Wilde for You. Dawn Atkins

that’s not who you would marry, either. You’d want a woman with spunk and attitude. Someone who would stand up to you, speak her mind, give you hell.”

      At that moment, he caught sight of Cricket Wilde making a beeline their way, a glass of pink lemonade in one hand, a big grin on her face. Speaking of someone who would give him hell.

      Though he dreaded this encounter, his heart leaped with pleasure at seeing her and he wanted to grin back. He forced a neutral expression on his face. “Listen,” he said to Anna, low. “The woman I was telling you about? The roommate of one of my girlfriends in college? She’s heading over here.”

      “The one who quizzed you about me?”

      “Yes. Don’t say a lot. She’s already suspicious.” He’d had to tell Anna enough so she would go along with his guesses about her favorites, but he’d downplayed their history.

      “Trust me, Tuck.” Anna turned casually to look at Cricket, who was barreling toward them. “Oooooh, she’s darling. You left that part out.” She gave him a look. “Very interesting.”

      “Don’t even think it,” he said.

      “This must be Julie,” Cricket said when she was close enough, giving Anna’s hand a vigorous shake. “So nice to finally meet you.”

      Tucker watched her take Anna’s measure with those laser greens of hers. He could only pray Cricket would keep her promise to stay mum about the winter kiss. That was the last thing Anna needed to know, with her mind already chewing over attraction possibilities.

      Cricket leaned close and scrutinized Anna. “Hazel,” she declared and straightened. “You were right, Tuck.”

      “Tucker told me about your quiz,” Anna said. “He did pretty well, except my pet peeve is when really tall people plop in front of you after the movie has started.”

      “Oh, yeah. I hate that,” Cricket said. “And when people crunch their popcorn like fiends during the quiet sequences.”

      “Yes, yes!” Anna said. “Like pigs at a trough. Why does being in the dark make them lose their manners?” They smiled at each other, newfound allies. No surprise, now that he thought about it. They were a lot alike.

      “So, you knew each other in college, huh?” Anna asked.

      “Uh, yeah,” Cricket said, glancing up at him. “Through my roommate and campus activities. Just passing acquaintances. So, why are you two hiding out over here? Checking for fire code violations? You never know when those crazy Thespians might plug in one too many cords, right?” At least she’d changed the subject from their past, if only to harass him.

      “What’s this?” Anna said.

      “Didn’t Tucker tell you how he ruined my rain forest?”

      “You ruined her rain forest?” Anna turned on him.

      “That wasn’t what happened.”

      “That’s exactly what happened. I had the most fabulous jungle vines hanging from the ceiling, with great trees, and he makes me yank everything down.”

      “No!” Anna said.

      “Yes. A fire code violation supposedly.”

      “It was a safety issue. And I offered to help her fix it.”

      “Couldn’t let him,” Cricket said, leaning in to stage-whisper a secret. “I didn’t want him to notice the campfire at the back. Not to mention the roast-pig pit.”

      Anna laughed an entirely too delighted laugh.

      “Trust me, Cricket,” Tucker said evenly. “If there was a fire, you would—”

      “I would thank you, right.”

      “And this hurts him more than it hurts you,” Anna added.

      “Exactly,” Cricket said, high-fiving Anna. “He wasn’t like this in college. Did this happen when he became an administrator?”

      Anna surveyed him. “I think he just wants to do the right thing. You know, be careful and conscientious. He means well.” She leaned closer to Cricket. “He has an inner rebel. If only someone would set it free…” She winked.

      Lord. Was it too soon to leave?

      “I’ll say,” Cricket said. “You should have seen him at the first staff meeting.”

      “What did I do?” Tucker asked.

      “You came on too strong with that ‘The Importance of Discipline to Student Learning’ speech. You should listen more, lecture less, Tucker. Especially when you’re new. And especially in a small town.”

      “And you’re an expert on small towns?”

      “I grew up in one. And I know people.”

      “And I don’t?”

      “Let me put it this way—if I were an administrator and I saw a new teacher with a lot of enthusiasm, I wouldn’t crush her spirit with the rule book the first chance I got. Someone less generous-minded might think you were being an ass.”

      “If I’d waited to tell you, you wouldn’t have had time to fix it before school began.”

      “You could have cut me a little slack.”

      “And you should be more careful.”

      “And what’s with the ‘older and wiser’ routine? We went to school together, Tucker.”

      “I hate to break in here,” Anna said, laughter in her voice and something dangerous in her eyes, “but why don’t you take this to the table, Tuck?” She thrust her bowl into his hands. “And bring me a plate of food, please? That would be sweet.”

      Uh-oh. These two alone would not be good. “How about if all three of us go?” he tried.

      “I trust you, darling. I’ll just be giving Cricket some tips for helping you be a better administrator. I’ll have a thigh and a couple of legs—dark meat. Potatoes, no gravy, corn no butter and iced tea, please. Sweet ’n Low, not NutraSweet.”

      On top of everything, Anna was a high-maintenance eater. He could hardly yank her away from Cricket. That would look macho and distrustful. He almost wished he’d told Harvey he was Forest’s gay life partner. It was beginning to sound safer than having Anna as his fake wife.