen.”
Tansy sighed and ran her fingers through already-mussed hair.
“I know, I know.” Jenni Beth’s tension vibrated over the airwaves. “I’m putting you on the spot. Big-time. I’m a horrible person. An even worse friend.”
“No, you’re not.” Determined, Tansy sat up a little straighter. “This is exactly what I’ve insisted I want. Part of the reason I’m on my way home. Color me stupid, but I’m in.”
Her friend let out a quiet squeal. “Kitty has all the details—colors, design ideas, size—but if you have any questions—”
Tansy laughed. “I’ll call.”
As the city-limits sign loomed, she hung up and removed her dark glasses. Misty Bottoms, Georgia. The Low Country. Even slowing to a crawl didn’t stop the inevitable.
Home, sweet home.
Right back at the starting gate.
Waiting for her? No music, no hero, and no kiss.
And no one but herself to blame.
Tansy pushed her sunglasses back in place and glared at the brilliant sunshine that bathed the beyond-gorgeous autumn day. The humidity had dropped, and a few white clouds drifted high in the bluebird sky. Shouldn’t it be raining, the sky dark with ominous thunderheads?
Divorced for fifty-three days, five hours, and—she checked the dashboard clock—six minutes, and here she was, hell-bent on creating the cake for a bride’s special day.
She’d had her own shot at the dream and lost—because the wrong groom stood beside her at the altar.
A self-absorbed, compulsive gambler, her ex had lost their house along with all their savings and investments. She’d supported Emerson through multiple rounds of rehab because he was her daughter’s father, but when two goons showed up at the front door demanding her jewelry for money owed, her first call had been to the police, the second to her attorney. At that moment, Emerson Forbes became nothing more than a footnote in her life.
In the blink of an eye, she’d gone from a forty-five-hundred-square-foot home to her SUV and the contents of a few suitcases and boxes. All without a single regret because, from her perspective, she’d drawn the Golden Ticket. She’d left the marriage with Gracie Bella, her daughter.
The wedding and engagement rings, the for-show-only anniversary necklace and earrings she’d refused to hand over to the goons? After her first-ever trip to a pawnshop, the jewelry had financed her and Gracie’s move and given her some essential seed money.
For the next little bit, she and Gracie would stay with her mom. Since Tansy’s dad’s death almost five years ago, her mother’d been lonely. She’d provide a haven for Tansy and her daughter, and they’d fill a void for her. A temporary one. Tansy intended to start searching for a place of her own right away. Until she found something and the movers delivered the few things she’d stored, she and Gracie would live out of their suitcases.
Walking out of her supersized house that morning had been confusing. She’d expected a huge weight to lift, and it had. Still, that was the house she’d brought Gracie home to after she’d been born. Where her first four birthdays had been celebrated. Christmases and Thanksgivings.
And so much unhappiness and deceit.
Tansy massaged her temples where a screaming headache had taken up residence. How long since she’d had a decent night’s sleep or a good meal? Driving one-handed, she rooted around on the passenger seat with the other till she found the bag of almonds. Maybe some protein would give her a boost.
A building off to her right caught her attention and caused a hitch in her heart. Elliot Construction and Lumberyard. She tossed the almonds aside untouched, any semblance of appetite deserting her.
Beck Elliot, the groom behind door number one, the door she hadn’t chosen.
Oh boy. She rested a hand on her stomach. Was she making another mistake? Should she have started over somewhere else?
Ding, ding, ding. The low-fuel indicator chimed, and the little red light blinked on. Shoot! She’d meant to get fuel a while ago, but Gracie had been sleeping so soundly, she’d hesitated to take a chance on waking her. Gracie was the sweetest, most easygoing child on earth, but one more question, no matter how innocent, might be enough to send Tansy over the edge. She felt totally wrung out—from the move, the emotions and uncertainty of the past months.
“Months?” she whispered. “Oh, Tansy Calhoun Forbes, you are still lyin’. Nothing’s been right for years. At least be honest with yourself!”
Tommy’s Texaco loomed.
Relieved, she flipped on her turn signal, veered into the lot, and pulled up to the gas pump.
And there it sat.
A big red truck with Elliot Construction on the side.
The door to the gas station opened, and Beck Elliot, looking hotter than any man had a right to in dusty jeans, a faded T-shirt, and old work boots, stepped outside.
He tore the wrapper off a candy bar and took a bite.
Then his intense, midnight-blue eyes met hers. The chill had her rubbing her arms even though the temperature read seventy-five in the shade.
As she got out, her gaze collided with Beck’s again.
His eyes radiated resentment and betrayed hopes.
Hers? She figured they held remorse, hurt, and impossible-to-deny desire.
* * *
Beck nearly choked on the bite of chocolate. What the hell?
He tossed the bar into the trash barrel outside the door.
Months ago, he’d heard rumblings that Tansy’d enrolled her daughter in the local preschool, but since no one had said anything else about it, he’d figured she’d changed her mind. That fancy SUV of hers was loaded to the roof, though, way more than she’d need for a quick visit.
His chest constricted, and he swore under his breath. Why would she return to Misty Bottoms? She looked like one of those emaciated French models in the magazines his mom read. A good strong wind off the coast would blow her from here to Atlanta.
The strong, carefree Tansy he’d known had disappeared. She’d become… He didn’t know. Ethereal came to mind.
Not his business—and she’d be the first to tell him that.
“Hey, Beck,” Tommy said. “Got your truck filled for ya.”
“Thanks. I left the money on the counter. Later, pal.”
Without another word, without another glance toward the woman he’d once expected to marry, Beck hopped in his truck, turned the key, and pulled out of the gas station, reminding himself that Tansy Calhoun—no, make that Tansy Forbes—was history. Ancient history.
* * *
Tommy watched as first Beck, then Tansy headed down the road. He dug out his phone and hit speed dial. “She’s here.”