Free Marriage Seasons 03 - Falling for You Again by Gary Chapman, Catherine Palmer

hairstyle. “I happen to enjoy being a blonde. I colored over the auburn three days ago, and I don’t expect I’ll change this shade for quite a while. You might as well get used to it.”
    He laughed. “What are you talking about, girl?”
    At the sight of his warm smile and the sound of his deep chuckle, Patsy knew for sure she was turning pink. “What do you think I’m talking about, Pete Roberts? My hair.”
    “But I asked if you’d heard the news about the tanning salon moving in.”
    Patsy felt the blood drain from her cheeks. “A tanning salon? Where?”
    “Here. In Tranquility. Someone’s been talking to Steve Hansen about subletting half of the tattoo parlor. They want to set up tanning beds, work on fingernails, and do body piercing.”
    “Fingernails?” Patsy breathed out.
    “I figured you would have heard about it by now.”
    “No. Nobody said a word. I thought the news you were talking about was the birthday card that Cody sent to Jennifer Hansen. The ladies next door are just buzzing about his profession of love. But I already knew how he felt about her.”
    “Cody Goss is in love with Jennifer Hansen? The missionary?”
    “She’s not a missionary yet. She’s studying to be one at Hidden Tribes Learning Center near Camdenton. Are you sure they said nails? I don’t give a rip about the tanning bed or the body piercing, but I do a big nail business all year long.”
    “Fingernails is what I heard. What did Jennifer say to him after she read the card?”
    “Same thing she always does if he starts getting too affectionate. ‘Everyone loves you, Cody. You’re so sweet.’ Is it the kind of manicure with the black polish and crazy designs, or is it my kind? You know, French nails and warm paraffin treatments and all that.”
    “Honey, I wouldn’t know a French nail from a French fry. Do you think he got his feelings hurt, because I noticed he’s been kind of moping around every time he stops by to get a hot dog.”
    “Pete Roberts!” Bitty Sondheim sang out. “Your order’s ready. One plain omelet with a hazelnut coffee.”
    “Hazelnut coffee?” Patsy stared at the tackle shop owner and part-time engine repairman.
    Pete shrugged. “A man can drink flavored coffee if he wants to, can’t he?”
    Patsy had never known Pete to drink anything but the black, tarlike sludge he brewed in the coffeemaker in his tackle shop. “Well, I guess so,” she said.
    “I’ve been known to down a hot mocha latte when the mood hits me just right.” He leaned over and whispered in her ear, “You sure missed a good football game last Friday.”
    The bristles on his chin against her cheek sent a shower of goose bumps straight down to Patsy’s toes. She tried to back away, but in the crowded room, it was impossible.
    “I listened to the game on the radio,” she told Pete. “Last-minute touchdown for the Lakers.”
    “Say, Patsy, how would you like to go to a movie with me on Saturday night?” He paused a moment; then he moved a little closer to whisper again. “I’ll shave.”
    Seeing as she was about to shiver the top button right off her too-tight pants, Patsy couldn’t do a thing but nod. Pete winked at her and went to fetch his breakfast. Staring after the man, she watched as he paid Bitty for the meal, greeted a few fellow customers, and then headed for the door.
    “Pick you up at five,” he called to her over his shoulder as he left the Pop-In.
    Several people smiled and elbowed each other.
    Trying to appear disinterested, Patsy stepped up and placed her order. “My usual,” she told Bitty.
    A three-egg omelet stuffed with potatoes and dripping with melted cheese was exactly what Patsy needed to calm her shattered nerves. But the sudden image of herself on Saturday evening—trying to fit into her favorite purple turtleneck and matching pencil skirt—brought her breakfast plans to a skidding halt. What would Pete think if the fabric was stretched too tight or, heaven forbid, a seam