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The levity helped, and she had to choke back a laugh.

Then Mark opened his mouth. “Another one, Molly? How many lovers do you have?”

It wasn’t even worth addressing. “Why are you even still in town?”

“We still have a lot to talk about.”

“No, we don’t.” She turned to Adam. “Can you get me a restraining order against him?”

Adam nodded. “First thing in the morning.”

“Oh, you’d love that, wouldn’t you?” Mark snapped. “It’s not enough that I can’t get a decent meal or a place to stay in this town?”

Confused, she looked at Adam.

He merely shrugged a shoulder. “A lot of folks have taken exception to some of Mr. Lane’s comments and behavior. Many of the local businesses are exercising their right to refuse service.”

It took everything she had to keep a straight face, but inside . . .
Oh, that was just too sweet.
She could picture Mark being turned away from places, stomping his feet and getting all bothered.

That giddiness, though, was quickly replaced by a surge of emotion that made her eyes burn. Mark was being turned away because of
her.
This was
her
town,
her
people, and they had her back. She might have screwed up, and they might be disappointed in her, but by God, they still had her back. Mark, her family, and Fuller, Alabama, as a whole could just suck it. “Maybe you should take that as a sign that you’re not welcome here. Go home.”

“Oh, I am. But I wanted to give you one last chance—”

“I don’t want it.”

“I’m glad you feel that way.” His smile was smug, and that warned her she wasn’t going to like what came next. “I’ve always wanted a coffee shop.”

There was no way she heard that right.
“What?”

“We’re still married. I’m entitled to half of it in a divorce settlement.”

Rage boiled through her veins. “You’re insane.” Adam put a hand on her—to calm or restrain, she didn’t know, and she didn’t care either way as she shook him off. “
My
inheritance from
my
grandmother provided the seed money for Latte Dah. You can’t lay claim to a single freaking coffee cup.”

“You left a loving marriage, selling joint marital property to move away with your lover—or lovers”—he sneered—“supporting yourself with the proceeds of those sales while you opened your business.
That
gives me a claim. My lawyer will be in touch.”

This time, Adam’s restraining hand was the only thing that kept her from flying at him. Mark merely smirked, pleased to have the last word, as he climbed back into his car and drove away.

“I’ll burn the place to the ground first,” she muttered.

“Calm down,” Adam urged. “That’s the most ridiculous claim I’ve ever heard. He won’t get any part of Latte Dah.”

“Oh, I know he can’t touch it. My inheritance is mine and was never part of the joint assets. The only property I sold was jewelry purchased for and given to me. I’ve read the laws about joint marital assets, and I know I’m in the clear. It’s just another threat and more stupid paperwork to fight, though. But that’s the final damn straw. I’m done. He will
not
threaten Latte Dah.”

She turned to face him. Still buoyed by the day’s events, she felt stronger than she ever had. But Mark’s petty, vindictive threats had also made her angrier than she’d ever been.

“It’s time to end this,” she said through gritted teeth. “Find me a lawyer who’ll make it happen.”

“One that can make him cry?” Adam teased.

She stomped up the porch steps. “That would just be a bonus.”

Chapter 16

T
he worst thing about living in a small town was that it was damn near impossible to avoid someone. Short of locking yourself in and becoming a hermit, if your paths crossed before, the odds were very good they would cross again. And again.

While creating uncomfortable situations, those odds did tend to keep things from festering too long. There was no ignoring a problem until it went away.

But the fact that this
wasn’t
happening—which had to be a first in Magnolia Beach—was making Tate tense and jumpy. He knew Molly was going about her business—Sam or Helena would have told him if Molly wasn’t—but he never saw her. After a couple of days, he had to assume it was deliberate. At the same time, he wasn’t exactly wandering into Latte Dah for a coffee, either. He wasn’t quite sure yet what he wanted to say to Molly when he did see her, so while it was odd, it was also sort of a relief.

