Mary Beth shook her head, turning to focus fully on him. “Not here. Let’s go inside.”

“I don’t care if Parr sees.”

“Well, I do.”

“He’s not even looking.” Bobby Joe maneuvered her against the chinaberry tree. He uncurled her fingers to take back the box and opened it for her. Another diamond ring, not as elaborate as her engagement ring, sparkled inside on a nest of white satin.

Mary Beth hardly knew what to say. The ruby strawberry felt hotter than a burning coal against her skin. She was on fire with guilt, even though she hadn’t done anything to be guilty about. Not really.

“It’s—lovely,” she choked out. “And it looks expensive. But why?”

“I don’t have to have a reason to give you a present, do I?”

Mary Beth wriggled free. “I assume you haven’t done anything else that would cause a scandal.” She wondered if he would even notice that she’d left herself out of it. The emotions he’d evoked in her before—jealousy, suspicion, anger—didn’t seem to be in play. She felt nothing.

For him.

“Of course not,” Bobby Joe answered her impatiently. “I happened to see the ring in a shop window and all I could think of was how it would look on your pretty little hand.”

Mary Beth managed a smile. “Okay.”

Bobby Joe pried the ring from its satin nest and slipped it onto her right hand. “Look. It’s perfect.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Like you.”

“Please don’t say that.”

“Why not?” He tucked the empty box in his shirt pocket and clasped her around the waist. She was more uncomfortable than ever.

“Because it isn’t true. But thank you for the ring. And the thought.” Her expression of gratitude was no more than duty required. There was very little feeling in the words, even though her emotions were in utter turmoil.

Bobby Joe sighed and let her go. “You’re welcome. So long as you like it, I’m not taking it back.”

She nodded, distracted again by the noise of Parr’s work boots clomping up the back stairs into the house, looking his way out of the corner of her eye. He grabbed the shirt he’d slung over the railing and threw it over his shoulder before he stuck the instructions into an empty flowerpot.

“What’s his problem?” Bobby Joe wanted to know.

“The greenhouse kit. He’s having trouble putting it together.”

Bobby Joe glanced indifferently at the pieces of the project. “Beats me. He’s the expert. I actually don’t know much about construction.” He walked a few steps away from her, picking up a two-by-four and inspecting it, then tossing it back on the ground.

“Put it back where you got it.” Mary Beth’s reply was tart.

Bobby Joe gave her a look of mild surprise. He kicked the piece of wood into approximately the right place. “Is that where it was? I guess there’s a method in his madness.”

“Looks to me like he knows what he’s doing.”