Irene chuckled. “Peyton, Trinity Falls, Ohio, can’t be your home. You’re a New Yorker.”
“I’m building a life for myself here. I have a job, friends, I’m involved in the community. In fact, I’m cohosting a fund-raise
r tonight.”
“You are?” Irene sounded pleased and surprised. “Tell me about it.”
Carlson broke into their conversation. “Before you two get started, I’ll say good night. Baby girl, think about coming home, OK?”
Peyton swallowed the lump in her throat. She knew that was something she couldn’t do. Regardless of whether she and Darius reconciled, she could never return to her life before Trinity Falls. “Have a good evening, Dad.”
The click on the line signaled her father had hung up.
“So what is he like?” Irene asked.
“Pardon me?”
“When you came home for Thanksgiving, there was a glow about you. You were more assertive, more outspoken than you’ve ever been.” Irene chuckled. “I hardly recognized you. But I liked what I saw.”
“Thanks, Mom.” Her mother’s words warmed her.
“I’ll miss having you near me, Peyton. Are you happy?”
“I am.” For the most part.
“Good, I’m glad. That’s what your father and I have always wanted. It’s what we’ve prayed for. I look forward to meeting your young man.”
Darius wasn’t her young man anymore. Peyton needed to change the subject. “It’s getting late, Mom. I need to get dressed for the fund-raiser.”
“Of course. Good luck. Call me tomorrow to tell me all about it.”
After making promises and exchanging well-wishes, Peyton ended the call with her mother. She took a moment to let her thoughts settle. What would her parents think of Darius? He didn’t have a high-powered, well-paying career like Bruce. However, there was more honor in his breath than Bruce had in his body. But why should she care what her parents thought of Darius, especially since Darius no longer wanted any part of her?
A pulse pounded in Darius’s temple as Peyton danced with Vaughn—again—during the Guiding Light Community Center’s fund-raiser Saturday night. Pink’s “Don’t Let Me Get Me” filled the center’s activity room, drawing most of the nearly three hundred guests to their feet. Darius was aware of only one couple on the makeshift dance floor. The rest of the dimly lit room, with its festive silver-and-black streamers and buffet tables, faded into the background.
His jaw clenched as the little professor shook her hips and moved her shoulders in front of the good-looking band director with the questionable goatee. They looked good together. Peyton’s little black dress wrapped her like an embrace and bared quite a bit of her legs for a January evening in the Midwest.
Darius gritted his teeth. How many more times were they going to dance with each other? Peyton had partnered with several other single men, too, including Foster Gooden, who was old enough to be her father.
Jackson joined Darius at the edge of the dance floor. “It was smart to host the fund-raiser the Saturday before TFU’s spring semester started. Lots of faculty, staff, and students here interacting with the rest of the community.” The Harmony Cabins resort owner paused. “Jealous?”
Darius cut his friend a look before shifting his attention back to the dance floor. He sipped the lemonade in his white paper cup. His right hand shook with the urge to crush the container in his fist.
Jackson gestured toward the dancers with his own paper cup. “Instead of glaring at Vaughn, why don’t you ask Peyton to dance?”
“Where’s Audra?” Darius kept his eyes on Peyton’s sexy little figure.
Quincy materialized on Darius’s other side. “Changing the subject isn’t going to resolve your problem.”
Darius turned to Quincy but paused in surprise. Ean and Alonzo also had joined them. The four friends stood in a line with Darius at the edge of the dance floor. What was this, an intervention?
Darius returned his attention to Peyton. “I don’t have a problem.”
Ean sipped his drink. “If you’re standing with friends while your woman is dancing with another man, you have a problem.”
Alonzo leaned forward to capture Darius’s attention with Ean and Quincy between them. The sheriff raised his voice to be heard above Pink’s music. “You’re good at giving advice. Now take some of your own. Whatever happened between you and Peyton, you can work it out.”
Quincy nodded. “You don’t have an advanced degree, but you’re smart enough to know she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to you.”