Through it all, two things had given her hope, making her think she'd lost a battle rather than the actual war. He still hadn't changed the locks on the door, and he hadn't painted over the artwork decorating his walls.

But her hope was dwindling fast. He'd left last night and he hadn't come home. Had he gone on a date?

This morning, she'd finally broken down and called Brook Lynn, seeking more advice, which was how she'd ended up at Two Farms for lunch with the entire girl gang.

"He's been a beast," Brook Lynn said as she b.u.t.tered a roll. "Gripes about everything, yells at everyone."

Jessie Kay nodded. "You'd think you told him your hoo-ha is actually a Venus flytrap and his p.e.n.i.s will be severed if he has s.e.x with you."

"Do you have to say that word while we're eating?" Daphne asked.

"Which one? p.e.n.i.s?" Jessie Kay bellowed. Some patrons gasped. Some glared at her. Others shook their heads, all bless her heart. "The word p.e.n.i.s is not the equivalent of maggots, you know. Though it probably should be."

"And now I've lost my appet.i.te," Daphne said, pushing her bowl of chicken potpie away.

Kenna threw a piece of fried cheese at Jessie Kay. "Have some cla.s.s and call it a baby maker or something."

Everyone at the table went still.

"Are you trying to tell us you're pregnant?" Brook Lynn demanded.

"No!" Kenna burst out. "What? We're waiting until we've had a few years together. You can call it the trouser snake, for all I care."

Trouser snake? Really? "What about man meat? Or even the middle leg?" Harlow suggested.

Jessie Kay nodded thoughtfully. "Or we could go with something simple like the peen. If we wanted to get technical, we'd have to go with the meatsicle. Or the anaconda, but that's on a case-by-case basis."

Daphne tried for a stern expression, only to ruin it with a snort. "I am not playing this game. But if I were, I'd suggest we call it the weenie wonka."

How had they ended up on this subject? "Ladies." Harlow clapped her hands to gain their attention. "Can we please return to bad-mouthing Beck?"

"The guy who's been serving out Mr. Happy Meals to satisfied customers for years? Yes. Please continue." Jessie Kay gave a regal wave of her hand.

And I actually asked her for help? "Why would he ignore me since learning of my...you know...untouched state?"

"He hasn't talked about it," Brook Lynn said, an apology in her voice. "To be honest, I had no idea what was going on until you called."

Great! "Why did you agree to help him find me a new man, anyway?"

"I didn't agree-I suggested it."

"What? Why?"

"To tick him off and make him admit he wants you all to himself." Brook Lynn grinned. "He pulled me aside the other day and told me not to set you up with anyone. He would be handling all the details."

"Well, he's not handling them. Where'd he go last night?"

The blonde winced.

Don't say date. Don't say date.

"To the city...for a double date with Dorian." Brook Lynn patted her hand. "I'm sorry. I only know because Beck called Jase late last night and said he wouldn't be coming home."

Her shoulders drooped, what remained of her hope dying a quick and brutal death.

A bell tinkled over the door, and she glanced over to see Scott Cameron coming into the restaurant. He gazed around, as if he were looking for someone specific, only to stop on her and smile coldly.

So not in the mood. Besides, did he never work?

Scott removed his baseball cap and approached their table. For the first time in years, she got a good, long look at him up close and personal and noticed he wasn't the athlete he used to be. He had a slight beer gut and a- What was that called? m.u.f.fin top? Without the hat, there was no hiding his receding hairline.

"Um, hi, Scott," Brook Lynn said. "Is there something we can help you with?"

"You can tell me why you're hanging out with the wicked witch of the Southwest."

Jessie Kay bristled. "You're right. She's a witch. But she's our witch, so you better back the h.e.l.l off before I decide to get creative with my b.u.t.ter knife."

Harlow gaped at the girl. She's...defending me?

"Besides," Kenna said, nose in the air. "Our girl is taken. Your juvenile efforts to gain her attention won't work."

"Taken? By that Beck guy? Please. Everyone knows he'll stick it to anything breathing. Isn't that right, Jessie Kay?" Scott laughed as both Jessie Kay and Harlow hissed at him. "Besides, you ladies gotta stop expecting a man to sweep you off your feet. You're the ones who are supposed to handle the broom."

