A wide smile spread over Harper’s lips as she stood. “Well, Evelyn, we’re just gonna have to serve them one at a time. Have the sweet potatoes arrived yet?”
“Yes,” Evelyn said, “a few minutes ago.”
Scarlett cocked her head. “Sweet potatoes?”
“I ordered them from the grocery store this morning. I figured we didn’t have time to wait for our supplier,” Harper explained.
Scarlett stood. “Good thinking. It seems we’ve got some sweet potato pies to make.”
Harper wagged a finger. “Don’t think for one minute you’re off the hook about that other thing we’ve been talking about.”
Scarlett made a face. “Whatever.”
There was something cathartic about the monotonous motions of painting the house, Rigby decided as he stepped back admiring his work. He was able to get an entire side painted today and planned to tackle the back tomorrow. After the house was done, he’d do the landscaping. It felt good to do something to help his grandmother. She was so fiercely independent and seemed to be doing just fine on her own for the most part, but Rigby could tell she’d slowed down a bit, although her reduced pace was most people’s normal. Rigby had dreaded cooling his heels in Clementine for a few weeks, but it was actually nice to be alone with plenty of time to think. Of course, he’d probably think differently about the situation come Sunday when he was watching the Titans play without him. Jeremy Givens was playing in his stead during the suspension, and while Rigby wanted the team to do well, he didn’t want Jeremy to shine too much, else he might take over his spot for good. Such thoughts weren’t productive. He needed to focus on the positive, and he needed to start training tomorrow morning. If he got up at six, he could get in a good workout before painting.
He smiled, remembering the furious look on Scarlett’s face when she fell into the paint. She was a spitfire, and he loved that about her. Of course, it could be dang frustrating too. Why couldn’t she see that the two of them were perfect together? Then again, in her defense, he’d been gone for over two years, completely out of the picture. He couldn’t expect to just step back in and have her fall into his arms. Besides, even if Rigby could persuade Scarlett to give him a second chance, he didn’t know what would happen when he went back to Tampa. Would Scarlett be willing to give up this town and her restaurant? And what about her grandfather? She couldn’t leave him. She’d not been able to leave before, why would now be any different? Tampa was a little over seven hours from here. There had to be a way to make things work. Rigby’s football career wouldn’t last forever, but he couldn’t give that up right now. If he played his cards right and kept his nose clean for the next few years, barring an injury, he’d be set for life. Of course, his career was contingent on his performance. Unless he got his head back in the game, he’d be toast. He took in a cleansing breath and let it out slowly. He was jumping ahead to the hypothetical when he couldn’t even get Scarlett to go out with him. One step at a time. Earlier, he’d gotten the feeling there was something he was missing. Scarlett was acting a little off about their past. He’d begged her to go with him to Tampa, but she flat out refused. Why did he keep getting the feeling there was something she wasn’t telling him?
Coralee came outside and stood beside him, assessing the freshly painted siding. “I like it. It’s about time this old place had a new coat of paint.” She gave him a sideways glance, and he saw a certain look in her eye that told him she was up to something.
“What’s going on?” he said carefully.
“You know, I was thinking about that sweet potato pie.”
He chuckled. “What about it?”
A playful grin curved her lips. “Any pie that goes for ten thousand dollars is worth tasting, don’t you think?” Her eyes danced. “Let’s go to The Magnolia and try a slice.”
“I can see the wheels turning in your head,” he countered, wagging a finger.
“I just want a piece of pie. You can’t fault a girl for that.”
A wave of tenderness flooded him. His grandmother was always looking after him. He voiced the question that had been rolling around in his head all morning. “Do you really think I stand a chance with Scarlett?”
She lifted her chin. “Absolutely.”
“You have to say that, you’re my grandmother.”
She gave him a steely look. “It’s because I’m your grandmother that I can say it. No one knows you any better. I know what will make you happy.”
He tipped his head. “And you really think Scarlett’s that girl?”
She cocked an eyebrow. “Don’t you?”
