Rue and her husband, Rick, have taken different directions with their lives. He’s become a self-important businessman, who uses his relationship with Rue to impress his clients. Lately, he’s been manipulative and at times, mean. Rue is a new mom, an art teacher, and a vendor at the Farmer’s Market. She’s a full-blown woman in her prime, and she needs a real man. Hake, a customer service clerk at Southside Market, is just that man. But Rue’s husband won’t let her go without a fight. In an explosive climax, Rue finds a love she wasn’t even looking for—and just when she needs it the most.
Hake MacDaniels had worked at his uncle’s market for as long as he could remember. When he was in River Elementary he rode his stingray bike to the market after school to take the trash out and gather carts from the parking lot. As soon as he was tall enough he began stocking shelves and bagging groceries. Every customer had a story, and he’d known some of them for decades. They told him about their families, their gardens and orchards, their jobs, and he listened and bagged their groceries carefully, week after week, year after year. He didn’t have to work, but he liked it, and liked the people whose stories were part of his life. Even after he graduated from Eagle Hills High School, and started at State, he still worked three or four afternoons a week.
Some of the customers tipped him when he took their groceries to the car—though his uncle discouraged tipping. These customers would slip him the tip and wink, as if they were breaking some Market rule. Hake had outgrown his stingray years ago. Nowadays he parked his Harley in the shade of the big oak out back. But the Southside Market never changed, and the store was as much his home as were his parents’ orchards and packing sheds.
Rue Palmer and her contractor husband had moved to Eagle Hills about three years before. Hake noticed her because she parked her classic, beautifully restored 1965 Mustang in the back, in the shade, instead of as close to the door as possible where most customers liked to park. He admired the un-classic metallic icy green color of the car. Her husband, Rick, was kind of a big shot, or at least that was the opinion the man seemed to have of himself when he sponsored the Little League teams. Rick Palmer had come to town as the general contractor on a handful of federally-funded campground projects and had immediately begun to meddle in local zoning politics. Hake’s dad didn’t like Palmer much. Hake only knew this because he had a thing for Rue—Mrs. Palmer—and heard things now and again that he made note of.
She never noticed him.
Rue Palmer’s artwork was an instant hit with the locals. She painted watercolors of the local sites—the mill and the wineries, the abandoned hop kiln, the old houses and gardens—and the town had adopted her with affection. Hake’s sister took a painting class at the Community College and never stopped talking about how much fun Mrs. Palmer was, and how inspiring her technique was.
Hake liked her green eyes. And her boobs. She was even prettier since she’d had the baby, more vibrant and curvy. Smart, older women intrigued Hake. She was six or seven years older, a teacher, and an esteemed artist. And married. Until the other day, he figured the most he could ever do was admire her from a distance, and try to give her the extra customer service the Southside Market was so well known for. In her case that meant taking her groceries about three times further than he did for anyone else who shopped there. But the other day, those amazingly hot, green eyes had rested right on his face, and she saw him. Really looked at him. Even asked him some personal questions. Her attention made him clumsy, and he’d brushed up against her when he helped her with the baby. Her softness had made him hard. He’d dreamed of her, and awakened restless and hungry at three in the morning, unable to sleep..."
