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“I’m aware, mostly because every time I offer to get her a ticket to come for a visit she comes up an excuse like bear season, or country bumpkins attacking.” I laughed and shook my head. “She’s just afraid of living in the country.”

Beth laughed again. “Which is funny since Atlanta is far more dangerous than Carson Creek.”

“Yeah, but it’s a danger she knows, and now that she’s living in the ‘burbs I’m pretty sure she’s forgotten danger is even a thing.” Except for bumpkins and bears. “So how’s business?”

“Checking up on your investment?” Her question was cheeky and playful, because that wasn’t quite the truth.

“It’s only my investment because you refused to take the place straight up.”

“It’s too much, Grady. Like I told you, when I can, I will purchase your share of the business and not a minute later. Besides, I kind of like us being business partners.”

I was the definition of a silent partner, only offering help when it was requested. “So, working on anything interesting?”

“Oh yeah. A forest green 1969 Stingray is sitting on the bay, and I can’t wait to get my hands on it. It needs a full overhaul under the hood, new leather interior and a few coats of paint, but she’s a beauty.”

“Send me photos?”

“Every step of the way,” she promised. “How goes the bar business?”

“Booming as always,” I told her and then launched into an explanation about the divorce parties. “I didn’t know it was a thing, but they’re serious money makers.”

“Only you would find a way to cash in on divorce without going to law school Grady.”

I shrugged. “What can I say? It’s a talent.”

“Don’t give me that aww shucks shrug. It may work on the ladies of Carson Creek, but it doesn’t work on me, mister.”

I shrugged again. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Bethy.”

“Don’t call me that,” she growled but her smile ruined the effect. “So tell me about this woman of yours.”

“She’s not my woman, and it’s crazy complicated.”

“Which means you’re not ready to talk about it yet.”

“Got it in one.” Things with Margot were beyond complicated, but no matter how difficult she made it, I was determined to see this through. “You plan on visiting me anytime soon?”

“Oh yeah,” she said sarcastically. “As soon as all these incredible classic cars stop winding up in my bay for ridiculous sums of money. You could come to me.”

“Maybe I will.” Visiting Beth would mean a quick trip to see my mama and then I could tell her, in person, that she was about to be a grandmother. The doorbell rang and I frowned because I hadn’t ordered any food, and the few guys I considered friends wouldn’t stop by without calling first. “Hang on Beth.”

“Don’t mute it, I want to hear your small town life!”

I grunted, but said nothing as I made my way to the door and yanked it open without looking first because this was Carson Creek and the worst I would find is a drunk patron wanting a drink. “Margot. Is everything all right?”

“Fine,” she said and smiled. “But after our last conversation I felt the need to make sure we were on the same page.”

I stood stock-still, frozen for a quick moment before I remembered myself and waved her inside. “Same page?”

She nodded and stepped in. “I want to apologize to you for being such a bitch, but I had to be, which isn’t really the point. Anyway,” she sighed and shook her head. “This isn’t about being ashamed of you Grady. I know I come off a little snobbish, but I’m not that bad, I promise. It’s just, do you know what it’s like to be a woman on the brink of fifty who got pregnant by a man half her age.”

“Half? I’m over thirty Margot.”

She nodded and waved dismissively in my direction. “Yes, thirty-two, I remember. Still, that’s a big age difference.”

“And again, it’s nobody’s damn business but ours. Why do you care so much what people think? If they are truly your friends they will be happy for you, no matter how it happened.”

“Grady,” she sighed.

“Margot who cares if you’re a cougar?”

“Cougar?” Her voice was high-pitched and full of outrage. “Did you just call me a cougar?”

“You said it yourself, you threw yourself at a man half your age.” I smiled as her face reddened and she fisted her hands at her hips.

“I said no such thing!”

“Wait. Shut the front door,” Beth’s voice sounded from the phone at my side. “You got a hot older chick pregnant? I gotta see her, lift the phone up so I can get a peek.”

My jaw clenched in irritation. “Beth, now isn’t a good time.”

“Clearly,” she laughed. “But lift the phone so I can get an intro and a look at her, and then I’ll let you go handle the complicated cougar.”

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