Oh, no, he didn't. "How about I shove a broom right up your-" A hand slapped over Harlow's mouth.

"Family establishment," Brook Lynn whispered at her, only then removing her hand.

Scott opened his mouth to say more, thought better of it and stalked off, snagging a table at the other side of the room. Their waitress raced over to pat his arm while casting Harlow a hate-filled scowl. Okay. It was safe to say her next order would contain spit, at the very least.

"Thank you," Harlow said to Jessie Kay.

"Well, you are a witch. I meant that with every fiber of my being."

Harlow clutched her chest. "The warm tingles are overwhelming. Tell me. Is this love? This feels like love."

Brook Lynn snorted.

"Our waitress can't be more than twenty," Harlow said. "I didn't go to school with her, wasn't ever rude to her, so why does she loathe me?"

"Haven't you heard? She and Scott are dating." Kenna swiped up the last roll in the basket. "Bet he's ranted and raved about you. My guess is she called him the moment you arrived and that's how he knew to come here."

Can I never catch a break?

"Forget about her," Daphne said. "I want to know what you're going to do about Beck."

There was no need to think about it any longer. "Nothing," she replied, then sighed as depression settled heavily on her shoulders. "He made his choice, and it wasn't me."

"He's just confused," Brook Lynn said.

"He's fighting his feelings for you," Kenna added.

Hadn't girls been telling themselves those kinds of lies since the beginning of time?

"Plus, have you really put much effort into winning him?" Jessie Kay asked. "I haven't seen you go to the house to flash him. Not once. And when I secretly checked his text messages a few nights ago, I didn't see one dirty picture of you. From other girls? Yes. Like, a lot of other girls. Seriously, I had no idea so many in this town were of the Fatal Attraction variety."

"I want names," Harlow growled.

Jessie Kay smirked at her. "I think smoke is actually curling from your nostrils."

Kenna slapped her friend's arm. "You shouldn't tease her about the dirty pictures."

"Ow." Jessie Kay frowned at the redhead. "I wasn't teasing."

"Well, you're tormenting her."

"Am not!" Jessie Kay's frown deepened. "I'm just trying to light a fire under her, get her spurred into action. Unlike you two, who want to throw her a pity party."

Had she put much effort in? Harlow wondered. He'd stayed away from her, sure, but she'd stayed away from him, as well. He hadn't called or texted her, but she hadn't called or texted him, either.

The thought instantly lightened her mood, and though she was trembling, she withdrew her phone. "All right, girls. I've never gone X-rated before. Help me?"

Jessie Kay rubbed her hands together. "Darlin', you came to the right place."

Brook Lynn, Kenna and Daphne groaned.

"One day, when you look back over your life, you'll realize this is where things started to go horribly wrong," Brook Lynn said.

"Don't listen to the haters." After a bit of table wrestling, Jessie Kay managed to stuff a napkin in her sister's mouth. "These gals were tutored by me, and look at them now. All three of them are in healthy relationships."

"Despite your tutelage," Kenna muttered.

"Tell them, Daph," Jessie Kay said.

"She has helped me nail down Brad Lintz," Daph admitted with a sigh.

A Gla.s.s Pa.s.s survivor, as well as the owner of Lintz Automotive, and the sheriff's son. Good. He deserved a happy ending.

"For this to work," Jessie Kay said, "we've got to call that Dorian guy, like, right now. He's a key ingredient to my-I mean your-success. I'm only ever always thinking of you. So do it. Call him and tell him to come to Two Farms."

"But-"

"Aw, you're shy. That's so cute. No worries, I'll do it for you." Jessie Kay swiped Harlow's phone, scrolled through her contacts and found the right number. She placed the device at her ear, waited. "Dude! Even your voice is pure s.e.x. But listen. I'm Jessie Kay, Harlow's best friend. You and I made eye-babies the other day. Yep....Yep...Mmm, keep talking. I mean, no, no, stop talking and listen. We need you to come to Strawberry Valley right now. Two Farms. It's a matter of life and death. PS, don't tell Beck." She hung up, pulled at the collar of her shirt. "That boy is dangerous."