“Yes, I do.” It hit him—he really did think she was the one for him, but he wanted to hear why his grandmother thought she was. “Why do you think she’s the right one?”
She adjusted her shirt, composing her thoughts as she touched her glasses. “Aside from the fact that she’s beautiful and you’re highly attracted to her …”
Heat crept up Rigby’s neck. Discussing his attraction to Scarlett with his grandmother was more than a little awkward.
Sensing his discomfort, she laughed. “I know I’m an old lady, but I was young and in love once … with your grandfather.”
“Uh, I didn’t mean to be insulting.”
She dismissed his apology with a wave of her hand. “Anyway, back to what I was saying. Scarlett’s got a good head on her shoulders, and she’s grounded.” She winked. “Plus, she’s crazy about you. She’s the kind of girl who can keep your feet pointed in the right direction.”
His grandmother had been vehemently opposed to his marriage to Sadonna and urged him to take more time to get to know her. They were only engaged three short months before they stole away to Vegas to get married. If only Rigby had listened to Coralee instead of charging ahead with the union to blur out the pain of Scarlett’s rejection. He jutted a thumb. “What about Douglas? He hates my guts.”
Her face softened as she smiled. “Oh, Douglas is all prickly on the outside but a cream puff inside.”
He leaned in closer to her. “Are we talking about the same man?”
“Douglas is just looking out for Scarlett. He’ll come around. You’ll see.”
Yeah, he wasn’t too sure about that, but he didn’t want to argue with her. He pumped his eyebrows. “So about that pie …”
Her eyes twinkled. “I’m ready.” She looked him up and down. “But you need a shower.”
“Okay,” he laughed. His grandmother was one of those old-school Southern women who didn’t step foot out of the house, even to go to the grocery store, without being dressed to the nines, every hair in place. “I’m up for pie … but would you mind if we stuck around for a bit afterwards?”
“Sure, but why?”
“Because Harper called and asked if I’d come by to do a photo op to help generate interest for the restaurant.” He couldn’t stop the smile from spilling over his lips. “So, all of your psychology was wasted on me. I was planning on going to the restaurant all along.”
“Ah, I should’ve known.” She brought her hands together. “Okay, chop, chop. Go get a shower. Time’s a wasting.” She glanced toward the house next door. “And while you’re getting ready, I think I’ll just mosey over and see how Douglas is doing this morning.”
He frowned. “I really don’t know what you see in him.”
She laughed. “Like I said, prickly but soft in the center.”
“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that,” he muttered.
8
“He’s here,” Harper said breathlessly.
Scarlett nodded, straightening her shoulders, trying to control the pounding of her heart. The lunch crowd had left, thankfully. It had been chaos for a while, but they’d managed to serve everyone and didn’t run out of sweet potatoes.
Coralee stepped up, embracing her in a tight hug. “How’s it going today, dear? Harper tells me you’ve been super busy.”
“Yes, it’s been nonstop. The dinner shift might be even crazier.”
“That’s great news.”
“Yes, if we can just keep up. We’ve called in extra staff. Hopefully, they’ll all show up as planned.”
“Well, if you need an extra hand, I’m sure Rigby would be glad to help out.” She turned to Rigby whose eyes were slightly bulging.
Scarlett laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind. We may need some help with the dishes in the kitchen.”
He grinned, his blue eyes meeting hers. “Anything for you.”
A heatwave scorched over her as she cleared her throat. Rigby was wearing jeans and a smoky gray t-shirt stretched over his ripped muscles. She could see the outline of his six-pack. A quirky smile flittered over his lips when he caught her staring at him. “I hope I’m dressed appropriately. I wasn’t sure what to wear.”
Her face blared like a neon sigh. “Um, yeah, you look fine.”
Amusement lit his eyes as he chuckled. “Good to know.”
Scarlett gurgled, her throat squeezing. “I mean, what you’re wearing is perfectly fine.”
“I knew what you meant,” he said softly, holding her eyes.
