Staying For Good (Most Likely To #2)

“That may be . . . but you were the girl next door who was determined to take second place and make it her own. Your friend Luke was right, sweetie. If you don’t believe me, I’ll put out a few calls and let some of our network friends know you’re looking for bigger and better avenues. Slaving away in Nahana can’t be good for your complexion.”

“It’s a great position.”

“It’s a stepping stone.”

“They pay me well.”

“So does my producer, but if you asked for more, he’d pay. Don’t tell him I told you that!” he quickly added.

Zoe looked down at her foil wrapped tacos and started to open one. “Thanks, Felix.”

“Anytime.” He leaned in again. “And if you ever decide to relocate, do it outside of this damn state. I’m sick of wearing cowboy boots.”

She glanced down at his loafer-clad feet.





Chapter Twelve




“Mel picked a date.”

“Well, don’t keep me in suspense.” Luke sat over an open bucket of fried chicken in Wyatt’s backyard.

“Last weekend in August.”

“That’s only three months from now.”

“I know. But if we wait any longer, the window for an outdoor wedding at Miss Gina’s fades. Hope is out of school and can go down to the bay area with my parents while we honeymoon.”

“And where are you guys going?”

“I have no idea.”

Luke bit a chunk out of a chicken leg and waved the bone in the air. “When do you want the bachelor party and who do you want me to invite?”

“You’re still thinking Vegas?”

“I am. I’ll talk to Zoe and coordinate.”

“I think bachelor parties aren’t supposed to involve the bride.”

“It won’t. We’ll be on one side of the strip and the girls will be on the other. Outside of getting there, we probably won’t see them at all.”

Wyatt frowned. “What if I wanna get laid?”

“Then you sneak out like me and hook up with your woman without telling anybody.”

That had Wyatt smiling. “How is everything with you and Zoe?”

“Strange. We talk every night, text during the day. Feels like I’m a kid again.”

“So you plan to see her in Vegas?”

“I plan on all kinds of things.”

“Oh?”

Luke put the chicken down and wiped his hands on the napkin on the table. “I’m going to Texas next week.”

“That’s going to get expensive in a heartbeat.”

Luke thought about the interviews he had set up. “I’m thinking about moving.”

Wyatt stopped his hand midway to his beer. “To Texas?”

He shrugged. “I’m going to see what’s out there.”

“But you have a home here, a job with your dad.”

“Aww, Wyatt . . . I didn’t know you cared so much.”

Wyatt rolled his eyes. “This is all about Zoe.”

“Zoe started it. I won’t deny that. I’ll be thirty in September . . .”

“And?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t done a whole lot with my life.”

Wyatt sat back, ran his fingers over the condensation on his longneck beer. “I hear ya. I knew I didn’t want to live in the city. When I found River Bend, I knew this was where I needed to be. If you’ve only ever been here, you might not know you belong.”

“I’m trying not to overthink . . . go with my gut.”

“And your gut is pointing toward Texas?”

“My gut is pointing toward Zoe.” Something he never considered denying.

“Are you sure that’s your gut talking?”

“I felt like I was in stagnant water before Zoe and I got back together. I’ve never hated my work, or this town. Still can’t say I do . . . but with her back in my world, it just feels fuller. She’s a pretty big thing out there.”

“Doesn’t mean she can’t come to you,” Wyatt said.

“I’m not so full of myself to think I can’t consider going to her.”

“Wow, you’ve given this a lot of thought.”

Luke shrugged. “No, I’ve just given it some thought. I’m going to Texas to consider other options.”

“I’d hate to see you leave, but I get it.”

He didn’t think asking Zoe to return was an option. “So, Vegas . . .” Luke changed the subject.

They decided a mid-July trip would give everyone time to play and plan. If the women didn’t think it would work, they vowed to keep the date anyway. They were six beers in when they made their dedication, and both knew they’d change their tune if two of the three guarantee players backed out.

Luke walked home, not willing to test Jo’s friendship after drinking with Wyatt most of the night.

It was going to be a hard enough week for one of his best friends.

The anniversary of Jo’s father’s death fell on the week of the annual high school reunion for the second year in a row. He made a mental note to be around to help her get drunk or stay sober. Whatever she needed.

He flipped on the lights and opened the window in his kitchen. He didn’t need another beer, but he grabbed one anyway. He rang Zoe’s cell phone, knowing she’d be just walking in the door after a late shift.

“Hey, baby.”

“Richard?”

For a minute, he paused. “That was mean.”

Zoe laughed.

“I’ll get you for that.”



Jo stood on the sidelines of the annual high school reunion, watching the familiar ritual of perpetual lying.

“You haven’t changed a bit.”

“You look better than when we were kids.”

“I made a killing on the stock market.”

No one made a killing on any stock market in years. Yeah, the bullshit factor ran high when the alumni tried to impress their old friends.

Jo’s eyes scanned the crowd, determined to see something out of the ordinary.

“What has your attention so keenly focused, Sheriff?”

Jo jumped when Luke walked up from behind her. “Sneaking up on an armed woman isn’t wise, Miller.”

Luke gave her a wink and a grin. “You wouldn’t shoot me. I fix your car.”

“Ha!” She willed her pulse back to normal and turned her attention to the high school gym.

“Seriously, Jo . . . what’s up?”

She didn’t want to talk about how she’d been keeping an eye on any and all alumni who trickled through town in hopes of finding some clue as to who was responsible for her father’s death. She was convinced that if anyone had information, it wasn’t someone who still lived in River Bend. So watching the town visitors had become the norm for her every year.

Instead of saying anything to Luke, she kept up with the half-truths being passed around the graduates of a decade past. “I’m wondering which of these yahoos are responsible for the toilet paper dripping off my trees this year.”

Luke’s slow chuckle turned into a full-blown laugh.

“It’s not funny.”

“Sure as hell is. Looks like whoever did it managed an even better job than last year.”

She’d woken up that morning with a sea of white flowing down from every tree in her yard. Seemed the reunion at River Bend High was accompanied by TPing the sheriff’s house for the second year in a row.

“Took nearly six months for some of that crap to get out of the pine tree last year,” she mumbled.

Luke scanned the crowd. “I don’t see any suspicious toilet paper sticking out of anyone’s back pocket, Jo. You might just have to stay up late next year to catch the culprit.”

Problem was, the previous year the toilet paper slaughter of her front yard had taken place the night of the reunion, and this time it had happened the day before.

“What is the sentence for toilet papering a front yard these days, Sheriff? Fifteen to life?”