It was time for another swim. Many nights in her future, she’d be tired, smell like the kitchen, and probably have aching feet, she was sure she’d plop right into bed. But tonight, she was exhilarated by the possibilities of her new venture. And if you had a clear, cool lake to take a dip in, it was almost a sin not to!
She slipped into the suit Libby had given her. She’d need to order one, but dang, Libby had good taste in clothes. Hope was more likely to grab whatever they had in the grocery store clothes aisle than to buy something of quality that would last. She worried about food all the time, but clothes? Never.
Hope walked out onto the dock and, on impulse, decided to give a shout-out.
“Hey, creeper? You home?”
“That’s detective creeper to you, and glad to see you got a proper swimsuit. This isn’t a nudist colony, you know.” Mr. tall, gray, and handsome, Greg McQueen appeared from the far side of his side yard, beer in one hand, garden hose in the other.
“Too bad.” Hope was feeling bold. She was fifty years old, long past the time when shy or timid would get her anywhere. Flexing her dormant flirting muscle, she took it a step further. “Why don’t you find a suit and join me for a drink on the dock?”
“Fine, as long as you don’t get fresh.”
She laughed and realized, somehow, she and her neighbor shared a sense of humor. It only took a minute for Greg to join her in the lake. She stole a glance or three when he wasn’t looking. Oops, she was the creeper!
They both swam a bit, splashed a bit, and sat on the dock afterward as the warm evening air and perfectly chilled wine made things too comfortable to move.
“So, not to be rude, but are you officially divorced?”
Greg wasn’t being rude; it was a valid question for her. She’d come into town alone. She was building a business on her own, with no partner in sight.
“Not quite. Need to find a lawyer for that.”
“I get it. Divorce is tough, even when your ex is a demon woman from hell.”
“Is yours?”
“Oh, for sure, but a good mom, so you know?”
Hope laughed. She wondered if Archie was telling someone she was a demon woman from hell. On some days, she felt like it.
“I suspect there are two or three sides to your story,” she commented.
“Honestly, I was a workaholic. She was sick of it. I also didn’t know how to separate Job me from Husband me. So maybe I turned her into a demon from hell.”
Hope knew it was all a two-way street. Archie probably could have had a better match than her. He could have lived a different life with someone else. Maybe he still could.
Hope stole a glance at Greg as they made their way to the plastic Adirondack chairs, she’d foraged out of the shed. There were a few busted slats on the chairs, but she hadn’t had time to worry about the cottage décor with the restaurant taking all of her time.
Greg had a scar on the side of his abdomen. It was jagged. It didn’t look like a surgery scar, though she supposed it could be an appendectomy gone sideways. She’d seen the scar when he’d helped her with the birds.
“And is that a workaholic scar?” She figured if he was sensitive about it, surely, he wouldn’t be shirtless half the time.
Greg ran his hand over it. “Actually, got stabbed on the job. Put me on medical leave, and then I realized I liked not working all the time. Took my retirement out here. My wife didn’t like lake life but liked her house in the right suburb that I still pay for.”
“But you’re back, on patrol. Still working, not retired, that I can see.”
“It’s a world of difference. Small town, part-time, contracted law enforcement versus, well, Detroit. That town kept me busy, let’s just say. I never had time for yard work or to enjoy a delicious pork chop or go swimming at sunset.”
“All pretty great things, I think.”
“The biggest riot I’ve had to deal with over the last year is your unruliness.”
“Yes, I’m a troublemaker.”
“What I’ve learned, this time around, is that I can work, but I also have to do it on my terms. I patrol a sleepy town, hang out with a bodacious babe after work, and try to suck in my gut when I’m sitting in this chair.”
Hope nearly choked on her wine while laughing.