The distance between them grew inestimably small as blood thrashed against her temples. Blast him for having this effect on me!
Thankfully, before Scarlett could make a complete fool of herself, Harper stepped in. “Let’s see, I was thinking we’d take the photos over here by the reception area.”
“Good idea.” Coralee pointed. “And be sure to get the magnolia arrangement in there.”
“I will. Thank you,” Harper said.
“If you kids will excuse me, I’d like to try a slice of that ten-thousand-dollar pie everyone keeps talking about,” Coralee said, winking.
Scarlett blushed again, and she could tell Rigby was getting a kick out of her discomfort.
“Okay, if the two of you will come over here,” Harper said, “and stand side-by-side, I’ll snap a few pictures.”
Panic prickled over Scarlett. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea for the two of us to be in a picture together,” she hedged.
Rigby chuckled. “Now, don’t go getting squeamish on me, Lettie,” he drawled. “The last time you tried to run away, you ended up in a tray of paint.”
“When did this happen?” Harper asked, her eyes going wide.
Scarlett shot Rigby a look that said drop dead, but he only laughed, his blue eyes sparkling like the sun on a crystal blue lake.
He grinned. “I’d love to tell you about it, Harper, but at the risk of getting my head bitten off I think I’ll remain quiet.”
Scarlett arched an eyebrow. “You do have a smidgen of sense in that blockhead.” Her breath hitched when he put an arm around her and his hard muscles press against her.
“Okay, we’re ready,” Rigby chimed.
She tried to move away, but he held her tight. “What’re you doing?”
“What does it look like? Taking a picture for the restaurant. That is what you wanted, right?”
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said smoothly.
“The only reason I’m doing this is because Harper thinks it’ll give the restaurant publicity!”
He chuckled softly. “If it’s publicity you want, well, I can think of a few other ways to get attention. Another kiss … maybe.”
A heat wave scorched through her as she tensed.
“Relax,” he murmured softly in her ear. “I don’t bite … much.”
His warm breath tickled her skin sending shivers blitzing down her spine. He smelled clean and distinctly masculine with a hint of peppermint. If only she could free herself of this intoxicating attraction she felt whenever Rigby was near.
“Okay, smile,” Harper said, snapping the picture. “That’s great. Hold still, let’s get a couple more.”
“If only Maryanne Wheatley could see us now. Oh, the things she could write in The Clementine Connection.”
Scarlett’s eyes grew big. She should’ve given Rigby a good tongue lashing for the comment, but started laughing instead. “You’re probably right.” Rigby had teased her from the time they were kids. How easy it was to fall back into old patterns.
He turned to her, his expression going serious. “So, how about the shrimp boil? Would you go with me tonight?”
She wanted to, and that shocked the fire out of her, jolting her to the core. Had she lost all self-control?
“Please say yes,” he urged, his eyes pleading.
The years between them seemed to dissipate like dew in the wake of the morning sun. It was just her and Rigby again, the way it used to be, before all the complications. A thrill shot through her as the beginnings of a slow, intimate smile tugged at his lips, making her suspect he knew what she was thinking. She’d never know how close she came to giving in. Everything changed in an instant when she caught a glimpse of Vernon. She froze.
Concern flashed in Rigby’s eyes as he touched her arm. “What’s wrong?”
Scarlett’s mouth went drier than a day-old biscuit, she swallowed hard. Rigby followed her trail of vision, the muscles in his jaw twitching.
Vernon’s features went brittle, his lips pressed into a tight slash as he stepped up to them. Only when she saw the hurt brimming in Vernon’s eyes did Scarlett realize that Rigby still had a hand on her arm. She stepped back to put distance between them as Rigby’s hand dropped to his side. “Vernon,” she said a little breathlessly, “what’re you doing here?”
“Now I know why you haven’t been answering your phone,” he said.
It was funny how fast that one comment caused her to bristle. Scarlett’s shoulders felt tight as she looked him in the eye. “Rigby was kind enough to come in today and do a few publicity shots to help the restaurant.” She motioned. “Hence Harper and the camera.”
