Sherryl Woods - Honeysuckle Summer

“She filled me in. We can work around that. If you can spare a few minutes now to tell me what you’d like, I’ll line up the perfect places and have you all moved in by this time next month.” She eyed the remaining pizza. “Hey, are you going to eat the rest of this?”

“Help yourself.” He beckoned the waitress, then asked Rory Sue, “What would you like to drink?”

“A diet cola will do,” she said, already biting into the first slice of pizza. She sighed with undisguised pleasure. “I only allow myself to eat this once a month. It’s way too fattening otherwise.”

“I’ve noticed,” Walter said, thinking of his own expanding waistline. Maybe he would take Ronnie Sullivan up on his invitation to join him, Cal Maddox, Tom McDonald and some of the other men in town to shoot hoops sometime.

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with your body,” she said, giving him a frank survey. “I did mention you’re hot, didn’t I?”

Walter had been hearing some variation of that since high school. It no longer had the power to seduce him. He’d realized how little looks mattered. He’d prefer it these days if someone told him he was living his life with integrity.

“Is that part of your sales spiel?” he asked Rory Sue.

“Nope, just an observation. I pretty much say what’s on my mind.”

“I imagine that gets you into trouble from time to time.”

“Not so much with men,” she said candidly. “They seem to appreciate knowing where they stand with me. I don’t have a lot of women friends, though.”

“Not even Raylene?”

“Not really. She, Annie and Sarah are tight, but I’m a couple of years younger.” She gave him a chagrined look. “And then there was a bit of a misunderstanding when Sarah thought I was after Travis.”

Walter was finding the conversation more intriguing by the minute. “Were you?”

“Sure,” she said with a shrug. “What woman with a libido wouldn’t have been, but he only had eyes for Sarah.” She winced, then added, “Sorry. See what I mean? I say whatever comes into my head. I didn’t think about the fact that Sarah’s your ex-wife. Does it bother you that she and Travis are together?”

Walter didn’t think the situation called for an in-depth discussion of his very complicated feelings on that subject. “My marriage was over a long time ago,” he said, and left it at that.

She regarded him skeptically. “There’s an edge in your voice that tells me you’re not as happy about that as you’d like everyone to believe.”

Surprised that she was that astute, he decided he shouldn’t sell her short again. “The situation is what it is. I thought we were going to talk about real estate.”

Rory Sue immediately sat up straighter, displaying an intriguing amount of cleavage, especially when she leaned forward and reached for a piece of paper from his notepad. “You mind?” she asked, also borrowing his pen. “Okay, let’s get started. Describe the perfect house.”

Walter thought of the large colonial he and Sarah had lived in back in Alabama. It had been chosen by his mother, mostly because it was the largest house in the most impressive neighborhood in town. He’d never felt comfortable there. Nor had Sarah, though she’d done her best to make the echoing, too-large rooms seem cozy and inviting.

“Something small,” he said at once. “Three bedrooms, a couple of baths, maybe a patio out back. A nice yard for the kids. Nothing fancy.”

“You need a gourmet kitchen?”

“I need a functioning kitchen.”

“You know the house you just described, don’t you? The one Sarah’s living in right now. Maybe you could buy it when she and Travis get married.”

Walter shook his head. “Right style, but I want something I can move into now. Besides, I think Raylene’s planning to buy it.” They’d talked about that on several occasions. He’d tried telling her it would be a mistake, that she was getting entirely too comfortable in her hideout. Maybe, though, Dr. McDaniels would get through to her and she’d move on, find her own home and her own life.

“Do you prefer a house or a condo?” Rory Sue asked. “Something brand new or older?”

“A house,” he said at once, wanting something that would feel at least marginally like a home, rather than a bachelor pad. “And older, with full-grown trees and a lawn, not a patch of bare ground with no shade.”

She nodded. “Got it. When are you free? Can you give me an hour tomorrow?”

Walter was startled by the hint of efficiency. He’d labeled her more of a scatterbrain, which just proved his instincts about women were no better than they use to be. Heaven knew, he’d misjudged Sarah often enough.

“That soon?” he asked.

She shrugged. “You said you wanted to move in now. Why mess around? I’ll go through my listings tonight and be ready to show you three or four things tomorrow. You tell me when.”

“Five o’clock?” he suggested.

“Works for me,” she said, then gave him a look that was more impish than come-hither. “And if I’ve found the perfect place, you can buy me dinner to celebrate. How’s that for a deal?”

Regarding her with bemusement, Walter nodded. “I can’t recall a better one.”

She slid out of the booth. “Then I’d better get busy, if I’m going to prove that I’m as good as my mom in this real estate gig. Thanks for the pizza, Walter. We’ll chalk this up as our first date.” She winked. “Just so you know, with me things usually start to get really interesting by the end of the second date.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said. “Just one thing.”

“Yes?”

“In my world, for them to count as dates, I need to do the asking, so let’s think of tonight and tomorrow as all business, okay?”

For a moment, she looked startled, but then she tossed her mane of chestnut hair and laughed. “An old-fashioned guy! Who’d have thought it? Okay, Walter, we’ll play this your way. I’ll see you tomorrow at five. And since dinner’s business, I’ll buy.”

“Do you always have to have the last word?”

“I don’t have to,” she told him, “but it usually works out that way.”

She sashayed off before he could respond, giving him an excellent view of a backside that would make most men weep. She left Walter wondering just what in heaven’s name Raylene had been thinking.

He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and punched in the number at Sarah’s. Raylene picked up.

“I’ve just had a very interesting, supposedly chance encounter with Rory Sue Lewis,” he told her. “What do you know about that?”

“I might have mentioned your real estate needs to her,” she said, a barely contained hint of laughter threading through her voice. “Does she think she can find you a house?”

“That’s the least of what she thinks she can do for me,” he said.

“I thought the two of you might hit it off.”

“Hit it off? She scares me to death.”

Raylene did laugh then. “Walter Price, you did not just say that.”

“I mean it. She’s pushy and blatantly sexual.”

“Isn’t that every man’s dream?”

“I suppose some men fantasize about women chasing them, but personally I prefer a more demure, traditional type.”

“Because your marriage to a woman like that worked out so well?” Raylene taunted.

Walter faltered at that. When he remained silent, Raylene added, “You need a woman who’ll stand up to you and give you a run for your money, Walter. Admit it, once Sarah left you and started doing that, you found her a lot more fascinating.”

“True, but there’s no comparison between Sarah, even now with her newfound self-confidence, and Rory Sue. Sarah would kill you if she heard you trying to make one. Rory Sue’s like some kind of barracuda-in-training.”