“I go in there all the time. I can’t believe I haven’t recognized him. Does he look like you?”

“He starts work at four in the morning and he’s off by two most days. You wouldn’t see him, he bakes in the basement. All of my brothers and sisters are redheads with green eyes except me and Nathan. Nate’s got brown hair. William looks like a younger version of Tim, my older brother.”

He’d started to chide her about the bread thing until she spoke about her coloring. He remembered back to his momma’s comments about Tate’s mother’s behavior.

Tate cocked her head and he actually saw her openness evaporate. “Yes, I’m aware of my mother’s reputation, it’s well-deserved but you won’t catch poor white trash by sharing a fork with me.”

“Whoa!” The hurt in her words nearly made his eyes water. Putting the bowl down, he reached for her hand. “I would never think such a thing. Tate, I don’t think that about you.”

“I saw your face change when I described my coloring to you.” She tried to remove her hand but he wouldn’t let go.

“Yes. Yes, okay, I did think about what I’d heard about your mother. But that has nothing to do with you. I don’t even know your mother. For all I know, your dad has blond hair and blue eyes.”

“Both my parents are redheads with green eyes, Matt. Don’t think everyone in the world didn’t notice me and Nathan and that we don’t look a damned thing like my father. Don’t think my father failed to notice and make us pay.”

He stilled. “What do you mean?”

She began to pack her things up. “I need to get back to work.”

Reaching out, he touched her arm and she stopped, looking into his eyes. “Wait. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. If you leave I have to give your food back.” He grinned tentatively and she snorted.

“Ugh, another man after my food. I have to beat you all off with a stick. Really, it’s difficult to be objectified that way.”

He laughed but he saw her humor as a way to deflect the conversation away from her comment about her father.

They stayed for another twenty minutes or so before she had to get back to the salon.

“I’ll walk back with you. I need to get to work too. I can’t believe we work across the street and I’ve never really hung out with you before.” He helped her pack up. “Wow, what is this little lunchbox thing?”

“Cool isn’t it? It’s a Mr. Bento. I got it at this cookware store in Atlanta a few months back.”

They walked companionably through the early May afternoon toward their end of town.

“I take it you like to cook?”

She nodded. “It’s a great stress reducer. It’s a way I can do something for my family.”

“So you cut their hair and make them curry?” He grinned, liking that a lot.

“I do. Although Anne is really good with hair too. We’re all pretty handy in the kitchen but it sort of turned into my place to be the house everyone comes to for dinner.” And they all knew her cupboards would never be bare, ever. Once she’d moved out, that was her promise to herself and she’d kept it. No one she loved would ever be hungry if she could help it.

“Do you do men’s hair? I think I need a cut.” Absently, he ruffled a hand through his hair and a surge of giddiness rushed through her. Thirty-one years old with a crush, wasn’t that special.

“We don’t get a lot of men in the shop. Men in Petal tend toward the barber shop on First. But we get a few and I’d be happy to do you. Um, do your hair that is.” She blazed bright red.

He laughed. “You blush easily don’t you?”

“It’s a curse of very pale skin I suppose.” They stopped just outside the salon. “Give a call to check the schedule, I’ll be glad to fit you in and trim you up.” She brushed the hair away from his neck and tsked. “And I’ll get your neck too.”

“Okay, I’ll do that.” He paused before waving and crossing. On the other side of the street he called out, “Thanks for the curry. I’ll talk to you soon, Tate.”

“Hoo boy,” she mumbled, watching him as he went back into the stationhouse.

Matt found himself in Tate’s company several times a week. He liked Tate Murphy a lot. Liked her cooking, liked her sense of humor, liked the shape of her eyes and the smattering of freckles on the apple of her cheeks. Her voice was low and scratchy, totally unique, just like the rest of her.

He found himself thinking about her when he wasn’t with her and making excuses to try and bump into her around town.

About a month after that first lunch with Tate, Kyle had invited himself over to Matt’s apartment with Nicholas and the three of them spent the afternoon watching NASCAR and building block towers. Nicholas was quickly approaching a year old and Matt had baby-proofed his living room and kitchen to make it safe for his nephew’s presence. Still, the boy was fast as lightning.

Kyle jumped up to grab Nicholas when the doorbell rang. He opened it with Nicholas under his arm, laughing.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought this was Matt’s apartment.”

Matt perked up at the familiar voice. He looked around Kyle’s body and saw Tate standing there holding a duffel. “It’s my place. Kyle and Nicholas are hanging out today. Come on in.”

She hesitated and Kyle stepped back, allowing Matt to take her arm and pull her inside before she could bolt.