She had to get used to the sound of that. Mary Beth had to be honest with herself too. She had no intention of marrying Bobby Joe now. For all she cared, he could go back into that storage room and spend the rest of his life locked inside with Luellen Simpson and a dozen brooms.

A worrisome thought stopped her pacing for a moment. What if Parr hadn’t been completely honest with her? Mary Beth headed for a small bench tucked between two flowering shrubs and sat down.

From what she knew about him—before she’d even met him—he went through relationships with women as fast as he could. Did she mean any more to him than a new challenge? Granted, the circumstances were unique, but that was even more reason for her to be cautious. There was no happy ending to a fling that would pit brother against brother, and the older generation against the younger.

The situation was impossible.

But there it was. However, she could do without either brother, without a man at all, and certainly without sex. She couldn’t miss what she’d never had.

Mary Beth had never planned to be a virgin for this long. For some reason, she hadn’t questioned Bobby Joe when he’d wanted to hold off on sex with her, saying all the while that he loved and respected her too much. Now that she knew the real reason—because the town tramp had her polished claws in him again—she should feel better. But she didn’t.

Whoever said that love is a many-splendored thing had never peeked into that storage closet.

Mary Beth stayed on the bench, feeling cold all over but not inclined to go in. Knowing that she would be returning to her routine and making the rounds of county schools for her social work assignments didn’t cheer her up. If she was lucky, there would be only a few tactless questions from colleagues and acquaintances. But, oh Lord, spare her the sympathetic looks. Someone out of all those people had to have seen Luellen at some point. The big announcement hadn’t been a surprise anyway, and that part of the evening had been, well, finessed. Even so. Rumors got started over the least little things. If she could avoid the inevitable murmured comments as well, that would be a plus.

Did you hear . . . ? Yes, but I don’t understand why Luellen was even invited.... She wasn’t! And there’s more....

The whispered words she dreaded most: Poor Mary Beth . . . poor, dear Mary Beth.

Parr stood just outside the door, scanning the backyard until he spotted Mary Beth inspecting the tulips blooming brightly near the gate. She looked so beautiful, so fresh, like a piece of ripe fruit, ready for the picking. A luscious strawberry.