The True Love Quilting Club Read Online Free PDF Page B

done,” he eased his tone. The problem wasn’t this woman, but rather his matchmaking Aunt Belinda.
    “I’ll pay for the exam,” she offered.
    “Never mind that,” he said. “Just stop using your dog to pick up guys and we’ll call it even.”
    “It’s a deal.” Her smile shone falsely bright and her perky pink ponytail seemed to sag a little.
    She left the clinic with Satan through the side exit, and Sam went to the reception desk. “Don’t charge the Rottweiler’s owner for the visit—”
    “Not another freebie,” his receptionist, Delia, groaned. “You can’t make a living if you keep giving away your services, Sam.”
    “I don’t need a lecture,” he said. “I’ve got a mother, two sisters, and a very nosy aunt for that. Just letting you know that I’m leaving the building for a few minutes.”
    “You have a poodle that got pecked in the eye by a rooster on the way in.” Delia stamped “no charge” on Satan’s bill.
    “I’ll be right back.” He turned and went out the rear door.
    The alley of the clinic ran parallel to the town square that was one block over. To get to the square he had to walk past the Twilight Playhouse, built in 1886. In the summers, the theater hosted touring companies performing Broadway musicals. In the winters, the town put on its own productions, including everything from cowboy poetry readings, to musical groups, to Christmas pageants.
    Now that it was September and the kids had gone back to school, the playhouse would be gearing up for a new round of homespun programs. The sound of someone banging out a ragtime tune drifted through the open window of the sandstone building as he rounded the corner to the town square. The first time he’d ever kissed a girl, it had been in the upstairs stage loft.
    He couldn’t help thinking of Trixie Lynn. Even now, he could still remember her impish green eyes surrounded by a riot of burnished orange curls. He’d had a thing for redheads ever since. Valerie had been a redhead as well, although her hair had been darker, more brownish. Trixie Lynn had possessed corkscrew tresses as vibrant as oak leaves in autumn.
    After the kiss he’d filched from her in that loft, he’d fallen madly in love with Trixie Lynn the way a guy only falls once. Never mind that he’d been only fifteen, he’d yearned for her completely and without reservation. He was embarrassed about it now, the way he’d been so overcome. Not just that, but he was embarrassed at how often he still remembered it. Almost every time he passed the Twilight Playhouse, he thought of her and wondered where she was. Had she married? Did she have kids? Had she ever achieved her dreams of being a star?
    It was so long ago. So dumb to keep thinking about her, but if he closed his eyes, the memory came back sharp and fully in focus. He remembered all the little details: the way she’d smelled like watermelon shampoo and Ivory soap, the way her soft curls felt slipping between his fingers. The way the storage loft had been hot and airless, how sweat had trickled down his back, how no one knew they were up there together in the dark.
    “I feel like I’ve cheated you,” Valerie had said to him on their honeymoon. They’d gone to San Antonio and were strolling the river walk hand in hand. Cumin from a nearby Mexican restaurant had scented the air. In the distance, a mariachi band sang “El Paso” in Spanish. They’d just shared a kiss, and he could taste her mild milky flavor on his tongue. Her comment surprised him.
    “Cheated me? How’s that?”
    “I had my one great love with Jeff. He was my soul mate. But you…” She’d stopped walking, dropped her hand, looked him in the eyes. “You’ll never have that as long as you’re married to me.”
    What Valerie hadn’t known was that he’d alreadyhad his one great love and lost her as surely as she’d lost Jeff. “What we’ve got,” he’d told her and meant it, “is better than soul-mate love. It’s safe