"And we need him...why?" Brook Lynn demanded.

"You'll see. Now. The next part is a bit tricky. We're all gonna have to be a little tipsy." She signaled their waitress. When the pretty brunette dragged her feet to their table, she said, "Bring us that big bottle of Macallan locked behind the bar."

The girl's eyes grew big and round. "But that's...almost a thousand dollars." She whispered the last, as though scandalized.

Harlow nearly had a heart attack. "We do not want that bottle. Not now, not ever."

Jessie Kay hiked her thumb at Kenna. "We do, and it goes on her fiance's tab. He can afford it."

"He can," Kenna agreed.

"And don't you dare open the bottle and bring it to us in gla.s.ses," Jessie Kay added. "You'll just pour it into another container before it ever reaches us and fill our gla.s.ses with the cheap stuff. I used to work here. I invented that trick. We want the bottle unopened, and no gla.s.ses. We're doing this old-school."

"What?" Daphne said. "With that fancy bottle? Why?"

Jessie Kay got real serious real fast. "We're going to have ourselves a good old-fashioned ho-mance and share the bottle. It'll bond us. Whiskey sisters for life."

To Harlow, it sounded like a little slice of heaven. Who cared about the money? If Kenna's fiance refused to pay, Harlow had organs she could sell on the black market. Sisters? Yes, please. "I'm in!"

BECK REALIZED HE'D come full circle. Once again he was seated at the window in his bedroom, peering out at Harlow's RV. He'd gone to see her about an hour ago, pulled by an invisible chain he couldn't cut, but she hadn't answered the door. He'd let himself in like the concerned neighbor he was and discovered she wasn't ignoring him; she just wasn't at home.

It was the middle of the day, which was intolerable. She had work to do, d.a.m.n it. Where was she, and who was she with?

He'd stayed away from her far too long, and it had affected him physically. As he'd already realized, she'd become his new normal, which meant he couldn't sleep without her in his arms. He couldn't eat, his stomach tied in too many knots. Not even Brook Lynn's pie had tempted him.

He'd handled things poorly. Harlow was his friend, and he never should have run out on her after her big confession. But he'd been so surprised...so turned on. So possessive, wanting to be the first and only man to have her. He'd almost signed on for forever, picked her up and carried her to his bed.

A bed he'd shared with too many women to count.

He'd known from the beginning she deserved far better than he had to offer, but that thought had cinched it. She was untouched, pure...and he was tainted.

Despite the red flashing through his vision, he knew he had to find her another guy faster than originally planned. Like, tomorrow. Committed women were invisible to him, he reminded himself. His attraction to Harlow would finally fade. He needed it to fade. He couldn't go on like this.

So. It was time to take things to the next level. No more dates for Harlow. Instead, he would set up a party and invite every bachelor he knew, and she would then speed-date each and every one; at the end of the night, she would pick her favorite.

He would invite everyone but Dorian.

Yesterday Beck had set up a double date for the two of them, thinking his friend needed to be consoled by another woman. Consoled, not distracted so that he'd stay away from Harlow. But Beck had been a major a.s.shole all night and scared both women away.

His phone buzzed, and he swiped up the device, grateful for the distraction of the text-until he found a picture of Harlow attached. As the image burned past his retinas and into his brain, he jumped to his feet. His sweet little hag was sitting in Dorian's lap, and the rat b.a.s.t.a.r.d was smiling.

The caption underneath read, Lok Beck! Loooook what I fond! A nice slice of jucy man meet!!!!!!!!

The typos were adorable, and he hated himself for thinking so. This was not a humorous situation. Harlow was ruining her future, settling for momentary pleasure with a guy who wasn't right for her.

R U drunk? he typed.

Her: Only a 9.99. Or maybe 9.99.

Him: Where R U?

As he waited for her reply, he studied the picture in more depth, not allowing himself to focus on Dorian or Harlow, only on the things around them. A wall with wooden slats. A picture of two crumbling white farmhouses tilted on its side. He'd seen that picture before... Where, where...