Nell said, "You didn't tell me she was a stripper, Slick."

"Only weekends," he said, handing Nell the beer. "Just until she gets on full-time with the airline."

Sara tried to catch his eye to tell him she wanted to get the hell out of here, but either Jeffrey had not learned to read her signs in the last few months or he was fully aware of the treatment she was getting and did not mind a bit. His shit-eating grin told her the truth of the matter.

Jeffrey threw his arm around her, dragging her close and kissing her head. It felt more like he was telling her to be a good sport than anything else, and Sara pinched the fire out of the back of his arm to let him know she was not up for that kind of play.

He winced, rubbing his arm. "Nell, can you give us a minute?"

Nell walked down the hall and went into what was probably the kitchen. Outside the open back door, Sara could see a pool in the yard with another couple sitting around in beach chairs. In the distance, a dog was barking. Possum stood behind a grill with a long fork in his hand, and he waved at them both through the screen door.

Sara said, "This detour seems a little planned to me."

"Sorry?"

She kept her voice low, mindful that Nell was probably listening. "Is this part of the indoctrination for all your new things?"

"My what?"

She indicated the kitchen. "That's what your friend called me."

To his credit, he looked annoyed. "She's just -"

"Thinking I'm one of your sluts?" Sara finished, her throat straining even as she whispered. "Because that's what she pretty much said, that I'm one of your sluts."

He tried his smile again. "Sara, honey -"

"Don't you dare call me that, you asshole."

"I didn't -"

She fought to keep her tone low. "I don't know who the hell you think you are, dragging me all the way down here below the damn Gnat Line just to embarrass me, but I don't appreciate it and you've got about two seconds to say goodbye to these people, because I'm driving back to Grant right now and I don't give a damn whether you're in the car or not."

About three seconds passed before he burst into laughter. "My God," he said. "That's more than you've said to me the entire trip."

Sara was so furious that she punched him in the shoulder as hard as she could.

"Ow," he said, rubbing the spot.

"Mr. Big Football Player can't take a hit?" She punched him again. "Why didn't you tell me you played football?"

"I thought everybody knew."

"How would I know that?" she demanded. "Rhonda at the bank?" He grabbed her hand before she could punch him again. "That slut at the sign shop?" She tried to get her hand back but he held her too tightly.

"Honey -" He stopped himself with a grin that said he was humoring her. "Sara."

"You think I don't know you've screwed practically every woman in town?"

He took on a wounded look. "They were just place-holders while I waited for you."

"You are so full of shit."

He stepped toward her, reaching out to put his hands on her waist. "Do you kiss your mama with that mouth?"

She tried to push him away, but he backed her toward the wall. Sara felt the familiar weight of his body press into her, but all she could think about was the fact that his friends were right outside the door watching. She expected him to give her a passionate kiss or make some other show of his manly prowess, followed by a victory lap around the pool and a high-five from Possum, but all he did was kiss her forehead and say, "I haven't been back here in six years."

She stared at him, mostly because his face was less than two inches away from hers.

Suddenly, the door banged open, and one of the most gorgeous men Sara had seen outside of a fashion magazine sauntered into the house. He was as tall as Jeffrey but with broader shoulders and more swagger.

When he opened his mouth, he spoke with the sexiest Southern drawl Sara had every heard. "You too scared to introduce me to your new girl, Slick?"

"Course not," Jeffrey said, slipping a proprietary arm around Sara's waist. "Honey, this is Spot. He and Possum were my best friends growing up."

"Still waiting on this one to finish," the man said, feigning a punch at Jeffrey. "And it's Robert now."

Possum called from outside, "One 'a y'all fetch me them burgers from the fridge."

Robert said, "Slick, why don't you handle that?" then took Sara by the arm and led her down the hall before Jeffrey could stop them.

Robert opened the screen door for Sara, asking, "How was your trip over?"

"Good," she told him, though that was debatable. She cast about for something positive to say. "My God, what a gorgeous yard."

Possum beamed. "Nell loves being outside."

"It shows," Sara said, meaning it. Lush flowers bloomed all over the place, spilling out of pots on the deck, climbing up the wooden fence. A huge magnolia tree shaded a hammock at the back of the yard, and several holly trees added contrast to the fence line. Except for the barking dogs next door, the yard was an oasis.

"Whoa," Robert said, bumping into her as the dog shot past them.

"Tig!" Possum yelled halfheartedly as the dog dove into the pool. She swam a lap across, climbed out, then rolled around in the grass, kicking her legs in the air.

"Man," Possum said. "What I wouldn't do for that life."

The woman sitting by the pool looked over her shoulder. "She learned everything from Jeffrey." She indicated the chair beside her. "Come sit by me, Sara. I'm not as horrible as Nell."

Sara gladly took the offer.

"Jessie," the woman introduced herself. She indicated Robert with a lazy wave of her hand. "That specimen's my husband." She pronounced the word "huzz-bun," managing with her tone to make it sound slightly pornographic.

Sara offered, "He seems nice."

"They all do at first," she said offhandedly. "How long have you known Slick?"

"Not long," Sara confessed, wondering if everyone here had a nickname. She was getting the distinct impression that Jessie was probably worse than Nell. She was just more polite about it. Judging by the woman's breath, a liberal dose of alcohol was responsible for her mellow tone.

"They're all a tight little group," Jessie commented, leaning over to pick up a glass of wine. "I'm new in town, which means I've only been here twenty years. I moved from LA during my freshman year."

Sara guessed from her accent she meant Lower Alabama.

"Robert's a cop, just like Jeffrey. Isn't that nice? I call 'em Mutt and Jeff, only Jeffrey hates being called Jeff." She took a healthy swallow of wine. "Possum runs the store over by the Tasty Dog. You should meet his and Nell's children, especially the oldest. He's a beautiful little boy. Children are such a joy to have around. Isn't that right, Bob?"

"What's that, sugar?" Robert asked, though Sara was certain he had heard her.

Nell sat down beside Sara, handing her a bottle of beer. "Peace offering," she said.

Sara took it, though beer had always tasted like swill to her. She forced herself to make an effort, saying, "You've got a beautiful yard."

Nell inhaled deeply, then exhaled, "The azaleas bloomed and went away quicker than spit. Neighbor's never home to take care of his dogs so they bark all day. I can't get rid of the fire ants by the hammock and Jared keeps coming in with poison ivy, but for the life of me, I can't figure out where he's getting it." She paused for another breath. "But thank you. I try."

Sara turned to include Jessie in the conversation, but the other woman's eyes were closed.

"She's probably passed out." Nell fanned herself with her hand. "God, I was such a bitch to you."

Sara did not argue.

"I'm not normally so testy. If Jessie was awake, she'd tell you otherwise, but you can't trust a woman who drinks a whole bottle of wine before four in the afternoon, and I'm not just talking on Sundays." She swatted a fly. "She tell you about being new here?"