I shrugged. “Now and then, especially if Mason has someone playing who I want to hear. But I don’t go out that much. Reggie and I meet for dinner a couple of times a month. When Max has time, he’ll come down and cook for me, or we grab lunch since he works most nights. Other than that, I keep busy at work or, you know, puttering around the house.” I closed my eyes and steepled my fingers. “God, I sound like a total bore, don’t I? I sound like I’m eighty instead of fifty.”
Peyton laughed, tossing back her head. “Nope. I was just thinking that I’m relieved because I feel like I lead a very staid life. If I’m not at the store or with Peg or Charlie—or both of them—then I’m at home with a book or in the garden. Everything is quiet and predictable—just the way I always wanted it to be.”
I stretched one hand across and knit my fingers with hers. “Am I disrupting your quiet, predictable life, Peyton?”
She grinned. “Not yet, but I have a feeling you would. And without meaning to do it, I’d probably do the same to yours. Are we crazy, Nash?”
“If we are, I don’t want to be sane.” I nudged Peyton’s menu closer to her. “Anything on here look good to you? The burgers are great. Maybe not Rip Tide great, but dang close.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” A deep voice came from next to us as Mason himself appeared with the drinks we’d ordered earlier. “Genuine word-of-mouth promotion. Thanks, Nash.”
“I only speak the truth.” I inclined my head toward Peyton. “Peyton, this is Mason Wallace, the owner and proprietor of this fine establishment. Mason, I’d like you to meet Peyton Rivers, a long-time friend of mine from high school down in Florida.”
“Nice to meet you, Peyton.” Mason smirked at me. “So you’ve known this guy since high school, huh? Did you two, ah, reconnect at your reunion?”
Peyton blushed as I shot Mason a withering glare. “How did you hear about my high school reunion?”
“Small towns, dude. Lucie mentioned it to my wife who mentioned it to me. Rilla said you weren’t looking forward to it, but I’m guessing it turned out to be a good time after all.”
“No comment,” I replied emphatically. “I know you, and like you said—small towns. I’m not going to give you anything to share with the gossip mill.”
“Fine, fine.” Mason lifted both hands. “You two enjoy yourselves, hear? And if you need anything, just shout.”
After Mason had wandered away, Peyton regarded me with one raised brow. “This is why I live in Savannah. Sounds like Burton isn’t that different from the Cove, the way everyone knows everyone else’s business.”
“It’s not that bad,” I answered. “Folks here have good hearts, and they care about each other. I like that.”
She nodded. “That’s a good point. I’m acquainted with my neighbors in Savannah enough to wave to them or to say good morning, but I wouldn’t know to bring them a casserole if there was a loss in the family or to watch their pets if they were taking a trip. After being back in the Cove for the weekend, I realized I might miss that a little.”
One side of my mouth curled upwards. “Sounds like you’re ready to move to another small town, sweetheart.”
Peyton shook her head. “Don’t push it, mister. It’s too early to start talking like that.”
I chuckled, but I noticed that she didn’t entirely rule it out, which I decided to take as good news.
We decided to order burgers, and since Peyton couldn’t decide between two variations, we each ordered one and split them along with a plate of cheese fries. Our conversation flowed easily, just as it had at the reunion. Peyton told me stories about the customers at her store, making me laugh when she mimicked some of the women who came in to buy her creams and bath salts.
“How did you end up selling lotions and potions, anyway?” I asked her. “I know you told me it started out as a side hustle, but I don’t think you said how you actually got started.”
“Oh, well, it was a fluke, really.” She picked up a fry and nibbled on it. “When Charlie was little, I couldn’t afford any of the girly stuff that I had when I was a teenager living at home. I didn’t have a lot of time or energy, but I went to the library and looked up how to make my own bath oils and creams. I had a part-time job at a gift shop downtown at the time, and some of the girls who worked with me liked the scents I wore and asked me about them. I started making them as gifts, and then I sold a few to my co-workers. One of them had a sister-in-law who ran a local farmers’ market, and she offered me a booth. I started selling my stuff there, ended up with a pretty substantial customer base . . . and then eventually, like I told you, I bought a space in town.”
“What’s your store called?” I knew Max had told me when he’d cyber-stalked Peyton, but I wanted to hear it from her.
She laughed. “I brainstormed that for a long time with Charlie and Peg. When I first had my booth at the farmers’ market, I just called it Peyton’s Potions. But we decided that the store had to have a more universally appealing name. Charlie was the one who came up with Savannah’s Scents of Serenity.”
“That’s a cool name. I like it.”
“Thanks, I do, too. It’s worked out well for us.” Peyton stopped as the server returned to clear our table, leaving the dessert menu for us to consider.
Peyton glanced at the menu and then looked up at me. “I don’t think I could eat another bite.”
I held her gaze. “We could always enjoy dessert at my house.”
A smile ghosted across Peyton’s face. “Let’s get the check.”
Since we’d metat the Road Block tonight, Peyton and I drove separately to my house. I spent most of the drive home alternating between stressing over how the evening would go and dying to get there so we could be together alone. I felt like a kid on Christmas morning who wasn’t altogether positive he was going to get the one gift he’d been wanting for years.
I made it up the driveway first, so I was already out of the car and waiting on the front porch when Peyton eased her silver sedan to a halt and climbed out. She stood for one long moment, looking up at the house, the car door still open. Ducking back into the car, she emerged again, this time with a small black overnight bag.
