Three Little Words. Susan Mallery

      “I’m not most people.”

      “That’s obvious.”

      His voice was gentle and slightly admiring, so she guessed he meant the comment as a compliment.

      “I can’t do algebra,” she admitted.

      “Yeah, and you could so kick my ass.” He leaned toward her. “Seriously? I intimidate you?”

      “Why is that so hard to believe?”

      “Have you looked in the mirror?”

      As soon as he said the words, his expression tightened. As if he regretted them.

      She glanced down at the dress she’d put on. A dress! So humiliating and girlie. But she’d worn it deliberately, and she’d left her hair down after curling it. All in the hopes she would see Kent.

      “I don’t come from a great neighborhood,” she told him. “I’ve spent my career in the military. I’m as good with a firearm as any sniper and I can open most combination locks in less than a minute.”

      His eyes widened. “Okay. That’s impressive.”

      “Maybe from the outside, but I’m nothing like you. You have a great family and a regular job. You’re a nice guy.”

      “Nice guy. Great.” He turned away.

      She touched his arm. “No. Nice is good. Nice is the goal.” She paused. “I thought, if you want, maybe we could get to know each other.”

      Relief filled his eyes. “Yeah? Sure. That would be great.” He grinned. “What do you want to know? You’ve already heard about my family. Ford would have told you stuff.” He frowned. “Whatever he said about me when I was a kid isn’t true. You have to believe me on that.”

      She laughed, relaxing just a little. “He hasn’t said anything bad.”

      “I know that’s not true.” He leaned back on the bench and stretched out his arm along the back. His fingers were only a few inches from her shoulders. Were he anyone else, she would assume he was trying to touch her or make a move. She had a feeling Kent didn’t operate that way.

      “What do you think about Fool’s Gold?” he asked.

      “I like it a lot. I wasn’t sure at first. I’ve never been anywhere like this.”

      “It’s not Afghanistan.”

      “How did you know I’d been to Afghanistan?” she asked.

      “I didn’t. I thought I was making a joke. Why, were you there?”

      She shook her head. “I can’t say.”

      He studied her for a second. “Okay. Let’s talk about this town. Festivals, tourists. Not very exciting.”

      “I like that. I’m ready for calm and quiet.” She tilted her head. “Ford mentioned you’d recently moved back yourself.”

      “A couple of years ago. I’d been divorced awhile and wanted a change.”

      “Why a math teacher?”

      His smile was self-deprecating. “I’m a nerd. I can’t help it. I like math and science, but I wasn’t brilliant enough for anything theoretical. I thought about engineering, but after a couple of classes, I knew it wasn’t my thing.” He shrugged. “I like being around kids. I like the look on their faces when they figure out something difficult.”

      “You’re the teacher they’re going to remember twenty years from now,” she said.

      “I hope so. You know anything about dogs?”

      She smiled. “I know what they are, but I’ve never had one.”

      “Carter, Reese’s friend, got a German shepherd puppy. Now Reese wants one. I’m not sure we’re ready for a puppy. We already have a dog—Fluffy.” He held up his hand. “I didn’t name her.”

      Her smile broadened. “Fluffy?”

      “My sister is responsible for that. Fluffy was in training to be a therapy dog, but she flunked out. We took her, but she was close to a year when we got her. Now Reese thinks it would be cool to have a puppy. I’m less sure.”

      “I know Felicia is taking their puppy into the office, but it’s not a school. She has more flexibility.”

      “Felicia is Carter’s stepmom, right?”

      Consuelo nodded. The sky was bright blue, the air warm. Kent wore a T-shirt over jeans. Sunlight brought out hints of brown in his dark hair.

      She liked the way he smiled and the shape of his mouth. She liked how he seemed to relax as they talked and the way he kept his gaze on her eyes. Okay, every now and then he checked her out, but she was okay with that. Mostly she liked that she didn’t have to try to be something other than who she was.

      She wondered what would happen if she kissed him. Just leaned over and—

      She drew back. What was she thinking? In Middle America, women didn’t go around kissing men they’d barely met. It didn’t work like that. There were supposed to be dates first, and the guy did the asking. She had a feeling Kent was way more traditional than she was used to and she doubted he would appreciate her taking charge.

      She couldn’t do this. Couldn’t be like everyone else. She didn’t know how, didn’t understand the rules.

      She found herself wanting to hit something. An hour with a heavy bag would go a long way to making her feel better. Or maybe she could run a quick ten miles.

      Not wanting to have to apologize for questionable behavior a second time, she reminded herself to smile pleasantly as she rose.

      “This has been really fun,” she said, hoping she sounded genuine. “I need to, uh, go meet a friend. Enjoy the festival.”

      Kent looked confused, but he stood when she did and didn’t try to stop her. “Sure. It was nice to see you.”

      She walked away as quickly as she could. Her eyes burned, but she told herself it was just allergies. There was no way she was getting emotional over a man. Not now, not ever.

      * * *

      “YOU’RE BEING CRITICAL,” Charlie complained as she picked up a French fry.

      “I’m not,” Patience told her. “I’m just saying last year was more emotional.” She turned to the rest of the table. “Last year after the parade, Annabelle was doing the special horse dance and then she was going to cut out the sacrifice’s heart. She thought it was Clay, because he’d volunteered, only it was Shane and he told her he loved her and proposed.” She glanced back at Charlie. “You just pretended to cut out Clay’s heart.”

      “We kissed,” Charlie grumbled. “Fine. Hers was better.”

      Isabel laughed along with everyone else. She’d missed much of the festival. Saturdays were busy at the bridal shop. She’d managed to spend a little time there on Sunday but had also wanted to catch up on the store’s books.

      Noelle looked at her. “You okay? You’re quiet.”

      “I’m thinking,” she admitted. Mostly about Ford. The man made her insane with his suggestions. But even more annoying, now she felt guilty for telling him no.

      She realized everyone was looking at her.

      “About what?” Felicia asked, then bit her lower lip. “Am I not supposed to inquire? Is this one of those times when as a woman I should wait for my friend to offer the information or a time when I’m supposed to prod her into telling?”

      “Wait,” Charlie said.

      “Prod her,” Noelle, Consuelo and Patience said at the same time.

      Felicia nodded at Charlie. “You’re