Page 12 of Blue Jean Summer

“ ‘Never’ is one of those words that’ll jinx you,” Mason teased.

Her eyes narrowed on him. “Then allow me to clarify. I’m never, ever, ever getting married again. Ever.” She clasped her hands in her lap. “Now, back to taking Northern Virginia’s most eligible bachelor off the market.” Her maternal gaze turned to me. “How the hell are you going to pull this off?”

“I need to find a wife.”

“You got a girlfriend back in Maryland?” Mason asked.

“Three exes,” I said. “Two are married now. The third is best left in the past.”

“How about DC?” Hallie asked.

“I don’t shit where I eat.”

Hallie wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Any former flings in Honey Hollow that you can call up for the biggest favor known to man?”

“I don’t think my middle school girlfriend remembers me,” I quipped. “Whoever this is going to be…she can’t be just anyone. For starters, Lewis has to believe it. So does the estate’s executor. And we have to be married long enough for Lewis to drop it. She’d be in on the whole thing and would have to keep the circumstances of the marriage a secret.”

“There’s no database of eligible women down at the Moo Brew, is there?” Mason joked.

“That’d make it a hell of a lot easier,” Hallie muttered. “I can ask around, but if word gets out that you’re looking for a wife, Lewis will find out that you’re not actually engaged.”

“We need to keep this quiet,” I said. “You and Mason are the only ones who can know. Well, y’all and whoever the new Mrs. will be.”

Hallie stared vacantly at the grandfather clock as it steadily ticked away. Slowly, her expression shifted. Mason noticed too, watching as she silently worked out something in her head.

“What about Cath?” she said after the longest minute known to man.

Mason’s eyebrows lifted. “Catherine Foster? Is she still living in town?”

Hallie nodded. “Until she gets her momma’s place packed up.”

Catherine’s pale blue eyes flashed in my mind like a premonition. The way her hand had felt on my arm. The kindness in her voice at the funeral. The fondness with which she spoke of my granddad. The moment we had shared at the luncheon. Her gentle words and reassuring hand.

And she was Miss Virginia.

She fit the role for sure.

“She still lives in Honey Hollow?” I asked.

“She was living in Roanoke. Moved back a few months ago,” Hallie said with a sad sort of smile. “Her momma got real sick all of a sudden and passed quickly. Cath lived with her while she was on hospice. As far as I know, she is still closing out her affairs. I don’t know when she plans on going back to Roanoke.”

I did the math in my head. I had lost my parents as a kid, but Catherine losing her mom at twenty-five was still far too young.

“She lost her job when the nonprofit she worked for closed. She’s been job hunting but hasn’t had any luck,” Hallie continued. “She’s still Miss Virginia for a few more months and has responsibilities with that, so it makes finding something permanent hard. Chances are she’ll have to leave Honey Hollow to find something that pays well.”

“You two are close?” I guessed, recalling Catherine saying Hallie invited her to the funeral.

Granted, Hallie had been the one to organize the funeral and invite everyone.

Hallie nodded. “Small town and all that. I used to stay with her momma when Cath needed a break, and she hangs out with Zach when I need a night off.”

Catherine Foster…She had a connection to the family. We had known each other when we were kids. Sure, she was ten years younger than me, but twenty-five wasn’t that young.

She had the grace and decorum of someone who would marry into a family like the Wilders. Or at least the family that everyone saw from the outside looking in.

From the other side of the window, I was the kind of man who would marry the reigning Miss Virginia. I was the kind of man who would take the mantle as the head of the family and carry on the legacy of the estate. I was the kind of man who would be supportive of my half brother running the family’s charitable foundation.

But on the inside, it was a shit show.