“I’ll see you around then.” And he realized that he’d never bumped into her at all around town. Which was sort of silly considering they worked right across the street from each other.

“Night, Matt. Nice to meet you. Your mother talks about you all the time.”

He stopped as he’d reached the door and heard her laugh. “You knew that’d get me, didn’t you?” he said, looking back over his shoulder at her.

Her eyes widened in mock surprise. “Me? I have seen you naked though. With a cowboy hat on even.”

He groaned, knowing the picture. His momma did love to show that picture of him at about eighteen months old, naked as a jaybird wearing a cowboy hat.

“Are you imagining me naked now?” he teased back and she blushed bright red again. He toyed with asking her what women would call that shade of red but decided against it. He winked and waved. “See you around, Tate Murphy.”

He whistled all the way to his truck.

“Fuckadoodledoo. I cannot believe I nearly choked to death on my own spit when I caught sight of the man in my own shop.” Tate fell into a chair and put her face in her hands.

Beth chuckled. “He’s so handsome I’m surprised you could talk. Nice too. And clearly, he liked you, Tate.”

“Oh yeah, ‘cause I’m totally his type.” Tate rolled her eyes.

“Stop it,” Anne said harshly.

“What? Come on, Anne. You’ve seen the women on his arm. What do they have in common with me other than like, having skin and hair and basics like that? You know what the Chase wives look like.”

“I won’t hear you speak about yourself in his voice, Tate. I won’t, damn it. You are the best woman I know. Period.” Anne was so vehement it took Tate back a bit.

Tate stood and hugged her sister. “Hey, I’m not putting myself down. I swear to you. But I’m being realistic. Anne, there’s a place between Dad and being totally delusional. Matt Chase dates tall, strikingly beautiful, thin women. I am none of those things. Oh, now let me finish! I’m attractive in my own way but I’m five foot one and not thin and while I wouldn’t crack mirrors, I am not strikingly beautiful like Jill or Beth.”

Beth snorted. “You’re the best of us, Tate. I don’t know a woman more beautiful than you are and that’s the honest truth. I do have very nice knockers though not as big as yours.”

They laughed, the tension broken by Beth’s silly comment.

“We on for Martini Friday?” Anne kissed Tate’s cheek and squeezed Beth’s arm.

“Hell yeah. My place in two hours. No boys allowed. I picked up vodka yesterday and I’ve been marinating the chicken and shrimp all day.” Tate grinned.

Tate went home and tried not to think about what an utter lameass she’d been in front of Matt Chase. Choking, blushing, making that stupid crack about him being naked and then his question. If she’d known him better she’d have told him the truth. Hell yes she’d been imagining him naked. Had done for years now. It was her daily pastime. She got bored? Picture Matt Chase nekkid and at her beck and call. Waiting for the dentist? Imagine Matt Chase having her be naked and at his beck and call. Oh so many variations on such a fine theme. Matt Chase naked. Yep.

Every Friday her sisters and sisters-in-law all congregated at one of their homes without husbands and children and had Martini Friday. Sometimes, usually during the summer it would be Margarita Friday instead but the idea was to gather, blow off the week, eat tasty food and have some drinks.

Tate changed and started the broiler before grabbing the ingredients she’d need from the fridge and cabinets. She loved the time just before people came over. That effort in preparing things for others, in sharing her food with them, in making her house comfortable and inviting.

Once she’d made the salad and pulled out the mini appetizers she’d prepared the night before, she dropped the chicken onto the broiler and moved into the living room to light candles.

PJ Harvey on the stereo singing about New York City made Tate sway a bit as she took the glasses from the cabinet and put them on a tray. It’d been a while since she’d had a date over for dinner. Cooking for dates was an odd thing. Some men liked it and enjoyed it but others, well their feelings about her weight transferred onto any event with food and made her feel self-conscious. She hated that. Her father made her feel that way and she didn’t want anyone else to ever do that to her again.

She’d known why Anne got so angry earlier. They all knew Tate had continually re-directed his attention onto herself so her siblings could be spared their father’s emotional abuse and Tim had done the same with the physical abuse. Her siblings were fiercely protective of each other and most especially her over her weight. It was a thing, a wound they all shared because of how cruel her father had been about it. While Tate truly wasn’t bothered by it most of the time, they all took great umbrage when anyone ever made a flip or unkind remark, even Tate herself.

Talking on the porch lifted her out of her thoughts, she greeted her sisters with a smile.

Like he did every Friday, Matt got together with his brothers at The Pumphouse for a few games of pool. He was the last single brother, a fact that every woman in town seemed to take up as a challenge. Free beers came his way multiple times a night, women traipsed past and bent over with come hither looks.

“I hate to admit it, but all this is tiring.” He took a shot and missed.

Shane chuckled. “I figured it’d be hard on the last single Chase brother.”