Vernon’s mouth relaxed as he nodded. “Of course.”
Having Rigby and Vernon in the same room was the stuff nightmares were made of, and judging by Vernon’s pinched expression he was feeling the same way. Rigby, on the other hand, seemed amused by the situation as he stepped up to Vernon, an easy smile on his lips. “Hey, Vernie. It’s good to see you.” He gave Vernon a hearty handshake and patted him on the shoulder.
Scarlett cringed when she saw Vernon’s indignant expression. “It’s Vernon now,” he said through stiff lips.
Rigby sidestepped the comment with a nod of his head. “How’ve ya’ been? It’s been a long time.”
Vernon put a proprietary hand on Scarlett’s arm. “Yes, it has. Lots of changes.”
Rigby’s jaw tightened, he locked eyes with Scarlett causing her pulse to shoot through the roof. “Evidently.”
Scarlett didn’t appreciate Vernon insinuating she was his possession, nor did she like the undertones of the conversation.
A tight smile stretched over Vernon’s lips as his eyes turned a black brown. “So, how long are you in Clementine?”
“A few weeks,” Rigby said.
“That’s right.” Vernon’s voice grew musing. “I believe it’s eight, isn’t that right? At least that’s what I read to be the terms of your suspension.”
Scarlett gasped as she looked at Rigby, whose face had gone rigid. She knew that look well. It was one Rigby got the instant before he went on the rampage. He straightened to his full height, which was an inch taller than Vernon. Vernon had no idea what he was dealing with. Rigby would squash him like a fly. She glared at Vernon, trying to convey that he needed to keep his stupid mouth shut, but he only smiled benignly. “Well, it’s good to have you back in town. I know the Ladies Club much appreciated your generous donation.”
Rigby’s muscles were taut, a panther ready to pounce as a smile spread over his lips. “You’ve come a long way since high school, Vernie. Scarlett tells me you’re a highly successful doctor … saving lots of lives. And according to her, that’s much more noble than passing a ball around a field. You should be proud.”
A hysterical laugh bubbled in Scarlett’s throat as
she gulped it down before it could escape. Harper did laugh. Vernon’s face went red and he coughed like his throat was constricting.
Scarlett knew she had to do something fast or else the two men would end up in an all-out brawl, right here in the foyer of her restaurant. She flashed a sickly sweet smile. “As much as I’m enjoying this little get-reacquainted session, I have lots to get ready before the dinner shift.”
Vernon cleared his throat. “Of course. I was just coming by to tell you that I’ll pick you up at five-thirty to go to the shrimp boil.”
For some crazy reason, guilt rolled over her as she glanced at Rigby and saw the stricken look on his face. He masked it with a tight smile, eyes locking with Scarlett’s. “So, that’s how it’s gonna be, huh?” Time seemed to pause as they stood looking at each other. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to go find my grandma. Good to see you, Vernie.”
Vernon’s jaw started working like he was going to correct Rigby, but then he nodded. “Yeah, good to see you too.”
They watched as Rigby strode away.
“What is going on between you and Rigby?” Vernon demanded when Rigby got out of earshot.
She lifted her chin. “I don’t appreciate the tone of your voice.”
“And I don’t appreciate you chumming up with him,” he countered, “his hand on your arm.”
She let out a long breath. “We were taking pictures for the restaurant.” She turned to Harper. “She asked Rigby to come in, not me.”
“It’s true,” Harper said. “I did ask him. It’s good publicity for the restaurant, and we need all the help we can get.”
Vernon rubbed a hand across his jaw. “I get that, but I don’t like this thing between you and Rigby.”
Scarlett laughed, throwing up her hands. “Thing? What thing?”
“I’m not stupid, Scarlett. I see what’s happening here.” His lips vanished into a hard line as he eyed her.
“What do you want me to say, Vernon? Rigby and I have a history together.”
The Perfect Catch (Last Play Romance (A Bachelor Billionaire Companion) Book 9) Page 8
