It was only a waking dream. But it was a powerful one that made her ache with forbidden desire. Mary Beth let her head loll back, willing away the sensual fog that had enveloped her mind. She got dressed again without looking at herself and grabbed the items on hangers.

“How did those fit? I can get you different sizes,” a sales associate said brightly.

“Fine. I think I’ll take them. But I’m going to look through the racks some more.”

“No problem. Take your time. My name is Kim, if you need help with anything.”

“Thanks.”

An hour or so later, she ended up at the food court, needing a snack after a second go-round with different dressing room mirrors and a couple of summer outfits. The skimpy cuts in style this season showed too much. She’d settled for fitted, scoop neck tees in ice cream colors and a new pair of jeans.

Shopping on Bobby Joe’s dime didn’t make her feel guilty. He did know a thing or two about female psychology. Besides, there was plenty of money left over. She’d make him take the rest of it back.

She chose a chain with restaurant style service and slid into a table behind a leafy fake tree, ordering from a busy waitress. Mary Beth sipped from her glass of water, grateful for the chance to sit. She bent to the side to get her shopping bags straightened out, looking into them with a feeling of returning happiness. Retail therapy worked, if only temporarily. It had been ages since she’d bought herself clothes as pretty as these.

Her salad was served up in minutes and she dug right in, contemplating the fresh-baked roll that came with a pat of butter on the side. Single-serve sin. Not that she was dieting.

But . . . Mary Beth hesitated, then split the roll with her knife and slathered on the whole pat, spreading it slowly before she took a bite. Mmm.

She’d finished her meal and was chasing a few toasted almond slivers around her salad bowl when a familiar voice stopped her cold.

“Trudy, this’ll do.” A clatter of paper shopping bags hit the floor as the speaker scraped a chair away from the table in back of Mary Beth. “Hell, do I ever need a drink. Where was I?”

The fake tree rustled as the woman sat down first.

“You’re not going to get one here, Luellen,” her friend said irritably. “And what I need is a chair. You were telling me about him and his fiancée.”