Can't Hurry Love (Sunshine Valley #1) - Melinda Curtis Page 0,84

said gruffly. “My assistant has what you need to camp. You’ll return the supplies in the condition you borrowed them in, or there will be further consequences.”

Oliver cleared his throat. “Judge Harper—”

“If you do this”—the judge coughed and then worked hard to clear his throat—“I’m granting supervised visits while in Sunshine.”

“What?” Drew couldn’t believe it. He gave Jane a contemptuous look. “After everything she’s said and done?”

“Daily visits,” the judge said firmly. “Of up to one hour in length. We’ll reconvene next week, and each of you will submit to further review.”

Now Drew knew how a driver caught speeding felt—trapped. “I’ll need time to prepare Becky.”

“One day,” Judge Harper allowed. “Two max.”

Drew thanked the judge and left the office.

“This is a good thing.” Rupert followed him out, a bounce to his step. “As is your dating Wendy.”

“Is it?” Drew barely kept himself from slamming the outer office door against the wall.

“Yes. If Jane’s not good for your daughter, you’ll know it. And if by some twist of fate she is, you’ll know it. I know you, Sheriff. You’re a good judge of people. And you’re fair.” Rupert walked down the hall toward the courtroom and a waiting defendant, Ellery Finkle, who’d been charged with drunk and disorderly conduct.

“Fair?” Drew didn’t want to be fair. He wanted to play dirty.

It was time to get serious about Wendy.

* * *

“My kids are in love with you.” Mary Margaret hung her dress next to Lola’s fashion-show outfit in the room beneath the stage at the high school. “The boys all want horns like you did for Caden, and the girls are dreaming of fairy makeup.”

“Your class is adorable.” Lola meant it. She couldn’t wait for the next rehearsal with those five- and six-year-olds. It helped that Mary Margaret seemed to have forgotten the hug Lola had given her. “And your dress is lovely.”

“It is, isn’t it?” The kindergarten teacher held it up to admire it. Mary Margaret had been given a midcalf midnight-blue sleeveless sheath. It would show off her cover-model figure and provide a rich contrast to that mane of red hair. “I wish I could afford it.” Her expression wavered between wistfulness and melancholy. Word was just now spreading about the debt her husband had left her with. “Three hundred dollars. Yeesh. How much is yours?”

“Three seventy-five.” Lola wouldn’t be buying her outfit either. She’d been given a robin’s-egg-blue formfitting pantsuit with a sleeveless tunic and a cream-colored scarf. The ruby earring she’d found in Randy’s keepsake box was going to stand out on that scarf and look like an antique brooch. Only Randy’s lover would recognize it for what it was.

And this time, if anyone asked Lola for it, she was giving it to them. She still had a bruise on her backside from falling on the table at the bake sale.

“I drove by your house the other day.” Mary Margaret looked around to see who might overhear and lowered her voice. “Loved the couple in the window.”

Her praise went a long way to settling Lola’s nerves. “My husband bought them. It’s kind of my revenge for him being a jerk, you know? They’ve been up for more than a week, and I’m starting to talk to them.” Starting? That was a stretch. “Do you think that’s weird?”

“No.” Mary Margaret took Lola’s arm and leaned in close as if they were best friends sharing secrets. “People talk to plants. My mother-in-law talks to her dog.” She had a sweet smile but it turned mischievous. “If you want to talk to somebody who’ll talk back, come to Shaw’s on Sunday afternoons. You’ll fit right in with the girls.”

Lola nodded. Sunday afternoons at Shaw’s. Avery might be there. Lola had been too busy to track her down to apologize in person.

“Question.” Drew’s sister Priscilla had been given a black cocktail dress with a plunging neckline. She had curves and filled out every inch of the dress. “Should I hitch the dress up?” Priscilla tugged the shoulders and turned her torso from side to side. “Or pull it down?” She tugged the dress at her hips.

“It rides more naturally up,” Lola said diplomatically.

“Up, definitely,” Mary Margaret agreed. “Otherwise it bunches over your hips and makes your butt look big.”

“It does not.” Priscilla swatted playfully at Mary Margaret’s arm and then tugged the dress down. “Does it?”

Mary Margaret assured her she’d been teasing.

“When you’re done with those dolls in your window,” Pris said, nudging Lola’s shoulder, “I’d like to borrow them. They’d drive my