It was also amazing to realize how quickly he’d gotten used to a new status quo in just a couple of weeks. Fun texts for no reason, having someone to go to lunch or dinner with, and yes, wandering into Latte Dah for a coffee just because he wanted to see her. The depressing thing was how much he noticed that lack now and
how much he disliked it. There was a hole, and he had nothing to fill it with.

The thing was, that hole had always been there; he just hadn’t noticed it until now.

He wasn’t sure how to fix it, though. And since thinking about the situation made his head hurt, he kept himself extra busy simply to avoid having to think about it.

Helena hadn’t been hovering exactly, but she’d made herself very available. It was clear she wanted to talk to him, and he’d made it very clear that he didn’t, so they’d spent the last few days in an awkward standoff. She might be his best friend, but he wasn’t going to eat cookie dough and talk about relationships and girls and boys. That had never been their style and he had no interest in starting now.

So the days passed in what felt like an uneasy cease-fire, which was a crazy feeling since life had essentially gone back to its normal pre-Molly state almost instantly.

And that was another reason he didn’t want to talk to Helena. He blamed her for this.
She’d
started it all by throwing him into Molly’s orbit in the first place. If she’d left well enough alone, he wouldn’t even have a pre – and post-Molly state of being to deal with at all.

So Molly was mad at him for being mad at her, Helena was mad at him for not wanting to talk about it, and Sam was mad at him for a multitude of reasons. At least Iona was happy with him again. She’d brought him
two
kinds of cookies.

He knew, though, that Helena wasn’t going to put up with his silence for very long, so he wasn’t really all that surprised to find her on his porch, unannounced and letting herself in like she owned the place after just a few days. She was not known for her patience—or her ability to butt the hell out, either. He was only delaying
the inevitable by avoiding her, so they might as well get this over with.

And Helena was not one to mince words.

“I’ve held my peace, given you space and all that, but enough. I love you—you know that—but you’re acting like a dumbass.”

Only in Helena’s mind could four days be considered “space.” “And the space has been much appreciated. Could I have a little more?”

“No. This is ridiculous. If you ask me—”

“I didn’t,” he reminded her.

She frowned at him, but she wasn’t backing down. “I’m not taking sides.”

“Dumbass pronouncements notwithstanding, of course.”

She met his sarcasm with snark. “I had no idea your ego was quite that fragile.”

“My
ego
?” This had nothing to do with ego.

“So you were embarrassed. Are you honestly going to tell me it was worse than that time in tenth grade when you—”

“
Don’t
bring that up. You swore you’d never speak of it again.”

Her lips pressed into an angry line as she stared at him. “Well, is it?” she demanded.

On days like today, he wished she’d just stayed in Atlanta. “It’s different, Helena, and has nothing to do with this situation. You’re forgetting that I was publicly broadsided by information I really should have known going in.”

“She said she tried to explain—”

“She’s married.”

“She’s separated. Almost divorced.”

Good Lord.
“You’re as bad as she is with the hairsplitting.”

Helena slapped a hand against the couch. “He
hit
her.”

Jesus.
Molly had left that part out. Or glossed it over, at the very least. It made him ill, and not just because Molly was about half Mark’s size. “I’m not saying she shouldn’t be divorcing him. It’s just information she could have—
should
have—shared up front.”

She sighed. “I agree with you about that—”

“Then maybe you see my problem.”

Pinning him with a stare, she asked, “Would it have made a difference?”

Probably not
. That was the one conclusion he’d managed to reach over the last couple of days. Now that the initial knee-jerk reaction to the word “married” had passed, he found his moral compass might not be as finely tuned as he’d thought. It might have taken him a little time to wrap his head around it, but he probably wouldn’t have done anything differently. He just should have been given the option.

But he was apparently taking too long to respond, so Helena drew her own conclusions. “You’re a good man, Tate Harris—maybe one of the best—but this isn’t a black-and-white situation.”

Only where it mattered. She hadn’t trusted him with the truth. “All the more—”

“But,”
she continued, with a glare in his direction, “why don’t you at least try to understand
why
she didn’t share?”

