Before me stood Richard Tatum. All dark-brown six feet of him, with a bald but dent-less head, salt-and-pepper beard, and artificially white teeth twinkling back at me. He was good-looking as a young man, and honestly he looked even better now. He’d taken care of himself, it appeared, which always makes an older man seem smart no matter what he’d actually accomplished—or not—in his lifetime.
It was kind of sweet of him to run after me. Something Eric wouldn’t have done.
Richard stood at a respectable distance, smiling broadly. “Why, to what does this entire town owe this pleasure?”
“Hello, Richard.”
“Hello, Joyce. You’re looking mighty fine.”
“Thank you. Time’s been good to you as well,” I had to admit.
His eyes swept down my body and back up again. “Pretty legs holding up.”
“Stop.” I found myself responding to his flirty compliment with a smile that refused to contain itself.What in the world? Am I desperate?Maybe this was what Eileen had seen in me, too. Desperate, lonely, and divorced.
“You never answered my question. What brings you back here?”
I noticed he hadn’t asked about my family, the most proper way to ask about my husband. No, he just stood there asking about me, like he already knew it was perfectly fine to chase me down the street and compliment my legs.
Miss Mary worked fast; I needed to work faster. “I moved back to my grandmother’s old house. How’s your family, Richard?”
His shrug drew my attention to his embroidered shirt.Tatum Printing. His father had owned that business back in the day. “Kids and grandkids all good.”
“And Lucielle?” I asked.
“Lucielle and I split up. About five years ago. A few years before my parents died—they went within months of each other.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Richard,” I said. Everybody always said that when a couple has been together all their lives and one goes, the other one might die of heartache soon after. A sad but beautiful love story that I always knew wasn’t going to happen to me—at least, not the “die of heartache” part.
“Thank you for the condolences.”
“You’re welcome. You running the business these days?”
“Yep. When my father passed, I sold my dealership in Dallas, sold my house, and relocated back to Robin Creek. Ready to slow down, you know?”
“Yeah. Slowing down is good for the soul,” I had to agree.
He dipped his head low. “Listen, you…uh…not married anymore. Right?”
I didn’t respond right away.
“I mean, that’s what I heard.”
“So you already knew why I was back in town, then?”
“No, no, no,” he denied a little too adamantly. “That’s what Iheard. But I can’t be sure, not until I hear it straight from you.”
Lying about my situation didn’t seem reasonable. “It’s true. I’m divorced. Retired. Starting over.”
He whistled and shook his head. “Whoever thought at our age we’d be out here in these single streets again. You been online?”
“Online for what?”
“For matchmaking.”
I scrunched up my face. “No, I most certainly have not. I’m not looking for a match—and if I were, I wouldn’t be online.”
Richard laughed. “I said the same thing. But it’s how things happen nowadays. How else are you gonna find somebody when most of the people our age are homebodies?”
