“ ‘Remember, it’s a sin to kill a mockingbird.’ ”

The voice over her shoulder came with a whiff of citrus and spice. She swung around and encountered a pair of dark-lashed hazel eyes and a brilliant white smile. Her heart whammed in her chest. Good thing she was surrounded by doctors. Since when was her hometown crawling with hot guys?

“Man, I love that movie,” he said.

“Have you read the book?”

He stuck the non-business end of a spatula under a chef’s hat and scratched his head. “Not since ninth grade.”

“No kidding. I read it in ninth grade, too.”

“I figured.”

She replaced the precious item on the table. “I guess it’s par for the course in freshman English.”

“Well, it is at Green Ridge High School.”

Wow. She took a step back. Was it that obvious she was a local girl?

The guy grinned. “Richard Bruce. Green Ridge High School alum and veteran of Mrs. Nuttall’s ninth-grade English class.” He extended a hand.

She took it, releasing her jaw into a smile. “Tessa Meadows.”

“I figured. Claire sent me to find you. ‘The stunning redhead who’s about a million feet tall,’ she said. That would definitely be you. What she didn’t tell me, though, was that you’d smell so damn good.”

She thought she’d met her daily quota for blushing. She was wrong. “It’s the lilacs.” A cog turned in her memory. “Hold on, I remember you.” She flashed back to the cement block walls of her high school gym. The vision was less traumatizing than she might have imagined. But yes, Richard Bruce. His name was emblazoned on championship banners, and his photo graced the athletic and academic trophy cases. She took in his dark, wavy hair and trim, athletic figure. He looked pretty much the same as he had smiling from the halls of her school. “You played basketball. Your picture was always in the paper when I was in middle school.”

“Shortest point guard ever to win a state championship. At your service.” He flourished the spatula.

Dropping a quick curtsy, she let out a giggle. “The pleasure’s all mine.”

“May I escort you to your post?” He eased several jars from her hands.

She followed him to a table draped with a pretty, blue-checked cloth and deposited the arrangements. “So…my car is full of pies.”

“Pies? Music to my ears.”

“If you have a second, I could use help carrying them. I bought three dozen.”

“Many pies. Even better.”

“I hope you still feel that way when you find out how much they weigh. I had no idea pie was so heavy.”

Nearing the van, Richard barked a laugh. “Don’t tell me it’s you I’ve spotted in this groovy love wagon.”