Can't Hurry Love (Sunshine Valley #1) - Melinda Curtis Page 0,4

auction at Shaw’s Bar & Grill. Clearly, they were looking for another woman to auction off.

They wanted to auction Lola off tonight? If Lola wasn’t allowed a little time to come to terms with Randy’s infidelity, she’d reach Watch-Out-World mode. And then Drew would need more than a fire extinguisher to control the damage. “Give Lola some space, and I won’t arrest her.”

“It’s her time,” Mims said with all the practicality of a woman announcing her car was due for an oil change. “We’ve given her an extra six months.”

“Being widowed,” Clarice tsk-tsked, “it can be lonely.”

“Loneliness can fester,” Bitsy said in that soothing voice of hers.

“And then widows start acting odd.” Mims pointed toward the pile of driveway ashes.

Loneliness had nothing to do with Lola acting odd. It was the realization that Randy wasn’t the man she’d thought he was.

Six years ago, Drew had seen that same shell-shocked expression on his ex-wife’s face. That was the last time he’d seen Jane. He would bet his ex hadn’t worn that expression when she’d called him this morning. Nope. He would bet he was the one who’d looked like the rug had been yanked out from under him. Jane hadn’t seen Becky since she was three months old and suddenly wanted joint custody? It was enough to T-bone a man.

Frustration crowded its way into his lungs and up his throat until he had to focus on something else to breathe easier—the ashes in the driveway, the sturdy oak door, Lola.

Compared to Jane, Lola was no trouble. Sure, a few people in town considered her stuck-up because she was from New York City, and others couldn’t understand how she could do hair and makeup on corpses. There was talk she’d swindled Randy’s mother financially after his death, and some folks, like Lola’s neighbor Ramona Everly, took that as a personal affront. And despite all that, it probably didn’t help that Lola didn’t try to blend in. She didn’t wear traditional cowboy boots. She didn’t have a four-wheel drive. And she rooted for the New York Giants!

But once Lola got over the shock of the truth, she’d be fine. There were guys in town who’d ask her out because she was a looker and didn’t have kids. She had roots here now—real estate, two jobs. She’d find her footing and get back on track.

A red SUV parked across the street. Avery Blackstone got out. She was dressed for this evening’s auction in high-heeled boots, black leggings, and a shiny low-cut black blouse. She and her family were some of the few Ute tribe members who didn’t live on the nearby reservation, and if Drew hadn’t gone to school with her, he might have been in awe of her beauty.

Avery nodded to Drew. “Florence called me.”

Drew made a mental note to thank his dispatcher for contacting Lola’s best friend.

“Just in time.” Mims took Avery by the arm and led her to the ashes. “Lola needs you. She burned Randy’s drawers.”

Avery hesitated, as silent and solemn as if she’d just joined a graveside vigil. Finally, she asked, “Randy’s dresser drawers?”

“No. His…” Clarice ran a hand down one of her gray braids and then pointed briefly downward. “His underthings.”

“He was cheating on Lola before he died,” Bitsy said in a hushed tone. “Can you believe it?”

Avery’s heavily made-up, dark eyes widened. “No.”

Drew could believe it. The farmhouse he rented from Randy and Lola had a separate two-car garage at the back of the property with an apartment above it. The garage, which wasn’t included in Drew’s rent, had access to a road down by the South Platte River. Until Randy died, Drew had often been awakened by Randy’s truck rumbling in from the back and a text: Do Not Disturb. Randy’s truck was always gone by morning, leaving Drew wrestling with his conscience. He didn’t consider cheating to be the answer to a bad marriage. But what could he do? No laws he upheld had been broken. And the one time he’d tried to hint at the truth to Lola, she’d thought he was hitting on her.

“Thanks for stopping by, Avery.” Drew opened his car door. He had two more calls to answer and needed to move along. But first, he fixed the widows with a stern stare. “Lola needs friends right now much more than she needs to be auctioned off by the Widows Club for a dinner date.”

“You’re meddling.” Mims’s broad-faced grin looked innocent on first glance. It was only upon closer inspection that