Good Husband Material. Susan Mallery

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      Kari walked inside her grandmother’s house and stood in the main parlor. Never a living room, she thought with a smile. It was a parlor, where people “set” when it wasn’t nice enough to settle on the front porch. She remembered countless hours spent listening to her grandmother’s friends talking about everything from who was pregnant to who was cheating on whom.

      She’d arrived after dark last night. She hadn’t turned on many lights after she’d come in, and somehow she’d convinced herself that the house was different. Only now, she saw it wasn’t.

      The old sofas were the same, as was the horsehair chair her grandmother had inherited from her grandmother. Kari had always hated that piece—it was both slick and uncomfortable. Now she touched the antique and felt the memories wash over her.

      Maybe it was the result of all the emotions from the robbery, maybe it was just the reality of being home. Either way, she suddenly sensed the ghosts in the house. At least they were friendly, she told herself as she moved into the old kitchen. Her grandmother had always loved her.

      Kari looked at the pecan cabinets and the stove and oven unit that had to be at least thirty years old. If she expected to get a decent price for the old place, she would have to do some serious updating. That was the reason she’d come home for the summer, after all.

      A restlessness filled her. She hurried upstairs and changed out of her clothes. After showering, she slipped on a cotton dress and padded back downstairs barefoot. She toured the house, almost as if she were waiting for something to happen.

      And then it did.

      There was a knock on the door. She didn’t have to answer it to know who had come calling. Her stomach lurched and her heart took up that thundering hoof dance again. She drew in a deep breath and reached for the handle.

      Chapter Two

      Gage stood on Kari’s front porch. She didn’t bother pretending to be surprised. Her time with him in the bank had been too rushed and too emotionally charged for her to notice much about his appearance…and how he might have changed. But now that they were in a more normal situation, she could take the time to appreciate how he’d filled out in the years she’d been away.

      He looked taller than she remembered. Or maybe he was just bigger. Regardless, he was very much a man now. Still too good-looking for her peace of mind. He appealed to her, but, then, he always had.

      “If you’re inviting me to attend another bank robbery,” she said with a smile, “I’m going to have to pass.”

      Gage grinned and held up both hands. “No more crime…not if I can prevent it.” He leaned against the door frame. “The reason I stopped by was to make sure that you were all right after all the excitement today. Plus, I knew you’d want to thank me for saving your life by inviting me to dinner.”

      She tilted her head as she considered him. “What if my husband objects?”

      He didn’t even have the grace to look the least bit worried. “You’re not married. Ida Mae keeps track of these things, and she would have told me.”

      “Figures.” She stepped back to allow him inside. Gage moved into the front room while she closed the door behind him. “What makes you think I’ve had time to go to the grocery store?” she asked.

      “If you haven’t, I have a couple of steaks in the freezer. I could get those out.”

      She shook her head. “Actually, I did my shopping this morning. That’s the reason I ran out of cash and had to go get more at the bank.” She frowned. “Come to think of it, I never did cash that check.”

      “You can do it tomorrow.”

      “I guess I’ll have to.”

      She led the way into the kitchen. Having him here was strange, she thought. An odd blending of past and present. How many times had he come over for dinner eight years ago? Her grandmother had always welcomed him at their table. Kari had been so in love that she’d been thrilled he’d wanted to spend mealtimes with her. Of course, she’d been young enough to be excited even if all he wanted was for her to keep him company while he washed his car. All she’d needed to be happy was a few hours in Gage’s presence. Life had been a whole lot simpler in those days.

      He leaned against a counter and sniffed. “That smells mighty good. And familiar.”

      “Grandmother’s sauce recipe. I put it in the slow cooker this morning, right after I got back from the grocery store. I also got out the old bread maker, but as it’s been gathering dust forever, I can’t promise it’ll all work.”

      His dark gaze settled on her. “It works just fine.”

      His words made her break out in goose bumps, which was crazy. He was a smooth-talking good-ol’ boy from Possum Landing. She lived in New York City. No way Gage Reynolds should be able to get to her. And he didn’t. Not really.

      “Did you get all the paperwork wrapped up, or whatever it was you had to do after the robbery?” she asked as she checked on the pasta sauce.

      “Everything is tied up in a neat package.” He crossed to the kitchen table and picked up the bottle of wine she’d left there.

      “Kari Asbury, is this liquor? Have you brought the devil’s brew into our saintly dry county?”

      She glanced up and chuckled. “You know it. I remembered there weren’t any liquor sales allowed around here and figured I had better bring my own. I stopped on my way over from the airport.”

      “I’m shocked. Completely shocked.”

      She grinned. “So you probably don’t want to know that there’s beer in the refrigerator.”

      “Not at all.” He opened the door and pulled out a bottle. When he offered it to her, she shook her head.

      “I’ll wait for wine with dinner.”

      He opened the drawer with the bottle opener in it on the first try. Gage moved around with the ease of someone familiar with the place. But then, he had been. He’d moved in next door, the spring before her senior year. She remembered watching him carry in boxes and pieces of furniture. Her grandmother had told her who he was—the new deputy. Gage Reynolds. He’d been in the army and had traveled the world. To her seventeen-year-old eyes, a young man of twenty-three had seemed impossibly grown-up and mature. When they’d started dating that fall, he’d seemed a man of the world and she’d been—

      “Are we still neighbors?” she asked, turning back to face him.

      “I’m still next door.”

      She thought of Ida Mae’s comment that Gage had never made it to the altar. Somehow he’d managed to not get caught. Looking at him now, his khaki uniform emphasizing the breadth of his shoulders and the muscles in his legs, she wondered how the lovely ladies of Possum Landing had managed to keep from trapping him.

      Not her business, she reminded herself. She checked the timer on the bread machine and saw there was still fifteen minutes to go, plus cooling time.

      “Let’s go into the parlor,” she said. “We’ll be more comfortable.”

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