He wanted to strangle her. “I understand that just fine, too. I don’t particularly like it, and it doesn’t make it right, but I do understand it.”

“Then what is the problem?”

He sighed.
Bring on the cookie dough.
“She lied. She didn’t trust me enough to tell me the truth, so she lied.”

Helena nodded. “So that’s the stick up your butt.”

So much for sharing our feelings.
“Wow, Helena. You’re trying to pick a fight, aren’t you?”

She cleared her throat. “I’m really not. That just came out harsher than intended.”

“There’s a nice interpretation of that statement?”

“I just think you’re trapped in the ‘she lied’ and ignoring the ‘
why
she lied.’ And I don’t think it had much to do with trust. If she was worried you might not react kindly to the news she was married—well, it looks like she was proven right there.”

That wasn’t it at all. He knew why she lied. He couldn’t get past the fact she felt she
needed
to. He wasn’t sure Helena could be made to see that difference, though. So he didn’t say anything at all. He’d rather be thought a jerk—but at least a jerk with strong morals and a grasp of right and wrong—than be exposed as someone his nearest and dearest didn’t think they could trust or rely on.

Helena looked at him carefully. “You care about her, right?”

He could lie or even just brush off the question, but what was the sense? “Yeah.”

“And I know you went to Adam.”

He shrugged. “I’m actually surprised you didn’t.”

“I did. I just didn’t think of it as quickly as you did.” She sounded almost disappointed with herself. “I’m sure she’s glad you thought of it, though. Adam seems to think things should start happening now, at least.”

“Which she could have had happening ages ago if she’d just been honest.”

Helena sighed. “You’re going to have to let that go.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re thirty-one years old and pouting isn’t attractive.”

“I’m not pouting. I’m pissed. There’s a difference.”

Exasperated, Helena slumped back in her chair.
“Well, keep it up, and you’ll lose her permanently. Hell, you might have already.”

Enough was enough. “Look, I appreciate what you’re trying to do, and I know you mean well. But butt the hell out.” Helena had started to smile, but that last statement wiped it off her face. “This is my business, and I’ll thank you to leave me to it.”

“You’re a hard man, Tate. More so than I thought. But if that’s how it is, fine. Be mad. Choose that over a wonderful girl who cares about you and makes you happy. I’m sure your ego is a lot of fun to snuggle with at night.” Now he’d really pissed her off.
Great.

Sighing heavily and muttering under her breath, she grabbed her stuff. At the door, she stopped and turned. “I’m not taking sides. Really I’m not. I think you both screwed up, and I hate that you’re not together. But Molly needs support right now, and I’m going to give it to her. I’m not going to choose between the two of you.”

He levered himself off the couch. “You don’t have to. I know you love me. Even when you’re being an nosy, harpy buttinsky.”

“That’s
why
I’m a nosy, harpy buttinsky.” Her mouth twisted, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. Quietly, she added, “I just want you to be happy. You deserve it.”

“I know.” He returned the squeeze and let her leave with a wave. It was impossible for him to stay mad at Helena for very long. They had too much history for that—and too much dirt on each other to become enemies.

They’d get past it. They always had.

He just didn’t have that same assurance it would work out with Molly.

•   •   •

Molly’s legs were burning and she had a stitch in her side. She was very out of shape, which was all the more
reminder why she needed to run in the first place and how long it had been since she’d done it last.

If she wanted a silver lining, this one would have to do: all that time in her schedule that she’d cleared out to be with Tate was suddenly empty, giving her time to run again.

It was the crappiest silver lining ever.

Of course, the hope was that endorphins would make her feel better. Plus, she was running off some of the frustration and anger, and she really needed the exercise, too. All good things.

It still sucked.

It also had the unfortunate side effect of giving her far too much time to think. She’d used her runs in the past as time to sort out problems—personal and professional—and her mind hadn’t forgotten that habit. Pity.

At first, she’d been miserable, mopey and blaming herself. Then she’d gotten mad. And while anger helped carry her through her days, it didn’t make this hurt any less.