Chapter 1
Is there anything more pitiful than a man drinking alone on a Friday night?
Tucker McGee pondered that from his seat at the bar of The Mudcat Tavern. In the wake of wrapping up an ugly divorce trial and a property dispute this week, he’d wanted to unwind with his friends. But those days of regular socializing seemed to be over. Brody had been back from Portland for almost a mo
nth and they’d hung out twice—once for his welcome home party and one hurried lunch. Tucker didn’t blame his buddy for making up for lost time with his fiancée, Tyler. God knew they deserved all the happiness in the world.
But his other friends had been just as scarce. Cam was busy being half of Wishful’s power couple, saving the town alongside his fiancée, Norah Burke, the new city planner. And poor Piper was busy puking her guts up, though her first trimester was past. She and her new husband, Myles Stewart, were sticking close to home until she was more human again. Hell, even his law partner, Vivian, had tied the knot earlier this summer with her long-term beau, Darius Greeley. That left Tucker high and dry, feeling like the last single guy in Wishful, and wishing the beer in his hand was a plate of pie.
Be honest. It’s not about pie—it’s about the owner of the hand that delivers the pie. Corinne with the wounded eyes.
Tucker took another pull on his beer. When, exactly, was the right time to make a move on a woman who was busy trying to rebuild her world from the ground up? He’d been trying to figure that out for the better part of a year, which had resulted in a lot of pie and an extra six miles a week on the treadmill at the gym. No date, though. He hadn’t asked. Not because he was some kind of pansy afraid of rejection, but because he didn’t want to be the rebound guy. But biding his time hadn’t gotten him anywhere.
Irritated with himself, Tucker finished off the beer. He didn’t even like his own company tonight.
“Tucker, my darlin’, you are just the man I was looking for.”
He swiveled on his stool to find Norah cutting a swath through the Friday night crowd. Cam was nowhere to be seen. Tucker slid off the stool and gave her a hug. “And where is your other half this evening?”
“Taking advantage of the long summer hours to finish up a job for Mamie Landon. She got it into her head to turn her backyard into a Zen garden, complete with Asian-inspired pergola.”
“Better Cam than me. The heat index was over a hundred today.”
“Welcome to August in Mississippi.”
“Buy you a drink?” Tucker asked.
“I’m buying because I have a favor to ask.”
Tucker recognized the gleam in her dark eyes. She had another grandiose scheme in the works. Norah Burke never did anything small, which meant whatever she had in mind would probably be a good distraction from his lack of a love life.
“I’m intrigued. What’s the favor?”
“Drinks first.” She lifted a hand to wave at the owner of The Mudcat, who was working taps behind the bar. “Hey Adele! Can I get whatever hard cider you’ve got on tap and another of what Tucker’s having?”
“Coming right up.”
Drinks in hand, they retreated to one of the high top tables along the far wall.
“Okay, spill it. What have you got up your sleeve?”
“You do volunteer work at the women’s shelter, right?”
Not the segue he’d been expecting. “Yeah. I offer up free legal services. Divorces. Restraining orders. That kind of thing. Why?”
“Well, you know they’re really in need of a bigger place, right? They want to be able to take in more women with children, and right now the house simply isn’t big enough.”
That was true enough. The shelter was, unfortunately, bursting at the seams—a sad testament to the need for its services.
“You want to do a fundraiser,” Tucker said.
“I want to do a fundraiser,” she confirmed.
“What did you have in mind?” Please don’t say a bachelor auction. As much as he wanted some companionship right now, the kind of women who’d be bidding on him at a fundraiser like that were not a road he wanted to travel down again.
“Well, you know how Dancing With the Stars is in its bajillionth season, right? Way more popular than the showrunners ever expected it to be.”
“Yeah...”
“I want to do a local version. Dancing With Wishful.”
Tucker frowned. “How would that work?”
“Same kind of format as the show, with some minor modifications. The Babylon is hosting the competition in its ballroom. There will be—well, I don’t know how many performances since I haven’t nailed down all the dancers yet—but maybe four or five shows. One a week. We’ll sell tickets to those. The whole thing will be streamed live online, and people will be able to vote for their favorites each week, just like on the actual show. There will be some built-in revenue on the site, via ad space and the like. And there will be a panel of three judges, like on the show, too.”
“People tune in to watch Dancing With the Stars because there are pro dancers and famous people.”
“People will tune in to watch this because we’ll be pairing beloved town figures with the town’s best dancers. That’s where you come in. I want you to be one of our pro dancers.”
“Oh really?”
“Tyler and Brody already agreed. Piper begged off because growing a human is hard. But she offered up the names of a couple of other people I should ask. You’ve been in court all week, so I haven’t made it to you until now. Think about it, Tucker. You nobly gave up your role as Phil in White Christmas to get Brody and Tyler back together. Now’s your chance to show off those happy feet of yours for all to see.”
A spark of inspiration flared in his brain. “And who would my partner be?”
“To be determined. I wanted to have all my pros lined up before I started asking local businesses to sponsor someone, so I know how many I need. Cam volunteered to sponsor himself on behalf of the nursery, so he’s dancing with Tyler.”
“And you have the double whammy of him being an elected official.” Tucker nodded. “People will tune in to see City Councilman Pretty Boy. What about you, Miss City Planner?”
Norah laughed. “Please. I know my limitations. I nearly broke your feet when you tried to dance with me last year. Surely you’ve learned your lesson.”
As it was an undeniable truth that Norah possessed not a shred of natural rhythm, Tucker was privately relieved. And that potentially left the door open to a crazy plan. He did love a crazy plan. “What about Mama Pearl?”
Norah clapped her hands in glee. “Dinner Belles is the center of everything in this town. If you can talk her into dancing, the public would love it!”