His eyes widened and he set his coffee down, stood up, and extended a hand to her. She wasn’t surprised at the vibes between them as he pulled her to her feet and hugged her tightly. “You are a genius.”

“I didn’t mean it,” she gasped. “If you really try to kill Rita, then she’ll get the girls and . . .”

“Honey, I’m not going to shoot her with a gun. I’m going to give her enough rope to hang herself. I’m going to make her sign a whole raft of documents laying out the plans if she wants to get back together with me.” Graham kissed Mitzi on the forehead.

“You mean like a pre-prenup?” she asked.

“And in the documents, it’s going to say that should we ever get serious, she agrees to the actual prenup,” he said. “That’ll surgically remove the wart forever.”

But what if it doesn’t?

“What if she’s finally figured out that she wants to be a part of a family, and she wants to try to love the girls and you?” she asked.

“Trust me, darlin’,” Graham said. “I know her, and she hasn’t changed a bit. She’s got dollar signs, not love, in her eyes.”

“I hope you’re right,” Mitzi said.

“I don’t have a single doubt in the world. Thank you so much for waiting for me and for being such a good friend. Can I help you carry anything out to the van before I get back to work?” Graham asked.

“There’s nothing heavy.” The way things were going, Mitzi thought they were more than friends. “Are we still on for Sunday?”

“Of course. Nothing has changed between us, and Mitzi, I appreciate being able to talk to you about all this more than you’ll ever know,” he said.

“That’s what friends are for,” she told him.

“I’m hoping for more than that.” He kissed her on the cheek and whistled all the way back to his truck.

A roller coaster of emotions spun through her mind: Happiness that they could possibly be more than friends. Fear that her heart would break if it didn’t work out. Worry that either or both of them were transferring the feelings they had for Dixie and Tabby into a relationship. With her mind still reeling, she took the cups of tea to her van and then went into the store to take care of business. Her thoughts were far from the bridal fair on Saturday right then. That word, prenup, kept running through her mind. If things did get serious between her and Graham, would he want her to sign one? Would that mean he didn’t trust her?

“I don’t care what he asks,” she said as she got a cart and pushed it to the customer help station to pick up the things that had been ordered. “I’d be the one insisting on it—that way he’d know that I’d be marrying him because I’d fallen in love with him, not with his money.”

Chapter Eighteen

Jody’s shoulders ached that evening. Normally, she got up every hour and at least walked around the table a few times, but today she had wanted to get the veil that she’d spent days working on done. A bride from up near Sherman would be there on Friday for her final fitting, and the veil was literally the crowning glory. The dress was a simple off-the-shoulder satin, but the chapel-length train was set on a pearl tiara. Beads were not only scattered across the whole thing, but Jody had hand beaded the lace around the edges.

While she finished the last two feet of the train, her mind had wandered back to Quincy, and she worked for three hours without standing up. She locked up the shop and was about to go upstairs to stretch out when the phone rang. Mitzi was in the bathroom. It was Paula’s turn to make supper, so Jody went back to the sewing room and picked up the receiver.

“The Perfect Dress,” she said.

“Is this Jody?”

“Yes, it is. Who’s this?” If it was someone calling about Lyle’s motorcycle, she intended to give them an earful.

“It’s Quincy. I thought I recognized your voice. I’m calling about the old trailer out on the property that I’ve bought from Lyle. He says he won’t move it because it belongs to you. What do you want me to do with it?” he asked.

“Pour gasoline on it and throw a match at it.” There were too many memories attached to the small trailer for her to want to keep the damn thing, and besides, the roof leaked. When it rained they’d had to set a bucket in the middle of the floor to catch the drip.

“You could sell it. The tires are good and—” Quincy said.

“Wait a minute,” she butted in. “Don’t do anything with it. I’ll come out there right now and hook on to it.”

“I’ll meet you there,” he said.

“I can do it all by myself,” she told him.

“It’s my property. Wouldn’t want you to steal any of my dirt,” Quincy chuckled.

“I’ll be there in half an hour,” she said.

“See you later.” He ended the call.

Paula looked up from the stove when Jody arrived in the kitchen. Mitzi was at the counter, cutting up salad greens.

“So did we have a prospective bride on the phone?” Mitzi asked.

“No, it was Quincy,” Jody said. “Y’all will have to save me some supper. I’m going out to get my travel trailer. He’s officially bought the place from Lyle and wants the old trailer gone.”