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to the inventory list, scanning the letters and numbers that correspond with the boxes. I don’t know how I’ll fit it all in my store. Heck, I’m not even sure if I can lift some of these pieces. Maybe I do need Chad’s help after all…

Taking out a long, glass necklace, I study the F stamp on the white-gold band in the center. It’s a 1930s Fouquet glass necklace, and it’s probably worth fifteen thousand dollars. It’s the perfect gift for Aunt Regina. It’ll help her remember her older brother, and it’ll be a thank you for always taking care of me.

I slip it under the counter to wrap before returning to the box. I lift out a large pink vase with white hobnails covering the body and the signature ruffled top lip. It’s Fenton art glass, and I can’t help wondering if Spencer might have included a note.

I’m digging around when a familiar male voice makes my heart jump. “Daisy? Is that you?”

Spinning around, my breath catches. “Travis Walker?”

My eyes quickly run from his dark hair to his thin lips. He’s wearing a black tee that reveals the tattoos of snakes and fallen angels covering his long, slim arms all the way down to the tops of his hands.

“I never expected to see you again.”

“Daisy May.” His voice is scratchy sandpaper, and he smiles that wicked grin, showing off straight white teeth. I catch a glint of gold on the left side. That’s new.

I can’t decide if I’m curious or mad he’s back—I guess I’m a little bit of both. “The last time I saw you, you said this town was too boring for you.”

His square chin drops, and he chuckles. “God, I was such an asshole.”

“Yes, you were.”

His blue eyes cut up to mine from under that lowered brow, and I remember why I gave him the time of day. Travis Walker is a sexy as fuck asshole. He’s the worst kind of guy—the kind who’ll mess around and leave you flat. The kind of guy I always avoided… Until the year after Melody was born, and I realized Scout was never coming back.

It was the year I decided to stop holding onto my silly, little girl dreams of us being together. I realized we would never be anything more than friends, and the week we spent together was just a fling. Scout had gone to L.A. like he said he would. He’d started dating other women, started doing porn…

Yeah, the porn thing was a wild card.

After that discovery and my conversation with Evil Becky, I decided to wait a few years before going to L.A. for my big reveal. I wanted to get on my feet first and show everybody I wasn’t trying to trap him or destroy his dream. I didn’t need Scout Dunne.

Then Travis Walker roared in on his Harley like a bat out of hell.

He’d strutted into my shop in those black cowboy boots and faded jeans, leaned his tight ass against my 1970s Nakashima cypress table, and told me I was pretty.

My lips tighten, and I decide my anger is stronger than my curiosity. “You two-timed me with Tabby Green. Then you let her believe we were sleeping together when you crawled out of my window and left me to clean up the mess.”

His wolf eyes are contrite, and he has the nerve to step a little closer. “Damn, Daisy. Were you always this feisty?”

“No.” I take a step back. “I’ve grown up a lot in the last few years.”

“It’s sexy.” He lifts my hand, and I see a silver skull ring gleaming on his index finger. “I’ll say what I came for. I’d like to apologize for my behavior.”

“What…” You could knock me over with a feather.

“I was a jacked-up motherfucker, and I’ve learned a lot since then.”

I take my hand away, crossing my arms. “What have you learned?”

“For starters, I joined NA. That’s narcotics anonymous—”

“I know what it is.”

“I did the steps. I did the work to make myself a better person. It’s why I’m here.” Looking up, he captures me with his gaze. “I want to make it up to you, Daisy May. Will you let me do that?”

Everything in me knows this guy is bad news, but it’s been four years since I’ve slept with a guy—since I was with Scout—and my little girl dreams have started to hurt when I have them.

Maybe Sly is right and there’s no such thing as soul mates.

My eyes narrow as I study him. “What did you have in mind?”

A smile splits his cheeks, and his voice lowers. “Let me take you to dinner tomorrow night. We’ll have a few drinks and then just play it by ear.”

Melody’s laugh rings outside like a bell, and I’m snatched back to reality. “I’m sorry. That’s not a good idea.”

“No? I think it’s a great idea. We could go to the Blue Crab, catch up on old times. It’ll be fun.”

Stepping back, I shake myself. “Thanks, but No. I’m not looking to get involved with anyone right now.”

“That’s not what you said last time I was here.”

The last time he was here, I was depressed and lonely. Sly was in Charleston, and I felt intensely like an outsider in this small, beachfront hamlet. I was a single mom, and I ached for Scout so badly.

“Like I said, I’m not that girl anymore.” I’ve got my head on straight.

He gives me a crooked grin. “You’re not afraid to have dinner with me?”

“I’m not afraid of anything.” When have I said those words before?

This time I mean them.

“Then have dinner with an old friend. You’ve got to eat.”

“We were never friends,” I say through a laugh. “And I’m sorry. I’ve got Melody to consider. I don’t have a babysitter—”

“Sorry I’m late!” Donna Walsh chooses that moment to burst into the store, breathless. “Lindsey kept trying to put raisins in her nose, and I got a late start.”

Donna is the shared bookkeeper for all of us in the storefronts,

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