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Welcome to Wynne, population 3,401.
No billionaires. No professional athletes. No celebrities.
In this small town, current events are pondered in mirrors at the local salon or around crowded tables at the diner, and there’s a new couple to gossip about. A rough and tumble woman who works in her dad’s garage, not yet ready to spread her wings, shows the new guy in town what it’s like to finally have roots.
It’s your run-of-the-mill, sexy, Astro van driving dentist meets smart-ass, bass fishing tomboy in a story of real-life romance.
Low on drama. High on love.
Pull up a chair and stay a while.
For those looking for more angst, Bait is always there, and only 99¢. lol
Copyright © 2016 M. Mabie / Fifty5cent Publishing
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International
and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of the
material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any
form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or
by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission
from the author/ publisher. The characters and events portrayed in this book are
fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, alive or dead, is coincidental and not indented
by the author.
was probably gonna clean up and head down to Sally’s or The Tap. You ought to go
down. I think there’s a band somewhere tonight.”
Although that sounded fun—or as much fun as was possible on a Saturday night in a
small town, population 3,400—I was ready to take my shoes off and just have a beer in
the garage at my workbench.
“Not tonight, I’m licked.” For those of you not from Wynne, that means tired, but in
that moment I knew what I’d said and who I’d said it in front of. I quickly glanced to
the man I’d only known for about thirty minutes and fire burned under my
embarrassed cheeks. “I’m tired,” I corrected in case he thought I’d meant something
He failed at hiding his amusement, but didn’t laugh at me, which I appreciated.
In case you haven’t figured it out yet, I was rough around the edges for a chick. I
always had been. I was raised by my grandpa and dad, in a town where kids didn’t go
to the arcade, they went to a creek. Where we didn’t go to the beach and get a tan, we
bailed hay for the neighbor and got burned. I barely wore makeup, and most days my
hair air-dried from my rolled down truck window on the way to the shop.
I only dated one guy in high school, and he turned out to be a real ass, which was
okay because the poor dope was as bald as a knob and his wife slept around on him
with the bartender at The Tap. Other than him, I’d had my share of hits and misses, but
nothing major. The dating pool in Wynne was shallow, a lot like the gene pool.
I could out-fish any man in our county. Clean my catch twice as fast.
we were out of town about a mile and a half and they were the first house on the edge
of the city limits. I drove past it nothing short of twice each day.
I saw the boxes he’d unloaded to get his house keys on the driveway, stacked neatly
against the garage door. The whole bungalow needed a new coat of paint, and maybe
even a new porch. As far back as I could remember, it had always been that color and it
had never been remodeled, only maintained—if you could call it that. There were
dowels missing from the railing on the porch and the screen door on the side was never
shut and latched all the way. Sometimes it would swing in the wind if the weather was
bad. It needed a new roof, too.
I’d been in it a few times as a child, and I was sure the inside was just as dated and
neglected. It was nice that someone was going to fix it up.
I smiled to myself and my boot pushed down on the gas pedal, speeding up on my
way out of town.
I didn’t know Vaughn, but anyone who would move to Wynne—from anywhere--
and fix up one of its oldest houses, and take over for a dentist who’d been a lifelong
resident ... well, he had to be pretty ambitious. And sadly, that’s one thing our little
I pulled into our shed, where I normally parked, and killed the engine. It was only a
little after eight, but I knew if I started on the lures I’d be up all night. And I had to get
those invoices straightened out in the morning.
So instead, I grabbed a beer from the old fridge next to my workbench, let the tailgate
down on my truck, and sat there in the dark, thinking about the new guy and watching