“Good. That settles my nerves a bit, but don’t talk about my grandsons like that. Micah and Benji are just young. They’ll come around. You’ll see.”

“Sure,” I agreed, just to change the subject, but I still had my doubts. Nightmares of the two of them lounging on my couch when they were my age, watching anime reruns, woke me up in sweats at night.

“Have you seen your aunties or your cousin lately?”

“Uh, I haven’t seen auntie Mabel in a few weeks, but I saw Maxie earlier today. He picked Juneau up after book club. He said auntie Darla’s fine. She’s still datin’ the butcher.”

“My sister, the hussy.”

“Mama! Aunt Darla is not a hussy just because she’s datin’ someone. You know Jerry Fletcher is a nice man. You don’t want her to be lonely, do you?”

“Well, now, of course I don’t. It’s just a little soon, don’t you think?”

“Uncle Lou’s been gone seven years.”

Jeez. What would she say ifIdated someone? And if that someone was the little brother of my dead husband’s best friend? Even after ten years without Tommy, my mother would have a conniption fit.

Subject change number two: “How’s Dad’s arthritis treatin’ him?”

“Oh, you know him.” She sighed. “He’s in pain, but he won’t take so much as an aspirin, and he never complains. God bless him.”

“Tell him I said hi. I miss you guys. Maybe I can come for supper soon.”

“Well, that’s why I’m callin’, honey. Daddy went and booked us a Caribbean cruise. We’re headed to the Cayman Islands in two weeks! Isn’t that romantic? I can’t wait.”

I tried to hold back a groan, but damn. Even my seventy-year-old parents were getting some?

“So romantic,” I said as the jingle bell on the front door tinkled. “You can tell me all about it over your famous meatloaf soon, but I gotta go, Mama. Someone just popped into the store.”

“Okay. Call before you come, though. I’ve been wearin’ my bathin’ suit around the house to get used to it. Don’t wanna walk in on that, do ya?”

“No, ma’am.” I laughed. “I sure don’t. I’ll call. Love you.”

“Love you too. Talk later.”

When I hung up, I gave my usual greeting and spiel. “Welcome to Your Local Bookie. What kinda fictional trouble can I help you get into today?”

A low, gravelly male voice answered, “The dirty kind.”

I whipped around like my pants had caught fire, and there, standing not ten feet away, was Ryder Graves, looking devilishly handsome.

Roxi was right. His strong thighs in his jeans were downright sinful, and I could count his abs underneath his thin, gray T-shirt.Jesus.

Lack of sex in combination with those thighs, abs, and his ass made my mouth water.

I swallowed my drool and demanded, maybe a little too forcefully, “What’re you doin’ here?”

The ladies’ voices still lingered in my head, urging me to bag this cowboy, and I knew if I did, they’d be supportive, but they were the only people in my life I could count on not to judge me for sleeping with a man thirteen years my junior. I pictured Micah and Benji’s faces and the disgust and disapproval it would cause. And I could already hear my mother screaming from Jamaica or wherever she’d said they were going on their cruise. I’d already forgotten, because when Rye walked through my door, all coherent thought went out the window.

Removing his hat, he held it in one hand next to one of his extremely solid thighs, and he clicked his tongue, which of course made me imagine that tongue in places only my GYNO had seen in a very long time.

“I was hopin’ to talk to you.”

“About?”

“Um, you know. How you doin’?”

“I’m fine, Ryder. How are you?”